#we should be slightly worried for Daeron though

[dirtytransmasc]

more HCs:

Aegon is very protective of Daeron, in a way, cause Daeron doesn't age in his mind, Daeron could be 3 times his size and he'd still just be a little baby in his mind. Aegon's also not great at being a good big brother in the traditional sense, but in the clumsy, sometimes counterproductive, borderline concerning way. they're fine (when Aegon's being particularly broody, Daeron's like one of those kids holding an 🆘 sign against the window on the highway, he needs protection from the overprotective and frankly nonsensical mother henning)

for example, if Daeron had been at the Driftmark petition, Aegon would have grabbed his whole head like a helicopter mom trying to cover his eyes and ears at the same time, almost instantaneously. was he himself too dissociated to tell what was happening? maybe. did that stop the protective big brother instinct from activating? no, no not at all (he was smothering him, Helaena had to tug his arm away so Daeron could breathe)

another example. Daeron asked to go to a brothel, which should have been right up Aegon's alley, but instead he gasped, mouth covered and all, before scolding him. he knows his logic about which siblings are allowed to do what makes no sense. it doesn't matter. Daeron's just a little guy and doesn't belong in a whore house.

Aegon feels like he's going to stroke out watching Daeron on Tessarion, cause they're nimble and young and wild. he and sunfyre are no better, he's just dramatic.

one night when the siblings ran off to flea bottom, Daeron showed some of his zest when someone tried to hassle Helaena. he called them a cunt. Aegon gasped, covered his mouth, then Daeron's, told him to wash his mouth out, before continuing to cuss the person who started it all.

as they traverse through flea bottom, he keeps tugging Daeron close and covering his eyes to shield him from the profane. Daeron tried to argue that he had taken Aemond and Helaena to silk Street when they were younger than him and that he didn't shield there eyes, but he's quickly hushed.

will show something along the lines of "how dare you do/say/etc. such a thing in front of my sweet sweet baby brother" at the most random things.

anyway. my point is simple; Aegon being an overbearing and mushy big brother to his baby brother, who is an overly affectionate drunk, and mother hen's his brother to death, is the only agenda to be had.

Edit: continuation here

[dreamedfyre-a]

❝ You may not be a Targaryen by blood, but you were wed to a Targaryen king and birthed another, as well as three more dragonriders besides. I should think none of us would see our mother shamed in the streets — and that even should my lord husband say otherwise, he is not currently of clear mind, ❞ Fierceness had always been for Aemond, but Helaena finds her edge too at times, a flame that is all dragonfire. Destructive, but only in the way Dreamfyre was destructive when her own were threatened.

Take me instead, she had offered, bargain and plea, on the night Jaehaerys' blood stained her hands. Gentleness did not make her incapable of acting, life laid down gladly should it protect her children. Failed though her attempt had been, no hesitation had tinged it — and neither would it now. Mother's hand held in her own, the melancholy often found in her gaze of late abates in favor of aught more resolute. Her family deserves better, real protection ( not unsteady, failing, flawed ); but Helaena would do everything to hold the line.

❝ A fact I should be glad to remind the council of, as Aegon's queen, ❞ Mother's word would not dissuade them from following a certain course should Aegon dictate it, and criticism might cast suspicion upon Ser Criston; yet they couldn't quite dismiss the king's wife when it concerned his state, could they? Helaena shall never be fond of her crown, accursed match to Aegon's own; sorrow and pain, hand in hand. Let its power mean more than a death sentence, for once; If it could allow any of them some measure of protection, wear it would be a burden willingly borne.

❝ Marriage is... ❞ dreadful an option, yes, but likely. How can they prevent it? Someone would need to claim the child to avoid the mantle of bastardy. Ser Criston could not do it himself; the oaths of the Kingsguard were for life. ❝ Can we try to find a — slightly less... a match that may not be terrible? ❞

For all the worries, mother's face brightens with a smile; hesitant, sincere, unlike most of her smiles. Helaena only notices the concerned frown she had been wearing as the expression melts into something softer at the sight, eyebrows no longer pressed together.

Many a reason to fear, yet joy found its way to the Dowager Queen's heart. It cannot mend her own wounds, yet it soothes them, if briefly. Bittersweet solace; a mother that was meant for motherhood. Good thing she can finally enjoy it. Good thing she is a mother, not a monster.

Her sibling would be lucky; luck Jaehaera and Jaehaerys and Maelor did not have.

❝ You wanted this one, ❞ said softly, not in accusation. Helaena knows; childbed is their duty, at times their doom, seldom their choice. It does not mean a lack of love ( wouldn't it be easier, then? no guilt for a sword pointed at the neck of her child, no sorrow for the boy whose head they had taken — undeserved reprieve ). ❝ A child born from love. ❞

❝ I should like to meet my littlest sibling, when the time comes. ❞ Not while the dragons danced. Hand slips from mother's grip, picking at her skin once more. Should mother leave, Helaena cannot follow; these are her halls to haunt, inhabited by her ghosts and the shadows she had learned to fear. Her end would be here.

A concern for a different time. 

Glimpses of memory, more feeling than painted picture, remind her of the previous time mother had been pregnant. Aemond had been born soon after her, yet Helaena had been five by the time Daeron came, and quite eager to meet her youngest sibling. Slightly disappointed, as well; she had remained the only girl amongst Alicent's children. ❝ Regardless of what the baby is, though a sister would be lovely, I think. ❞

"...Helaena, it was a matter of getting ahead of this before it slipped from my hands," Alicent offered up, apology glimmering in her eyes. She watches her daughter and reaches a hand out for her. In truth, she felt awful for not telling Helaena first. If anyone would've supported her, it would be her. But, secrets like these had a way of slipping out unwanted.

And it was better to be in control of it than at its MERCY. Especially when the lives of others were on the line.

She bows her head, guilt gnawing away at her. "I am sorry you had to find out that way. I...I needed to ensure that no one suspected Ser Criston." Her eyes water at his harsh recriminations, even though they had discussed it prior to the meeting. And, as unlikely and impossible as it could be--it would have been comforting to have an ally. She had kept him as her Hand, and she knew he was obligated to report this to Aegon.

Perhaps that was a good thing. His report could imply his innocence, and emphasize his commitment to duty to the realm.

Aemond already knew--his shrewd gaze raking between his mother and her Hand, though he remained silent. She had sensed a small shred of RESPECT in his eyes at her refusal to back down, to cower. Though she knew he would now use her pregnancy as an excuse to dismiss her from the council.

She knew her news would be out among the realm before nightfall and she could imagine the JESTS that the Black Council would find at her sin.

Alicent leaned her head back against the chair, closing her eyes for a moment while she contemplated. It would be so easy to just allow her father to return, assume the duties as REGENT and she could take her children and grandchildren to Oldtown. She wished it was that simple. To be a quiet country woman who'd lain with another, simple country man out of wedlock.

But because of who they were, a sword now dangled precariously over their necks.

When her eyes open, she's looking at her daughter, a mask of weariness on her features. "I...I do not know. I expect Lord Jasper or Aegon will insist I make the Walk of Atonement. Or marry me off to some distant lord. Suffice it to say, this was not planned and surely will be our undoing. But I..." A little smile plays on her face and she shakes her head. It's silly and she's aware of the ramifications. And yet, as always with Helaena, she feels comfortable in their relationship to share her feelings. She can always trust her daughter. The truly BEST of the Targaryens. "I cannot help but also be some excited."

[lflores2008]

Beginning of the end

It’s been 10 years since Rhaegar and Daeron's birth. In those ten years a lot has changed and some has stayed the same. Rhaenyra has had two more sons, while Alyssa has given birth to two more sons as well. After Alyssa had given birth to their third child Drogo The Queen once again requested to have the child be brought to her idmeatly, though unlike last time Harwin demanded Alyssa to stay in bed with their child while Harwin went to confront the King himself. Once in his Good Father’s presence he announces to his king that he will be leaving along with his wife and their three little children will be joining him. Despite the fact that King Viserys was upset by the announcement, Viserys gave Harwin his blessing to leave. Everybody assumed that Harwin would take his family to Harrenhal as he is next to become Lord of Harrenhal as this was something he was planning on doing originally but something in his gut stopped him from doing so. In the end Harwin and Alyssa agreed to head to DragonStone. Though it would seem that Harwin’s gut feeling was right when news of his father’s passing caused by a fire at Harrenhal, had reached him.

After putting their children to bed which took a little longer than usual with their youngest Lyonel who was only two years old, and has had the trouble of mixing his day and night around for the past few days lately. Alyssa walks into their bedchamber to see Harwin sitting on the edge of their bed clenching the piece of paper that had the news of his father’s passing. Turning around Alyssa softly closed the door to their bedchamber before joining her husband on their bed as Alyssa hugs him from behind not bothering to say anything. Knowing there was nothing Alyssa could possibly say that could make this better she simply decides to hold him closer letting him know that she is there for him through her actions. Harwin wasn’t the only one Alyssa was worried about. She worries for Rhaenyra and for Rhaenyra’s children. Ser Lucien had excored Lord Lyonel to Harrenhal had also perished in the fire alongside Lord Lyonel.

“We should leave soon if we want to be there before your father’s funeral.” Alyssa mutters in Harwin’s ear as places soft kisses on his jaw and neck, stopping when she feels him tense underneath her. “No!” Harwin says harshly confusing Alyssa as Harwin breaks their embrace to stand by the fire that was burning in their room to help bring warmth throughout the cold night. “What is the matter?” Alyssa questions her husband from her place on their bed. “Nothing, forgive me I did not mean to snap at you like that.” Harwin says after taking a few seconds to himself. “No, do not act like this.” Alyssa begs. “Like what?” Harwin knows what she means but refuses to acknowledge it. “We swore to each other the day we were married that no matter what we would confined in each other with anything that could trouble us. Yet here you are pulling from me.” Alyssa reminds him of the promise they made to one another. “What is bothering you, my love.” Alyssa questions once again as she now stands behind her husband with her hands on his back. Singhing Harwin turns to her and grabs Alyssa by her waist bringing her into his embrace. “You are right, though that is of no surprise there, my love .” Harwin says slightly amused. “I fear I’ve allowed myself to be blinded by something that has always been there, and now it is too late to fix it.” Harwin confesses to her, further confusing Alyssa even more.

“I do not understand.” Alyssa tells him. “The rumors surrounding my brother, I believe, hold some truth.” Harwin tells her slowly while Alyssa looks at him with shock. Alyssa knew which rumors he was talking about and as much as she was filled with disbelief a part of her wasn’t at the same time. Since before Harwin and Alyssa started courting, Alyssa has shared a few conversations with Larys, and even though Larys had been nothing but kind to her, even welcoming her with open arms when Alyssa became a part of the family. Alyssa could not deny that there was something about her good brother that kept her on edge. Something in her gut that kept telling her to keep her guard up around him. “Do you have proof?” Alyssa asks knowing those kinds of accusations are not to be taken lightly. “Some of the Knights from the City’s watch have remained loyal to me. One of them had a letter delivered to me personally, in the letter it said he had overheard a conversation between Queen Alicent and my brother regarding the deaths of my father and Ser Lucien.” Harwin says as his voice hardens by the second. “And now my brother writes to me, begging me to come with you and our children so that he could do the same to us! For what reason! All so he can become Lord of Harrenhal himself? So he could be closer to that c*nt’s favor?!” Harwins whispers loudly so no one could hear him outside their bedroom. “Look at me!” Alyssa says sternly as she grabs Harwin’s face forcing his attention onto her. “You have every right to be as angry as you are now, but if what this knight says is true then that means we must be even more careful and above all else we must make sure our children are safe.” Alyssa tells him. “In order to do that, you must be careful every move you make will be watched now, you can not let them know you are on to them! I will not survive this if anything were to happen to you, my heart would not be able to bear it.” Alyssa begs him knowing his worst and best quality was his loyalty and if someone ever dared make dishonest remarks that could hurt those he cared about he was always quick to action. “I will always find my way back to you, no matter where I am I will always come back to you. Our children are my home.” Harwin says as he rests his hand on the swell of Alyssa’s stomach that has just begun to show signs of the new life that now lives there. “But you, you are my heart, and no matter what I must do I will always come back to you.” Harwin tells her before ending it with a kiss that they both pour all their emotions into it, as Harwin’s hands move towards her back where the laces that held her dress together. Just as he undo the laces a loud knock sounds threw the air breaking their moment of passion, making Harwin groan in disappointment. “You may enter.” Alyssa announces as she turns to lean against her husband with her back to his chest. “Forgive me Princess, but this came for you and Princess Rhaenyra from The King.” Alyssa’s lady in wait Rose says as walks towards Alyssa holding out the scroll that had just arrived. “Thank you, Rose, I will call for you and the others if it’s of great importance until then please relax.” Alyssa tells her handmaiden that she has known since she was a child. “Thank you, milady.” Rose says before leaving as Alyssa starts to read the letter that was sent to her.

“What is it?” Harwin questioned seeing the grim look on his beloved’s face. “My cousin Laena has passed away during childbirth, my father wants us all to head to Driftmark to show our support to my Uncle Daemon, Corlys and Princess Rhaenys.” Alyssa informs him.

“We join today at the Seat of the Sea to commit the Lady Laena of House Velaryon to the eternal waters, the dominion of the Merling King where He will guard her for all the days to come. As she sets to sea for her final voyage, the Lady Laena leaves two true born daughters on the shore. Though their mother will not return from her voyage, they will all remain bound together in blood. Salt courses through Velaryon blood. Ours runs thick. Ours runs true.” Vaemond says in High Valyrian as he stares at Rhaenyra’s two oldest sons insulting their heritage. Rhaenyra and Alyssa share a look of courcen while Harwin squeezes his wife’s hip in comfort as Harwin knew what Vaemon was hinting at since he could understand Valyrian now due to Alyssa teaching him. “Ours must never thin.” Vaemond continues though was soon interrupted by Daemon laughing at his words taking the attention away from Rhaenyra and her sons from the few who could speak High Valyrian. “My gentle niece. May the winds be as strong as your back, your seas as calm as your spirit, and your nets be as full as your heart. From the sea we came. To the sea we shall return.” Vaemond finishes as they push Lady Laena’s coffin in the open waters of the sea.

“Uncle.” Alyssa says as she walks towards Daemon with Harwin and their sons behind her. “Byka zaldrizes.” (little dragon.) Daemon says with a smirk as he sees his youngest niece before hugging her. “Nyke sorry be rinnykea Laena.” (I’m sorry about Lady Laena) Alyssa mumbles into her uncle’s shoulder. Alyssa has always had a great relationship with her Uncle though it wasn’t like the relationship Daemon has with Rhaenyra, it never stopped Daemon from being close to Alyssa. “Konir iksos daor jorraelagon naejot sagon sorry, nyke ryleast rual naejot ilimagho.” (there is no need to be sorry I’m at least allow to mourn.) Daemon tells her as he allow his eyes to find Rhaenyra who was standing across the room next to her oldest son Jace. “Ziry emagon missed ao, Uncle.” (She has missed you, Uncle.) Alyssa confirms as she watches her uncle softly smile at her words. “There are some I would like to iterndouce you too.” Alyssa beams as she brings her sons in front of her. “Though I believe you already know my husband Ser Harwin Strong.” Alyssa jokes as she kisses her husband’s cheek. “Ah yes, Ser Harwin, you were quite a loyal knight when I was once the Commander of the City’s Watch. I give you my regards on the news of your father’s death.” Daemon says truly sincerely. Harwin was always a loyal Knight and when Daemon was his commander he was truly impressed by the young knight, especially since Daemon only had the best of the best. “Thank you, my Prince.” Harwin says gratefully. “These are our sons.” Alyssa says proudly while settling on hand on Rhaegar’s shoulder as her other hand rests on Drogo’s head. “This is Rhaegar, Daeron, Drogo, and this is Lyonel.” Alyssa says as she points to each of her sons to show him which is who.

“Ah, Kessa ziry vestragon nyke emagon se chance naejot finally rhaenagon issa rovegrie nephews bona ao emagon written naejot issa be.” (Ah, yes it seems I finally get the chance to finally meet my great nephews that I’ve heard so much about in your letters.) Daemon says as he studies each of his nephew’s features. “The spitting image of your father you all are, except for you, you have your mother’s eyes.” Daemon says as he notices that Raegar shared the similar violet eyes that every Targaryen shared. After getting acquainted with one another Alyssa and Harwin encourage their boys to offer comfort to their cousins Baela and Rhaena, while also explaining that they must be quiet about showing their condousen about Ser Lucien while in public to their cousin Jace and Luke. Knowing how hard it is to lose a mother Alyssa smiled as she witnessed her children slightly holding the girls hand all while quietly showing them their support, all while ignoring the lingering gazes of the Queen and her sworn shield Ser Criston Cole. Though as she looks around for Rhaenyra she catches her good brother, Larys, staring at Alicent and her Husband.

“You have to eventually talk to your brother.” Alyssa says, keeping her voice hushed as she hugs Harwin from the side, adverting his attention from their sons. Something Harwin has picked up since leaving DragonStone is not being able to allow their sons to stray away from his line of sight for too long. “He’s no brother of mine.” Harwin scoffs as Alyssa hastily looks around to make sure Harwin hadn’t drawn any attention to them. “You musn’t talk like this, not here. You can’t let them know that you are on to them.” Alyssa warns him as she subtly looks at their sons. “We must watch ourselves now more than ever.” Alyssa says as she rest her head against his chest as Harwin sighs against her hair while caressing her hair before placing a kiss a upon her head, as Harwin knows she tells the truth.

After having their small moment together Harwin went to talk to his brother, praying to the gods to give his strength to not murder his brother in front of everyone. Finding a small bench open for the taking Alyssa sighs in relief as she sits down while resting a hand against her stomach. Though it was still to early to feel any movements from the child it still brought her comfort to her by doing this. “Drogo.” Alyssa says happily when she sees her middle child approach her. “What is wrong?” Alyssa questions when she notices the trouble expression on her son's face. “Must we have a new sibling?” Drogo ask her mother in a small voice. “Are you tired of your brothers?” Alyssa asked with a smile believing at first he was just having another qrual with his brothers again, until she saw he wasn’t amused by her question in fact he seemed even more trouble by it. “What is this about, Drogo?” Alyssa ask softly as she tilts Drogo chin upwards so Drogo could look at her properly and not at the ground. “You could die, mother.” Drogo mumbles as Alyssa face drops. Alyssa knew every time she gives birth she’s risking her life in the process. Even knowing Harwin would make sure that the Maester knew to always save her life before their child she knew in some cases for both the mother and the child there is no saving either of them. “Drogo, I will not die during childbirth.” Alyssa assured him. “You do not know this mother!” Drogo says harshly. “My sweet boy, you tell the truth I can’t not know if I will survive this labor, but I do know this your father will always do everything he can to make sure I will survive.” Alyssa says confidently as she can see some tension in his shoulders waver. “Come, let’s us see if we can find a sweet treat to eat before bed.” Alyssa says as she takes a hold of her sons hand before quietly leaving as they make their way towards the kitchen.

Harwin makes eye contact with his wife before she becomes out of sight for just a second, though he only needed that second to tell that something was wrong. “If you do not mind brother, it seems that my wife needs me.” Harwin excuses himself before Larys has a chance to reply as he heads straight for his other sons who were standing next to Rhaenyra’s children. “Boys, come it’s time for bed. The same goes for both of you.” Harwin says first addressing his sons before looking over to Jace and Luke. “But Father-“ Rhaegar starts to complain before quietly down when his father shot him with a look. “Come on.” Harwin says before taking baby Lyonel and settling him on his hip where Lyonel immediately barricading his head in his father’s neck while fisting Harwin’s shirt, showing just how tired he was. As Harwin leaves he spots his good sister staring at him causing him to nod his head slightly telling her he can handle it from here while she nods back silently thanking him before Rhaenyra left to join Daemon on the beach. Seeing as Rhaenyra’s sons couldn’t truly have their birth father in their lives publicly and seeing as Laenor wasn’t always present Harwin took it upon himself to be more active in their lives as their uncle. After escorting them to their rooms where he discovers Drogo already in bed asleep Harwin kisses his son's foreheads before heading towards his chambers with Lyonel still in his arms already asleep.

Walking in Harwin’s sees his wife sitting in front of the front of the fire place. After changing Lyonel into his night clothes and placing him into his cradle Harwin walks over to his wife and start to make work of undoing her hair style all while Alyssa stayed silent. “Are the boys asleep?” Alyssa ask. “Just put them down.” Harwin comfrims as he starts to undo her gowns lacing. “Let’s go to bed.” Harwin tells her before getting ready for bed. Alyssa lays her head down on Harwin’s chest while intertwining their legs together. “Drogo fears I might not survive childbirth.” Alyssa mumbles causing Harwin to tense at her words. “I try to reassure him, though I do not believe it did too much to relieve him.” Alyssa continues as looks up at him. “Do not worry I will talk to Drogo and the others.” Harwin promise her. “I want this one to be our last for awhile, as much as I love our children I would like to be with my husband and not to become with child so soon.” Alyssa confess to him. “If that is want you want then that is what we will do. It is you that carries our children so it you that will have the final say and I shall support you no matter what.” Harwin tells her not bother by the slightest as they have plenty of children to love already. “Sleep my love you’ve pushed yourself enough for the day.” Harwin tells her before they share a loving kiss as they fall asleep in each other’s arms.

“Princess! My Lord! You are summoned to the hall by the order of the King! It’s about the boys.” Alyssa’s handmaiden Rose announced as she burst into their chambers. Although stalled once they heard it was about their boys the couple quickly got up from their bed. “Rose stay with Lyonel, do not leave his side until we are back!” Alyssa commands as she sprints out of their room with Harwin right behind her. “Boys!” Alyssa yells as she runs into the hall looking for her sons gasping when she sees the state they are in. Rhaegar had a bloody nose, Daeron who had a busted lip, while Drogo had the worst as he had a busted lip and bloody nose as Rhaegar and Daeron had Drogo in between them with their arms in front of them.

“Drogo! Show me, show me.” Alyssa says as she drops on her knees to assist the damage while Harwin checks on their twins. “I'm sorry lady aunt, it’s my fault-“ Luke tries to speak up, causing Alyssa to look at him just to see that both he and Jace are also injured. “What happened?” Alyssa asks as she looks between both her boys and her nephews. “What happened is that my boy has been attacked by your sons!” Alicent yells at Alyssa. “I believe my wife was talking to our sons and nephews, you will show her respect and wait until we have our answers.” Harwin says threatly as he steps in front of Alyssa, at the same time Rhaenyra comes rushing in with Daemon waiting at the door.

“Jace, Luke!” Rhaenyra shouts as runs to her sons kneeling beside her sister. “They attacked me!” Aemond shouts. “He attacked Badla!” Jace shouts back. “He broke Drogo’s nose!” Rhaegar shouts over them. “Silence!” Viserys shouts. “What happened?” Alyssa asks her sons again. “He called Jace and Luke bastards. He was going to kill Luke if it wasn’t for Drogo.” Daeron tells them as the two sisters and Harwin shared a look before standing in front of their children like they were forming a shield to protect them. “Aemond I will have the truth of what happened. Now.” Viserys demands as he walks closer. “What else is there to hear? Your son has been maimed. Her son is responsible.” Alicent sneere as she glares at Alyssa. “It was our sons who were attacked; they were forced to defend themselves. It was your son who threw vile insults by loudly questioning the legitimacy of their cousin’s brith.” Harwin snaps. “What?” Viserys questions in disbelief. “He called Luke and Jace basters, he kept hitting Luke with a rock and choking him. He was going to kill Luke if it wasn't for Drogo.” Rhaegar informs his Grandsire. “And-“ Rhaegar starts but stops, causing his parents to look down at him. “And what? Speak now!” Viserys demands. “He called mother a whore.” Rhaegar says as the room went dead Silent.

“I wonder where a boy could learn such slanders? Perhaps Prince Aemond should be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders.” Harwin demands as he glares at Queen Alicent. “Over an insult? My son has lost an eye.” Alicent says. “It wasn’t just an insult. Your son was beating a boy half his size and was about to kill him. My son did what he had to do to protect his cousin!” Alyssa sneered back at her. “This interminable infighting must cease! All of you! We are family! Now make your apologies and show good will to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!” Viserys shouts. “If the king won’t seek justice the Queen will. Ser Criston bring me the eye of Drogo Strong.” The Queen demands. “He can choose which eye to keep a privilege he did not grant my son.” Alicent says as while Alyssa and Rhaenyra stand in front of the boys with Corlys moving to stand near the boys to help offer protection, as Harwin directs his attention to Ser Criston silently daring him to even take a step near his son. “You come near my son and I will kill you myself.” Alyssa growls as she takes a step forward.

“Alicent, this matter is finished. And let it be known anyone whose tongue dared to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons or should slander Princess Alyssa’s name should have it removed.” Viserys says while making direct eye contact with his wife as a warning. “Thank you father.” Alyssa and Rhaenyra say as she takes her sons to the side, while Alyssa simply turns around to face her sons as she kneels in front of them. Though Harwin doesn’t move as he keeps his eye on Ser Criston.

All the hatred Alicent has for the two sisters boils over the top as she stares at the dagger her husband carries. Having enough of the fact Rhaenyra could do no wrong in her father’s eyes as Alyssa is no better than Rhaenyra. Alicent has heard the rumors of Alyssa taking Ser Harwin into her bed before they were even betrothed to one another and yet she still was able to marry him. Alyssa could get away with anything just like Rhaenyra. Not able to take it any longer Alicent takes a hold of the dagger that King Viserys had and charges at Alyssa. “Alicent!” Viserys shouts ganning Alyssa's attention just in time to grab Alicent’s forearm and shoulder to Alicent from stabbing her. Seeing his wife in danger Harwin was about to interfere when Ser Harrold shouted at Ser Criston to stay put but when he saw Ser Cristion charge his ways towards his son Harwin quickly stepped into his path punching him with all his strength. Not even bothering holding back Ser Cristion was knocked out by the force as those around heard the sound of bone breaking.

“I can no longer recognize you.” Alicent says as she struggles to bring the blade closer to Alyssa against her hold. “Me? What have I done but protect my family against you, and now you’ve gone too far.” Alyssa tells her as the king's guard forms a circle ready to jump in at any moment to protect Princess Alyssa from the Queen. “I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law. While you and your sister flout all to do as you please. Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again. And now you take my son’s eye, and to even that, you feel entitled.” Alicent says as she glares at Alyssa. “Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness.” Alyssa says referring to the times where they used to be friends, to when Alyssa and Rhaenyra used to tell her everything. Only for Alicent to betray them and use what the sisters told her against them. “But now they see you as you are.” Alyssa says as she pushes Alicent away from just as Alicent brings down the blade slicing Alyssa’s forearm as they were both sent stumbling backwards.

Harwin who was standing behind her catches her as he takes her arm to bring it up allowing everyone to see the wound Alicent has caused Alyssa. Everyone stood in silence as they all watched a small puddle form from Alyssa’s blood. “Sister!” Rhaenyra breaks the silence as she moves to stand in front of Alyssa. “Mother.” Alyssa boys whimpers as they look at their injured mother. “Leave us NOW!” Viserys shouts towards the end as he glares at his wife. “Mother.” Rhaegar whimpers. “I’m okay, I’m going to be okay.” Alyssa tries to comfort her son as Harwin quickly gides Alyssa away from everyone. “Someone get the Maester!” Harwin grows.

@believeinthefireflies95

[jengajives]

Part four Caranthir is a dick

Part one

Part two

Part three

Up close, Daeron noticed that the Fëanorian dinner table was smaller than he’d imagined; granted, he had been imagining a cartoon rich-person table with about fifty seats at it, and it was big, to be sure, just not as big. There were maybe fifteen chairs pulled up, each of them carved of twisting metal and dark wood to match the elegance of the dining table. A stream of red silk ran down the middle. No food was set out yet, and now that Daeron thought about it, he couldn’t imagine any of these people making their own meal. He’d seen Maglor attempt to cook before, and it had not gone well; judging by the established patterns of behavior, the rest of his family would be much worse. The help would probably bring the food out once it was all done.

What a bizarre thought to pass through his mind.

Five of the chairs were occupied, all at the nearest half of the table. Two redheads sat talking back and forth, apparently blind to their surroundings and dressed in almost identical, expensive-looking sweatshirts; a frowning man with deepset eyes and hair of the deepest auburn, so dark it was almost indistinguishable from black, dressed in a silken suit that gleamed violet in the sunlight (Curufin took Celebrimbor from Daeron and took a seat at his side, looking smug); a tired red-haired woman who sat with her arms folded, a drawn scowl on her face; and, of course, the one Daeron assumed to be Fëanor himself, comfortably seated at the head of the table and weighing Daeron with his silver gaze. The family resemblance hit Daeron hard. Fëanor’s face was almost identical to Curufin’s, but he had Celegorm’s sharp jaw and Maglor’s eyes. He also saw the compact build on the red-haired twins, and there was something in the brow that Fëanor shared with the man in the suit. A bit of every son present there, except for Maedhros, who seemed to take after his mother. Unlike his boys- indeed, unlike almost any Noldo Daeron had ever met- Fëanor wore his black hair cropped short and close to the skull, without braiding of any kind. He didn’t look like a particularly nice man.

“Maglor,” he said, and a smile crossed his face that did nothing to put Daeron at ease. “Glad you could make it.”

“Hey, Dad.”

“Hello, dewdrop.” The woman smiled, too, but Daeron liked the look of hers. He got the impression he was going to like Nerdanel. Her skin was brushed with dark freckles, and her nose was crooked, but she had a warmth to her where Fëanor had only intensity and heat.

Maglor put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

“Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Daeron. Daeron, this is my mom and dad, Caranthir, Amrod, and Amras.”

One of the redheads rolled his eyes. “Last again.”

“I was hoping you all wouldn’t mind speaking Sindarin tonight?” Maglor seemed to be staring at Caranthir as he spoke. “Switch it up a little.”

Nerdanel looked like she was about to say something when Caranthir interrupted.

Just hearing his voice, Daeron got a bad feeling about him. Too calculated and much too smooth.

“Why should all of us have to speak a lower language just to cater to him?” He glanced at Daeron and there was a dismissive flash in his inky grey eyes.

Maglor took a step forward before Daeron even had time to process how offensive that was, and put an arm protectively in front of him, apparently on instinct.

“That’s pretty rude,” he said. His voice was calm but the glare he gave his brother certainly was not. “We all speak Sindarin. It’s not a big deal.”

“Can your friend not speak Quenya?” Caranthir glared right back. “I thought the Dark Elves had finally picked that up, but maybe that’s an overestimation on my part.”

“Lay off, Caranthir, seriously-“

“I just don’t see why he can’t use our language if we’re his hosts.”

“My Quenya is fine,” Daeron butted in, though of course he knew his accent was all off. He understood it a lot better than he actually spoke it; he just didn’t want to cause a fight over this. Maglor was too staunch a defender. Daeron didn’t want him to feud with a brother over this.

“Fine might be too generous a word,” Caranthir said. He looked mad. Daeron couldn’t fathom what had possibly set him off.

“That’s too far,” chided Nerdanel; her use of Sindarin didn’t go amiss. Her son grumbled and flicked out his phone instead, and Maglor’s fists somewhat relaxed.

“We’re happy to have you, Daeron.” Fëanor had a very good voice, and his Sindarin was flawless. Daeron suddenly began to understand this man’s popularity; he might not look friendly, but he sounded like an ally. Simple as that. “We don’t get Grey Elves very often. And since your Quenya needs improvement, we are all happy to share your language. It’s no difficulty, is it, boys?”

No one answered him. The twins were whispering to each other, checked out, Curufin had a stupid, knowing grin on his face, and Caranthir was still pouting.

“Quenya needs improvement.” He should be grateful I even bothered learning this much. Stupid language.

“Thank you,” Maglor said shortly, glaring at his brothers.

He pulled out a chair and motioned for Daeron to take it, which he did, rather hesitantly. Caranthir was still staring at him, and it felt as if Fëanor was trying to pick him apart with his eyes. He shifted uncomfortably as Maglor sat down beside him.

“Food is almost ready- where’s Nelyo?” Fëanor looked at Maglor like he thought he was hiding Mae in his pocket somewhere. Mags only shrugged.

“Upstairs, I think.”

“Got another mysterious phone call, did he?” Curufin smiled smugly. “Any clue who his secret lover is yet, Mags?”

“I didn’t realize I was supposing to be investigating.”

“Course you are. You’re his favorite.”

“Mae is entitled to his privacy.”

“Sure, sure. You think it’s one of the Valar again?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Fëanor spoke firmly, putting an end to any speculation. “Nelyo knows better than to tangle with that lot.”

“One of them would be better than a Sindar,” Caranthir said. It was quiet, but not quiet enough; he’d meant for Daeron to hear it.

Maglor had really neglected to mention how much of a dick this one was.

“Did the Sindar do something to you?” Daeron asked as politely as he could manage, ignoring the way Maglor gripped his thigh in a clear signal not to engage. “If we did, I’m sorry, but there’s no need to generalize like that.”

Caranthir met his gaze, cool but undeniably angry. There was a slightly purple tint to his storm-colored eyes.

“Don’t like Dark Elves,” he said in a particularly chilling voice. “Bad for business.”

“That’s good, because I’m not a Dark Elf.”

If this smug little bastard wanted a fight, Daeron would give it to him.

“Babe…” Maglor said, tugging at his arm.

Caranthir looked like he was about to stand up and start laying into him, so Daeron braced to get to his feet, but the boiling tensions were somewhat lessened when Maedhros came into the dining room. Initially, it looked like he was out of breath from taking the stairs too fast, but his face was also a bit flushed, and a strand of hair that had been up a few minutes ago was loose and clung to a line of sweat on his forehead.

“Sorry. Am I the last one here? Didn’t mean to keep anyone waiting.”

“Celegorm is still outside,” Maglor offered. “Daeron and I can go get him.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m already up.” Mae flashed his tired smile and vanished again; Maglor looked very worried about it. He knew Daeron was close to chewing his brother out at the dinner table during his very first family visit, and that wouldn’t exactly be a good look, but before he could think of another excuse to relieve tensions, his mother did it for him.

“Caranthir, stop glaring and leave our guest alone. We’ve agreed to leave politics away from the dinner table, yes?”

“Like we ever do that,” he grumbled.

“Shape up. You’re a grown man and more than capable of putting on a courteous front for a few hours.” Nerdanel folded her arms, and Daeron was stricken by how muscular she was. The biceps strained against her sleeves- it was a miracle she even fit them in at all.

Caranthir looked like a scolded puppy, but still he whined, “But I-“

“No. You owe Daeron an apology.”

A long silence. Caranthir looked like he’d rather kill Daeron then apologize to him, but his mother kept him locked in a death stare, so eventually he caved in and grumbled, “Sorry.” It was not very convincing.

“It’s fine,” said Daeron in a clipped voice. It wasn’t fine, but he would rather Maglor’s family not hate him, so he could pretend. It seemed to put Mags more at ease, at the very least.

The skittering off claws on hardwood indicated the arrival of Huan and his master, and as Maedhros and Celegorm took seats on either side of their mother, Fëanor said something about eating, and the smell of something fragrant with herbs drifted in along with the small herd of cooks and servers. It smelled a bit too much like poultry for Daeron’s tastes. He got the feeling the Fëanorians would not approve of his not eating meat.

This whole thing was starting to feel like a really bad idea.

[jengajives]

the much anticipated part three in which dinner doesnt actually happen yet

part one

part two

Just inside the metal door, there was a plaque that read “TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES OR I WILL KILL YOU” in elegant, cursive lettering, and Daeron spent a long time just staring at it trying to decide whether he found the joke funny or not. At the moment, being murdered here was a genuine worry of his. The thought of Fëanor bursting into the entry hall wielding a machine gun and unloading just because Daeron had forgotten to remove his sandals felt entirely plausible. Daeron was careful to leave the shoes neatly in the row near the others. After taking a moment to examine the gold-embroidered sneakers and a pair of dress shoes polished to perfection he finally managed to speak again. “Is everyone in your family obscenely wealthy?” Maglor glanced up. He’d taken a seat on a very uncomfortable-looking metal bench to unlace his boots. “I guess so, yeah. Curufin and Caranthir have the most because they’re actually talented, but the rest of us are just kind of leeches on Dad’s fortune. He’s got more than enough.” “Yeah.” Daeron glanced at the ceiling some thirty feet above his head. “I noticed that.” “Once I finish recording, though, I should be able to hop off the charity line.” Maglor tossed his boots carelessly into the pile. “I’m gonna make it big.” “I know you are, honey.” If he ever actually finished recording. Maglor was such a perfectionist; he’d been working on his album for years. Abruptly, from somewhere deeper in the belly of this beast, came the sounds of shouting. Daeron turned to see if he could place it. The entry hall was tucked just alongside a massive room that definitely could have fit Daeron’s entire apartment four or five times over. Slick laminate floors reflected the sunset that came in through floor-to-ceiling windows over looking the valley and the distant gleam of ocean. The furniture was of simplistic design but unmistakably expensive, and in the center of the room a massive fireplace was alight with a pale red flame. The far corner featured what seemed to be an indoor waterfall, cascading alongside an opening which Daeron assumed led down to other rooms. There was a glass and steel staircase suspended off the side of one of the walls, curling up to the second floor landing impossibly far above. Directly to his right, the floor stepped down into what seemed to be a lounge of some sort. Behind that, at the far end of the room on the same slightly lower level, there was a massive dining table set with at least twenty chairs. A couple of them were filled, though their occupants were too far away for him to make out. From this table came another shout. It was so echoey in the massive room that Daeron had absolutely no idea whether there were any words in it at all. “Oh, wonderful.” Maglor sighed as he shucked his jacket and tossed it onto the little bench. “They’re fighting already.” “Who’s fighting?” “Who do you think?” The new voice was drily amused and, thankfully, familiar as it approached from the side. Maedhros emerged from the lounge wearing a tired smile, with a baby standing on top of his feet. The little one clung to his left hand and the stump where his right had once been so it wouldn’t fall as he walked it forward with short, certain steps, and when he got close he carefully lowered the baby to the ground so it could start crawling around and babbling, as babies are prone to do. Daeron immediately gave a coo and stooped to pick up the kid. “Look at this little cutie!” “He’s Curufin’s” Maedhros said. He stuck his hand into his pocket now that he wasn’t using it anymore, and gave Daeron a warm smile. “It’s good to see you again. I’m glad Mags convinced you to come.” “He was the one that did the convincing, actually.” Maglor looked at the baby in mild disgust. “They put you on Celebrimbor duty?” “No, I volunteered. Didn’t want to listen to them scream about whatever economics thing they’re upset about.” “Good choice,” Daeron said as he wiggled a finger in front of the baby’s face. Celebrimbor had a ridiculously chubby face and a big smile that made his eyes squish down to nothing but the narrowest slits of silver. His dark hair was surprising thick for one so young. “He’s adorable.” “He’s good company.” Maedhros smiled again. Daeron was beginning to think the expression was a trademark to him- a tired smile that looked convincing, but with nothing at all behind it. There had always been something off about the eldest Fëanorian. Personally, Daeron thought it had something to do with the hand and the scars, but it was rude to ask and Maglor had never offered any meaningful insight on the matter, so he was left to speculate. “How long have they been going off?” Maglor glanced in the direction of the dining table and Maedhros only chuckled. “Not too long. Celegorm started it and then bailed, as per usual. Mom should concede here soon and it’ll probably be safe to go in.” “Big happy family,” Daeron observed absently, because he was too occupied playing with the kid to remember not to be rude. Luckily, Maedhros just laughed softly, which probably meant he hadn’t said anything too offensive. “You have no idea.” Daeron tickled Celebrimbor under the chin. He held the baby towards Maglor. “When can we get one of these?” Maglor gave a strained smile. “Must we?” “You don’t want a baby? He’s so cute!” “Sure, sure. You know I love kids. Nothing I love more than kids.” Maedhros chuckled at the two of them, but before he could say anything, something buzzed in his front pocket. Hastily he pulled it out and glanced at the screen, and his face went somewhat pale. “Sorry. I have to take this.” He hurried from the room and bounded up the stairs two at a time in what appeared to be desperation. Daeron watched him go. “Wow. What is that about?” “No clue.” Maglor shrugged. “He’s a weird guy. You know, not as weird as the others, but weird.” “Sure.” Didn’t really satisfy Daeron, but it would be a little much to ask more about it, so he just didn’t. Maybe he could pry after dinner, depending on if they had wine or not. He looked back at little Celebrimbor and was about to follow Maglor into the lounge when they were interrupted by another yell. The voice was clearer this time, closer, and when Daeron turned he saw a dark-haired man standing just outside the dining area, looking at them. He was speaking Quenya, which was irritating, but Daeron knew enough to understand him. “I thought I heard you out here, Mags! Is this your boyfriend? Come in here right now!” He had a playful tone, but it still seemed incredibly threatening. Maglor just smiled and motioned for Daeron to follow him. “Hey, Curufin.” As Daeron approached, the new Fëanorian gave him a shrewd, calculating type of look. He was wearing a gold chain and a flashy watch on each wrist, and his outfit was so disturbingly ugly it had to be designer. There was some sort of brand logo printed over and over beneath an obscure animal print on the shirt, but Daeron had no idea what it was. His hair was long and done up in loose, stylish locks twisted with gold. He was definitely looking at Daeron like he was a cut of meat. “Oh, dear.” Curufin’s lip curled. “Isn’t this interesting? Good to meet you, pal. It’s Curufin.” He held out a hand, and Daeron was disturbed by the amount of rings on each individual finger. Hesitantly, he accepted the handshake and made a reply in clunky Quenya. “Hello. My name is Daeron.” As he spoke, he shot a glare at Maglor. “They’ll speak Sindarin,” my ass. “You one of Thingol’s?” “Curufin,” Maglor said warningly. His brother only chuckled and motioned to the table. “Welcome to you both,” he said, with just a bit of malice in his voice. Daeron took a deep breath and turned to face the others.