#The Ghost King and Prince are known to not answer summons

[radiance1]

The Ghost Prince does not, under any circumstances, answer a summoning after it was made aware he existed. None know why he doesn't, some are bitter and hateful of it while others are thankful that it's one less bloodthirsty manic to deal with.

The Ghost King meanwhile hasn't been seen in multiple eons, so the magical community who wanted to use his power just, stopped, trying to summon him for a long time.

Most magic users knew that the Ghost Prince never answered a summons, and that the Ghost King just dropped off the radar.

So could you really blame Constantine for not taking it that seriously when some wannabe hotshot cultists try to summon both of them in the middle of a city to wreak havoc?

He'll give them some credit though. Points for doing it in broad daylight and actually being somewhat of a threat with not relying on just summoning the Ghost royalty and figuring out what to do from there.

The area they were in was somewhat destroyed, then the cultists manage to complete the summoning circle to summon both of them and Constantine, well he just light up a smoke.

It isn't going to work anyways so what does it matter?

...

Is that a fucking Ice cream truck he hears? Who the fuck is driving an Ice cream truck while their city is being under attacked with cultists trying to summon eldritch ghost royalty?

He'll give them some points for dedication, though.

Then he looked at the cultists and nearly had a goddamn heart attack to see that the summoning circle is actually fucking lighting up and working.

The Bat is so gonna give him a headache over this.

----

Danny Phantom, crown prince of the Infinite Realms. Does not answer summons.

For one, it is annoying as shit, whenever someone interrupts his day just to ask for infinite power (that he can't give), world domination (that he won't do) or infinite riches (which he also can't do).

It just got annoying being summoned all the time so. One day he just, well, no. And hey, it worked out well enough for him to not continue doing it.

Then he also learned that Pariah Dark is basically the same, after he got out the coffin and stopped trying to take over the world for whatever reason. He was actually a pretty swell guy!

He was just with him too, with him being not so swell at the time for making him go through lessons about Ghost etiquette, rules, stuff that's expected of him as the crown prince.

And don't even get him started on the engagement and marriage proposals.

Overall, he just wanted to find an excuse to leave. Then he felt the familiar suggestive pull of a summoning and, instead of rejection as he usually does in a second. He thought for a bit if he wanted to go with that or crown prince duties.

It was tempting, but dealing with cultists seemed worse than this so he was about to reject.

At least, before he heard an Ice cream truck playing in the background. He doesn't even know how the hell that popped up through the pull but by the gods has it been a while since he's had Ice cream.

So he answers and is gone with a pop.

Pariah Dark just stares for a good second or two, before breathing out and deciding to also answer. Fright Knight is just there, off to side, questioning what he should do now.

Danny wastes no time with the cultists on the other side and in fact, he pushes them out of the way and goes diving for that Ice cream truck he hears. Only to realize he doesn't, have any money on him.

Fuck.

Pariah Dark is less inclined to follow the rules imposed by humans like money, but he does know it can be important. Once in a while. Not that often, but it has its times.

So when he sees his adopted son being sad over being unable to pay for some kind of human delicacy, he digs around in his hair (yes, his hair.) and pulls out some money and puts it on the counter as payment.

The man inside the tiny vehicle had shrieked before getting what they wanted. Which is good. Fear is a good motivator, Pariah thinks.

Unknown to him, it wasn't out of fear (Well, mostly) but because the Ghost King placed down a coin made of pure, solid gold on his counter.

The two then go about their business in the human realm, completely forgetting about the fact that they were summoned here for something.

Constantine is both relieved and about to have an aneurysm at seeing Infinite Realm royalty only answering a summon because of Ice cream.

[wind-sage-serin]

Sometimes we have to write things down. For the good of others, yes, but also for the good of ourselves.

Welcome to the corner of tumblr where I share my experiences from the ghost town of a faith I still cherish. I have lived twice in the realms of Hylia before ending up here— once as Wind Sage Fado, and once as Picori Sage “Serin”. The latter name was a nickname given to me by a peculiar person who I’ve since been reacquainted with.

As I currently exist I am human named Matthieu (or Chrome), a trans man, a plural host, and a spiritualist who discovered my identity as the Sage of Wind back in 2009 or so. I was 12 then, but I had dreams as far back as age 10 before I’d even known about the lore.

This is my spiritual blog that branches from my main, located here.

Regarding the plurality, there are a small cast of fellow believers in our system. I’ll make a small list of their identities, their pronouns, and the timeline occurrences that pinpoint them in the fracture or closure of the timeline.

♦️Me (Chrome): Wind Sage both for the Flooded Era as well as covertly for the Calamity Era. Curious to the point of danger-prone. Often socially oblivious.

🖤Daphell: Quarter-Hylian Hero of the Wild, reincarnated after Link’s failure to survive the Shrine of Resurrection. Kidnapped by Yiga at 8 years, fed the Binding Blood which caused him to be bound to Ganon much like his captors. Father is likely Dorian.

🏹Revali: Champion of the Rito, bears the misfortune of having a dual-memory between Daph’s timeline and his Link’s. Came to our system through our summoning pool (which only summons the dead, unmade, and erased). Still cocky, but understands duty.

🌵Ako Ehri: deceased Gerudo King from the Flooded Era, came through the pool. Does not go by his old name as it bears scars. He struggles with English, and his new name is Eheniv for “Wind Prince”.

🌪️Vaati: reformed timeline. He used to visit more than stay, but as his master began to sundown he’s been spending more time here. He’s mischievous, but more level-headed than Serin (Chrome), his master’s alternate successor.

🦈Mipha: Warriors timeline, fought one the final clash before succumbing to fatal wounds. She’s shy but she does her best to help out however she can. She often wonders if she’s doing enough and the answer is that being here is enough for our family.

🦎Daruk: unrelated timeline to anybody else. Seems he survived the attack and lived to be over 100, related to partner sys Link named “Mal”.

🐪Urbosa: literally a manifestation of our Revali’s self-criticism. Doesn’t really speak to many aside from him. She’s not distressed by being a thought form of his.

🌸Zell: royal-blooded Prince, recently began questioning gender. Related to Revali’s Link’s timeline. Still enjoys research, and is just as willing to get in danger for knowledge as the Picori here.

We are fortunate to have as many people as these, even if we are a strange assortment. Most of the posts will be from me (Chrome), but occasionally you may find a difference in tone and a different marker, and that will mean the post is from them.

The likelihood of this place having a lot of viewers is low but we are glad you’re here. If you feel so inclined, we first found our faith in 2009 or so via the Naroin Founder’s Document that I preserved thanks to the Wayback Machine and the Annex Wiki site. Though the proboards site is long gone and the Facebook group is kind of a Ghost Town, we keep moving forward and (Hylia willing) we work to make sense of it.

My main goal is to compile a list of practices to see if it can be codified. Preserving rituals is of serious importance to me.

[patroklides-archive]

"dedue," dimitri's tone is barely above a whisper in the dark of the night of faerghan winter—it is the time of the year nights grow longer and longer, and while the king is by now used to it, it still presents itself a challenge during wartime. not that it matters, right now, as he runs his fingers through the stack of documents and missives that he had gone through the day. so much has happened in the past two years, from his coronation to this senseless war, and even the most stalwart man cannot help but waver in face of the mounting pressure. “i have a strange question to ask you, if you may indulge me.”

he lifts his eyes from the blurring official lettering, vision swimming from the exhaustion. he’s all too aware that his work binge is not healthy, but it is the only way he can feel at ease in his own skin after every choice consciously made, every ghost that still insists to remain staring back in each mirror, in each reflection, no matter how further he goes down the road. straightening his back against the wooden chair, his fingers curl into a fist over the paper, his signature scrawled along the ending lines, crest of blaiddyd pressed in wax as if it lends the words of a boy-king more credence.

[ if he stares at himself in a mirror, right now, will it be his own image staring back or will it be his late father’s? will it be his uncle’s, in his rage and spite?

—or, even worse, if fate’s cruelty is so willing, will it be the lilac gaze of the one girl it seems he cannot ever reach? ]

“—all these years, through the tragedy,  through the bitterness of my uncle’s treachery and now through the flames of war itself, you have been the most steadfast presence in my life. am i the king you expected me to be, my friend? i realize it may sound offputting, to hear me ask so so bluntly, but i fear i can no longer assess that for myself.”

unprompted / @hamartio

HE STILLS AT THE SOUND OF HIS NAME, an eyebrow arched in quiet curiosity as he turns to face the young king. his voice sounds rough with exhaustion; dark circles rim blue eyes, no doubt the result of too many late nights such as this. he has already made his opinion on his majesty’s sleep habits well-known, of course, to little avail. yet if he cannot convince him to take care of himself, he can at least shoulder the burden with him. [ paperwork is hardly his strong suit, but many hands make light work, as they say. ]

          he cannot tell what the king is thinking, not precisely, but he can hear the weary tremble in his voice, can see the far-away look in his eyes. he has seen him like this many times over, yet it never ceases to make something in his chest constrict at the sight. haunted, he thinks. there is no other word for it. 

          he is reminded, suddenly, of their teenage years. of being summoned to the prince’s room in the dead of night, listening to him babble idly in a language he barely understood until sleep claimed them both. he had not realized, at the time, that it might be seen as inappropriate — he had shared a bed with his sister all his life, after all — but rufus had been furious. had told him that it would reflect poorly on the prince, that there would be rumors. he’d stopped answering dimitri’s late nights summons after that, even knowing that both of them slept far worse for it.

          [ there are still rumors, some more cogent than others, yet he finds it more difficult each day to care. ] 

          “ your majesty. ” he slides, gingerly, onto one knee, bringing himself to the other man’s eye level where he sits. dedue reaches slowly, gently, for his fist, and smooths thumbs over his wrist, the heel of his palm, the joints of his fingers, coaxing his hand into a more relaxed position. “ dimitri. ” the name, reserved only for these private moments between them, still feels foreign on his tongue, but it is worth it to see the light it brings to the other man’s face each time. 

          “ you have met my expectations and more. ” his voice is steady, even, as dedue looks back up at him. “ you have shown great care and compassion for the people of duscur, and have worked tirelessly in rebuilding it even amid a war. you have always put your people first, often before even your own health. you have been forced to make difficult decisions on many occasions, and each time, you have made them selflessly, with thought only for the wellbeing of your people. and if those things do not make you a good king, then i fear no such king exists. ” 

          dedue presses a kiss, featherlight, against a scarred palm, his heart racing as he does so. they have been tiptoeing around such things for the better part of two years now, each well aware of the other’s feelings yet too timid to say so. “ you should rest, your majesty, ” he says, quietly. “ i will stay until you fall asleep. ”

[suoyou]

[wip] 一日三秋; one day, three autumns

1633 words, rated t.

a complete chapter 2 in an incomplete series of oneshots titled 一日三秋; one day, three autumns, in which wwx is the autumn king and lwj is the winter prince.

ch 1.

they say that missing someone is the most powerful force of pain a person will know. a pain that can wilt the heart. a pain to carry. a pain that can turn one day into three autumns.

In the middle of Lan Wangji’s left thigh is a scar, round and hollow in the center, like a coin. It had been a burn once, angry blisters deadening into a purple keloid into, now, a little white moon on his skin. 

Of the five floors of the castle, Lan Wangji is only allowed in three. Evidently, little does it matter that he is the only other heir to the Winter Throne should his brother ever be incapable of holding it; he’s often pictured how woefully unprepared he would be should the Kingdom of Summer ever revolt again, or, as the Defectress Luo Qingyang had promised, if the Autumn King showed up seeking revenge. 

For what, Lan Wangji doesn’t know. 

“You don’t need to know,” has always been his uncle’s reply. 

“You won’t need to know if I have any say in it,” is what his brother says, kind, still double-edged.

“You should know,” said the Defectress Luo Qingyang, over her teacup, and jade has never looked so threatening, “that your kingdom is still carrying out the crimes of war right under your nose, and if your family does not wake up, the Autumn Kingdom will leave the decade-long peace treaty in the dust the same way you have.” She said it all like she was simply commenting on the races. The Jin Imperial Family was winning. 

“How do you know? What kind of war crimes?” asked Lan Wangji. He’d spoken too brusquely, but Luo Qingyang hadn’t been fazed. All around them, the Dragon Boat Festival surged on, air humid and painted green-red-blue, an overfull tea kettle of a day. “Why is it your concern?”

“That you think it shouldn’t be my concern is the same line of thinking that got your Kingdom into this mess,” she said, and her words have been ringing in Lan Wangji’s ears ever since, an unwelcome jabber of sparrow song and raven squawks that won’t leave him hours later. The telltale signs of spring. She holds her position well. 

“What kind of war crimes?” he repeated.

She’d taken her time sipping the rest of her tea before placing her empty cup on the table to be taken away. “Do you recall, when the Wen Imperial Family went rogue and the Snowfire Wars tore the lands apart,” she said, “there was a division of mages known as the Core Reapers?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t really believe, do you, that they simply vanished after those wars?”

Lan Wangji had stared at her. 

The Core Reapers had vanished after the Snowfire Wars. They’d ridden through the war-torn battlegrounds after blood had been spilled like red ghosts, gathering the dying bodies of civilians and mages alike to, as Lan Wangji had heard, harvest their cores. Word was that the Wen Imperial Family was creating elixirs, weapons, medicines out of them. Hearsay had it that they were creating monsters. 

He stares at his scar now, where his jade pendant had burned him through three layers of clothing thirteen years ago, and had never lit up again. In the dusk of the evening, it’s almost invisible, as if it had  never existed—vanished, like the Reapers, after the war. 

Lan Wangji stands up and shrugs his outer robe back on. Unthinkingly, he opens the drawer where he keeps that pendant, like it’ll have answers for him. It doesn’t. Jade does not dull with age, but in the red velvet of the drawer it could be leached bone. A small one—a skull bone. 

Lying beside it is its bonded match. Once they had been identical, though Lan Wangji’s pendant was wrapped in blue ribbon. The other is broken on one side and missing a segment, red knotting and tassels unraveled, the jade circle incomplete like a horseshoe. When the Snowfire Wars raged around him, Lan Wangji wore his half of the pair with more attention and care than when he carried his sword.

“Wangye,” his attendant inclines her head when he opens his pavilion doors. 

“I have some personal work to attend to. Can you see to it that, if any of my family seeks me, to let them know I will greet them accordingly when I return?”

“Yes, Wangye.”

So he goes. 

Three of the Kingdom’s floors are aboveground. Two are below. He’s been to three in the middle—never the topmost, never the bottomost, and he’s not sure what he’s looking for. He has to look, to be sure, or else it will be another evening of Luo Qingyang’s voice in his head, jerking him awake long before dawn.

Strange dreams have been plaguing him since the Dragon Boat festival, the sorts of dreams that someone would tell themselves didn’t mean anything. The night of the festival Lan Wangji had gone to bed and found himself in a place where the sun never set, simply bobbing up and down in the sky, turning from green to gold and back again as the days and nights passed. Then, the next night, the scar on his thigh had opened up and begun bleeding afresh, and no matter what magic he used, it would not stop. The more magic he used, the more blood poured down his leg. 

Last night, he dreamed of Wei Ying. Not in the way he’d been in life, so bright that Lan Wangji couldn’t bear to look at him sometimes. 

The Kingdom of Winter had been blanketed in snow for their cycle, and Lan Wangji was in the woods outside the royal walls alone. A dark sweep of Core Reapers had passed by. Their hoods had been drawn over their heads. It looked as if the entire forest was bleeding. 

One of them in the center of their tight pool of red had paused and turned their heads, and under the scarlet, mink-lined hood had been Wei Ying’s face. 

Lan Wangji shakes himself as he greets the guards that stand outside the gates into the Kingdom’s undergrounds. A question floats through their expressions but they open the gates for him without question, bowing again as he passes. 

He picks his way through the first underground level without wasting his time. Here they keep their forbidden texts, their spoils of war, here they hold sensitive political meetings. A damp, sweet smell of soil clutches fat little hands at his robes, happy for visitors, and he raises his hand to upright some of the overgrown vines and planters that line the walls. His hand glows a dim blue, and the drooping foliage picks its flower heads up again. Blooms are coming. 

Even if he’s never made the descent into the lowest floor of the Kingdom, Lan Wangji knows there are two ways to get there—the prisoners’ entrance in the Pavilion of Discord, and the one he faces now. The jailers’ entrance, through the Hall of Justice. 

He doesn’t feel particularly just, facing the round door that he knows will take him down the staircase into the Kingdom’s dungeons.  

Blue fires light his way. 

In times of peace, there aren’t many prisoners to speak of. The few that the Kingdom of Winter persecutes are petty thieves, suspected spies, and the occasional revolutionist, all of which are bent into fearful submission before they ever even make it to the dungeons. Lan Wangji knows it. He’s seen it. 

And he’s right, almost, for at least part of the dungeon. It’s bright and clean, with mainly empty cells, but the blue fires end abruptly in the middle of the long walkway between the rows. There are scuffles, noises of things living, hushed in the gloom. He pauses and strains his eyes. Then he lifts his hand, summoning some of the fires in the torches to his palm to light his way. 

He doesn’t know what he expects to see. Prisoners, perhaps, curled up like hungry mice. 

The icy sheen of his fire falls over the bodies in the cells, and Lan Wangji frowns before he steps back, breath stuttering in his chest. 

They are prisoners. It’s the most human thing left about them. Some of them have lost all their hair, ragged clumps gathering in rolls thick as dead cats beside them. Others have clawed their own backs bloody, as if they’d been trying to dig their own spines out of their bodies, and still others were covered in a thick, tarry ooze, as if blood and lymph had leaked out of them and gained its own sentience. One of them lay in silence with a stained white strip of cloth over his eyes, a line at his neck like his head had been stitched back on. 

Lan Wangji’s stomach writhes, hot and sick, in his belly. 

The end of the walkway widens into a larger chamber where no one is kept, but as he passes his fire over the space he can make out the outlines of odd contraptions—long rods with fluted holes, boards with three holes in them—one larger, two smaller, for a neck and hands. A splintered wooden gurney like a rotting log. Old blades sprout off of it like oyster mushrooms. They blink sleepily back at him, eyes in the night. A bizarre device like a chair, outfitted with two horns on both sides. Anyone sitting in it would have their head position between the mouths of both. 

He frowns. A long skein of red fabric has been tossed carelessly over the back of the chair, wrinkles rounded and warm. A cloak. Someone’s just taken it off. 

“Wangji,” a voice comes from behind him, “what are you doing down here?”

[agentrouka-blog]

Loved your Arya Dany transition . Can you do a Jon Sansa transition considering their chapters also come many times one after the other ?

Hi anon!

Thank you so much!

Jonsa chapter transitions are a fun fun fun thing to look at. This has been done much better by other people.  I tried it myself a little. 

The obvious ones are in ACOK, where Jon flanks the chapter of Sansa’s flowering, and in ASOS, where it’s basically Jonsa Festival of Unsubtle Hints. 

Sansa I -> Jon I

Sansa I: She meets the Tyrells, goes bibbledy over Jon-like Loras, hears the song The Bear And The Maiden Fair with the honey in her hair, gets an offer of marriage and is asked “Are you fond of fools?” Fools in feathers, specifically. Final line: “But look, here comes my cheese”, (which is supposed to be served last as the servant points out), which is followed by... -> Jon I: Mr. Cheese walks with the free folk, is referred to as a crow flying free (feathers), meets Mance singing the Dornishman’s Wife, which is a song later amended to “Northman’s daughter”. We have another reference to Bael the Bard, which ties to Lyanna (Jon’s true parentage) and Sansa both. Love and cloaks and motivations for leaving the Watch are mentioned extensively, and then Jon lies his way into the confidence of an invading monarch. THIS is followed by… -> Dany I. 

Jon II -> Sansa II

Jon II: A tense confrontation with Mance is disrupted by Ygritte’s lie about her relationship with Jon and ends with his sexual entrapment. (I emphasize that I view this as sexual abuse.) -> Sansa II: ‘“A new gown?” she said, as wary as she was astonished.’ - This feeling basically mirror’s Jon’s emotions. This gown is the one she will wear to her surprise forced wedding to Tyrion, so Jon and Sansa are absolutely mirroring each other’s journey’s here, but more than that is also falls into Sansa’s gown-theme, which ties to her more general “marriage to a prince”, “the dragon’s heir”, “stained with fire and blood”, “I will make you a new one” theme, which hints at the idea that all the messed up or borrowed or treacherous dresses will eventually be replaced by a proper one for the real wedding. 

Even if Dontos was right, and it is Winterfell he wants and not me, he still may come to love me for myself. Sansa hugged herself tightly, wondering how long it would be before the gown was ready. She could scarcely wait to wear it. 

This chapter is followed by Arya III, who HAD promised to make Sansa a new dress at one point.  

Jon III -> Daenerys III -> Sansa III 

Jon III: Jon sends Ghost away the day before climbing the Wall, cave scene with Ygritte where he very very out of nowhere suddenly “loves” her, while still arguing about how he didn’t steal her and refuses to answer if he would sleep with his sister. Ygritte never wants to leave the cave. (Dany has her own cave with Drogon later, btw.) -> Daenerys III: She buys the Unsullied and has her first absolutely devastating and brutal act of warfare: Dracarys, dracarys, dracarys! -> Sansa III: Sansa’s gown is ready. Her forced wedding mirror’s Jon’s sexual entrapment and the cave scene. 

Dany’s dragon threat separates Jon and Sansa here. He feels shame and conflict in a duplicitous relationship, Sansa is entrapped by marriage vows to Tyrion who will be in Dany’s service. 

Sansa VI -> Jon IX

Sansa VI: She is shipped off to the Fingers by Bael-ish who reveals his Evil Masterminding and then marries her aunt, while Sansa is almost raped by a singer. Lysa offers that she marry her cousin, who likes stories about animals pretending to be something they are not. Sansa thinks “No one will ever marry me for love” and is told she must be obedient. “Yes, my son will have a humble and obedient wife.” -> Jon IX: Holds the Wall against the Wildling siege that mirrors Dany’s attack on Meereen (especially the turtles). Jon’s rest is interrupted by Janos Slynt and Aliser Thorne, who call him a turncloak. Jon remains calm (humble and obedient…) but gets violently angry and attacks Thorne when they besmirch Ned’s honor. Stark loyalty 180%. (The visuals here mirror Ned attacking Littlefinger and Show-Jon attacking Littlefinger, both of whom defended the honor of their loves.) 

Jon XII -> Sansa VII

Jon XII: He contemplates Stannis’ offer of Winterfell by revisiting his recent experiences, his bastard trauma, his dream of rebuilding his home. Ghost returns to him and Jon has his answer: who am I? A Snow. He goes off, is voted Lord Commander, celebrates with his friends. Then he has a king to face. -> Sansa VII: She rebuilds Winterfell from Snow, with snowflakes like lover’s kisses, and defends herself from Bael-ish, and fights a Little savage giant. Someone kills a murderous, jealous aunt to protect her. 

Jon makes a choice that is later revealed to be “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa”, and Sansa repays this by granting Jon an indelible place in their rebuilt home.

These are pretty popularly known chapter transitions.

One less looked is in AGOT:

Sansa IV -> Jon VII

Sansa IV: She is summoned by an evil queen, pleads her loyalty and her love, is accused of future treason, and ends up writing letters urging loyalty to the evil queen, in order to save Ned. -> Jon VII: Bodies are found that are not what they seem, after Jon has nightmares about the Winterfell crypts. Jon hears of the king’s death and Ned’s treason. He is especially worried for his sisters and attacks Thorne for besmirching Ned’s honor (again!), he badly burns his hand when fighting the wight. “Dark snakes” spill from the belly of the wight. (Dragons?) and Jon prays that the corpse burns. 

“Let it burn, he prayed as the cloth smothered the corpse, gods, please, please, let it burn.”

This is hard to parse, but if you consider reverse foreshadowing it might be that Sansa does write treasonous letters urging disloyalty to a certain evil queen in a way that pertains to Jon, while Jon is worried for his sisters, hoping dark snakes and fire don’t do their worst, after scary times with wights and violent confrontations with enemies. 

One I am reeeeaaaaally curious about is Sansa’s TWOW sample chapter.

Alayne I ends with a pretty anvilicious line:

He grinned. "I will hold you to that promise, my lady. Until that day, may I wear your favor in the tourney?"

"You may not. It is promised to... another." She was not sure who as yet, but she knew she would find someone.

Hypothetically and chronologically, if he didn’t have to split the books, this HAS to be followed by a ADWD Jon chapter, doesn’t it? But which one? I’m not totally up on my timeline work yet, but it might coincide with Alys’s wedding in ADWD, chronologically. Alayne, the bastard girl, dances and dances, Jon refuses Alys’ offer while watching a different barstard dance (Satin) and worries for his safety. 

And will GRRM follow this by a Jon chapter in TWOW? 

Anyway, this is really fun. I’m working on something alittle more coherent about the chapter transitions for Arya and Tyrion because I think that’s going to be A Thing. A violent thing.

[alovesongshewrote]

Almost A Thousand Years - Battle Royal | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot:  You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years.  You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years.  And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain.  But somewhere in that time, things changed.  [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count:  2,975

Warnings: (Y/N) is traumatized, but you knew that already

A/N:  IT’S B A C K, SHE’S HOME

Taglist:   @furblrwurblr​ @rainningdoom​ @fluffydmonkey @blondie0458​ @sitherin-mxschief​ @jinxedleo @lawlesshedgehog @einahpetsyarcip​ @dolphincommander​ @sorrels-scribbling​ @anxious-stitcher​ @alive-and-afraid​ @animedweeb333​ @douxiesdamsel​ @saroski05 @justarandomhoman​

You were very pleased to finally get a nap.  

It took a few minutes of answering questions, and by the end of it you’d basically told Claire and Steve every secret you’d ever had, but it was worth it.  You’d answer all of their questions and a million more if it meant you got to take another nap in the corner of Douxie’s room.

Waking up to general panic, however, was not as good.

“Morgana’s alive and coming for us!”

You sat up just in time to see Morgana’s hand reach through a shadow portal, only for Claire to shut the thing before any real damage could be done.

“Well… that’s not good,”

“Douxie, what do we do?”

Your wizard turned to face you, then Claire, then the empty space where the portal had been.

“Merlin?”

You nodded, “Yeah, Merlin,”

It took you less than a minute to wake up from your nap, and five minutes to get to Merlin’s workshop.  After that, it only took you an eternity to convince him that Morgana had really returned.

“I swear, Morgana’s not dead!”

“Rubbish,”

“It’s true, master.  She saw her in the shadow realm, which is great for saving history,”

“But she’s coming to attack the kingdom any second!”

“Which is less great,”

“We are all in grave danger,”

“And what were you doing in the shadow realm, hmm?  Its dark mirrors trick you, sozzle your mind.  Morgana is dead, and no magic can change that.  I haven’t time to chase ghosts.  We have more immediate threats,”

Typical Merlin, unwilling to listen to anyone except Arthur.  But something he said struck a chord with you.  No magic could bring Morgana back, at least no magic Merlin knew of.  You, however, had some experience with a different kind of magic, one that had some alarming potential.

“Morgana is a threat!”

“Listen well, girl, even if she had cheated death, we don’t stand a chance if Gunmar attacks before I finish the amulet,”

Past Douxie kicked down the door.  He was talking, they all were, but you were very lost in thought.  The Arcane Order had mentioned something about being older than the stars, and that meant they were round now.  If their magic could possess you, and create the green knight, then-

“I know you think we’re just a bunch of dumb teens, but we have to defend Camelot from disaster,”

“Hey, guys?  What if we’re thinking of the wrong disaster,”

You had Douxie and Claire’s attention, but not Merlin’s.  What else is new.

“Think about it.  Morgana had to be brought back by extremely powerful magic.  Maybe Gandalf over here can’t think of anything that could do that, but I think I have a good idea of we might be facing,”

Your wizard and the sorceress watched you with anticipation, but Merlin had no time for this.  With a wave of his hand, half-masks appeared, covering the bottom of your face.  The same thing happened to Claire and Douxie. 

“Silence!”

“Wizard got your tongues?”

You couldn’t speak, but with the limited knowledge of morse code that you’d picked up in the wars, you told Archie that you would fight him in a Denny’s parking lot whenever the opportunity arose.

“If you truly believe the kingdom’s in danger, then go protect it… outside.  I’ve an amulet to finish,”

Green magic surrounded you, lifting you, Douxie, Claire and Archie out the door and away from Merlin.

As much as you hated being silenced, it was kind of fun to watch Douxie struggle to remove the masks.  It took a few minutes for the green magic surrounding you and Claire to turn blue, and when it did, you were thankful enough to help your wizard with his gag.

“No sign of Morgana anywhere,”

“Nothing but unwashed plebeians stuffing their faces, eh, Steve?”

If you looked into the crowd, you could see Steve, an unwashed plebeian, stuffing his face.  

You turned your attention from the teenager, who was now running towards your small group, to watch Arthur give his little speech.  To be honest, you weren’t actually that focused on what the king was saying.  In fact, you had zoned right out until he mentioned Bular. 

At the king’s command, the troll was brought out into the shadows where the public could see him.  The Gumm-Gumm prince roared, and you heard screams echo out through the crowd, one of which came from Steve.

You, on the other hand, didn’t scream.  Instead, you took a few steps back, clenching your jaw and your fists.  Seeing the face of the troll who had stalked you for a century, gotten you tortured, and tried to kill you and your friends was not something you’d been looking forward to.

Douxie noticed your discomfort and grabbed your hand, “You alright, love?”

“Not really, no,”

Your wizard looked around, forming a plan, “Ok, guys, come this way,”

You followed his lead and found yourself in a shaded alleyway discussing the plan.  It wasn’t much, but it was way better than being anywhere near Bular.

“Right, we know Arthur’s the main target.  I’ll draw stasis traps around the perimeter, put up defensive wards-” Steve cut him off, not with words, but with food, “I forgot how good these tasted.  The ones in the future aren’t the same,”

You may have been viscerally upset by the fact that the Gumm-Gumm prince was anywhere near you, but you weren’t heartless.  The sight of your boyfriend enjoying a part of his old home brought a smile to your face.  Claire, however, had no time for this.

“Guys, this is Morgana we’re talking about.  We can’t just wait for her to slice our throats,”

“Why not?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, Steve, but I’d rather not die horribly this week,”

“She’ll find a way in, she’s not just powerful,”

Archie flew down, perching on your shoulder in his dragon form, “No sign of any sorceresses, but then again, all you humans do look the same,”

“She is crafty.  She’ll try to infiltrate the tournament,” your gang, minus Steve, started to walk down the street, “We have to go on the offensive, root the witch out,”

“You do that. We’ll secure the castle,”

Claire looked between you and the wizard.  You gave her a nod, Douxie gave her a high-five, and the three of you ran off, Archie flying behind you.

You wanted to avoid Bular as much as possible, so you followed your wizard, placing your own protective warding around his.  It didn’t take too long for your mood to improve greatly.  Spending time with your loved ones just kinda does that sometimes.

“And there.  The king’s chambers and Merlin’s tower, completely warded.  No evil sorceress getting in now, eh?”

“Oh, you’ve done it alright.  Overdone it,”

You cringed as a bypasser found himself trapped in one of Douxie’s sigils, and you walked over with him to free the poor dude.

“Well, at least the castle’s safe,”

“As safe as it can be when an evil sorceress is breathing down your neck,” you crossed your arms, looking around at your work, “I really hope we never have to use these,”

Douxie wrapped an arm around your waist and placed a hand on the side of your face, turning you to look at him, “You never know, love, but whatever comes next, I promise I will keep you safe.  I won’t let anyone, Arcane Order included, hurt you again,”  the emotion in his voice almost surprised you.  

You knew that what the Order did to you had caused damage, both physical and mental, but you’d never really realized that had done the same to him.  Obviously, you were worse off, but you just now realized just how much guilt Douxie felt over this, and it made you feel a lot worse.  You already knew that he would blame himself and that it would just add to the guilt he already felt about messing up time (which was not his fault), but you had miscalculated just how much remorse the man you loved would feel.

You didn’t say anything.  How could you say or do anything other than pull him towards you and bury your face in his chest?

“Thank you, Douxie,” you looked up into his hazel eyes, “And uh, just in case you were wondering, I’ve got your back also,”

He smiled, letting out a small laugh, “I know.  Thank you, darling,”

“Ay, no need to thank me,” you said, a lazy grin on your face as you kissed your wizard. 

Your hands moved from his back to rest on his neck.  Maybe it wasn’t the most romantic thought, but you were really glad that you weren’t driven to strangle him.  You broke the kiss, still grinning.  He turned his face, taking one of your hands and kissing it.  

“I love you,” his words were a little muffled by your hand, but that didn’t take away any of the meaning.

If possible, your smile got bigger, “I love you too,”

Externally, everything was quiet and peaceful, but internally, you were screaming and thinking, “Fuckin finally!” over and over again.

This might have been a bad idea for a future you, but screw it.  You’d been waiting for this for long enough, and the same went for Douxie.  You had been through a lot in the past few decades, and you both deserved a goddamn break, and to spend some time with each other.

But clearly, the universe did not agree.

“OI, the king summons you!”  oh wow, and it was Gallahad specifically ruining the moment, which is, what, the second time he’s done that?  He grabbed your boyfriend and shook him around a little before continuing, “Come with me at once!”

“What-”

You and Archie shared a glance of mutual confusion before following the knight and the wizard.

“We have reached the time that’s not the beginning, but not the end!  A half-time, if you will.  Enjoy this match of misfits, my lord!”

“Ugh, I thought the king was in danger, not looking to use my friend as a sideshow,”

“Well, that’s Camelot for you,”  

While the crowd watched Archie burn a gnome to a crisp, you watched Bular, who sat looking extremely bored, in his corner.  Technically speaking, he hadn’t sent spies after you, ordered your torture, or tried to kill your friends yet, but you knew he would one day, and that was enough to set you on edge.

Douxie slipped a hand into yours, squeezing it reassuringly, and you smiled.  You may have been a ball of nerves and edges at that moment, but you still had a heart.

“Now, the formidable Knight of Skulls and his challenger, Sir Clairee of the House of Nuñez!”

Now, you were always down for a good scheme, but this was a little too unexpected.  Your jaw dropped as you watched Claire enter the field dressed in her purple armour.  Without a second thought, both you and Douxie had thrown yourselves over the stand you’d been in to get closer to the girl.

“What is she doing?”

“I think she’s Mulan-ing it,”

Whatever the hell Claire was doing, she did it with style, fighting with grace and elegance in a swirl of purple and black.  She was doing well until her opponent grabbed Steve’s drink and threw it in her face.  The girl fell back and the Knight of Skulls raised his axe above her head.  With no other option, Claire used her magic to throw the guy against the wall.

“Sorcery?  That is forbidden!”

“Yeah, but you have to admit it’s pretty epic,”

Claire didn’t give a shit about what Arthur had to say, something you respected.  The girl got straight to business interrogating the fallen knight.  You didn’t know why she was doing it, but you assumed she had reasons.

Or you did until she flipped the guy’s helmet off revealing a very confused red-haired dude.

Lancelot and another guard grabbed Claire, removing her helmet and revealing that she was, in fact, a woman.  This mattered to no one.  What did matter, was that she had used magic.

“The witch is disqualified!”

“You both fight with no honour!  Begone!”

“Well, that isn’t the worst thing that could have happened,”

“Hail, Morgana!”

“But that is!”

A man with a green glowing blade appeared behind Arthur, prepared to stab him.  Before he had the chance, Claire portaled the assassin out onto the field where he transformed into a troll.

“Oop, changeling,” you muttered, earning a half-smile from Douxie.

The creature laughed as it drew more green knives, one for each of his four hands.  Lovely.

“Yep, changeling.  Protect the king!”  Douxie yelled as said changeling threw two knives.  The blades hit their marks, turning two guards to stone.

The situation somehow got worse as the king entered the fray, jumping in front of the creature.  The changeling, however, did not attack the king, instead, he elected to make your worst nightmares come true.

“Run free, Gumm-Gumm prince,”

“At last!”

“(Y/N), run,” Douxie said before he, too, threw himself right into danger.

As Bular pounced on the king, Douxie created a shield around himself and Arthur.  Upon impact, the sphere-shaped defence rolled away and out of the courtyard.  Bular wasted no time going after them, not even giving you a second glance.  You supposed you should be relieved, but you could feel the hits Douxie was taking, and suddenly relief was out of the question.  

You went to follow the king and your wizard when the kingdom exploded.  You braced yourself for a moment before continuing on your course.  Bombs or not, you were going to protect your wizard.  And also the king.  That was probably important.

You made it out of the yard just in time to see Bular jump through the flames and over the now crumbling walls of Camelot to his freedom.  Cool, dope, the threat to your life was gone.  Now all that was left was the threat to Arthur’s life.

Speaking of, you darted in front of the king, creating a shield just as the changeling attacked.  It bounced off the force-field you’d created, giving you enough time to draw your sword.  Your friends and Lancelot stood tall, protecting the king, weapons at the ready.  It probably looked awesome, but you couldn’t tell.  Fortunately for you, I can tell, and it did look awesome.

“Stay back!”

The creature growled, “Fools, I’ve already won!”

Your eyes widened as you watched explosions surround the castle, each one contained in a force-field of its own.

“Merlin’s tower!”

“Good call with the defences, guys!”

“Yeah, but they won’t last long,”

“Oh no, Douxie,” Archie warned, flying towards you.

“What?”

“The other Douxie!  With the man-bun, in the tower?”

“fUCK!”

“Ohhhhh fUZZBUCKETS!”

You, Douxie and Claire bolted to the castle, but your speed did not stop your snark, “Still not gonna say it?”

“Be patient, love!”

By the time you got to the castle, green smoke was everywhere.  True, it was surrounded by shields, but that didn’t make it any less horrifying.

Douxie was equally horrified, if not more so.  This was his home once, and watching it go up in flames was not a pleasant experience.  It also put the thought of Claire, or worse, you going up in flames into his head, and that made him feel sick.

“(Y/N), Claire, stay here, help the civilians,”

“Are you kidding!?”

“Douxie, we can help!”

You looked around.  The civilians were, in fact, in need of help, and as much as you wanted to help your friends, the people needed you more.  But that didn’t mean Claire had to stick with you.  She was good in a fight, and you were more of a doctor.  It just made sense for them to do this.

“Ok, you guys go, I’ll stay,”

“(Y/N)-” 

You cut off Claire’s protests, “Ah, ah, no, we don’t have time for this, just-” you took a second to kiss Douxie, because you did have time for that,  “Come back to me, ok?”

They both nodded, and you ran off in separate directions.  

Healing calmed you.  Sure, you could fight and whatever else, but healing was your passion.  You hadn’t studied medicine for centuries for nothing.  Taking on your role as a doctor cleared your mind.  You were able to direct people to the safest places, protecting them from falling debris and fixing whatever wounds they had.

Then there was another explosion and your mind went fuzzy again.  You didn’t feel any pain, so Douxie was probably fine, but you were still concerned.  You ran back to where you’d left Steve and the knights, just in time to see the kid get himself knighted.

Everyone was alive, thank god, and they all appeared to be in decent condition, except for past Douxie who was passed out in a barrel.

“Do you have an explanation for that, or should I just assume you’re trying to give your past self head trauma?”

Douxie just laughed, and you hugged him, sticking with the head trauma theory because no other answer had been provided.

You relaxed into his hold, returning the hug, “Hey, can you do me a favour and never run into an exploding building again, please?  Thank you,”

“I don’t plan on it, love,”

You smirked a little as you pulled away from his embrace, your hands remaining intertwined, “Good,  would be worried if you did,”

Douxie laughed again, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you went to check on Claire and Steve.

It was just then that Merlin finally fucking noticed that his two apprentices were getting along.  Even the old wizard had to admit, it was nice seeing you two not trying to murder each other.  It really looked like that binding spell paid off.

A win for team Merlin.

[pendragonfics]

the crown, it weighs heavy ('till it's banging on my eyelids)

Paring: Thranduil/Reader

Tags: Female reader, she/her pronouns for the reader, pre The Hobbit, set in Mirkwood, arranged marriage, healing, injury recovery, angst and hurt/comfort, fluff, romantic fluff, family dynamics

Summary: Sometimes, self-sacrifice affects those around you more than just yourself.

Word Count: 1825

Current Date: 2020-01-22

While you were an accomplished warrior, you were also a queen, a mother by proxy, and a beloved wife. It was your fault; you hadn’t made the wisest of decisions, and that was an understatement. Impulsivity had always been a shortcoming of yours, but that Thranduil had seen it as a blessing. But it wasn’t a blessing this day. No. Your nature had led to cause you pain, and while as much as that it inflicted on those around you, only in the aftermath had it occurred to you.

“You would think, that after all the years I have lived,” you say, wincing through the waves of pain, “that I would know better.”

“It was a foolish endeavour, my Queen,” the healer commented. She looked at you curiously, perhaps wondering you had charged into battle like a common elven woman, rather than someone your station. “…but merited.”

There was little to be merited with the wounds that you now wore.

It was a wonder that the warriors had managed to salvage you from the carnage and transport you in such a manner to the healing you needed. All you remembered from the encounter with the Orcish skirmish was their formation, formidable and ferocious, and the smell of ichor upon the ground. Perhaps your memories were cut short out of the fear of it all, and while you wanted to know what creature gave you three slashes from a poisoned Orc axe, you had to admit that the thought of it was frightening.

Even with poppy milk, the pain was unbearable. The healer must have noticed your pain, and quietly, she motioned to someone you had not noticed, another healer, who held a similar bowl to the one you drank from before. No words were shared as they lowered the bowl to your lips, and drinking your fill once more, you felt your mind fall into a slumber.

One where the pain gained from the battle was not present.

---

You had always known when you were dreaming, even as a young elven maid. It’s how now, you know you are not awake. The meadow is brighter than any woodland area that you have stepped in, and there are no spiders in sight. It’s too good to be a truth universally acknowledged, and when your hand finds your side, the lack of pain confirms it.

Before you, laying on the forest floor, was your son.

He still remembered his true mother, the first queen, and could not find it in his heart to call you his mother, no matter what the marriage between his father and you asked of him. How the council could arrange such a match, no less than five hundred years after the loss of the first Queen of Mirkwood, made your stomach recoil. But you were an eligible elven maid of Lothlórien, and he was a King without a queen. The only reason you didn’t cut your elven locks and abscond to the world of Men was the rumours of the young prince, alone while his father kept the kingdom.

Quietly, you settle beside Legolas. He looks to you briefly. But sets his attention to the bow placed by his feet.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you a brother,” you whisper, soft.

“I don’t need a brother.” He says, fidgeting with his bow. “I need a mother.”

The meadow seems to grow as he speaks, and what was a small patch of greenery inside the forest has turned into a glade, metamorphosed into a secret garden full of delightful flora and fauna. You look over his shoulder and see rabbits bounding through, a family of skunks, and flying above, robins and fairywrens. But his gaze is on the rabbits, a fuzzy white one, still.

“War isn’t a game, Legolas,” you place a hand upon his shoulder, but he shrugs from your touch.

“Then why do you play games with your life?” he turns.

His face has changed. In fact, he is no longer Legolas. It would seem that he has transformed into his father, the man who you had learned to love after the arranged marriage. He has the same eyes as his son, and while Thranduil’s hair is ice white, a blonde to rival the stars, his sons’ was maturing, finer than straw. The shift caught you off guard and staring at your love, you felt the words grow cold in your mouth before you summoned breath to speak.

“I -,”

“You are dearer to me than you can ever comprehend…more than I can put words to. I cannot lose you, melissë.”

You reach for him, but the bow that was at Legolas’ feet is between you, growing, changing from a weapon to a ravine, dividing you from one another. You reach for him, but your side aches, and while one hand of yours stretches for your husband, your love, the other holds your aching abdomen.

It was a dream. It had to be a dream, as no life you had lived was so finicky in detail. But the pain in your side, the red that stained your hand as it withdrew…it made you wonder what a dream was, and what was real to you.

“Thranduil!”

---

When you wake, you are not in the Healer’s room. There is little light in the room, you find as your eyes adjust, but the window is ajar, and the moonlight’s silvery-grey touch spills over the sill and upon the floor beside where you lay. Your heart is still racing from the dream, you know now that it was but a dream, but the pain in your side was not imagined. You had gone onto the battlefield, and slain monsters and Orcs alike to protect what you loved.

And despite the pain you were in, you’d do it all over again.

“The moon is the brightest tonight, as are the stars,” a familiar voice spoke.

Turning your head, you saw him. Ever the dramatic man, he sat in his best robes in the dimmest side of the room, his perch beside the bed close enough for your eyes to see the tiredness on his face, but too far for your arm to reach for his. But despite this, you reached for your husband’s hand, and he took it in his. Slowly, he threaded his fingers through your own.

“You are missing out on the festival,” you whisper.

“There wouldn’t be a festival if it weren’t for you,” he replies. “and I am ever grateful for you.”

You sigh. “I’d do it again, always for you. But…” you look to the cot you are confined to, “what a price to pay to save the life of the man that I love.”

He undoes his grasp then, moving from the chair he sat in. King Thranduil was as beautiful now as he was the day you married him, and the day you fell in love with him. But there is something behind his eyes that makes you reconsider your words, now that they have left your mouth.

“I…I have done wrong,” you whisper.

“You could have died!” he chastises.

He turns to the window and places his gaze beyond the room you both inhabit. You watch as the movement causes his robes to float around his legs, his pace now as slow as a tree, rooted to the earth where he now stands. The moonlight climbs the material, and as glittering as it is, it is magnified, and you can see thousands of refractions from every single strand of gilded thread.

“I -,” you stammer, “You could have died, husband, my Lórien!” you muster the strength, but once again, you feel powerless as soon as you speak. “You are a ruler, and I did my duty. The woodland would not be as it is, without you!”

“I could never live with myself if you died,” he whispers. At the moment when you spoke, you hadn’t realised that he had returned to his seat beside the bed, and the change in tone sends a chill through your spine in shock. While you know that fact, hearing it from the man that you had grown to love affirms it, makes it real. “I barely survived after…after her, but the Gods are kind today, and - you are here.”

Instead of reaching for your husband’s hand, you lean upward, as if to leave the cot. He recoils, but when you reach behind yourself - and odd sight, a Queen fluffing her own pillows - Thranduil watches as you, now half-sitting up, regard him. Your eyes are at a similar height, and now equal, you smile to him.

“I am not done with you, or Legolas yet, my love.” You say. “The Gods cannot claim me yet, no matter how hard they try.”

“You are truly a formidable woman.” He smirks, the pain has gone from his face in brief. Slowly, he leans his face toward you, but before he can come to you the rest of the way, you reach for the front of his robes and close the distance between the pair of your lips. “…ah, melinyel.”

---

By the next festival of light, you are healed enough to train once more, but when the Healers tell you this, you decline the offers from the guard to re-learn to fight. There is no commotion or change in the way that you are perceived. Before becoming the Queen of Mirkwood, you weren’t a titled elven woman. Your blood, that of Galadriel’s heritage, had gotten you only so far in life, and in order to go ahead in life, you had to fight.

“I would ask why you rescinded the offer to rehabilitate yourself with your blade, but I feel as if I already know the answer,” Thranduil commented, looking toward you with a sly look in his eye. These days, he had brightened up, become more open toward you with his feelings. Perhaps all it had taken was the flesh wound you sustained, or the realisation of mortality to himself and you, immortal beings.

“Do continue,” you say.

Legolas runs ahead of you, playing with an elf he had made friends with. Her red hair glints in the sunlight like fire, and he is like ice, but they play as if they are forged from the same kiln. Beside you, Thranduil has your arm linked in his, and while you are healed from the injury, he is always mindful of the lingering pain that acts as if a ghost beneath your skin.

“You are…content,” he says, finally. Kissing your cheek, your jaw, your earlobe, he continues, “I am not suggesting you were not before, but now, there is a comfortability in your life here. I see it in your eyes, you are, dare I say, happy?”

“Oh, Thranduil…that’s almost word-for-word from my writings,” you beam, kissing his cheek.

“But I am correct, yes?” he asks.

“Don’t ever change, my true melissë.”

[mecharlie-fox]

Reunion at Dawn [Fire Emblem Heroes Style]

I swear I’m going to kill myself once I start drawing this... AHEM

This is based on what we know so far from Book 4 Chapter 12 (and Fire Emblem 3 Houses where this scene is originally from), proceed with your own caution. You have been warned of spoilers.

I based this on an idea because of the settings and characters of my fanfic series called “The Ballad of Summoners” on Archive of Our Own. In my fic, Kiran (her real name is Valen) was born and raised a warrior - so she’s more than just the Summoner. But I won’t put this on the fanfic so this is a whole “What if” basis because I had an idea that FeH MIGHT do a timeskip - basing on past games? But I doubt it... (unless we get a legendary Alfonse as King why not)

Alfonse was given one more chance at life. Alfaðör had taken him away from his loved ones to punish the Summoner who defied the wishes of the almighty. The King of the Gods has always been in fear of what the Vanir gods have told him - the future that destiny had written for him. The future he wished to defy.

But he couldn’t deny destiny. No one could. It is said that Alfaðör’s future will be his death by the hands of a Vanir child.

And those who are connected by destiny will always find each other. Alfaðör’s Queen, Frigg was one out of the very few who could go against the magic of the Almighty, her husband, her enemy. She who was once the Vanir Queen, the Vanir god in which the mortals have prayed for protection and peace - felt pity towards the Vanir child who prayed for her prince to return to her. 

And in a way, the god hoped that destiny will have its way. As it always did.

One more chance, she gave him. And Alfonse didn’t plan on wasting it. Although he was warned that the world he once knew would be nothing but a fragment of his memory, for time has passed while he slumbers within the shielded, golden halls of the gods.

He walked through the empty halls of the castle where the Order of Heroes once stood. Halls where buzzing Heroes and dedicated troops would do their patrols and report to the Summoner afterwards, and later that evening, Kiran would be reviewing the reports with dedication and care. He didn’t know what happened.

How could this happen?

The castle hasn’t been cared for, everything was thrown aside as if a typhon had passed by. Doors were broken down, cracks on the wall, pillars falling down, papers scattered. But he continued walking as the sun slowly came up, and greet another day. 

He found himself climbing up the stairs of the training tower, where Kiran would always monitor the Heroes progress as individuals and as groups. Alfonse always valued her insight on where they lacked, what they should improve - despite not being of their world, she knew what to say, what to do - because they understand their pain. As a warrior herself who was forced to be on the battlefield to protect those she loved, her home.

As he reached the peak of the tenth stratum, the sun welcomed the sight as the beam of light illuminated the room through the windows. Alfonse could see a figure right at the corner of the stratum - holding a familiar blade piercing the floor. Walking under the light, he could see the visible, sorrowful expression of a woman holding Fólkvangr. 

Yes, the legendary weapon that was once forged by the gods themselves.

Kiran’s pale grey eyes who were once filled with confidence and hope, were now replaced with anger and hatred. Alfonse couldn’t help but walk towards her, offering his hand. He expected her to take it, as she always did. But instead - she replied coldly as she looked down on the ground, gripping onto Fólkvangr’s handle tightly. 

To her, he was nothing more than a ghost, offering his hand to her so she may join him up in Valhalla. “I should have known... that one day, you would be haunting me as well.”

Alfonse’s heart shattered into hundreds or even thousands of pieces. He didn’t know for how long he’s been gone. Kiran looked older, more mature - eyes filled with nothing but negative emotions, as if she lost her path from life.

Those who are tied by destiny, will always find each other. “What must I do to get rid of you?” Alfonse was taken aback from the Summoner’s change of a more aggressive tone. She knew that look - he always gave her that look. When? She asked herself. Since when did she start hating his eyes? “I will kill the gods I swear it! Please don’t look upon me with pity in your eyes!”

“Hey...” Alfonse crouched down in front of her. He needed to be gentle. Life has been so cruel to her already. “Everything will be alright.”

Kiran’s eyes widen. “You... you’re... you’re alive?!” Have the Vanir gods finally answered her prayers? But she quickly shook her head, it was all too good to be true. The gods have no mercy that’s why they’re gods. “No... no...  Alfaðör sent you to kill me, didn’t he? He won’t stop until I’m dead. Until every Summoner across the realms are dead...”

“Kiran... that’s not...” he couldn’t imagine what she’s been through. His heart felt heavy with the burden of guilt. He left her... no... he abandoned her. “I’m glad that you’re alright.”

“Am I?” She asked without meeting his gaze. To the Summoner, she was already dead. Living through the shadows of the past that rings through the ruin halls of the order of heroes.

Tell me if y’all want a part 2 or have me continue this AU.

[no-error]

Fantasy Klance Ficrec

Finally new list for fic recs. Hope ya all enjoy these awesome fics. :)

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Of Wolves and Wisps

Lance knows not to seek with his mind in the woods. The fae have a habit of twisting the desires sought by those who chase after the wisps. But when given no other choice, Lance makes the decision to alter his path. To change his fate.

He should have known, really, how things would turn out.

Never call out to wolves. One may just answer.

Words: 145,585 AO3

The Criminal Witch and His Knight of a Husband

Series

Under the rule of an unjust king, witches not employed by the crown had become illegal in the kingdom of Altea. Not wanting to work for a filthy murderer of a man, Lance spitefully refused to get his certification at the normal age of sixteen. But that was over half a decade ago. Altea is now ruled by the beautiful and reasonable Queen Allura, and Lance finds himself happily married to her head knight, despite his fugitive status.

Lance struggles with helping hot headed, prone to danger Keith stay alive, while simultaneously keeping his ability to cast spells a secret. He can't have him figuring anything out. After all, the last thing he wants is for his own husband to arrest him.

Words: 80,309 AO3

Star Cursed

A Dragon familiar is the last thing Lance expects to summon when he graduates lowest in the class at the Magerium. All he wants to do is summon a toad or a cat and get to work, but summoning a High Magic creature like a Dragon is something no one has done in hundreds of years. The Dragon, named Keith (why, WHY is he named Keith), is trained to be a familiar for the most powerful of mages.

Unluckily for him, Lance is assigned the task of lesser potions master. Lance has to navigate a precarious balance of grumpy-Dragon-with-nothing-to-do on top of his workload of boring tasks. That’s when he isn’t enduring the ridicule of the other students, who believe him to be “Star Cursed.” To make matters worse, discontent in the Magerium is brewing and it might mean danger for all High Magic creatures, which currently includes one Dragon named Keith

Words: 152,239 AO3

fit the crown to my head

“What’s the fun in a masquerade if you don’t flirt outrageously with the prettiest person in the room?” the young man says flippantly, and then winks at Keith. Keith huffs a laugh, amused.

“You keep saying things like that, but you haven’t seen my face,” he says, gesturing to his mask. “I could have warts under here. I could have spots, or scars.”

“You’d be lovely even with all of those,” the young man says, and he suddenly sounds serious. It takes Keith by surprise, makes his heart twist along with his stomach. “Your eyes,” he continues, tilting his head. “I’ve never seen eyes like yours before.”

Words: 75,705 AO3

Magic Bound & Unbound

Set in a world where familiars and witches are paired to perform magic together, Lance is an aspiring witch who is desperate to find his bondmate. He's dreamed of the day when he would be able to perform bonded magic, but hides a dark secret that could ruin everything. Keith is a familiar who's seen a little too much of the world. He's been paired with witches multiple times and each one has forced and broken a bond on him, so now he swears off ever letting himself be paired again.

When they meet, though, Lance triggers something in Keith and it scares the hell out of him. A part of him desperately wants to be paired, but he's not sure he can take rejection one more time.

Words: 56,345 AO3

Regarding Park Benches and Demon Bites

Lance forces his eyes open, all the way this time. It takes them a second to adjust, and when they do, his stomach plummets to the center of the earth. The man is in a black shirt, the sleeves rolled up on his forearms to reveal the runes inked across his pale skin. There’s a sword strapped across his back, a big one.

“You’re a Shadowhunter,” Lance blurts. Lance’s mother had warned him about getting mixed up with these bloodthirsty maniacs, and here he is, half conscious next to the very people he’d worked so hard to avoid the last two years. He’s fucked. Royally screwed. He isn’t sure what kind of punishment is handed out to warlocks for public intoxication but his mind races through options like indefinite imprisonment, dismemberment, death?

Words: 8,999 AO3

you build your tower (but call me home)

In the land of Arus, the youngest Nalquodian prince—Prince Leandro—is hidden away in a little castle that overlooks the kingdom; a countermeasure to protect him from the Galran assassins that have sworn to take his life.

And in the tallest tower of the castle, behind a grimy rose window and under a dusty sheet, is an enchanting gargoyle that the prince finds himself compelled to visit every day.

Almost as if by a spell...

Words: 63,041 AO3

Wild Magic

The Vastaya are an ancient and proud race, born of magic and man, and they are dying. The spread of humans makes the magic of their homelands run thin. What is left is preyed upon and corrupted by the rising galra influence.

After losing their home, what remains of the Marmora tribe scatters, fighting the spread of corruption where they can. For the last few centuries, this is the only life Keith has known. And with Shiro’s disappearance, he’s more alone than ever. But he keeps going, even if it means losing himself. For the fight. For his people. For their future. For his homelands. For magic.

The last thing he expected to find is another feathered vastaya, one with wings that shine like the sky and move like waves when he dances. He never asked for company, never wanted it. But as Keith finds himself growing fond of Lance’s flippant attitude and determined blue eyes, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t want to fight alone anymore.

Words: 151,776 AO3

A Touch of Magic

"Keith—" He feels his heart lurch as Keith squats down next to him. One hand on his wolf's head, scratching behind his ear. His eyes, however, remain fixed on Lance, and he had really hoped that the whole dry-mouth-lump-in-the-throat-heart-skipping-a-beat thing would've stopped happening when he turned, but here he is. Vampiric and still the flustered mess he was when he was human. "Buddy, I can't breathe—"

"You don't have to breathe," He says, that ghost of a smile still fixed and the whisper of amusement in his voice.

It sends chills down his spine.

Lance huffs as much as he can when there's a large wolf crushing his chest. "That doesn't mean it's not uncomfortable."

"You'll survive." He pats his wolf one last time before pushing to his feet. "Better luck next time, Lance."

"I'll get you one day, Keithy boy." He calls out as Keith walks away, disappearing from his vision and continuing down the path. "Just you wait."

Words: 19,953 AO3

For Fox Sake

Foxtail series

Photography has always been an passion of Keith's. Being able to capture that perfect moment - grant it immortality and unleash it to the world so that the people may decide what stories they tell - is what he lives for.

So when given the opportunity to expand his horizons, Keith finds himself on a month long excursion in the middle of nowhere, with only his camera and his own thoughts to keep him company.

And this forest - this mountainous landscape seemingly untouched by human hands - holds more than just a vast array of scenic landscapes and wondrous wildlife worthy of being captured in film.

It holds a secret. One Keith hadn't anticipated discovering, much less believing. And though they say "take only pictures, leave only footprints", Keith worries that when he finally has to return to his mundane world, he'll be leaving more than just tracks on the ground.

But his heart has always belonged to the woods, and he knows the fox will guard it well.

Words: 80,888 AO3

Ghost on the Shore

After moving into an desolated house in a swamp, Keith finds that the area's not as abandoned as he anticipated. He soon meets Lance, a mysterious boy that apparently lives out in the marsh, and who seems to possess magical powers to a certain degree.

Words: 37,055 AO3

It Never Rains on Saturday

Rain or Shine Series

In the magical kingdom of Altea lies an ominous tower filled with monsters. Every day, adventurers battle through the tower’s levels in a never-ending quest to slay the Demon King who lives at the very top.

Lance, a talented archer, is one such adventurer. However, Lance doesn’t want to kill the Demon King.

Lance wants to marry him.

Words: 22,726 AO3

Nameless

Lance McClain was not pale. He enjoyed the sun as much as any other, and though he was often run down or fatigued, this was due to his steadily amounting college work, not his need to sleep upside down. He was everything a vampire wasn't. Oh, except for his constant cravings for blood, and the name in cursive permanently scrawled over his wrist.

Since the name had appeared on Lance's thirteenth birthday, he'd been desperately waiting for the day he'd finally meet his soulmate. And it finally comes, the first day of his second year of college, delivering a boy that causes everything Lance had fantasized to come crashing down around him. Not only is his mate a human, but he's the kind of human that despises vampires. A hunter named Keith.

But matters of the heart aren't the only thing standing in Lance's way, for a much greater enemy is on the horizon, posing a threat not only to Lance and his family, but to Keith, too. The nameless are coming for them, and soon.

Words: 102,409 AO3

Were-woof

Living off the grid is one thing. Keith had been doing it his whole life. However, now that the mountain he has lived on his whole live is slowly being developed thanks to a ski resort it's getting harder and harder for Keith to keep to himself. Especially when he happens to catch the eye of a rather cute looking townie.

Words: 133,954 AO3

An Eternal Flame

“Do you have a deathwish?” The phoenix answers him with a question this time, apparently intent on dodging the question about its name. Maybe it’s for the best, Lance’s mama always warned him that he tended to get attached to things once he’d named them. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath.

He isn’t going to get attached this time.

Making sure that he’s still holding the phoenix’s attention, he reaches down and pushes his cloak aside, then lifts his shirt. There, bright red and ugly against his hip, are three long slashes. They aren’t scars, they aren’t healed in the slightest, they’re still red and open wounds. They don’t hurt, not in the physical sense, but Lance can’t help the repulsion he feels whenever he looks at them.

“Not a deathwish, a death sentence.”

Words: 63,692 AO3

[beyondmistland]

Fire & Blood Rewrite: Daella Targaryen

               Though frail and somewhat simple-minded, Daella had a gentle heart, becoming a constant fixture at her mother's charities and women's courts alongside the Lady Jocelyn, whose daughter, Rhaenys, she doted upon. Thus, it came as no surprise that when the princess turned sixteen (80 AC) she chose Rodrik Arryn to be her future husband. (Given her small size, the king and queen agreed that Daella should not be wed before her eighteenth nameday. They also agreed that she should wed outside of the family. "To show the realm that Our Favor is not unjust," Alysanne explained to one of her ladies-in-waiting.)

               Though new to King's Landing Rodrik had quickly grown popular with court and commons alike for he was both a loving husband and a good father. (His first wife, Alyssa of House Dutton, had died that same year of an evil growth inside her heart.)

               All agreed they were a fine match and so two years later they were wed on Dragonstone. The bride and groom's closest kin were the only ones in attendance. (To everyone's confusion, Vaegon deigned to appear.)

Ø  Vaegon developed an odd friendship with his older sister, Septa Maegelle, over the issue of Greyscale when both were sent away in 73 AC. As a result, he failed to recover from the shock of her untimely death in 96 AC, growing so pale and frail that many mistook him for a ghost when Jaehaerys summoned him to King's Landing late in 101 AC. Alas, the journey back proved too much for Vaegon to endure and so the youngest Archmaester Oldtown had ever known died at Tumbleton that same year. He was thirty-eight years old.

               On the last day of the year (82 AC) Daella gave birth to her first child following a long and difficult labor. Two years later (84 AC) she gave birth to her second child though the labor left her bedridden for well over a fortnight. Upon recovering, she told her lord husband "two is enough" and he agreed.

Ø  Aemma Arryn grew to be a bold and beautiful woman who "knew her answer to any question before it was even asked". At her own request, Aemma wed her cousin, Viserys, late in 97 AC. Aemma possessed the blonde hair of House Arryn and the purple eyes of House Targaryen. (After Prince Baelon's death in 105 AC, she drowned herself in Blackwater Bay. The queen was twenty-three years old.)

Ø  Aenar Arryn grew to be a polemic knight full of "queer thoughts". He had one child, Alysanne (or "Alys" for short), who married Prince Aegon Targaryen in 119 AC. (She died of a chest cold in 128 AC. The lady was twenty-seven years old.) Aenar possessed the brown hair of House Shett and the purple eyes of House Targaryen. (His paternal grandmother was from Gulltown.) In 100 AC he married the only child of Philip Reyne and Arra Kenning: Asha (or "Lady Ash" as he preferred to call her). The wedding attendants included Queen Alysanne, Princess Aemma, Princess Rhaenys, Lady Jocelyn, and Prince Baelon. (Queen Alysanne died a fortnight later.) Aenar's wife died of Greyscale in 118 AC. (The lady was thirty-five years old) He was one of the princess's fiercest partisans but also an enemy of her paternal uncles. He was exiled from King's Landing for inciting a riot against Queen Alicent's brothers, who were accused by him of having poisoned Queen Aemma. Aenar died of a sudden fever in 111 AC. He was twenty-seven years old. His grandson was born in 121 AC. His grandson was named for Lord Aerion. His grandson's mount was named Seath. (Previously claimed by Alysanne. Seath had blue eyes and white scales.) Prince Aegon's mount was named Smough. (Red of eye. Black of scale.)

Ø  During her brief tenure as Lady of the Eyrie the princess became famous for commissioning translations of The Seven-Pointed Star and for sponsoring the Septons who went abroad to bring heathen souls into the light of the Faith. In this Daella was undoubtedly inspired by her older sister, Septa Maegelle, who she frequently corresponded with. (Septa Rhaella, on the other hand, became one of the Most Devout, attending the Great Council of 101 AC as well as the coronation of Viserys I before dying of old age in 105 AC.)

Ø  Though she found Alyssa frightening Daella sent her older sister many gifts upon hearing of Prince Aegon's birth late in 83 AC. (In return, Alyssa visited her sister while on her first progress in 84 AC.)

Ø  When Princess Alyssa and her namesake both died late in 84 AC Daella comforted her mother by coming back to court.

                In 89 AC Daella built a new motherhouse for bastard children to honor her sister and grandmother's memory. While observing the builders at their work a tile fell from the rafters, knocking her insensate. The princess died three days later without ever waking up. She had counted five-and-twenty years on this earth. (As the queen lit her funeral pyre, she said, "Now comes the winter of Our Heart". Though the king's response was blunter, it was no less genuine. "We have lived too long.")

Ø  A dirge was sung for her by Lady Jocelyn and Princess Gael.

Ø  Rodrik Arryn died the following year (90 AC) of a broken heart. He was forty-six years old.

[radiance1]

Shazam except give him a big cape. Like Batman cape big.

Why?

Because I had the idea of his cape having a summoning circle that Danny just, appears from. To everyone else it looks like Danny was just always there or something as he steps out from it.

Due to becoming the ghost prince Danny has to get himself a summoning circle because he's a being of great status, unfortunately Danny himself doesn't really wanna be, you know, summoned.

His summoning circle is just slightly different from the Ghost King's, i.e Pariah Dark's. So if someone got Danny's wrong it legitimately wouldn't because Pariah is sealed (and he isn't gonna be answering anytime soon) and it's the ghost king's and not the prince's so.

Then he met Shazam, and since his circle was supposed to be at least known by one person at the very least, he decided to give it to him because they hit it off real goddamn well.

Does he know that Shazam is actually a kid, and does Shazam know that Danny is actually also a kid?

Nope.

Both of them think the other is just some really old guy who just integrated really well to modern culture.

[jonlovessansa]

THE SUMMERWINE

DISCLAIMER: In light of the recent leaks, and some consequent worry, I decided to reveal one of the clues I found in the books that confirms Jon/Sansa and at the same time PoliticalJon. It is neither the biggest nor the sweetest to me... but it is the first one I found, the one that allowed me to discover all the others, and since it basically does nothing but confirm the theory that we all supported in the past months, plus some recent spoilers, I think I won't ruin anyone's party by revealing it. Now, for those of you who rightfully prefer to watch the new season for confirmations, I'm going to put a wall here, you decide whether to look beyond to see the burning candle…

As we all probably know by now, GRRM loves his symbolism, and that often results in wondering what he is really talking about most of the time, what he’s hinting at, even if the answer is right there in plain sight. I’d say confusion is the main key for GRRM!

That's what happens with the wine and the scenes that involve the wine, by which we learn some important things that I think are no news for many of you. The show made some changes, but remaining in the books, I’m going to tell you briefly.

Starting with the ARBOR GOLD, that we find it’s linked to LIES. We’re informed directly by Littlefinger:

“We shall serve him lies and Arbor gold, and he’ll drink them down and ask for more, I promise you... You see the wonders that can be worked with lies and Arbor gold?” (AFFC - SANSA I)

And thanks to him, Sansa learns it too:

“Lies and Arbor gold, she thought. "I am Alayne, Father. Who else would I be?" .

But the examples are numerous: Baelish serves arbor gold while scheming and lying to his guests; Illyrio offers it to Tyrion while telling him the fake story of fAegon; fAegon says Varys gave a jug to fdeadAegon’s father for the hypothetical switching; Sansa and Tyrion drink it during their unconsummated wedding night; it’s the wine of Ramsey and fArya wedding… and so on.

Then there is the ARBOR RED, which is used to hide poisons and poisonous intentions: Joffrey drinks a poisoned cup before dying, Tyrion uses it to drug Cersei, Maester Cressen tries to kill Melisandre with a poisoned cup of it, only to be the one who ends up dead instead...

There’s still so much more to say, but let’s move on to the precise topic of this post.

The SUMMERWINE

RED. DORNISH. SWEET. SUMMER. WINE. 

Don’t you think it’s pretty clear what we’re talking about here just by reading that? But in AGOT King Robert spills the truth, GRRM way, to convince Ned to go to King’s Landing:

Flowers everywhere, the markets bursting with food, the summerwines so cheap and so good that you can get drunk just breathing the air. Everyone is fat and drunk and rich." He laughed and slapped his own ample stomach a thump. "And the girls, Ned!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling. "I swear, women lose all modesty in the heat. They swim naked in the river, right beneath the castle. Even in the streets, it's too damn hot for wool or fur, so they go around in these short gowns, silk if they have the silver and cotton if not, but it's all the same when they start sweating and the cloth sticks to their skin, they might as well be naked." The king laughed happily. (AGOT - NED I)

The reference is clear for me: in King’s Landing you can find in every corner the easiest version of LOVE, the kind that you can find in one of the many brothels the city seems to be famous for...

With this important symbolism it’s interesting that in the books we have very few mentions of the SUMMERWINE, and only three times they are significant, all in A GAME OF THRONES: JON I, SANSA II, DAENERYS VI.

In both Jon and Sansa’s chapters the setting is very similar: there’s a feast (Winterfell’s Great Hall for King Robert / in King’s Landing for The Hand’s Tourney), the music of the singers (playing the high harp and reciting a ballad /filling the dusk with music), a knight (Jamie, the Lion of Lannister /Loras, a true knight), an uncle (Benjen /Jaime), a dog (the Hound/Ghost) and a fool (Robb, grinning like a fool /Moon Boy, the king's own fool). Among all these common ingredients, the best part is that Jon and Sansa both get drunk on summerwine for the first time. 

“(Joffrey) raised his hand to summon a servant with a flagon of iced summerwine, and poured her a cup... The servants kept the cups filled all night, yet afterward Sansa could not recall ever tasting the wine. She needed no wine. She was drunk on the magic of the night.” (AGOT - SANSA II)

Sansa is drunk on summerwine even if she doesn’t actually drink it, which means that she is only drunk on the promise of the beautiful life in front of her, like probably every sweet romantic child in her position. She’s not in love with Joffrey, she doesn’t know him at this point, she doesn’t know what a monster he is. She is in love with the idea of being in love with the Prince, being betrothed to him, becoming a Queen, of all her dreams of princesses and knights coming true. She is only drunk with the idea of summerwine!

But do you know who is realllllllly drunk in love on summerwine? Jon is! 

”He settled back in his place on the bench among the younger squires and drank. The sweet, fruity taste of summerwine filled his mouth and brought a smile to his lips... Down here on the benches, there was no one to stop Jon drinking as much as he had a thirst for. And he was finding that he had a man’s thirst, to the raucous delight of the youths around him, who urged him on every time he drained a glass... Jon had started drinking then, and he had not stopped... He swallowed another gulp of wine... Benjen Stark straddled the bench with long legs and took the wine cup out of Jon’s hand. “Summerwine,” he said after a taste. “Nothing so sweet. How many cups have you had, Jon?” Jon smiled. Ben Stark laughed. “As I feared. Ah, well. I believe I was younger than you the first time I got truly and sincerely drunk.” (AGOT - JON I)

The show, again, hid some important clues by not having Jon attending the feast, but what remains the same is his request to uncle Benjen to go with him to the Wall and so have a chance to be a knightly kind of honourable man (like Lord Royce son Waymar, just to pick someone at random...) even if he’s a bastard.

It’s also useful to point out that in this occasion, we see FOR THE ONE AND ONLY TIME IN ALL THE BOOKS, jealous Jon flourishing:

-“Joffrey, younger than Jon or Robb, but taller than either, to Jon’s VAST DISMAY”;

-“Sansa looked RADIANT as she walked beside him”; “Prince Joffrey had his sister’s hair and his mother’s deep green eyes. A thick tangle of blond curls dripped down past his golden choker and high velvet collar… but Jon did not like Joffrey’s pouty lips“; but what he thinks of Jaime, who looks exactly like the young Prince? He was “tall and golden, with flashing green eyes and a smile that cut like a knife… Jon found it hard to look away from him. This is what a king should look like” (if Joffrey looks like Jamie and Jaime looks like a king, then Joffrey looks like a king too... just saying!)

From other POV we also learn that: 

-  while there’s a hunt with the king to provide a very wild boar for the feast, “Jon and his wolf were nowhere to be found”; “Jon seemed to be angry at everyone these days.” (BRAN) 

- when Jon gives Arya “Needle”, he explicitly tells her: “And whatever you do...” Arya knew what was coming next. They said it together “Don’t... tell... Sansa!”. But talking with Sansa about Prince Joffrey Aria says: “Jon says he looks like a girl”. (ARYA) I think he forgot to tell her to shut up this particular time!

How can I say it simply: 

JON HAS ALWAYS HAD FEELINGS FOR HIS SISTER

and that’s it! I know many of you don’t like the idea very much and I really wanted to make a post about it to get everyone on board because in the books there are interesting things on the matter (I still have hope for a flashback of little Jon and little Sansa). I didn’t for lack of time and some specific spoilers... (if you want you can read HERE and HERE where I explain it a tiny bit), but remember that they were children, both in love with the stories of chivalry and heroism, it’s easy to think that sweet little Sansa was his precious jewel to protect, like she probably was for Robb; in the purest way, the same way your older brother is your hero when you’re a baby girl.

But then the “bastard” word came in and everything changed: Jon, already rejected from Catelyn, the only mother he’s ever known, was forced to distance himself from both of them, and probably started to develop not less pure but different feelings, born primarily from an instinct of love and protectiveness that he couldn’t possibly satisfy. That’s when it all became muddled. And, well, he has Targaryen blood in his veins…

But let’s see what happens in DAENERYS VI so I can close this case. I sum up the important part because it is too long:

At the WESTERN market Dany comes across a wine merchant: a small man from Lys (known as LYS THE LOVELY and THE PERFUMED SISTER), slender and handsome, his flaxen hair curled, who has a sweet red from Dorne that sings of plums and cherries and rich dark oak; he says: “A cask, a cup, a swallow? One taste, and you will name your child after me”. “I will try your summerwine,” she says. But then the merchant realizes that she is THE MOTHER OF DRAGONS and responds to her: “That? Dornish swill. It is not worthy of a princess. I have a dry red from the Arbor, crisp and delectable. Please, let me give you a cask …there is no finer drink.” She accepts: “You honor me, ser.” But Jorah stops her and says “I have a thirst” and sniffs the wine, frowning. It turns out that the wine is poisoned because King Robert wants her dead: “No. He cannot have my son.. The Usurper has woken the dragon now” she told herself, and her eyes went to the dragon’s eggs resting in their nest of dark velvet… Was it madness that seized her then, born of fear? Or some strange wisdom buried in her blood? Dany could not have said. She heard her own voice saying, “Ser Jorah, light the brazier.”  

Sooooo…..

A SLENDER and HANDSOME man with CURLED HAIR and SMALL of stature,

who comes from THE LOVELY and PERFUMED SISTER

offers Daenerys a swallow of his sweet red Dornish wine, i.e. SUMMERWINE, i.e. LOVE, promising her a child named after him. 

But knowing she’s the MOTHER OF DRAGONS

what he really intends to give her is a poisoned ARBOR RED, which comes FROM THE REACH. 

She has no reason not to trust the courteous man, she is HONORED that he thinks she deserves his most precious load

So she accepts his offer. But Jorah, who has A THIRST like the man’s thirst Jon had the night of the feast when Sansa looked RADIANT and he was jealous,

senses that something is wrong. He is right. So she goes berserk: “HE WON’T HAVE MY CHILD” (I let you decide if she is symbolically speaking of a baby or a dragon), a MADNESS seizes her… and so she decides it’s time to LIGHT A PIT...

Sounds familiar?

Enjoy the new season guys...

Thanks for listening!

P.S. All the gifs are from GOOGLE

[rpgchoices]

Heaven’s Vault part 8: empress’ extra lore (part 1)

Last part of the Heaven’s Lore parts! Here I decided to put the additions from my third playthrough.

In my first playthrough I basically tried to get Enkei as soon as possible. I investigated the Hideout Moon without Enkei, then I managed to investigate the Withering Palace and get Enkei. I will add the extra information by location.

HIDEOUT MOON

Some extra information in the third playthrough just comes from the fact that the hermit was definitely killed by the last emperor. 

And this time the tomb said “Be silent in death”, clearly the emperor was afraid the hermit would return to reveal his hideout. Furthermore, from later information, we know that the emperor engraved on the water goddess’ temple to make it a burial site for his sister. He hid his sister’s foil in the goddess’ figurine and stole both robot collar/projector and stone grave from Ghost Wake.

The Ghost Wake map was clearly a request to be buried back where the rivers flow and return to the loop.

Renba’s ship was burning, the idea is that the tried to use new propellant to depart from the moon, and that was probably the crystal that he found in the Serpent’s Eye moon (tracking it from the digging site).

WITHERING PALACE

I still had Six at the Withering Palace but some new translations appeared and they were quite interesting. 

First of all, the books seem to confirm being ancient and having passages like “No people wanted robots return”. As we know, the library has been destroyed, and the murales seems to show the people died in making the neural mesh hopper.

Some interesting things confirm that the miners were the one who started the fall of Iox. There is an inscrption about “our anger” and the palace of princes is Iox.

In the hole underneath the palace, Aliya also finds a mining pick and other things are found to be related to the age of steel site.

We know that the hopper was ancient (from the aquifer) and carefully engineered during Enkei’s reign to function in a way that can trap the neural mesh into a foil. This was probably done before her time, and she simply tried to recreate it herself to turn into a goddess.

Coming back with Oroi lets us summon Enkei from the overwritten layers of Six’s foil.

THE GRAVEYARD MOON

Nothing new at the entrance, but going to the burial markers, some scripts are different. Enkei doesn’t seem to know the place, or really anything about it and we know it was built after she was long dead. She still recognizes the oldest tomb and is very harsh when Aliya takes the collar, but she doesn't give any explanations. Because she doesn't seem to know what the place was, as it was built after her, it could be that she was never placed there, but maybe that robot collar and tomb was supposed to be there. She seems to believe that all emperors should defame the previous one, so maybe the emperor after her wanted nothing to do with her. Or simply, that tomb is not supposed to be Enkei’s but someone who was dear to her (her father whom she deposed?).

If that is her tomb, then my theory is that she was copying age of steel info and trying to put herself in a robot. She was a robot for some time, maybe, until she was betrayed by someone who knew command words in ancient and she was trapped with other servos and robots under the Withering Palace. Her original collar was taken out and put into the Graveyard, so the empress herself was never there.

Someone (miners?) had to give her back a collar for the projection so that she could use the ancient word to control and command other robots. Her primary user (a miner?) then probably betrayed her and buried her on Iox with the other robots, after trying to wipe them.

She also confirms that the weeping goddess was the goddess of death.

“I speak for the silent” seems to be quite a non-empress quote, tho.

Still, we find out that the foil from the hideout moon is the last emperor’s sister, or a relative of him. He clearly cared a lot about this girl, and she probably died very young.

THE MARKET PLACE

Enkei doesn’t give any additional information about her “dream” in the theater. Still, she said that she has been there as a girl. Her story is the same, the king had a iolite crown, the youngest daughter hoppered him into the rock to kill him. The queen heard him through the rock.

She also remembers about the stranded woman who lost her mind and her name, and she is as confused as Six about these memories.

Theory time!

Theory 1) Robots contain overlaying transcript of people. The stranded woman and the queen who was never satisfied were both recording of two people. The fact that the king had a iolite crown and was killed with hoppering could be that this was another empress?

Theory 2) Enkei had been to the theater as a girl. In my first playthrough there was no mention of hoppering or iolite crown, so my idea is that Enkei, as a girl, saw a play about a king being killed by three daughters. She took the idea of hoppering someone into a rock from that. When she deposed the king of Steel Age, she hoppered him into a rock, but because the king had the crown part of him was recorded into it (and that’s how Enkei, hearing voices by wearing the crown, decided to start her experiments). The other stranded woman could be another robot’s life recorded into the foil.

I personally prefer theory 2.

Another additional information: while Enkei doesn’t remember much, she approves of the idea that the serpent goddess was the goddess of justice and fair trade, it might make more sense than just a goddess of trade.

SERPENT’S EYE

This is the first time that the docking moon is identified as the Serpent’s Eye. 

The robots were watching the darkness, furthermore the book talks about the way to safety being in the Serpent’s Eye.

It could be that this was a dock, but the robots were also watching the draining of the rivers and the telescope were positioned here to record movement. This could be because in the age of sail the knowledge of the great darkness and the need to go back to Heaven’s Vault was still known, or at least the majority of robots knew it and were monitoring.

The people lost knowledge about this process (and the whole big ships and docking) when it was automated (theorized by Aliya and Enkei).

This docking site might have also been a big center of water rivers. The controlling station opens the hatch with the crystals, so the crystal might have been charged here, or just stored there and then changed once extinguished to keep the ships coming.

The docking place is called Serpent's Eye and Renba's lost age of sail ship in the digging site has "crystals from serpent's eye" written in the little hatch with crystals. It might be that the ship was using them to fly and the crystals were charged in the Serpent’s Eye after being mined.

THE MINE (STEEL AGE)

In the mine, everything is as dire as before. Enkei comments that the doors behind the first control stations were probably broken to keep someone in.

It’s clear that robots were operating the place, and this place continued even after Enkei was long dead. This could have been operated by robots during the Steel Age (copying mines during the age of sail to get crystals?). Robots controlled humans during the Age of Steel and it’s not clear how (some people were in robots?). We also know that robots started the religion of the loop to diminish their own sufferings (confirmed by Enkei), and this could have happened during this age.

Even if this is a site from the age of steel, we know that this continued during the empire age.

Behind a crack there is a memorial.

The grave is in empire style. Enkei knows exactly how many memorial bricks are in the mine. When Aliya asks her "you can see them from out there?", Enkei answers with "Your understanding of my vision is incorrect". 

My theory is that the miners during the steel age rebelled against the king, and that’s how Enkei started her empire. 

Later on, after Enkei was long dead, the emperors re-established the mine. 

At one point Aliya and Enkei say that the robots went away and they left the miners to die (reason why there are the words “save us” written). 

The stone god saves Aliya and the gate calls her “Enkei’s property”.

The strange thing about the buried god is that Aliya notices that the structure around was put around something inside. So maybe the statues of the gods were initially built around actual computers.

Other annotations are “The Withering Palace will Fall” and “We must not surrender hope”. From Enkei and Aliya’s thoughts: Prisoners were working in the mine, they left there to die by the robots. The prisoners wrote those things to give each others hope and for revenge. The put the “Save Us” stone, the robots ship was trapped above them (the order was to leave, but the humans needed help). This continued until the miners found the buried god who saved them and sent them to Elboreth. From there, I suppose they went to the Withering Palace and free Enkei.

The Fall and Steel Age The robots governing during the age of steel were in Elboreth. The empress caused the fall of the age of steel. Then, she also caused the fall of Iox (probably helped by miners), and she was betrayed because she trusted someone with information.

The betrayal There are two points where Enkei has probably been betrayed. First, when she was stored away instead of being awake and projecting as a goddess eternal (maybe ancient word, or simply she hadn't counted on the fact that someone could become her primary user). Second betrayal, when she led the miners and the other robots to fall Iox, probably her primary user wiped her memory and buried her under Iox.

Command words

Myari confirms that the ancient Six speaks is something deeper than Enkei, probably the core commands were on the initial foil (with the ethical core) and there are layers on the foil. It could be that the loop was invented because robots had multiple "past lives" and could remember from past lives (maybe the woman stranded that Enkei/Six remembers in the theater was Mazwai before she was recorded in a robot).

Also, asking the robot "Home" it replies "Home is Elboreth".

Still, using SLISET on Enkei has no effect IF you are not her primary user. While with Six any person can use it. This could be how Enkei was betrayed after the fall. 

[magiciaa]

Welcome to Magicia chapter 8: A Losing Battle

((I’ve been having a bit of art block recently, but at least I’m finally on the chapter I’ve been waiting to write for a while))

“Alright, Lu, we’re going to have to figure out a disguise for you” Kat shuffled through her closet “since you don’t exactly look like a magical girl”

“Is this really necessary?” Lu asked

“Yup, ah, found it, try this on” Kat took a purple and black outfit from her closet and handing it to Lu before leaving the room

Lu looked at himself in the mirror, and he immediately hated it. Although, the outfit fit him almost perfectly, except for the sleeves on the jacket being slightly too long

“Thanks, I hate it.” Lu slammed open the door

“Looks great, now let’s go, the others are waiting for us” Kat transformed and grabbed Lu by the wrist and dragged him out the door “see you losers later, we’re going to go defeat the mafia”

“Just don’t die” Cleo didn’t look up from her book “that would be inconvenient to explain to your teachers”

“Have fun” Zapp shouted out the door

Ace sprinted out the door towards the park, with Lu and King following not far behind. When they arrived, there were so many magical girls walking around that it was hard to find her friends.

“Hey! Ace! Lu! Over here!” Fern yelled, startling several nearby magical girls

“Sup, dudes, you guys ready?” Ace asked

“Ready as we’re going to be” Nightmare got up and brushed some dirt off her dress “hope this plan works”

A short, orange and yellow magical girl with white cat ears stepped onstage and adjusted the microphone before speaking in the fakest customer service voice ever “Welcome to the MG348 audition, please line up at the stairs if you think you have what it takes to join us”

The magical girls all stopped chatting amongst themselves and lined up, Lu and Nightmare nervously joining them. The rest of the group sat in the audience a couple rows behind four magical girls, a wolf dressed all in black, some kind of elf dressed in blue with a large pink bow in her hair, a bug with white hair in a long green cloak, and a cat wearing a lot of pink and rainbows.

“We just wait for the audition to be over, and then we follow them back to the base” Doc whispered, sitting down on the bleachers with the rest of the group

“You, fish, state your name and power, and give an example of your performance” Bronze commanded

A blue fish magical girl stepped onstage and spoke extremely quietly into the microphone “Aquamarine, water manipulation”

One of MG348’s songs played on the speakers, and Aquamarine perfectly mimicked Bronze’s dance from the performances

“Impressive, Next!” Bronze shouted.

Aquamarine sat down in the audience next to Doc as the audition continued “There’s something suspicious about Bronze, I just have to figure out what it is” she whispered to herself

“I happen to know what’s up with her” Doc whispered “MG348 isn’t what it seems to be, do you want to join us in taking them down?”

Aquamarine nodded and scribbled something in a notepad. It read “I’m in. I’m not the biggest fan of talking, so I hope this is fine”

Doc nodded and gave Aquamarine a thumbs up “welcome to the Idiot Squad, name not final”

Lu was next in line, he was unreasonably nervous, considering that he didn’t even want to be there. King was floating around Lu’s shoulders, causing a couple magical girls to stare

“alright, bat, your turn” Bronze commanded

Lu stepped up to the microphone “Lu, shadow manipulation” and began to sing some anime song that Ace showed him a couple days back, which was the only thing he could think to do on the spot

“Unorthodox song choice, but not terrible. Next!” Bronze announced, as Nightmare stepped onstage and Lu joined the rest of the Idiot Squad in the audience.

Nightmare stood in front of the microphone “Nightmare Wonderland, sleep arrows and stopping time” and began to sing and dance to the cutesiest j-pop song that you would never expect someone like her knowing

Bronze stood there shocked for a second before continuing “unexpected, I like it. Next!”

Nightmare sat down with the rest of the idiot squad to watch the rest of the performances. The magical girl in the green cape kept turning around to look at the Idiot Squad in between watching the performances.

The sun was beginning to set, as the last magical girl completed her performance. Bronze stepped up to the microphone to announce who was going to join the idol group. She announced a long list of names, but towards the end of the list, announced that Lu, Aquamarine and Nightmare were selected to join the idol group.

“If you have been selected, please follow me” Bronze announced, summoning a glowing wand and holding it in the air while she walked off of the stage.

A crowd of magical girls excitedly followed behind Bronze, with Lu, Nightmare and Aquamarine near the back. The Idiot Squad followed stealthily behind, mostly by hiding in bushes and on top of trees and buildings, until Bronze stopped in front of the large abandoned school building across the street from the park, and on the same street as Ace’s house.

“You’re telling me that we could’ve just busted into the old school building” Ace whisper-shouted to Doc.

“Never mind that, look” Doc replied.

Bronze went inside the building, and the crowd of magical girls followed.

“Perfect” Doc whispered to herself and ran toward the door with the Idiot Squad not far behind.

Doc kicked down the doors, sending one flying and hitting Bronze in the face mid-sentence “Bronze” she pointed dramatically

“Kitten,” Bronze grinned madly “let’s show these newbies what we’re really about, kill them”

“Aye Aye, Nya~” the cat magical girl unsheathed her claws and charged towards the Idiot Squad

“NO!” Nightmare yelled, instantly appearing in front of Kitten “You’re not hurting Sprinkles”

“Mewve out of the way before I murder you too nya~” Kitten’s voice instantly changed “ugh, I can’t stand doing that neko girl voice, it just pisses me off to no end, now scram before I slice you into little pieces”

“I don’t care if you have to kill me, but just don’t hurt Sprinkles” Nightmare declared

Kitten thrust her paw forward, impaling Nightmare in the chest, and shattering the black gem on her bow. Nightmare went limp and fell to the ground, black blood spreading onto the floor

“You BITCH” Sprinkles cried, running to Nightmare’s side as her body dissolved into gray sparkles “Lynn… she’s dead… no… she can’t be…” Sprinkles grabbed the shards of Nightmare’s transformation device off of the ground

“So what, she got in my way, and you’re next” Kitten was inspecting her paw, stained black from Nightmare’s blood

“I’m not going down that easily” Sprinkles dried her tears and summoned her axe, dashing behind Sprinkles and snapping her neck with the handle, knocking her out “she’s not dead, I just bought us some time while she regenerates”

“GUARDS!” Bronze screamed.

The tall wolf magical girl in all black came to Bronze’s side “what do you need, boss”

“Treble Wolf, kill the spider and her troublesome friends” Bronze commanded

“As you wish” Treble bowed slightly and summoned a battle axe fashioned after an electric guitar before charging forward

Ace blocked the strike with her scythe, but Treble’s axe was too strong and snapped the scythe in half, dissolving it into red sparkles

Lu wandered to the elevator at the back of the room, and went to the basement. When he arrived, the atmosphere was far different than what was upstairs, the metal walls were rusted, and there were stains of magical girl blood splattered everywhere.

“Is someone there?” a timid voice rang out among the empty room “can you help me?”

“Who’s there” Lu answered “this place is seriously creepy”

“Go to the door on the left of the main room” the voice instructed

“Alright, what do you need help with- JESUS PE- FUCK” Lu phased through the door and got a sight of a ton of magical girl corpses, with a half corrupted ghost floating above them

“Welcome to the Rainbow Room, help me get out of here, and I’ll help you” the ghost said “I’m Reaper, by the way, even though we’ve met before, I never actually introduced myself”

“Lu” Lu replied “you can get these off?”

“yup” Reaper removed the power limiters off of Lu’s wrists “there you go, sorry about that, by the way, you scared me”

Lu grabbed Reaper’s hand and pulled her back through the wall “now watch this, King! Now!”

Lu changed into a giant monster, a Soul Beast known as The Prince, and went onto all fours. “get… on…” the Soul Beast struggled to speak

Reaper got on, and held on tightly as The Prince flew through the ceiling and landed in the main room.

Ace was clutching her right eye, which was bleeding profusely as Doc fought Treble Wolf

Doc was trying to dodge Treble’s attacks, although the tank of goo on her back was almost empty, she continued shooting. Doc narrowly avoided a swing from Treble’s axe, but when she tried to attack, her guns just clicked, she was out of ammo. She switched to her melee weapons, two Wolverine-like claws on each hand, originally designed as lightning rods, but makes a good emergency weapon if needed.

Treble Wolf swung downward with her axe, and Doc raised her left arm to block it with her claws, but she overextended her arm, and Treble’s axe went straight through. Neon green blood was spilling everywhere, and Treble Wolf was completely unfazed, so she couldn’t use Sora’s trick from the night before. Suddenly, Televii jumped in to restrain Treble wolf, with his arms wrapped several times around her neck and Sora pointing a gun at her

“You’re not hurting anyone anymore” Sora threatened “these are kids. they don’t deserve to be killed by the likes of you”

“I didn’t think I’d have to do this, but firefly, get rid of them” Bronze yelled to the green caped magical girl

“No.” the magical girl grabbed Bronze by the neck with giant thorny plant arms “I don’t think I will, and the name is Sock”

“Well you’re all so annoying, I might as well get you out of my hair forever!” Bronze cackled crazily and summoned her wand “ERASE!”

“RUN!” Doc shouted “QUICKLY!”

Sock threw Bronze aside, Televii headbutted Treble Wolf and knocked her out, and the Idiot Squad plus Sock ran for the door, slamming it behind them

“Wait- we forgot PJ!” Doc remembered what they were originally there for

The Prince busted through the wall, carrying Reaper and a red chef magical girl on his back

“Doc?” the red magical girl jumped off of The Prince and tackle-hugged Doc

“PJ!” Doc hugged PJ to the best of her ability

“My lab! Now!” Sora announced, pointing in the direction of her house

The Idiot Squad ran to Sora’s lab and immediately collapsed inside.

[mneiai]

Ridiculous ASOIAF theory: D+J=E

I wrote this for r/pureasoiaf but figured I’d post it here, too lol

Months ago I had been talking to someone on the sub about how obviously anyone could be a hidden Targaryen, including Euron. Then at 4am when I couldn't get to sleep one night wrote up most of this. Again, and I cannot emphasize this enough, I wrote this at 4am.

This theory explores Prince Duncan Targaryen (the Prince of Dragonflies) and Jenny of Oldstones as the parents of Euron Greyjoy. Or D + J = E.

How:

Prince  Duncan died at the Tragedy at Summerhaul and Jenny's fate is unknown, though it is implied she died. The event at Summerhaul was meant to bring dragons back into the world and at least two Targaryens died, if not many more.

"...the king summoned many of those closest to him to Summerhaull....It is unfortunate that the tragedy that transpired at Summerhaul left very few witnesses alive, and those who survived would not speak of it." (AWOIAF)

The  woods witch, who likely was a Child of the Forest or a close descendant of them, saw Jenny as her friend, perhaps one of her only friends.

"A woods witch?" Dany was astonished. “She  came to court with Jenny of Oldstones. A stunted thing, grotesque to look upon. A dwarf, most people said, though dear to Lady Jenny, who always claimed that she was one of the children of the forest.” (ADWD)

Knowing that Summerhaul would end in the death of Prince Duncan, the woods witch used the great magical energy of the event and the sacrifice of not just people with king's blood, but a king himself, to try to save Prince Duncan for Jenny.

However, as magic is unpredictable and weaker at the time, and hers (the magic of the Children) may be at odds with the Valyrian magic that Aegon V was attempting, instead of saving Prince Duncan and Jenny, she saved a piece of both Prince Duncan and Jenny--their unborn child.

Euron  was most likely born and/or "conceived" on Pyke, a place that is so old  no one knows who originally built it (AWOIAF) and is the location of the Seastone Chair, a throne of unknown origins made out of a mysterious oily black stone. There is magic in Pyke, magic perhaps powerful enough and unused enough to be tapped into.

As the magic of Valyria and the Children mixed, it needed an outlet, somewhere where both could exist simultaneously--such as where fire and ice can be tempered by  water.

Euron Targaryen:

Age: Euron was born sometime between 256 and 268. The Tragedy at Summerhaul was in 259.

While  we don't know Jenny's age, Duncan would have been in his late 30s and since there is no mention of her being excessively old and given the very young age of marriage for girls in Westeros, Jenny was almost certainly younger than that. Which means they were both likely capable of having children.

Appearance: Euron is referred to as pale and handsome, with dark hair.

In the official artwork of Prince Duncan, he is depicted as having inherited his mother's darker hair. And Targaryens are often considered good looking (a whole string of descriptions going back to Aegon I has them ranging from handsome to otherworldly beauties) and are associated with paler skin (a typical Valyrian feature found in Targaryens and   Velaryons).

We are never told the skin tones of the other Greyjoy brothers, which implies that Euron’s skin tone in particular has  some significance. We are also shown that almost all Greyjoys except Euron have two black eyes.

Euron also notably has one blue eye and an eye covered by a patch said to be black--Shiera Seastar, a Targaryen bastard, whose name itself means “Star of the Sea,” is one of the most famous figures in Westeros to have heterochromia, or two  different colored eyes.

Tyrion Lannister, another infamous “Hidden Targaryen,” whether from A+J or from D+D, is the other.

Personality and Interests:

Many of the people who know Euron consider him strange and mad (in basically every book he's mentioned in)--Jenny of Oldstones was considered both "strange" and called "half-mad" by the locals who knew her (AWOIAF).

She  was suspected of being a witch, put a great deal of emphasis on her First Men blood, and was good friends with that prophecy-making woods witch who became the Ghost of High Heart.

Euron dabbles in magic and is especially interested in clairvoyance, as he has consumed enough shade of the evening to stain his lips blue, a feature  found in warlocks.

Aeron and Victarion think that the blood of their parents "went bad" in Euron...but what if, in truth, he had none  of their blood at all?

"In him our father’s blood went bad.” “Our mother’s blood as well.” (AFFC)

Euron has many personality traits in common with notable Targaryens. Like   many of them, including Jaehaerys I, he believes himself to be more godlike than other men. He also is obsessed with conquering Westeros, as Aegon I and his sisters were. (AFFC)

"We are the ironborn, and once we were conquerors. Our writ ran everywhere the sound of the waves was heard....I say we take it all! I say, we take Westeros." (AFFC)

The only person in history thought to have gone to post-Doom Valyria  and survived was Aerea Targaryen (F&B), obviously someone with the blood of the dragon. But Euron supposedly also made a journey to Valyria  and came out alive, in fact in much better condition than Aerea.

But Aerea had been completely unprepared for the journey--she didn't have supplies or anything for it--whereas Euron knew where he was going and was ready for it. If having the blood of Old Valyria can keep someone from being killed in Valyria, then perhaps having that blood and being prepared, and having some knowledge of magic and the like, can have someone survive and be relatively healthy after.

Associations:

Euron is also associated with crows--he's called the "Crow's Eye" (or “Euron Croweye”) because of his black eye and in a dream of the woods witch it's thought he appears as a "drowned crow with seaweed hanging from his wings."

Brynden Rivers, a Targaryen bastard also known as  Bloodraven, was a brother of the Night's Watch, who are called crows by the free folk, and is thought to be the Three Eyed Crow that appears to Bran Stark and Jojen Reed in their dreams.

Many people theorize that Euron is a warg, which is a power associated with the Children and those First Men who interbred with them (Starks, crannogmen, etc). There are also popular theories that Euron was either a former student of  Bloodraven or has been in contact with him somehow.

If Euron is a Targaryen born into such unique circumstances, Bloodraven may have  chosen to watch him and pay greater attention to him, the way it is sometimes implied he has been watching and influencing Jon Snow (through Ghost, Mormont's raven, and other methods).

Specifically, Euron seems to talk about flying in a way that is similar to Bloodraven (and may even reference Bran's accident):

“When I was a boy, I dreamt that I could fly,” he announced. “When I woke, I  couldn’t... or so the maester said. But what if he lied?” ... "Perhaps  we can fly. All of us. How will we ever know unless we leap from some tall tower? No man ever truly knows what he can do unless he dares to leap." ... Do you dare to fly? Unless you take the leap, you’ll never know.” (AFFC)

It seemed as though he had been falling for years. Fly, a voice whispered in the darkness, but Bran did not know how to fly, so all he could do   was fall. ... “I can’t fly,” Bran said. “I can’t, I can’t …” How do you know? Have you ever tried? ... “I want to learn magic,” Bran told him. “The crow promised that I would fly.” ... “Old  Nan says the children knew the songs of the trees, that they could fly like birds and swim like fish and talk to the animals,” Bran said.   (AGOT)

Euron's personal heraldry also features crows and a red eye--Bloodraven is albino with red eyes. Almost as though he's referencing--honoring? mocking?--his some-greats uncle.

Duncan is called the Prince of Dragonflies, and dragonflies are associated with galleys (ships):

Two galleys had come out to meet them. They seemed to skim upon the water like dragonflies, their pale oars flashing. (AFFC)

Which in turn have been associated back with crows and Euron’s own ship in the same book:

The ship was Blackbird, the largest of the Watch’s galleys. (AFFC)

And  then he saw her: a single-masted galley, lean and low, with a dark red hull. Her sails, now furled, were black as a starless sky. Even at anchor Silence looked both cruel and fast. (AFFC)

Future Moves

Dragons:

Euron is, quite possibly, attacking Oldtown or has hired a Faceless Man to infiltrate The Citadel in order to claim the hidden book Blood and Fire or the Death of Dragons (too many theories/threads on this to reference any one lol).

There is a lot of speculation of  what exactly can be found in this book, but if it is magic of Old  Valyria it may specifically appeal to someone of Targaryen blood--could it, perchance, answer the question as to why the dragons died out? Could  it be used by someone with blood of the dragon to learn how to bring more dragons back? Or could it contain the horrific blood magics that might have been used to create dragonriders in the first place?

Finally, there is Jaime's dream about the deep, which many people associate with what Euron may or may not be doing:

"Below the earth his doom awaited, he knew with the certainty of dream;   something dark and terrible lurked there, something that wanted him. Beware the water, he told himself. There may be creatures living in it, hidden deeps..." "

“Tell me, Jaime. What lives here? What lives in the darkness?”

“Doom.” No bear, he knew. No lion. “Only doom.”" (TWOW)

Doom...as in the Doom of Valyria? Which could have very likely been brought on by the Valyrians themselves? If Euron is planning some large event, a Doom-level catastrophe could be it.

Or perhaps he seeks a type of dragon that even his Valyrian ancestors had not tamed, to kill krakens and torment islands, and show that even kings and gods need fear him, using the knowledge of the magic of the Iron Islands and Sunset Sea and his dragonlord blood.

Nagga had been the first sea dragon, the mightiest ever to rise from the waves. She fed on krakens and leviathans and drowned whole islands in her wrath, yet the Grey King had slain her and the Drowned God had changed her bones to stone so that men might never cease to wonder at the courage of the first of kings. Nagga’s ribs became the beams and pillars of his longhall, just as her jaws became his throne. For a thousand years and seven he reigned here, Aeron recalled. Here he took his mermaid wife and planned his wars against the Storm God. From here he ruled both stone and salt, wearing robes of woven seaweed and a tall pale crown made from Nagga’s teeth. (AFFC)

Daenerys:

Like Targaryens of the past, Euron is interested in marrying his possible-relative, Daenerys. And, contextually, they have a few things in common.

Notably, Daenerys has many dreams of flying and madness, as well.

Once  I dreamed of flying, she thought, and now I’ve flown, and dream of stealing eggs. That made her laugh. “Men are mad and gods are madder,”   she told the grass, and the grass murmured its agreement. (ADWD)

Flying, she thought. I had wings, I was flying. But it was only a dream. (AGOT)

They are both also associated with storms in the text. Daenerys is "Stormborn" and Euron is called a storm:

Aeron thought, and now the storm is coming, a storm such as these isles have never known. ... Aeron tugged his beard, and thought. I have seen the storm, and its name is Euron Crow’s Eye. (AFFC)

And as shown in the Nagga quote above, the Grey King, the early ruler of the Iron Islands and worshiper of the Drowned God, had his greatest enemy in the Storm God.

In ADWD, when Daenerys is alone, she twice specifically mentions the presence of dragonflies, the symbol of Euron’s father. Including in a possible hallucination/vision:

...all she saw was  trickling brown water … and the grass, still moving slightly. The wind, she told herself, the wind shakes the stalks and makes them sway. Only no wind was blowing. The sun was overhead, the world still and hot.  Midges swarmed in the air, and a dragonfly floated over the stream,  darting here and there. And the grass was moving when it had no cause to  move.

Euron and Daenerys are also both indirectly (or more directly, depending on one's perspective) responsible for the deaths of their older brother.

Daenerys, of course, is threatened by Viserys and then as Drogo has him killed, she watches, "curiously calm" (AGOT).

Euron  appears on the Iron Islands, despite his banishment, the very day after Balon's death. It is very likely he had a Faceless Man kill him.

"Was the storm raging when he fell?” Aeron demanded of them. “Aye,” the youth said, “it was.” “The  Storm God cast him down,” the priest announced. For a thousand thousand  years sea and sky had been at war. From the sea had come the ironborn,  and the fish that sustained them even in the depths of winter, but  storms brought only woe and grief. (AFFC)

This quote also shows a dichotomy between the sea and sky: The Iron Born are the sea, but the sky (and storms) are...something else. Euron is not of  the sea, he is of the sky. He is not a Greyjoy, he is a Targaryen.

TLDR; Since anyone can be a secret Targaryen, I posit that Euron Greyjoy, who has contextual connections to the magic of the Children and an obvious interest in Valyria, is in fact the son of Prince Duncan and Jenny of Oldstones and give a bunch of ridiculous reasons why.

[youngster-monster]

ask to be unbroken - a cayde fix-it fic

You can’t summon a ghost. A ghost has to come unbidden, uncalled for, undesired; if you want it, it can’t haunt you.

– @nathanielorion, Foxhole

In the wake of Cayde-6's funerals, Razel disappears.

His ship isn't docked, his course isn't registered, his com is offline. Nobody saw him leave.

They expect him to have gone after Uldren already, pursuing his claim on the traitor-prince’s life.

In truth, he sleeps. His ship drifts aimlessly through space, it's only destination the distant darkness at the edge of the system, the silence a heavy comfort to his mind.

His dreams echo with words whispered in the dark, a shot ringing through the quiet, a lightning-bright shockwave of light rushing through him.

He wakes up soaked in sweat, shivering and feverish, gasping a name without quite realising it. Clutching in his desperate hands the broken pieces of a Ghost, remnants of immortality pressed against the skin of his palm until it bleeds.

「Guardian?」

Cubix's curious voice drifts through the silence, too well-known, too much like his own to cut through the haze.

("Guardian?" Another voice, familiar and painful, the sting of a fresh wound. It clings to his mind like cobwebs, impossible to shake even if he wished to do so.)

Eventually, in bouts of troubled sleep, he gets used to it. The disorientation, the choking fear. Regret settles between his bones and becomes a distant ache, ever present and almost comforting for it.

He keeps dreaming of Cayde.

A lot.

In his sleep, the same scene plays on a loop. His limbs are leaden, his throat dry. He’s never fast enough to block the bullet.

When he's awake, or a semblance of it, he sees him like an image left in his sight after staring at the sun. A different kind of ghost in the corner of his eyes as he stares into space. He doesn't turn his head, afraid there will be nothing there when he does.

Razel wants to be haunted so, so much. He wants to reach out and touch, feel the static-y emptiness under his fingertips, taste the bitter longing at the back of his throat.

He doesn't move. Cayde's ghost – not the proper one, the other, the infection of his soul – sits back-to-back with him, not quite touching but close. He smells like ozone and copper. More like the blood on Razel's tongue than himself at all.

It's a comfort nonetheless.

-

(He dreams of Cayde, or maybe he dreams as Cayde, through Cayde. The line between grief and madness is blurred and he can't, or won't, try to decipher on which side of it he stands.

In his dream there is a game. Allcohol in the air and cards in his hands. Information bet and traded like coins.

"All in," his opponent says. She's confident, but he's a better cheater. Her eyes flash with anger when he shows her his winning hand. What can she do when she saw no fool play?

Nothing. And a due is a due.

She tells him of a place far, far away, far enough that whatever name it used to bear is long lost to time. There's something, there. Or someone. A wish-granter for a price.

It's the kind of place you go to to bargain for the impossible. He doesn't forget.)

-

Cubix has been running diagnostics nonstop for days, dead sure there's something wrong but unable to find it.

(You can't diagnoses a haunting.)

「There's something wrong with you」 he tells Razel, 「Beyond the obvious. Like... A black hole in you, eating up all your light.」

He shrugs. He'd probably know if it was really bad. Or at least he'd notice when he'd start to explode or something.

「Do you think it's Uldren's fault, somehow? We can't fight him like this. We should talk about it to Ikora, she would know what-」

"Hey," he says. Cubix falls silent. It's the first time he's spoken since claiming Uldren as his to hunt.

(He's avenging a Hunter. The terms feels… Borrowed, but appropriate.)

"Do you trust me?"

Wisely, Cubix replies, 「Depends. What do you have in mind?」

He stares through the cockpit window. Coordinates swim in front of his eyes, gone in a blink, tasting of copper and static.

"A place," he says. “I think?”

「Sounds like a terrible idea. Let's go.」

-

(People are often under the impression that Cubix is the responsible one of the two.

He's the smart one. There’s a difference.

If he had a fraction of the wisdom others attribute him, he wouldn't follow Razel in half as many of his harebrained scheme as he does.)

-

Somewhere in the depth of space–

(Actually not that far from the Shattered Coast, all things considered)

–there is an old, old tower, so overgrown by the local vegetation it is all but swallowed by it. Thick vines have grown through the entrance, keeping the doors permanently ajar.

「That's... Ancient. From before the collapse. Maybe even before the Dark Age.」

Razel looks up – it's so high it hurts his neck to look at the top. Should he knock? Would anyone hear it from that far up?

Something warm squirms in his chest. It chases the uncertainty away. He throws his shoulders back and, with the kind of foolhardy courage only the truly powerful or truly stupid have, slip through the crack of the doors.

He isn't struck dead on his feet as soon as he does so he considers it a win.

"Told you so," he says.

「You very much did not.」

But he feels like it wasn't meant for Cubix as much as it was meant for himself.

-

They're prepared for the long, gruelling ascension to the top of the spire when a transmat pad lights up next to the stairs. It was hidden under vines and branches – the inside of the tower just as overgrown as the outside – but the light is unmistakable.

The surrounding bushes bloom with bright white flowers under their eyes. They flutter as if caught in a breeze, in time with the hum of the machine.

Razeldoesn't have enough survival instinct to pass on a shortcut to the hour of stairs he was about to go through.

「Are you sure-」

He's already stepped on it, careful to avoid squashing the fragile flowers.

The ground floor is drowned by white light. When it fades, they stand in a corridor – one far larger than the size tower should allow. It's... Vast. Downright cavernous, even, with a high vaulted ceiling and walls of pure white stone, barely seen under the vegetation climbing over every available surface.

Curtains of ivy cover the windows. He didn't notice from down on the ground, but they are made of tinted glass: the room is cast in a colorful kind of gloom, something he neither expected nor thought possible.

The foliage grow thicker as they walk down the corridor, until it becomes a struggle to go through. Still a part of Razel tells him it's better if he doesn't disturb the vegetation. The thorns on some of those vines are an even better reason to be careful.

He can heal from anything. Doesn't mean he wants to impale himself on space rose bushes.

-

It takes forever and no time at all to attain the end of the corridor. He blinks and they’re here, hours or maybe seconds later. It’s hard to keep up with time when you’re immortal. Harder still when you’re dead, or dying, or have died, or are in the process of dying, he’s never sure which.

Lately he’s been stuck somewhere between the two, half dead half breathing. Cold inside and still warm in surface, like... food that wasn’t properly microwaved. Or some other, more poetic metaphor.

The corridor opens on a room so utterly invaded by plants it appears to be a third of its original size.

In its center sits a throne. Upon the throne sits a woman.

His first thought is that she is very beautiful. The light streaming through the stained glass windows paint her dark skin otherworldly colors, and in the gloom her eyes appear entirely black. She looks regal; for the briefest moment he thinks he understands how some could believe in the divine right of kings, back in the days.

Instinct tells him to kneel.

He wouldn't stand here if he was the kind of guardian who listens to his survival instinct, though. He meets the woman's eyes head-on. She smiles at the audacity. Somehow the sight feels him with dread rather than relief.

"A visitor? What a pleasant surprise."

She beckons him closer. He stops mere feet away from her, dead leaves cracking under his boots. He fights to keep his face neutral–

(Relax your shoulders, they betray you)

–but something tells him he's not fooling anyone. He keeps his hands behind his back to stop them from fidgeting.

"What is your name, child?"

"Razel. Ma'am."

"And what is it that you've come so far to ask for, Razel?" Her voice is quiet, soothing and smothering in turn like the dirt of the grave.

He fumbles for words for a moment. He didn't expect the question, although he obviously should have. But he's not even sure what he's here for, exactly.

In hindsight, he should have prepared a speech.

"Those who wander here never do so aimlessly. Tell me, guardian, what wishes lay in your heart?"

"Well- You see-" He blinks. "Wait. How did you know I'm a guardian?" It's not like she'd seen his Ghost, after all.

It occurs to him ominous entities addressing him as ‘guardian’ rarely bear his best interest in mind. But maybe this once, just this once, she does! You never know.

Unexpectedly she chuckles, and it's nothing like her previous smile. It's… warm. Quiet, but genuine. The whole room seems to lighten with it. The rare rays of sunlight brighten; the plants around them shiver and unfurl in her direction. He’s pretty proud of himself for eliciting it.

Even more unexpected, she answers him. "I have met your kind before. Visitors are few and far in between out here, so they tend to stick in mind." She sighs, in a kind of nostalgic way. "And he was... Memorable. You feel like him, a little. Not just your Light, but your soul is- somewhat familiar."

"Another guardian came here?" He's not surprised. Well, he is, but in the way you are when someone tells you a fact you used to know and forgot. A "ha, right, that thing" kind of surprise. Guess nothing can truly surprise you when you've lived the kind of life he has.

"Not so long ago, either. Although to me, nothing ever happened quite that long ago." Makes sense. Can't be easy to keep up with the date when you live in a plant-tower in the dead-end of Nowhere, Space. "His name was Cayde-3."

Cayde— He blurts out a question before he can think it twice. “Are you sure?”

She levels him with a stern glare. “I never forget, child. Neither a name nor a soul ever eludes me.”

That’s ominous. He doesn’t linger on it.

He blinks furiously as the pieces fall together, making the puzzle- well, no clearer than before. But now he has a headache, so that’s different. He thinks a part of him — the part that dreams up card games and coordinates — already knew, somehow.

「Cayde came here?」 Cubix asks as he reveals himself. He stays close to Razel, just in case. 「And some time ago, at that, if he was still at three.」

"What did he come for?"

"Lost memories he wished to recover. He found the price too high go pay and left empty-handed... although I suppose coordinates to my home could be considered a treasure of sort." She makes an annoyed sound, still managing to make it seem dignified. "You know of him then. He gave me his words not to divulge it to anyone. I thought him wise enough to keep it."

Cayde, wise? Never. Still, he won’t let her doubt Cayde’s promise, not when he put so much of himself in holding them.

"He- He didn't-" Razel chokes on his words. His gut twists, a painful knot of grief and anger.

Cubix takes pity of him.

「He didn't send us here. Cayde's... Cayde's dead. That's why we're here. Is that right?」

He turns to Razel, who nods his head jerkily. That sounds right, yeah.

The dark, dark eyes of the lady briefly dim, losing their jewel-like shine as she takes in the news. "Ah. I suppose it wasn't of natural cause, if you are here."

「He was murdered. By Prince Uldren, if you know of him.」

"And you seek vengeance?"

"I dream about him," he blurts out.

Cubix stops just as he was about to launch himself in an explanation. The Lady (she deserves the capital letter) tilts her head to the side like a curious bird but doesn't say a thing.

"I dream of him- even when I'm awake. And I don't- I don't-" A frustrated noise rips out of his throat and he tugs at a loose strand of hair. "They tell me I should move on. But I don't know how to... I don't even know if I want to? I just want him back. But he's gone and I keep seeing him and, and being him, when I sleep, and I just..."

She mercifully stops him in his tracks with a raised hand.

"He may not be as gone as you believe him to be."

That doesn't sound very possible, seeing as Cayde–

(Died in his arms)

– is very much dead and, more importantly, buried, or at least in a casket.

「What do you mean by that?」

She rises. He fears, a second, that by doubting her words they have angered her, and something tells him her anger is not the kind you walk away from. But she only steps to his frozen form and lays a hand on his chest. He can't feel her touch through his body armor but he thinks it would be cold, despite the almost stifling warmth of the room.

"Guardians are the sum of their parts," she begins. Razel settles in for the long haul – people just can't resist lecturing him about stuff. "Three of them, to be precise. Light, body and soul. Once you are raised as guardians by your Traveler, they all become pieces of a great machine – dependant of the others to function."

"I don't see the connect-"

She looks at him, deadly quiet, until his jaw snaps shut.

"Your soul needs your body to anchor it to this world. Your body needs your soul to live. Both need light to stay together even through death – like two pieces of cloth sewn together." She gestures to Cubix with her free hand. "Your Ghost channels light from the Traveler to you and weave it around your soul, tying it to your body to bring you back to life, again and again."

Hey, he didn't know that. Cubix never told him how it worked.

... He probably thought it would be too complicated for Razel. He's not entirely wrong: he feels like this explanation is greatly simplified.

"The more you do it, the easier it is, isn't it?" Cubix makes an affirmative sound but she's already continuing. "That's because your soul learns to follow the light, because it knows its body is on the other end of it. It... Remembers the path, in a way."

「Oh, I think I see where this is going,」 Cubix whispers.

"Good for you," Razel, who doesn't see shit, replies in kind.

The Lady smiles, softer than before, with an emotion Razel can't even begin to decipher in her deep, dark eyes. "That's right. A guardian soul follow the light... Any light. Like a moth." Glamour. "And sometimes... Well. It follows the wrong one, and it ends up where it has no business to be."

「You can’t possibly mean-」

"Did he die near you?"

Razel has no idea where this is going and he's... Unsure whether he wants to know. "In... In my arms, yeah."

"And his Ghost was dead, severing his connection to the Traveler's light." She sure knows a lot about the inner workings of guardians, Razel thinks idly. "Then his soul, used to the process as it was, simply followed the most familiar path. It followed the light... your light."

He blinks, confused. "Right. And that means..."

「That means Cayde's soul is inside of you,」 Cubix says, stuck somewhere between horror and wonder. 「You're… quite literally possessed.」

(Personally, he thinks it's more of a roommate kind of situation. But what does he know of possession, right.)

"The two of you must have been very close, for your two lights to be so similar." She has a weird glint in her eyes, like she knows something he doesn't. No surprise there. She probably knows a lot of things he can never hope to comprehend. “Did you love him?”

"Yes. I guess? I don’t know. He was-" He wants to turn his head – his eyes are burning, he doesn't want to cry in front of her – but she won't break eye contact and he can't, for the life of him, do it first. He swallows past the lump in his throat and manages to choke out a few words. "My best friend. My partner. I don't know."

"Then maybe you can do it.”

「Do... what?」

The Lady draws back, gesturing animatedly with her two hands. "Resurrecting him, of course." The two of them are too shocked to make a noise. She quirks an eyebrow. "What did you think you'd find here? Grief counseling?"

"I- kinda, yeah?"

「His Ghost is dead. It's impossible.」

Her entire demeanor shifts, from intense to... Mostly smug, almost mocking. "I'm a miracle worker. And you have his soul already. That's the hardest part."

Cubix is about to retort when Razel pushes him away, effectively shutting him up. "Can you do it?"

"That depends." She opens her arms as if to embrace him. Her smile takes a knife edge, her eyes so black he could fall through them. "How high a price are you ready to pay?"

"As high at it takes."

She leans forward and so does he, almost unconsciously following her lead. He ignores Cubix's objections. When she talks next, it's in a whisper, meant for his ears only.

"What is his life worth to you?"

The answer leaves him in a breath. "Everything."

Her fingers cradle his jaw, keeping him in place. "What will you give for it?"

"Anything. Whatever you want. Whatever you need, if it's mine to give."

She pauses, tilts her head. "Only that?"

"I can't- if you ask for Ikora's blood, I can't really bleed her to death myself. It's her choice to make."

"So you have limits, then." Another sad smile, but a mockery of one. A mockery of him. "Pity."

Her fingers linger a second against his skin before she starts moving away. Panic seizes him. She's his only hope–

(Cubix's protests, of course, go unheard.)

"Wait!" He reaches for her hand and stops a hair's breadth away from touching her. "Wait, I- please. Please, tell me the price. I will pay. Whatever it is, I will pay."

"What a good friend you are," she says, sounding as if she doesn’t think a word of it. "Lucky for you, I'm weak for a good love story." And at his confused stare, she adds, almost as an afterthought, "There are many kinds of love, young guardian, and you do not travel to the edge of the world to save the soul of a man you do not love."

Yeah, that's fair. Cayde was – is? – the best friend there is. He deserves that much.

"So, what do I need to do?" He asks urgently.

Cubix shakes Razel's hold on him and asks, wary, 「How do we know we can trust you?」

"You don't. Have faith." To Razel she says, "You need to find light from your Traveler."

"I already-"

"A guardian's worth of it."

Cubix makes a dejected sound.

He thinks about it for a moment. If he understood correctly...

"I have to... Get a guardian's light? That would kill them, though." He understood that much from her improvised lesson earlier. And from past experiences with the Hive.

"Precisely. A life for a life, child. And a guardian's life for a guardian's life."

What was the point of asking his name if she's not going to use it, he wonders.

Then, her words hit him. He shudders.

Killing a fellow guardian – not like in the Crucible but truly, utterly killing them – is proscribed. Taboo, almost. Even the most evil of guardians, and there were a few, are captured alive and kept under cryostasis. Killing a Ghost, severing a guardian's connection to light... It goes against the Traveler's will. It's treason of the highest order.

"I can't-" He stops. For Cayde... Could he?

To his great surprise it's Cubix who asks, 「What else?」

She gives them an almost approving look. "Not much, do not worry. I can make it so the light rushing out of a guardian at their death would go to this dead Ghost you carry. It would... Jumpstart it, like a defibrillator, and then you would just have to bring it back to its guardian to resurrect him."

「That's almost too easy.」

Razel is tempted to agree. Aside from killing a guardian, which can be done if he forgets about his morals for a little while, it's... Nothing out of the usual for them.

She clicks her tongue. "There are... constraints, naturally."

「So, what's the catch?」

She grins like a satisfied cat as she sits back in her throne. She crosses her legs gracefully, takes her time with her reply.

"If you die, it's over. His soul's hold on yours is tenuous. If yours were to leave your body... If it were separated from your light, however briefly, then his would undoubtedly let go. Your Ghost could bring you back, but him? He would be lost for good." She moves her finger in a circle. "Light needs soul, soul needs Ghost, Ghost needs light – its own light, which it can only find the through a connection to a guardian. It's all connected, see?"

Razel is not exactly known for being careful with his own life, but– he's a decent fighter. Killing another guardian – a trained, powerful, likely rogue guardian – without dying at any point would be difficult, but feasible.

"And you must be fast. Every hour his soul spends in your body makes it a little less his, a little more yours, as your light assimilate it." He can just feel his eyes glaze over a little. She frowns slightly. "Your soul and body are two pieces of cloth sewn together, making one... Shirt. Right?" He deeply appreciates her efforts to dumb this down for him. He nods. "Right now, his soul is just another piece of your shirt."

"But- doesn't my light... ‘sew’ those pieces together only when it heals me?"

How did this go from a bargain of souls to a lesson in immortality? By the Traveler but this much exposition only happens to him, he's sure.

「Your light is always healing you, though.」

"I don't get hurt that much-"

「You really do, but that's not the point. Why do you think guardians don’t age?」

He shrugs. "Convenience?"

「Not... Ah. I meant 'how'.」 Razel gestures at him to go on. Obviously he doesn't know 'how', no one ever told him and it's not like he reads about it. 「Your cells decay as you age. Your light are constantly healing them, so you don't age. Simple.」

"And that constant healing... Is sewing Cayde's soul to mine?"

"Yes. Slowly, mind you, but healing large wounds, the kind you sustain in combat, would greatly accelerate the process." She steeples her fingers together. "And I'm sure I don't have to tell you what happens once the two souls are... Sewn together to one body."

「Yeah you do.」

"It sounds very ominous but also very vague." Although he can imagine some possibilities. Among those: Cayde's head growing out of his shoulder. He's not ready to become a two-headed monster. Even for Cayde.

"I don't know what would happen, actually. Necromancy is less of a science than a delicate art. But if I had to guess..." She claps her hands together. "Two souls distinct becoming one. The sum of two parts, different from both. A new person. I'm sure you're already starting to think or do things like him, aren't you?"

He thinks about it for a second but apart from more intrusive thoughts than usual... No, he's acting like himself.

「They're both morons, it's hard to tell.」

She waves it away. "It won't take long before it starts to show, don't worry. Or do, actually, this is very serious matter. You don't have that much time before the two souls become inseparable and this endless discussion is not helping the matter. So," She starts to count on her fingers. "The life of a guardian, be quick, don't die, don't heal yourself... I think that's about it. Are you up for it, child?"

For the first time since entering this tower, Razel doubts... and looks at Cubix. His Ghost appears disgruntled by the whole situation. But he seems reluctant to say anything and when he finally does, it sounds half-hearted.

「It's dangerous.」

"It's dangerous whether I'm doing it or not. Might as well try... try to save Cayde."

「You're right.」

Oh gloriously rare words to hear. He smiles to his Ghost and pets his shell clumsily. It feels like his heart is lodged in his throat. But he manages to speak, his flaming eyes more red than orange with the low light and something untold burning in them.

"I'll do it. I'll bargain with you."

(Read the rest on AO3! link on my blog, in case tumblr didn’t fix that whole... ‘outside links don’t appear in search’ issue)