#truly living up to her namesake

[livwritesstuff]

I’m not going to lie I’ve been thinking nonstop about Grey and Moe and the tiktok you said they would be as like an unaware couple. How do you think Moe’s family reacts when they finally realize they’ve been into each other the whole time? Like is anyone shocked or was it kinda understood what was happening to everyone but Moe and Grey? I live for this AU and think about it way too much to be normal.

i am also thinking about this ‘verse way too much. i have so many other things i’d love to be working on but i simply cannot because this is the only thing i ever want to write

Anyhoo, yeah, Moe and Gray getting together is a surprise to no one except for Moe. Steve had seen that shit coming since they were in middle school, and Eddie caught on not too long later.

Gray knew too – I feel like it’s a Gray fell first, Moe fell harder situation, where Gray realized they had a crush on Moe sometime in high school, but given how they never felt safe coming out to their parents while still living under their roof, the Harrington house was one of very few spaces where they could be 100% Gray without having to hide anything. “Selfishly” (because it’s not actually selfish, but it might feel that way at sixteen-years-old) Gray wanted to preserve that more than they wanted to risk what could be lost if Moe didn’t feel the same way.

Moe, on the other hand, had no idea. I was watching Clueless the other day and realized that she’s kind of like Cher if you dialed the bubbliness all the way down and the logic/reason all the way up. She’s a schemer, she’s always got something going on, and she’s got a seriously chronic case of tunnel vision, so she doesn’t always notice even very obvious things happening around her if it isn’t the exact thing she’s focusing on. Given that Gray had been a constant fixture in Moe’s life since kindergarten, Moe didn’t really think too much about what exactly she was feeling about Gray until the utterly in love with them basically smacked her in the face.

They finally started dating during their last year of college and, in true Moe fashion, she forgot to tell anyone. Steve and Eddie had to find out from Robbie (who only knew because she was living with both of them at the time).

Steve, during a routine call with Robbie: What's Moe up to tonight?

Robbie: She and Gray went out to dinner somewhere for their anniversary, I think.

Steve: *looks at Eddie for any sign he knew about this*

Eddie, just as clueless: Uhh...what??

(Eddie proceeded to torture what restaurant they were at out of Robbie and called to cover their bill, and then he made the hostess put Moe on the phone to congratulate them)

On the whole, though, everyone was thrilled about it. Eddie had always joked that Gray was his favorite child, and Steve liked to say that he wishes he could declare them as a fourth kid for the extra tax break at the end of the year. Gray had already been practically another member of the family, so Moe and Gray getting together didn’t change anything other than making that official.

[inga-don-studio]

Who cried on two separate occasions today over animatronic Disney dragons?

[estavionpira]

Shame on Tattletale for not living up to her namesake. Everyone on her team lies directly to her face about major things and she just sits there and goes "yeah. mhm. alrighty." What she SHOULD have done was tell everyone on the team everyone else's secrets, but told them they were the only ones entrusted with that information. That would have fostered the culture of mutual distrust and resentment within which a Lisa truly thrives.

[orionshounds]

Yet another family tree from my clangen (thankfully much smaller this time) featuring the leader and namesake of the clan herself Flailstar!

V details for each cat under the cut! V

Flailstar (female)

Flail is my absolute favorite cringefail girl of all time. She decided to start her own clan just to prove that she could, she's constantly afraid of her clanmates doubting her abilities to the point of her overstepping the bounds of her leadership and alienating her clanmates, she currently hates BOTH medicine cats for not having a strong connection to Starclan but can't get rid of either of them, and has gotten into a fight with every single kit in the clan at least once. She is 142 moons and hasn't lost a single life and I hope she lives forever

Eevee (female)

Found dead in the territory, the clan took in her litter of three kits. When Flailstar came to investigate the body she instantly recognized her as her cousin from twolegplace (her mother had joined the clans before they were born, while her mother's sister had stayed with their twolegs). Flail is now keeping a special eye on the kits, but hasn't told a soul about their kinship

Glarenettle (male)

Almost always in a bad mood, this freshly-made warrior hates responsibility yet keeps getting saddled with it because of his mom. He has a habit of thinking with his claws and not his head, which is what lead to him catching a sick rabbit and accidently poisoned him and his brother...leading to Brightpaw's death. This has only made his attitude problems worse. He wants nothing more than be left alone but now he has to mentor Waterkit and he is entirely unthrilled. He recently went out alone and picked a fight with a nest of rats, and is now holed up in the medicine den stewing

Brightpaw (male)

Brightpaw had very little say in becoming a medicine cat apprentice; his mother wanted more direct control over the medicine den and he was the vessel to do it. He didn't really get along with his mentor and often spent afternoons gossiping with Glarenettle about it all. He was pretty upset when he died from poison but didn't have the heart to be truly angry with Glare over it. After all his brother was on his own now, and he was the only one who ever saw through his anger and saw the hurt inside. Brightpaw watches him from Starclan and hopes his brother can sort himself out before he gets himself killed

Flamepaw (female)

Absolutely no one can tell Flame what to do as she everything she does is always on her own terms. She's been feeling a little gloomy lately as her new mentor is Flailstar, which means she won't be able to get up to as much mischief with the leader getting her in trouble

Waterpaw (male)

He was a whiney and petulant kit, often getting into fights with and tattling on his sisters. As an apprentice he's grown an even deeper mean streak....which isn't helped by the fact his mentor is Glarenettle who Water looks up to like he hung the moon

Thunderpaw (female)

Incredibly skittish, she was often mocked by her siblings for being afraid of thunderstorms (her name was chosen before this fact was known). But the cat who became her mentor, Hailthump, comforted her, telling her that he was afraid of thunderstorms too. The two came up with a whole routine of checking the sky every night for rainclouds, and if there was some Hail would spend the night in the nursery just for her. Now that she's his apprentice she's determined to prove herself and overcome her fears to make him proud

[ladystoneboobs]

[Bran, to Theon:]“But you’re Father’s ward.” [Theon, to Bran:]“And now you and your brother are my wards. [...] You’ll tell them how you’ve yielded Winterfell to me, and command them to serve and obey their new lord as they did the old.” -Bran VI, aCoK “He[Ramsay] is a great hunter,” said Wyman Manderly, “and women are his favorite prey. He strips them naked and sets them loose in the woods. They have a half day’s start before he sets out after them with hounds and horns. From time to time some wench escapes and lives to tell the tale. Most are less fortunate. When Ramsay catches them he rapes them, flays them, feeds their corpses to his dogs, and brings their skins back to the Dreadfort as trophies. If they have given him good sport, he slits their throats before he skins them. Elsewise, t’other way around.” -Davos IV, aDwD [Roose, to Theon, about Ramsay's mother:]"[...]I was hunting a fox along the Weeping Water when I chanced upon a mill and saw a young woman washing clothes in the stream. The old miller had gotten himself a new young wife, a girl not half his age. She was a tall, willowy creature, very healthy-looking. Long legs and small firm breasts, like two ripe plums. Pretty, in a common sort of way. The moment that I set eyes on her I wanted her. Such was my due. [...] This miller’s marriage had been performed without my leave or knowledge. The man had cheated me. So I had him hanged, and claimed my rights beneath the tree where he was swaying. If truth be told, the wench was hardly worth the rope. The fox escaped as well, and on our way back to the Dreadfort my favorite courser came up lame, so all in all it was a dismal day." -Reek(/Theon) III, aDwD

something something the way theon tries to rectify his childhood trauma by taking his captor's place as lord of wf and taking ned's younger sons as his "wards"/hostages, while ramsay repeatedly reenacts different versions of his own conception by hunting and raping peasant women. except theon fails in his role reversal when (unlike him in his own captivity at wf) bran and rickon escape custody. and ramsay enhances roose's "dismal day" by killing all the women he catches to prevent any more bolton bastards and further punishing those of them who fail to give him "good sport" (which his mother apparently did not give roose) while those who do satisfy him are "honored" with a quick death (and a canine namesake). and then the consequences of theon's failure to replace his captor/cold noerthern father figure include losing wf to house bolton and becoming the new "reek"/another of ramsay's dogs. (meaning he made himself ramsay's prey but gave him "good sport" in the experience)

ramsay starts out as deceptive dark trickster figure/evil adviser/devil on theon's shoulder in clash but he's also a dark mirror of theon, and a more successful one at that, not just better suited to villainy but more able to get away with his crimes. neither will ever be truly accepted by their fathers but ramsay is made heir once he's the only son while theon is rejected as such despite his better birth. ramsay profits from the alleged kinslaying of his actual brother by blood, while theon is more openly condemned (and seen as still not punished enough) for (falsely) killing stark boys who were never his actual kin. it's almost as if ramsay is an evil force who came into being to find theon and was drawn to him upon his return to the north. we first learn of the bastard of bolton's existence after theon returns to pyke and learns of his father's invasion plans, then his last hunt with the original reek just shortly precedes the ironborn attacks, all so that he's captured and waiting in wf right in time for theon's real plan to go into action, and we don't actually meet (disguised) ramsay in-person through dialogue with rodrik cassell or any other northerner but only when theon arrives as the new lord to free him from the dungeon. as the first reek may have corrupted ramsay, ramsay-as-reek corrupts theon. reek belongs to ramsay and ramsay belongs to reek.

[archduchessofnowhere]

I bring you not very good news: Nancy Goldstone wrote a double biography on Elisabeth and Empress Eugenie, to be published on February 6 of next year.

After reading @vivelareine's review of Goldstone's book on Marie Antoinette I simply do not trust this author is a good researcher, and while I won't judge this book until it's out, I can't help but being very wary already. The synopsis alone doesn't give me much hope:

From the acclaimed author of In the Shadow of the Empress comes the thrilling chronicle of two of the most influential and glamorous women in nineteenth-century Europe—Elisabeth, empress of Austria, and Eugénie, empress of France—and their efforts to rule amid the scandal, intrigue, tragedy, and violence of their era.

When they married Emperors Franz Joseph and Napoleon III, respectively, Elisabeth of Austria and Eugénie of France became two of the most famous women on the planet. Not only were they both young and beautiful—becoming cultural and fashion icons of their time—but they played a pivotal role in ruling their realms during a tempestuous era characterized by unprecedented political and technological change.

Fearless, adventurous, and independent, Elisabeth and Eugénie represented a new kind of empress—one who rebelled against tradition and anticipated and embraced modern values. Yet both women endured hardship in their private and public lives. Elisabeth was plagued by a mother-in-law who snatched her infant children away and undermined her authority at court. Eugénie’s husband was an infamous philanderer who could not match the military prowess of his namesake. Between them, Elisabeth and Eugénie were personally involved in every major international confrontation in their turbulent century, which witnessed thrilling technological advances, as well as revolutions, assassinations, and wars.

With her characteristic in-depth research and jump-off-the-page writing, Nancy Goldstone brings to life these two remarkable women, as Europe goes through the convulsions that led up to the international landscape we recognize today.

You see, I don't think it's crazy to pair up Elisabeth and Eugenie in a biography if your focus is going to be their queenship. Because they were very different as empresses, and I'd love a comparative study on why and how was that possible. Yet the synopsis is implying they were similar? How was Elisabeth personally involved in every major international confrontation? She was only personally involved in the Compromise, every other event she only reacted to (if even). Meanwhile Eugenie actively tried to participate in the politics of France and influence her husband (successfully in many cases, I believe).

The "domineering mother-in-law" part also worries me. Unsere liebe Sisi's been out since 2008, there's no excuse to not give Sophie a more nuanced portrayal.

But well, authors usually don't write the synopsis of their books, so I won't read more into it than what I've done already. I truly hope this biography isn't terrible because we don't need to add one more book to the already giant pile of books about Elisabeth that are filled with myths and misinformation.

[angsthology]

𖤓 intro to camellia ayudisha (ft. the commentary by yours truly)

-> series masterlist

Camellia, oh, Camellia.

She is as pretty as her namesake and as delicate as its petals.

If Jupiter was a hail-storm disrupting one’s lives (the so-called journalists are very dramatic, they should try writing a screenplay instead), Camellia was the gentle breeze in the early morning greeting your skin. If Jupiter has the sky and storm in her control, Camellia was the wind god that has control over whether or not your hair is going to stick to your lip gloss.

Not everyone can understand her beauty but anyone who does has been blessed with the right retinas.

Her presence is one that people debate whether she should be driving at all when she feels like royalty (and let’s be honest, a passenger princess), someone in deserving to the throne under that crown.

She is the person you think of when you hear the phrase ‘pretty girl’. Fitting to her name, she looked like she was hand-picked in the prettiest flower field; sweet dark chocolate-colored eyes under her long lashes (everyone, me included, very jealous of those) — her dark, once black hair turned brown from her continuous sun exposure (especially the one that is in her hometown), her skin that warm-toned tan color. And you could never miss her delicate face, cheekbones high and visible on her round face—(something everyone goes crazy for? Post-race glistens where all of her light makeup is either gone or has become one with her skin giving her face that glow).

When people throw around the term ‘Grid Princess’ it only truly sticks to her and only truly serious with her.

Everyone knows the story, the ‘myth’ of Camellia Ayudisha; had her father not meet her mother, had he not marry her, had he not created Camellia, she would be a princess—well, she’d also be nonexistent but if she did exist—she does, but under different circumstances—she would be.

You get what I mean.

She is how one might say… perfect.

The perfect role model, perfect ‘intro’ of sorts, the perfect woman.

She was, the firs and foremost of ‘her kind’, she set the path for women in motorsports, and there was no one better to do it than her. She is perfect.

Perfect Camellia is the media angel, perfect Camellia would never go against the rules, perfect Camellia would never out-do her teammate in equal machinery. (well, she still did.)

The perfect male fantasy as to what a female Formula One driver should be.

Well, she was perfect to them. For the first three years of her career, she was as well-behaved as everyone expected her to be, she didn’t fail anyone’s expectations. The perfect fantasy.

“WHAT IS THIS? Camellia Ayudisha’s Toro Rosso has overtaken Nico Rosberg in the Mercedes! If she keeps this up for a few more seconds she will be making history as the first ever woman to win a Formula One Grand Prix… Oh my Goodness! SHE CROSSES THE FINISH LINE! THE CHECKERED FLAG HAS WAVED FOR THE FIRST TIME THIS WEEKEND! CAMELLIA AYUDISHA HAS WON THE TWO-THOUSAND-SIXTEEN JAPANESE GRAND PRIX!” the commentator yells into his mic, cheers following in the background at what just happened.

The crowd was loud with their gasps and cheers, even those who weren’t her supporters managed to had the jaws slack.

Her radio was much worse,

“THAT IS P1! MEL, YOU JUST WON A GRAND PRIX! YOU’RE THE FIRST WOMAN IN HISTORY TO WIN A GRAND PRIX! CONGRATULATIONS! P1 oh I can’t take this, take it in Mel… you’ve just made history.” Her engineer and entire team celebrated in her ears, prompting tears to form in her eyes.

When they heard her voice again, her emotions were contagious, “Demi apa… Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God… I did that…” her voice giving away her tears. “I can’t believe it…”

“Oh, you best believe it, this is your day! A day for women and girls everywhere, we all thank you.”

“Okay, Ray, I mean this in the nicest way possible… please shut up.”

And when they thought she was done talking to cry by herself, they were wrong.

“THIS IS FOR YOU MALIQ!” she cried into the radio, saying the words with her Indonesian accent heavy on her tongue.

They’ve just witnessed history live in front of their eyes.

Then there are the luckiest interviewers to have been blessed to get her first few words minutes by the history-maker herself.

Right after she was done getting weighed, Camellia walked over to her post-race interview. Her mouth in a permanent smile, one might mistake her for having just inhaled glue with her entire face.

“Look at you!” the interviewer greeted happily, “You’re glowing!”

She laughed lightly, “First time I’m hearing that. Thankfully not in a different circumstance…” her comment making the reporter and herself crack another laugh.

“No, seriously, you’re beautiful!” she can only smile at the compliment, “I guess winning does that to one, huh?”

She chuckled again, “I guess so…”

All-the-while she didn’t realize the visible tears that had ran down her cheeks, the tears that were still running down.

“Are you crying?” he asked with a light-hearted laugh.

When it came to her attention, Camellia immediately wiped it away and looked at the tear on her knuckle, “I can’t stop it, I swear…” she replied with the same light-hearted laugh.

“You just made history! I wouldn’t be able to stop crying too if I were you!”

It was known from then on, Camellia was not afraid to show emotion, her vulnerability. She took it all with great pride.

Many says she was ‘weak’ but more stated that she was unafraid, she was fearless.

“Wow, look at that, only nineteen-years-old and had just marked her spot in history by winning her first Grand Prix.” The commentator narrated as the dark-haired girl was seen walking towards the podium with the 1st cap in one hand and the other pushing her hair back.

“Even the way she walks, just look at her! So elegant.” As she stepped on the top podium, teeth shining with her smile. So sweet, so beautiful.

“Now let’s hear it for the Indonesian national anthem.”

The smile on her face was the smile no one has seen before — which was saying a lot cause Camellia smiles for ninety percent of her life.

As her anthem plays, she removes her winner’s crown only for it to be replaced with the sun as if she wore a halo as her crown.

To the world, she could’ve done no wrong.

Until,

Ugh, until…

Jupiter Nightshade once again ‘ruined something that was once great’. — the media claimed.

Maybe there was always a flame inside of Camellia that the world had yet to see before ever in her Formula One career, a flame that was only set the season she met the rookie in Renault.

When the rookie won the driver’s championship in a Renault—it triggered something in her.

A rookie… had won… a championship before her. —In a Renault of all things! The first Renault driver with a championship since 2006! That was three histories she made in her first year.

In the early days of 2019, after months-long silence from the driver and her team, emotions and tension bubbled over the internet over their radio silence.

Until eventually, it broke out:

BREAKING: Camellia Ayudisha to leave Red Bull.

BREAKING: Camellia Ayudisha to join Mercedes in 2019.

That’s when all hell broke loose.

The reactions to her move grew opinions from the internet.

One spoke, ‘I need to lie down.’ (me too, and I did kinda) — another yelled, ‘her and Lewis as teammates… SIR LEWIS HAMILTON AND THE PRINCESS, I won.’ (they do look beautiful together, who doesn’t love colonizer and colonizee royals as teammates) — unfortunately another man spat; ‘who does she think she is? Red Bull quite literally boosted her career.’ (she is Camellia and she did everything she has achieved herself, thank you very much and shut the fuck up.) — but when a man speaks (again, unfortunately) another person (as delusionally great they are) says; ‘CAMELLIA AYUDISHA 2019 WDC!’ (I like the spirit and enthusiasm, keep it up, you’re going to need it.) — ‘damn, no more Indonesian colonial times teammates [broken heart emoji]’ (I mean, well. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say to that.) — and you obviously cannot forget the ones who is always going to be there for her; ‘I’m glad she left, I did not like the way they treated her there. To hell with that rocket ship, as long as she’s happy and okay that’s all I’m going to need for now.’ (she appreciates that a lot).

I mean, it’s not like any of that will matter, Camellia was known to be chronically offline. A grass-toucher, if you will. But by her profession, you could say gravel-toucher… enough.

Her name eventually became the equivalent to ‘surprise’. ‘Cause somehow, just somehow… she shocked the world again the time 2021 came around.

BREAKING: Audi to join Formula One for the 2021 season.

Carlos Sainz Jr. to drive alongside Camellia Ayudisha in Audi for the 2021 season.

The Royalty, the Flower, L’Angelo; Dewa Ayu Camellia Anisha Primaningtyas.

not proofread | taglist; @disneyprincemuke @eugene-emt-roe @nikfigueiredo @treehouse-mouse @sadieurlady @trouble-sistar @almostjollypizza + ask to be added (crossed out means i cant tag you)

[g0lightly]

Visenya and Rhaenys; Rhaena and Alysanne; Sansa and Arya: An analysis of older and younger sisters' relationships to love and duty in Westeros

While Arya may be the more obvious Visenya comparison at first glance due to her inclination toward warfare, bear in mind that both Rhaenys and Visenya were warriors; arguably, Visenya's impact on Westeros is more defined by her diplomacy (an art Sansa has been learning her entire arc, specifically in the Vale and the Crownlands, the places Visenya conquered) while Rhaenys' impact is one of a warrior (specifically in the place that Arya's direwolf's namesake once ruled). I think that Sansa will ultimately be the Stark sister to fall into the Visenya archetype while Arya is more of the Rhaenys.

To be clear, this analysis is more about the Fire and Blood characters' roles in the story than their actual personalities since the text inherently leaves F&B characters' personalities way more open for interpretation than any POV character. With that in mind, I will be commenting on choices made by F&B characters that demonstrate character traits that the Stark girls also demonstrate and situations/events that mirror their stories. I also do not think that any character in ASOIAF is ever anything even close to a perfect 1:1 of any other character and do not intend to imply that this is the case.

Here's a previous reblog with my commentary on this subject, some of which I will repeat here. To summarize that commentary, I believe that Visenya and Rhaena (who directly compared herself to Visenya while comparing Alysanne to Rhaenys) establish a pattern of eldest sisters who were sought-after wives due to their place in the line of succession but ultimately choose to buck the rules when they realize their sense of duty to the system they live under will never truly help them. I strongly believe that Sansa is on her way to a similar arc and that this is (at least partially) what Lady's death means for her story.

Though one may be quick to think of Rhaenys as a more dutiful wife than Visenya since she is framed as the more traditional of the two women, I would like to remind my fellow readers that Visenya married Aegon for duty while Rhaenys married him for love. Visenya also established the first Kingsguard along with its vows because she believed that Aegon's guards were not attentive enough -- not unlike Sansa establishing the Brotherhood of the Winged Knight in the Vale to protect the young Lord Robert Arryn. While Sansa does not wish to be a warrior herself, she loves everything to do with knights, tourneys, and heraldry -- that is more of the way I see her emulating Visenya.

Regarding Visenya's diplomacy in the Vale specifically, I think it is notable that the Vale during the conquest was ruled by a regent on behalf of a boy king, not unlike Sweetrobin and Littlefinger. Though one might expect Visenya and Vhagar to burn the Eyrie to a crisp, as they had previously done to ships in Gullstown, she instead invited the young King Ronnel onto Vhagar to amuse the boy. The dragon's presence was also an inherent threat to Queen Regent Sharra Arryn, don't get me wrong. Without dragons in Westeros, the Eyrie was impenetrable. With dragons in Westeros, it was not -- and Visenya chose a very diplomatic way to remind Sharra Arryn of that fact. This is the kind of approach I expect Sansa to come away with from the Vale: Tactful and courteous but no less effective. She just needs to wield the power to back it up.

If Rhaenys had been more duty-minded, perhaps she would have married into a great house to give the Targaryens more allies in their conquest of Westeros. Instead she followed her heart and I believe Arya would do the same -- especially if she had a goddamn dragon. Additionally, because Alysanne and Jaehaerys are remembered in the histories as this perfect couple, it is easy to forget that they defied Alyssa when they married. Because of the reaction to Rhaena's marriage to Aegon, Alyssa reasonably worried that Jaehaerys and Alysanne's marriage would be unpopular. Nevertheless, Jaehaerys and Alysanne overcame this and went on to be remembered as the most beloved rulers in Westerosi history.

Sansa, on the other hand, pursues a man she actively dislikes (Harry Hardyng) because she believes she must marry him to retake Winterfell. This same pattern can be seen with Rhaena as well -- despite Rhaena clearly being a lesbian, she marries her own Aegon and has his children. Not unlike Sansa, Rhaena's place in her family's line of succession leads her to become one of Maegor's Black Brides. Though Sansa did not marry Joffrey, like Rhaena she experienced physical and sexual abuse from a cruel king at the Red Keep. Both Sansa and Rhaena had to mourn their fathers and brothers -- their most trusted male protector figures -- during their time in the Red Keep and were forced to marry into the political faction responsible for their deaths.

After Maegor's death, Rhaena shocked her family when she married the simple second son of the modest Fair Isle rather than making a match that would benefit House Targaryen. Of course, it was Elissa Farman that Rhaena loved rather than Androw Farman. As the closest thing to a canonically lesbian character in the ASOIAF-verse, Rhaena's place in the Targaryen line of succession meant that love and duty would always be at odds for her. When Rhaena fulfilled her duty by marrying Aegon, she was rewarded with the loss of her lover (Melony Piper), the loss of two of her brothers (one of whom happened to be the father of her children), being separated from her daughters, and her marriage to Maegor the Cruel. I can't blame her if that experience made her decide that a woman's "duty" in Westeros is a trap, because it absolutely is. After all of the losses she has endured, I would not be surprised if Sansa goes on to feel the same.

Since Rhaena is one of the more fleshed out characters from Fire and Blood, we also know a bit about how she dealt with her emotions. Like Sansa at the Tourney of the Hand when a young knight from the Vale was killed, Rhaena is noted to have had stony reactions to the many tragedies in her life (I believe this is because she was a dragon dreamer; that's for another meta but I mention this because Sansa was also emotionless for a reason that may have been related to her magic bond with her magic pet). This creates a little triad with Sansa and Alyssa Arryn, for whom Alyssa's Tears was named. Rhaena also had a favourite from the Vale named Alayne Royce, I'm just saying.

Just as I believe Sansa will have to kill the idea of being a lady to become the leader she needs to be, I think that Arya had to break away from civilization as her direwolf did to grow into someone who can lead her own pack just as Nymeria does. Like Alysanne, I think Arya will use her power to help the most powerless people in Westeros. Like Rhaenys, I think her impact on Westeros will be one of a warrior. However, I think Arya's unique experiences and personality will ultimately make her more effective than either Rhaenys or Alysanne were in both warfare and welfare. I especially think this will be true if she is able to work closely with Sansa and Bran -- they're the real trio that mirror the conquerors of the Starklings IMO, sorry Jon. With Arya the warrior, Sansa the diplomat, and Bran the greenseer king, they would be unstoppable in ruling Westeros.

A pair of sisters from Fire and Blood that make for a more obvious comparison to Sansa and Arya would be Rhaena and Baela. Unlike the other examples, however, their place in the line of succession does not shape their lives in the way it does for Visenya, Rhaena, and Sansa. When the matter of their place in succession does come up in choosing an heir for the young Aegon III, however, his regents argued that Rhaena would be the more suitable choice despite being the younger twin. When they suggest that the "willful" Baela make a proper match as a possible future queen consort, she defies them by sailing off to Driftmark where she marries Alyn Velaryon. Rhaena, however, agreed to marry Lord Corbray per the regents' wishes.

Sadly, Rhaena suffered miscarriages in her effort to fulfill her duty to the realm as heir. Some time after Baela bore a daughter, the two sisters united to present Daenaera as Aegon III's queen consort. Alyn also brought back to court an heir with a better claim -- Viserys II -- taking the pressure off of Rhaena to endure more miscarriages to provide heirs. I believe that for Baela, presenting Daenaera and Viserys to court was in part an act of love for her sister, to free her from the demands of being heir. I believe this most likely also took the pressure off of Baela because her own daughter would be Aegon's heir if anything happened to Rhaena and I don't think she wanted that for Laena.

Baela and Rhaena were not the first twin girls whose place in the line of succession was determined by their own choices rather than their birth order, however. Assuming you believe that Rhaella and Aerea (which sounds a bit like Arya) really did switch places at their mother's wedding to Maegor, these two little girls determined their own places in the line of succession by seizing one of the only scraps of agency they would realistically ever get in their lives. Both Sansa and Arya repeatedly demonstrate this same willingness to seize whatever agency they have in the books, though the form that agency takes looks as different for them as it did for Aerea and Septa Rhaella. The twin switch means that the twin who wanted to live with the Faith got to do so and the twin who wanted to explore could do so as well. For Septa Rhaella, I believe there was a certain freedom in giving up her claim to live a quiet life.

I firmly believe that both Sansa and Arya will be significant leaders of some kind by the end of the series. Assuming Bran is king at the end, I think they will have a lot more agency in shaping their own titles/roles as leaders than they might in other circumstances. Or at least that's my hope. Even though I am first and foremost a Sansa fan, I don't think her story needs for her to be Queen in the North. I love the idea of her becoming a leader outside of the traditional power structure she initially wanted to be a part of. As for Arya, I love the idea of her bringing what she learned in her life outside of that power structure to be an effective leader within it.

I think Ned put it best:

"Sansa is your sister. You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you … and I need both of you, gods help me." - A Game of Thrones, Arya II

Shoutout to this ask on @atopvisenyashill for kicking me back into hyperfocus about Visenya's commonalities with Sansa so I remembered that I was ever even working on this... this meta sat unfinished in my drafts since the summer! Many such cases in my drafts, I'm afraid.

[the-curious-butterfly]

A Dappling (or was it called Appling?) short.

PLOT TWIST

After word got out that it was her instead of Daring who woke up Apple, Darling half expected to be chased out of Ever After with torches and pitch forks.

Perhaps not exactly to that extreme but at least something to that extent. She expected mad looks, curses (both literal and verbal) being thrown her way, and an angry mob of princes she could definitely beat in a fight if they lined up one by one. If they came at her all at once, however, it could prove just a tad bit more difficult but she’s pretty sure she can still win against that too.

But she digresses, the point is she expected things to get very bad and very awkward. Well they got awkward alright but not in the very bad way, though she couldn’t really call it the good way either. More like they got awkward in the “okay, I guess this is happening” sort of way.

No, once word had reached a certain person in particular that she, a princess no less, woke Apple from her cursed slumber it took no time at all for her to find herself in the office of one Snow White. The mother of said previously cursed princess and also the Queen of Ever After. And by no time at all she meant no time at all, she doesn’t even remember how she got here or when this semi-large packet came to be in her hands.

Darling decided to ignore the concerning implications that thought had and instead looked down to find in big bold fancy red letters the words: ‘So You Want to Marry My Sweet Apple Dumpling do You?’

There was another phrase underneath with the word ‘Daring’ in it but it had been hastily crossed out so Darling couldn’t exactly read it.

‘Wait….marry?!’

“Ummm, your majesty, what is this?”

The Queen places down her mug with the words ‘fairest of them all’ onto her desk before finally addressing Darling.

“Darling please, call me Snow. We are soon to be family after all.”

“Right…Snow.” It felt so weird to call her by her first name. Not just because she was the Queen but also because Darling was a knight and thus was more use to addressing others the way a knight would, with formality and respect. “What do you mean by soon to be?”

“What do you mean by what do I mean? Will you or will you not be proposing to Apple?” The Queen narrowed her eyes at Darling as if telling her to think carefully about her answer.

“Your majest- I mean Snow, I would love to propose to Apple some day it’s just that you know I thought that you, hex that the entire realm would be upset I wasn’t Daring. Plus we’re both still in school and all.”

“Nonsense, Darling, all Apple’s destiny truly calls for is a Charming, and from what I hear you certainly live up to your namesake. Besides, I’ll have you know the first Snow White was married before she even started school.” (I’m so sorry, I hated learning this but the original Snow White apparently was somewhere around 14 and I completely understand if you want to beat me up for bringing it to your attention.)

“I’m not so sure if that’s something to be proud of, your majesty.” The words were out before Darling could even remind herself who she was saying them to.

“Oh I completely agree, that was the one part of my story I thought was utterly ridiculous.” Phew “Which is why I waited until senior year.”

“Wait, you were also poisoned while attending Ever After High?”

“Darling, I’ll let you in on a secret, most stories end up happening at Ever After High. Hex, as soon as the Evil Queen saw me she tried to poison me. Every day was a fight for my life, those were the best four years I could have ever after wished for.”

“…oh….kay” was all Darling could really think to say.

“Now if you will, turn to page seven.”

“Page seven?” Snow gestured to the packet Darling had forgotten was in her hands. “Oh hex, forgive me I-“ she went completely dead silent as soon as she saw the first few words the page contained.

Heirs and You

“Now granted, this was written with Daring in mind so I never thought I needed to add this which is why I’m saying it now. I don’t mind adoption but your first child must be a product of both you and Apple thus I took the liberty of getting in contact with a renown enchantress who I am certain will be able to help you and…Darling?!”

A loud thud reverberated throughout the room as the knight had passed out before Snow could even finish saying her name.

~~~

Apple come quick, your mother is traumatizing your Prince Charming.

[mysterycharacterflowers]

Round 2; A bouquet of yellow and purple carnations Vs A bouquet of gloriosa (flame lily), veronica, jasione, jacaranda, cyclamen, jasmine and freesia

If you know who they are, or you are pretty sure of it, please don't tell until this poll has ended!

First, let's talk about the bouquet of yellow and purple carnations

Meaning: Carnations in yellow (rejection) and purple (whimsy) Description: A member of the most hated species in the setting, this character cut herself off from the defining trait of her species in order to escape persecution, and well. It worked? But many people have to wonder if her new, carefree life was truly worth the Consequences.

Check their post here

Now, let's talk about the bouquet of gloriosa (flame lily), veronica, jasione, jacaranda, cyclamen, jasmine and freesia

Meaning and why they were chosen: Gloriosa (flame lily), for its symbolism of passion, pride, and honor, as he is a deeply idealistic person who cares so much about doing the right thing, walks the walk, and takes pride in his values. Also, because of the name; fire is an element relevant to him. Veronica, for faithfulness and devotion, especially in a religious context (though the religious context of the flower’s namesake is decidedly different from that of this character). Jasione, for justice, as he is committed to the execution of justice and ultimately breaking cycles of unjust violence, even though he is often trapped between a rock and hard place. With the task of breaking the cycle of revenge (be it on a racial or religious or familial basis; overall it’s all three) comes the understanding that all who came before and tried, failed to solve the rift and got more people killed—some of them even pressured him into committing injustice on their behalf— but he’s not going to give up or stop trying to figure out what justice actually is. Jacaranda, for its symbolism of wealth, knowledge, and rebirth; wealth because he is rich and privileged (in some ways), both wealth and knowledge because he is an economics nerd, and rebirth because he sacrifices one element of himself to accept another. Rebirth also applies in that when his life is uprooted by tragedy and his being made a scapegoat, he makes the most of it and crafts a decent life for himself far from home, giving back to his new community and cultivating new interests. It also symbolizes wisdom and even if he isn’t, uh, wise per se, he’s working on it. Cyclamens, for sincerity, religious devotion (it bears repeating), resignation, reserved love, and lasting feelings. His love for another, tender though it is, is often across significant emotional barriers, barriers of other relationships, and even great physical separation that was forced upon him for years on end. He is by far the most sincere of a duplicitous lot and is sometimes guessed to be even trickier for his earnest-seeming demeanor, but that’s just how he truly is and it can’t be corrupted away. Jasmine, for purity, modesty, and simplicity; he tries to live a modest life in accordance with his religion. Freesia, for trust and innocence; he deserves to be trusted, and suffers from the innocent youthful naivety of thinking his ideals can easily be put into practice if he just takes action Description: A bit of a zealot for a good cause, grows out of black-and-white thinking, and gets a lot more tired because the world is full of tribalism and hate, but he is still so sweet. The younger son of a loving yet terribly messed-up family that unfortunately isn’t the only such family involved. So many people he interacts with get bad vibes from him (to the extent that one guy who worked with him poisons him on the basis of distaste, against all practicality), but that’s seriously not his fault. He can be very intense though. On a completely irrelevant note, he learns that gay people exist when he’s in his 20s and is greatly surprised, even though he has lived with gay people his entire life.

Check their post here

[chaoss-incarnate]

i don't think I've ever seen anyone talking about this but all i can think about since finishing the goldfinch is how theodore decker never truly left new york.

okay so we have 13 year old theo, whose mother just died in the museum, living at the barbour's, and meeting hobie and seeing pippa again. this much is obvious, he's still living in new york, wandering the streets and places where he and his mother frequented, being a shadow of his previous life. at night he dreams of the museum, and wakes up screaming.

his father appears, takes him to vegas. and despite meeting boris and doing all sorts of things with him (drinking, drugs, you name it), he's still 14 year old theo believing his mother is waiting for him back home. he wakes up from the museum more often than not, but i believe this is also when his dreams take a different turn; back in new york, places he would go with his mother, knowing she was there but never seeing her, never being in the same place as her. he longs for her, longs for his old life, believes her death was his fault. he tries to distract himself. like boris says: 'i drink to be happy, but you wanted to die'. boris, who has lived in so many countries, always moving, and theo, with his longing to return to the place he knows.

and then his dad dies and he goes back to new york. 15 year old theo is back in his home city, around the places he knows. places he was with his mother. and of course he goes to hobie's. what else can he do? he goes to college, learns the furniture dealer's way, and for the next eight years he lives in new york, working, wandering the streets. his longing for his childhood with his mother has subdued, mostly, thanks to the controlled (as he believes) substance abuse. he gets engaged to none other than kitsey barbour, and he continues to live his life. he takes her to places he went with his mother, places she never appreciated ('the dingbat'). he continues to love pippa (though, as we all know, that love wasn't healthy - it wasn't really love. he appreciates pippa, her friendship, but he latched on to her because they both share the same trauma and he believes no one will understand him better than she, now that his mother is gone. as the narrator in fight club says: 'you met me at a very strange time in my life.')

the boris appears. he's there and it turns out that he stole the painting. because the painting had followed theo since he was 13, going wherever he went. and now? its halfway across the world. and so now theo follows the painting, all the way to amsterdam.

new york used to be called new amsterdam until the english took over the dutch that lived there and renamed it new york. coincidence that theo ended up in the former namesake of the city he can never escape? the country where fabritius, the painter, was from. it would make sense for the painting to maybe be in delft, the place where it was discovered, where fabritius died, to make it a full circle, but no. amsterdam.

there, theo saw his mother again. he actually saw her. halfway across the world and yet he's somehow still in new york. with her.

the end of the novel is very open. theo travels, of course, to rectify the false furniture he sold, but everything ties him back to new york. his engagement to kitsey isn't over, the barbours expect him to return, someday. he still works with hobie.

'but vivian,' you might think, 'what about pippa? she went through the same thing theo did and yet she spends most of her time out of new york.'

the truth is that we don't know much about pippa. she wasn't present during most of the novel, mostly in theo's mind. we know some things about her: her parentage, music she likes and so on, but we barely know how the explosion affected her.

as she remarks in her letter at the end, she and theo would be bad for each other due to their extreme similarities. she has difficulties because of the explosion. she goes to texas, then switzerland, then london, then california. she can't seem to stay in new york, but she's there a lot of course, hobie's there, and so is theo.

i believe that in this, pippa and theo are opposites: theo, no matter what he does, is always in new york, always returning. somehow he wants to be there, for the memories of his mother. he wants to walk those streets and go to those places they went to together. its painful for him but he'd rather that than be somewhere new. pippa, on the other hand, leaves voluntarily. a lot. of course she wishes to be close to hobie, but she just can't stand to be in new york for the same reason theo stays. pippa walks the streets of new york and thinks 'welty used to take me here, and here' and its unbearable for her.

even so, most nights they both return to the same point, and they both know they'll never leave it, or rather, it'll never leave them.

[ghostofashina]

So I saw a video on the YouTube about a theory that Messmer is the son of the gloam eyed queen and Marika stole him and I, a Godwyn-Messmer twin truther, went "no, no way. Messmer and Godwyn are twins, one of them can't be the GEQ's son.... Unless...."

And then I thought. What if it's not Messmer that is GEQ's stolen son, but Godwyn.

I have three pieces of.... Not exactly evidence because these are all speculative and circumstantial, but I am having fun with it.

1) Godwyn's name. Every other Marika child has the initials of their parents in their name. Mohg and Morgott of Marika and Godfrey; Radahn, Rhykard, and Ranni of Radagan and Rennala; Messmer, Miquella, Malenia, and Melina of Marika and Radaghan (this is a translation thing; Japanese kana use the same symbols for both L and R, so in the original Japanese, the names of Marika and Radagan's children did have both Ms and R's). But. Godwyn. He only has Godfrey's G, no Marika M. Out of her 10 children, only her specialist, most important first born prince son ISNT named after her? Suspicious.

1A: Yes, I realize he does still have Godfrey's namesake. But if Marika stole a son, whos to say she didn't steal a husband as well. After all, the DLC claims that she "seduced" the previous god before her with her "wanton strumpet" ways. Maybe the GEQ had her eyes (eye?) on Godfrey.

1B: Why on Earth would Marika steal the son of an enemy Empyrean and make him her most specialist prince? Well, Godwyn went hard for the golden order. What better way to rub it in an old enemy's face than by stealing her son and making him the literal poster boy of your Golden Order.

2) Godwyn's body got all fucked up when he died. Yes, that was explained by his soul dying while his body lived on, but like. Those Who Live In Death don't have the same transformation, after all. They have something similar, but they can still ambulate. Also, they can be killed for real--Godwyn can't. And sure, maybe it's because he's a demigod.... Buuut if he was the son of the GEQ, the creator of the Rune of Death, perhaps that explains why he became so powerful within death. Before, he was a standard golden boy--he did great things for the golden order, of course, but he didn't seem to have any specific connection to a certain type of magic or outer god like any of the other demigods. But then he died and became the Prince of Death. Not the King of Death, but a Prince. An offspring of a Queen. Maybe Marika.... Or maybe the Queen who made the Rune of Death.

Or it's all baloney and whatever. I still like the idea of twin Messmer and Godwyn more, but it's fun to theory craft. Though, hey, Marika had kids with Rennala, after all. Who's to say she didn't have a kid with the Gloam Eyed Queen too? We stan a bisexual queen.

Hello, hello ~

I am myself a GodMes twins truther LAKSLKAS So yeah, I stand with you. I saw this one and was exactly like that "that can't be uwu i cut their umbilical cord myself"

But, as you said, Godwyn being the outsider is just a very funny scenario. And it fits, it truly did. Especially for what we love the most: angst

@whyyouacknsocraycray made a post once, talking about a possibility of Godwyn being Godfrey's son with someone else — which would explain the G and potentially the GEQ — and it rented a house inside my thoughts, because it's really good just to see this perfect, golden son, being disowned of his reality.

It could work wonders that sort of scenario, perhaps even more than Messmer being the stolen kid. Because we all know about the "seduction and betrayal".

Let's consider two fun scenarios: Marika sends Godfrey to seduce GEQ and, once she births a perfect son, he is stolen — I can even go far weirder here and say she wanted this perfect son to be made so she could use him as the blessing for Messmer's maledictions. Marika once made a blessing for Messmer, but never again.

Or Godfrey was already promised to the GEQ expecting his child and Marika took it all from her — with the help of Godfrey himself, seeing more potential in Marika.

Now: I know shit about the GEQ, I must admit. Never dug into that part of lore. So I have no idea if these scenarios could actually fit in the current timeline lol but, just like you said, it's fun to think of different stuff from usual.

And, it's where the fun begins. I think every scenario that disrupts the "perfect" order is hella interesting. So if we have this golden prince, who grew believing to be the heir (even though he ain't empyrean), the champion of this empire, his mother's most beloved and perfect son... taking it all from him is just tasty.

To see his struggle with reality, considering himself a bastard, suddenly feeling an outsider. I can even see him disappointed with Messmer, accusing him of knowing the truth and hiding it from him. Just delicious angst.

And yes, I agree with you. Even when I don't agree with some theories, I think it's quite cool to invest in different scenarios just to explore all the possibilities — even when they are insane. That's the fun bit. I think these sort of things are more fun when you are invested in making them interesting rather than just right or true.

[visenyav]

Long Shall She Reign: Childhood

Early Life (3k+ words)

TW:

When Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen went into her first labor, she was overjoyed to learn she had borne a son. However, the Princess had already done what she promised to never do, neglect a child for being born a girl. For, when she birthed Jacaerys, she had also borne his twin, none knowing who was born first. So while the Princess held her newborn son, and most likely her heir, the midwives held and hushed the newborn princess. Only when she heard the cries of the newborn, did she realize her existence. The midwife brought the child to her mother. She whispered a soft name and kissed the girl's head. 

Visenya. Princess Visenya Velaryon

However, it was truly a pity in the eyes of her family, when the girl did not live up to her namesake. While her brother’s dragon hatched, a hatchling called Vermax, Visenya’s never hatched and went cold for years on end. The pity turned into disappointment on her mother’s part. For whenever she saw the girl, a slight look of disappointment would cross Rhanerya’s face as she saw the dark haired twins, especially when Jaceaerys was with his hatchling and Visenya with him. Her eyes were particularly fixed on her daughter’s growing dark hair and lack of dragon. For Rhanerya knew the cold truth, her children were born bastards. At least Jace was a boy, an heir in the sight of the realm, and one with a hatchling. Visenya however, was everything the opposite. A girl & a bastard 

For what the princess lacked, however, she made up with grace & joy. She was a smart child, always attentive to her tutors. She loved to hear stories of the far off lands of Essos, like Pentos, Yi Ti and her favorite: The Sultanate of Zarahan. One of her tutors, Lady Zeynap, was a Zarahani herself, in truth. Visenya, ever the studious pupil, learned the tongue of Zarhan as well as Old Valyrian. 

Never once had the girl shown ingratitude, quite the opposite actually. She was the light of King’s Landing, the purest thing to grace the city in years. Never deterred by the rumors of her status or dragonless standing, she was courteous and kind, and gracious. Even the Queen, Alicent, couldn’t find it in her heart to openly antagonize the child, keeping her comments of the girl to her private quarters. For how could she, when Visenya was the constant companion of the queen’s son, Aemond?

For Aemond too was born & grew without his dragon egg hatching and the prince grew bitter of what he perceived as a disability. To only a few was his bitterness tamed, namly his mother and his niece, Visenya. Both were dragonless, loved their studies, and their personalities countered each other. Also, the Princess had grown close to the younger brother of Aemond, Daeron, and was sure to include them both. 

She loved her siblings, Jace & Luke, and it was said that she was her brother's keeper. She discouraged them from the elder uncle, Aegon, and also discouraged them from bullying Aemond. When the incident of the Pink Dread happened, after spending the day comforting Aemond, she confronted her brothers, “If you will taunt him for being dragonless, where does that leave me?”

Once, when the princess was napping after her lessons, her mother’s lady-in-waiting, Elinda Massey, was talking to Lady Zenap, “Poor child. She has a heart of gold, and will grow up to be very beautiful, gods willing. However, I fear that’s the only thing the princess will have in store for herself. If Rhanerya would take my advice, for what it’s worth, she’d betroth & marry Visenya to a rich lord who’s too stupid to know anything about politics. Only then will her daughter be happy. Or at the very least, she could accept Alicent’s proposal to wed Visenya to Aemond,”

If only had Rhaenyra taken Elinda’s advice, and maybe her daughter’s fate would be different. Soon, when the princess was near her eighth name-day, she left King’s Landing for Dragonstone along with her mother, father, Jace, Luke, and the newborn Joffrey. Continuing her studies, the Princess did not know what was in store for her when she went to Driftmark for the funeral of Laena Velaryon.

When arriving in Driftmark, it was understood that Visenya was to be heir. However, it was obvious to everyone that her Grandfather, Lord Coryls ‘The Sea Snake’ Velaryon, preferred Lucerys to her. However, that would no longer matter, when a fight broke out the night of the funeral.

Aemond had done what he always dreamed of. He had claimed a dragon, not just any, but Vhagar, the largest dragon alive. When her cousins Baela and Rhaena had woken Jace, Luke and Visenya, to see what had happened to Vhagar. After hastily tying her hair and strapping the dagger her father had given her, to her side, they went to look. When Visenya could not find it in her heart to criticize Aemond when one of the girl’s said, “It’s him!”

“It’s me!”

Looking distraught, the girl spoke up, “Vhagar is my mother’s dragon!”

“Your mother is dead,” 

“Aemond,” Visenya said warningly, but he paid her no heed,

 “And Vhagear has a new rider now”

“She was mine to claim,” Rhaena cried out, and Visenya’s heart ached for the girl.

“Then you should have claimed her. Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride, it would suit you” 

“Aemond” Visenya sharply rebuked, but as Baela and Rhaena advanced and hit Aemond, with Aemond retaliating, “Baela, Rhaena. Stop this!”

“Come at me again and I will feed you to my dragon” She looked at Aemond in incredulity.

“All of you stop this madness!” She cried out, attempting to stop them but getting hurt in the crossfire 

Fight, fight, fight, fight. The air seemed to say. Eventually, with Luke’s nose bleeding, and the cries and screams and yelps of everyone, everyone paused. 

“You will die screaming in flames just as your father did! Bastards!”

“Aemond!” Visenya cried out, distraught. “And what does that make me?” She echoed her words to her brothers from a year prior. Aemond hesitated for a second before turning his attention to Luke, who had opened his mouth to speak.

“My father is alive!” 

“He doesn’t know, does he, Lord Strong?” He turned to Visenya, “Lady Strong?” Visenya seethed but was unable to do anything as Aemond almost brought a rock down on Jace’s head.

“Jace!” Luke cried out, taking Visenya’s dagger.

“Luke, no, Luke… NO!” Visenya reached out for her brother as he slashed Aemond's eye out. As Aemond fell to the ground, Visenya took the dagger from her brother’s hand. As the Kingsguard came in and saw the look on the faces of the children, especially Visenya’s dazed eyes, they saw the dagger fall from the princess’s hand.

Silence

“How could you allow such a thing to happen? I will have answers!” The King, her grandsire, demanded.

The White Cloak hesitated. “The princes were supposed to be in bed, my king.”

“Who had the watch?”

“The young prince was attacked by his own cousins, your grace—”

“You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!”

“We’re very sorry, Your Grace,” The Cloak said, followed by Criston speaking.

“The Kingsguard has never had to protect princes from princes, Your Grace,” Ser Criston spoke, getting cut off by the King.

“That is no answer!”

“It will heal, will it not, Maester?” Alicent asked desperately, attempting to hold her son.

The Maester looked to her regretfully, “Flesh will heal, but the eye is lost, your grace.” 

“Where were you?” Alicent screeched, turning to her oldest son.

He looked at her in surprise, “Me?” Slap “Ow. What was that for?”

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in cups, you fool.” She seethed.

Coryls Velaryon had entered the room, his granddaughters running to him. What is the meaning of this? Who did this?”

Rhanerya rushed to the bleeding Lucerys and checked Jace for bruises, brushing past her daughter.

Looking directly at the party that just entered, Aemond spoke, “They attacked me!”

“Enough!” 

“He tried to kill Jace!” Luke accused, trying to defend themselves.

“Enough!” Viserys ordered, and silence overtook the room.

Still in her daze, Visenya whispered, “He called us bastards.”

“Aemond, I will have the truth of what happened. Now.” 

“What else is there to hear?” Alicent scoffed in incredulity, “Your son has been maimed, and her son is responsible.” 

In an attempt to justify the incident, Rhanerya managed to get out, “It was a regrettable accident.” 

“Accident? Look at the blade, Rhaenyra. Your daughter. She spat out spitefully, “This is the blade of Princess Visenya. Even if she did not swing the blade, she meant to kill my son.”

Clearly angered at being accused, a shout of “I did not!” Escaped the princess' mouth. Her mother hushed her and spoke once more.

“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves. Vile insults were levied against them.”

“What insults?” The king spoke after a hesitation. 

“The legitimacy of my children’s birth was put loudly to question.” Rhanerya spoke plainly, seeking the higher

“What?” Pure shock and anger was evident on the face of the king as his daughter spoke once more.

“My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, and their legitimacy is put to question. This is the height of treason; Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slander.” 

Visenya looked to her mother in disbelief and opened her mouth to speak before Alicent beat her to it.

“Over an insult?” Alicent scoffed in disbelief. “My son has lost an eye.”

You tell me, boy.” Viserys leaned down to his son, no longer the kind and pliant king. “Where did you hear this lie?”

Clearly the Prince had heard it from someone; perhaps it was his Lady Mother, but the name he uttered was, “It was Aegon.”

His brother sounded shocked. “Me?”

Viserys approached Aegon, “And you, boy? Where did you hear such calumnies? Aegon! Tell me the truth!”

“We know, Father,” Aegon answered, staring off into space before turning to his father. “Everyone knows. Just look at them.”

“This interminable infighting must cease!” Viserys growled, stomping his cane, perhaps to emphasize the point no one believed.“All of you! We are a family.”

“Now make your apologies and show good will to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it.”

“That is simply insufficient.” Alicent spoke, tears clear in her eyes. “Aemond has been damaged, permanently, my king,” Alicent continued. “‘Good will’ cannot make him whole.”

Turning to his wife, “I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye.” 

“No, because it has been taken,” Alicent urged.

“What would you have me do?”

“There’s a debt to be paid.”

Looking at the queen with a frown, Visenya spoke, “Are they going to try and take his eye?” 

“I don’t want them to take my eye!” Lucerys yelped.

But of course, the Queen wanted naught, “I shall have one of her son’s eyes in return.”

“My dear wife,” Viserys pleaded, for was he supposed to choose between his wife and his daughter?

Anguish was clear in her voice. The queen pleaded once more. “He is your son, Viserys. Your blood.”

“Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment,” Viserys warned sternly.

“If the king will not seek justice, then the queen will.” Alicent’s voice had turned cold and determined. With tear-streaked cheeks, she looked upon her sworn sword. “Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.”

Flinching, Lucerys backed away. “Mother!”

As if to be merciful, the queen spoke in a broken yet hard tone, “He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son.”

“You will do no such thing,” 

“Ser Criston! You are sworn to me! Bring me his eye,” Alicent commanded. For all of his respect for the Queen, he did not do such a thing.

“Stay your hand,” Viserys ordered the Kingsguard, eyes fixed and stern upon his wife, “Alicent… this matter is finished. Do you understand?

“And let it be known; anyone whose tongue dares question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra’s children should have it removed.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Perhaps, as if sensing his daughter's growing anger and paranoia as her hands neared the king’s knife, Otto spoke up, “You, Grace,” the King looked to him, “It is a true shame such words were ever spoken tonight; their reliability be damned.” Alicent looked to her father in betrayal, but his eyes never strayed from the King, as if telling his daughter to have patience, “However, it is true a tragedy of the highest magnitude occurred today in regards to his grace’s son. The children are not to blame for the words they uttered, but one must ask why a knife was there in the first place. And some voices say the king is… unfair to his children.” His eyes fixed on Visenya. “Such words would not be articulated if certain actions were to take place.”

“And what are you proposing, Otto?” The king inquired.

“I propose that one of the children of the princess be stripped of their title as a prince or princess of the realm. and named a bastard, a Waters, as penance for the harm done to Prince Aemond. Not for their blood, no, of course not, Your Grace, but for the actions of their kin, which have brought disgrace upon this family.”

“You would dare?” Rhanerya screeched and looked to her father, but the king seemed to be considering the proposal.

“If I may speak plainly, Princess, I must rearticulate that whispers say the King is unfair in the treatment of his children. And what would the courts say if a prince of the blood was maimed without consequence? My dear Princess, such words do provide much harm.” His eyes fell on Visenya. “The one who brought the knife, perhaps?” 

“Indeed, Princess,” Alicent agreed, “Husband. She is dragonless, and she is the one who brought a blade. Such behavior is not… befitting of a princess.”

“Father?” The princess looked to the king.

“A compromise must be reached, my daughter,” The king spoke softly.

“Fath—” She was cut off by her father’s stare. As if sensing the finality in her father's voice, “But of course.”

“Mother?” Visenya whispered, “Grandsire?” Both refused to meet her eyes, which only made the girl’s heart sink farther.

“Visenya Velaryon is no longer a princess of this realm," he declares, his voice heavy with regret. "She shall henceforth be known as Visenya Waters. But let it be clear—she is not declared a bastard of blood, only in title."

And as the princess, no, girl, was escorted out of the room. She could feel her world breaking, but that was not the worst of it.

— — — — — —

For the rest of the week, Visenya stayed alone in her room, visited none but her Septa and Lady Zeynep. On the last day, a small bag was packed, but the girl was defiant.

"I’m not going!" She decided, her voice trembling but sure. "I won’t go to King’s Landing. You can’t make me!"

Her Septa narrowed her eyes. “Madam Visenya, this is not a choice. We will leave on the morrow, and we will do so without further tantrums."

Visenya’s hands curled into fists. "It’s not fair!" She looked to the Septa with hurt but defiant eyes. "I didn’t do anything!"

The septa sighed heavily, her tone cold and sharp as she approached the girl. "Fairness is not for you to decide, child. You will listen, or I shall hit you.” 

The words froze Visenya in place. Her defiance melted into fear, and she took a step back, her voice small now. Never before had anyone threatened her. "You wouldn’t…."

The septa scoffed, "Try me, child."

Zeynap, the girl's beloved tutor, stepped forward, her brows furrowed with concern. "Must you treat her this way, Madam?" She asked, her accented voice tinged with both unease and indignation.

The septa turned sharply toward Zeynap, her lips pursed with disapproval. "She is no longer a princess," she said curtly. "She is a bastard. And she will act accordingly."

Zeynap’s expression darkened, her hands tightening into fists at her sides, but she bit her tongue. For all her outrage, she knew she had no power to argue. Instead, she knelt beside Visenya, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "Come, little one," she said softly, her tone warm and soothing. "We must pack your things. You’ll need them for the journey."

Visenya pulled away, her face red with anger and humiliation. "I hate all of you!" she cried, her voice breaking as she turned and buried her face in her arms.

Zeynap’s heart ached at the sight, but the septa’s cold voice cut through the moment. "Enough of this nonsense. You leave tomorrow, and you will obey, as a bastard should."

The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, Zeynap thought she saw something shatter in the young girl’s eyes. And so Zeynap remained kneeling beside the girl, her hand still gently resting on Visenya’s arm. The child’s body trembled, her small shoulders heaving as she silently cried into her folded arms.

The septa turned back to the trunk, her movements brisk and mechanical. "Zeynap, finish packing her things. There’s no time to coddle her."

Zeynap didn’t answer immediately, her gaze fixed on Visenya. "My lady," she said softly, ignoring the septa’s sharp tone, "I know it feels unfair. I know it hurts. But I promise you, you won’t always feel this way. You’re stronger than they think, little one."

Visenya sniffled and looked up, her violet eyes red-rimmed and glistening with tears. "Why does everyone hate me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I did all that was expected of me. I minded my manners, said my prayers, was gracious and kind, and never complained nor hurt anyone. But no one wants me; even Muna doesn’t love me anymore. She never did." The girl’s voice broke, tears falling down her cheeks.

Zeynap felt her heart crack at the words. She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from the child’s face. "Your mother loves you," she said firmly. "Never doubt that."

"Then why won’t she look at me?" Visenya shot back, her voice rising in frustration. "Why hasn’t she come to see me? Why haven’t Jace or Luke said goodbye?"

Zeynap hesitated, unsure how to respond. She glanced at the septa, who was now watching them with a frown of disapproval. Lowering her voice, Zeynap leaned closer. "Sometimes," she whispered, "the people we love don’t know how to handle their feelings. They’re scared or ashamed, and instead of facing it, they run away. That doesn’t mean they don’t love you."

Visenya stared at her for a long moment. "I don’t believe you," she muttered, her voice flat.

Zeynap sighed and stood, glancing at the septa. "I’ll finish the packing," she said quietly, her tone resigned.

The septa gave a curt nod and left the room without another word, leaving Zeynap and Visenya alone.

Once the door closed, Zeynap knelt beside the trunk, carefully folding the remaining clothes. "Visenya," she said gently, "I know this isn’t what you want. But sometimes, when life pushes us in a new direction, it’s because something better is waiting."

Visenya didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on the darkening sky outside.

Zeynap hesitated, then added, "And no matter what anyone says, no matter what names they call you—you are still you. You are still you, and no one can take that away."

For a moment, the room was silent except for the soft rustle of fabric. Then, in a small voice, Visenya whispered, "Do you promise?"

Zeynap looked up, meeting the child’s tear-filled eyes. "I promise," she said firmly.

Visenya nodded slightly, her small frame still trembling but her expression hardening with quiet resolve. "Then I’ll go," she said, her voice steady but laced with sorrow.

Zeynap smiled faintly, her chest aching with pride and sadness. "That’s my brave girl," she said softly, reaching out to squeeze the child’s hand.

As Zeynap closed the trunk and stood, she glanced back at Visenya, who still stood by the window, her tiny silhouette framed against the fading light. At that moment, Zeynap prayed that the gods would watch over the child—and that someday, the world’s cruelty towards her would turn to kindness. But that was but a dream.

— —

The trip to King’s Landing was a lonely one. Avoided by all in the ship except Zeynap, the girl only fell further into despair. When she asked Zeynap if she could speak to her Gransire, the King, Zeynap only looked at her with a look of deep sorrow.

“My dear,” she knelt next to Zeynap, “You are barred from speaking to any member of the royal household on this trip, unless spoken to.”

When Zeynap spoke those words, it was the thing that solidified the growing thoughts. Visenya was thinking, I have no family. My family doesn’t love me. They hate me; I disgust them.

What Visenya didn’t know was that she had spoken these words out loud, and Zeynap saw the joy that once filled Visenya’s eyes fully shatter. “Visenya,” she whispered weakly, drawing the girl into her arms, causing the girl to sob. “My dear girl, I’m so sorry.”

— 

When they reached King’s Landing, Otto Hightower had dismissed Zeynap and took Visenya with him in a carriage. The ride was quiet, with Visenya looking away from the man who ruined her life and playing with her fingers. When they passed the Keep, Visenya looked to Otto, “Lord Hand. Where are we going? We’ve passed the Keep…”

“Hush, girl.” The words stung, but she kept quiet as he handed her a cloak and wore his own. They stepped out of the carriage, pulled their hoods, and walked for some time before coming upon a modest establishment in streets that were forbidden for her to go before.

“Are we in the streets of silk?” He shot her an appraising look before knocking on the door.

The door opened, revealing a lady with olive skin and dark hair. "Lady Mysaria," Otto said, handing her a heavy bag. "This is the girl."

Mysaria raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint, humorless smile. "A fine mess you’ve brought me, Lord Hand," she said, her voice laced with an accent Visenya couldn’t place.

"She’ll be your responsibility now," Otto said curtly. "Keep her hidden. Keep her alive."

Mysaria stepped closer, her gaze softening slightly as she looked at Visenya. "What’s your name, little one?"

Visenya swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "Visenya."

[aspergerasparagus]

Knight

"Male", he/him, 5.5ft, Hyperdyne Systems 120-A/2

Role: Science/Research officer

Assignment: Research Station - Darwin (Former: Botany research facility - Mangnoliophyta aka Magnolia)

Background:

A later model of the 120-A/2 model of synthetics manufactured in 2140, he was originally produced to work in one of one the Weyland-Yutani’s botany research facilities, specifically in the creation of new species of flowering plants that would be able to survive the harsher conditions that they were facing on newly terraformed planets. He was very successful in his endeavor, with him and his team being able to genetically modify a number of plants to improve their survivability and adaptation, while also being able to personally create a variety of new species/varieties of flowering plants. 

However during this time he started to butt heads with his team leader and some of the other employees due to their distrust of the synthetic and Knight’s temperament. Things eventually came to a head when the team leader was found dead, supposedly due to cardiac arrest, but the other team members suspect that Knight had poisoned him given his botanical knowledge and access to a number of dangerous plants he was cultivating himself.

When other members of the team started to experience unexplained sickness and symptoms, Weyland-Yutani was contacted and Knight removed from his position due to the potential suspected danger he posed. Obviously Knight himself would deny he would use his plants to harm a human, but he did always need test subjects.

Instead of being decommissioned due to his apparent hostility towards humans, he was upgraded (along with new protocols and directives being installed) and given to the daughter of a board member of Weyland-Yutani, Annabella, to assist in her genetic studies and modification of Prometheus' fire aboard the Darwin. 

Personality:

A bitter and rather sour character, Knight doesn’t try to hide his synthetic nature from the crew on the Dawin, with him refusing to interact with many of the human staff or partake in any social interactions with them. 

The only human he actively interacts with, bar managers and higher up, is Annabella, with whom he spends most of his time with, be this in their shared lab or during their off hours. Originally he despised the woman, seeing her as an outlet to his frustration of being removed from his original assignment and being made to act like her personal nanny by her father due to her condition. But with time, and some mild bribery from her, he did warm up to her, with other staff members saying that Knight was now living up to his namesake.

Distrusting of humans and more than aware that they all have alternative motives, Knight tends to keep things to himself he doesn’t think they need to know and never trusts anything anyone says. This has led to him becoming more paranoid overtime, be it about the work they are carrying out, the company, or the other staff members, especially if it concerns Annabella or his plants. This paranoia has also resulted in him isolating Annabella from her other coworkers, micromanaging a large percentage of her daily life and forming a dependency on her. 

With a shorter temper than the other 120-A/2 series, Knight is irritated fairly easily with staff and while he won’t (normally) resort to violence he is known to be rather cunning and cruel when the need arises. This might show up as staff being anonymously reported for unprofessional conduct or contraband being found on them or if the synthetic is truly pissed then the cause of his ire might find themselves in the medical bay due to an unknown illness.

While most staff would describe the synthetic as full of himself and condescending, he does have a soft side buried down in the deepest part of his circuitry which few will ever see, unless they catch him tending to his garden or taking care of Annabella out of work hours.

Appearance:

Physically he appears almost identical to all the other 120-A/2 models, except for one eye being a different colour, a dark brown instead of the typical blue. This was due to it needing to be replaced after an injury he sustained aboard the Darwin and no other parts from the same model being available. He also suffers from perpetual RBF and typically only scowls or looks disinterested when being talked to by the human staff.

He typically wears the same uniform all science staff aboard the station wear, modified medical scrubs in Weyland-Yutani’s colour scheme. The main difference is the multiple pins and patches Annabella has added to his to “customise” it. These mostly consist of company/station patches along with a number of pins she has collected over the years. Most of these are botany/flower themed.

Additional info:

Very good at card games and tricks. Something he learned from his earlier life and also knows how to cheat at them pretty effectively. 

Adores plants and has a hidden garden set up in his room with seeds and plants Annabella has acquired for him due to her position.

Typically runs his battery almost dry as he hates being out of commission during the charging time.

Has monitors implanted that track and monitor Annabella to detect if she’s wandered off or having a meltdown.

[mercysought]

person's got to make a living. for maxima

Maxima clicks her tongue, hearing it crack against the ceiling of her mouth as she turns to look at Varric. It hurt her to see him so fragile, it felt so deeply wrong that truthfully if she didn't have to force herself to do it she wouldn't have. The fight against the fear for her own mortality was becoming harder and harder to keep at bay, especially as those around her kept wanting to be heroes.

   "You are going to get yourself killed." she says flatly, slowly getting up from the small couch and looking around the room that had become his, for lack of a better expression, gilded cage. Given the outcome of the last attack that the Dread Wolf had inflicted upon Minrathous, this was likely a good thing, at least more people to prevent him from attempting something stupid again.

Maxima could be asked: 'what could they have done instead?'. And she would not have a good answer. She hadn't heard the details of what had happened, she had been unfortunately too busy to track down the other people and she wouldn't want to pry, the details weren't important. Not if it came at a cost to Varric.

   "You've been making a few more serious attempts as of recent." she adds, narrowing her eyes and glancing once more to him, slowly pulling a cigarette from her golden box and placing it over her lips "If you wanted to sell your portion of our endeavors so desperately, you could have just offered them to me for one gold piece."

She hums, snapping her fingers in front of the edge that hang from her mouth. The flame flickers in and out, holding it between her fingers, it doesn't take long before she has a halo of cherry-scented tobacco around her head "I'd question your mental soundness, but you wouldn't need to twist my arm."

She grants him one half cruel, half amused grin as she turns towards where he rested.

Maxima wondered, pondered, as the silence hang momentarily: why; why all this? And why go through such a dangerous task himself. She knew of the general outlines of the work that he and the Inquisitor were doing. For her own sake, she didn't ask for more details than those that could be useful to keep herself and her nation safe - the Dread Wolf and how that tied to elvhen legend was enough to instill the namesake feeling given everything else that was going on. And yet, he had been there to face him - and from what Maxima had understood - only with three other people.

The fact that no one had truly died was a thing of wonder.

   "What does the Sidria think about what happened?" she asks, though she can likely make an educated assumption. Pausing, she watches as he opens his mouth, her right hand is raised as her brow crooks. It was not often that the magister joined their small meetings, it was often far lighter, more fun, the discussion of contracts, legal arrangements, shifting in priorities - implications of politics and the following steps.

But she had dealt with more bolder venatori since their last meeting, and she also knew enough to tell when a conversation was about to derail. So her hand was raised, golden rings glimmering against the little light in the room "No. Whatever you were about to say, reconsider—"

The smoke of her waving hand follows lazily, warming up softly as it hovered over the dim, soft lights around them. Give it another thought, take a moment and then you can start.

Is what her hands tell him as she makes her way back to the battered dwarf. Only when she sits back down on the comfortable couch just opposite to him does she finally allow herself to look at him properly since she first arrived on that day.

She had hoped he would look better this time and yet not much seemed to have changed. He still looked terribly bruised and the bandages that peeked just beyond the shirt made her feel nervous despite only imagining that he was receiving the best care. She wondered when the line would be drawn and he would need to be rushed to a good physician. If it wouldn't be too late.

   "We both know it's not about making a living." she finally says, waving her hand as one of the bottles of wine that she had brought to float in their direction "So I need an explanation: why does my business partner seem so intent at throwing everything away? I've cleared my afternoon for this, so spin me a story worthy enough."

the banner saga part 1 & midnight cowboy // @extravagantliar (and @martyrmarked) // accepting

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Dark aemond/dark aegon x oc reader snippet PLEASE BE PATIENT IM SORRY I WONT LEAVE AGIAN

Aegon's pov though.

Aegon married you and aemond is ...aemond, xD

Aegon's pov

Headaches plague me, visions of Maella dance around in that likely empty casket I call my head, as I sit the comfiest chair out of them all, yet I might as well sit on a chair, made of bones and skulls. Isn’t that all a throne is, in truth? A structure, a prison, made out of blood, bones, and skulls. We tell ourselves we do it for our families, for our loved ones, for our House, for duty, for love, for everything you can possibly think of. But we don’t do it for the reason we should be sitting there in the first place. We don’t do it for the people. No Targaryen ever cared about the smallfolk. No Targaryen ever will. 

A voice raspy, ghostly almost and most certainly haunting in a way, reminds me I am not alone, not even in my head. Not even in my own damn castle. ‘’Cheer up, brother. It is your wedding day.’’ My head snaps to the direction of a smirking brother who raises his cup at me in mockery and spite. 

He may act as ignorant and dutiful as he wishes, I know the true reason he is acting as if his lady troubles came two months earlier: He craved Maella. He didn’t love her, no. He wanted her for his own sick twisted fantasies, fantasies he claims he didn’t have, as he was the better brother. Love, we don’t know that concept. Neither of us truly do. Aemond lured her in his trap, Aemond killed her brother, slew a dragon, imprisoned the little lizard Maella owns as well and he brought her here. I should be thankful, shouldn’t I? He brought a traitor to me.

Yet the imbeciles on the council, they married me to this, bastard princess. She is not a true Targaryen, not fully. I suppose neither of us are, if we are being truthful. But at least me and my siblings aren’t bastards. She is. She is a spawn from Rhaenyra and Harwin and now my wife. My lady. 

I instantly reach for my own cup, throwing back as much wine as my throat can swallow, but it almost does nothing to dull the pain. I can only pretend it takes away my suffering, as the wine has become useless to dull my senses. Aemond has approached, now standing in front of me, wearing the ghost of a smile and his black still bloodied clothing. I raise my eyebrows at him, challenging him to speak, to make this snoozefest of a wedding entertaining. He is good at that. 

But my brother pretends to be modest, he rather plays tricks, toys with words, and deceives than he would ever dare speak his true mind. Gods save us all for when he does. ‘’You look like a man who is facing his execution. Not a man who is soon to lay with  arguably the most beautiful creature the gods have ever created.’’ He avoids my eyes at all costs, folding his hands on his back and keeps his eyes scanning the crowd. Maella is beautiful, yes. But I never cared for her.

When we were fourteen and six, she chased me around, declaring her foolish love for me. I believe I was drunk and yet somehow hungover too, so I threw her doll in the river, and promised her she’d be thrown in next if she didn’t leave me. Oddly, we never talked after that. I mean, why would we? She, the Princess of the Kingdoms, the Delight of the realms, truly. And me…

A man who will never truly live up to his famous namesake.

I have two wives now, his crown, his throne, his sword, his blood and his hair. But nothing will change the fact that I feel unworthy of it all. I feel as a forgery playing a masterpiece, and that someone can pull the curtain any time now. 

Aemond doesn’t see it, the fool. He sees that I sit a throne he aspires to have, have two beautiful women to lay with whenever I tell them to and more power and status than any of us deserve. The gods are cruel where they put their power, I suppose. ‘’I don’t enjoy being forced into marriages.’’ I comment, playing with my cup and watching the wine dance at the bottom of the cup. 

My younger brother snorts. ‘’You don’t know how much effort I put into capturing her, bringing her here and breaking her will for you so you have a good, obedient wife. At least pretend you are happy.’’

‘’For me?’’ I scoff. ‘’You didn’t do shit for me. You did it for yourself. Grandfather told me, you wanted her to become your wife, you even told him you'd happily breed, and fuck her until she is with child-''

''Someone has to. You won't do it.'' Aemond comments. ''You only see her as a helpless little girl. She is not the helpless little girl anymore. She has become a woman.''

''Don't talk that way about my wife-''

‘’She is not your wife-’’ Aemond hisses through his teeth, glaring in my direction. I slam my cup down on the table next to me, and the guests around us all fall silent.

I warn him. ‘’She is. You do well to remember that.’’

Aemond lowers his head, but his good eye is burning with fire unlike anything I ever saw before. Maella is not his love, it his obesession. I am sure he'd kill her, or she will kill him, if I let them come too close. ''Ýour grace.''

----

snippet ends here.