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dedalvs · 3 months

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My brother and I absolutely cackled after that Aemond and Aegon Valyrian exchange!

I wanted to ask (and I'm terrible at conlangs, so forgive me) what grammar/syntax Aegon is stumbling over here and how to properly say what he intended to? Any why is he making thise mistakes (simply lacking the vocabulary, or rules of the language he hasn’t grasped)?

Let's take a look at it. This is what he said:

Nyke koston... Bēvilus... Sētegon bīlīvāzmi?

The subtitles say this:

"I can... Have to... Make a war?"

Prior to this Aemond is, essentially, showing off. He knows that Aegon has simply not put any time into studying Valyrian (or studying anything). At this stage, Valyrian is no longer spoken by the family on a day-to-day basis—especially as Alicent probably never learned it at all (or if she did, only in a few scattered lessons here and there; not to actually use). In order for either of the boys to gain any kind of fluency in the language, they have to study constantly and find ways to use it. There's simply no daily need for the language—and plenty of reasons not to use it, as very, very few people they'll encounter on a daily basis speak the language.

Now, if we were talking about two random people in Westeros, this wouldn't mean anything. But these are the children of Viserys Targaryen, himself a descendant of Aegon the Conqueror. They brought their family line and their culture with them to Westeros—and, of course, their language. If someone like Alicent Hightower doesn't speak High Valyrian it means nothing. If a Targaryen doesn't speak High Valyrian, though… See, they're supposed to be able to speak Valyrian. Failing to do so carries with it a sense of shame that isn't present for a random person who doesn't speak Valyrian. Aemond knows this. Aegon is annoying him, so he goes poking at that wound.

Aemond could have fed him a short line with an obvious answer to help Aegon out, but instead he threw a whole mess of Valyrian at him. The longer it goes on, the more lost Aegon gets, desperately trying to catch up and figure out what was just said and thereby missing what is being said at that instant. From the whole speech, Aegon probably only figured out that he was being asked a question, and it was something having to do with planning.

So, back to what he says. The beginning student of a language is quite adept at doing a single verb in a present tense sentence. In a discussion like this, though, you're typically saying things like "I think that" or "We should" or "I suggest" or "Perhaps we might", etc. All that stuff that we need to offer opinions, make suggestions, hedge, etc. Much more than simple narration.

Aegon is attempting to do this without a sufficient command of the language. He knows some vocabulary, he knows some grammar, but he simply did not put in the work to actually speak this language. Thus, he has to overcome a lot of Common Tongue (i.e. English) interference.

There are many differences between Valyrian and English, but the biggest one by far is the major word order. In English, the verbs come before the rest of the junk; in Valyrian, they come at the end. And this is how things get all messed up.

In English, you start the sentence saying things like "I think" or "We should" or "It seems". In Valyrian, those things come at the end. If you start with the Valyrian equivalent of "I think", you will quickly realize (presuming you know enough of the grammar) that you're sunk, because once you've said it, the sentence should be done. Thus you get Aegon's false starts.

Starting at the beginning, Aegon says Nyke koston, which is kind of like saying, "I could". But there's nowhere to go. This is how a sentence ends. For example, if he wanted to say, "I could fly to Harrenhal", he would say Harenhalot sōvegon koston—literally "To Harrenhal fly I could". If you're thinking English-ly, you're essentially thinking backwards, and if you simply translate what you're thinking, you'll immediately have nowhere to go. You'll have to take a pause and think about how to get started again. And that's exactly what happens here.

Now, leaving aside that Valyrian is a pro-drop language and starting it off with nyke "I" is unnecessary and makes you look like a beginner, koston isn't bad (I mean, if used sentence-finally). Once he realizes he can't start there, though, he loses confidence. It's those old High Valyrian lessons all over again, and some maester suggesting he hasn't studied. That self-doubt makes his facility with Valyrian worse. This means his chances of recovery are severely hampered.

But onward he presses, and he decides to say "We have to" or "I have to". Now, the problem here is in Valyrian that requires the verb bēvilagon. This verb isn't used in the usual way. Literally it means "to lie on". If you wanted to say "We must mobilize our dragons", you'd say Īlvī zaldrīzī mazannagon īlo bēvilza. That's literally "Our dragons to mobilize us it lies upon". The one who must do something is placed in the genitive and put directly before the verb. If you start with the verb, well, you missed your chance to say who it is that must be doing something—let alone what they must do. Another false start.

It's also worth noting that he says bēvilus as opposed to bēvilza. Let's ignore that it's the aorist and focus on the fact that it's the subjunctive (just like koston). You use the subjunctive with your main verb when you're hedging—when you're suggesting. Not when you're commanding. Kind of an odd thing to say "We must do this" with the subjunctive. Kind of like saying "Maybe we might considering having to do this".

At this point, his confidence has completely evaporated. Everybody's staring at him like he has no idea what he's talking about; Aemond's eating it up. He knows he's cooked. He's got to say something, though, so he says sētegon which isn't even conjugated. It means "to make" or "to create", which might make sense in English (e.g. "to make war"), but doesn't make sense in Valyrian (a bit like saying "to construct a war" or even "to bake a war") and then tries to pronounce vīlībāzmi "war" (wrong case/number, wrong order) and fails, saying bīlīvāzmi, which means nothing (also he wanted vīlībāzme. Vīlībāzmi is "wars").

Long story short, he doesn't present himself very well—and we didn't even talk about his general pronunciation or intonation. It's kind of a great big mess in only five words. A true disaster.

But if there were no expectation that he should be able to speak Valyrian, none of this would matter! If there were no shame associated with him specifically not being able to speak Valyrian no one would expect it of him, and this challenge would mean as little as someone challenging him to speak the Old Tongue or Asshai'i. It'd be meaningless.

In short, this small portion of this scene is about being a heritage speaker of a language. It's the exact nightmare scenario all heritage speakers fear: To be put on stage and made to perform despite being unequal to the task while simultaneously feeling that they should be equal to it.

It'd be so cool if it was okay to be kind of good with a language—if that level of mastery was acceptable. In the real world, anyway.

#conlang #language #valyrian #high valyrian #hbo #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond #aemond targaryen

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witchybitchycrybaby · 2 months

Text

Enemies in public, lovers in private

Davos Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader

Warnings: smut, it's basically porn without plot, suggestive language, fighting

Words: 3k

Also this is my first ever attempt at writing 18+ content, I hope I did well

✨✨✨

It was a perfect day for another traditional clash between Blackwoods and Brackens. It wasn't too hot nor cold, it didn't rain at all and the sun wasn't shining in their faces, hidden behind clouds.

Maybe it was hiding because it no longer wanted to see the unresolved conflict between the two houses.

The air was thick with tension and hatred at the boundary line. Davos Blackwood, with a handful of his men, stood at the edge of their territory, the Red Fork River murmuring softly nearby. Opposite them, you and your brother Aeron approached, flanked by a few Bracken soldiers.

Your eyes locked with Davos' brown ones with a mix of frustration and longing. That was the only way you could communicate something more than insults without anyone paying attention to you. You blinked quickly, hiding every one of your feelings behind a cold, resentful mask.

"Blackwood," Aeron sneered, his voice, though a little bit unsure, was dripping with disdain he didn't even try to disguise. He then looked the dark haired boy up and down. "What brings you to our lands? Lost your way like a stray dog?"

Davis gritted his teeth at the insult. He took one step closer to where the bracken stood. “Just making sure you craven lot aren’t overstepping your boundaries, Bracken. Your family has a knack for moving boundary stones.”

"Funny thing, Blackwood," you barked back, his name a stinging venom on your tongue. "We were just discussing how often those stones seem to wander towards our side. Must be the wind, perhaps, or the dragons. Surely, you wouldn't have any share in that, would you?"

One of the Blackwood men, until now staying a pace behind Davos, took a step forward and looked at you with so much hate and anger you had to suppress a shiver. You stood still however; you would rather die than cower before them.

"Careful, you Bracken wench. Watch your tongue before we cut it out."

Before anyone could react, Aeron's face twisted with fury, and he drew his sword. His grip was however a bit uncertain. You really appreciated this, his want to always protect you. He was the more delicate one among the two of you, not suited for battle. And yet, he was very stubborn to prove himself.

You saw the way Davos' jaw tightened as his fingers gripped the hilt of his sword. Davos Blackwood instantly unsheathed his weapon, eyes trained on the blond boy. "Looks like little Bracken is shaking in his boots. Did your sister drag you out here to play knight?"

"I've got more honor in my little finger than you have in your entire body, Blackwood."

Davos stepped closer, his eyes darkening. "Honor? You wouldn't know honor even if it bit you."

With a war cry on his lips Aeron lunged at the Blackwood boy. The metallic sound of the sword struck the otherwise quiet air like a thunder. The clang of steel against steel echoed through the trees as they clashed with a fury borne of centuries-old hatred. Their hits were brutal and fast; their movements swift and well-practiced. You watched, your heart aching with every strike, knowing you had to play your part.

The fight was intense but brief. Both men landed a few cuts, blood staining their clothes but nothing fatal. As Davos prepared for another strike, you decided you were fed up with this fight and stormed between them, your eyes blazing with anger. You put a hold on both of their arms, stopping them from doing something they would later regret.

"Stop this, both of you, or I’ll take my sword and kill you myself,” you said with ice in your voice. Your gaze wandered from one boy to the other.

They both well knew you could and would do it; you weren't the one to make empty promises. They could play their little war all they wanted, but not on your watch. You'd faster claim a dragon than let them kill themselves over some stupid boundary stones.

Your grip on their arms remained strong until both of them lowered their swords. You could feel Davos' muscles twitching beneath your touch. He huffed with anger and wrenched himself from your grasp.

For a brief moment, Davos' eyes softened as he looked at you, but he quickly masked it with a scowl. "Listen to your little cunt of a sister, Bracken. Fuck off to your side of the river.”

As he walked away to his men, you tugged at your brother and pulled him to yours. He would bitch about it later, you knew it. But oh well, you'd take it.

Aeron glared at you enraged and also pulled his arm away from you. "What are you doing, (y/n)? They deserve to be taught a lesson."

"And you'll be the one to learn it if you don't back down," you retorted, your hand closing to the hilt of your own sword. "This pathetic Blackwood isn't worth the blood on your blade."

His jaw tightened but he had enough sense in his head not to speak.

You heard Davos sheathing his sword so you turned to him. There was a small cut on his cheek and your heartbeat quickened. He wiped the blood with the back of his hand and stared right into your eyes. You lifted your chin just a little and crossed your arms.

"Tell your men to stop moving the boundary stones, and we won't have to keep coming here to correct your mistakes."

"Perhaps if your men had the integrity to keep to their own lands, we wouldn't have this problem."

A scoff came from one of the Bracken men. "You're saying you have integrity, Blackwood?"

Davos smirked, you practically could see the glint of craze in his eyes.

"It's not us who's always trying to take more than what’s ours.”

The Blackwood and Bracken men exchanged hostile glances, muttering curses under their breath. You balled your hands into fists, your knuckles white.

"Enough!" yelled Aeron. "We'll leave your precious stones alone if you do the same."

There was a moment of silence on the hill. You knew how much Davos loved those little battles between your houses and that no matter what he might now say will stop them.

Finally, Davos gave a mocking bow, his dark eyes flashed with something very opposite to the want of truce. "Fine. But don't think this is over, Blackwood."

Aeron nodded curtly. "Wouldn't dream of it."

With that, Davos Blackwood shot you a final glance and ordered his friends to retreat. There was promise in his eyes that only you could understand. You watched them go, your heart thudding in your chest. You played this meeting well, your love-hate relationship still sealed and hidden.

"Next time, dear sister," Aeron hissed. "I won't back down so easily."

You sighed when he moved away. Maybe you won't stop him next time. Maybe you should just let them kill themselves and they'd be rid of this callow feud.

As the Brackens turned back to their lands, your thoughts lingered on Davos. Your love was a dangerous game, one that could cost you everything. But for now, you had survived another day, your secret safe for a little longer.

~•~

The Mill stood at the edge of Blackwood and Bracken lands, silent and dark, shrouded in shadows. It wasn't precisely a mill anymore, truth be told. Nobody used it, so it stood empty and alone.

And it was just perfect for Davos and you. The Mill became your sanctuary, its walls one of a very few confidants of your love and late-night trysts.

Davos waited inside, not daring to light any candles for fear of drawing unwanted attention. His breath was steady, but his heart racing. He knew you'd come. You always did.

He fixed his eyes on the wooden door when he heard the soft and cautious footsteps. Your footsteps. You quietly slipped inside, the door creaking when you closed it behind yourself. You barely had time to turn around and properly look at him before he surged forward, and in seconds was on you, pushing you against the rough wall. You yelped in surprise, but it was quickly swallowed by Davos' hungry mouth when his lips crashed against yours in a hard, desperate kiss.

You instantly melted into him with a fervent response. Your hands threaded through his silken, dark locks, pulling him even closer. His hands roamed over your clothed body, caressing the curves of your waist and hips, which he knew so well.

Finally, you broke the kiss, panting heavily, both completely out of breath. There was a string of saliva connecting your lips. You leaned back, resting your head against the wall.

"Cunt?" You asked rising an eyebrow. "I thought you'd have some more sophisticated terms up your sleeve, Blackwood."

He laughed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "My apologies. Had to keep up the appearances." he murmured, his voice anything but apologetic. He pressed a kiss to the column of your neck, and you shivered. "Would you prefer 'Bracken witch' instead?"

Your eyes narrowed in mock-serious resentment, but your body betrayed you, arching towards him. "Bastard." You whispered with a smirk on your lips. Just like that, he was forgiven.

He'd kneel if you'd asked. He would beg, and he wouldn't find any trace of shame it that. Seven Hells, he'd crawl if that was what you wanted. He'd do everything without a second to lose, because you were his Brecken. His and nobody elses.

"And you love me anyway." He gave you one more peck on the lips and grasped your hand in his. He pulled you further into the Mill, towards the makeshift bed of hay and blankets. As you moved, he kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

"I've missed you," he whispered, his hands moving to the laces of your shirt. You could feel his impatient fingers grazing over your sternum and stomach. You sighed with contentment when the material slid from your shoulders and fell to the ground.

"I hate how much I've missed you too," you admitted, your hands clasping his shirt and pulling it over his head.

Davos attacked your lips with a new wave of desire, he kissed you like a man starved, and you were the sweetest of fruits. His hands slid down your waist to the lacing of your breeches and slipped them off. He picked you up, and you crossed your ankles behind his back. His body was so hot; in every place you touched, you felt fire.

He laid you gently on the blanket and quickly discarded his own breeches somewhere in the corner. He then climbed on top of you, careful not to put his whole body weight on you. You opened your legs to accommodate him and you gasped when his half-hard cock brushed against your inner thigh.

"I was a bit disappointed seeing you fight today, Blackwood. I've seen better fighting from children. Do you train with toddlers in Raventree Hall?"

"You vixen," Davos rasped and bit your lip and didn't let go until he tasted warm metallic liquid on his tongue. "My fighting is better than whatever pathetic excuse for training do Brackens do. I bet even a blindfolded squire could best you or your brother."

His lips wandered down your body, leaving open mouthed kisses in their wake. Down the column of your neck, to your collarbone, and to your breasts. He eagerly took one nipple in his mouth, teasing it into hard peak. He then continued his ministrations on the other one, all while you were a squirming and whining mess under him.

You threw your head back and dug your nails deep into his shoulders when Davos put his hand between your heated bodies. He was sure that the marks you'd leave would stay on his back for quite a while. His finger travelled between your folds and stopped right at your entrance. You pushed your hips to seek any type of friction but he just released your nipple with a soft pop and shook his head, a crazed smirk on his face.

"You know, Bracken," he whispered slowly, leaning above you, his face mere inches from yours. "I used 'cunt' on purpose. Because yours is just divine.

And with that he thrusted one of his digits inside you. You moaned, and all he wanted to do was freeze the time and capture the sound in a bottle. His perfect Bracken, all pretty and pliant for him. He could do whatever he wanted to you, and you'd let him. His ethereal lover.

You buckled your hips once more when he pulled and pushed two fingers. In and out, in and out. He could see the unshed tears on your lashes when his thumb started to tease your clit.

"Fuck-.Davos..." You whimpered. "You lousy teaser."

He captured your lips in his again, a low groan escaped from him when your soft, warm walls started to tighten around his fingers.

"You are so eager, my dear Bracken, so unsated. You will come on my fingers and then I'll fuck you stupid, I promise."

And it didn't take long. He kissed you until both of you were breathless, and whispered sweet nothings into your ear; whispered how good you were for him, how good you were taking him, heaven-sent just for him to have and take care of. He pushed his fingers and continued his assault oh your clit until your legs started shaking. Your back arched into him, and with his name on your lips, you climaxed. And even after that, he didn't stop because that's what he was there for. To make you happy, to worship you, your body and the ground you walked on.

You panted when he removed his fingers and brought them to his lips. You watched as his tongue darted around them, licking up your juices.

"You will be the death of me, Blackwood," you moaned and kissed him hard. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it made your head spin. You locked your ankles behind his back to keep him in place. As if Davos would rather be anywhere else than right here.

"Will you give me another one?" He asked and positioned his cock right at your entrance. You shivered some more when you felt his already leaking tip tease and push at you. "Will you," he pushed more until he was inside your warmth. "be a good girl to me?"

You writhed beneath him and it made him swell with pride. He made that. He was responsible for this state you were in. His sweet, sweet girl.

"If you don't put it in right now, I'll do it," you blurted.

"As the lady commands." He grinned at you and bottomed out in one smooth thrust.

He groaned at the feeling and hid his face in the crook of your neck. He needed a moment to compose himself and not come right away. You were so warm and tight, he truly didn't mind dying like that, inside of you.

You gasped for air and looped your arms around his neck. One of your hands tangled into his hair, your nails scratching his scalp. Did you know how much he loved you? Did you know that he would kill for you? Gods, he would start a war in your name, all you had to do was ask.

Davos tightened his jaw and rolled his hips just a little. Both of you moaned in unison. You didn't believe in heaven or hell, but you sure knew that heaven was right here, with him between your legs and inside you.

"You chicken out, Blackwood? Are you just gonna lie there and look pretty, or will you move already?"

"I should've put this mouth of yours to a better use," he muttered but did as he was told. He pulled out almost completely and then thrust back in. Hard. You yelped and cried out in pleasure.

He did it again. And again. And again. It was a torturous tempo, and everything in him screamed to be faster and claim you already. But you were a brat today, a spoiled brat, and he wanted to punish you for it. Yet, your sweet mewling and moaning made him grit his teeth and go faster.

He placed his hands in the bend of your legs and brought them to your chest to give himself even better access to your pulsating core. You were so beautiful like this, so hauntingly beautiful he could cry. His Bracken, his, his, his and he accentuated it with each deep thrust he made.

You moved together, your tempo more erratic with each push. The world outside the walls of the Mill stopped existing; there were no more lands, no more Blackwoods and no more Brackens. There were just you and your desire.

Davos knew he wouldn't last much longer, and neither would you. He left open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck and collarbones until he felt the climax building up within himself. He could feel it in you too by how your walls were tightening around him. You had this serene, fucked-out expression on your face, your eyes glassy. And it tipped him over the edge.

You came together. His milky spent filled your insides, some starting to leak out as soon as he pulled out and turned around to lie on his back beside you. Your bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat, the smell of sex filling the air.

You panted heavily for a while, and then Davos pulled you on top of him, your hair pooling around you two. You placed your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

You then pulled yourself up and leaned on your elbows. Your smile was sated when you looked into his eyes, but it faltered when your gaze fell on the cut on his cheek. You gently traced it with your fingers.

"Does it hurt?" You asked softly.

But he just turned his head and kissed your wrist. "It's not bad. Blackwoods are tougher than Brackens, I assure you."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Stubborn as mules, more like."

"Maybe," he replied and caressed your cheek. "But we know what we want."

"And what do you want, Davos Blackwood?" You whispered leaning into his touch.

"You, (y/n) Bracken. Always you."

#english is not my first language #davos blackwood #aeron bracken #davos blackwood x reader #davos blackwood x you #x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #davos blackwood smut #hotd smut #benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood x reader

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