#( blackhaven )

[horizon-verizon]

Is Criston Cole Dornish on the show?

This is from the 2nd episode of the first season:

Harrold: Ser Criston Cole. Son of the steward of the Lord of Blackhaven.

Rhaenyra: Be welcome, Ser Criston. You saw combat in the Stormlands.

Criston: Dornish marches, Princess. I fought for a year as a foot solider against the Dornish incursions. Ser Arlan Dondarrion knighted me after we razed two of the watchtowers along the Boneway.

We learn that, like his book counterpart, he is the son of a steward.

In the book, that steward was the steward for the house of Dondarrions, which is actually a Stormlander house near the Dornish Marches. Their castle, Blackhaven, is in the Marches. The Wiki of Ice and Fire says this of what the Dornish Marches is:

an area of southern Westeros in the border region north of Dorne. The marches are predominantly in the southwestern stormlands and extend east to the Sea of Dorne, although much of the western marches are within the Reach. People from the region are known as marchers, and they are ruled by marcher lords

And this of Blackhaven's location:

in the southwestern stormlands. Part of the Dornish Marches, it is located in the northern Red Mountains near the Dornish border, north of the Wyl and south of the Cockleswhent.

These are maps of the Dornish Marches vs Dorne vs Stormlander vs the Reach:

So, the Dondarrions Criston & Criston's father are all Stormlanders, not Dornish in the show as they were in the original lore.

EDITED/SEMI-SELF CORRECTION:

Another anon has pointed out that the first episode has Alicent calls Criston Dornish and many scripts of the same episode has Alicent SMH this while one has its narrator call Criston a "Dornish knight", which means that this one where the narrator says is possibly a past draft of the script. Even so in the show, we are meant to understand that he is supposed to be Dornish and apparently Blackhaven is --where he is supposed to come from-- and the entirety of the Dornish Marches is in Dorne in the new, "separate" HotD universe.🙄

This is the Narrator portion of the episode 1 script from this site:

During old king Jaehaerys Targaryen’s reign, tragedies took his sons’ lives, leaving the succession undecided. A Great Council convenes to choose Westeros’ future ruler. Jaehaerys’ grandchildren, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen and Prince Viserys Targaryen (Rhaenys’ younger cousin) are the candidates. Westerosi law gives a male heir precedence over a female, regardless their birth order and Viserys is chosen. Nine years into King Visery I’s reign, the Triarchy, an alliance formed by the free cities of Essos, threatens the kingdom, wanting to seize the Stepstones region. Viserys must also restrain his brother Daemon’s brutality as the City Watch commander in King’s Landing. Viserys, certain that pregnant Queen Aemma will bear him a son, holds a tournament to celebrate the impending birth. During the event, Dornish knight, Ser Criston Cole defeats Daemon in a competition while Queen Aemma and her son die in childbirth. The Hand of the King, Ser Otto Hightower, proposes that Viserys’ only living child, the young princess Rhaenyra, be named heir to the Iron Throne. After a dispute with Daemon, Viserys proclaims Rhaenyra as the next ruler.

It's possible that the writers tried to show through Alicent's pointing Criston out that his looks lend to "outsider" and thus a sort of racial or ethnic pressure in his characterization. Show!Alicent could, in universe, just mistake him for Dornish because he looks like their idea of Dornish. However nothing follows up here to build from that element into his actions and how people treat him later on, and if it's not on screen nor even something the characters themselves hint, use, etc, it doesn't in the story.

[kabannoneko]

Game Thoughts: Blackhaven by Historiated Games

Honestly, we only got this one because we were looking for free games at the time, and this caught our attention. It took a while for us to actually play this game simply because we didn’t have the hardware for it. Or at least, we felt we didn’t.

I am glad that we were able to play it eventually. I would say that this is a very nice game. - B

What’s It All About?

You play as Kendra Turner, a black college intern in Blackhaven Hall, which commemorates a man who, in the world of the game, was a forgotten founding father of the United States. She was assigned to man the fort during Flag Day, and do certain tasks that needed to be done for the improvement of the place. While she goes through the said tasks, she finds out that the establishment has been hiding a certain secret…

World/Character/Story Development

The story happens in an alternate US, where there’s an apparently forgotten Founding Father named Thomas Harwood. And this is important to note, since American history (particularly the American Revolution) provides much of the context regarding the main conflict of the story.

I noted earlier that the main character is black, and as “racist” as it may sound, it is also an important part of the story/conflict. As you may well know, slavery was a key point of contention between the North and the South, and who were the slaves? The black people.

At first, Kendra goes through the motions, believing that she was fortunate to get this internship. She was planning to use it as a stepping stone for getting to Greece, in the form of a recommendation. I believe she planned to go through further studies or a job related to her field. I’m not exactly sure.

But that starts to matter less as she goes through the tasks that were assigned to her, and finds out about the dark past and secret that the institution has been hiding from people. And what they’ve been hiding is the fact that there’s a certain black woman and her family who were actually connected to the Harwoods by blood and were supposed to also get part of the money from the company the Harwoods now own.

All because black people were “just slaves” and weren’t even treated as people. If you read some of the documents, you’ll see some of the family members describe black people as something close to animals. It’s disgusting, but we’re sure people have thought that before, and still think it now.

That, and the fact that she was apparently only hired as an intern for “diversity points”, drives Kendra to ultimately give up her dream of getting to Greece (at least for the present time) and help this other black family get what is rightfully theirs as people.

I like how the game shows how the past affects the present, and how the future can be changed for the better based on what we learn of the past. I also like how they show that technology can make it even more possible for people to find out the truth (for example, recent archaeological discoveries, DNA tests, Facebook).

Graphics

The graphics remind us of those programs where you make 3D models for architecture, and I think it fits, considering architecture plays a large part in Blackhaven Hall. Now, you might say that I consider it “low quality”, but that’s not the case, especially if you remember that it IS a free game. I would consider decent 3D graphics a plus for a free and short game.

What surprises me/us is the fact that most of the text is readable. But then again, reading is a huge chunk of the gameplay, and it wouldn’t have so much impact if people didn’t read that much. And it’s part of the reason why I like this game in particular.

Speaking of text, there’s also the option of including subtitles, which is nice for those who have auditory processing issues.

However, there are some typos, but that’s alright. At least it doesn’t distract much from the story.

Audio

Audio is a little unusual, in the sense that there’s barely any background music. Most of the time, you will hear ambient sounds, like air conditioning, footsteps, and the leaves rustling in the wind. I do like that they put some attention to it, like how the sound of footsteps changes when you transition between glass and stone.

There’s also some dialogue, but most of it is spoken thoughts by Kendra, as well as the guide for the audio tour of the mansion. The only exception would be actual conversations between Kendra and her mom, as well as Kendra and a surviving member of the family she wanted to help.

It’s not to say that there’s NO background music, as there’s some that plays when important events happen. And I think that’s reasonable. After all, this is not one of those TV shows, where you have loud background music all the time.

Gameplay

Controls are pretty much what you would expect (WASD for movement, right-click for selecting things/actions), although there are some keys used that somewhat throw me off, like the use of R for exiting a zoom-in. Thankfully, there’s always a guide at the top left corner of the screen.

And speaking of guides, I find it nice that the experience is guided enough that you know where to go and what to do, and you’re not left having to backtrack too much for clues/hints. There’s also some leeway for exploration, especially with the gallery and audio tour parts.

During the document scanning part, I’ve had a small fear that I would forget something, but fortunately, Kendra comments if, say, you need to complete the reading before scanning. I haven’t tested whether she will comment something if you forget to scan and try to go to the next page, though.

I would recommend that you play it in full screen, though, since the mouse controls kind of have a hard time on windowed mode.

Also, don’t bother scrolling during the email portions using the mouse. You’re better off using W and S for it.

Also, during the document scanning, even if it doesn’t say so, you can zoom in on text with F.

Overall

If you want something that’s free, fairly short, and has a very good story, I would recommend this game. Just be warned that there’s a lot of discussion on racism, so if you’re not into that, well, you’re warned. Also, this needs a bit of brainwork, so make sure you pay full attention while you play.

The devs estimate it at around two hours of play, but it will extend to around 3 or 4 if you’re reading intently, depending on your speed.

Pros

It’s a free game

Great story and character development

A good ending, at least. Not what the main character expected, but definitely better.

Cons

Controls are a little different from the usual

A few typos in the text, but nothing too distracting

There’s almost no background music, save for a few important moments

You may get it on Steam. Also, there's an upcoming sequel for it called Cassius. If we could afford it, I think we'll get it as well.

[aeriondripflame]

coming up with canon ocs/headcanons regarding criston cole’s parents to absorb into my belief system, but do we think that criston’s mother or his father was dornish (or both)?

[tronodiferro]

House Dondarrion of Blackhaven

GameOfThronesFanatic-Knjiga

[daeron-dondarrion]

Location: Dorne, Sunspear Open starter (1/3)

The Lord of Blackhaven had heard of the arrangements to travel to Stonehelm for the wedding of the Hand of the Queen and Lady Swann. Such news sparked a sense of relief, really. Such an event was a fine excuse to set foot on his homeland again, to breathe in the crisp air and smell the soil after rain of the Stormlands after the time spent in a foreign realm. Standing in the courtyard of the lodgings House Uller granted them, Daeron had begun mobilizing the retinue of House Dondarrion to ready themselves to leave Dorne.

Daeron would be seeing his lord father soon, no doubt. Reuniting with him was always a peculiar experience. Lord Emmon looked upon his only living son as if it was both the first and last time he’d see him, though inevitably his usual gruff manner found his father and it felt like sharing space with a stone statue. “Laster arte, aita...” he muttered under his breath, before he turned to one of his men. “Let us have everything packed, then. We ought to be ready to depart as soon as we’re given leave,” he ordered, his words accompanied by a sturdy pat on the man’s shoulder.

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

The Captain’s Old Love by Mary Lancaster

One Night in Blackhaven #1

Introduction to a new series that has the potential for nine books or more just based on the siblings of one family. This was an easy, quick, somewhat predictable, feel-good, second chance romance that provides a happily ever after for the main characters.

What I liked:

* Antonia: widow, lady’s companion, loving mother to six-year-old Edward, never stopped loving Julius though she was upset he jilted her

* Julius: retired naval captain, war hero, scarred, loving brother, intelligent, knows the area, has brought his family together and is settling in, never stopped loving Antonia but hurt and wonders why Antonia jilted him

* Edward: young, precocious, bright, fun, active, likes Julius

* Julius’s siblings: there are eight of them that I won’t name but I have a feeling they will each have a book of their own

* Lord Linfield and his sister Miss Talbot:  he is a diplomat that knew Julius’s father and she travels with him

* The plot, pacing, setting, and writing

* That it was an easy read without any major insurmountable obstacles

What I didn’t like: * Who and what I was meant not to like

* Thinking about what Antonia put up with from her parents, husband, brother-in-law and Dunnet

Did I like this book? It was okay

Would I read more in the series? Maybe

Thank you to NetGalley and Dragonblade for the ARC – This is my honest review.

3-4 Stars

BLURB 

His dashing days are behind him – until an old flame dances back into his life. A hero of Trafalgar and many battle since, Captain Julius Vale, has retired from the Royal Navy and moved himself and all his siblings back to the family home near Blackhaven. Here, wounded and disillusioned, he seeks peace for himself, and happiness for his troubled brothers and sisters. He does not expect to encounter the woman who broke his heart ten years ago, and he certainly does not mean to make the mistake of falling for her again. Antonia, now an impoverished widow and mother, is the paid companion of eccentric spinster, Miss Talbot, who is taking a course of the Blackhaven waters. Meeting Julius again is a shock. So is the fact that he clearly blames her for their parting when it was he who sailed away without a word of goodbye. And yet after only one dance, she begins to feel alive … Amidst the tangle of anger, hurt and reigniting passion, they gradually realize the truth. But it seems that the same forces that parted them ten years ago are determined to do so again. Unless they are strong enough this time to trust in each other.

[melaniem54]

Review: Pain In The Ice (Blackhaven Manor #8) by Arden Steele

Rating: 4.75🌈 This book is why I love this series so. Steele has written a strong story about the importance of the depths of friendships, loyalty, compassion for each other under the most extreme conditions, as well as how finding your own soulmate gives you comfort and support when you need it most. Thade Maddock is leaving Blackhaven Manor for a cruise to Hawaii. However, it’s not a joyful…

[bucknastysbabe]

Hi I got an ask about subby Criston and I’m here to fill it but I accidentally deleted the ask itself. So I hope you see this😭😭I kinda went cuckoo bonkers word to Wyn but anyways! Pookie bear cries and nuts like 40 times🧸🧸

Knock ‘em out - C.Cole

Rating: Explicit

WC: 3k

Tags: Boxer!Criston, Manager!Reader, Criss priss prob needed to be in an institution but now gets paid for beating ass, a little bit of manipulation from reader, marathon sex, overstimulation, sub space, soft domme, 🚨CRISTON BIG ASS PRAISE KINK🚨, he’s puppy your honor, Dom/sub, sub drop, aftercare, pnv!sex, multiple orgasms, intercrural sex, cumming in pants, lil bit of background story but mainly P O R N

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk @arcielee @sugarpoppss2 @lovelykhaleesiii @starogeorgina @moncherrii @bambitas @targaryenbarbie @fairysluna @thought--bubble @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @gemini-mama @valeskafics

Thanks @tumblin-theworldaway for helping my mind crank up heheheheeh

Criston knew he was off— something never wired right in his brain. Most people would interview him and see the rags-to-riches story. He came from trash, really, his dad was the janitor at the big boxing gym in the city. Coach Dondarrion told people they let Criston train for free as his father worked so tirelessly.

In reality, he couldn’t stop getting into fights at school. It was unchecked anger growing out of control. Criston’s mother and father begged Dondarrion to take him on and help channel that aggression. It likely saved his life. He was only 10 and beating kids’ faces in over slights— imagined or real. He was horribly possessive, jealous, and lost. Boxing seemed to put a lid on that.

Occasionally he’d have to be ripped off an opponent. Whispers of Criston Cole being a psycho were rampant. He was twenty-three when he got his current manager. She worked miracles. His everything— Criston loved the woman so much that sometimes it hurt his head, thoughts too intense to siphon through.

He’d known her from the Blackhaven gym, she was a daughter of Coach Swann and knew the realm of boxing pretty well. Coach Dondarrion brought her into the picture when Criston almost killed a man in the ring.

She didn’t bat an eye when Criston snarled and tried to intimidate her— only cocking her head and snorting like he was an unruly animal. He’ll never forget the words she said after. It was a shift for the boxer.

“Do that again and you won’t fight this week. I’m in charge now. You’re my prize pet. If you want to keep being a prize pet then you’ll listen to me,” she stated, manicured nail poking his chest.

The bigger man still had no clue what came over him, but her words were like a balm. This was what Criston needed— firm orders and guidance. He hoped at the time she could help him with all the mess in his head. Criston nodded and replied, “Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy. Let’s come up with some rules. You like rules don’t you?”

No unnecessary jabs, no yelling, work on riding the bike and going through footwork, and no cumming until he had won.

Those were the rules before a fight. Criston abided by them religiously. Even if he was like a caged animal towards the lead-up to the big event. He would feel himself grow more and more agitated— actively restraining from ripping his opponent's jaw off. Cole probably looked psycho, with dark eyes intense, jaw clenching. But his expression remained eerily placid. His manager liked that and said she could smell the fear off the other guy.

Criston remained undefeated, she must be right he thought. Coach Dondarrion said Swann was a goddamn genius. She was perfect like that. He hated she wouldn’t go public with their relationship, Criston would wind himself up into an obsessive tizzy over it.

But when he won again, and again, she was there to take care of him. They’d get through the usual press, Criston would shower, and they’d ride back to the hotel together. The air was charged in the back seat. She’d slapped his wandering hands away the first couple of times.

Now he knew to stay put and she’d tend to his face or scratch his hair, careful of any knots and bruising. It felt so fucking good the first time she touched him, he had cum in his sweats before even reaching the hotel. Whining and writhing as she cooed and put ice on his black eye or taped a busted nose— he couldn’t remember exactly.

His manager had cooed in surprise when he seized up and gasped, wetting the inside of his briefs, “Oh, baby? You came? Needed that, didn’t you? Criston Cole, my prized pet, big bad man, didn’t know you liked being loved on. You deserve it, baby, I’m here for you, always.”

Her words had simultaneously embarrassed and made Criston want to kneel at her feet, awaiting her next command. He remained quiet, cheeks flushing heavily, worried internally his nose would start bleeding. Swann curled at his side and stroked his messy curls.

“Don’t be ashamed, you deserve to feel good. ‘Sides I know you have more to go, gotta be pretty full from going a week. You want me to take care of that, empty you out?”

Criston gritted his teeth and whined. He wanted it so bad. The demon in his head teased and prodded him, spitting lies. “She thinks you’re a weak little bitch, you really gonna spread your legs and bare your neck like a slut?” the voice said. He moaned softly, pained from the dissonance.

His manager whispered gently, a small hand rubbing soothing circles on his chest.

“Criston, baby, stop thinking so much, and let me do it for you.”

He melted into her warm embrace, the proposition flicking on a switch he didn’t know existed. She smiled as he slurred out a ‘yes’ and went lax under her palms. Criston didn’t know at the time— that submitting completely to another made his mind stop for a bit.

He was euphoric, eyes focused on her as they entered the hotel. She waved off any reporters and led him by the hand. Criston clung to her like a needy child in the elevator, his cock swelled up again. The manager let him rut a bit on her tight skirt and giggled at his desperation.

When they finally, finally gotten to the room— she stripped Criston down and made him cum until he cried, all the adrenaline sapped out of his body. He lost count of how many times her mouth and hand brought him to completion. He got to float in his head, tongue too thick and limbs too heavy to do anything but whine and be coddled.

Criston woke up later as a new man. He felt he could breathe. Then the games began as his record kept going up, Cole escalating to the fucking top. He didn’t know what to do with all the money except buy his family a house and Swann anything she desired.

He’d won again. Shaking his fist and snarling obscenities at Strong on the ground. He’d get another fuck-ton of money and go home happy. He’d picked up the belt and grinned, elated at his thirtieth win. On the top of the world.

Criston’s mind began to whirl as he stalked down the hallway. He briskly showered and answered a couple of questions to the press. She waited to the side, sinful red lips curled upwards. Swann was wearing the red bottoms he bought her, pretty legs shown off in her little dress and blazer.

When she nodded toward the exit he followed, agitated at the annoying reporter still asking questions. Criston didn’t want to upset her, so he kept his mouth shut and followed along, pulling his hoodie up. His balls fucking throbbed. He wanted to fuck his angel so bad, maybe she’d let him on a special occasion like this.

He got into the dark luxury vehicle, inhaling her sweet scent. Criston was close to getting feral, mouth watering at the possibilities. Still, he remained mute. Until she shifted, facing him in the dark, eyes full of affection. Criston couldn’t help the thin whine that burst from his chest at her attention.

“Look’it you. Took down Breakbones, got thirty wins, fucking hell baby,” she drew closer to him, “Criston Cole, you’re the real deal! You wanna fuck me, baby boy? I think you’ve earned it.”

“Pleaseplease, yes, fucking yes,” he pled.

A stagnant pause fell over the back of the car.

“Thank you,” he moaned, “Thank you.”

“Good boy, don’t forget your manners.”

She placed a warm hand high on his thigh, massaging the sore muscle. Her other palm caressed Criston’s patched-up cheek. She hummed “A kiss?” He nodded eagerly, vibrating in place, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. But Criston knew he had to be her good boy.

The woman softly pecked his lips, pulling back to watch Criston chase with a sad noise. She smiled and kissed him again, deeper this time. He eagerly opened his mouth for her, shivering as her nimble tongue playfully lapped at his own. Criston’s hands balled up in his sweats— no touching, no touching unless given permission.

Their lips wetly smacked in the dark car, her hand moving up to rub maddeningly at his straining cock. Criston cried out into her mouth, hips bucking helplessly. She laughed and nibbled on his shapely lower lip, hand squeezing his manhood.

“S’all mine isn’t it? My cock, just for me.”

He nodded in misery, his body wanted to let go, but it was a bit of a process to get Criston in the headspace he wanted. She knew how to get him there. Like her lips against his ear, tits pressed against his chest as she purred, “Easy love, relax, I’ve got you honey.”

“Mmm- gods, need it,” he gritted out, dark eyes lolling.

As her firm hand jerked him over the sweats, Criston’s manager nipped and kissed at his clean-shaven cheeks and neck. She whispered, “Sweet boy, I know you are s’hard, relax, relax, you’re gonna get to cum all night baby. As much as you want, just gotta let go okay?”

She praised and played with him some more, Criston began to pant hoarsely, thighs shaking as he neared the precipice. She tutted when the car stopped, “Get yourself together baby, we’re here now.” He blinked, a tear falling down his cheek, bewildered by the way she left him.

He was so fucking close! The boxer sulked and groaned at his denied orgasm, eyes watery from how intense his balls were throbbing now. He wiped his eyes and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up again, keeping his head low. He hoped the half-assed tucking of his hard-on worked.

They walked in sync to the elevators. He sulked, “M’so hard it hurts.” Criston’s girl pouted her lips, patting his cheek, “I know, I know sweet boy, but we can’t keep the driver waiting. Almost there, don’t be so needy.”

Criston wrapped his arms around her waist, tucking his face into her neck. He would be good, he wouldn’t hump or bite. He merely wanted to hold her for a second before the elevator dinged. Swann hummed and nuzzled back into his hair.

Onward they went, Criston’s mind growing fuzzier and fuzzier as his body thrummed with need. Upon entering the penthouse suite— her entire demeanor changed. She snapped, “Go get undressed and kneel for me by the bed.”

He nodded in little jerks, undressing and folding them neatly, just how his mistress liked. Criston shuddered as the cool air hit his cock, swallowing heavily as he knelt before the foot of the bed. His hands shook with need, his adrenaline still thrashing and pumping underneath the skin.

He was downright panting by the time she came out of the bathroom, naked as he was. Criston bit on his lip, eyes watering again. The angel laughed, “You sure are worked up tonight.” She padded behind Criston, winding a hand into his hair, eliciting another agonized noise from the boxer.

“You are so damn talented, the Warrior smiles on you. I’m proud.”

“Thank you, thank you ma'am,” he whispered.

“I’m going to get on the bed and you’re going to fuck all that energy and cum out okay?”

“Yes ma’am- ohmygods.”

Criston’s brows pulled together as she laid before him, legs crooked and spread, her cunt shining with slick. He growled, digging his nails into the skin of his thigh. She crooked her fingers playfully, “C’mon baby, you’re allowed to touch. Use me, my special pet earned it.”

He almost felt bad in the way he roughly had pulled her ass flush to his hips, the flesh smacking loudly. Criston had eagerly gotten on his knees in the center of the soft bed, slotting his swollen cock against her slick pussy. “F-fuck, fuck, gonna use you baby, ’m sorry,” he gritted out. She smiled and shrugged, moaning as he rutted against her a couple more times.

Criston’s dark eyes rolled up as he entered her velvet cunt, warm and sososo tight. He snarled as he snapped his hips into his baby. She was crying out and digging sharp nails into his shoulders. Cole knew he was lost in the feeling, rasping and groaning possessive, ugly things he would never say out loud.

But when legs were wrapped around his waist and she was mewling his name? Criston had lost his firm barriers. He rumbled into her ear between kisses and bites, “My godsdamn pussy, mine, you’re mine, I’ll f-fucking kill anyone who touches you, looks at you, gods I’ll do anything!”

He groaned, balls drawing up quicker than expected. She was crying out “Yes! yes! All yours!” Criston sucked in a wet breath at her neck, hips driving into her at a breakneck pace, hands bruising her pretty skin. He choked on his drool, unable to warn her— Criston’s orgasm was that intense.

She tightened around him when his cock flooded, absolutely flooded her pussy. Criston moaned and clenched his jaw, fucking through the oversensitivity. His girl dug her heels into his ass to spur him on. The boxer swallowed down a little mewl. Everything was still so swollen, he had to keep fucking, keep cumming.

“Mmm, yes! Don’t stop baby, oh Criston!”

“I-I am, fuuuck, g’nna fill you up again!"

He drove his hips upward, lifting her hips so that Criston could get at her g-spot. She raked a bloody mark across his back, gasping in delight. He rambled while thumbing desperately at her clit, “Yeah, yeah, feel s’good, cum on me baby, need to feel you, m’close again!”

Criston wasn’t sure if it was her gorgeous wail or her pussy gushing on his cock or both but he came again. She chose to mouth at his lips, shaky legs clenching around him, hand pulling the hair at the nape of his neck. Meanwhile, he whined Swann’s name, the quickness of his second orgasm turning Criston’s brain into jello.

The slick noises between them were loud and sloppy, he was stuttering and whining. She threw her pretty head back and moaned. Criston was finding words hard. He kept fucking and fucking. She felt too good and he had so much cum for her.

“That’s it, keep it up,” she grunted.

Criston slurred, “Ca-can’t stop, can’t, can't!”

He felt his eyes grow wet as his overstimulated cock was gripped and milked by her cunt. The angel, his angel, wrapped her arms around his sweaty neck, his hips forcing little 'uhs' out of her plush lips. Criston blabbered uselessly, words bordering on sobs now. It felt too good, the pain and pleasure were ecstasy to him. He bottomed out inside her, stopping to mewl long and high before returning to feverishly thrusting again.

“Oh, oh, angel- hurts- s’good ohmygods your pussy, gotta cum again, m’sorry m’so sorry!”

She nuzzled at his jaw, moaning, “It’s okay, doing so good for me, needy baby. You needed this, poor baby’s balls are so full.”

“S’full,” he agreed, mindless and shivering.

Criston’s thighs began to twitch as he felt another wave cresting. He practically wailed as the third peak licked up his spine— white hot and mean. She gasped, nails digging into his flanks, pussy pulsing around another load of Criston’s molten cum.

He was a mess, wordless and drooling. Criston began to move again, gaze unfocused and mouth agape. He whimpered, all overstimulated and still fucking frantic. Criston felt like he’d die if he didn’t stop, tears pouring down his flushed cheeks.

Her hands held his face now, her lips saying something. Criston slowly cocked his head, attempting to understand his manager’s words. She said it again, this time louder with a smack to his cheek. Criston stopped his movements, protesting with a weak noise.

“Babydoll, you gotta fuck my thighs, I'm starting to hurt. I’m going to turn over, okay precious? Got that?”

His lips trembled— Criston didn’t want to do that. He wanted her pussy. He slid out anyway, a torrent of white spend flooding out of her well-used entrance, seeping onto the bed. She marveled "Oh Criston, you still have anything left?" The woman hissed under her breath as she flipped onto her stomach. She tucked a pillow under her hips, giving him access to her thighs, slicked with their release.

Criston stared— unsure how to proceed. His cock was so flushed it purpled, aching horribly. He whined, frustrated with his stupidity, the man just wanted familiar tightness again. She sighed and reached back, ushering his knees and thighs to cage her legs in, forcing Criston forward.

He gasped in delight when his cock slid between her soft thighs, warm and wet. His depleted brain decided this would do. Criston’s thrusts were jerky and uncoordinated, he was growing too sensitive to go on much further. He kept at it, crying and sniffling like a babe.

“Awe baby, you’re hurting huh?”

“Mhm!” he replied, scrunching his face up tight. He had to cum one more time, he had to! Even if it was excruciating, the pleasure ramped up into nerves prickling all over his worn body. She watched him with lidded eyes, lips in a smirk. Criston exhaled again, throwing his head back to sob.

“Gotta- I gotta,” he mewled.

“I know sweetheart, so close, let it all out, you’ll feel so much better. You’re so pretty like this— all fucked out and still want more. Knocked your whore brain sideways. My cute slutty puppy, I love youuu.”

Criston folded under the praise, his body contracting once more, stomach cramping as he devolved into cries. His abused cock managed to dribble one little last bit. He couldn’t stop crying, falling back onto his haunches. Swann guided him down to shush and pet his hair. She murmured, "You're okay, all done now, I'm here, not going anywhere. Just breathe."

Criston’s muscles were all loose but the adrenaline had been sapped quickly. He was gutted— in a good way. Just couldn’t help the reaction, he knew it would happen after an intense romp like this. His baby curled into his heaving side, laying feathery kisses on his jaw, a relaxing hand at his diaphragm.

“That’s it, let it out, poor baby. Couldn’t help yourself hm?”

Criston nodded through the incessant tears, his shaky hand threading through her hair. He rasped, “I love you so much. You’re perfect.” He was growing more sleepy, settled by her kisses and glowing smile. He could float easy and enjoy the win, curled up with his lifesaver. Well, after she got him water and wiped down the mess. He realized with a smile— she had laid a towel underneath them.

She’d have to help him function tomorrow, Criston knew he’d be scrambled eggs, sore, and a bit grumpy. But that’s why they kept a suite for three days. After the kick off he would rest up and replenish. They would fuck sensually, cuddle, and watch a in some order of that fashion.

His addled mind conjured up a big diamond ring he’d buy for her.

[luvendiary]

of moons and crowns / r. lupin

remus lupin x reader; royal!au

part 2

a/n: hiiii! i've been mia for a bit now. life's been pretty hectic. i've had this one on the drafts for a really long time, so in my spare time i've been slowly adding to it, and i think i got carried away. there's a part 2 in the works, so let me know if you'd like to see that. also i'm really sorry for all the requests i haven't put out. there's some that i have already started. i'll try my best to get to them. but honestly, i try to work on what inspires me rather than the order in which they were sent since i can't dedicate a lot of time to this anymore because of college. as always, let me know what you think. also, i think this is the first marauders fic i publish!

summary: the life of a servant in the palace was hectic. the life of a servant in the palace who so happened to get along with the princes, was even more so.

It wasn’t everyday that a royal ball was announced. Especially not one where the three crowns would be attending. 

The kingdom was buzzing with excitement, and even whilst doing your daily chores you could not be spared of the gossiping and chattering.

“Do you think that both Black princes will attend?” one of the maids -Lucy- asked dreamily from across the small pond you were washing your clothes at. 

“I sure hope so!” another chimed in. “But I have my eye on the Crescentwatch prince…” she continued dreamily.

“I’ve heard he is quite handsome”, you said with a giggle. As you couldn’t help but to offer your two cents of the conversation. 

“You already have two handsome princes in your palm,” she said in a joking manner. “Leave some for the rest of us.”

“I can assure you Eva, that Sirius and I have no romantic intentions with each other. And as for James…well, he is James”, you explained simply as you splashed a bit of water into your fellow maid,

Your friendship with the princes was a strange phenomenon. Royalty would usually limit themselves with interactions amongst their social ranking, however thanks to your time working with the Most Noble House of Black, an out-of-odds friendship had sparked with the heir. Truth was, your time with them had not been a fairy tale. In fact, it had been quite the opposite. You had experienced their abuse and mistreatment first hand whilst working for them. And last time the Blackhaven monarchs had visited the kingdom, they made sure to make your life impossible, just for old times sake. You were no stranger to the Kingdom of Blackheaven’s tyrant rulers. But you were also no stranger to the kindness of their heir. Sirius Black had been your only distraction from the torment of the monarch’s unending chores.

Your friendship with Sirius started one night when he found you out in the gardens after a particularly cruel punishment from King Orion. Your hair was a mess, and angry tears had rolled down your blotched face. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You had been pacing angrily and muttering to yourself about how you would give him a piece of your mind one day. How you couldn’t care less about losing your head if that meant you could be far from them. 

In a moment of pure anger and frustration, your hand flew out in a fist and hit a tree. You had immediately regretted that, as all you received back was a pair of bloody knuckles. 

“You might want to be more careful”, an amused voice said, immediately flooding you with panic. The previous heat that had been flowing through your body because of the anger vanished. Being replaced with dreadful cold instead. 

“Your majesty…” you breathed out, as you straightened your posture. There in front of you stood Sirius Black in all his glory. His long hair was tied up, and his white shirt was sloppily tucked in his waistband. 

For a brief moment you considered acting as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't caught you cursing the absolute hell out of his parents. But you were tired. You could not put up a front anymore.

Your body deflated visibly once again, and you ran a hand through your hair. 

“I would say that I’m sorry for my imprudent behavior, my prince. But that would be a lie”.

A moment of silence passed between you two. You patiently waited for him to say something. A death sentence maybe. However the next thing that came out of his mouth was far from that. 

Laughter boomed from deep within his chest, making your head snap up immediately. Was he mocking you? Was death just a joke to him? For a brief moment you chastised yourself from expecting anything different from the Black Heir. After all, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. 

“I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t mock me. I doubt that death is a laughing matter, even for royalty”.

Sirius’ laughter dissolved into small chuckles. “Death? What do you mean?”

“My execution. I got punished earlier today because I poured the king the wrong type of wine. I highly doubt that you'll let me off the hook with just a warning for badmouthing them”.

A flash of anger and hurt passed through Sirius’ eyes before a soft grin adorned his features. “Lucky for you, I’m not my parents”.

Confusion made its way to your features. “So you won’t kill me?”

“Why would I do that?” he said approaching you. He inspected you for a moment before taking your hand and eyeing your bloody knuckles. 

He dragged you to a nearby bench and without hesitation ripped a part of his shirt before proceeding to carefully -but sloppily- wrap your wounds with it.

You stayed quiet through it all. The correct thing would have been protest and decline his acts of service. He was royalty after all, and you were supposed to be attending him. But you were so tired. 

“Let me see it”, he spoke up after a while. 

“What?” 

“Your punishment”.

You glanced up at him with tired eyes. You considered sparing him from the sight of the marks on your back. But to hell with everything. He should know what his servants were going through under his father’s reign. He was going to be king one day after all, and he needed to know if a change was going to be made.

You turned your back to him and carefully unbuttoned the back of your dress. The fabric had been scratching at your new injury, making it redder than it already was. 

There in between your shoulder blades was a deep scorch mark in the shape of  the king’s crest. The wound was deep from the several burnings you had gotten over the years. Some were even unaligned from their usual place. A result of your trashing and pleading for mercy.

You expected a gasp or an indication of surprise from the prince. But you heard nothing. Instead, from your peripheral vision you saw him uncorking a small vial of a dark purple paste. He dipped his fingers into it and carefully smeared it on your back. 

The cool sensation of the paste combined with his fingers on your skin and the stinging of your wound, made you tense up. 

“I’m no stranger to my father’s rage” he whispered.

Only then did it occur to you that the rumors of Sirius’ rebellious personality and his constant acting out in events might not please Walburga and Orion. 

“Has he branded you too?” you asked bluntly.

“Yes, but not with the family crest. That would mean that he’d had to consider me his property. And if it were up to him, he would have disinherited me a long time ago”, he explained as he closed the vial. “He prefers a simpler method when it comes to me”, he continued. 

You did not expect him to show you anything. Royalty tended to protect their honor in that way. They didn't want to appear weak, especially not in the presence of their subjects. But Sirius kept surprising you. Slowly, he untucked his shirt and lifted it just enough for  you to see the lash marks that peeked over his stomach and seemed to take root from his back. 

You didn’t say anything. Your hand twitched in your lap, aching to trace the scars and maybe provide the same attendance that he had offered you. But you stopped yourself and instead just looked at him, eyes full of exhaustion. 

“Why haven’t you abdicated? You can get out of here. I’ve heard of your friendship with Prince James and Prince Remus. Everyone knows that the Noblehaven royal family would take you in in a heartbeat”.

He chuckled. “I hardly think it's fair to leave my kingdom behind. I want to free my people of my parent’s torture. And I think that his anger is a sign that I’m going in the right direction. It means that I’m making  changes -changes he doesn’t approve of”.

You chuckled. “I’d hardly call getting drunk during the Queen’s Jubilee making changes”. 

He laughed. “No one ever speaks to me like that”.

“Does that mean that I just got myself a death sentence?” 

He smirked, “It means I like you. You say what you mean. Unapologetically”.

You chuckled and smiled to yourself. You wouldn’t admit it to him, but you thought you liked him too.

Ever since then, your meetings with Sirius had become more frequent. Whenever his father decided to punish either of you, the other would attend to their wounds. You would both bond over your dislike for his parents and would never fail to make the other laugh. 

It wasn’t until one particular bad punishment that Sirius decided he needed to get you out of there as quickly as possible. So against your wishes, he arranged for you to be presented as a “gift”  to the royal family of Noblehaven. 

“You can’t be serious!” you screamed as you stormed into his chambers.

“I’m always Sirius,” he said, unbothered by your anger.

“You can’t just gift me away! I won’t go!”

Sirius closed his book and slowly looked up at you. “I’ll miss you too. I’ll miss you so much. But I can’t keep seeing you get punished. It’s not fair. I already talked with James. He’ll take care of you. You’ll be in good hands, I promise”. You noticed a teary smile make its way to his face. “You’ll be safe”.

You tried to stay mad, you tried so hard to not break. But a sob managed to escape your lips and you crushed into his body as you wrapped your arms around his torso. 

“I can’t leave you Sirius. I can’t go knowing you’re still here. Who will take care of your wounds?”

He laughed, amused by your protests. Truth was, you did so much more than just take care of his wounds. He couldn’t imagine his life these past years without you. But for your own good, he will have to now. “I can manage”, he replied as he hugged you back and buried his nose in your hair.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The Noblehaven royals had done right by their promise. They provided you with far more commodities than the Blacks ever did. You had also managed to befriend Prince James. You often found him in the halls and he made sure to send a flirty comment your way, which you always replied with a sickly sweet voice, pretending to swoon with his advances. Your whole act was amusing for him. Which is why he also liked to search for you whenever you had work to do, so he could chat your ear off. 

It was to no surprise then, that when the ball was announced, James had come running to you to give you the news. You were over the moon when you realized you’d see Sirius again soon, which had put you in a fantastical mood for the rest of the day. Perhaps in too good of a mood, since you had forgotten that Sirius would not be coming alone.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your fellow maids, as they called out your name. You hadn’t realized you had been harshly scrubbing the coarse fabric against your skin, causing it to turn visibly red. You looked up to find the girls already looking at you with amused expressions.

“I think someone’s waiting for you,” one of them said as she subtly signaled to something behind you. 

Following her gaze, you came to find none other than James standing by the outhall of the gardens. Your heart immediately jump started. He could possibly bring news of Sirius.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, smiling apologetically at your friends.

The two of them giggled before easing your worries, offering to take your basket of unwashed clothes in with them if you weren’t back by the time they were done. 

You thanked them quickly before skipping over to the prince.

“Your highness”, you said as you curtsied.

James chuckled and offered you a little bow of his own. “My lady, I bring pleasing news for you”.

“Get over with it James!” you said as you punched him lightly. “Sirius is coming right? Will I be able to see him? Please don’t let me be their maid in waiting again!”.

“Calm down dearest”, he said as he patted the arm that had been previously interlocked with his. “The Blacks did send in a particular request for you, and unfortunately it’s not mine to deny”.

Your posture deflated immediately. You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn't noticed James leading you to the guest wing of the palace.

“We're here…” he said as he let your arm go. 

Your eyes immediately went wide. “They're here already?!” you whispered harshly. “I can’t go in there! They’ll kill me if I show up like this!” you rambled as you pointed to the tethered dress you wore. 

“It’ll be alright. I won’t leave your side”, he assured you. Although his words did little to calm you down, you knew they couldn’t cause you actual harm in here. Which is why you weren’t throwing an absolute fit over the situation. You were a maid after all, and it was your duty to do as the royals requested.

You sighed and attempted to fix your clothes along with your wild hair which had begun to set itself free from the braid you had constricted it into just this morning. “I thought you were supposed to give me good news…” you mumbled before straightening up and reaching for the door handle, missing completely the grin James was trying to suppress.

You prepared yourself mentally for facing the two most terrible people you ever had the displeasure of meeting. But you were surprised to find one figure instead of two. He was the same as his father, except that he was totally different in all the right ways. His sharp features had never looked so beautiful to you, and his tied up hair was a good sign. He felt comfortable.

Your hands immediately flew up to cover your mouth and you felt your knees buckle. “Sirius…” you whispered as a huge smile morphed your face.  

“Well, don’t just stand there…” he said with a laugh as he opened his arms, inviting you in for a hug. 

You wasted no time immediately running up to him and jumping into his arms. “I’m so happy to see you!”

“I´m happy to see you too,” he said. You felt his chest rumble with deep laughter, and it just settled in the fact that he was here.

“Oh god…” you separated immediately from him. “Where are your parents? They're going to kill me”, you whispered frantically.

“That's the best part,” James jumped in as he wrapped his arm around Sirius cheerfully. “They are not coming”. 

The revelation that the dreaded Black monarchs were not attending the royal ball lifted a tremendous weight off your shoulders. The relief was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel grateful to whatever twist of fate had kept them away.

Sirius noticed your visible relief and chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "No need to worry. James and I have our ways of handling them. We convinced them that attending this ball would not align with their interests. Besides, they've grown tired of these social gatherings."

You exchanged a glance with James, who winked at you playfully. It seemed the princes had orchestrated this whole scenario to ensure your peace of mind. Your gratitude towards them deepened, and you couldn't help but smile at the thoughtfulness of your friends. You also couldn't help but to think of what Sirius had implied. It wasn’t in the likes of the Blacks to show weakness such as exhaustion. They would always make sure to show other kingdoms their coldness and unwavering manner. But if what Sirius said was true, maybe Walburga and Orion’s reign was coming to an end. Maybe it was finally time for Sirius to step up to the throne and finally lead Blackhaven into prosperity. No wonder he looked so healthy. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As the days leading up to the royal ball unfolded, life within the palace took on a whirlwind of excitement and preparation. Noblehaven was adorned with flowers, banners, and elaborate decorations, creating an enchanting atmosphere in anticipation of the grand event.

Sirius and James, with their usual mischievous flair, took it upon themselves to involve you in the preparations. You had already told them -repeatedly- that your attendance at the ball was not assured, and even if it was it would not be as a guest, but rather as a servant. That did not discourage them, however, from imagining your dress, which was starting to sound more like an elaborate pastry to you.

In the midst of this bustling activity, you found yourself navigating the corridors of the palace on an errand to deliver a message for King Fleamont, James's father. The palace, as majestic as it was, could be quite confusing for someone not accustomed to its intricacies.

In your rush to fulfill your duty, you turned a corner and collided with a figure rushing in the opposite direction. Books and papers scattered across the floor, and the collision left both of you momentarily stunned.

"I'm so sorry! I should have been more careful," you exclaimed, hastily bending down to collect the fallen items. Heat rushed to your face, praying to whoever was listening that this mysterious figure was not any sort of royalty. 

A warm chuckle reached your ears, and you looked up to find a young man with sandy-brown hair and gentle hazel eyes, who was also crouched down, gathering the scattered belongings. Your first instinct was to plead for him not to worry about the mess you had just made, but one look at him had you speechless. 

"No, it's my fault. I was not looking where I was going," he replied with a smile, handing you a few loose papers.

Standing in front of you was none other than Crescentwatch’s own heir, Remus Lupin himself. 

You had heard James and Sirius talking about him. Everyone knew they were basically brothers. The other maids also talked a lot about him. His handsome face, his mysterious scars, his dreamy eyes, and his soft hair. But for some reason you had always seemed uninterested in the topic. You supposed that royal gossip wasn’t as entertaining when you were so close to it. You had enough things to deal with with James and Sirius, adding another royal to the mix didn’t sound as appealing, especially if he would be as rambunctious as the other two. 

Still, the prince’s handsome features were not lost on you.

“I'm so very sorry your majesty!” you said as you offered him a curtsy. 

“Oh please- that's not- '' his words were cut short by a louder voice coming from down the hallway that called your name.

“I've been looking all over for you!” James said as he jogged up to the pair. Next to him, Sirius’ grin widened as he realized who you had just bumped into.

“Ah! So you’ve finally caught the third prince uh?”

“I-” you looked frantically between the three men who now blocked your way to King Fleamont’s study. “I’m sorry, I should’ve looked where I was going”, you said frantically trying to get past them.

James laughed. “I hope that you’re on your way to try your dress on”, he teased.

“Are you sure you’d like to know about my dress or are you more interested in Princess Lili’s gown?” you shot back as you reorganized your papers and combed a hand through your messy-looking hair. 

Sirius laughed, Remus chuckled and James turned red. “That’s what I thought”, you mumbled pleased with yourself. “Besides, the only gown I’ll be wearing is my uniform. The fancier one, if you’d like details.”

Sirius groaned. “But you were supposed to be my date!”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. You would’ve loved to attend the ball with them. They were your closest friends. Despite that, you could not ignore your social standing. It would not be appropriate for a prince (a crown prince, at that), to be seen in such a formal event with a servant. 

“I already get enough comments on how I charmed my way into your bed and out of Blackhaven Sirius. I don’t need more of those, especially when they aren’t true.” 

Sirius sighed dramatically.

Remus spoke up then, “what about me?”

Your shocked expression made a small smile appear on his face. Up until now he had watched you retaliate James’ and Sirius’ comments with ease. Leaving you speechless was something he prided himself with. Even if you had just met a few moments ago, both princes would not stop talking about you. 

“What about you, your majesty?” you asked.

He chuckled at the title. “What if you were my date?”

You glanced around at the boys. James’ mouth hung open, and Sirius had an unbelieving smile on his face. 

“You sly dog…” you heard the latter mutter as you gently tapped Jame’s chin close. 

“Is that an order?” you asked with a small tilt of your head. You still weren’t sure where exactly you stood with him.

“It’s an invitation,” he replied, without missing a beat. 

After a moment of silence -and uninterrupted eye contact with the Crescentwatch prince- a small smile broke its way onto your face, despite you trying to remain serious. 

“Goodbye your majesty,” you said with a curtsy, before turning around and resuming your way to King Fleamont’s study. 

Silence remained amongst the three boys. Each still trying to comprehend what had just happened. 

“So the good news is…”, James said after a moment. “That wasn't a no”.

That seemed to break Sirius off his trance as he jumped onto Remus and started blabbering about how he didn’t know he had it in him. 

Remus however, did not hear a single thing his friends were saying. With a smile still gracing his features, he wondered what his next move would be.

[knightsickness]

aemon dragonknight takes a poisoned arrow for daeron has to go home and then comes back only to be on the scene when daeron is successfully assassinated which this time he fails to prevent. then he’s captured and hung naked in a cage until BAELOR of all people comes to rescue him and then aemon has to bodily drag baelor to blackhaven. my favourite thing abt aemon is hes soooo impossibly lame his entire life is stupid episodes like this and various tourney wins how does he keep coming up in goat discussions. archetypal overhyped tourney knight

[horizon-verizon]

Show!Criston is Dornish. In the first episode, there’s a scene where he takes off his helmet at the tourney and Alicent has this almost horrorstruck expression and exclaims “he’s Dornish” while she and Rhaenyra are gossiping. Since Dorne is not a part of Westeros at this point, it’s meant to be viewed as unusual that a Dornishman showed up to a Westerosi tourney.

*EDITED POST* (12/12/23)

Anon refers to this post.

Look, this is why I don't care for this show aside from the larger criticisms about it's racism, sexism, etc. Claims of either/both "The text of Fire and Blood is unreliable so I won't think of researching the lore" and "I will use what I 'remember' of the lore to make my own story". If we are really doing the "these are two canons" nonsense, this is why I say you cannot look to HotD for accuracy or telling you what the ASoIaF lore is. Because I went back to look at three separate scripts for episode 1, and this anon is correct that Alicent calls him Dornish as soon as she sees him (more at end).

The show leads us to think he is Dornish because he says in episode 2 that he is from the Dornish Marches, whose inhabitants are marchers and if you didn't know your ASoIaF lore, you wouldn't know that the Dornish Marches are not considered Dornish territory at all. Those who live in the marches are called "marchers". Marchers and the Dornish have fought each other for centuries and really hate each other.

And yet the "Narrator" section of a episode 1 script online that I've found calls Criston a "Dornish" knight, so in the show, Criston seems like he's supposed to be Dornish. However, in all the scripts for episode 2 AND while watching the episode, it's made clear that Criston comes from the castle Blackhaven, which is not in Dorne! Until GRRM comes out with new information or someone provides proof that Criston or his father emigrated from Dorne, Criston is supposed to be a Stormlander and a Stoemland marcher at that, even in the show.

There was a time when I thought Criston was Dornish in the original story--would have identified as such--until I went back and researched.

Unofficial(?) Episode 1' script's Narrator Portion (SOURCE):

During old king Jaehaerys Targaryen’s reign, tragedies took his sons’ lives, leaving the succession undecided. A Great Council convenes to choose Westeros’ future ruler. Jaehaerys’ grandchildren, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen and Prince Viserys Targaryen (Rhaenys’ younger cousin) are the candidates. Westerosi law gives a male heir precedence over a female, regardless their birth order and Viserys is chosen. Nine years into King Visery I’s reign, the Triarchy, an alliance formed by the free cities of Essos, threatens the kingdom, wanting to seize the Stepstones region. Viserys must also restrain his brother Daemon’s brutality as the City Watch commander in King’s Landing. Viserys, certain that pregnant Queen Aemma will bear him a son, holds a tournament to celebrate the impending birth. During the event, Dornish knight, Ser Criston Cole defeats Daemon in a competition while Queen Aemma and her son die in childbirth. The Hand of the King, Ser Otto Hightower, proposes that Viserys’ only living child, the young princess Rhaenyra, be named heir to the Iron Throne. After a dispute with Daemon, Viserys proclaims Rhaenyra as the next ruler.

Possible that this was just a draft, as the officially released script for the pilot episode shows only Alicent calling him Dornish and no mention of his actual heritage. (SOURCE)

It's possible that the writers tried to show, through Alicent's pointing Criston out, that his looks lend to "outsider" and thus a sort of racial or ethnic pressure (or plain xenophobia) in his characterization. Show!Alicent could, in the universe, just mistake him for Dornish because he looks like their idea of Dornish.

However nothing follows up here to build from that element into his actions and how people treat him later on, and if it's not on screen nor even something the characters themselves hint, use, etc, it doesn't exist in the story's universe.

[buckysteve]

Ser Criston Cole. Son of the steward of the Lord of Blackhaven.

[lillianastras]

Queen of Love and Beauty  || Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader

TW: blood and violence (like, a lot of it... they are no good people here)

Summary: The final duel of the tourney is about more than glory. 

The loud voice of the announcer rose over the excited buzz of the crowd as everyone’s attention turned to the grounds. Whether everybody already knows that this fight is not merely for glory, for winning a battle and be rewarded with the cheers of the masses, you are not sure. Whether everybody knows that this battle will not end until one of the men lies dead in the dust. 

The black mare was huffing as impatiently as his rider, proud Sir Dondarrion of Blackhaven, the man to be your husband in a fortnight, was baring his teeth at his rival. That was his most distinguished feature, you thought, his pride. Sir Dondarrion has been well-mannered and always kind towards you, but you remember the evening when swords were drawn at the feast in the Great Hall. Will you fight me at the Red Keep, sir, the Lord Lannister had called, Arbor wine letting the word fall freely from his mouth, behind the same walls the Rogue Prince has fucked the future Lady Dondarrion against. You have no doubts that Daemon Targaryen would have killed him if he were there that day. Always the one to protect his Lady’s honour, you thought, even though this honour was lost years ago in his very own bed.

The ruby eyes of the dragon on the prince’s helmet are piercing directly at his opponent. He had told you once, over quiet talks and limbs tangled in his sheets, that it was intentionally so, that the last things his enemies were to see is the red eyes of the monster and the final blow of Dark Sister. Daemon doesn’t look at you, and he doesn’t look at the crowd as well, pays the cheers from the people no mind for what is probably the first time in his life. His pale eyes are fixed at the knight in front of him, for both of them the battle has already started. 

The announcer shouts something that you don’t really want to hear, because it makes all of this real, presents the Lord of Blackhaven and the Prince of the City and the squire boys move out of the field as the two opponents take their final places before the tourney begins. 

You try to remember how it got to this, how you had begged Daemon to stay out of the lists just this time, as if it were possible. As if he would have listened to you. You pleaded in fury, in tears, but your dragon prince had stood stubborn and unwavering, and you hated him for it. You wondered if it was not planned so from the start, if Sir Dondarrion was not a dead man walking from the very day he had asked for your hand. If the Lannisters had not called on his pride and bride and make him challenge Daemon, would have the prince done it himself?

You remember the tears his calloused hand had to wipe from your cheek, how sweet his kiss had been and his quiet reasoning of I will not let another have you, and you knew there was no way of changing his mind. You had spent the most of the night in his arms anyways, he would not let desperation lurk into your heart. His lips on yours were soft and gentle for the first time in ages and every time you suggested he should get some sleep before the dawn, he would wordlessly spread your legs again and silence you with his body, his fingers or his mouth. 

The whispers in the crowd are intensifying, bringing you back to reality, and at last the announcer makes his way out of the field. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can barely register that the two riders are charging at each other until you hear the sound of their clashing and the roar of the crowd. They turn around at the end of the way and you see the young squires hurry to give them both another lance. The force of the clash made them both turn to shreds. 

The two riders storm at each other again, but the faint smell of copper coming from the grounds makes you glance down before you see them crash. There is no time to clean the blood of the fallen from the battlefield, you think as you watch the dark red stains drying in the dust. The need to turn your head around and vomit the contents of your stomach grows and you have to take a deep breath through your nose. 

You hear the heavy sound of a body hitting the ground and your eyes shoot up to the battle again. Before you can realise what is happening, a hand reaches out from somewhere and grabs yours. Princess Rhaenys does not look at you, her eyes are glued to the tourney, but her fingers are wrapped around your palm and she gives you a firm squeeze. Courage, as if she’s trying to say, you will not face this fear alone. Your stomach turns up. 

Daemon is lying on the ground, unhorsed, and the crowd is cheering. Seven Hells, you know this fight is not going to end now. And indeed, the Rogue Prince stands up, the squire runs with Dark Sister in his hands and hands it to Daemon. Dondarrion is on his feet as well, greatsword in hand and the battle starts again, more vicious than before. You allow yourself a quick glance up, to the Royal Lodge. King Viserys’ eyes are fixed on the fight, and he does not seem particularly worried, even though you can see his silver-haired Queen whisper in his ear, worry evident on her ethereally beautiful Valyrian face. Whether the King puts enough faith in his brother, or he does not truly understand the reasoning behind this fight, you will never know. 

You are not sure how long the battle lasts, for you it feels like forever. The only thing ringing in your ears is the sound of metal meeting metal and the occasional heavy grunts coming from the knights. You let out a quiet, throaty sound when Dondarrion charges, sword landing on the Prince’s shield, the blow strong enough to make him lose balance and allow himself to be pushed in the dust. Dondarrion lifts his sword, gripping it with both of his hands, to aim for the fallen Prince’s head. “He’s going to kill him,” someone whispers worriedly, maybe Alicent Hightower, but you do not turn to confirm your suspicions. You grip Rhaenys’ hand tighter instead and fight the urge to scream. 

Dondarrion hacks down with all of his strength, but Daemon manages to roll to the side and the blow lands a hand away from his head. The Lord’s blade is stabbed into the ground and with his hands clutching the handle, he realises his mistake too late. You don’t even see where the dagger comes from, just the glint of light that reflects from it as Daemon stabs it into his opponents knee. With a cry of pain and surprise, Lord Dondarrion slumps to his knees, hand instinctively reaching for the wound. Daemon does not allow it and his kick lands exactly there, pushing his mutilated opponent to the ground. The audience cheers as the Prince stands up to kick the greatsword away, rising over Dondarrion like a dragon over a sheep, his own weapon in hand. 

The knight doesn’t even have a chance to yield before Dark Sister is plunged straight into his throat and a spray of blood covers the black steel of Daemon’s helmet. The cheers from the crowd quiet down, a desperate mother’s wail comes from somewhere in the lines. But it matters not, it matters not anymore because it’s over now and you can finally breathe with no heaviness on your chest. You are still gripping Rhaenys’ hand, even when Daemon is claimed winner and walks away from the dead body lying in the dust. 

The rose garland is covered in blood when he lays it in your lap and his voice is softer than summer rain. “For you, Milady,” he says, “Queen of Love and Beauty.”

[hotd-brainrot]

On really interesting implications the show made by making Cole Dornish

Okay so, I didn't yet see anyone talk about this and I really find it fascinating. So, what I managed to find on Cole's backstory is that he was a son of a Stewart of Lord Dondarrion at Blackhaven, in the Dornish Marches. Which isn't that important in the book, due to him being white and having a standard Stormlander appearance. However, in the show, they explicitly made him Dornish, which adds a cool twist to it.

This what I managed to find from Wiki of Ice and Fire: "The marcher lords of the stormlands have some of the strongest castles of the Seven Kingdoms, as they have defended against Dornish incursions for thousands of years."

Essentially, they are at constant war with Dorne, and it's implied Cole got his battle experience by fighting the Dornish. Which, with the show's choice of the actor and Alicent's "Gods he is Dormish" once Cole takes off the helmet could mean several things.

It implies that one of Cole's parents or grandparents was Dornish. I am inclined to lean more towards parents because if it was say, a grandmother, he'd have more of a chance to be white passing. Considering the fact that his father was a steward of one of the marcher lords, I think it's safe to assume he was a stormlander, or looked enough like one to pass off without suspicion.

That would mean Cole's mother was likely Dornish, or half Dornish. Which creates a possibly very uncomfortable implication. Either Cole's mother ran off with his father, or worse she was captured during a battle and later married him.

My point is, I kinda wish we knew more? I know shit ton of people really hate him, but that would be an interesting backstory. Would also explain why he acts the way he does in some scenes-and idk about you but even for characters I see as villains, I find that knowing their motivations is super satisfying

[daeron-dondarrion]

BLACKHAVEN -  Culture & customs

The people of Blackhaven speak the common tongue as all Westerosi, however, they also have their own regional dialect: Euskera. Several of their folkloric songs as well as their prayers are in this language. 

There is a very strong culture of music and dance in Blackhaven, which come from traditions of old that have endured for centuries, which they call flamenco/flamenkoa. There isn’t an exact record of when this particular genre of dance and music emerged, but it did a long time prior to Aegon’s conquest in the southern coast of the Stormlands, a tradition that survives only in Blackhaven to this day (more detailed information here).

This form of music and dancing has been integrated into marriage ceremonies, in which specific songs are to be played and danced. Wedding ceremonies for the people of Blackhaven last at the very least three days: one day must be for the pedimento (an official ceremony in which the groom asks the bride to marry him), day two is for the casamiento (the actual wedding ceremony), and day three and onwards is for the celebration, in which the groom invites nobles and smallfolk alike as a gesture of good faith and to continue fostering the sense of community between the people. Food is offered to the less fortunate ones as a sign of devotion to both men and gods. People give their gifts to the groom and bride at this point, however big or small, and the women of the families being united hand over carnations to thank them.

Blackhaven is rife with bazaars, or merkatuak, as they’re called there. While they’re open every day, it is during the weekdays that they fill with people, particularly after the people come out from the visits to the sept. Street food is sold, both sweet and savory, and there are street performers playing music and dancing. All sorts of foods can be found there as well as spices such as peppers, cumin, thyme and cilantro, which are harvested there. It’s worth noting there is a large guild of shoemakers in Blackhaven, so nobles and smallfolk alike can find plenty of different footwear, and these craftsmen often engage in exporting to all of the Stormlands.

The cuisine of Blackhaven is rich and varied, often specializing in meals that include rice as well as vegetables, and either beef or venison all mixed together and seasoned. There is a very homely quality to the food, and sharing meals together is a very important aspect of life in Blackhaven. So much so that they even have a word (mahaigaina) for the period of time families and friends stay at the table to continue talking even long after their dinner is over.

[allyriadayne]

could you talk more about the daynes post robert's rebellion?

SURE

first of, this is mostly my hcs, speculations and a mix of things i must have read back when there was the height of asoiaf meta in 2013 because there is almost nothing about the daynes post robert's rebellion. so bear with me.

just to set the scene, the members of house dayne left after the mess of the rebellion were the unnamed older brother of ashara and arthur, the lord and father of edric; allyria the youngest sister that i headcanon to be much younger than her older siblings seeing as she is betrothed to beric dondarrion who is was in his twenties per agot so i don't think the marriage would've occurred if allyria was in her middle thirties or forties if she was closer to ashara and arthur; edric, twelve years old, beric's loyal squire; and gerold aka darkstar head of high hermitage, also in his twenties? around arianne's age.

(c) Eddie Mendoza for the cover of A Song of Ice and Fire 2025 Calendar

under the cut because i'm crazy

i don't know if the books are ever going to make clear what happened at the toj-starfall zone but we can be sure only that ned went from one to the other with lyanna's bones and supposedly baby jon to return dawn to the daynes. ashara had a baby of father unknown and shortly after ned was there she took her own life, body never found. i go back and forward in thinking if ashara's brother lord dayne was there with her when ned went or if he was one of the dornish commanders defending the targs. in any case, his presence was completely zero during this time so i think he was too injured for a time or too sickly in general to do something to reestablish the dayne name in dorne after arthur being an important part in elia's disgrace and indirectly, her murder.

because yeah after arthur and ashara's death and going by the books there is zero mention of them, even in the chapters set in dorne or others about dornish characters make no mention of them. and it's strange considering that when you read awoiaf and f&b, the daynes are The knights of dorne. queen nymeria marries a dayne, sends a starfall king to the wall, meria martell commands a dayne to burn oldtown, arguably one of the most powerful cities of the time, out of all the sons of daeron ii and myriah martell, maekar marries a dayne, the only dornish lady. it could be nothing OR something but i think it does mean something. we see there's no daynes in oberyn's party in kl or speculation in general about the new sword of the morning beyond remembering dear old arthur. they've fallen completely into obscurity. the house was reduced to a young girl and its child lord.

edric's dad dies before agot (he doesn't seem to afflicted by his death when he meets arya if he were less than a year dead, inheriting the lordship at such a young age would've been dramatic to him), i would say just after becoming a page to beric dondarrion at 7 yo and i headcanon the marriage between beric and allyria was brokered at this time too. this was part of a fic i was writing like 500 years ago but i think lord dayne must have known he would not live too long, not to see edric grow so he must have looked for someone to prepare and take care of allyria and edric after he died. betrothing allyria to a marcher lord is......strange. if a dornish person would have to be married to someone it would go like this 1) not from the reach 2) not from the marches in that order, there is too much bad blood. the daynes have a longstanding tradition of killing oakhearts so marrying allyria to the heir of blackhaven and giving him his only heir, lord dayne entrusted a complete stranger with the future of his house.

beric would've been in charge of teaching young edric just about everything. he would be living in the stormlands for almost half his live, learning from a his maester and how to govern a stormlands' castle. meanwhile, allyria in a few years probably around agot time would be ready to marry beric when she reached her majority. she would've been the defacto ruler of starfall in edric's name when lord dayne dies, i think the idea was to swap when edric gained his spurs: he would return to starfall after a successful run as a tourney knight, probably gaining some recognition from whatever beric was tasked with at the capital (rip king) and then accompany allyria to be married to his knight master. andddd fin.

the thing is. allyria being so young during the rebellion, lord dayne absence for whatever reason and then dying, let the younger members with no connections in the wider dorne political context. it is said young children go to the water gardens and it's fun yeah but it's def a starting point for politics for many lords. it's close to the martells and it's an opportunity to make friends with future rulers, /everyone/ is going. the daynes didn't have this. allyria was probably very young when the rebellion happened (i think no older than 5) and for obvious reasons she was not sent to the water gardens; as for ned, i think lord dayne could not secure an invitation, this or he died too early to even try. if allyria had gone, she would've been for sure one of arianne's companions, she has both the breeding and the standing, but NOT and it's crucial, the reputation. see what arianne has to say in affc about gerold's standing:

"He is highborn enough to make a worthy consort, she thought. Father would question my good sense, but our children would be as beautiful as dragonlords."

it's must be passé to associate with the daynes at this point. think of the conningtons losing all standing when joncon lost the battle and was exiled.

in any case, allyria, more than edric, grew in obscurity. as of the books she's betrothed to a marcher lord nobody knows if he's alive or dead, has a missing nephew and it's in charge of one of the most ancient first men houses of westeros. sad! at least ned is having more fun. which leads me to darkstar. i see his thirst to prove himself, his notoriety as a cruel knight as another way to separate himself from what the main branch has fallen into. he is in his twenties so he was probably affected by the same dark cloud as the others.

"If I led a quarter of a million men to death, would they call me Gerold the Great? I shall remain Darkstar, I think. At least it is mine own."

he wants to have what arthur had, but not be the sword of the morning, he wants something that it's his own, as he says. he may want the sword and the fame like arthur, but not to be associated with another's bad luck so to speak. it's very telling that he's called one of "the most dangerous man in dorne" and what is the sword of the morning if not this? he's a dark mirror of the daynes pre rebellion, just like allyria would've been a renown beauty just like ashara is she wasn't cloistered. something something gerold and allyria as mirrors of what could've happened to ashara and arthur if they hadn't the protection of the monarchy.

i once read gerold is meant to have young ned's plot after germ scrapped the five year time skip and i think this is half true. i do think there is something to be done about dawn the sword and i think gerold is going to steal it and do something with it, something ned can't do because he's /still/ in the riverlands. i don't know what but i think it ties nicely with the theme of deconstructing the noble knight archetype. arthur is only great because he knew how to kill.

writing this i had a breakdown about the parallels between arthur and gerold

to finish this rambling i want to say my hopes for house dayne in what is left of asoiaf is 1) ned alive 2) gerold steals dawn 3) and like. something. honestly i will take anything at this point about allyria. DOES SHE EVEN KNOW? my poor girl and 4) if germ wants to clear the toj situation then it's fine.

thanks for asking and to anyone reaching this point lol. this is mostly general but if you want to talk about anything specific just message me! k thx muah!