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myfandomprompts · 2 years

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𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

Warning: Angst, spoiler for episode 10 (I promise there will be more Aemond after this chapter) (Part 1 - Part 3) Masterlist

Summary : You are content in Dragonstone, until the news of the King's death reaches the Fortress. You have no allies, and so you go to the only place where you don't expect to find him.

You were happy at Dragonstone. You were absolutely delighted by Rhaenyra's children, both old and young. The babes were incredibly sweet with everyone, and you felt the loving family radiating inside the castle walls, love that you did not feel in the Red Keep.

Jacaerys and Lucerys were both quite busy but they still found time for you, inviting you to some of their activities, tending to their dragons… You were intimidated by both Rhaenyra and Daemon, but it passed quickly as you remembered how considerate Rhaenyra was, and how much the Rogue Prince liked a good joke. The only thing unplanned was the length of your stay. You've been in Dragonstone for far longer than you and your father had intended, not for the displeasure of Ser Lorent Marbrand who was your only close family inside the great walls of the fortress. You had asked several months ago to extend your journey, and everybody had agreed. You missed your family a bit, Helaena and your friends, but you were dreading your return. The return to him.

You shivered from your thoughts as you entered the great hall. You had just come back from the library down one of the towers, having finished studying healing properties of seaweeds when you heard that the Princess Rhaenys had just landed in Dragonstone by one of the guards. You stumbled upon some lords and Daemon all standing around the table as you advanced further into the hall. Feeling like you were not in your place, you tried to sneak away as graciously as possible, maybe go to the beach where you knew the princes were sparring, but a horrifying scream froze you into place.

You rushed toward the screams, crossing the room and not bothering about what the Rogue Prince and the lords there might think. You found Rhaenyra in agonising pain, clutching her belly, maids feet away from her, as lost for what to do.

You ran to her, trying to steady her, "Princess, what happened? Why is this happening?" You knew it was too early for the labour to begin.

"King Viserys, my father, is dead," she announced through gritted teeth when she was able to look at you properly. You froze as she grabbed your arm for support. She cried of pain once more before keeping on. "Prince Aegon has been crowned today. In the Dragonpit."

You said nothing as images went through your head. The grief of the Queen, Aegon with a crown on his head before the people, swinging his sword above his head... His grandfather, protector and wife at his side, as well as Aemond.

Aemond who always found Aegon not fitted for the throne, but supported him nonetheless. Aemond who was fierce, wiser and more willing to be crowned, but always took his duty as the second son to heart, no matter his opinion on the matter. Aemond, who rose higher and higher as the years passed, surpassing his brother in everything aside from debauchery. Aemond, who was certainly standing at his side as his brother was crowned king, standing tall with his usual stance, arms behind his back, eye scanning the room.

You were not feeling well. All of the implications of such an event dawning on you. You were separated from your family, and you had no idea what would happen to them, as they have always been loyal to King Viserys, and always found Otto Hightower manipulative enough to achieve his dark schemes. And there you were, with the true heir to the throne giving birth month too early, and no means of action.

The new Black Queen gave birth to a stillborn, and was crowned during its funeral. All went fast. Lords were demanding war as Rhaenyra tried to slow them down, preferring diplomacy. When her sons volunteered to be messengers for the lords who had pledged loyalty to her, including Lord Borros Baratheon, you couldn't help but intervene. The Baratheons were some of your kin, your aunt married one of their lords and have lived in Storm's End ever since. So you required of the Queen to be sent there with Lucerys to be mainly an asset in the negotiation, but also because you wanted to be with your family in order to better step out of this fight. You wouldn't do anything until you had news of your father. Ser Lorent, ever protective of you, did not succeed in changing your mind.

You learned that you were to fly on dragon back, and you weren't enchanted per say. You enjoyed flying, but the only dragon you have ever ridden was Vhagar, and there was much more room than Arrax offered. However, you arrived in Storm's End several hours later.

"It is best if I enter alone," Lucerys said at first. You wanted to argue but a roar echoed through the courtyard. You turned and saw Vhagar lifting her head above the walls. You swallowed.

He was here.

Part of you wanted to run into the hall, hoping he'd be right there, but the other part of you feared the moment you would see him. You could not allow yourself to give up all the hard work you had done while you were away from him. Not at a moment of such crisis. Your head told you to stay put, but your heart was longing for just a sight of him, a glance, a word.

You stayed outside as the rain started to pour and Lucerys entered the hall. Vhagar seems to recognise you from afar, as Arrax became more and more agitated. You tried to soothe him but you weren't his rider and failed to even approach him. You took shelter under the porch when the rain started to blur your vision. After a while, the doors opened again, the guards revealing a Lucerys as agitated as his dragon. You struggled to hear him above the loud thunderstorm.

"Y/N, you must stay! Find your aunt, I must warn my mother as soon as possible, it's-," he quickly looked at the doors behind him, tension emanated in waves from him, and you were starting to be scared. You wanted to know if he had seen Aemond, though you felt like you already knew the answer.

"It's too dangerous on dragon-back!" he continued over the rain, "I'll come back for you, meanwhile, if you have affection for my family, please try to convince Lord Borros to take our side!"

You wanted to argue once more. Too dangerous on dragon-back? You just arrived this way, why not depart the same way? He feared something, and you felt it. But how long will he be gone? What had happened?

However, your wishes were becoming true: you were exactly where you wanted, you had the opportunity to stay away from the halls of Dragonstone where battle strategies were surely planned, as well as away from the halls of the Red Keep. Your desire to step away from the boiling conflict achieved. Although it seems here, in Storm's End, you were running toward another diplomatic disaster.

Lucerys hugged you briefly, at your own surprise. You reciprocated his affection before watching him speaking to Arrax and mounting him, flying away with haste. You looked over the wall. Vhagar was invisible to you now. Was Aemond gone too, or was it just too blurry for you to see?

You announced yourself, and the guard let you in. Lord Borros was surprised by your presence. You thought it best to exclude the fact that you came with Lucerys at first, because if you were right, the meeting between the Prince and Lord Baratheon did not go well. If you were to appear as a guest and not demand alliances away, it would be smarter. So you settled to only ask to see your kin.

At first, you dodged the questions of your arrival with ability, but when your aunt arrived you were finally able to relax. You learned that Lord Borros has refused Lucerys' demand to honour the oath his father made to the Black Queen, and that shortly after, Prince Aemond, who had arrived the day before, had demanded his eye in return for the harm he caused him all those years ago. You were expecting to see him appear in the hall at any moment, but you were told he left. To chase the younger Prince.

Panic took you at that announcement. You barely managed to admit that it was Lucerys that brought you here with the calm demanded of your position, and finally you were able to take your leave. Your aunt was glad to see you, but looked very worried. But it didn't matter. You wanted to rush outside and scream into the storm for Aemond to return, not to harm his nephew.

You were useless, dragon-less.

Hours passed. You were settling in your aunt's apartments, tormented, the storm still raging outside. You thought you heard a roar several times over the raging sea, but you saw nothing from the window of your tower.

Then you heard it, a thud over the storm. Vhagar had landed. You rushed out of the room, and started to descend the many stairs that led to the great hall. You barged in. Aemond was standing there, soaking wet, head down, facing Lord Borros still seated on his throne.

"What happened out there, boy? What did you do?" he demanded.

Aemond was still staring at the floor, his expression was unreadable, but not for you. He didn't have his usual smirk, his eye weren't focused on his surroundings. You haven't seen him like this, ever. You dreaded what he would say next. You didn't want to hear it.

When the Prince looked up at the Lord on his throne, he let the silence linger a while longer before talking, "Lucerys Velaryon is dead. Slain by Vhagar."

The room went silent, and the world twirled before your eyes. Seconds later you were on your knees, clutching your chest for air, as cries of despair escaped you as well as a flow of tears.

"No!" You didn't hear yourself scream, but at that he finally saw you. You were there, on the floor, still wet from the weather, now surrounded by ladies of the court who tried to steady you. What in the seven hells were you doing there? You couldn't be, not now, not after what he had done.

His legs instantly moved toward you, he wanted to reach you, to touch you, "You murdered your own kin?" Lord Baratheon roared.

He stopped in his steps at the question, still too far from you for his taste. His heart was heavy. He didn't look away from you as he answered, "I searched for his remains, in vain," He was not sure if you were able to follow anything that was happening around you now, but his words were meant for you. "I never intended for it to happen. It was an accident."

The rooms filled with whispers, and after a deep breath, Lord Borros announced; "You are still our guest, my Prince. I expect you to honour the promise you made to me and my daughter, and my loyalty shall not falter."

You struggled to open your eyes, you had no idea of how much time had passed since you collapsed. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? When you came to yourself, you were still in the hall, people of the court looking at you and Aemond much closer than he was before. You didn't hear anything that was said, and the ladies around you finally managed to make you stand, your aunt among them, worry written all over her face.

The room was dismissed, your aunt immediately advised you to rest in her apartments, and Aemond who finally had the opportunity to come toward you, was afraid that you would once more escape away from him.

And indeed you were faster. Ignoring your aunt, you freed yourself from the hands keeping you steady and rushed for the door, to the rain. You needed air, and your heavy breathing didn't help calm yourself. He wanted to protect you, that is why he didn't take you on Arrax. And now he was dead. Because of Aemond, because of the man you always wanted.

You felt dirty, empty, and the pouring rain was hurting your skin. You felt something on your arm, almost like a caress, a hand grabbed your elbow for you to turn around. Silver hair entered your vision and you saw an eye watch you with worry. You escaped from his hold at once, and the next thing you knew, you had slapped him.

He didn't say anything at first, slowly looked back down at you with a lazy eye. His silence was louder than the storm above your head and it annoyed you. It annoyed you and you were angry. So you began hitting his chest with your fists, repeatedly, weakly, almost screaming in rage. He didn't flinch, he let you harm him for a moment, eye boring into you before clasping your hands into his, putting a stop to your doings. You struggled, begging him to let you go, but he didn't. He pulled you close, waiting for you to calm down, to be still.

"You killed him... Your own nephew," you cried. "How could you...?"

He just stared at you, sadness filling his eye; "I never meant for it to happen," he stated.

You watched him, taken aback. He looked sincere. Or were you still this weak?

"Nevertheless, he is gone. Onlt the Gods know where he lies. And you didn't want this? I've been told you demanded his eye, I see you settled for far more," you said bitterly.

"What is done is done!" he said, angry now. "My mistake can never be redeemed as his own never was. My only solace is in the fact that I did not want this, Y/N," he shook your arms as he continued; "I don't care what is said about me now, but I never wanted for you to be in pain."

You barely held a sneer from escaping your lips; "This is all that matters to you? My pain? Then you should have thought of this years ago, before you-"

"You abandoned me!"

A loud thunder came at the same time. You were silenced by his words, your ears ringing from the pain. You were exhausted.

He took a deep breath and his voice became firm.

"You abandoned me. How long were you planning to stay away in that damn fortress? Months? Years? All of your life? The very castle I could not set foot into, and you never returned. Ravens forgotten, friends as well," he talked louder now, "Do you know how many times I thought about flying there to steal you away? You had no right, no right to go away like this. The thought of you, happy, away across the black water bay made me-," he stopped himself, and the next moment he softened your grasp on you, as his shoulders relaxed.

"Now it's different. You are to return to the Red Keep, with me. Your father misses you, it is long due you take your rightful place," he continued coldly, like he hasn't snapped moments before.

You watched him with narrowed eyes, tears still coming down on your cheeks. You saw his eye look at your lips briefly, then back at your eyes. Even if you were momentarily taken aback by the movement, you let nothing appear as you slowly manage to free yourself from him. You gave him one last look, lifted your dress up and walked away. You needed to be alone, where he wouldn't be.

-0- Part 3

@let-love-bleeds-red @crazylokonugget

#aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #fanfiction #oc #aemond x original character #aemond one eye #house of the dragon #imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #romance #house targaryen #aemond kinslayer #ywawm #mygif #aemond 1x10 #usermyfandomprompts #hotdedit

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melzula · 4 years

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A New Battle Begins

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

notes: requested by anon

summary: Now that the war is over, Zuko and the Princess can finally live a life of peace together. Or so they think...

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

“Careful now, you don’t want to hurt yourself,” you chide gently as you help guide Zuko’s arms through the sleeves of his robe before neatly tying the sash around his waist. His wound is still tender from Azula’s lightning strike and limits most of his movements, so he’s grateful for your help in his preparation for the coronation. You work precisely and gracefully with no error and no faltering despite the hindrance of your freshly bandaged hands, and though the room is quiet a sense of calm and peacefulness washes over Zuko at your mere comforting presence. Today he will be crowned Fire Lord, and you will be right by his side just like you have been since you were children— Zuko couldn’t ask for anything more than that.

“Thank you for your help,” he says with a grateful smile. “I can’t imagine doing this without you.”

“We’ve come a long way,” you note thoughtfully, “and there’s no place I’d rather be than right here with you in this very moment.”

With the final piece of his wardrobe secured to his body, Zuko takes it upon himself to tie his top knot— you still haven’t quite mastered the hairstyle yet— and complete his Fire Lord ensemble. You smile fondly at the sight of him, leaning forward to grace his lips with a sweet kiss.

“You make a handsome Fire Lord.”

“And one day you’ll make a beautiful Fire Lady,” Zuko counters with a small smirk, one that sends you into an embarrassed fit of giggles.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, mister,” you say with a laugh. “I’m going to join the others out in the courtyard. I’ll see you shortly.”

You bid your love goodbye with a chaste kiss to the cheek before excusing yourself from his presence and making your way back outside. The palace is empty other than the few guards that line the hallways, and you have to remind yourself that they aren’t your enemies any longer. With Zuko on the throne and your status as his girlfriend no one will lay a single finger on you while you are here, especially not with your title as Princess of the Southern Water Tribe. It will take some time to break your habit of immediately going on the defensive in the presence of Fire Nation soldiers, but you have faith that Zuko and Aang will be able to restore balance to the world.

Your path to the outside is suddenly blocked by a woman who stands at the very end of the hall and gazes thoughtfully out the grand window before her. Her hair is graying but the lines that worry her face are kind and familiar. Seemingly sensing your presence, she turns to you with a tired smile, one you recognize immediately despite the many years you’ve spent away from home.

“Mother,” you murmur quietly, eyes welling with tears and breath catching in your throat at the sight of her.

“You’ve grown so much I almost didn’t recognize you,” she replies with a teasing tone. Her arms open to you then, warm and inviting, and with a small sob you gather the skirt of your dress before sprinting towards her.

“Mother!” You cry, melting into her bone crushing embrace as you weep into the fabric of her coat. “I can’t believe it’s you! How- What are you doing here?”

“The Fire Prince sent a messenger hawk to tell me of your bravery and requested my presence in the Fire Nation immediately,” she explains before carefully taking your hands in her own and assessing the bandages wrapped neatly around your wrists and extending all the way to your fingertips. It’s only one layer and it’s mostly just for protection, but it’s obvious that extensive damage has been done to your skin. “Does it hurt?”

“No. The healing took away the pain, but the scars will stay forever.”

“My brave girl,” your mother coos with a tearful smile, hand resting upon your cheek and cupping your face. “Your father would be so proud.”

“Thank you, mom,” you reply. A single tear slides down your cheek but you’re quick to brush it away before it can ruin your ceremonial makeup. “But if I’m being honest, I thought you’d be angry with me... I was afraid when I came back home you’d want nothing to do with me.”

“I was heartbroken when you left,” she admits thoughtfully, “you were my only child and I feared for your safety. I thought of you every day, and when I heard the news of your father’s death I worried that one day I might get the same news about you.”

You look closely at your mother as she explains, appreciating the details of her face and the change of her features. She wasn’t very old, but your absence and your father’s passing weighed heavily upon her through the lines on her skin. She was strong, but she’d also been through a lot these last couple of years, managing her grief while trying to run an entire tribe on her own. You could only hope to be as great of a leader as she was.

“But instead I received news of your bravery, your compassion, and your courage. I couldn’t be more proud to call you my daughter, y/n, and I can’t wait to see what you do next.”

She pulls you into yet another embrace before joining you out in the courtyard to meet your friends, and for the first time in a long time all is right in the world.

~~~

Zuko’s coronation goes off without a hitch, and after successfully establishing the plans for the Harmony Restoration Movement with King Kuei you and your friends decide to visit the Jasmine Dragon to celebrate before the announcement. It’s your last night away from home, and though you’re reluctant to say goodbye to Zuko and your friends you know you’re needed back in the south. You’ve been away for too long, and the Southern Water Tribe is in desperate need of a ruler. With your father gone and your mother growing older it will only be a matter of time before the tribe is left in your hands, so there’s no better time than now to start leaning how to lead.

“Your tsungi horn playing is beautiful as always, Uncle,” you compliment Iroh as Zuko sets your tea before you. He gifts you a chaste kiss to the cheek in passing, an act that has you shyly hiding your smile behind your cup and taking a drink of the jasmine taste you’ve missed so dearly. The last time you’d been in Ba Sing Se you were living under a false identity, settling down into your new life with a reluctant Zuko and trying to start anew. There had been obstacles of course, from the encounters with your midnight stranger to Zuko’s inevitable betrayal down in the crystal caves, but you don’t wish to take any of it back for a second. Because otherwise you wouldn’t be here now, surrounded by your friends as you critique Sokka’s drawing.

“You know the burns are only on my hands and not the rest of me, right?” You ask, pointing out the scars that weave around your arms like vines in the drawing.

“Yeah, but this makes you look cooler!” Sokka defends.

“Well I think you all look perfect,” Toph compliments enthusiastically, and you can’t help but laugh at yet another one of her blind jokes. You’ll miss those once you get back home.

The celebration will be starting soon, and so you join your friends on the back of Appa to fly through the skies and enjoy your time together before the night can end. You sit in the back with Suki who carefully adjusts the flowers in your hair and distracts you from the serious conversation Zuko holds with Aang.

“Are you excited to go back home?”

“Very, but I am going to miss you guys. I’ve spent a whole year with you all, it’ll be so strange being without you.”

“I’m sure we can visit you,” Suki suggests. “And don’t you have that tunnel thing with Zuko?”

“Yeah, we have a tunnel thing,” you nod, a faint smile playing upon your lips. A part of you is excited to see the tunnel again just because it’s been so long, and really it was probably the pivotal force on which your journey began. “I hope my people will be happy to see me.”

“They will. You are the Princess, after all.”

You don’t get to talk any further about the subject before brilliant bursts of fireworks begin to explode in the sky. They’re breathtaking, and by the looks of the crowd down below the Earth King has just announced the harmony restoration movement. Huddling close to Suki, you stare up at the display in awe and with a bittersweet sense of joy. Someone clears their throat from beside you, and both you and Suki turn to see Zuko smiling sheepishly at your pair.

“Mind if I steal my girlfriend away from you for a bit?”

“Not at all,” Suki smiles knowingly before scooting over and allowing you and Zuko some space to yourselves. His arm easily wraps around your frame and pulls you into his side, and already you can feel his warmth beginning to encompass you as you rest your head upon his shoulder.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” You murmur in quiet appreciation for the fireworks.

“It is,” Zuko agrees with a faint smile. You’re too engrossed to notice the uneasiness in his tone, but he doesn’t want you to anyway. If you were to find out about the promise Aang had sworn to you’d surely delay your return home just to try and talk him out of it, and Zuko couldn’t have the Princess of the Southern Water Tribe missing on his behalf.

(At least not again.)

Besides, he’d made up his mind and he didn’t plan on changing it any time soon.

He hopes it’ll never come down to that, so for now Zuko is simply content with holding you close and enjoying your last peaceful night together in Ba Sing Se.

Spirits know it will be quite some time before you ever share a night like this again.

~~~

It’s strange being back home. Everything is so... different. Your tribe had dwindled significantly in number what with the casualties of the war, and the smaller villages that resided outside of the palace walls had been reduced to practically nothing. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you as you walked off the ship alongside your mother, could hear their gossiping whispers about how much you’d changed and if you were back for good this time, and it made you anxious. You reach for a hand that isn’t there and have to remind yourself that you’re on your own now. Sokka, Zuko, and Suki are no longer around to provide you comfort, so you’ll have to rely on your own inner strength to make it through the day.

“Princess,” a snide voice you’re all too familiar with calls from front steps of the palace. “It is so wonderful to have you home again.”

“Thank you, Advisor Koa,” you reply calmly, bowing in respect to the man but never once pulling your gaze from him. The smirk that plays upon his lips has you fuming but you keep your emotions at bay and remain cordial.

Koa was your father’s most trusted advisor, but you yourself never found him to be very trust worthy. His eyes were always shifty and there was something in the way he carried himself that made it seem as if he had a big secret to hide. The way he talked to your father always came off aggressive and scheming, yet the chief said nothing. As unbearable as Koa could be, he had a bright mind and skillful war tactics, so he stayed in his position of power beneath the royal family. You were meant to marry his son Kai but had ran off with Zuko before the marriage could take place, and you were sure Koa must be bitter about the fact that he hadn’t managed to marry his way into your family.

“Did you enjoy your time galavanting with the Fire Prince while the rest of your tribe was left to fend for themselves in the result of your absence?”

“I helped the Avatar bring balance to the world which is more than you can say, Koa. Need I remind you you were the only man who chose to say behind during the war?” You snap back harshly, holding back a triumphant smirk at the man’s obvious annoyance with your insult. Two can play at that game.

“Always a joy,” he mutters with an insincere grin.

“Now if you’ll excuse me I have a tribe to run,” you say, but before you can even take a step towards the palace Koa is blocking your path.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. You see, the Southern Water Tribe already has a leader: me.”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” You retort harshly, features falling at the guilty look that forms on your mother’s face. “What is he talking about?”

“I couldn’t run an entire tribe by myself,” she admits desperately, pleading for you to understand. “With you and your father gone I had no choice but to accept Koa’s offer to stand in as Chief until one of you returned.”

“Well I have returned, and as the rightful heir of this tribe I am ordering you to step down!” You demand pointedly, blood boiling at the laugh that leaves Koa in response.

“You’re absolutely adorable,” he coos condescendingly, pinching your cheek before you harshly yank yourself away from his grasp. “Do you really think a little girl is capable of ruling?”

“I’m a water bending master and I helped the Avatar defeat the Fire Lord and end the war! I am not a little girl!”

“You were selfish and ran away from your duties. You left your people in their time of need. You’re lucky you were even allowed back here considering the treachery you’ve partaken in against the Southern Water Tribe.”

“Koa,” your mother interrupts timidly. “I may have put you in charge but I will not allow you to speak to my daughter that way.”

“My apologies, your highness,” Koa utters respectfully before returning his attention to you. A snide smile rests upon his lips. “It really was so lovely to see you again, Princess y/n.”

“Mother, you can’t-“

“Not now,” she consoles quietly, watching his triumphantly retreating form disappear behind the palace doors before glancing around at the small crowd that had gathered to observe the dispute. “If you want to get the throne back you can’t act irrationally.”

Your once hardened features slowly soften as you let out a defeated sigh, collapsing into the comforting embrace of your mother.

Restoring balance to the world hadn’t been enough to save face with your people, and now you found yourself entangled in a whole new fight. With your friends gone and your father unable to help you win the crown what were you to do?

So much for home sweet home...

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#had to repost bc of tech issues #oopsie #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #zuko and the princess #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine #fire lilies

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elerondo · 3 years

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Headcanon | Rivendell and Celebrian

This headcanon is set in the timeline from S.A. 1697 to T.A. 2501, so it’s going to be very long. It is my attempt at the fullest account of Elrond’s priorities in that timeline, and his life and marriage to Celebrian. And the After.

PRELUDE After the initial crush that Elrond had on Celebrian, Elrond did wait more than 1700 years before proposing to her. Elrond did not want to subject her to a life of war and hardship with him when they’d only just met. Elrond loved Celebrian enough to let her go home to safety and a more peaceful life. But Elrond loved Middle Earth more, that he would sacrifice his personal happiness in order to protect and save the free peoples.

The dire costs of the War of the Elves and Sauron were echoes of the War of Wrath, where Elrond had seen the wrath of the dragons as a youth and the trumpets that eventually marred and sunk Beleriand. He was determined not to let Eriador reach that stage of destruction, and since few of the strangers in the Valley were well enough to engage in battle, Elrond was frequently at the helm of offensive measures against the forces of Sauron that sought to besiege Rivendell.

POST WAR OF THE ELVES AND SAURON When Rivendell was founded, it was basically filled with refugees and soldiers gravely wounded from the destruction of Eregion and Sauron’s conquest of Eriador. Simply put, Rivendell was functional at best, and a stinky shit hole of armour and blood at its worst. A stronghold with severely weakened military power. There was no Ring of Power to protect it yet, so Elrond took it upon himself to ride out and meet evil before it could come near. Frequently, he rode from the northern foothills of the Hithaeglir, to the south bordering the outskirts of Eregion, then east across the valley to the ford of Bruinen, and even further still to penetrate the forests to the west.

Even though Elrond wanted to beautify Rivendell with other areas like education, hospitality, music, etc, it remained clear to Elrond that his immediate and most urgent priorities had to be taking vanguard in most marches as his elves and men were recovering, returning home, or sailing West.

After Vilya was handed to Elrond and he was made Lord and Master of Rivendell, Elrond was at the peak of his power and strength. Loyal and following the passions of a war won, the coverage of Vilya stretched from the Men-i-Naugrim to the Coldfells to the Last Bridge to the meet of Mitheithel and Bruinen. It matched his initial marches, patrols, and more. Elrond purified the forests and straightened the roads, dealing death to the last of the fell beings out of the Coldfells, the East Road, and the Old Forest Road. Strongholds were built upon the Misty Mountains and the borders of Eregion to keep watch on the southern and eastern passages. Where the Ring could reach, there Elrond’s spirit was, working its inner machinations to keep it safe.

FALL OF NUMENOR Elrond took his marches very far south to keep the borders and to exercise his Crown rights. He tripled the patrols around southern Eriador. If there were any stray survivors, they must be verified clean and without evil before they could travel. Otherwise, they were caught and handed to the nearest City willing to let them stand trial. When the presence of the Crown Prince of the Noldor increased near the borders of Gondor, there were quite many mixed reactions. A certain pressure to observe decorum, for example, to stop everything one was doing to answer questions, possessions checked thoroughly, and weapons that were deemed stolen or machines of darkness were confiscated until further notice. As long as one saw the banners of Gil-galad, even from a distance, they were compelled to stop and obey.

MARRIAGE TO CELEBRIAN Elrond is not a free and easy leader. He is a leader who actively chooses to sacrifice his happiness, his reputation, rest / sleep / food, for the sake of protecting and aiding the people at large. Elrond’s version of taking care of himself was stretched until his limits threatened to break, then rest for a while. It was the equivalent of sleeping once a week.

I think that Celebrian would have heard a lot about Elrond and what he was doing, Elrond’s fame and infamy spreading far and wide over the Misty Mountains. On the other side of the land, Elrond knew his deeds and renown were preceding him. He had some fears that he wouldn’t be well liked, because who could understand the land’s emergencies as well as him? He didn’t think anyone could, not because he was arrogant or wanted to do everything himself, but he was the most endowed.

Celebrian would be the only person Elrond could be weak to without being judged, rejected, or told to change or stop what he was doing. With her, Elrond was that bit more comfortable in taking / asking for comforts, and sharing his griefs, resentment, the nasty stuff and not just his plans, counsel, the good stuff that was always dispensed to all without cost. Celebrian was the shoulder Elrond cried on, while he was the shoulder for the world. Celebrian was the person whom Elrond revealed all of his quirks and eccentricity to. It was Celebrian who really made Rivendell into a Homely House. Celebrian was the one who helped him fulfil his visions and execute the blueprints of his mind while he properly focused on keeping Eriador and Rivendell safe. With her in mind, Elrond took more care of himself because he did not want her to be worried about him. Elrond was the healthiest in the 1000+ years before the Angmar War.

ANGMAR RISING The split and existence of Rhudaur in T.A. 861 unsettled him and so Elrond frequently visited Arthedain in secret, debating upon many topics of potential insurrection and defense strategies. The chief of the matter were these: Both Rhudaur and Cardolan desired to possess Amon Sul, and Rhudaur resisted Argeleb who claimed to be High King over all of Arnor. Elrond was sensitive to the matters of kingship and the Palantir. For the lands of Men and the Palantiri to come under one king was better than for them to split into the hands of the wrong people. Celebrian understood that for Elrond to ally Rivendell with Arthedain, hostilities with the rest would be inevitable.

( my Angmar war timeline here where Elrond suffered a Morgul-wound at the end of )

THE WATCHFUL PEACE … is a deceitful name. It was more watchful than it was peaceful.

Rivendell spent the early years recovering from the 600 year war, especially Elrond - being the first of all elves to suffer a Morgul-wound, a large scar on his back with no recovery method yet. Elrond had to devise and experiment on himself, while he was suffering from it, before he managed to heal himself. However, the military never again rises up to any relevant standard in a war. A lot of commanders were lost, Elrond was weak and sick, and many elves succumbed to their injuries, grief, and they faded or sailed West.

Every year for the rest of Elrond’s life in Middle Earth, on the same week, the Morgul-wound brought Elrond searing and debilitating pain. He still could hold the power of Vilya over The Angle and the Misty Mountains, but the western forests and Coldfells were neglected.

Rivendell never ceases to send patrols across Eriador, despite Elrond being in an extremely bad shape and the vale was desperately short handed. Elrond depended on Vilya more, both to heal and to protect, as he would leave Rivendell defenseless except for the Kingsguard, while he sent aid and resources everywhere else. Celebrian was beside him every step of the way, going into a Post-war scenario in a huge piece of land called Eriador again. They really could not enjoy the quieter times at all.

Furthermore, before the Watchful Peace ended, evil again invaded Eriador. It was followed by Galadriel’s summons of the White Council.

CELEBRIAN ASSAILED, DEPARTURE TO THE WEST 46 years later, tragedy ended the marriage of Celebrian and Elrond. He would be officially widowed with her passing over the Great Sea. The greatest healer who ever lived could not save his greatest love.

He let her go when she made her choice to go. He did not force to stay her, it would be too cruel to her. Elrond chose to do what was right instead of what was kinder to himself. When she left, she tore half his heart and flesh along with it.

This trauma is one that Elrond carries with him. The darkening of the times did work to twist his sacrifice into guilt, into thoughts of ❛What if❜ he was stronger, more powerful, better, or enough. Because of how obvious it was that Celebrian’s assault was premeditated by Sauron to weaken Rivendell, Elrond would always blame himself for bringing her into his life. Perhaps he should have just continued hiding his love. Perhaps she would have been safe. Perhaps.

In Elrond’s lowest moments, he could not understand what was so good about Valinor. He could not reconcile Celebrian’s choice of Aman over him and their 3 children together. For all his wars and battles in Middle Earth, no army ever came from the West to aid the people. He has no good perception of Aman. Over time, Celebrian’s departure joined one of many gravestones that Elrond had to force himself to move forward from. It was the only way, force himself not to dwell on it, bury himself in work, in the forge, in planning. For his children, for all the people who depended on him, for the sake of unseating Sauron, Elrond had to move forward even if it was by crawling through the mud.

His love for her did dull, did become mixed with depression, and he feared to see her again if he sailed to Aman. Elrond fears that Aman might actually be better for Celebrian than him. The dilemma? Wanting Celebrian to be happy and healthy, but wanting it to be him for her and no one else. Elrond knew the solution to that, and the answer was: Not him. It is a fact that is so hard to swallow at times, that he has to leave the love of his life in someone else’s hands.

#lord of the rings #lotr #elrond #celebrian #tolkien #the hobbit #✵ ʙᴏᴛʜ ɢʟᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏʀʀᴏᴡꜰᴜʟ — headcanon

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beansbeware · 3 years

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Beans’ Bagginshield Recs

Here it is! My first rec list eight years since I first started shipping Bagginshield. When this lockdown started (and ended and started again) I found myself re-reading OG/classics and discovering new ones. Sifting through my AO3 history I realized I have read and already forgotten so much fic over the years. For a while, I though the ship had run its course but as we can see now, Bagginshield lives! Check back for updates as I discover (and remember) more fics. Pay attention to the tags and trigger warnings!

I Sang In My Chains Like The Sea by orphan_account for lincesque, IronPanda

In which Bilbo is a Jaeger pilot candidate, and Middle Earth stands on the brink of destruction. (Pacific Rim AU) [Wasn’t sure how this one worked but man it did]

At the Turn of the Year by northerntrash

They say that strange things live in the woods, fair folk and things more spirit than man; don't step between the old oaks, parents mutter to their children, or they might find you, and eat you. Thorin never believed that, but now winter is settling into his bones, the shadows are growing longer through the hoar frost, and he is lost among the trees.

And it was there that Thorin met him, that strange, laughing creature, walking barefoot through the bracken.

Canon-ish

Homeward Bound by perkynurples for 61Below

His life slips away from him on an elven boat carrying him overseas, and there is one last journey Bilbo Baggins must take if he truly means to arrive home.

Sansûkh by determamfidd

The battle was over, and Thorin Oakenshield awoke, naked and shivering, in the Halls of his Ancestors.

The novelty of being dead fades quickly, and watching over his companions soon fills him with grief and guilt. Oddly, a faint flicker of hope arises in the form of his youngest kinsman, a Dwarf of Durin's line with bright red hair.

(Follows the story of the War of the Ring).

The Great Shire Conspiracy by Avelera for Emsiecat

Ten years later, Bilbo can't even go to the Green Dragon without a dwarven tourist buying him a beer and sobbing over Bilbo's great tragic love affair with Thorin Oakenshield. Which would all be quite touching and heartbreaking, if not for one little thing...

Dark (generally not a fan but this one made the cut)

Pain-Bearer by lilithiumwords (unfinished)

In an alternate reality, Erebor was never taken by Smaug, and the War of Dwarves and Orcs never happened. The Orcs invaded the Shire, slaughtering hundreds and taking countless more as slaves. Bilbo is slave to Azog, the Dwarf King's mortal enemy... until the Dwarf King rescues him.

Dwarves! in the Shire

Selling to Hobbits by HildyJ

Exiled from his kingdom and living on the mercy of others, Thorin is determined to make his own way in the world for him and his family. And the annual Summer Fair in Hobbiton sounds like the best place to sell enough of his crafted goods to do just that.

Oak and Mistletoe by HildyJ (series)

After a life dominated by a strange form of sickness, Thorin is sent to the Shire to seek a cure only Bilbo Baggins can offer.

Erebor - Nope, Never Fell

A Most Sensible Idea by HildyJ

Bilbo Baggins isn't sure about this. Not one bit.

Frodo is definitely too young to enter into an arranged marriage with a dwarven king called Thorin Oakenshield. It's a good thing that Bilbo is there to chaperone him through their courtship.

After all, there's no chance that a fussy hobbit bachelor would ever catch the eye of a king.

Signs and Meanings by HildyJ

It shouldn't matter to Thorin that the visiting hobbit cook doesn't speak his language. But it does.

Per Aspera by northerntrash

Deep in the dungeons of the Kingdom of Erebor, in an old, unused storeroom, lived a Hobbit.

In which Bilbo Baggins, a strangely successful thief, makes a mistake, and meets a Prince.

Erebor - Rebuilding

Mother-Tongue by northerntrash for HildyJ

Forget-me-not: a small flower, with four petals, which are normally found in shades of blue with a pink or white centre. These are traditional flowers of intent in the Shire, used to express true love, and remembrance.

In which Bilbo plans to leave Erebor, and Thorin tries to understand why.

Previous Engagements by Lunarflare14

After the Battle of Five Armies Thorin and Company have a new task: rebuilding their reclaimed home. Suddenly Bilbo finds himself up to his ears in responsibility and he surprises himself with how well he can navigate negotiations with elf dignitaries, farmers in Dale, and a dwarf king who has patience for neither.

But as Spring approaches a caravan from the Blue mountains brings something everyone had nearly forgotten: the dwarf woman Thorin promised his hand to many years ago.

Which is fine. It's all fine. It wasn't like Bilbo was falling in love with the king or anything.

That would be tragic.

And I'm Your Lionheart by Lee_Whimsy

Bilbo lingers in Erebor while Thorin recovers from his wounds, and soon finds himself caught up in politics, romance, and the occasional kidnapping. Ensemble cast. AU. Eventually Thorin/Bilbo.

Fix-Its (Gawd we need them)

An Expected Journey by MarieJacquelyn

For years Bilbo has written about his adventures and told stories about his dealings with dwarves and dragons. To most it seemed like fanciful nonsense but to Bilbo it was all very real. A weight followed him home from his travels, one called regret. Now in his final moments Bilbo has a choice to make – go quietly into death’s embrace or go back again and face all the fear and pain for the chance to make things right?

Of course, change is a fickle thing and not everything can be done again as Bilbo is about to find out. In the end, it may not only be salvation that he’s fighting for.

though the stars walk backward by baggvinshield, killaidanturner

Bilbo wakes, always in Erebor, with dark shadows to one side and the first light of a terrible dawn to the other.

An Expected Journey by MarieJacquelyn

Of course, change is a fickle thing and not everything can be done again as Bilbo is about to find out. In the end, it may not only be salvation that he’s fighting for.

Over Your Shoulder by northerntrash

The battle is over, and the lost have been counted. There is too much death, too much blood, and in the middle of it sits one small Hobbit, left quite alone but for a body on the ground and the memory of what might have been. But he is a tenacious creature, and if there is one thing that he has learnt, it is not to give up hope.

In which Bilbo Baggins goes on one last journey, and doesn't come back alone.

Historical Setting

The Ghost And Mr Baggins by perkynurples

They say that everything can be cured by saltwater - sweat, tears or the sea. Bilbo Baggins chooses the last option, taking his recently orphaned nephew and moving to the charming Oak Cottage, overlooking England’s grislier shores. The house charms him instantly, and though he knows nothing at all about the sea, or about making ends meet on his own so far from everything he’s known his whole life for that matter, he’s quite determined to stay, and see his nephew get better, odd sounds in the night be damned. He’s living in a modern world, after all, and the nonsense he’s been hearing about the house being haunted by its former owner, the mysterious Captain Durin, is just silly superstition… isn’t it?

Hobbit! Thorin

I've Grown a Hedge Around My Heart by pibroch (littleblackdog)

Thorin Brandybuck, just recently come of age, still lives in his family’s smial in Buckland, with his parents and two younger siblings. Thorin is an odd duck amongst his relations and neighbours-- unsociable, grumpy, shy, and awkward. And beyond that, he looks rather strange even for a Bucklander, strongly favouring the thick, dark haired build of his Stoorish blood.

It defies all sense and reason why Bilbo Baggins, an exemplar of all the respectable traits Thorin lacked, would ever desire a friendship with him.

Bilbo, as Thorin discovers, is not always as sensible as he appears.

Marriage (or something like it)

An Unexpected Proposal by Eareniel

As Bilbo sat smoking in his empty hobbit hole, he couldn’t help but wonder – when did his life become so boring? Or better yet – when did his old life stop being enough?

He suspected the answer to that question lay somewhere around the time when he had refused Thorin Oakenshield’s offer of marriage.

Something Blue by Lapin

Thorin marries Bilbo after the Battle of Five Armies, a marriage of convenience, not love. Slowly, they must come to make the best of it, Bilbo resolves. After all, he's a Hobbit. They make the best of things.

Magical/Super Powers

On Adventures and Other Forms of Conduct Unbecoming of a Wizard by manic_intent for beingevil

For as long as even the old Gaffer could remember there had been a wizard living in the hill at Bag End, overlooking the Shire. As wizards went, this one wasn't the wandering sort, always out to lure gentle folk out onto nasty adventures, or even the powerful kind, the sort that lived in high towers, reaching out into the ways of the world.

Modern Setting

Old Stone, New Fires by northerntrash

Bilbo was not sure what he had expected when he had agreed to supervise the restoration of Erebor House, on the lonely tidal island in the North sea, but it was not this. The winters up here are cold and harsh, and there is a strange feeling on the air, thick with the brine of the sea and secrets to which he is not privy; there is some part of the long and troubled history of the place that has not been spoken of, a shadow between the broken family gravestones and the caves beneath the cliffs, dark and dangerous.

Perhaps it is all in Bilbo’s mind, but as the nights grow longer, he starts to doubt it, and as Thorin sinks ever deeper into black and incalculable moods, he will have to find what has been lost, before it takes them all.

For This by northerntrash

Thorin Durin had lived in his new flat for approximately eighty four minutes when things started to go terribly, terribly wrong. The wrongness came in the form of a package, delivered to his door, wrapped in brown paper and string, with a small tag wishing him a very sincere welcome to the building.

Nothing Gold Can Stay by perkynurples

Bilbo Baggins led a rather peaceful life, thank you very much, until an old acquaintance decided to turn it upside down, and he found himself agreeing to take a job that’s… let’s say not exactly up his alley, and might eventually cost him a little more than his treasured cozy lifestyle. Who would have thought tutoring a slightly menacing monarch’s more than slightly overbearing nephew could prove to be such an adventure?

Love-In-Idleness by perkynurples

Taking Bilbo Baggins, a successful movie actor who is only just getting used to the perks and intricacies of becoming A Face People Want To See, and putting him together with Thorin Oakenshield, with his very traditional (read: slightly backwards) ideas about what constitutes Real Art and Real Talent, might very well be viewed as just some clothead’s idea of a joke. But there are jokes, and then there are carefully calculated risks the size of controversial reproductions of classic Shakespearean plays - for Bilbo, it is the chance of a lifetime to prove himself to all those who have ever deemed him too one-dimensional to even attempt stage, while Thorin has the opportunity to get out of the rut that’s been hindering his career for so long now, and shine in a role worthy of his talent once again. That is if the two learn how to share the same space for more than ten minutes without wanting to tear each other’s hair out. The course of true love never did run smooth, after all…

If There Were Water by stickman

Bilbo Baggins might be in over his head. He’s purchased an old stone house atop a hill overlooking a city he doesn’t know, and plans to live quietly, largely ignoring the rest of the world. But it’s early April, the rainy season, and the roof leaks, and there's something strange about Bywater House that he can't quite figure out.

Thorin Oakenshield is in his fourth month of trying to reconcile his own grief with his failures at anything remotely resembling a competent single parent, living out of a shoebox flat with Fíli (seven, sullen, and stubborn as hell) and Kíli (five, resilient but cracking), working crap jobs and hating everything including himself.

Under the cover of rainy afternoons and sleepless nights, roof repairs and building restoration, Bilbo and Thorin try to figure out how one navigates isolation, and how one breaks out of it. Every step they manage to take forward finds them dragged back again; every question asked has too many answers, or too few. This is a story about living in a world where everyone is on their own, always, and how things go on.

How the West Was Won and Where It Got Us by stickman

Bilbo is a harried 1st year British literature Ph.D. (early 20th century fiction) who happens to have an interest in spatial narrative structures, a lack of time-management skills, and a tiny apartment with a lot of books and very little furniture. He’s stressed, always, and doesn't quite know where he belongs. He tells himself that really, this is, in fact, what he wants to be doing. But sometimes, as much as he loves books, he gets an urge to do something with his hands.

Thorin is a disgruntled M.Arch. 1 in his last year who can’t be arsed to shave and frightens his students, and, frankly, his profs, but his work is top-notch so no one can really say much. They can, however, bully him into running a hands-on design workshop on Saturday mornings, which is complete crap, because he’s used to drinking his Friday nights into oblivion so showing up at Milstein at 7:45 the next morning and trying to teach in a room of wall-to-wall windows as the sun rises is not at the top of his list. Besides, no one ever shows up.

Except one morning, someone does.

The Boy You Met (At The Coin Laundry) by Lee_Whimsy

Bilbo accidentally spends a summer in Ireland. One rainy day, Thorin appears in the hotel laundry room, naked and dripping wet and about to propose. (But not, unfortunately, to Bilbo.)

Gandalf, Thranduil, and a handful of Spanish footballers all guest-star.

Hooked On You by Chamelaucium

Thorin should have learnt not to trust his brother and sister by now.

Come with us on holiday, they’d said. It’ll be fun, they’d said. A nice break from work.

Yeah right. All this holiday had brought him was being knocked around the head, acute hay-fever, and the biggest, most ridiculous crush ever on the cute, golden-haired fishing instructor.

One-Sided Conversations by northerntrash

"Thank you for listening," Thorin said, getting to his feet. "I hope to be able to return the favour, one day."

The man on the bed didn't respond, but since he'd been in a coma for longer than Thorin had known him, that wasn't entirely surprising.

“One”/Soulmates

you lick your lips (you taste like years of being alone) by perkynurples for stopchasingflowers

Thorin Oakenshield was born without the longing, and has spent his whole life merely observing others as they pursued a feeling unknown to him until they finally found their One. He has made his peace with the prospect of being alone, and has been faring well enough, but little does he know the fates have a different story in store for him.

Things We Grow Together by serenbach

Dwarves are born with a bone-deep knowledge of their One, but Thorin stops feeling the pull of his after the dragon attacks Erebor. Needless to say, he is surprised, and not initially pleased, to find his One living behind a round green door decades later.

Hobbits find a seed that represents their innermost self and can offer it to someone else to plant. This creates a bond as strong as deep roots in the earth between them. It is just like Bilbo, after years of thinking that no one would want his, to offer his soul-seed to a dwarf that does not understand gardening metaphors.

But just because they have found each other does not make the quest to reclaim Erebor any easier, and in the end a sacrifice is still made.

Thorin has to trust in the strength of the bond between himself and his One, because otherwise he will never believe that the sacrifice was worth it.

Colour-struck by northerntrash

Soul mates are like adventures, Bilbo had often consoled himself. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things that made you late for dinner. It was no great hardship that he had never met his, even if he couldn't tell which of his petunias were blue and which were purple.

Quest-ions

Discovering Mr Baggins by Eareniel

The story of a Hobbit, told through the eyes of the dwarves.

Thorin Oakenshield's Majestic Diary by Fruitsie

Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain and Totally Majestic Badass of Middle Earth, does not have a raging hard-on for Bilbo Baggins.

No, seriously.

Just read his diary.

Call You Home by northerntrash

In which the Company are entirely too nosy about matters that are supposed to be a secret, and Bilbo learns that being concerned about propriety is overrated when you could be making friends instead.

Time Travel (because walking Middle Earth is not enough)

Of an Arcane Binding by Salvia_G

An inexplicable magic ties Bilbo Baggins, hobbit of the Shire, to Thorin, dwarven prince of Erebor

#bagginshield #thorin x bilbo #the hobbit #fic rec #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield

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kob131 · 3 years

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True Name: Uther Pendragon Class: Saber Gender: Male Alignment: Lawful Good (believes he is Lawful Neutral) Parameter: Strength: B Endurance: A Agility: C Mana: E Luck: C NP: B+

History: Uther was born as the youngest of three brothers, himself, the Black Dragon Vortigern and the Paranoid Prince Ambrousis. After their father Constantine was died, the eldest son Ambrousis took the throne at the young age of 14. Due to an innate paranoia, the treachery of royal politics and persistent rumors of his father having been poisoned, Ambrousis sought to weed out all potential traitors and dangers to himself In his madness, he killed civilians for speaking unfavorably and nobles for dealing with other nations.

Unable to tolerate his eldest brother’s actions, Uther, alongside the middle child Vortigern, staged a rebellion against Ambrousis, uniting several lords and knights across Britan to wage war against his enthroned and madden kin. Through numerous bloody battles, he forced Ambrousis to met his demise by his own hand, with no small amount of grief and sadness. Soon after, the lords of the land agreed to name him King, something that would come to frustrate his last living brother.

Throughout his reign, he came into conflict with his neighbors/arch enemies the Saxxons. The two kingdoms went to war with each other many, many times, almost always with Uther just barely managing to edge a victory. During these many wars, he was always noted to be seen wandering near lakeside, gazing wistfully out upon the water. One night, on the last of his many walks to the lakes of the land, returned with two twin newborns in hand, girls who he would name Morgan and Morgause and claim as his children. No one is quite certain who the mother of these two was...

Later in life, as the strain of his life came to haunt him, he began to seek an heir to which take his throne upon his increasingly likely death. However, due to lacking a wife and having only daughters who could not be accepted by his kingdom, he looked to his old and trusted friend Merlin. Together, they hatched a plan for Uther to impregnate the lovely Lady Igraine with the king impersonating her lover through Merlin’s magic. Alas, though the child was blessed with the blood of a dragon, it was also yet another daughter, named Arturia. Distraught and despondent, Uther gave up his quest for a successor and left the child in Merlin’s care.

This turn of events alongside the death of his legitimate child Morgause left Uther in the worst of health. His body deteriorated day after day, for years on end until one day, seven years after those events, he died due to a combination of sickness and poison by his lifelong enemies....*

Personality: Quite unlike his successor, Uther is open and friendly man who ruled through trust and familiarity, while not being the best at administration. He warms the hearts of both his retainers and his people with his honesty and openness. Alas, this warmth also lends itself to a certain...fiery temperament in battle.

A man tried to uphold honor and dignity during his life, helping define the code of honor that many among the succeeding generation would uphold as their standard. That said, he could not always uphold it as the conception of his youngest child will tell you.

Below his surface though, he holds a great many regrets. He laments his killing of his brother, his inability to stop the tyranny of his other sibling, his failure to properly raise the children under his care, his shame at the manipulation of Igraine born from a moment’s weakness and lust and his perceived abandonment of his youngest child. Because of this, he feels rather uncomfortable around most British servants, especially those from his era as it reminds him of his failures. Though, he still trusts and respects Merlin (even holding the distinction of being one of the few people able to catch the flower magus off guard).

He also regrets not having tried to defy the laws of inheritness during his time, as he sees this inaction having caused the many conflicts and pain of his successors.

Noble Phantasm:

Flame Sword of the Dragon King: Caliburn Classification: Anti-Personnel Rank: B+

Born from the legends that he himself wielded Caliburn before lodging it in it’s infamous stone as well as the misconception that he himself had dragon blood- Uther wields an altered version of Caliburn of similar quality to it’s true self. In battle, he can ignite the sword with dragonfire and enhance it’s power before releasing it in an inferno the swallows the opponent. The Noble Phantasm itself is not the sword but rather the technique and skill that Uther uses when swinging the ignited sword.

Relationships:

Merlin

Still views him as a trusted advisor and friend. Wishes he would not inform him of his daughters’ sex life. Holds the distinction of being one of the few people to catch Merlin off guard.

“Ah, Merlin. My old friend! You are truly a sight for these sore eyes... Would I like to hear about my child? ... I know you better than to answer yes.”

Arturia Pendragon

A father in name only, he believes. He feels nothing but shame and remorse upon seeing her, believing he does not deserve to be considered among her family. This despite Arturia’s admiration of his own rule.

“... Of course, she is here. The noble King of Knights who did what I could not... No Master, I do not wish to speak with her. I had that chance long ago...”

Arthur Pendragon

Is VERY confused why he has a look alike calling him ‘Father.’ While accepting of the man, Uther can’t help but feel bitter about how things seemed to have worked out for his other self.

“Master? Why is that lad giving me such a strange look? ... Arthur Pendragon? My son from another world? ... *sigh* Of course I find an heir I could truly pass on to NOW of all times...”

Lancelot

Is quite confused (then amused) that his daughter’s greatest knight is a Frenchman. Uther shares a kinship with him as a fellow knight ashamed of his past. Helps that Lancelot is the first Servant he meets upon arriving at Chaldea.

“Ah sir Lancelot! I was wondering if you and I could partake in a friendly spar sometime soon! Yes yes, I shall try to keep from getting too excited like last time.”

The Orkney Siblings (Gawain, Agravain, Gareth, Garehis)

Uther feels deeply conflicted with the siblings, knowing that they are the children of his one surviving child and yet his own failings as father caused them harm indirectly. He is, however, forced to put these feelings aside as the knights all deeply admire and adore him, having been raised on stories of his heroics. Especially the eldest Gawain.

(Gawain) “Oh, you are...yes, Gawain. Morgan’s eldest son. I shall take my leave. ... Wait, You want me to stay? You want to know about my battles? Haha, I-I don’t know what to say.”

(Gareth) “Oh, young Gareth. What a surprise, what brings you to me? ... A jousting battle? Young lady, do I appear to be of the Lancer Class in any manner? ... Now it’s a sparring match?!”

Vortigern

The mere sight of his elder brother deeply enrages Uther. The pain of his brother Ambrousis’ death dredged up at the sight of the sibling he believes he should have slain, there is no chance that Uther will ever cooperate with Vortigern.

“VORTIGERN! Damn you to hell, you inhuman tyrant!”

Morgan Le Fay Pendragon

To say the sight of his eldest daughter brings Uther pain would be nothing if not an understatement. Pressured by the constant wars and responsibilities as king, along with no partner to help him in raising a family, he could never truly invest himself into Morgan’s life as he wished to. Because of this, the death of her sister and even his own, Morgan walked a path of sacrifice and failure, transforming her into the brutal witch she is known as. All because, in Uther’s eyes, he could not comfort her.

“Morgan, oh Morgan. You have suffered so much, despite never wishing for the throne yourself. Seeking it out for Morgause and myself... Forgive your fool of a father, for he could not save you from this.”

Mordred

He did not recognize her as his kin at first but greatly enjoyed her company. Upon learning of her full heritage, Uther resolved himself to make up for his failures with her parents and help guide her to a better life.

“Ah, Mordred. Come, come. We have much to talk about. Yes yes, I know you feel as though my talks are long winded and boring. But I ask of you: will you allow this old man to indulge talking to his grandchild? Ha ha, no need to blush, I should be thanking you after all.”

*Sorry to any Arthurian myth fans but holy fuck, not only is Fate’s iteration of the Round Table Myth really hard to faithfully adapt the original myth- The myth ITSELF gets really patchy when not directly concerning Arthur.

Like, the actual villain of early Uther’s life was VORTIGERN, who was NOT his brother. That doesn’t line up with Fate so I had to make the good guy Ambrousis a bad guy. And THEN it turns out that Uther fucked and married Igraine BEFORE Arthur which again doesn’t match up to Fate. So had to change the mother of Morgan and Morgause to someone else just for this to make sense.

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covrtofnightmares · 3 years

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&&. cauldron above, ( sevastian valentina ) was just spotted in the fae lands — word has it ( he ) is affiliated with ( the winter court ). ( he ) is a ( 290 / physically 35 ) year old ( half-high fae / half-warrior fae ). it’s been said that ( he ) resembles ( ben barnes ). ( he ) has been said to be ( ambitious & intuitive ) but also quite ( single-minded & cunning ). ( he ) is currently serving as ( the tsesarevich of the winter court ).

— ❝ you live in a single moment. i live in a thousand.❞

name: sevastian aleksander valentina

birthday: june 5th | gemini

scent: tonka bean, cedar, fresh pines, snow and frost, mandarin, sandalwood, citrusy woods + ( SIGNATURE COLOGNE: Sauvage by Dior )

appearance: 6′3″ with a strong, muscular build, sevastian holds the grace of the high fae and the strength of his warrior fae heritage. sevastian has spent decades training himself, in the hopes that his skills with magic and his inherited traits will help him in his eventual showdown with the high lord of winter. scars mark his black, leathery wings, and an additional scar mars his temple, sweeping down alongside his jaw. because of this, he tends to keep a groomed beard, and his thick, dark hair tends to fall naturally against his head.

current familial / relationship status: sevastian is an only child and both of his parents are deceased. however, his closest surviving family are the reigning valentinas: viktor, dimitri, and tatiana valentina are all his first cousins, through his father’s side of the family.

biography: the prince of frostfire. the demon in the mountains. sevastian valentina has been called many things throughout his long, immortal life, but kind has never been one of them. his father, the tsesarevich of the winter court, was brothers with the valentina reigning patriarch, nikolai valentina. but where nikolai was a loving, just ruler with eyes always set on the horizons, his younger brother, alexei valentina, was different. alexei married a prized member of one of the warrior fae clans living in the mountains surrounding the winter court. anya novikov was all but considered a princess among her clan, and while the match was one made out of love, it was also done pragmatically. with purpose and promise. alexei didn’t just want a wife whom he loved--he wanted someone with a powerful family and ancestry. someone who would help him create the ultimate heir; a child who might one day rise above the ranks and learn to challenge the line of succession in their kingdom. who was nikolai, after all, to be named high lord just because he was born first? alexei was smart, cunning, and ruthless--he’d been invested in court politics and war since they were children.

and he believed the kingdom belonged to him.

sevastian aleksander valentina, much to alexei’s dismay, was born with too much of his mother in him. while anya was undoubtedly a revered warrior fae heiress, alexei had been convinced that their children would bear traditional winter court markings. but when sevastian was born, instead of the glittering, fluffy wings reminiscent of wintry owls, the valentina heir bore black, leathery, taloned wings, not unlike that of a dragon. the traditional wings of anya’s clan, jutting from his child and his heir’s backside like a filthy, crooked secret. dissatisfied with the cosmetic outcomes of his oldest son, alexei and anya attempted to produce other children over the course of the next handful of years, but to no avail. conception proved to be difficult, and they were advised by healers that sevastian would likely be their only child. their heir apparent.

sevastian, meanwhile, grew up attending studies and training with other members of high and inner-ranking court circles. he had proven that he was strong and had great endurance, but much to the delight of anya, his main skills and prowess resided in the legendary valentina magic. the winter court ran through his veins, and although the wings that jutted from his backside screamed of a warrior, alexei began to think that, perhaps, his son held potential. like father, like son--sevastian was raised alongside his cousin and the reigning crown prince, viktor valentina, and the two were as different as night and day. viktor was a kind and thoughtful child. sevastian was consistently testing boundaries placed against him; he had a desire to see how far he could push others, and it was partially due to the way other children mocked him for how different his wings made him look. alexei was pleased to see the antagonistic relationship between the two boys and hoped, that in due time, sevastian would ultimately prove to be more skilled than his cousin.

at this time, rumors swirled about and circled back to the grand duke, and alexei was led to believe that there was a legendary healer who could perform intensive cosmetic surgery to alter and replace wings. it was outstanding news, and perfect for someone as career-driven as alexei. so, when sevastian had reached his twelfth year, alexei attempted to pin him down and carve the offending, leathery wings from his son’s back. sevastian’s screams rattled the very mountains, and in a burst of magic and pain he fought off his father. his mother, screaming, came to her son’s aid, protecting him as his wings had nearly been ripped to shreds. not wanting to bear the weight of scrutiny and court gossip in winter, sevastian was covertly sent into the mountains, for anya’s family to heal him and teach him how to fly again. it took a great deal of healing, work, and training, but to this day, sevastian still bears the scars and marks on his wings. by the time he returned to the winter court, he was a teenager. jaded. cold. calculating. people whispered and stared, noticing the scars that marred his wings, along with the scar that now ran from his temple down along his jaw, but none approached sevastian.

after that, the prince of frostfire was finished playing schoolyard games.

viktor became sevastian’s sole source of anger. he found himself projecting; if he had been the crown prince, if he had been born into a different family with different wings, he might have been accepted. his potential might have been used, rather than wasted. grief, rage, anger, and arrogance clouded his vision. in the end, sevastian valentina became everything his father had once aspired to be: he became a nightmare. but while alexei valentina was quick to anger, sevastian was a slow burning flame. he kindled his anger close to his chest, allowing it to transform to something hard and unfathomable in his chest, until he became rage and frost and ice. there was, of course, the matter of his father to deal with. but, like all good things, alexei valentina would have to wait.

when viktor was on the path to being officially declared crown prince, leaving his younger brother, dimitri valentina, next in line behind viktor, sevastian realized he had two paths: he could act now, and fulfill his father’s immediate desires, or he could wait. the best traps were ones planned in advance, after all. so sevastian disappeared into the fae realms, pretending to be studying abroad. but while he falsified accounts of studying and traveling for educational purposes, sevastian was gathering resources and intel. creating alliances, political and romantic, in courts whose eyes and ears he wanted for himself. he became consumed with power, the taking and keeping of it, and plotted destruction in his wake.

sevastian valentina has worn many hats in his quest for power. he’s impersonated guards and traveling noblemen; he’s done mercenary work and has aided and abetted fae in other courts for the sake of an owed favor of bargain. he trades in souls, rather than coin, and refuses to let anyone see anything beneath his armor. finally, with news of a marriage alliance between winter and spring reached sevastian valentina’s ears, he realized it was time for him to return home. for him to claim what has always belonged to him. his father, believing him to be raising an army in the more traditional sense, was displeased and disappointed by his only son’s return. sevastian’s mother had passed during his travels--a devastating loss, and one that alexei had not bothered to communicate to sevastian, but a sacrifice that had only fueled sevastian’s long-seated hatred of his father.

sevastian’s plans to rid himself of his father had been a slow-burning flame, kindled and cared for year after year. he pretended to be the faithful, if not stoic son, standing by his father’s side as he poisoned him. day after day, night after night, sevastian poisoned his father. small amounts, nothing that would arise suspicion, but it was almost refreshing, in a way, to see sevastian’s least favorite monster waste away before his very eyes. finally, alexei valentina passed away, “peacefully in his sleep,” and sevastian stepped forward to take his title. opresently, he’s working alongside another member of the valentina royal court who is eager to see destruction and dismay as much as he is: ilsa valentina, a woman with as much fire and hatred for the valentina family as him. though their relationship is anything but healthy and stable, they make powerful allies--for now. and with his father finally out of the picture, the prince of frostfire is one step closer to becoming the high lord he’s always been destined to be.

sevastian valentina is the tsesarevich of the winter court. and he will get what he’s owed, come hell or high water.

affinity: sevastian’s strengths lie in traditional winter court frost and ice magic

wings: from his mother’s side of the family, sevastian has durable wings perfect for flight and combat. his are large, black wings similar to that of a dragon, leathery and marked with talons. his wings are scarred from his youth, but mark him as a predator in the sky.

#SEVASTIAN //#the unseelie king: ( intro )#ptsd tw #violence tw #abuse tw #abuse mention #murder tw #poison tw

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lilacmoon83 · 4 years

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Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 218: The Splendor of Cibola

As they arrived back at the Jolly Roger, they found the two agents. Unfortunately, Agent Brooks was long dead, but Agent Green was hanging on by a thread, as Eva quickly went to work.

"Can you save her?" Emma asked.

"She's lost too much blood. I can heal the wound, but she needs a transfusion," Eva replied.

"Agent Green...do you know your blood type?" Eva asked. The woman swallowed thickly and rasped an answer.

"B positive," she uttered weakly.

"Aunt Regina...can you use a little magic? I need at least two pints. I can magically infuse it into her," Eva said. Regina summoned what she needed from the hospital back in Storybrooke. Eva used her magic to heal and seal the wound, before magically infusing the blood transfusion into the woman. She felt exhausted when she was finished, but didn't collapse.

"She needs rest and she should be fine then," Eva said. Leo picked the agent up and carried her down to the Captain's quarters to rest.

"I'll get us underway for that island," Killian said, as he took to the helm.

~*~

Snow and David were led up the gangplank of a ship that looked like it was a luxury ocean liner and were relieved to see Bobby waiting there with Dr. LaGuerra, Malina, Thalia, and Johnny.

"Mom! Dad!" he called, as he rushed to them and they hugged him between them, as Queen Omaru boarded as well, with her two elite commanders, Louda and Kiyun.

"Oh baby...did they hurt you?" Snow asked.

"No...they just took some blood and they were analyzing it. And they've figured out the magic cuff thing," Bobby replied, as Snow and David saw the needle marks on his arm and the black cuff on his wrist. Seething, David started toward the sick doctor, but Kiyun held up a glowing blaster.

"Another step and I discharge an electromagnetic pulse from this gun that will incapacitate you for the foreseeable future," he warned. David stopped, glaring at them, as Snow put her hand on his arm.

"Charming no...we need you," she pleaded with him and he reluctantly retreated and slipped his arm around her waist. Dr. LaGuerra smirked smugly and David sent him another glare.

"Keep smirking, Doctor...because next time I get my hands on you and I will…" he warned.

"Next time, I won't be breaking your nose. Next time...it's going to be your neck," he threatened. The Doctor tried to seem unbothered by his threat, but it was clearly making him squirm. David hugged Snow close with one arm, while he put the other one around their son.

"It's going to be okay...the others are still out there," Bobby whispered to them and they both gave him a reassuring smile. He was right and they knew their older children and other family wouldn't be far behind them.

~*~

Flashback

Zeus gazed down over the Earth solemnly. His daughter was in love again and it should have brought him joy. But it didn't, for he knew their love, though true and strong, was cursed to end in tragedy. And there was nothing he could do to stop it or save her the pain.

"At least she is happy again, even if only for a little while," Athena mentioned.

"How can you say that? You know the pain that is ahead of her again," he said in frustration.

"Because of this curse, she cannot recognize that Adonis is identical to Anchises. He feels drawn to her, for he is Anchises reincarnated into a new life that will ultimately be cut short in violence as well," he continued.

"She will be crushed by her grief again and I, the supreme God, can do nothing but watch it all unfold!" he ranted.

"Father…" Athena tried to soothe him.

"We watched her mourn Anchises for almost a thousand years and we will soon watch her mourn Adonis," he said.

"If she had just listened to me and stayed here on Olympus...she wouldn't have to go through this!" he lamented.

"Father...nothing can keep her from her soulmate, not even you," Athena warned.

"She never listens…" he complained and Athena chuckled.

"Wonder where she gets that," the Goddess teased.

"I am in no mood, daughter," he warned.

"If she had just married Hephaestus as I implored her to, then she would have been safe from all this pain," he said.

"Safe and unhappy. I know my baby sister...she will choose happiness a thousand times, even if it's only for a handful of moments in her life," she replied. He sighed.

"I have failed my lovely Dione. She would be horrified if she knew the terrible curse placed upon our daughter and the hardships she has and will endure," he said.

"Dione is always with her in spirit...she will look after her from Elysian as much as she can. She knows her daughter is strong and would never deny her love," Athena reasoned.

"Fine...but remind me again why you encouraged me not to smite that fool Collector, like I did his father, with one of my lightning bolts?" he asked irritably.

"Father...you cannot just smite every mortal that gets your toga in a twist. The mortals already think you're...not very nice," Athena said delicately.

"Ooohhh...that's putting it mildly," Hermes deadpanned, as she appeared.

"Very funny, sister. Any luck?" he asked.

"I'm afraid not. I have searched countless realms for centuries and Eros is nowhere to be found," she replied sadly.

"Damn the Black Fairy...she continues to elude us," Zeus cursed. He felt helpless and that was not something that the supreme God took well at all.

~*~

Prince Adonis bowed to the visiting dignitaries, as they filed by his mother's Throne at another ball. He detested these balls, but as his eyes met Aphrodite's across the room, he didn't mind them so much anymore, since he knew he would spend much of the evening with her in his arms.

His relationship with the Goddess was considered scandalous and the nobility in his mother's court was livid at their courtship. They were protesting it with his mother, stating that they would refuse to accept Aphrodite as his Queen one day, due to her immortal status. He didn't care though and his mother, thankfully, only wanted his happiness.

"Prince Adonis, I am Tao Xang Li, advisor to the Dragon Prince, Esteban Zhu Ling, of the great Dragon Empire," the dark haired man said, as he bowed. Adonis followed suit as a show of respect.

Welcome to my Kingdom...though I must say I am a bit surprised that you've traveled so far," Adonis said.

"Forgive my advisor, but we are simply passing through on our way to the Kingdoms to the west," Esteban replied, as he bowed again.

"Ah...you've heard the rumors about El Dorado. I've heard it is but a myth and possibly not even of this land at all, but another entirely," Adonis said.

"And who, pray-tell, told you that little fairy tale?" another voice questioned.

"I did…" Aphrodite said, as she sided up to her love and he put an arm around her waist, glaring at the brutish man before them. She looked stunning, as usual, in a glittering pink gown.

"And you are?" she asked.

"Uh...forgive him, Goddess. He is but our Navigator and has forgotten his place," Tao hissed.

"Navigator? I am the greatest Navigator in all the realms," he boasted, as he bowed to her.

"Antonio de Mendoza...and may I say, you truly are the Goddess of Beauty," he complimented, as he kissed the back of her hand, which she quickly recoiled.

"But forgive me, Goddess, the rumors of El Dorado being in a land to the west is very credible," he argued.

"Of course," she placated, as she looked at her beloved.

"Gentlemen...if you'll excuse me, I owe my beautiful future Queen a dance," Adonis said, as he led her onto the dance floor and pulled her into his arms.

"So…El Dorado? Are they on a wild goose chase?" he asked.

"According to Hermes...it's real, but they call it Cibola. But yes, they'll never find it without a magic bean to take them to a far off realm, reportedly one where magic as we know it is quite scarce," she replied.

"Sounds like an intriguing place," he mentioned, as he kissed her tenderly.

~*~

"Do you think the Goddess knows the location of El Dorado?" Mendoza wondered.

"It does not matter...she is the daughter of Zeus and if she is not offering us the information, then we do not want to press it," Tao refuted.

"Tao is wise and we will heed this advice. If the rumors are true, then Zeus killed the last mortal that wronged his daughter," Esteban said. But Mendoza's gaze on the Goddess told him that he was not done pressing the issue.

~*~

"I understand that, General, but forcing this issue could be an act of war," Major Donovan argued.

"I am receiving a lot of pressure from the people truly in power in this world and they do not tolerate what they cannot control. They want all your Intel and everything you inherited from the one known as the Collector," the General said sternly.

"And if I cannot or will not deliver that?" Patricia asked.

"Then you will be court-martialed," he threatened, as the line went dead and she pocketed her phone, before going up on deck. She knew keeping her superiors out of this wouldn't be possible for long. She had never had torn loyalties before. She had always been eager and willing to serve her country. But she also knew that there was an underbelly in the world and the country of people that really ran things. People that had no loyalty to anything other than money and power. It was why she had chosen to bring David on board to take on Clayton's underground. Because she knew a lot of them were connected to the powerful bloodlines that actually ran the world.

She had also gotten close to David and his family during the two year curse in Boston and she had grown to care about them. Betraying them and unleashing these people on the United Realms didn't sit well with her. It would be a definite war with certain casualties and the thought of some of these evil people that were pushing the General for this power getting access to magic was unsettling to say the least. They already did terrible things with their money and power. If they got possession of the magic within the United Realms, it could have apocalyptic consequences.

She knew her loyalty with them was already in question and she didn't want to say anything to anyone without Snow and David there. She knew that they might be the only ones that would fully believe her that her loyalty might be swaying toward them and away from her once loved, but now corrupt globalist minded government.

~*~

The General took the video call and stared into the room of about a dozen people. They were not well known or known at all really. But they were all descendants of this world's oldest and most powerful bloodlines. They controlled almost everything that happened in this world. Those well known public figures were mere puppets on strings for those really in control.

They had looked unhappy, which wasn't unusual. Today seemed worse though, but he wasn't surprised. There wasn't much that this elite group didn't know about so when they had found out there had been a secretive town, full of magic and mysterious, gifted people in this country, hidden right under their noses, they were livid to say the least.

"General Mendoza...have you spoken to Major Donovan?" one woman asked. Though he was far from a good man, these people even made him shiver. Most of it was their eyes. While they were human, their eyes were all soulless and empty, filled with disdain and hatred for the masses of people they ruled over and often referred to as cattle. Millions of them could die and none of them would bat an eye or shed a tear. In fact, they would probably celebrate the thinning of the herd.

"I have, Madam Stavros...but she seems reluctant," he reported.

"That's unfortunate…" a man said.

"We must have access to the United Realms," Madam Stavros insisted.

"Major Donovan seems to think that they are not a threat to us," General Mendoza interjected.

"That's because she intends to use them to bring us down and dismantle everything our families have built for over a thousand years!" the man roared.

"Mr. Crane is right…" Madam Stavros agreed in an even tone.

"Do whatever you must to intercept the Major when she returns and take control of that magical family," she added. He had no idea how they expected him to do that, but he didn't dare voice this, as the screen went blank.

"You know...I've taken on the Charmings, as they are affectionately called, and they are formidable," a new voice said. The General turned and found a familiar man standing there.

"You…I've seen you. You attacked the museum a few nights ago," General Mendoza said.

"I am Mephisto...and I can help you with your Charming little problem," he said.

"How?" he asked.

"I can get into the United Realms with my unique abilities and there may be someone that can help us break through the magical barrier protecting it," he replied.

"And what would you want in return?" the General asked.

"Just the locations of the fools you were just talking to. They are the most powerful people in this world and by making them blackhearts...then I will easily control everything in one fell swoop," he replied.

"Blackhearts?" Mendoza asked.

"My minions...they have powers bestowed upon them by me, but they are enslaved to me and would be under my complete control," Mephisto replied.

"I am not privy to their locations...but I can promise to get them into the United Realms, then they might foolishly all come to the same place. I know them...they mean to infiltrate and destroy from within. It's what they do to all countries," Mendoza responded.

"I'll get that barrier down...then we'll proceed," Mephisto agreed, as the deal was struck between them.

~*~

Half Moon Island was within view, as the grand vessel approached the mysterious place. The fog was thick and there was something ominous in the air. In response to their new atmosphere, the chalice began to pulse with energy.

"Yeah...that definitely means something," David mentioned.

"We are close to the gates of Cibola…" the Queen interjected.

"And if we open the gates...what then?" Snow questioned.

"The gold will stabilize our power and we will take our place as true rulers of this world," she said.

"Seriously? That's your plan? The old generic rule the world bit?" Bobby commented with an eye roll.

"We are one of the oldest races in existence, boy. It is our place to rule!" Omaru snapped.

"Someone who thinks they are entitled to rule over others are always unfit to do so," Snow argued.

"You and your husband will open those gates," she ordered, as the ship docked. They were forced to disembark and looked at the mossy jungle before them.

"Where are these gates?" Bobby asked.

"On the other side of the island. Move," Kiyun ordered, as they made their way into the thick jungle.

"We need a plan," David whispered to her.

"If I could get this stupid cuff off, I'd have one," Bobby murmured.

"That has to be part of our plan. We can use the chalice for that, but it is still a risk and that's not a risk your father and I are willing to take with your life, honey," Snow whispered.

"Your mother is right," David agreed, as a bird flew by and landed on Snow's shoulder.

"And...we may not have to," she whispered, as she looked at her husband. He saw the bird and realized exactly what was going on. It meant that Leo was near, which meant the rest of their family was as well. He nodded and squeezed his son's shoulder, as they reached the center of the crescent edge of the island.

"There's another island out there," Snow said.

"Yes and upon that small island are the gates of Cibola. We will take these small boats," the Queen said, indicating the small boats that looked like they were made out of some kind of tightly woven reed.

"Yeah...cause those look stable," Bobby commented, as they were ushered into one of the boats with Kiyun and the Queen, while the others manned the other boats.

~*~

"Man...what's with this fog?" Leo asked, as they arrived on Half Moon island.

"I don't know, but we need to catch up to them quickly. Who knows what will happen once Mom and Dad open those gates," Emma said.

"Are there any animals around?" Summer asked. Leo smiled.

"That's brilliant," he said, smiling at his baby sister, as he whistled. A blue bird emerged from the trees and landed on Leo's finger.

"A blue bird?" JJ asked.

"That's my question...how does a blue bird help us?" Zia asked.

"Leo can speak to all animals, but our Mom can speak to birds. He's going to send a message to Mom," Summer explained.

"Wow...your family is something," JJ said, as he smiled at her.

"In a good way," he assured her, as she smiled in return.

"Find my mother, Snow White, and give her our message," he imported to the tiny creature. It chirped at him, before flying off into the sky to deliver their message.

"Let's get moving...we may not have much time," Rumple said, as they began their trek into the jungle.

"You must be excited…" Eva said to Natalie, as they walked.

"You probably think that's silly," Natalie replied, but Eva shook her head.

"Not at all. It's easy to see that you're passionate about artifacts from other cultures and exploring the findings. I feel the same way about medicine," Eva mentioned. Natalie smiled.

"I guess so...I've been looking for Cibola most of my adult life and it's not really about the gold. It's about the find," she said.

"I get that," Eva said.

"Why are you talking to me?" Natalie asked suspiciously.

"Well...you're my Aunt, aren't you?" Eva replied.

"Uh yeah, I guess, but I'm not sure your Dad wants to claim me as his sister," she said.

"You don't know him like we do. Trust me...family is everything to him. He's going to come around sooner rather than later," Eva promised.

"What makes you think I want him to?" Natalie asked.

"Reading people is something I'm pretty good at and I have a feeling that you secretly think that being a part of a big, warm family might not be so bad," Eva replied, as she was silent and left her new Aunt to ponder those thoughts.

~*~

The liquid boiled in the beakers on the Bunsen burner, as Jekyll worked tirelessly in the lab on various experiments. He was frustrated, because wherever Snow currently was, even his nano surveillance technology didn't have access to it. He didn't like being out of the loop and he could feel the fire in his veins burning at being denied seeing her. He had observed all the events in Boston and even those in South America. But after that, the Jolly Roger disappeared from surveillance in the Pacific Ocean. This mysterious place called Mu was protected, even against his technologies. And he didn't like that at all.

To occupy his time, he worked tirelessly on new creations and lately, he had been studying the footage of the battle in Seattle. He had become recently fascinated with the star gems that the Charmings were in possession of. He had done much research and had stolen the book on star gems from Rose's library.

There was a soft sobbing that caught his attention, as his captive was awake at last.

"Ah...you're awake," he said, as he approached her.

"What...what are you going to do to me?" the dark haired woman asked.

"Oh...this is nothing personal, just an experiment. We had a lot of fun, but you were always a pale substitute for the real thing," he replied.

"You paid for my services...and I did what you wanted," she said.

"Yes...you paid the part in my little fantasy, but it was very unsatisfying. I should have known that a whore could never capture the magnificence of the real Snow White though. Some dark hair and red lipstick is hardly enough to be convincing," he replied.

"Fine...just let me go. You can even have your money back," she offered.

"Oh this was never just about sex. You're pretty enough, but hardly the vision that Snow White is. You took the edge off, but also made me realize that nothing but the real article will do for me," he hissed in her ear.

"However, all is not lost, because I have use for you in an experiment," he said, as a machine whined to life and she screamed, as he flipped a switch. A laser went into her chest and burned through her skin, as she wailed in excruciating pain. There was a glow, as the machine did it's part and her star gem floated in front of her dead body. His machine had extracted the gem from her heart, but in the process, burned her heart up.

"So...this is what makes the hearts of people from Misthaven glow when they are extracted," he said curiously. In his reading, he had discovered that all persons from magical realms had these gems within their hearts. But like this gem, most were powerless and insignificant. But the Charmings...they possessed magical ones that could be weaponized. However, his method of extraction would have to be improved.

He used a pair of pliers to carefully take the star gem and put it inside a case for later study.

"I see you're hard at work, as usual, doctor," Mephisto observed, as he slithered into his lab.

"Ah…I see you have obtained a new skin suit. It's as ugly as the last one," Jekyll commented. Mephisto chuckled.

"You're nothing to look at either, doctor. Just ask Snow White...you disgust her," he jabbed.

"What do you want?" Jekyll snapped.

"I have severed my connection to you and kept the power you bestowed upon me. I am not beholden to you," the doctor said.

"Yes…I'll admit, that angered me at first. None of my dark hearts have ever broken free of my control before. It is impressive," he complimented. Jekyll smirked.

"Complimenting me? That means you need my help," he goaded.

"There is a barrier around the United Realms. I want you to use your talents to find a way to nullify it," he said.

"That barrier was created by the Chalice...that won't be easy. It might actually be impossible," Jekyll countered.

"Oh, but not for you, Doctor. I've seen your work," Mephisto said.

"What's in it for me?" Jekyll asked.

"It's a long game...but in the end, Snow White will be in your grasp," Mephisto promised.

"I will see what I can do," Jekyll replied, as he looked at her image, which he kept upon the wall of his lab.

~*~

Flashback

A tear slipped down Adonis' cheek, as he lay flowers on his mother's coffin. The Queen had died in her sleep and the healers had determined that her heart had given out in her advanced age. The Kingdom mourned and Aphrodite was beside her beloved in every moment.

"I knew this would come someday...but I'm not ready for it. I'm not ready to be King," he lamented sadly.

"I know, my love...no one is ever ready to lose someone they love. But I know that you will be a wonderful King," Aphrodite promised.

"Sire...the scribes are here," one of the servants announced. He nodded.

"Of course," he said, as they approached.

"King Adonis...I am Aesop and have come to record your mother's story for the Archives at the library of Andresia," he said, as he bowed deeply.

"These are my assistants...the Grimm brothers," he introduced, as the pair bowed as well.

"Thank you...I trust you'll do justice to my mother's history," he said.

"We only hope that someday we can be permitted to record your extraordinary story as well, Your Majesty, and your courtship of the Goddess Aphrodite. You are the envy of many men in all the lands," one of the Grimms stated.

"Jacob...that is inappropriate," Aesop hissed, but Adonis put his hand up.

"It's okay, Aesop...I am never one to miss an opportunity to tell someone how much I love my future Queen or how beautiful she is," he said, as he kissed her cheek.

"If you'll excuse us," he said, as they walked away arm in arm. She leaned her head against his arm and they were unaware of the Queen's court's disapproving eye upon them.

~*~

They arrived at the massive, golden colored gates, which were adorned with a giant depiction of the sun on them.

"At last...we will finally have everything we need. Open them," Omaru ordered.

"I'm getting really tired of these people," David grumbled, as they joined hands and approached the gates, while Bobby held Snow's hand and went with them. The chalice glowed in response to the proximity of the gates and a pulse of power washed over the giant doors. They glowed brightly, blinding everyone present, as they opened. The sight before them was truly stunning, as an expanse city made entirely of gold was before them. The structures were reminiscent of the pyramids commonly found that had been left behind by ancient civilizations such as the Incas and Mayans. Even the streets were paved in gold and in the center was a very tall tower, glowing like a beacon and the chalice seemed to glow with it.

"Fine...you have your gold. Now you'll let us go," David said.

"That will not be the case, Your Highness. The gold will provide the energy we needed, but it is in conjunction with the chalice that will stabilize our reactor. That means you and your wife will remain our prisoners indefinitely and you will use it to do our bidding," Omaru responded.

"There's no way in hell that's happening," Regina said, as they arrived, encased in one of Summer's bubbles, bypassing the need for a boat.

"Guess we'll see about that," Johnny said, as he stepped forward, armed with his steel skin device. But Summer was ready for him and encased him in a bubble. Regina smirked, as he started beating against the bubble with his steel skin in an attempt to break through. Regina sided up to Summer and put a hand on her shoulder. She released a fireball and gave the bubble an extra layer of protection.

"The only place you're going, Junior, is a lovely cell in the United Realms prison," she said, as Emma dueled Kiyun and Leo fought Louda.

"Stop them!" Omaru ordered, as Killian used his hook to release Bobby from his magical cuff.

"Thanks," Bobby said.

"NO!" Omaru cried, as the power pulsed from the youngest Charming and the ground beneath her was unearthed. Seeing that the control was shifting, not unsurprisingly, Dr. LaGuerra and Malina tried to make a run for it back to the boats, but suddenly felt themselves frozen in place.

"We have prison cells for you too," Rumple said. Bobby raised his hands and vines emerged from the ground, trapping them effectively. Snow stepped forward and punched the doctor right in the mouth.

"Ow! You broke my tooth!" he cried, as blood leaked from his mouth.

"That's for putting needles in one of my babies," she hissed.

Kiyun and Louda stood ready with their army and motioned for them to attack. David joined Emma and Leo, as they charged them. They were outnumbered, but ready for the attack this time. David unleashed the full power of the chalice sword and with two expert swipes, he decimated most of their army. The pure power hit the soldiers and disintegrated them. He didn't like using such devastating power, but he had learned a lot from his darker half. These people had nothing but evil in their hearts and were a very real and direct threat to Snow and his children. And he was done letting people like that get a pass.

Louda sparred vigorously with Leo and managed to get a hand around his neck. She smirked deviously, as she squeezed and he began to choke.

"I'd snap your neck with ease, young one. You're just lucky that our Queen has need of your magical blood," she hissed, but then dropped him, as his body became alive with electricity. He shocked her and the force of the attack threw her into a tree. Rumple waved his hand and binding appeared on her as well.

"Down to one it seems," he said, as Emma dueled Kiyun furiously.

"We have waited too long for this moment! We are on the edge of greatness and not even you will stop us, Savior!" he claimed.

"Look around genius...we've already won," she replied, as their blades clashed.

"Your family has many adversaries...and is still haunted by demons," he said.

"If you're trying to get into my head, then forget it," Emma replied dismissively, as she matched him move for move.

"True love has saved your family...but far too many have designs on all of you, especially your parents. Those demons won't go away...they already plague your mother in the form of panic attacks," he goaded.

"There is nothing that my parents can't handle, because they have each other. My parents are none of your concern," Emma growled.

"Oh, but they are. Among many things, my Queen is a seer. She foretold the demise of the Dragon Queen and her King," he claimed.

"She warned her...but they did not heed her warning and then suffered the consequences," he continued.

"Yeah...screw your prophecy. My parents have faced death before and they always beat it. The evil they have faced has always fallen and always will," Emma refuted, as she used her magic to disarm the warrior and end the fight. Rumple secured him with bindings as well and only the Queen and Thalia remained. Her father was putting Omaru in handcuffs, while Xander approached Thalia with a pair of zip ties in his hand.

"So...you're going to lock me up again in front of our daughter?" she asked.

"I don't want to do that. But you're the one that's choosing Junior over her," he replied.

"Clayton looked out for us...unlike you," she spat back.

"I didn't know! You hid her from me!" he snapped.

"Because I knew you'd walk out on her just the way you walked out on your twin boys!" she argued.

"You don't know that! Clayton manipulated me for years! And looks like he did it to you too. He told you to hide her from me...didn't?" Xander growled.

"Mom?" Natalie prodded.

"It...it was for the best, honey," Thalia said. Xander scoffed.

"For the best? Seriously? Why? What does he get from that?" Natalie asked, as she looked at Johnny, who smirked at her.

"You know what he wanted...the Chalice and he would have done anything to get to it. Xander running off with Thalia and you didn't fit his purposes. Waking up Charming too early didn't fit his plan either," Johnny said, as he chuckled.

"Even dead...my father is still manipulating all of you! He was a master at it and still he worms his way deeply into this family," he continued.

"He hoped to sire his heir with the Goddess Aphrodite," Johnny said.

"There is no way you're Aphrodite's son…" Snow refuted, as David put his arm around her.

"You're right...he, unfortunately, was unable to seal that deal," he replied.

"Instead...he found another bloodline that was suitable. Not an immortal bloodline, but one that hated Aphrodite and everything she stood for. She was only too happy to sire me with my father when she learned that he was going to bring down Aphrodite's champions," he explained.

"Well, that didn't happen," Emma refuted.

"Yet…" he leered.

"And you're not a part of this family," Leo added.

"Oh...but I am, because of her," Johnny said, looking toward Natalie.

"Yeah...no you're not, because we are done," she refuted. He smirked.

"We'll see," he said.

"Can someone please put him on mute?" David asked. Emma waved her hand and he found himself unable to speak.

"You can have your volume back once we get back to Storybrooke and you're in prison," she said, as she joined her parents and they looked at the sprawling golden city before them.

"It's your choice now, Mom. Are you choosing Clayton over me again?" Natalie asked, as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I've never chosen him over you," Thalia responded.

"And I'll prove it to you, if given the chance," she said, as she and Xander locked eyes.

"Guess we'll find out in time," he replied, as he didn't arrest her.

"So what now?" Leo asked.

"Yeah...this is an amazing place. It has to be protected," Eva agreed.

"How do we do that? I mean, it belongs to Zia's people, but it would hardly be safe if we moved it to the Andes Mountains. No offense," Summer said.

"None taken...this would attract every greed filled person in the world and people would suffer," Zia agreed.

"Then what about moving it to the United Realms? Is it possible?" Bobby asked, as he watched his parents exchange a glance.

"With the chalice...I think it's more than possible," Snow said. David smiled at her and kissed her tenderly. It was time to prepare to return home.

~*~

Flashback

"Request denied…" Esteban said, as Mendoza's face fell.

"Sire?" he questioned.

"We have allowed many resources to be wasted on your quest for Cibola and it is time we come to the realization that it does not exist," he said, as his new Queen sat by his side, with their adviser, Lord Tao, there as well.

"Your own adviser has spun the tales of his people's guard of this grand treasure!" Mendoza claimed.

"The final writings of the people of Hiva are mere myth and legend, Navigator," Tao replied.

"No...this is her doing! She is keeping the treasure from us!" Mendoza claimed.

"You will not speak to my Queen in that manner, lest you wish to find a new home in prison," Esteban warned. Mendoza bowed.

"Forgive me, My Lord," he apologized, before leaving quietly, where he met up outside with his new ally, John Clayton.

"So now they claim it's not real," Mendoza said.

"They are lying...I've shown you the ruins of Atlantis and Tao is a descendant of the Mu. Trust me, Cibola is real too and she knows all about it," John said.

"It does not matter if we cannot find it," Mendoza replied.

"Perhaps we can. If we cannot implore them, then we will compel the Goddess to tell us. We are leaving for Cyprus," John said.

"How can we compel the Goddess to help us?" Mendoza asked. He smirked.

"By holding the life of her beloved Adonis over her head," John replied deviously.

~*~

The people of the United Realms gathered at the Harbor, having been summoned there by Queen Rose Red and Fandral. Apparently, the buzz was that Snow White and Prince David were returning from their journey had a grand surprise for all to witness.

A spiraling orange portal appeared in the ocean and the Jolly Roger sailed through it into United Realms waters, before docking at the Harbor.

Eva hurried off the ship and hugged Paul tightly, who enveloped her in his arms and they shared a kiss.

"I missed you, but I have a patient. One of the agents from Boston. She's stable, but we should get her to the hospital," Eva said. Paul smiled.

"So that's where those missing pints of B positive blood went," he realized, with a chuckle.

"I missed you too and I'll call us an ambulance for her," he replied

Leo wasn't far behind her and picked Elsa up, spinning her around. Killian and Emma followed, as they were eager to reunite with their daughter.

"Thanks for watching her for us," Emma said, as she held Hope.

"Please...we loved it," Joe replied.

Summer and Bobby followed their parents and the others off the ship, along with Zia and her parents, whom they had picked up on the way.

"So...what's this big surprise?" Rose asked, as she and Snow shared a hug.

"We found it and now, we're about to present the newest realm to everyone," Snow replied, as she showed her a small snow globe. David sided up to her and pointed out into the water.

"That seems like a good place," he said. She nodded in agreement, as they grasped the chalice together. The snow globe disappeared and the island of Mu appeared before them in the water. Most notably though, the burning mountain was gone. Snow and David had used the chalice to obliterate that threat, before encasing the whole place in a snow globe to be transported. And just behind it was Half Moon island and the incredible splendor of Cibola for all to see.

"Whoa...you did it. This is definitely my next story," Henry said, with a wide grin.

"We cannot thank you enough for preserving our ancestor's legacy," Santo said.

"It's our honor and with the amount of magic beans we have, you'll have enough of a supply to come here any time if you want," Snow replied. Santo looked at his wife.

"That is something we have been discussing and now that we have met the Queen of Hiva, it is clear that she and her people are our direct relation," Irina said.

"We have decided to relocate to Mu. Queen Nubia says that our daughter is extremely gifted and is the rightful heir to Cibola. There is much she must learn though if she is to be Queen of Mu and Cibola someday," Santo said.

"So you're moving here?" Bobby asked with hope in his voice. Zia nodded.

"We are," she confirmed, bringing a smile to his face.

"We do have a few prisoners to relocate though," David said.

"I can help with that," Fandral said, as he went to help escort them to their new home behind bars.

~*~

"So...does this place have a hotel or something?" Natalie asked.

"It does, but that won't be necessary. Our castle has plenty of rooms. Xander stays with us and you and your mother are welcome too," Snow replied. Natalie scoffed.

"Why would you do that?" she asked.

"You're David's sister, which makes you family," Snow replied.

"So it's that simple?" Natalie asked.

"Actually yes...people have accused me of being too soft on adversaries and some of them have a point. But I know someone with a good heart when I see one," Snow replied, as they exchanged a glance.

"And I also know unfinished business between two people," she added, as they glanced at Thalia and Xander. Natalie rolled her eyes.

"Then tomorrow, I'm sure that the Ramos family would welcome your architectural expertise and allow you to explore to your heart's content," Snow replied. Natalie looked at her skeptically.

"Really?" she asked. Snow shrugged.

"Why not? I mean, they're going to need a liaison between Cibola and the Atlantis museum, which has been looking for a curator with your kind of experience," Snow replied. Natalie was floored.

"Did you just offer me a job?" she asked.

"Well…Milo and Kida have the final say, but considering your background, expertise, and relation to my husband, you'll be a shoe in, if you want it," Snow replied, leaving her stunned and speechless. Snow smiled and walked away, as David returned from seeing the prison van off.

"It's good to be home," he said, as she slipped his arms around his waist.

"I'll say…" she replied, as they shared a tender kiss.

"Granny's...and then maybe a moonlight walk on the beach?" he asked.

"That sounds wonderful," she agreed, as they shared another kiss.

"And then...home to bed to not sleep," he whispered to her in a husky tone. She bit her bottom lip in excitement.

"No…I don't think we'll be getting much sleep tonight at all, handsome," she agreed, as she hooked her hand on his elbow and leaned her head against his arm. He put his arm around her waist and headed to Granny's to celebrate with their family.

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #OC Charmings #AU #original season 9 storyline #Rose Red #Fandral the Dashing #Dashing Rose #Prince James #Aphrodite #Prince Goddess #Regina Mills #Rumplestiltskin #romance #adventure #family #finding you always #the epic continues

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

Text

Wicked, pt.8 (DT royal AU)

Summary: A lot can happen in ten days, especially when there’s grief involved

Warnings: ANGST, death, descriptions of murder, indicating smut, very light fluff

Word count: 3757

WICKED - SERIES MASTERLIST

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“He's only five days old and unaffected by death. A little innocent light with so much joy. But that will soon change and I hate it.” Y/N spoke quietly, her bitterness and grief imprinted in every line of her beautifully fallen face and her stern, strained voice. She could hardly stand as she kept her son safe in her arms, close to her chest, to her broken, still beating heart.

“We know who did it, but he’s long gone.” Ethan blinked fast, fighting his own conflicting emotions as he had to come to terms that his call had been the reason why Grayson was in that helicopter in the first place.

“Any word of the body?” Y/N piped up, turning around to meet Ethan’s gloomy gaze, wanting to draw some warmth from his look – he never looked too much like Grayson until she realized she’d never see Grayson again – only in his twin brother and perhaps his son as the little one grows.

Weary, weak, Y/N felt herself nearly stumble, aware she couldn’t carry the baby any longer. The delivery itself was incredibly draining, extremely dangerous and she was convinced she’d die. The pain became unbearable and it felt like her body was breaking down. With the hypertensive episode causing a hemorrhage, the delivery was anything but smooth.

With each contraction came a pain that dominated her entire being. In those moments, for those seconds that stretched into infinity, there was nothing else. Despite it all, she didn’t make much noise, not a single scream passed her lips as she tried to focus on breathing, on staying alive. The awareness she had was only of Ethan’s hand in hers, and when they did talk, touch to gain her attention, she found it so hard.

She couldn’t open her eyes for long, her ears were ringing and she was certain her soul was parting with her body. When she did manage to blink her eyes open, she’d always look to her left – to where Ethan sat beside her. She looked at Ethan and at times, Y/N swore she saw Grayson.

She didn’t even know she was asking for him all along. They told her about it later. They said she called his name out over and over again, like a prayer, like he was her saving grace. She was calling for him, completely unaware he was fighting for his life…and losing.

Whenever they talked about wars and battles, Grayson seemed like a proficient warrior, a man who had great skill and strategy – he seemed invincible.

“Grayson, stop. I’m being serious. If there’s ever a war, I don’t want you on the front lines.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and her forehead wrinkled with worry Grayson couldn’t be sure was true. He could never be sure with her, but he wanted to believe she grew to care for him.

“If it were you, Dracovia…Would you stay behind and let your men die on the battlefield?” Grayson rose an eyebrow, aware of her answer before he even asked. She was just as much of a warrior as he is, perhaps even braver than he can ever be. She was the epitome of a brave woman with a touch of wicked. With such beauty to accompany a sharp tongue and even a sharper mind, Grayson knew he was in for a long life of arguing, but every argument would end up right where he is now – in bed with her head on his chest and her pursed lips swollen from his feverish kisses.

“You’re right.” She uttered, nearly ill with having to admit she’s wrong about something. But yes, she was aware she had no right to hold him back from ruling his kingdom the way he wanted. If there was ever a war, she’d want to be with her armies and no one would stop her.

Smiling, Grayson leaned in and pecked her nose lightly, getting a giggle in return.

“Don’t worry my dragon bride, I am quick, I am brave and I am lucky. I’m as lucky in battle as I am in love. I will win and come back to bother you for many years to come.” She couldn’t help but melt at his words, aware he’s wormed his way to her heart but she wasn’t willing to let him know yet. They had this night, this first night after she thought he’d have left her, cast her aside for asking the crown matrimonial.

But he didn’t.

And he wasn’t as invincible as they thought. She always worried he might be too cocky for his own good and it had proven to be true. The helicopter was found two days in, halfway to Dracovia – to her. His body has yet to be recovered although a few sharks they’ve hunted had human flesh in their stomachs…DNK came back as human but it was far too damaged to be properly analyzed.

And there really isn’t some cosmic, instinctual feeling inside you that warns you of such tragedy. She didn’t feel the moment he was in danger nor the moment he passed. In fact, she didn’t feel anything at all. He was just gone and she couldn’t change it, but she could avenge him.

“No full remains. Only the contents of three different sharks we’ve caught…I don’t want to believe it either, but from the black box, we know he was left in the helicopter alone and considering the damn thing was tampered with from what he said…we heard him crash.” Ethan sighed, watching Y/N visibly tense under his unrelenting gaze. He didn’t leave her side since it happened, only when it was time to feed the baby as per request. It was either him or Brooks beside her, especially when she had found out the full truth.

“I’m sorry, but can the prince please accompany me?” Lady Mareen came the next morning after the childbirth was done with and both mother and child were safe. The queen lost a lot of blood and needed a few transfusions, but she was stable and so was her son – the future king of Dracovia and Astros.

“Why?” Y/N questioned before Ethan had a chance to move or speak, her impatience clear in her sharp tone and narrowed eyes, very well prepared to extort some answers if necessary and Mareen knew it. She grew up with the queen…she was there when she was born, of course she knew that her temper is bad and her intolerance for secrets was worse.

“Because prince Ethan instructed me to call king Grayson to come here last night and since he didn’t make it here, I’ve called Astros and they told us the king left immediately the past night. However, the king never arrived and we sent a search party for him that’s just returned with terrible news.” Mareen spoke to her queen, hoping the young woman can take this shock, this incredible pain her husband’s death was bound to cause. Mareen wasn’t blind, she knew the young queen loved her husband despite her claims that she bore no love for him.

“Was it an accident?” Y/N gulped, waiting for an answer she expected.

“We’ve already examined the black box and from what we heard it wasn’t an accident. He mentioned Gandria as well as…his eternal regret about not being by your side…and about his love for you. Those were his last words.”

Y/N remembered when Ethan told her the full truth of Gandria and the real reason why Grayson thought she’d be safer in Dracovia and how he knew she’d fight him on it if he told her the truth. And he was right…she never would have left him had he told her any of it.

“She did what?!” Ethan whisper shouted, his eyes nearly bulging out his head. What he heard was enough to scare anyone, even Brooks.

“She sent her army to the island and they searched for Grayson high and low. She thought he might be alive and held captive, but when they didn’t find any sign of him and when they didn’t get anything by torture, she had them slaughtered in the vilest way possible…she had them burned alive before burning the entire island as well.” Brooks whispered as well, not wanting Y/N to hear them as they met up right before her room – the room she and Grayson shared in Astros.

The queen insisted to be moved to Astros, no one understood why. No one knew she felt closer to him in his kingdom where they shared so many good memories, so much love. No one knew she wanted to come to him after giving birth and tell him just how much she loves him and how she’d do whatever is necessary to mend their relationship. She was ready to step on her pride and honor and give him all the power in the relationship.

She didn’t have a chance to do so and as her grief consumed her, her temper had taken over and she was no longer just a little wicked as Grayson called her – she had become lost in the darkness.

“I never thought she was capable of that.” Ethan lowered his voice, rubbing his chin in thought as he stared at the ground in worry. The woman he knew before this tragedy was soft-hearted despite her previously hatched plans. She was good, sweet, kind, but now? He didn’t recognize her and he didn’t know what to do to stop her if she goes mad and tries to do the same to Astros. Sure, the men and women she had killed were evil, but if she would to kill them, why did she do it in the slowest, worst possible way?

Brooks nodded, licking his bottom lip before catching it between his pearly whites. He didn’t know what to do to help his love, the woman he had served and will serve till his death. He wasn’t entirely surprised she had done this deed, but he couldn’t help but wonder what would become of her when the grief lets her feel the horror of her deeds.

“They shot her husband out the sky and she burned an island for it. It’s the dragon’s way to grieve - with fire and blood.”

Now she sat in their old room alone, lonelier than ever. She sat on the couch he had gifted her, feeling his lingering scent as if he had just left the room after breakfast. Their child slept safely tucked away in his crib, barely sleeping as if he too finally felt the grief of his father’s death.

‘He’ll never know his father’, she realized as tears welled up in her eyes. She always imagined Grayson as the kind of a man who wanted a big family with lots of little versions of them running around and in time, she caught herself wanting the same – perhaps not on the same scale, but she wanted to have more of his kids as time passed and their relationship was more solid and less filled with evil plans and secrets on both sides.

She always knew Grayson wouldn’t live to see his son become a king, a curse all kings share. They can never know what kind of a king their son would be, but she never thought her child would be crowned king in his tenth day on this earth.

“Y/N.” Brooks walked into the room, a little braver, a little more capable of looking at her directly than Ethan. If anyone could understand her wrath and behavior, it was him. He too was a dragon after all.

“You know I performed the ritual for my son already?” She spoke absentmindedly, running her knuckles gently across her son’s cheek, seemingly lost in thought but she just needed to talk to someone and the people she wanted to talk to were all dead, gone with the wind.

“He got a black dragon as his patron…he’s a dragon even though Grayson wasn’t. And we both know a black dragon means incredible beauty and a courageous heart.” Her soft lips curled at the corners, putting on a meek smile on her face, the best she could do. She knew only one person with a black dragon as a patron and he was stood in the room with her.

“He’s a black dragon, yet he’s nameless.” She finally looks up at Brooks.

“Perhaps some traditional Dracovian names? Maybe something to honor his father?” Brooks tilts his head to the left slowly, a lone curl falling in his eye as she shakes her head.

The day after they proclaimed him dead and decided to bury the unidentifiable pieces of flesh found in shark guts, they said, "He was a good king", as if they were glad to be remembering him, that they took some comfort in it. Each of them had stood by, aware of the conspiracy, knowing it would happen and no one did anything about it. In her mind, it’s as bad as watching him be killed, then acting as if it were a noble sacrifice for their sake, that by loving his memory the mourning became a wholesome and wonderful thing. They were cowards; none of them willing to see the difference between honorable self-sacrifice and murder. Guilty men will do that; lock the truth in a cage and warp love into something strange and awful. Loving him meant Y/N would have traded places in a heartbeat, fought until they either both lived or died. And so, for her, the mourning, the grief, wasn't good at all, it was only the start of the longest, darkest night there ever was.

“I wanted him to name him. I…I wanted him to have the honor, but now…” Trailing off, she turned away swiftly to hide the tears she couldn’t keep down no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t keep them down ever since she saw the clothes she was given for the funeral – the same clothes she saw herself wear in the vision – dark as her heart, but Grayson was never darkness. He was light and he was sunshine and she wanted to wear green, his favorite color, however, she couldn’t ignore Astros and their tradition of wearing black.

But there was no body and she wanted to believe more than anyone that her husband found a way to some shore they might have missed. She wanted to believe her Grayson was just as invincible as he said he is, that he was finding his way home now.

Despite her wishes, Y/N was also a realist. She was aware chances for that ever happening were slim at best, if not entirely non-existent. Today, she’ll bury the leftover pieces of the man she loved so much she didn’t know how to breathe without, but she’ll have to learn. She’ll have to learn to live with the regret of never telling him how much she loved him, for always doing everything the hard way instead of just trusting him. She has much to regret, much to be bitter and angry about, but all those emotions have to be put on hold today. Today she is his widowed queen, even if she was never officially a ruling queen, she was his queen nonetheless.

“Bailey.” She whispered, more to herself than anyone else. She had felt it to be right, fitting for her son to carry his father’s middle name, the same one he had hated but she loved. The only thing she told him she loved.

“Grayson Bailey Dolan.” Y/N whispered as she pressed a tender kiss to Grayson’s jaw, smiling right after for her turned his face with the most perplexed look on his face that she couldn’t help herself.

“My mom wanted me to be a girl. She had three name ideas and those were: Ethan, Grant, Grayson and well…I ended up with a unisex middle name. Never really liked it.” He explained and she hummed in response.

“I quite like it. It fits you well. I prefer it to Grayson.” Y/N smirked when his eyes grew in surprise.

“You really like it?” He exclaimed, sure she’s just messing with him, but it wasn’t on her agenda for the evening.

“Like it? I love it.”

“I believe it to be a beautiful name.” A female voice interrupted her, not really scaring her, rather simply surprising her.

“Queen mother.” Y/N quickly curtsied out of respect for she had never met Grayson’s mother before and despite her being a queen herself, she wanted to show the woman proper respect.

“Never bow to anyone without a crown dear.” Lisa helped her straighten up, her body still hurting from the delivery. She was barely in any shape to be out of bed, let alone attend her husband’s funeral. But Y/N is a stubborn woman, that much everyone knew. She would be there to say goodbye to him.

“You had a crown once too.” Y/N tried to smile, failing miserably as the corners of her lips curved downwards into a deep frown she couldn’t shake. Brooks took it as a sign to let the women speak, but he didn’t leave the room. He was still too worried about her.

“Ah, yes. I was once in love with my husband, lived in a big castle similar to this one and I thought I would die when he was gone. It’s not just your husband that you lose, but their respect, your importance. The people take it all from you and you’re soon replaced by a beautiful young woman they would worship until she meets the same fate.” Lisa smiled softly as she recognized the tears in Y/N’s eyes, encouraging her.

“If you want to cry, you should. No one would see you as anything less if you show you’ve loved my son. He surely loved you.” Lisa turned to her grandson, her gentle eyes soften at the sleeping baby as if she was seeing Grayson again.

“He’s always with you – in your heart, in him. It’s impossible to erase such love. I can see your anger, but if you let it consume you, it would tarnish his memory. Be the woman he fell in love with.”

‘But he fell in love with me as I am, temper and wicked plans and horrible notions of what love is.’ Y/N thought. Grayson knew who she was from their first wedding night and he loved her regardless, flaws and all. But she didn’t want to say it out loud. Instead, she turned to Brooks and gestured for him to come closer.

He offered his forearm for her to hold onto as they walked out of the room, leaving the baby with lady Mareen. Lisa followed, after all she was to be the first in the carriage with Ethan as the ruling family. Ethan would surely be regent until her son turned eighteen.

Walking out the castle, she stopped in her tracks as she saw the procession was ready, just waiting for her. She couldn’t see what the coffin was made of, but she knew it didn’t matter as the Astrovian flag covered it entirely. It was put in the back of a carriage instead of a car, giving him a kingly funeral of the olden times.

She stepped closer, letting go of Brooks with her heart caught in her throat closer she got. It’s an empty coffin with just a few pieces of flesh, but it didn’t lessen the pain she carried. Everyone's heads were down. Maybe it was them showing respect of maybe they were too afraid to look at the grieving widow.

Y/N hated funerals. She had more of them in her short lifetime than most do and the customs were fairly familiar to her. Placing a hand on Grayson’s coffin, she had to admit that there was no point in holding onto hope. If he was alive, he’d have made it back by now. He was surely lost as they think and clinging to him will only cause her pain.

But she still kept her hand on the coffin, leaning down as her lips pressed a kiss to the flag that covered the finest wood. He was a king, they wouldn’t bury what remains of him in cheap wood.

Lifting her head, she opened her eyes and let her tears flow freely. They soaked the material, her heart constricting painfully in her chest.

“Come on. The queen always rides the carriage with the family.” Ethan tried to steer her away, but she wouldn’t be handled. Instead, she looked him straight in the eye and mustered a half-smile.

“I’m no longer the queen of Astros.” She watched the procession start, wanting to walk after, but Ethan stopped her.

“Yes, you are.” His word baffled her, but she didn’t have the strength to fight his grip on her forearm. She looked up in his intense brown eyes and waited for him to say whatever he had practiced to tell her in hope of getting her to either feel better or give into his possible marriage proposal.

But he had something else on his mind.

“I was with our lawyers today and we found his will. Grayson left you crown matrimonial about three months into your marriage. He did it before he went to quell the rebellion.” Ethan spoke clearly yet the words felt too hard for her to understand.

“He did?” She whispered, her heart aching painfully.

“Yes. He did. He loved you Y/N and I don’t think there’s a bigger testament to just how much than that piece of paper.” Ethan wanted to hold her, but he feared she’d push him away again. He didn’t want her to think he’s using his twin’s death as a way to her heart. He wasn’t. He wouldn’t.

Y/N wanted to speak, to say something but words escaped her as she realized how much he truly cared and how he had protected her even after his death, even when he couldn’t really trust her motives were pure.

But before she can piece her mind back up, a chorus of screams and shocked gasps ripple through the people in the procession from just outside the castle and before they know it, Y/N and Ethan find themselves shaking, swallowing a scream as well as they felt the shock and disbelief be replaced with emotions they couldn’t quite understand for the scene before them should be impossible – a mere dream, but it wasn’t.

In the middle of the day, on a black stallion, their fallen king rode into the castle.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

A/N - any thoughts or theories? Any favorite lines in this one or any previous parts? Get ready for the finale because the next part is probably the last one.

Tags: @graysavant @yaren-ates @beinscorpio @dolandolll @godlydolans @dolanstwintuesday @accalialionheart @peacedolantwins @heyits-claire @graydolan12 @gia-kerks @justordinaryjen @dopedoodes @sunshinedolantwins @pitreshawn @melodiesforari

#grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan royal au #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan series #grayson dolan au #grayson dolan angst #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan king #grayson dolan king au #king!grayson #wicked

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feuilly-cakes · 4 years

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Night World by L.J.Smith - Review/Overview

So 2 weeks ago I began a journey to reread one of my most favourite series that I hadn’t read for upwards of 8 years. It was an emotional rollercoaster, between some truly emotional moments and WTF moments, huge plot twists and excited memories. I enjoyed the experience, but let me tell you my reading preferences have changed hugely since I was a preteen and I can no longer call it a favourite, because the entire series is based on insta-love and is written just like you would expect a teen vampire romance written in the 90s. Before scaring you off, let me tell you what it’s about. Every story is about unlikely soulmates, usually between a human and a Night World citizen. The Night World contains vampires, witches, werewolves, and shapeshifters, and it’s forbidden that humans know about it, and it’s forbidden that a Night World citizen falls in love with a human. Although set in the same world and characters appearing multiple times throughout, each book is a standalone and simply follows a formula. If you loved the vampire books of the past couple decades and also insta-love and soulmates, then please check out the series. I have an overview/review of each below.

We begin with SECRET VAMPIRE. Poppy has been diagnosed with cancer and is given only months to live. Her best friend, the mysterious James, says that he can save her, but at what cost? This is a particularly brutal start to a series, dealing with death and grief and huge life changing decisions, but it really serves to drag you into the story and make you care about the characters from the start. It’s very much written as a teen vampire romance though, with the convenient plot happenings and unnecessary drama. It sets the tone for the rest of the series so if you enjoy this you’ll probably love all the books.

Next is DAUGHTERS OF DARKNESS, which follows Mary-Lynnette as she falls headfirst into a mystery of Night World Proportions. Just what were the new girls in town burying in their aunt’s garden? And where has the old woman gone? If you liked Ash in the first book, you’ll be happy to see him again here, this time intent on dragging his sisters back to the enclave from which they escaped. This one used to be my favourite, for the soulmate aspect and the big reveal (not as big or intense to 21 y/o me as 12 y/o me I must say) but somehow not the murder mystery plot, which I remembered nothing about and so was completely immersed in. I also realised around this point that insta-love doesn’t do it for me anymore, and I would have rathered it be a 400 page slow burn than a 200 page insta-love rushed kinda deal. The ending was very sweet so I forgave it for the time period it was written in.

Third in the series was ENCHANTRESS, a story about witchcraft and fighting over a boy. Thea has found her soulmate in a human, but her cousin Blaise has set her sights on him too. Thea must compete with Blaise to save her soulmate, because not only does Blaise play with boys until they break, but love between a human and a Night World citizen is punishable by death. I’m personally not a fan of these sorts of stories, but the sisterly bond between Thea and Blaise as well as the introduction of the witches was interesting enough to tide me through, and I was rewarded with a nice ending.

Volume 2 begins with DARK ANGEL. After Gillian drowns in the dead of winter, she is brought back by Angel, who promises to make her popular and help her get the guy. But who is Angel really, and what does he want from Gillian? As someone who adores flawed protagonists, the selfish, shallow, and hopelessly naive Gillian was a great one. She makes terrible decisions and ignores all the red flags that we as readers can see easily, which is frustrating and great to read about. I loved this witchy story far more than the last, and I really wanted more like it, with lost witches and how they find their way back.

THE CHOSEN is about vampire slave trafficking, so your mileage may vary. Rashel is a bitter and vengeful vampire hunter, sworn to kill them all after witnessing the deaths of her mother and best friend at just 5 years old. When girls start to go missing, Rachel must investigate and stop whoever is taking them, even if it means going up against the fearsome vampire Quinn. This book opens up with the double murder, and then Rachel being targeted for another, which definitely leaves her traumatised. That being said, she is 17 when the main story happens, and has some cringe moments (such as “this kitten has claws” which had me physically put the book down to cringe over it.) The insta love was getting tedious at this point (seriously they meet like 3 times and most of that is spent with her trying to kill him) so when the dramatic plot twist happened I was relieved for some real drama, and drama it was let me tell you. I once again had to put the book down and just gape in shock, for I had remembered none of it. A good read.

SOULMATE, meanwhile, had me in great emotional pain. We follow Hannah, who has been finding notes in her own handwriting telling her she will be dead before she is 17, that she must remembered something important, and that He is coming. Using hypnotherapy, she begins to unravel her past lives and the mystery that runs through all of them regarding her soulmate Thierry, a Lord of the Night World, who she is inexplicably afraid of in her memories. All I can comment here is the reincarnation, star crossed lovers, and soulmates, all mixed into one big story nearly did me in. Also, the characters from the previous books make an appearance, which is always exciting.

This is where we get an overarching plot that never got completed. All you need to know is that there’s a prophesy predicting the apocalypse and there are 4 Wild Powers who are fated to stop it but only if all 4 are together.

HUNTRESS kicks off with Jez Redfern discovering she is a vampire/human hybrid and leaving her vampire gang to go live with her human family. She joins Circle Daybreak and becomes a vampire hunter, but is called back into the Night World when her old second in command, Morgead, demands a position on the Council in exchange for the first Wild Power. She is tasked with uncovering the identity of the person before the Night World Council does, and bringing them into Circle Daybreak alive. The characters in this one aren’t very interesting, but it’s not a problem because the plot goes by super quickly and the mystery keeps the story afloat. If you love a big reveal then this is a good book for it.

BLACK DAWN is about slavery and socks. When Sylvia turns up in the dead of night with news that her boyfriend, Maggie’s brother, has gone missing in a climbing accident and is presumed dead, Maggie feels something isn’t quite right with the story, and in the process of trying to find out the truth she is taken by slavers. She must now survive the journey into the dark kingdom hidden in the mountains, and find the way out, told to her in a strange dream... I found the plot a bit convenient and a bit cliche at times, which is only to be expected from this series at this point. The only thing that truly surprised me was the “The Deliverer!” scene, which you will know immediately when you come to it. Genuinely I couldn’t quite grasp what was happening and so I had no reaction to it but looking back that was bizarre and made zero sense in the context of the book, which until that point was a survival story. An odd one, but not bad until that point.

The final book, but not the end of the story, is WITCHLIGHT. Keller is a shapeshifter tasked with protecting an unknowing Wild Power, delivering her to her bonding ceremony to the prince of shapeshifters, and therefore ensuring a treaty between the witches and the shapeshifters in the coming war. The catch is that the prince is Keller’s soulmate and Iliana, the Wild Power, refuses to accept that she is magical. This was a weird one for a different reason and that reason has scales. Keller seemed annoying at first and so did Iliana, but that was quickly overtaken by the DRAGON?! plotline. My notes on this were very sweary and confused. I liked the history lesson we get on the history of shapeshifters - it seems to be a parallel to colonialism and slavery, and the guilt we feel knowing our ancestors did that to people. On a less serious note, for someone so sharp and strategic, Keller sure is dumb when it comes to her feelings. She’s part of Circle Daybreak and yet doesn’t recognise the soulmate bond when it comes to her and I was frustrated. The fallout of her realising the truth was painful and real, very lovely but in a sad way. The showdown was super exciting and the ending I loved. There was a lot of character development too.

I highly recommend checking this series out. It’s not expensive to buy and is a fun and easy read.

#lj smith #books #book review #night world #vampires #books and literature #book recommendations

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thewarriorandtheking · 4 years

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The Warrior Queen - Part II

The Warrior and The King: Book II

Chapter 8. Market Day

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It was market day in Dale. The day the first caravans arrived from the south and the traders from the coast came to bargain for Dwarven steel. There were fewer traders these days, and more guards, but it was still the first festival of summer, merchants setting their wares out in the streets and performers plying their trade. Thorin Oakenshield was walking among the caravans with his daughter. It was a family tradition, he had been bringing his children to market day since they were little. The boys were too old to be interested now, but his daughter still loved to come and see all the exotic animals and watch the street performers.

Thorin always wore his old traveling clothes on this day and kept his hood up, he was recognized by the residents of Dale and some of the merchants he had been dealing with for years, but they would let him pass without ceremony. Today he was one of the people. He always traveled with several guards now, and today they were also dressed as common folk. Traders that did not know him often took Freya to be his wife, which always made her smile and laugh.

They were looking at some silks at one of the caravan stalls, so little of it made it this far north anymore. Freya was trying to convince him to buy some for her while Thorin shared a cup of coffee with the merchant. The man had been coming to Dale for many years, he often teased Thorin that the Silver Fountain must be a fountain of youth, the rest of the world aged while Thorin continued to look the same. Thorin shared a laugh with the man and as he was handing the cup back he saw the merchant stare at something behind him with a look of pure astonishment. Thorin put a hand on his sword and turned, already thinking about his surroundings, how best to protect Freya.

Coming up the crowded street was Kaylea Wolf, leading her horse, a huge grey wolf at her side. The people fell back as she passed, staring. Kaylea was known to some of the older residents of Dale, but mostly by reputation. It was one thing to hear the stories about her, quite another to see her walking down the street, tall and fair as an Elven Lord, clothed all in black, sword and bow across her back, her hair braided in Dwarvish style. She was smiling but obviously trying not to smile too broadly. She stopped in front of Thorin and kneeled down on one knee, bowing her head.

“My king,” she said. Thorin pushed his hood back, his smile wide. He offered her his hands and when she set hers in his, drew her to her feet and into his arms. Thorin always remembered how good it felt to kiss Kaylea, but memory was a pale thing compared to having her in his arms. The taste of her, the feel of her lean body, the smell of her hair. Thorin lifted her off her feet as he kissed her, not trying to contain his joy at seeing her.

“My love,” Thorin said at length. Kaylea was giving him a startled look, obviously she had been coming to Erebor for many years now and their relationship was hardly a secret. But Thorin had never kissed her in the middle of a public street before. Something had changed. He was smiling at her, his amazing blue eyes twinkling, she could not resist pulling him close and kissing him again.

This time when they parted there was polite applause from the people standing around. Thorin waved at them to indicate the show was over.

Kaylea looked around then back at Thorin questioningly. He was smiling at her, still holding her close. The onlookers had gone back to inspecting the wares and haggling over the prices.

“My king, what are you doing?”

Thorin sighed, his face suddenly serious. “Things have changed since you were last here, my love,” he said. “My wife died a year after you left the last time. It was an accident, nothing anyone could have done.”

Kaylea was shocked. “I am so sorry, my king. The mother of your children, that must have been a hard blow.”

Thorin shook his head. “It is an old grief now, I have done my mourning for her years ago.” He met Kaylea’s eyes. “And you know what this means.”

Kaylea sighed, she shook her head. “Thorin…” she began, then she heard a giggle and looked over to see Ajax licking Thorin’s daughter in the face.

“Do not let him do that!” Thorin said sharply, Freya looked at him sheepishly. Kaylea put a hand out and the wolf came to stand next to her. She bowed low to Thorin’s daughter. “Your highness,” she said. Freya nodded back to her, smiling but also a bit nervous. Kaylea was so tall and beautiful and strong, she always felt like she was the one who should be bowing. She looked over at the wolf’s yellow eyes, she thought for sure he winked at her.

“Come, let us go home,” Thorin said. He looked around to make sure all the guards were with him and took Freya’s hand.

“Father, can we not stay a little longer? I want to see the play,” she pleaded. “And you still have not bought me those silks.”

Kaylea laid a hand on Thorin’s shoulder, she inclined her head to speak into his ear. “Do not let me interrupt you plans, my king. I have to meet a couple of people yet. I was planning to come to Erebor this evening, I just happened to see you in the street.”

Thorin turned to her with a wry smile. “You are here and were going to wait until the evening to see me, that is a fine welcome!” He was teasing, of course. He slid a hand inside her coat and pulled her close to kiss her again. After a long moment Kaylea took her leave, promising to ride back to Erebor with them.

Freya watched the tall woman walk back down the street. She loved it when Kaylea came to Erebor. It had always caused a bit of tension between her mother and father, but she was fascinated by the warrior and her wolves. And Thorin was such a different person when she was with him, smiling and content instead of brooding and glowering at everyone. When she was a little girl Kaylea had given her a knife with a handle made from the tooth of a dragon, it was still one of her most treasured possessions and she carried it with her always.

Thorin was also watching Kaylea walk away, his face thoughtful. Now that he was a free man again, he hoped this was going to be the last time he had to watch her leave. He turned to smile at Freya. “Now, where were we, my girl?”

More than seventy years had passed since Thorin first laid eyes on Kaylea. His life had changed in ways he could hardly have envisioned when he was just a prince from the Blue Mountains. The Lonely Mountain prospered, though the loss of Balin and those that had gone with him still pained him. Erebor was now the greatest of the Dwarf kingdoms in Middle Earth, a center of industry and trade as it had been in the days of Thror. He had three children who were the joy of his life, wealth uncounted and, after ageing backwards for a time it seemed, he had not aged at all since the Battle of the Five Armies. The heads of the other kingdoms were already calling him Thorin the Deathless.

Kaylea Wolf had come back to Erebor a half dozen times over the years, the last time he had seen her was eight years ago. Although years passed between her visits, she and Thorin shared such a deep, intimate connection that they always just picked up where they had left off, as though only a day or two had passed. That same connection made them miss each other terribly, but over time it became manageable until they saw each other again. The war Kaylea had long spoken of was fast approaching now. On a clear day the black clouds that covered Mordor could be seen in the south. Few traveled the Brown Lands now, even the caravans stayed north of the River Running. The roads to the south were dangerous until closer to Gondor where the might of that great city kept the servants of the enemy at bay. The people of Erebor had labored long to make the city safe, and Thorin was confident now they could close the gates and live comfortably for many years, just as his people had lived out the Dark Times in the great city of Moria. Though he was always happy to see Kaylea for other reasons, he was curious what news she would bring this time.

Thorin and Freya were almost halfway back to Erebor when Kaylea caught up to them on her big horse. The sun was already down and the vale between the feet of the mountain was bathed in evening light. Kaylea pulled her horse up to speak with the guards for a few moments before trotting up to ride beside the carriage. Thorin looked over at her with a smile.

“Was your day successful, my love?” He asked. Kaylea nodded.

“And yours?”

Thorin looked ahead thoughtfully. “There are fewers traders every year and they bring less with them,” he said. “Some I talked to today said they are not sure when they can make the trip again.”

Kaylea took a deep breath. “Some of the roads are unsafe now, it matters not how many guards they bring.” She and Thorin looked at each other. They did not speak again until the gates of Erebor. Thorin gave Freya a hand down from the carriage and watched her walk across the hall. He turned to Kaylea.

“I have moved your things to my quarters,” he said.

Kaylea’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that wise?”

“I do not care. I am done with the pretense, there is no need for it anymore,” he moved closer to put an arm around her waist. “I hope you were planning to change for dinner.”

Kaylea smiled. “Is it a formal occasion?”

Thorin shook his head. “Just the family. I feel like celebrating a little.”

“I brought a couple of new tunics with me, just for you,” Kaylea knew the King was not fond of her black uniforms. Over the years she had brought a variety of clothes and left them in her wardrobe in Erebor, it was easier than carrying them back and forth. She did take the jewelry Thorin had given her, knowing he would be offended if she left it, but she never wore it anywhere but Erebor. Except for the ring he had given her the first time, that she wore on a chain around her neck.

Kaylea made sure her horse was settled before heading up to Thorin’s apartments. His rooms were so much grander than the quarters where she usually stayed. A series of rooms, high, carved ceilings, beautiful tapestries, wide fireplaces and Southron rugs on the floors. His walk-in closet always amused Kaylea, he had more clothes than any other man she knew. Thorin was not there yet, she found her clothes in the corner of his closet and hung up one of the new tunics then walked across the bedroom to the bathroom. Ajax was curled up in the middle of the bed. Kaylea smiled at him. “Better not let Thorin find you there,” she said. The wolf blinked at her, feigning innocence.

In fact the huge four-poster bed was big enough for her and Thorin and Ajax with room to spare. She had teased Thorin about it, how big a bed did he need? Did the King Under the Mountain keep a harem of Dwarf women that he needed a bed big enough for seven of them? Thorin’s response had been it was in case the king fell in love with a tall warrior woman. Kaylea washed up and had just put on her tunic when she heard Thorin come in. She was fixing her hair in the mirror as she watched him come up behind her. He slid his arms around her waist, kissing her neck.

“I have missed you so, my love,” he said. Kaylea turned in his arms to kiss him, it was a long moment before Thorin spoke again. “We do not have long to dinner, unfortunately.”

Kaylea smiled at him, reaching for his belt. “Dinner will wait for the King.”

Almost an hour later they came down the stairs together. Kaylea wore a soft dark blue tunic with silver designs sewn into the neck and hem. Thorin was wearing black tonight, a soft shirt, embroidered vest and suede breeches. As they walked into the Reception Hall Kaylea’s eyes swept the room. She saw Dis and Fili and Gloin: also there were all three of Thorin’s children: Thror, the oldest, Durin and Freya. Thror came over to greet Kaylea, bowed low and inclined her head. “It is good to see you again, my lady,” he said. “You always seem to brighten these halls.”

“Thank you, your highness,” Kaylea replied. “It is good to be back. What happened to your arm?” She indicated the bandage he was wearing on his wrist.

Thror looked embarrassed. “Oh, nothing. Just a cut from sparring.”

“You will have to show me how that happened, perhaps I can show you a block that could have prevented it,” Kaylea said.

Thror’s face lit up, then he looked nervously at his father. “I would like that,” he said, his face starting to turn red.

Kaylea turned then to Durin and bowed to him. “Good evening, your highness.” He was looking pointedly at the white scar near her collarbone the Ringwraith had given her all those years ago, visible because of her tunics wide heart-shaped neckline.

“Is it true you almost died from that little thing?” He asked, voice dripping acid. “Seems hard to believe.”

Thorin was scowling at him. “I believe I taught you to be more polite,” he said. Durin looked sideways at him.

“I can be polite when there is a reason, father,” he said.

Thorin looked like he might actually hit him, but Kaylea put a hand on his arm. “It is a soldier’s greatest honor to lay down her life in defense of her King, I would do the same for you without hesitation. Perhaps one day you will understand this.”

Durin turned away without a word, Thorin glowering after him.

“You must excuse my children,” Thorin said through his teeth.

Kaylea just smiled. “They are entitled to their own opinions. You cannot have expected them all to take your side.”

Thorin sighed. “I suppose not,” he said. “But am I supposed to be in mourning the rest of my life?”

“Durin reminds me the most of you,” Kaylea replied. “Would you have ever forgiven what you saw as an insult to your mother?”

Thorin chuckled ruefully. “No, I would not.”

Kaylea thought it was no surprise Thorin and Durin did not get along, they were exactly alike. Durin was the spitting image of his father and seemed to have inherited his father’s temperament as well. Thror had his mother’s eyes, and there was a sort of refinement about him his father lacked. And Freya, she probably broke nine hearts on her way down to breakfast in the morning.

Dis came up with Freya, giving Durin a dark glance. “Do not listen to him, we are always glad to see you,” she said. Kaylea bowed low to her as well, always careful to show proper respect to all of Thorin’s family.

Dis was looking from her to Thorin and back. “So, you two will be getting married now, I expect. When is the day? I will need to start planning.” Freya stared, Was this true?

“Tomorrow works for me,” Thorin replied seriously, looking at Kaylea.

Kaylea was shaking her head. “This is not a good time to be planning a wedding,” she said to Dis. “We have not yet spoken about it.”

Thorin scoffed. “If we talk about it any more I will pull my hair out.” Kaylea glared at him.

Dis laughed. “Well, let us all hope it does not come to that! As soon as you two come to an agreement, let me know.”

Read the adventures of The Warrior and The King on AO3 & FanFiction, author is akdogdriver. All three books now on Wattpad, under dogdriver.

#fanfiction #thorin x oc #thorin oakenshield #thorin fanfic #tolkien fanfic #the hobbit #true love #lord of the rings #middle earth #fantasy adventure

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julibf · 5 years

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WHY THE END OF GAME OF THRONES IS NOT WORKING FOR ME....

I told in some of my past metas, that I wrote after the show was done, why the ending was so unsatisfying and I am going to try to explain why here in some point. Its not because it was sad and heartbreaking, or some of our theories never really turned out to be true.

I am afraid to say, Its George RRM who is letting me down, not Benioff and Weiss. So lets start with the points that are making my head spin.

BRAN THE BROKEN KING

If accept Bran Stark as the final King of this story, I have to pretend I didnt read the past books A CLASH IF KINGS and a FEAST FOR CROWS, where we had very good contenders fighting for the Throne (Rob Stark, Renly Baratheon, Stannis Baratheon, Joffrey Baratheon, etc) Yes, some of those men were not so good from a moral point of view, but they brought strength, militar support, militar and political alliances, legitimate claims to the Throne...

I could go on and on and on. There is absolutely no reason for why would Yara Greyjoy would bend the knee to Brandon Stark and accept him as her leader and ruler; or the Prince of Dorne, or the Lords from the Westerlands. This choice is absolutely absurd and if you read the books you would know that picking a boy king, with no claim to the Throne or no powerful armies makes any sense at all. Whe we add the fact Bran had hardly any experience ruling or leading people during the 7 years of this story, this pic gets even more and more bizarre.Not to mention, I really dislike the idea that humans are incapable to control their own emotions, and because of that we must pick a God like creature with no emotions.

I understand George wanted a surprising ending and he wanted to go against the expectations, but this choice is an utopia. I cant get behind this choice. I am sorry.

TYRION HAND OF THE KING

Again, do I have to pretend I didnt read the books and actually know that being a Kingslayer is a very terrible sin to carry on Westeros??? Tyrion is not a beloved figure in this story, even before he killed his own father, Tywin Lannister.

Tyrion decision to kill his father, not only started the downfall of House Lannister, it also made the entire region of the Westerlands political weaker and more vulnerable to future attacks.He must be a very despised figure in the entire realm. Yet, he will be the second person in charge of Westeros??

At this point I am at loss of words. I have no idea what George is planning with this.

JON KILLING DAENERYS AS A LOVER IS A TERRIBLE IDEA.

Awful, terrible, horrible idea. Any way you slice, this was a terrible idea to end such amazing novel. Its corny, outdated and down right dangerous, considering we live in a world where females are at risk of being murdered by their male partners all the time.

This is such underwhelming decision, in a sea of underwhelming decisions that I am starting to think George was simply trying to make us all hate this ending.

We could have the realm raising in Rebelion against the Queen of Ashes; we could have second Dance of Dragons; We could have Arya using her underused superpowers as a Faceless men to kill Daenerys. No, we will have Jon Snow, still making excuses for Daenerys terrible behavior, begging her to start acting better???? telling her she will always be his queen while putting a dagger into her heart!!!

Again, this ending is coming from George himself. I cant really blame the D’s for this mess.

JON SNOW AND DAENERYS TARGARYEN ROMANCE WAS ANOTHER TERRIBLE IDEA.

Awful, terrible, horrible idea. Any way you slice, this was a terrible idea to end such amazing novel. If you dont believe Political Jon theory, then Jon Snow is just a completely fool, who fell in love with a tyrant, closed his eyes to all her terrible behavior and in the end was forced to kill the love of his life to save humanity. He is a idiot. and it breaks my heart that this is how Jon Snow will be remembered by audiences. Some people keep on telling me. “Oh, by, I dont think this is how George will write him, I think its going to be much better” But I have to say, I dont think it will.

I do believe Jon was playing Dany in the beginning of their romance and was manipulating her in order to use her dragons and armies to save the North, but I also believe that once he finds out she is his family too, he became a little torned between his Targ and Stark family. He is a family man in the end of the day and he must feel some sort of guilty for his actions towards D@ny.

I think that George will keep Political Jon hidden between the lines, just like the show did. He may write much better and be more obvious, but I dont think it will ever be revealed explicit to the audience. And this is what kills his character. If he doesnt reveal to the audience that Jon was playing Daenerys, than it seems Jon Snow never really learned anything from his past 10 years and it sucks!!

No matter how you slice it, if George will keep Jon’s actions hidden and make the audience believe he is madly in love with this entitled monster and will keep on defending her until the very end and this is the character assassination of Jon Snow.

If, he is madly in love with Dany and has to be told several times that he must kill her to save the world from her tyranny, he is an IDIOT who never learned a damn thing in his life. If he DOESNT love Dany, but out of duty still is loyal to her, and has to be told several times to kill her in order to save the world, he is an IDIOT who never fucking learns anything. I dont get what George is doing here. He is destroying the character he spend so much time bulding as a hero, but that's exactly what he wants to do it. Maybe there are NO HEROS. (what a shit message).

I wished Jon and Dany had been just allies and later became enemies. This would be a much better ending for both characters.

CHARACTERS ARCS THAT SEEMS POINTLESS BY THE END OF THE STORY....

Jaime can not put Cersei behind him and comes back to die with her in the end;

Jon Snow can never, ever, ever learn with his mistakes and is still struggling after so much pain and misery in his life, over duty and honour.

Jon Snow years and years learning to be a leader and ruler is absolutely pointless and he is sent back to the Wall, where he started???

Sansa, who dreamed about love and family all 5 novels, ends this story completely alone;

Arya, who desperate wanted to go back home since season 1, leaves once again, this time for good??? leaving her younger brother alone in the South (where Stark men dont do well), her sister alone in Winterfell and Jon all alone at the Wall. WHAT THE FUCK?????

Daenerys can never overcome her family tragedy of Fire and Blood, and becomes the monster her father was;

In fact, it seems that its impossible for humans to evolve and become better people than their parents, a God like creature must rule us all, otherwise we are lost. (I can not repeated enough times, what terrible message this ending is, and its no even true!!!!, we live in a world of no magic, and we were able to produce rules who brought us peace, progress and humanity.)

THE COMPLETE LACK OF JOY, LOVE AND HOPE....

What really got me by surprise in the end, it was how sterile and hopeless this entire story felt. George once said that he writes so much violence, deaths and rapes in his novels because it is part of real medieval life and would be a lie to avoid those themes in his books, but you know whats also real part of medieval life?? Marriages? Marriage alliances, happy normal ones, who produce children, heirs, LIFE, FUTURE!!!

Oh we had weddings on ASOIAF, but most of them ended in slaughter, death, rape, misery. I dont think we had one happy birth inthis entire story? Gilly had a child from her father rapist and Edmure was able to produce a child too, but his bride Roselin was actualy in tears when they had sex (because she was aware of the Red Wedding plans)

What a miserable tale this was. Our heros never really get to experience real joy. They never get to fullfill their childhood dreams. But they do get to be raped and abused, so, maybe thats ALL IT REALLY happened in the medieal times. Oh wait, its not tue, The War of the Roses ended with the marriage of Henry Tutor and Elizabeth of York. They had a very happy marriage and produced several children.

In our story, we dont get to have laughter, joy, happiness or hope for a future. We do get several pages of Theon being tortured and dismembered in the books; or Sansa being physically and mentally abused; or Jon being consumed by loneliness and grief. But I guess, thats all it happened in the medieval times, so..........

Funny thing is, you see, before the story started, marriages and children were a common occurence in Westeros. Ned and Cat had several children; Cersei and Robbert had 3; Lysa was able to produce a child too; The Tyrells keep on making babies, even God damn Lyanna Stark, who only spent a few months married to Rheagar, was able to had a child. What miracle, its almost like those events were normal facts in those days.

In our story, no House can produce children, even bastards!!! Jon, Theon and Tyrion had quite lots of sex during this story, yet no children was ever produced. Maybe all men in Westeros became sterile, once ASOIAF started it.

AS YOU SEE....

By the end of the day, I am disappointed in George, not really the TV show, which is even more sadder. I think he wrote a very beautiful story, but his ending is taking away all my joy for those characters and this novel. I know he wanted avoid the expected and subvert the expectations, but he is shooting his own story in their foot. And its braking my heart.

What terrible way to end such fascinating tale...

“[Bran] will be a good ruler bc he’s inhuman - which is a very depressing message. GoT was always about the struggle between human good & human evil w/in each person. Bran being king suggests that the solution to human evil isn’t human good, it’s being not human.”

ALT SHIFT X described in great words, how I felt about this ending, and you could sense his disappointment in the final message of this story too. It's was an extremely nihlistic ending. Westeros hasn't changed in facts it's worse politically.

A SONG OF ICE ANF FIRE VS LORD OF THE RINGS....

Now, lets compare this to LORD OF THE RINGS ending, who also got a bittersweet ending. Remember, George RRM is always comparing those stories and believes he is having a conversation to Tolkien.

Honest to God, in comparison LOTR looks like a Disney movie. It has a beautiful coronation ceremony, humanity came together to save the world from evil, and THEY TRIUMPHED!!!! There is JOY, LOVE, HOPE. Aragorn is King of the Reunited Kingdom, the people love and admire him (can we say the same about King Bran?) .

He marries his childhood love, Arwen and produce an heir. This brings hope and a sense of future for the reader. This story is uplifting, its inspiring, its quite frankly, a good story.

Its impossible not feel good about this story and the ending is one of the reasons this story has touched so many people, from all over the world and has remained a classic. Because, the tale of humanity coming together to defeat the evil is a theme that its always occurring in our life times. This is something that Tolkien experienced personally, having to fight in the WWII.

The nazis were defeated because several countries, put aside their differences and fought for the good of humanity and yes, it is possible. And after WWII we actually managed to achieve a lot of humans rights for several people who were considered less in the early century.

In GOT there was no joy or celebration, no weddings to form new alliances; to make peace; no births to bring new heirs, to bring a hope for the future. In fact, most wedding in the show were always associated with death and pain. Death and pain, yes, there was a lot of death and pain in ASOAIF. Thats all it has to offer the reader and viewer? Death, pain and misery??

I understand that George wanted to do the different and not give what the reader really wanted. But I have to be honest to you, in my opinion, this was a unfulfilling, uninspiring, unpleasant story. I said a few times, i have no desire to re read those long books. This story brought me no joy. And I understand that, stories are not obliged to bring us joy, but, they are supposed to make sense. And, I just dont think the ending made a lot of sense for those who read the books. Hey, maybe that was our mistake. Hee

What sad story :/

#jonsa #sansa stark #jon and sansa #season 8 #game of thrones

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acelucky · 5 years

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Sailing into the Past

Pairing: Bilbo x Thorin Warnings: A little angst Word Count: 2,887

Summary: Before sailing into the West, Bilbo has some time to reflect in Rivendell. His thoughts are often with one particular Dwarf, but when Pippin questions him on how his adventure changes him, memories and emotions come flooding in and Bilbo hopes on this new adventure he will be reunited with his love.

I loved writing this (although it made me a little sad) I wrote it as part of my work for NaNoWriMo 2018. Usually my Hobbit/lord of the rings material ends up 'Mature/Explicit' so I was happy with it!

I took a few liberties with story-line/plot points etc to make this fit, but I think it works okay!

Merry and Pippin stood side by side, looking into the mirror, studying their own reflections. Whilst only a short period of time had passed when considering the life span of hobbits since setting out from The Shire, they both appeared weathered and years older than they were. Decades even Pippin would say, though Frodo would laugh and accuse Pippin of exaggerating as he often did.

“You don’t suppose things can go back to how they were before, do you Merry?”

Merry turned to his friend, “No Pippin, I think that ship has long since sailed.”

Pippin smiled a sorrowful smile, “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“But dear friend, we’re alive and can enjoy all the food, ale and smoking our hearts desire,” he nudged Pippin who laughed in response and put his arm around the other.

“Yes, that is what I can live for.”

“I wonder will our lives ever go back to how they were before?” Pippin asked, a little amount of trepidation evident in the way he spoke.

Merry searched his face in the mirror, he wanted to lie to Pippin, to offer some release from the worry that plagued him, but felt unable to, “No, not entirely at least, but that isn’t a bad thing.”

Pippin nodded, he didn’t need to say anything further. Since returning to The Shire from their adventure life had indeed been different. Some folk acted the same as if they’d never been away, others as if they’d seen a ghost. But it was hard to go about one’s gardening or cooking in quite the same way as they had before. They both thought of Boromir often, to loose someone so dear to them and have to continue without them was a struggle only the other knew.

Now they were back in Rivendell, Gandalf had invited the four hobbits along to say goodbye to Bilbo as well as himself, Elrond and Galadriel. Their small merry party was now a sorrowful one, though they did not regret coming on one last little adventure.

They both turned from the mirror and walked out onto the balcony.

“I don’t think we’ll ever see anywhere as beautiful as this,” Merry sighed as he admired the view and pulled out his pipe.

Pippin, ever curious, ever the innocent looked up at Merry, “But what about The Shire.”

Merry took a puff on his pipe and patted Pippin on the shoulder, “Yes Pippin, I think home might beat this.”

Bilbo was sat close to them on the edge of the balcony with his eyes closed on a bench, his hands were on his walking stick. He was smiling, clearly enjoying the peace the Elven realm had to offer.

Merry and Pippin approached carefully, afraid to scare the much older hobbit and wanting to remain respectful as they did so. They sat on a bench next to him, Bilbo’s nose twitched as he sensed their presence.

“Hello my dear boys.”

Bilbo opened his eyes and smiled fondly at the hobbits, “Care to join me for a smoke?” They both nodded in agreement and the three of them sat staring out at the waterfall in silence for a moment as they smoked.

“Bilbo,” As Pippin spoke Merry shot him a warning look.

“Yes?” Bilbo sounded frail as he spoke.

“You’ve been on a great adventure yourself, how did it change you? Did you lose people too?”

“Ahhh dear boy,” there was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke that seemed to the others like it might be tears.

“I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped a line,” Pippin jumped off the bench.

“Not at all, it changes you, yes, how could it not?” Bilbo spoke slowly, he himself shuffled forward on the bench and then hobbled over to the ledge. “Ahh I remember the first time I came here, I never thought I would see something so beautiful and was sure I would never see something as beautiful again…”

“And did you?” Merry asked.

“No, I saw a great many wonders, beauty beyond compare and yet, nothing came close to this.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his hands rested on the marble, there was a sorrow in his voice of the likes the hobbits had not heard before.

“And loss,” He turned to them, “Yes, I know all about loss.” He looked beyond them, deep in thought, caught up in his memory of things that had been, things that were and the memories he would never know.

He thought of Thorin Oakenshield, his bronzed skin, the way he imagined he would have looked working in a kiln. He thought of the last time he saw him, of the party tree that grew back in Hobbiton.

Tears welled in Bilbo’s eyes as he remembered the promised they had made to one another in the shadows, how he knew he had softened the dwarf’s heart. They had kissed just once, cuddled into one another, the nights were long and cold, dangerous too. So no one could have questioned how close they were to each other or blamed them for that closeness. The kiss had been the kindest he had ever known, soft, loving, Thorin’s beard scratched against his smooth skin. Bilbo would have done anything in that moment to have felt it once more. He would have forsaken his own life had it meant he could have spent a single other evening with him.

His thoughts then went to Kili and Fili, two brave young souls who were taken from the world far too young. Was that the price of war? The price of power, such a loss, such a pity. He felt himself shake at the mere thought of their faces, the smell, the way they’d braided one another’s hair. It felt like a lifetime ago that he had fed an apple to Bill the pony and talked nonsense to him at night. That he had taken a bowl of Bombur’s fabulous stew to the two Princes, and they had watched the trolls. He thought of the dwarf spit above the fire, of Smaug, a dragon, a hobbit facing off a dragon! Fancy that! He thought of the splendour of Elven halls and Dwarven halls, of Thranduil riding a great, silver elk.

He thought of all of the dwarves, how long it had been since he had seen their faces. Gandalf had informed him of the deaths of Balin and Ori, his heart had broken then. He had gone a life time believing he couldn’t have stood any further grieve, but the ring had protected him from all that pain, shielded him from the real world.

“Bilbo?”

Bilbo opened his eyes and saw Merry and Pippin stood either side of him, a hand gently on each of his arms.

Bilbo shed a tear, “Sorry lads, didn’t mean to get lost in my thoughts, that adventure I went on. I told the story so well to all the children, I told them of all the fun, excitement, all the good bits. But ahhh the bits I missed out, the things I always tried to protect others from. Yes, dear boys, I know all about loss, what it is like to lose some of your closest, dearest friends, to lose the person you hold most dearest in the world.”

“We’re sorry Bilbo.”

“Ahhh it was a lifetime ago, and now I prepare to sail into the Grey Havens, maybe perhaps there I will finally find peace and be able to close this chapter of my life.”

“How do you deal with it?”

Merry shot Pippin another warning glance, “The grief I mean, how do you live with it?”

Bilbo shuffled a little on the spot and then smiled fondly, “By holding onto the memories, by holding onto those you love, by holding onto one another. Nothing lasts forever, everything comes to pass in the end and that my dears is a great comfort to me. You get through it because you must, you survive because instinct tells you to and because others need you. For the most part of my older life I was somewhat of a recluse, true, I wasn’t overly fond of others at times and loved my books a little too much, just like when I was young. But… three things got me through.”

Merry and Pippin hung on his every word, expecting the answer to their woes to fall from his lips.

“Firstly, I watched the oak tree grow, I planted that acorn when I got back from my adventure and every year it grew little by little. That has been one of my greatest joys and sources of comfort, watching something grow which I had given birth to in a sense. Secondly, Frodo, my dear nephew, watching him grow, telling him and all the other children of my adventures, that was another source of comfort to me. Thirdly, my book, writing about my adventures and especially reliving the best bits, that gave me a great comfort.”

Bilbo started to walk, “Come with me, let us go speak with Elrond and he shall console you further, as once he did to me.”

The two hobbits walked alongside Bilbo, helping him to walk, in his old age he struggled so they took an arm each and steadied him.

“Bilbo there you are!” Frodo’s optimistic voice called across.

“Ahhh come join us on our walk my dear boys.”

Frodo and Sam joined the others, the five hobbits happily walking in silence for some time, just happy to be in one another’s company and listen to the sound of the running river and birds high in the trees.

“There you are,” Gandalf’s voice boomed across at them, there was no anger in his voice however, he just seemed tired now and older than before. He looked with fondest at the oldest hobbit, tilted his head to the side and smiled, “Come Bilbo, it is time.”

Bilbo nodded in agreement, his hand reaching out for Gandalf’s. They followed him to a carriage, there were just a few ready to sail out to the final boat.

As he sat in the carriage he pulled his blanket up around him, it was the same blanket he and Thorin had used all those moons ago. He knew there was no way he could still smell the great Dwarven King and yet he would still pull it up to his nose and inhale deeply. For it made him feel safe.

His only hopes from life now were that he could sleep forever and in his dreams be reunited with his only love. The thought of seeing Thorin again, of his warm embrace, the smile he had, stroking his hair, made him weep.

He hoped that in the next world he would appear in the great halls under the lonely mountain, there would be tables covered in food and wine, glowing candles and the riches were not that of silver nor gold, but of friendship and love. The kind that warmed your heart to your belly and your very soul.

“Bilbo, you have changed me,” Thorin’s words echoed in Bilbo’s mind. He had to shake his head as if trying to get rid of them, it wasn’t a bad memory, just painful and he didn’t want the other hobbits to see him sad.

Bilbo felt like nothing in Thorin’s arms, weightless, as a feather carried by a great, rapid current. Thorin was the storm that raged and Bilbo was the calm ocean after a storm.

“If we make it out of this alive, I will smother you with riches beyond your wildest dreams.”

Bilbo had shaken his head to this, “No, Thorin, I don’t want riches of that nature, I only want you,” he wrinkled his nose, “I’ve spent my whole life wondering about love, whether I would ever find it or not. I always thought I was a little strange, everyone else seemed so happy, crazy in love even…. and yet there were many pretty hobbits, beautiful women, I enjoyed to look at them, they were pleasing on the eye you see, the same way a well arranged garden is or a warm hearth. I loved many women, but not in the way you read about in story books… I thought I would never find love, but you, the moment I saw you back in Bag End I just, anything that was frozen inside me was instantly melted.”

Thorin had stroked his hair, “I cannot imagine you with a frozen heart at all.”

Bilbo nodded, “It’s true you know.”

Thorin chuckled, “No, I won’t have it, not my Bilbo,” he leant forward and rubbed his nose against Bilbo’s.

They had spent one night laid by one another’s side, when the others weren’t looking they would steal glances at one another, small smiles, the kind of facial expression that others could easily miss. There was a point when Bilbo thought Fili and Kili might have guessed, they noticed the looks between their Uncle and the hobbit and had given one another knowing glances before whispering away from the others so no one else could hear.

The day at Erebor when Thorin ordered the others to take Bilbo’s life for stealing the Arkenstone had nearly broken Bilbo’s heart. Even now, after all of these years when he thought back on it he felt a great sorrow that in the end even his love wasn’t quite enough to break the terrible spell that had taken ahold of his love.

The way Thorin’s voice had changed, the anger in it, the sound of portrayal. Bilbo had begged, had wished that Thorin would see he had made the choices he had to protect the dwarf, for Thorin was behaving as no good King would. Bilbo had done it to save him, he believed that in his dying moments realisation had washed over Thorin and he knew this to be true.

The moment Thorin’s eyes had closed, Bilbo wished the world could have sucked him up, taken him with him. A world without that adventure, without the happy ending that Thorin had promised him, barely seemed like a life he wanted to live.

But then there was Gandalf, Gandalf had given him the strength he needed to return him and continue with his life, to write down his tale so that Thorin, Fili and Kili would live in forever, so that their story would pass into the halls of fame and through the valley of Kings.

Bilbo’s thoughts kept him company during the short journey to the shoreline. Dismounting from the carriage, Bilbo stared at Frodo, Samwise, Merry and Pippin, he wondered how they felt when they returned home for the first time. Did their homes seem as empty as his had? Did material possessions now seem worthless to them as they had to him? He pitied them in a way and in anther he felt glad, they had their wholes lives ahead of them and plenty of joy to come, more adventures, love, they would have the chance to move on from whatever terrors they had seen.

When he arrived in the white harbour he had the same reaction he had had when he saw both Rivendell and Erebor for the first time, he was blown away by it’s beauty. The ship that was awaiting for him was a gorgeous, carved, elven ship. Galadriel, Celeborn and Elrond were waiting for him with open arms.

He turned back to the hobbits one last time and gave them a frail hug, “So how has home been?”

They smiled fondly at him, with tears in their eyes, “It has changed and we are not the same, but just as you said, the memories of one another and each other’s love, that is what keeps us going,” Pippin said as he hugged Bilbo farewell.

Gandalf looked at Bilbo with a melancholy look, “Go on now my dear friend, let us sail together.”

“Yes I quite think I am ready for another adventure.”

Gandalf gave Frodo a knowing look and bowed, “Frodo, it is time.”

There was unexpected sorrow then, Merry, Pippin and Samwise wept for having to say goodbye to their dearest friend. But in their hearts they had always known this was what lay ahead in their future, that for them life may return to what was before or at least as close as it could. That while they were changed, there was a chance for them to live a normal, though wiser and richer life. But for Frodo, since Weathertop there could be no going back, not really. So in the end, they made their peace for they knew it was right.

Bilbo took Frodo’s hand in his own after the younger hobbit had said his goodbyes and turned to the elves. Walking slowly up to them, in his mind he heard Galadriel talk to him secretly, “The great thing about sailing into the West, is you never know who might be waiting for you when you get there.”

As Bilbo stepped onto the ship he could swear he heard a voice, “Come home to me Bilbo, come home, I am waiting, the hearth is hot, there is more mead than myself or my nephews could ever manage to drink and there is food fit for a hero.”

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ironforgedrp · 4 years

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♛ RHAENA LANNISTER

↳ details; female, 27 (born during the sixth moon of the year 478) ↳ status; bisexual, married, mother to prince aemos lannister ↳ faceclaim; emilia clarke ↳ hails from; king’s landing, the crownlands ↳ loyalty; house targaryen, the iron throne

↳ official title; queen rhaena lannister, queen of the andals, the rhoynar, and the first men, lady of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm. ↳ unofficial title/s; the dragon queen, the silver dragon, queen of the united kingdoms & the iron throne.

↳ religion; faith of the seven ↳ magical ability; dragon dreams ↳ spoken languages; the common tongue, fluent in high & low valyrian and close to fluent in dothraki ↳ reason for being in sunspear; to join the summit in her own right and in support of her husband

♛ PERSONALITY

↳ type; protagonist (enfj-t) ↳ alignment; chaotic good ↳ star sign; cancer ↳ positives; passionate, charismatic, kindhearted, dutiful, protective ↳ negatives; capricious, emotional, fiery temper, pensive, vigilant

♛ BIOGRAPHY

↳ family lineage.

rhaena was born in king’s landing king maegor and queen victaria, the youngest and only daughter to join the targaryen royal family, sister to the older prince baelor who would one day become king baelor, the third of his name. she had a happy childhood in the capital, one with barely any worries and endless days of being spoiled rotten which only fuelled her already hot temper. despite it, she grew up knowing her role in life, accepting that it was all set in stone for her and that a good marriage was her future. her brother would become king after her father’s death and she would likely wed one of the prospective great lords to strengthen an alliance. in addition to learning to master the traditional duties of a princess and lady, she was also schooled in diplomacy to prepare for her future as the key to an important alliance as well as studying languages. both were requests she proposed herself as she was inspired by the work of her father. she admired his diplomacy, skills and ideas. rhaena grew up idolising her father and brother, she did their bidding without much questioning, although she did have her own opinions about certain things and these were always encouraged by her father. rhaena was the ideal little princess, dutiful, easy to love and eager to please.

not long after her first moonblood, something started to happen to the young woman. she suffered from terrible nightmares that left her terrified and shaken. most of her dreams involved dragons, but they were always falling from great heights, crashing into the ground with such a force it left the whole ground shaking from the impact. these dreams seemed too real for comfort and left her restless, so much so that she started struggling with insomnia as she was afraid to close her eyes and invite the nightmare in. it took a long time before she was told of the nature of dragon dreams and its link with house targaryen. rhaena was upset when she learned her mother had forbidden anyone from teaching her about dragon dreams and the power of them - even though her mother had only forbidden it in order to shield rhaena from the worry such an ability would bring. the princess did indeed start to worry as her dreams could not possibly bode well for house targaryen, that it might be a sign of madness.

although encouraged to travel and see more of the realm, rhaena rarely left king’s landing as she always felt uneasy leaving her home behind. but she dreamed endlessly about the places she had been taught about. the north and its untamed beauty, highgarden with its sweet perfume of roses, both places she had wanted to go as a child. yet she was afraid that if she left king’s landing then somehow house targaryen would fall, that those dreams she had would come true and the dragons would be no more. instead of combatting her fears, she stayed put where she had grown up and tried to enjoy life the same way she had as a child, but the innocence and naivety of the past were long gone.

during her teenage years, she met falhar fanghorn whose father was close to her own and they eventually became more than best friends. they asked the late king to give his blessing for them to wed, but he was hesitant as he felt rhaena could make a better match to a future great lord. however, king maegor did not wish to see his daughter miserable, so he promised her that if she had not found another match by twenty-five, she could marry falhar.

all of that changed with her brother’s unexpected suicide, an apparent consequence of targaryen madness, which led to rhaena’s world crumbling around her. suddenly the planned life she had grown to completely accept disappeared, those dreams of dragons falling from mighty heights that had haunted her for so long came true. she was meant to be the king’s sister, nothing more than that, and she had accepted that fact a long time ago. she suddenly had to adjust to being the heir herself while dealing with her own grief and had to quickly marry in order to keep the peace in the realm which led to her unwanted marriage to arryk lannister, the eldest son of tristifer lannister, the ruling lord of casterly rock. before speaking her vows, her father declared arryk would become the ruling king and she was to be only his wife, the mother of a royal lannister heir.

for a long while, she accepted the power of the realm formally shifting to another house as her house had cast itself from power as a consequence of her brother’s refusal of the throne, she was clever enough to understand that. unlike her brother, she did her duty and married to protect the realm from being torn apart by uprising and war. but during her pregnancy, she started having doubts about the future of the crown, of what name the heirs to come should bear. despite her initial silent acceptance, she still felt very much like a targaryen, she’d much rather wear embroidered dragons than lions on her fine dresses. after all, her husband was only king because of their marriage. had she refused the union the way to the throne for house lannister would have been riddled with war and destruction instead, and victory would never have been a guarantee. as time passed, this became harder for rhaena to accept and it made her feel torn between the house she married into and her house of birth. she had hoped her child would bring her a peace of mind, but once he was brought into the world, she only felt even more divided than before as her son with silver hair and soft features looked the part of a targaryen.

to celebrate the birth of their son and heir, the king and queen invited the nobles of the realm to king’s landing. rhaena worked tirelessly to get their keep, meals and the chambers ready for all the guests. it all went fine for a couple of days, but then trouble with the dothraki meant rhaena had to ride out to their camp and negotiate with them, she succeeded though not without getting hurt in the process. after her blow to the head, she only began having more dragon dreams and becoming more of an insomniac. when the kidnappings began, she was still suffering from the effects of her head wound, but found no time to deal with it as nobles disappeared and kingdoms turned their back on the iron throne, which enraged the queen and brought out that fiery temper, she believed had disappeared with age.

after that, the kidnappings happened to her friends, family and people who had worked with her. the pain of not knowing whether they were alive or dead changed her, she became more ruthless, more convinced the traitors would start a war, not now but in the future, when her son would be the one to deal with it. and then the barrowton starks took her son. despite the fact, aemos survived the ordeal and she did not have to sacrifice her title for his safety, she has been left with deep wounds. she was still licking those wounds when finally all their guests left. she became calmer as she was left alone with her family, although she could be found yearning for the new friends she had made, particularly lord mormont who she formed a strong bond with, but healing slowly began and her wounds turned to scars. unfortunately, these scars were ripped open in the last moon of 505 when she suffered an early miscarriage. she had been traumatised enough to convince herself that she wanted no more children, afraid they would be stolen too and she would have to suffer once more, but once she found out she was with child, she felt nothing but joy. all of that was taken away in an instant as she woke up with blood staining her bed. she locked herself away for a while and only perked up when aemos’ first nameday rolled around soon after.

despite still trying to come to terms with all the horrors she suffered through in the year of 505, she has decided the new year is a fresh start and it will be the year to right everything that has gone wrong.

↳ personality.

rhaena has become quite infamous for her fiery temper lately. some would say her anger is erratic, even speaking of targaryen madness, while others believe it is only the result of passion after suffering injustice and many losses in her life. she is trying to combat this nature, knowing such a reputation could be a dangerous one. but she is more than her anger and a strong sense of what is right and wrong. she is a caring friend, a devoted mother and a queen that is simply trying to what is right for her people, for her family and for the two houses she belongs to.

while dutiful to a fault when she was younger, she is feeling that she is slowly going astray as the scars inflicted upon her soul and the new friends she has made has started to change her as they inspire new sides of her. rhaena has lost so much to duty and she is determined to live more than she did before. after all, doing everything by the book has not granted her anything but treason, hurt and disappointment.

↳ the splitting of the kingdoms.

it took a long time before rhaena accepted the splitting of the kingdoms, in truth she still has not fully accepted it, but after all the guests left king’s landing, she found herself with the peace of mind to properly deal with it.

while she is more open now to negotiations than before, as a consequence of time passing and some of the new royals’ part in rescuing her son, the queen has made it clear that the way the kingdoms split was nothing short of treason. in public, she wishes to use this as a way to negotiate better deals for the kingdoms she rules over alongside her husband as a way for the split kingdoms to pay their debt and she has come to sunspear with that view. but secretly, she is still not dismissing of re-conquering the traitorous kingdoms and her overall ambition is to see them back under the rule of the iron throne, but rhaena has hatched no concrete plans as of yet and has shared her true view with no one but lord fanghorn, the master of war, and her husband. if an opportunity arises in sunspear to go down this path, she might pursue it.

rhaena believes the summit will only end in chaos, which is why she - with the support of her husband - has brought a small army of guards with her to protect her family, ladies-in-waiting, friends and servants.

♛ STATUS: TAKEN.

#mai.#taken.#taken female.#crownlands.#House Targaryen.#House Lannister.#( queue )

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thetimelesscycle · 5 years

Text

The Hobbit Fanfic: The Heart of Erebor - Chapter 65

Summary: ‘He could stand the wild light in his uncle’s gaze. He withstood the crazed glint that entered the ravenous stares of his companions. He endured seeing the dragon’s greed take them all. But when that madness seeped also into the eyes of his own beloved brother, he knew something had to be done. He just wasn’t expecting it to be this.’-The gold sickness of Erebor claims one more, and the path of destiny is irrevocably changed.

Inspired by the following quote from ‘The Hobbit’: “So grim had Thorin become, that even if they had wished, the others would not have dared to find fault with him; but indeed most of them seemed to share his mind-except perhaps old fat Bombur and Fili and Kili.”

*Cover Art Courtesy of Toastytoastie

/THE HEART OF EREBOR\

ACT VI -The King Beneath the Mountain-

Chapter 65

The Madness of Hope

It seemed strange to think that it had been less than a year ago that Kìli had stood upon the wall above Erebor’s shattered gate, believing all he had ever loved in the world was about to come to a violent and terrible end. He had been alone, abandoned and friendless, more afraid than he had ever been in his life, and certain that he was about to die. The despair he had felt in that moment remained engraved in his heart as one of the worst moments of his short life, and the days that had followed it had been no better, filled with grief and loss and pain.

And yet, it was just an echo now, an event that had been and gone. A past that felt far more distant than the short, intervening months should have allowed. He was doing his best to overlay such fading recollections with new memories, happier memories, not just for himself, but for those around him as well.

Some days it was easier than others. When wounds still raw were not yet open and weeping, and he could be enough to wrench a smile from beneath Fìli’s preoccupied frown, or to scatter the dark clouds that formed over his uncle’s head, to chase away the haunting memories that gripped his mother. Other days the events of the past were a weight they all felt, a veritable hammer above all their heads, just waiting for the opportune moment to pound them into the anvil of cruel fate.

The battles they had survived had left their scars, and he knew they would take time to fade; to heal.

Thorin’s coronation would go a long way towards accomplishing that, or so he hoped. Their victory certainly felt more certain now that the crown was resting upon his uncle’s brow. Now that oaths had been sworn and old alliances reformed. He was proud to have played a part in that, no matter how small that part might have been in the grand scheme of things. Proud of what they had accomplished, rising from the ashes of wrath and ruin to restore the Line of Durin to its rightful place amidst the Seven. Had this been one of Balin’s epics, the adventure would have ended the moment Thorin took his rightful place upon the throne. Sadly, if this quest had taught him anything at all, it was that the stories of old only ever told half the tale.

His own experiences had given him a new appreciation for the moments that the historians forgot. Those events deemed unimportant by the scholars who chose to study such things, dismissed in favour of great battles and the speeches that followed them. There would no doubt be countless retellings of the celebration that had marked the return of Erebor’s king, each more ridiculous than the last, especially with the inclusion of their elven guests. But he doubted anyone would remember him slipping away from the gathering, confident his absence would not be noticed with the festivities in full swing, to seek a moment’s solitude and reflection in what was swiftly becoming one of his favourite haunts.

The view from the wall above Erebor’s gate was a world away from what it had been months before. Gone was the pool of dammed water, meant to hold the war camp that had lain further down the valley at bay. Gone were the dotted gatherings of campfires, the sound of voices and metal carried on the wind. Gone was the terrible aftermath, the rows upon rows of dead and the stench of the wounded and the dying. Peace had slowly crept in to take the place of it all, nature gently wiping away the blood spilt upon its back, until nothing remained to speak of the tragedies that had unfolded in this place.

Where once the sight had brought him nothing but dread, Kíli could now take comfort in the vista laid out on the mountain’s doorstep. It was a sign of healing. A sign that, no matter the suffering that had passed here, time marched ever onwards, knitting over old wounds, bringing new hope to lift the afflicted from the mire of tragedy’s aftermath. He needed that faith right now as much as he had needed it then, a light to cling to, a vision of the future he could lay before others when darkness ensnared their thoughts and despair sunk its claws in deep.

Perched upon the parapet’s edge, his heels drumming an irregular beat against the stone seams, he let himself revel in the tranquility. It had been a long time since he had had a chance to simply sit and think, the world flowing peaceably by, and he intended to make the most of the moment while it lasted. Below him the celebration would continue, not stopping until well after the sun began to peek over the horizon. He did not begrudge them that, they had earned the right to their revelry, but he did not feel the need to join them. His victory was a quieter triumph, one he hoped he would be able to enjoy for years to come.

“There you are,” Fìli’s voice interrupted his musings, his brother’s uneven stride accompanied by the ‘thwap’ of his cane on the stone floor, and Kìli frowned briefly, wondering when Fìli had found time to retrieve it, and why he hadn’t asked someone to assist him up the stairs. His brother was not likely to appreciate either enquiry, however, so he held his tongue, keeping his gaze turned outwards as Fìli crossed the space between them. “You’re missing Bofur’s rousing rendition of The Cat Jumped Over the Moon.”

Kìli snorted, easily able to picture what such a thing would entail. He had, after all, seen it before. “A request from Elrohir?”

“Well, he did miss the original performance whilst we were in Rivendell.” Coming to stand beside him, Fìli leant his forearms on the wall, taking some of the weight off his bad leg. He waited a beat, letting the gentle breeze fill the space between them, then he asked, “What’s bothering you, Ki?”

“Nothing.” At his brother’s sharp look, he elaborated. “I really mean that, Fìli. Nothing is wrong right now. We’ve won. Erebor is at peace, Thorin has been crowned, and I… I think maybe I just wanted a moment to let that sink in. We’ve been so busy trying to make sure that everything else goes smoothly that there just hasn’t been time to… to… to just be.”

“I know what you mean.” Fìli nodded, his words a murmur. “It’s been months, and yet sometimes this still doesn’t feel real. Like a dream that could end at any minute.”

“I’m sure it will seem real enough once we actually have to take part in ruling Erebor,” Kìli interjected lightly, unwilling to surrender his hardwon sense of peace. “All those letters to write and documents to sign. My hand is aching just thinking about it.” That earned him an amused look, which he returned, before continuing in a more thoughtful vein, “In many ways, tonight is an ending, and not just for Bilbo’s book.”

Fìli cast him a curious look, head tilted ever so slightly to the side. “What do you mean?”

“We set out from Ered Luin to reclaim our home,” Kìli reminded him, rubbing his hands together in his lap. “To take back a mountain from a dragon. It sounded simple enough to us at the time, I’m sure, and it could be argued that that journey ended when Smaug was slain. But I don’t think Erebor was ours again, not truly, until today.”

“You think you’ll be happy, then?” Fìli enquired, his tone mild, but his words earnest. “Calling Erebor home now?”

“My family is home.” Kìli shot him a wry grin. “It really doesn’t matter where we live.”

“Even if it means being a proper prince?” His brother challenged, and Kìli laughed.

“Even then. I think I’m starting to understand that there are worse fates.”

Fìli was silent for a long moment, staring out into the night, and his words, when they came, were almost a confession. “I don’t know if I can look at it the way you do. Sometimes… Sometimes this all feels like a prison, and I don’t know if that will ever change. Everyone says it will just take time, but…”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Kìli ventured, unsure if Fìli wanted him to speak, or was simply airing his fears aloud. “And you don’t have to stay, Fì. If going back to Ered Luin would help, or paying a visit to Rivendell, then that is what you should do. Erebor doesn’t have to come first.”

“And that is why you are not going to be king,” Fìli teased him, if weakly. “Your priorities are all askew.”

“I am going to be your advisor,” Kìli reached across to swat his sibling lightly on the head. “And that gives me leave, oh future king, to rearrange your priorities however I please.”

Fìli raised an eyebrow at him, incredulous. “I do not see that working for Balin.”

“Yes, well, we both know Uncle Thorin is far too stubborn for such a strategy to be effective.”

“Oh.” Now he was affecting offence. “And I am more easily persuaded?”

“Of course. I will simply fill your room with boxes of apples fresh from Dale’s orchards and you will be halfway to Rivendell before you can say ‘burglar’.”

“Apples?” Fìli groaned. “Kìli, how could you betray me like this? Throwing your lot in with my one, true nemesis.”

“And here I was thinking that was stairs.”

“Hey.” Fìli’s indignant shove nearly sent his brother tumbling right off the wall. Laughing, Kìli overcompensated, falling backwards instead to land at his elder’s feet. Fìli glared down at him, imperious, and that only made him laugh harder until Fìli let out an annoyed huff and lowered himself down to sit beside his sibling. “You are an ass.”

Still chuckling, Kìli reached out to pat Fìli’s knee in only half mocking apology, before settling back with both his arms behind his head. His shoulder twinged slightly at the motion, but it was a passing pain, easily ignored as he let his eyes settle on the starlit sky above. Fìli was only a moment in joining him, the sigh that escaped his lips one of contentment more than sorrow, and Kìli was willing to let the silence stretch, a blanket of comfortable familiarity between them both.

He had meant what he said. Tonight was an ending. The end of the quest to reclaim Erebor, the end of so many fears; so many battles and old, untended wounds. The end of one chapter, and yet the beginning of another. The next day would dawn with Thorin as Erebor’s King, with Fìli and Kìli as princes and councillors officially sworn into their new roles. There would be decisions to make, meetings to attend, alliances to cement, duties to uphold. It should have terrified him, the weight of responsibility upon his - upon their - shoulders, but he was not afraid.

The Line of Durin had survived dragon fire, had survived madness and death and treachery. Though the challenges that lay before them were great, Kìli was surprised to realise that they no longer daunted him as they once had. Something had shifted, in the moment Thorin had been crowned, or before that even, when he had placed the Arkenstone in the hands of his fallen uncle and felt the rightness of that choice. He had no doubt that there would be further mistakes going forward, choices that would gnaw away at him, reminding him of the lives he was responsible for, the duties a Son of Durin could not escape.

But he was not alone.

That which he had sacrificed to try and save had been restored to him, a reward for his faith, a lesson learned and remembered. He had been prepared to give the Arkenstone away like a worthless trinket because he was afraid of losing that which he held most dear, and in so doing he had uncovered the true Heart of the Mountain. It was not the jewel that had so bewitched Thror and Thorin after him, or the gold that ran in rivers within the treasuries of the king. No, the beating heart of the Lonely Mountain was to be found in the merrymaking taking place in the Great Hall, in the laughter ringing out from every corner, in the quiet that had settled over he and his brother, restful and content. These moments, and the bonds that forged them, were what gave Erebor life; riches that could never be measured or bought.

It had taken him a long time to realise that simple truth, to understand that that was what he was sworn to protect, as a Son of Durin, a Prince of Erebor. He would never be a ruler with the power and authority that Thorin wielded, nor did he have Fìli’s sense of duty and calm steadiness, but he was beginning to realise that lack was not the failing he had always assumed it to be. The Seven may well have been right in their assertions that he would have made a poor king, caring too much for one thing and too little for the other, but he didn’t need to be what they thought he should be.

He had been spared the gold sickness because he had no use for wealth. He had given the Arkenstone away because Thorin and Fìli and the Company were simply more important in his eyes. He had turned his back on his birthright to gamble instead on the slim chance his kinsmen were alive. He had sought aid from those considered to be the enemy without a second’s thought. He had made so many choices that had caused others to shake their heads in scorn or despair or both. And yet… he could not regret the future those choices had brought him. A future that might never have been had he listened to the words of others. Had he chosen to believe as they did, and abandon a course of action they had deemed madness.

And it had been. He recognised that now. Not gold sickness or the dragon’s curse or grief or rage, but his own kind of insanity. To trust in good fortune in lands that had long been abandoned by the same. To believe when all others beliefs had died. To dare to stand against the tide and rage at the abyss… what else was that but madness? A year ago, he had sat atop this same wall and wished that he could share in the sickness that had taken his friends from him, his family. He had known it was wrong, but he had wished it all the same, never once realising that the curse of Erebor's treasure had found no foothold in his mind because another madness had already preceded it. So he could ask himself the same question again now; Was it wrong to wish for madness? And the answer, too, would be unchanged.

Yes.

Yes, it was.

For madness had already taken him.

The madness of hope.

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pretty-much-just-a-hot-mess · 7 years

Text

Marked

Day 6: Soulmate

Word Count- 3053

Ned thanked the Old Gods every morning when he awoke that it was traditional to hide one's soul mark, and the Jon’s was in such an easy to hide spot. Just as he gave thanks that North had won out, covering Jon’s true heritage so well. But all the dark hair and grey eyes in the world would not have saved him if Robert ever caught wind of the dragon above his son’s heart. When he had first held Jon, there in that cursed tower where his sister breathed her last, he had thought it a cruel joke from the Gods. He had seen what happened to Jon’s siblings, what other dragons were there for this lost prince to know, let alone love? Later, when news of the little Targaryen Princess reached him at Winterfell, he thought maybe the joke turned a different way. If he wanted the boy to live, he could never meet the girl Ned was sure bore his mark.

Jon himself thought of his mark very little. He had given up all hope of a family of his own the day he learned what his last name truly meant. The dragon that guarded his heart was just further proof of his unworthiness. What good could possibly come of meeting the woman who matched him, when the image on his breast, growing more clear each day, just proved he would never be worthy of her. She was a princess, and he was a bastard. She deserved far better than him. But still, in the night when he was alone with his thoughts, he imagined what it would be like to have someone who understood him perfectly. He eventually packed those dreams away where all his dreams went, and went to the wall to take the black. Many at the wall had no mark, and so his became even more of a secret than it had been when he was at WInterfell.

Across the Narrow Sea, Daenerys Stormborn was left to learn what the wolf on her breast meant all on her own. Her brother was no wolf, but a dragon. So why was it not a dragon on her skin? She knew she would one day wed her brother and give him heirs as she knew little else in her young life. It was why she had been born, to birth new dragons to carry on her family’s name. The day she realized what her mark meant was one of the bitterest she had ever known. As she had grown, the image became more distinct, and one of her maid must have told her brother what was painted above her heart.

“You bare the mark of the Usurper’s dog on your body and you dare believe I will marry you? When your destiny is to be a wolf’s bitch in heat for the kin of the man who ruined our family? I’ll not wed you or bed you now. No, you will be married to one of the Dothraki horse lords, and in exchange he will give me the army I need to win back MY crown. And you will never be able to meet the man who would make you a traitor to your house. I will make sure they slaughter the North first.”

Dany had been told that having her mark over her heart was a good omen, that she would be loved completely by the one who bore her mark, but the words offered her no comfort as her brother abused her and sold her off like cattle.

It was only later, as she was finally crossing the Narrow Sea again that Dany thought of the wolf above her heart. Perhaps that had been part of the reason it was so easy for her to leave Daario, she had known he was not her soulmate, and however much she enjoyed his place in her bed, there was still something missing that made her long for the man who had a dragon on his heart. And she knew he must have a dragon on his heart for the lover that came to her in her dreams, though his face was hidden in shadow, his soul mark was visible. And the dragon was beautiful as it moved above her.

But she had a war to win and a throne to take. There was no time to worry about the man. Besides, she had heard that all three of Lord Stark’s sons were dead. What was the point of imagining a future when death had already stolen that future. Maybe that was part of why she had clung so fiercely to her dead husband, done so much to try to get him back. She was unlikely to meet this man who hard marked her, so better to stay with the person who was there. Maybe she would never know the great love that even now her handmaidens whispered she was destined for, but at least she would also not know the great loss of losing him. Still she remembered those first two days after she had been captured after fleeing Meereen.

She had been almost catatonic when they had found her. A grief she didn’t understand overtaking her making it hard to breathe, let alone fight off the men who had come to take her. Her heart was breaking with every step she took. How could she possibly love another when she knew what that pain had felt like? But then, after two days the pressure had released and she realized that suddenly she could breathe again. Once she got back to Meereen she had talked with Missandei, trying to discover what had happened her, but nothing could explain the pain, and then it sudden absence.

He walked into the throne room on Dragonstone expecting to meet another Cersei, but what he saw in front of him was nothing he was prepared for. The dragon above his heart had started to warm as soon as his eyes found her up on the throne. Gods but she was beautiful. He knew that men had said she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but seeing her in person was something else entirely. Even without the warmth flooding his veins he knew he would think her beautiful, but none of that could matter right now. Not her beauty, not the warmth of a soul bound, not while the dead were coming and he had to stop them. It had been easier to accept his coming death when he had believed he would never meet her.

He knew he couldn’t touch her, she was a queen, of course he couldn’t touch her. But even more then that, he must never touch her or the bond would start to complete itself and once that started the only place it ended was in his bed. And he was not going to live through the coming war. He would not do that to her. And maybe he was far luckier than he deserved and he was not her soulmate, maybe she would not have to live through his death. (Had she already had to live through his death? Had she felt the betrayal that took him from the world? If the Gods were kind he was alone in this love he could feel stealing over him.)

Even knowing he couldn’t touch her, that he shouldn’t touch her, his hand still found her arm while they were in that cave. The warmth that had settled into his bones since he had arrived at Dragonstone (when was the last time he was warm?) turned into a flame starting at his fingers and spreading through him. Oh, he was well and truly fucked now. How was he supposed to go back to the North and calmly die in battle now that he knew what it truly meant to be alive? And the way her eyes soften at his touch had him terrified that his was not the only body being consumed by fire in that moment.

By the time it came time for him to leave on the hunt for the dead, he thought he might just burst into flame from the heat in his veins. Now he knew why it was recommended that soulmates marry before they touch for the first time, his every dream was filled with Daenerys and the cries of pleasure he wanted to pull from her body. But he knew that this mission was one he was not likely to come back from, so he tried to joke with the Queen, hoping that she was not as affected as he was. But her words told him that she was just as far into this thing between them as he was, and he could not look back at her as they left. If he looked back he would abandon this whole harebrained scheme for a different one and beg to spend the rest of his life at her side.

She knew he wasn’t dead. She was sure now that she had felt was this knife to the heart that Ser Davos had mentioned that first day, and her pain felt nothing like that. She could still breathe, however weakly, and her mind still worked. Her pain from her child was a physical presence in her mind and in her heart, but so was the knowledge that no matter how unlikely it seemed, her soulmate still breathed. She had never allowed herself to think of him thus before that moment on top of the way that his ancestors had built. Whatever fire his eyes and his touch had ignited in her, she had refused to think the word. It was too dangerous, she had thought. But now standing at the end of the world waiting against logic for him to come back to her, she wondered if it wasn’t more dangerous to ignore what was growing between them.

She kept vigil over his body from the time they brought him into her chambers to get him warm until he woke up. It was only a day and a half but after she took up her position next to the bed she didn’t leave. Being with him, caring for him in whatever way she could, it helped to ease the pain of her child’s death. Or maybe it just let her forget what price she had paid for the man laying in her bed. “Only death can pay for life.” She knew this as deeply as she knew she would never be able to give her soulmate a child. Had she traded her child for Jon? Was that the decision that she had made when she had called all three of her children together to go save him and the rest of the hunting party? Had Viserion known who it was he was flying off to save?

Sooner than she had dared hope his eyes opened and she knew her heart was well and truly lost to this man. He was apologizing about her child. And then their skin touched for the first time and Dany wondered how a man from the North could possibly warm her so much, especially when he was still getting over almost freezing to death. She pulled her hand away, needing him to understand that she would never be able to give him children before they went any further and that he didn’t need to feel guilty about what had happened. She would stand beside him, help him defeat this night king who had stolen so much from her, so much from humanity.

When he pledged to himself to her, it felt like more than just him pledging his sword, it felt like this was the moment their whole lives had been leading up to. He was a king, and she was a queen, but to be HIS queen, oh, that might truly be something. This time it was her hand that reached out, the words and the look in his eyes overwhelming her. That this man believed that she would be worthy of the trust and faith he had placed in her stole her voice. She had had to earn his trust in a different way from anyone else she had ever known. He must have known who she was when he had arrived at her door. The dragon she could even now see over his heart (His heart where they had stabbed him, tried to kill him, was that had happened on those lost two days?), it had to have warned him what awaited him on Dragonstone.

She should leave, let him rest and get his strength back. But she didn’t want to leave him, not now that she had admitted what he was to her, not while his hand was warming her whole body and his eyes were locked on hers. Still, she knew she must leave him. He closed his eyes, but Dany still found herself struggling to actually leave the room. She loved him, but they could not be together, not while these battles were before them. Would he think she had rejected him? Had she rejected him?

Standing in the city her ancestors built should have felt like coming home, but the feeling was pale. How could anyone have let this much misery develop? This was the work of generations, just as the destruction of her family had been the work of generations. Everything had been perfectly rehearsed before they reached the pit, how each would enter, where everyone would stand, how the dead man would be presented. And everything went according to plan, right up until Cersei asked Jon for his neutrality. Jon had looked at his advisor, and then at her, and Dany knew that everything was about to explode around them.

In the aftermath she had been unable to hold the fire of her anger. They should have known that he would be unwilling to play the game, he had refused to play the game up to that point, why should that change now. But it was the discussion after the explosion that gave her the most to think over. Could he be right, could the witch have been wrong? She had dreamed of a daughter so often in the past, and always awoke feeling hollow when she remembered the reality of her life. But she also knew there was magic in a soul bond. Maybe she would be able to give Jon children.

He came to her door knowing that this was inevitable. She had branded him before they had even met, and she lit his blood in a way he had never experienced before. If she turned him away tonight, he would accept her decision, of course he would, but he would beg to be allowed to stay as an advisor, at least until the war the was. If she turned him away tonight he knew that he would not need more than that, because he would not be alive when spring came back to the land. He would guide her as well as he was able, but he would not burden her with a soulmate she didn’t want, a soulmate who made everything worse by destroying carefully laid plans.

But, oh, if she didn’t turn him away, if she allowed him to love her, even if it was only for one night. He knocked at her door and waited to see what his fate would be. When she opened the door, he could see in her eyes that this, him being at her door, was something she had also been waiting for, been longing for. And so when she opened her door to let him in, Jon was walked into his future knowing this was the only thing he would fight the Gods themselves for. This woman and their love.

The door shut, and a calmness settled over him. This was right. Whatever fears and insecurities he held before this moment, they fell away as he stepped forward to kiss her. His lips pressed against hers, and the world stopped and exploded at the same time. The soul bond would allow no other outcome but completion. They had already put this off long enough, and he didn’t want to wait any longer. His hands reached out to start undoing her dress, but first he pulled away to make sure she wanted this as much as he did.

Every part of her sang out for him to finish undressing her and to just take her already, they had denied their truth long enough. But his question about whether or not she truly wanted this melted her resolve. She bore him mark over her breast and she knew his blood was singing the same as hers. And still he paused and asked to make sure that she wanted this. He was so different from her other lovers in that moment that she could barely remember them. His eyes promised that he would take her like a wolf took his mate, but he still cared for her more then even this power overwhelming them.

Dany knew that the night would go no further if she did not wish it to. That even now, with the bond almost complete he would leave if she told him to. That he would do anything she told him to. And that power, power that was so natural to her as a queen, is terrified her. She thought she had gotten used to the power she held over others and their fates, however much she hated to use it, but to know that she could send Jon off to his death and he would go willing if it was her desire, that power was terrifying.

She wondered if he knew that he held the same power over her, if it scared him as much as it did her. Rather than ask him and ruin the moment that they had found themselves in, she drew his hands back to the clasps on her dress and helped him to undress herself. And then she helped him undress as well. This night was theirs, and any fears could be dealt with in the morning. For this night they would only be Jon and Dany, two soul mates finally giving into their feelings.

#jonerysweek #jonerys #jonerys fanfic

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