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kinda want to move this blog 🙃

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kinda want to move this blog 🙃

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kinda want to move this blog 🙃

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❛❛ mother … naming the dragon egg is not of my concern any longer. ❜❜ the seat beneath her feels unholy (just as the practice imposed upon aemma is), and rhaenyra lowers her figure to leash hands to aemma, the longing for a mother's warm touch finally fulfilled. it is mature, the way she handles herself, and how she edges toward aemma without a care for the servants who hustle around the pair. is this truly how they serve the realm? she fears another baby just might pause aemma from ever ‘serving’ the realm ever again. alas, her mind cannot tread these waters — not aemma ... not in her soft, kind might. ❛❛ i care for you. perhaps, a servant could run you a warm bath? [her voice raised. at this, alexandra — a measly handmaiden if there was one — nods, and shuffles toward the tub, tracing thin fingers beneath the tepid water. though not everyone in king’s landing is aware: dragons prefer heat.] mustn’t be comfortable, spending all day and night on your back. if i could free you from this chamber, i would. ❜❜

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“ rhaenyra, my dear heart. ” she calls to her kin, she smiles and her near constant melancholic disposition that festers from this, and previous, strenuous pregnancy. at the sight of her it all but dissipates— like a blood letting. sweet lavender sage dressed 'pon décolletage, the scent subtle as the queen moves to take her daughter's hand in hers; fondly, she says, “ the maesters tell me you wish to choose the dragon-egg for the babe. ” mere thought of the dragon mouth is daunting, still, even after years of wyverns in fearsome flight! or fetching her daughter from the assured safe clutches of her dragon-kin.

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anyways with that awful anon i will be disabling the feature 🫶🏻 i HOPE none of my followers / mutuals sent that shit …. if anyone has a differing opinion to mine and would like to share it politely, i ask that you tell me about it so we can converse in an adult manner! when it comes to how i view rhaenyra’s sexuality, and who i ultimately find her compatible with, — she’s a lesbian, closeted. she is aware of those feelings, she has known/been aware since she was around her mid-late teens. i believe it is objective that rhaenyra is inherently sapphic in some sense or the other, however you’d like to name it. i obviously respect what other nyra writers see her as. and to be clear, ‘shipping’ is kind of futile in this fandom (for certain characters) as we know how their story ends. regarding nyra and ali: i am simply interested in the tragedy of their relationship and the trajectory it faced throughout the show and the wikis i’ve read. i think that is obvious if you’ve been following me for a week or for a month. however, alicent is nyra’s most compatible pairing to me. all respect to other ships (minus the godforsaken incest???), but i just wanted to make my standpoint clear.

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sorry anon (sike!) but tbh alicent's behavior makes so much more sense if you consider she's a closeted lesbian!

omg srry anon can sapphics exist or is that too much of a take!!!

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"queen alicent has not forgotten the love you once had for each other"

otto was manipulating rhaenyra.

you are an idiot for thinking otherwise.

rhaenicent is fake as fuck.

rhaenyra is naive and stupid for considering his offer.

ok!

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❛❛ i quite enjoy this. ❜❜ she crouches as slightly as she can without ripping the hemline of her dress. the way he moves with such an easiness about him, and can then suddenly act as if nothing had happened, is a form of fascination to the princess. still, she follows him, king’s landing’s streets unfamiliar to her. ❛❛ is snooping around a regular activity for you, @atleur? ❜❜

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❛❛ na—nahhve. ❜❜ eye catches @neteyamor, anxiety everpresent, as she utters words which sound like nonsense to anyone else. how the people here are so beautifully dangerous is a mystery to her. she feels the long grass on her legs as she mispronounces the relatively simple word — it wasn’t this difficult learning valyrian, she thinks. ❛❛ naa’eee. ❜❜

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❛❛ it is a great land, the one you speak of. ❜❜ it’s been a long time since king's landing has been given a truly naked examining by the princess — perched upon a high balcony. alas, the inquisitorial tinge befalling the other’s tone demands an answer, and rhaenyra does not back away from such things, as much as she knows she should. ❛❛ here, i have found that nothing is simply great. in it’s stature, great. but it is small. and i hate it. what is so great, about a land of cowards and cunts? ❜❜ @misswin.

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❛❛ of course it is. father would miss me dearly. but who else? alicent, do you not see? ser harrold would not find us. [the slightest of chuckles lacing her previous words,] and i have syrax. do you not believe she could save us from his white cloak's clutches? ❜❜ a relief not exactly candor: her head is tilted to the side, in attempt to continue the conversation with lack of her dismay. please listen. please, come with me. internal pleading, a pleading which would surely turn the brunette from her, she thinks. maybe she could convince her, but what would it do? alicent was right: harrold would probably find them, or he would not (be instructed to) stop searching until he did. [this childish yearning is not all i am. this childish yearning is all i am.] ❛❛ where it be essos or not. what good are we here? [her hands now reach for alicent's arms, so gentle and tender with their grip.] tell me, tell me, because i would make use of this in a heartbeat. ❜❜

‘‘    is it what you want?    ’’        her voice lowers again, a feat alicent herself did not think possible, but the fear of being overheard is a powerful one indeed. her words are for the princess and the princess alone, as they so often are; her fingers relaxing and moving to entwine themselves in the other’s, as they so often do. there is a certain kind of disquiet that comes with that as well, but it is one she quells for the moment, simply relieved to find the thread of pressure in the pit of her stomach slowly unknotting itself. ‘‘    where would we go? what would we do? do you not think ser harrold himself would be sent to track you down?    ’’        when in doubt, she finds that an overdose of reality is the best remedy, pragmatism and practicality battling it out with dreams and desires.

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she is no stranger to a quarrel. for, his stance, kind albeit cautious, is wearing on her vision, his body almost miniscule to the stone wall behind him. a piece of her halts, allowing a minute to smile so she doesn't seem confrontational: &. whilst she stands before a child, he is wiser beyond his brother, so among his deciphering gaze, she feels almost unsettled. the snake stares with eyes of a shade of malintent, a terrible gnawing ache in her stomach, traveling through her guts to her head, a pounding suddenly befalling eyes of wisteria.

❛❛ that is all well and good, but it is you i seek. come, ❜❜ figure tilts to the side, as if to signal: COME, LET US DISCUSS, ALLOW ME TO CONVERSE, TO BETWIXT YOUR VISION FROM YOUR INTENT. ❛❛ tell me, i have heard unsetting canard, which lie in the hands of your brother, moreover, my sons. ❜❜

if her sons have been acting like such, she is to punish them to her befits. at least, she clings to the idea that she will not be forced to, a feeling of disappointment tinged with aggravation is not unfamiliar to the woman, the heir, the queen. ❛❛ tell me, is it my sons who give you grief? mockery, perhaps, for not securing a dragon beside their training? my boys -- i fear i have not taught them right from wrong, from their youth onwards. ❜❜

𝘏𝘌 𝘎𝘈𝘝𝘌 𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘈 𝘎𝘓𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘌 , 𝘏𝘖𝘓𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘛 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘈 𝘉𝘈𝘙𝘌𝘓𝘠 𝘙𝘌𝘚𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘐𝘕𝘌𝘋 𝘐𝘕𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘚𝘐𝘛𝘠 that spoke more of the tensions , the disdain held within their family than words could never wholly express . Yet , still there was that sure smirk that half curled his lips , only altered by the clenching of his jaw . A fraction of an difference that , if nothing else , served to sharpen his features ; TO ALLOW HIS EXPRESSION TO MIRROR THE EDGE OF A SWORD . His sword , the very one he tightened his grip on as he continued to face her . His eldest sister , the enemy he was forbidden to voice as such .

❝ 𝑴𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒕𝒇𝒖𝒍 . 𝐀𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 . ❞ He answered with a hum , before reluctantly sheathing his sword . Now was not the time for bloodshed or further discourse . Not by his hand , not this time . HE COULD NOT CONTINUE TO PROTECT THEIR FAMILY BY BRINGING A STORM TO THEIR HOME . Even if there was little he craved more than to give into the fantasy of ending this feud , at last , in one final swift strike . ❝ 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 . ❞ Those words lacked the any true joy or intimacy , woven together only by poorly hidden obligation . 

He removed his gaze from her face for a moment’s time , flicking over towards the palace behind her . Then , it returned for a brief time , the hint of a smile falling into something colder , truer . ❝ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 , 𝐈 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞 ? 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 , 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍 . ❞

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delighting in the girl's laughter, rhaenyra lets a portion of her mouth slant as to grin hesitantly, eyeing the floor like she had been harshly disciplined, when that was not the case: alicent brings her back to the ground where sense and familiarity lied. (not on dragonback — certainly not.) the idea seemed relentless and adolescent, in truth, but she indirectly scolds alicent for rebuking the idea. rhaenyra just wants her approval. ❛❛ well, wouldn't you? surely you cannot tell me a life without the worry of succession would not be more peaceful than this. ❜❜ stepping forward, to soothe her clear discomfort, hands hold onto the other's. she needs alicent, to be reliant on her. she had no one else. ❛❛ my father will replace me as heir the minute my mother has a boy. it is what the realm wants. men would sooner put the realm to the torch than see a woman ascend the iron throne. is that not real? the truth? ❜❜

‘‘    rhaenyra!    ’’        even her laughter belies a nervous nature, hands gripping each other tightly in her lap, the pressure pinching at the fresh wounds by her nails. auburn curls are sent a-bouncing as she snaps her head around, searching for the looming figure of her father in the shadows, fearful that he may overhear, may learn of the silly little daydreams she and the princess discuss. ‘‘    you mustn’t be so fanciful. besides, what would you do? leave behind your kingdom, your claim, your future?    ’’

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rhaenyra suggesting that criston could be, in his words, her whore, and not understanding the disrespect in what that implies is only representative of how she has only ever seen coupling or marriage as a means of societal engagement or people gaining height in the ranks. she doesn't understand that it's objectification and she doesn't understand that ever. because all her life, she has only ever been (seen as) an object. criston having true feelings for her is such a strange and foreign concept because she has never seen true feelings even in her own home. sure, aemma and viserys were in "love", but their interactions surely did not reflect that. considering viserys instructed her death? Surely Not. so whilst criston is justified in his anger, he also needs to take into account that she has no idea what she's doing and what they're doing, outside of having sex and being fond of one another.

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❛❛  maybe.  ❜❜  extending a welcoming smile, the princess looks back to ishtar with a curiosity she refrains from expressing when around her subjects. (never keeping a friend too long, whilst being shrouded with allies almost constantly. when will she evolve from this station?) a turn of gaze, almost robotically, she traces the city, looking to each of the buildings she was once familiar to. and now: they are but a blur, though that is what happens when dragonback becomes a main source of comfort for the princess.  ❛❛  and it depends: would you like to?  ❜❜ 

“is that an invitation, your grace?” the witch’s smile remains unperturbed as she gazes at the city below. “i have never been too fond of cities, but i suppose i cannot ignore this one’s beauty.” & as it is said, eyes raise from the landscape to land on rhaenyra.

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❛❛    princess rhaenyra of dragonstone   —   and who might you be?   ❜❜    [@faentine]

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❛❛    ah    —    aemond.    how has training been going?   ❜❜      [@sapyrrhic]