#i think she is into children as she is 18 and i am 13 but lets ignore that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

viaoverthemoon · 1 year

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Behind Closed Doors

Thank y'all for all the votes!

Let me know if you all would like more, in which I can possibly post it in parts on here!

Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader (Medieval Universe)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: Your family's kingdom is under attack and Leon's family offers protection. Everyone thinks this is your first time seeing Leon ever since your betrothal. If only they knew...

Tw: MEDIEVAL TIMELINE AND SPEECH, some characters not from the RE-verse/they will be in later parts if y'all want it, mention of battle and injury (not detailed), fluff, SMUT, but it's kinda soft, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virginity loss, minor description of pain, fingering, orgasm denial(?), sorry the smut is long as hell, BUT ITS WORTH IT PROMISE, Sudden ending

18+!! NSFW!! MDNI!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!

Enjoy! <3

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The nature of the Kingdom of Duevaula is certainly not what you were expecting it to be.

People spoke of the lands as though it were surrounded by fires, commoners walking around subdued by chains are constantly guarded by cruel soldiers.

Instead, healthy trees grow far and wide around the kingdom, children running in the streets laughing as older kids chase them with no malice. Soldiers patrol the area, but most of them look carefree, conversating with locals and playing with the children.

"Sister? Are you alright?"

The voice of your sister pulls you from your thoughts, eyes drifting to the 12-year-old at your side as she places a hand on yours. "Yes, Nara Vella. I'm fine."

Of course, she sees right through you. "Are you certain? I know the events that took place at home may have been-"

"Nara... That is enough. Thank you for asking, but I am fine."

Nara Vella scrunches her nose, about to say more but the carriage comes to a stop and a trumpet blares.

"We're here."

You listen as The Herald announces your parents, the king and queen of The Kingdom of Islandia, but your heart can't stop pounding.

You and your sister rise just before your carriage door opens. Since you are the first born, your name is announced first.

"Announcing the firstborn Princess of The Kingdom of Islandia, (Y/N) (L/N)."

You stop out of the carriage accepting the footman's outstretched hand. All eyes are on you as your navy-blue skirts brush against the concrete, but your eyes are on one person alone.

Your sister is announced behind you, and you step forward to the man infront of you.

You drop into a curtsy. "Your highness."

He bows deeply. "My lady."

Your eyes meet his, the light of a secret hidden in your gazes. He offers an arm, and you accept it, walking with him behind both of your parents.

Prince Leon.

You were betrothed to him at the age of 6, back when your kingdoms were butting heads, resulting in a feud, and needed a way to end the hostility between them. 13 years later, everyone thinks this is the first time you've seen each other since. But it isn't.

Leon had first sent you a private letter when you were 13 years old, requesting your presence at a hidden lake that rested in the middle of your parents' territories. Your heart had raced, excited for a new adventure in life, and you immediately rushed to meet him there.

You've been seeing each other there for years, playing in the waters, having picnics in the soft grass, feeding each other strawberries and chocolates, and reading in silence. Just enjoying each other's presence.

You shared tiny kisses at the lake a few times, but never went any farther in fear of what could happen if anyone found out you'd lost your purity.

You smile at him and lower your voice. "It's been too long since I last saw you, your highness."

He hums, placing his hand on top of yours. You both know it's only been 2 weeks, but who's counting? "Yes, my lady. Far too long. I was beginning to forget the feeling of your soft lips against mine..." He lowered his head, brushing his lips against your ear. "Perhaps, when we are alone, you could remind me?"

☆

Hours later, you and your family sit in the dining room with the Kennedys. All parents, along with Leon, had been locked away in the war room for hours, discussing ways to save the Kingdom of Islandia after it was attacked by another kingdom that sought revenge against your father, the king.

You'd all barely escaped with your lives, most being unscathed, but you, your mother, and your personal guard Jill, hadn't recovered from a couple injuries. Your sister brings up this fact during dinner.

"If it wasn't for (Y/N), I would've been walking around with one leg instead of two!" She dramatically waves her hands around as you try to shush her, your cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

"Nara Vella! Mind yourself! We do not speak of those events at the dinner table!"

She merely giggles, whispering an apology before returning to her plate. You sigh, about to turn back to your own food, but you feel a pair of eyes on you.

You glance at Leon from across the table through your peripheral, noticing his frown.

'Are you alright?' He mouths. You smile reassuringly and nod, raising a brow and offering a teasing smile.

'Worried about me, your highness?'

He only rolls his eyes, seemingly looking at his plate but peeking up at you through his lashes. 'Always, my lady.'

☆

You sit in your chambers after dinner, trying to sew a tear in the dress you'd worn on that fateful night.

It had been washed and dried, but it suffered damage from sword and arrow grazes. And you couldn't just let it be ruined. It's one of your favorites, a gift from your mother when you finally came of age.

It held far too many memories.

A soft knock comes from your door and, suspecting it was your sister, you call to it. "Enter."

You become frustrated with the sew, accidentally pricking your finger with the needle. You curse, yanking your hand away and to your mouth.

Admittingly, the stitch is not the only thing that has you frustrated.

After the feast, you'd tried to get Leon's attention so the two of you could find a moment alone. But he was instantly pulled away by his father, who began to speak of kingly duties and war experience.

You knew that talk would take a while.

"Nara Vella, I am truly not in the mood right now. This damn stitch is going to be the death of-"

"Is this how you speak when I am not around?"

You yelp, spinning around and dropping your materials.

Leon, your betrothed, leans against your chamber doors.

He smirks at you, approaching you at a slow pace.

"How did you- I thought your father would have you occupied for a while..." You stand, wringing your hands and shifting nervously, trying not to pay any mind to his predatory gaze. He offers a teasing smirk.

"I have my ways," He steps into your space, his chest nearly touching yours, and lifts a hand. You immediately relax, nuzzling your cheek into the palm of his hand.

He hums and you sigh, relishing in the presence of one another. "You're certain? That you are not hurt?"

You sigh, placing your hand on top of his. "Yes, Leon. I really am fine."

You feel him let out an exhale, his shoulders dropping in relief. "Good. Because if anyone left lasting damage on you, I'd take the throne right now and declare-"

You smack his chest, glaring up at him. "Leon! You will not declare war on a kingdom any time soon!"

He only throws his head back and laughs, caressing your cheek with his thumb. "Alright! Relax, my lady. I only jest..." You huff a breath through your nose, staring at his deep blue eyes and wide smile.

These were the moments you truly missed.

While the both of you tried to keep visitations strictly scheduled for once a month, it was pure torture to be away from him that long.

You inhale his air, a deep, husky scent of forest mixed with wildfire.

"I have prayed and waited every night to be in your arms again. I had never known this would be the reason why..." Your other hand grasps his shirt, holding onto him so tightly one would think he might disappear.

"Dreadful circumstance or not, I finally get to see your face again..." Leon raises your chin, your eyes shifting between his eyes and his lips. "And you, finally get to remind me of your taste..."

You could swear sparks fly when your lips meet.

Hot, searing passion colliding to create a love that is hidden behind closed doors. His fingers comb through your hair, your fingernails scratch against his loose sleeve shirt.

His tongue brushes against your lips and your heart leaps, your lips instinctively opening. A gasp comes from those parted lips. Your back arches and Leon chases you, hand lowering to grip the silk material of your robes.

He parts from you all too soon, dipping his head and placing wet kisses along your neck. A moan escapes your lips and the both of you freeze, a pause filled with red hot tension.

Your nails dig into his shoulder, breaths coming out in short, quick gaps. "Perhaps-... Perhaps we should stop..."

"We should..."

And yet, no one moves.

You swallow, throat feeling tight. "If my mother-... If our families ever found out about this-"

His head leaves the crook of your neck, eyes gazing down at you with powerful determination. "They won't."

Your breathing shakes. "But- When that time comes-"

His hands grab your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him. "They. Won't." His thumb strokes your bottom lip, blue eyes burning. "Do you trust me?"

Your answer is immediate. "Of course."

His lips twitch. "Good. Then know, that they will never know. And we will never be separated."

His confidence brings forth your own.

You know this decision is a big one. A lady handing a man her virtue is something that with bind her to him forever.

And while you hate the hold that purity has on the ways of society... You know Leon is the only man you would ever give yourself to.

Your eyes widen, a desperate gleam shining in them. "Take me, Leon."

☆

Your naked body shines in the moonlight, every curve and crevice on display for him, and him alone.

Leon stands at the foot of your bed, staring down at you with hazy, lust filled eyes.

You'd both stripped each other of their clothes in record time, a cluster of rushing hands and pitiful whines. You try not to stare at his... rather intimidating manhood, that stands tall and hard as rock. Albeit, he stares at you without shame.

His eyes rake over every inch over your body, starting at your ankles. Then moving to your legs, then your hips, your stomach, breasts, lips and finally your eyes. His bright blue oceans of eyes had turned into a deep dark sea, leaving you panting and burning.

You open your arms, reaching for him. "Well? Do not stand there and stare..." You somehow keep your voice steady, the whimper in your throat begging to be released.

He smirks, jerking himself a few times, before placing his hands on the bed and crawling toward you.

You hesitate, and then spread your legs. He settles between them, hot palms landing on your thighs and causing the skin to be set ablaze.

Your heart pounds in your ears, breathing turning heavy and legs shaking.

You're afraid. Excited! But afraid.

Many of the older ladies had said that their firsts were blissful, yet excruciatingly painful. But others said it was not as bad as it seems.

This left you with uncertainty, gooseflesh rising on your arms as you try your best to keep your emotions at bay.

But of course, Leon reads you like an open book.

He caresses the soft skin of your thighs, thumbs moving in small, calming circles. "You have nothing to fear, (Y/N)." He leans down, running his nose over your cheek. "Of course, I would never do anything to hurt you. It is never too late to stop-"

He barely gets the words out before your hands harshly grip his biceps. "No! I mean- um... I want this, Leon. More than anything." Your grip relaxes and you offer a reassuring smile.

He smiles back at you.

The heavy atmosphere returns when he leans down again, lips skimming your throat as his length nudges your sensitive ball of nerves.

You nearly jump out of your skin; a sharp gasp leaves you.

Leon feels your nervousness, and, luckily, knows just the cure.

A hand creeps down your body, getting lower... lower...

Until rough, calloused fingers slip between your folds.

A loud moan is quickly cut off by his lips.

Hopefully your guards aren't paying too close attention to your chambers...

Your knees bend, eyes clenching shut as Leon swallows all of your noises. His fingers work slow circles of pleasure into your clit, the sensation one you've never felt before.

Much like getting too close to a hot fire in the blazing cold of a harsh winter, it warms your insides and leaves your outside wanting more.

You throw your head back, the back of your fist flying to your mouth as you try to hold back the sounds your throat nearly let's burst out.

"Hah... Leon-..."

His name rolls from your tongue as a soft whisper, words stuttering off into a sharp inhale as his fingers graze over your soaking hole.

Your other hand grips the soft sheets, body giving in as he completely takes control. Your eyes lock with his.

He's deep in concentration, breathing shallow and sweat matting his blonde hair to his forehead.

Gaze lowering, you see the angry red color of his girth. It throbs, begging for attention while trying its hardest to sit still and look pretty.

"Nuh-uh. Eyes up here, princess." Your glossy eyes snap back to his, mouth slightly agape and brows pulled together. Leon smirks, pleased with your expression. "You can make that up to me later. But this moment, is for you."

His other hand gently removes your hand from your lips, soft sighs coated in ecstasy falling from them immediately.

The pressure builds as you roll your hips to meet his fingers. He slowly slides a finger into you, watching your expression as it shifts. He keeps another finger working on your nerves, so the one inside only adds to the pleasure.

You cry out when he adds a second one, now feeling a slight sense of discomfort, but still pleasure. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, mumbling praises. You're surprised by the sound of his voice, slurring slightly as if he'd indulged in a tin of ale.

"Good job, princess... Doing such a good- hngh~... Does that- feel good, my lady?"

Your body seems to like the sound of Leon, if the new wave of slick was anything to go by.

You feel the knot in your lower stomach tighten, your moans raising in volume as your back arches. You feel something coming. Not sure what it is, but your legs begin to shake. You wait in anticipation, every thought focused on the new stage of euphoria this feeling was going to bring... until Leon completely pulled away his hand.

You gasp, eyes snapping open. Your body falls limp as you catch your breath. "Wha-... Why-"

"I hope you do not mind if I become a little selfish, my lady..."

Your eyes snap to him, sitting up on your elbows and ready to reprimand him for denying you of your bliss, but your words are blown away.

Leon sits up on his knees, manhood curved upward in his hand as he strokes the length. Wet, sticky liquid leaks from the red tip, veins protruding from every angle.

Your air is taken away, leaving only enough to let out a sharp exhale.

"But... I want you coming undone only on my cock."

You eye him, switching between his eyes and his... cock, before nodding slowly. "Okay... Okay, Leon."

He leans down again, pressing wet kisses on your neck and cheeks, as his length glides between your folds. "I will not move until you're ready..." And then, he begins pushing himself inside.

Your nails dig into his shoulders with a gasp. His hand grips the pillows as he grunts. Both of you release soft noises of pain, holding onto each other as he continues to slowly enter you.

You hold back a scream when he finally bottoms out, doing your best to relax as to not hurt him anymore. You feel his soft kisses on your face as he apologizes continuously, hand roaming the skin of your waist as the other rubs circles into your clit again.

After what feels like forever, the pain slowly subsides and makes room for pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders loosens. You instead put them around his neck, digging your hands into his hair. "I'm ready, Leon... You can move-"

His hips snap against yours without warning.

You cry out, clinging to him as he begins to thrust into you at an animalistic rate. He grunts with every thrust, caging your body in as he loses himself.

"I have waited so long-. Please, please forgive me, sweet angel-"

Heavy panting and the smell of sex fills the air, the sound of skin meeting skin resounding within the room. Your moans and pleas do nothing to teeter the wild and rough movements of Leon's hips. He growls into your neck, holding your hips to keep you from getting away.

The knot is seconds away from snapping, but it feels stronger than it was before. Different even... Almost like you need to run to the pot. You feel overwhelmed, pushing at Leon's shoulders. "I can- I can't! It's too much- Ah! Leon-!"

The band snaps.

You scream, toes curling and back arching.

Your body pushes out a wave of liquid, most likely soiling your sheets. The feeling burns you inside and out, tensing all of your muscles and leaving you weak and trembling. You pant heavily, body still jerking from Leon roughly thrusting into you.

The after-bliss you'd once felt begins to feel uncomfortable. Overstimulated, you claw at his biceps in hopes of getting his attention.

He groans when he hears you whine. "Almost- Almost there-"

His thrusts get sloppy, his cock hitting somewhere so deep that it somehow prolongs the burn. You bite his collarbone to keep from screaming again.

It would seem that was his final push, as he pushes deep inside of you, releasing a low, husky groan and throwing his head back.

You watch as his entire body shudders, his grip on your hips tightening so much you're sure you'll have bruises in the morning.

A warm rush of liquid flows into you, seeming to be a never-ending flow as Leon falls limp, landing right beside you.

You'll definitely have to bribe your guards in the morning.

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Whoops!

Sorry for ending it like that! If you guys want this to have more, let me know! I'll pick it up from here!

Let me know what you think!

Hope you enjoyed! <3

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

#viaoverthemoon #leon kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon s kennedy smut #re4 leon #re4 #smut #resident evil leon #reader insert #leon smut #leon s kennedy #x y/n #x reader #resident evil x reader

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fatum679 · 3 months

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HOTD s2x03

The scene with Helaena and Jaehaera is my favorite. Helaena loves her daughter so much and smiles at her. I'm happy.

Thanks to the writers that Helaena didn’t go crazy, which means there will be more of her in subsequent episodes and seasons, I’m so glad about that. Helaene is so thoughtful and wise - she is a true queen.

Helaena was able to forgive Alicent for forcing her to participate in a public funeral, for what she was doing during the murder of her grandson, and also, I am sure, Helaena forgives Alicent for forcing her to repeat her fate, for forced Helaena to marry an unloved man who ignores her and considers her an idiot.

I am very happy that Helaena and Alicent relationship has improved. Alicent really needed forgiveness.

Thanks to Rhaenys for saying that Luke cut out Aemond's eye and that was the beginning of the end. Some people can "laugh" all they want about Alicent writing letters to Rhaenyra, but Rhaenyra didn't write a single letter to Alicent or HER BROTHER after what happened to his eye. She just wanted to torture (sharply questioned) the one-eyed CHILD.

Poor Dyana, I feel so sorry for her, if it weren’t for Aegon, she would have worked in the castle, which is many times safer. She personifies all women of that time. With a 99.999% probability, if you end up in this world, then her fate awaits you. You will just try to survive.

I really didn't want to watch the scene with Aemond in the brothel, because I knew what was waiting for me. I feel so sorry for Aemond, he suffers from Stockholm Syndrome towards Sylvia (Madame). Aegon brought him to a brothel at the age of 13, when he was still a child, Aemond survived violence and the fact that he, as a teenager at the age of 16-18, comes to Madame, I think this is either Stockholm syndrome, or a desire to cope with his childhood trauma , he is trying to accept what happened to him. This is really a twisted "therapy" and I'm not entirely sure that Aemond and Sylvia had sex, I'm more inclined to think that he was just laying there because he's so emotionally repressed. I believe that he also came to her and only her, because he has complexes about his appearance and he is sure that he scares other ladies, and Sylvia has already seen his scar.

In this episode, Aegon himself confirmed to us that he stopped coming to the brothel, which means Madame didn’t lie, which means Errick didn’t lie and Aegon was really present at children’s fights.

Aegon remains the "ugly" brother. He continues to humiliate Aemond. Aegon has caused his brother trauma that he cannot overcome. He humiliates Aemond all his life and, since he has a crown on his head, he will not stop humiliating, bullying and treat him like property. This is so unbearable and unfair.

Aemond, I support you. Break an egg and make yourself some scrambled eggs.

Aemond the fierce - I like it.

I'm glad Aemond and Madame's story is over. Aemond returned to reality.

I'm looking forward to Helaemond in episodes 6-8. Aemond and Helaena must heal each other.

Jace kissed only his brother Joffrey, but did not say goodbye to Aegon 3 and Viserys 2. He doesn't really care about them.

Gwayne is such a fool. My respect for Criston is gradually returning, it’s a pity that only in such a contrast. Now I understand that Aegon is like Gwayne.

Daemon suffering from the murder of Jaehaerys - I don't believe it. He wants to kill his brother’s children because their grandfather is Otto and so that he and Rhaenyra have no rivals. You won't fool me.

Rhaenyra says that Viserys loved Alicent - no, that's not true. He only loved you and Daemon; he didn't care about other children.

Rhaenyra swore by the memory of her mother that she was still a virgin - a lie.

Alicent swears on the memory of her mother, because she really believes in the words of Viserys, she understood him that way and she is not deceiving. Alicent could end the war now, sorry, but I had to say it. She could scream and Rhaenyra would be caught, or come to a common decision with her. Choose what you like best.

Alicent talks about Aemond as a monster, clearly your golden boy is no longer "golden" and you just abandon him without trying to understand. What kind of mother are you? You forgot that your "friend" wanted to torture your 10 year old son.

I don’t know how to react to their scene; I should have tried to establish relationships earlier, when the children were little. If Rhaenyra had told Alicent about her relationship with Criston, it would have brought them closer together and Alicent would have understood and supported her. One lodge destroyed everything. It's not Alicent's fault that Viserys chose her as his wife. Alicent came to Viserys because she had no choice and her upbringing did not allow her to refuse her parents.

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mrsevans90 · 8 months

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Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 13

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller

Warnings: SMUT, p in v intercourse, face sitting (oral F), tiny mention of butt stuff 😜, angst, period, Emma embarrassed, anxious Sy, Nana (because her sassiness is a warning), language

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!

Part 12

Two weeks have passed since Emma’s parents visited and we have been spending the night together every night since. I’ve cleaned out a drawer in my bedroom that now holds extra clothes for when Emma’s here including some work scrubs so she can leave straight from my house. She cleaned out a drawer at her house for me and my spare clothes. I haven’t had this level of commitment to someone since I was in my twenties, but rather than feeling afraid I feel comforted. Coming home to her is just the most incredible feeling. She has really transformed my house into a home simply with her presence. We gave each other spare keys to each other’s homes last week so we wouldn’t have to wait on each other. I have finally accepted that Emma is my end game and I can’t run from happiness anymore. She’s basically aware of how damaged I am, having seen me through my worst flashback yet and even then, she wasn’t scared away. I often catch myself thinking about us living together, marrying her, and what our lives would look like if she would have me. I made myself so hard thinking about her pregnant with my children that I had to take a second shower one day last week. May have tapped into a bit of a breeding kink there but I plan to keep that to myself.

Tonight, it’s a Friday night and we decided to stay at mine. I’m on my way home and pull up to see that Emma’s jeep is already parked in the driveway and I smile. The vet clinic closes early on Friday afternoons due to it being slow, but this is the first time she’s beat me home. I unlock the front door and my nostrils are assaulted with the most incredible smelling aroma after a long day in the sun. I’m surprised that there are no dogs rushing to bombard me with excitement at the door, but as I walk further down the hall to find them practically on top of Emma on the couch as a show played on the tv.

“Hi Darlin’. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” I say with a kiss to her forehead from behind the couch that she’s resting on. Emma’s lounging in one of my t-shirts and some of her teeny tiny sleep shorts that never fail to make me instantly hard. I can even tell that she’s braless and I’m tempted to cop a feel.

“Mmm. Hi babe. How was work?”

“Hot.” I say honestly as I spent the majority of the day outside in the sun building a porch for a client. “Something smells amazing in the kitchen.”

“The lasagna has about ten more minutes until it’s done. I figure that’s enough time for you to shower or change into comfortable clothes before we eat.”

“You’re too damn good to me, Sugar.” I say as I tuck a stray hair from her eyes that’s fallen from her messy updo.

“Nope, just trying to be as good as you deserve.” She says with a shy smile and I find myself not wanting to leave her presence even for just a quick shower after being without her all day. I make a point to greet the dogs who have traitorously not left Emma’s side even to greet me as I chuckle to myself at how quickly this astonishing woman has won all of us over.

I head to my bedroom, chucking clothes off as I go and toss them all into the hamper, which is surprisingly empty. I hop in the shower not wasting any time getting back to my girl, and a delicious smelling meal. Once I’m through, I put on some lounge shorts and a t-shirt and find Emma in the kitchen plating up our food. She’s made lasagna with garlic bread, and she poured us each a glass of sweet tea. My stomach growled at the sight and she giggled cutely as I helped carry the food to the table. Before she sits, I wrap her into my arms and kiss her.

“Thank you for making dinner, Sugar.”

“Mmm, anytime. You sure you’re okay with me using the key and showing up before you got here? I was bored at the house and figured the pups would keep me company.”

“Darlin’, I can’t possibly tell you how much it brought a smile to my face having you here when I got home. I always want you here. Feels like a home with you in it. Now, let’s eat this feast, babygirl.”

“I made brownies for dessert.” She grins as she picks up her drink.

“You trying to make me pop a boner at the dinner table?” I ask jokingly and she chokes on her sip of sweet tea. Once Emma’s breath comes back to her after I dutifully contributed by smacking her back, we both start laughing so hard she has tears streaming down her face.

“I did not expect you to say that, Sy!” I’ve noticed she calls me Sy when she’s being playful or out in public. When it’s just us or family around, she calls me Austin and I honestly really like that since nobody ever uses my first name besides her.

“I usually think of that sweet pussy when I think of dessert, but I don’t mind having a brownie or two first.” I say with a wink and she shakes her head at me with a grin.

“So vulgar, Mr. Syverson.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, Ms. Miller.” I joke back.

We ate dinner until we were stuffed and I quickly began cleaning the kitchen. “Don’t look at me like that, woman. You cooked all of this. I’m cleaning. Go turn on your show and relax.” I tell her and she smacks my ass as she walks to the living room, with the dogs faithfully following her lead. I clean up and don’t hear the tv going so when I go looking for her, I see her in the backyard with the dogs. The summer heat has lessened as it is approaching dusk and Emma stands just outside the screened in porch throwing a tennis ball for Mills. Aika is rolling in the grass as lightning bugs start appearing at the edge of the yard. I walk out and wrap Emma tightly in my arms.

“I thought I told you to relax, Angel.”

“I am. This house, your property, everything about being here relaxes me. It’s so calm and quiet here.”

“Yeah? Always thought of this place as my little slice of heaven. Even more with you here.” I tell her and she smiles.

“Think you could see yourself living here with me one day?” I ask knowing it’s probably way to early and I might freak her out. To my surprise, she smiles and wraps her arms along my forearms that are holding her waist.

“It’s almost too easy to imagine that.” She whispers.

“Yeah?” I ask and she nods.

“Want to move in with me?” I ask surprising myself even. It’s early in the relationship still, but it feels right.

“Isn’t it too soon?” She asks as she turns and looks at my face scanning for the answer to her question.

“I guess that’s up to us to decide. I’m not ever wanting to pressure ya, Sugar, but I can’t say I don’t picture us living here together in this big old house. Maybe one day even some kids to fill up those bedrooms.”

Emma beams and kisses me. Moments of gentle kisses soon become heated and I’m guiding her back inside the screened in porch, the screen door squealing in protest as it slams behind us.

“Time for dessert, and I don’t mean the brownies.” I say between passionate kisses. My hands are under the too large shirt she’s wearing, and I pull it over her head. She seemingly has no qualms about being topless here in my secluded backyard and I quickly reach behind my neck and pull my own shirt off so I can feel her skin against mine. Our hands are everywhere, groping and teasing at the same time before I turn her back against my chest and take her breasts in my hands while nipping down her neck. After sucking on her skin, I turn and lay myself down on my back on the outdoor couch that I had built a few years ago.

“Climb on, sweetness.” I tell her and she slides her tiny shorts down along with her barely there thong and steps out of them. Emma reaches for my shorts that are tented from my very obvious boner but I shake my head and point to my chin. Emma’s cheeks turn bright pink and I smirk at her.

“Got your seat all ready for ya, Darlin’. Let me have a taste of that perfect peach.”

“I’ve never done that.” She whispers as I pull her close to my face.

“Sit down.” I tell her.

“Austin, you won’t be able to breathe, I’ll smother you!” Emma frets. Like her tiny little frame could possibly suffocate me, but even so that would be the ideal way to go.

“Woman, just sit on my face!” I say as I pull her hips and ass down and hold her tightly. Emma gasps when she contacts my beard and I blow my warm breath onto her delicate core.

“That’s more like it, Sugar. Relax and let me eat.” I command with a smack to her ass cheeks. Emma surges forward and grips the arm rest of the couch as I get to work. I slide my tongue around her entrance and lick up in figure eights around her clit. Emma’s breathing becomes faster and when I spear my tongue into her opening she moans. My hands knead and massage her buttocks as I stare up at her heaving breasts that are chasing each breath she takes. Her eyes are closed tightly as her head tilts back slightly from the sensation I’m providing. When I begin putting pressure on her sensitive little button, Emma begins grinding against my face, her earlier hesitation seemingly no longer of concern. I double down and focus my efforts of pleasuring her as best as I can. My arm stretches out and grabs a handful of her breasts and lightly pinch the peaked bud. God, I could stay down here all day watching her like this. I continue teasing her sensitive nipples and am finally rewarded with her grinding down hard as her hands are grasping the short hair on my head. Emma moans loudly in her bliss, not caring one bit that we are outside. Her thighs clamp around me as I suck on her sweet little nub and greedily swallow up the juices that are dripping from her core. I maneuver Emma to where she is laying on top of me as she comes down from her high and wipe my soaked beard with my hand. Emma leans up to kiss me and I’m certain she can taste her little cunt on my lips which makes me painfully hard.

“Fuck me, Sy. Hard.” She whines which makes me immediately sit up and lean her over the arm of the outdoor couch. Emma is panting in wordless anticipation as run my finger through her slick arousal before dropping my shorts and pressing myself against her. Emma impatiently pushes her ass further into my leaking erection and after spreading her legs a little wider, I slide home.

“Fucking hell, Darlin’. Never had a pussy feel so good. You’re perfect, baby girl.” I growl at her warm, wet heat as it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. It’s a privilege being able to worship her body and that knowledge is not lost on me. I give her only a moment to adjust before I retreat and then slam into her again.

“Ah! Baby! You feel so good inside of me.” She mewls as I thrust into her. I spread her round globes and look at her perfect little asshole.

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby girl. So beautiful and sexy.” I grunt.

“Tell me if you don’t like what I’m doing, Sugar.” I command. My ball sack is smacking her clit each time I thrust forward and I can no longer help myself. I spit onto her tight hole and gently circle it with my thumb. Emma moans at the sensation and I slowly slide my thumb into her tight rim. I smack her left ass cheek as I gently prod my thumb in and out of her snug hole.

“Fuck babe! I’m gonna cum!”

“Yeah Darlin’, let go for me. Let me feel you soak my cock.” I grunt.

Emma moans as she clamps down around me and I spear into her harder and faster until I reach my release, spurting my seed into her channel. Emma presses her body against the couch and I can’t help but lay across her soft back as I try and catch my breath. I’m not as young as I once was, but Sy’s still got it.

Emma looks absolutely shattered so once I remove myself from her, I gather our clothes, let the dogs inside and carry her to the master bathroom. I set her on the toilet while I start filling the bathtub and appreciate Emma’s sleepy smile at my preparations. While the water is filling, I jog back down to the kitchen, wash my hands, and grab the platter of brownies Emma made with two cups of milk. Emma giggles when she sees me smuggling our treats back into the bathroom and setting out a stool next to the tub to place them on. When the water is filled and the bubbles are sufficient, I step in first before helping Emma in and positioning her on my lap. Emma’s back rests against my chest and I think about the last time we bathed in here together and how nervous I was for her to sleep over. Now, I only sleep poorly when she’s not next to me. I lean forward and get each of us a brownie and we gently bump them together with a “cheers” before digging in.

“I gave Millsy-bear his last set of puppy shots this afternoon when I got here, by the way.” She says.

“Thanks, Sugar. No wonder he was snuggling hard on the couch when I made it home.”

“I gave him treats and extra cuddles for having to get a shot. Aika got one just for being cute. Bribery is key in veterinary medicine.” Emma says.

“You make house calls for all of your clients?”

“Only one. My favorite.”

“You’re my favorite too, Sugar.” I place a kiss on her temple.

“Oh, I was talking about Mills… Awkward.” She jokes and I tickle her ribs.

“I guess you’re up there on the list of my favorite things.” Emma says with kiss to my lips before picking a brownie crumb from my scruff. She smiles as she eats it and then takes a bite out of her dessert.

“Are you always this happy?” I ask her without thinking. I know I have a reputation of being extremely serious, or a ‘grump’ as Alex says, but Emma is the opposite. She’s like sunshine. The daytime to my nighttime. She’s made me smile and laugh more in these three months than probably ever before.

“Um not at all. You just make me really happy, Sy.”

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, Darlin.”

Emma and I lay in the tub talking about all things that come to mind until the water gets cold and my perpetual warmth isn’t enough for her. She's shivering as we climb out. We rinse off the bubble bath in the shower quickly before getting in bed and falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

I wake up early the next morning, close to six am and see my sleeping beauty is still a mess of hair and disheveled blankets next to me. She slept in one of my t-shirts last night since she was still cold from our extended bath, and as no surprise it’s twisted up around her waist. I smile at her disarray before snuggling up to her. When I do, I feel like I’ve rolled in something wet so I lift the covers. Oh no, a little patch of blood. Emma must’ve started her period in her sleep and knowing what I do about how she’s been treated in the past, I don’t want her to panic. I ease out of bed to grab some clothes, using my military stealth to do so as quietly as possible. Luckily my girl could sleep through a tornado, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I scribbled out a quick note telling her not to panic, and that I’ve run to the store but I’ll be right back in case she wakes up before placing it on my pillow.

Thank goodness there is a pharmacy about seven minutes from my house. I walk in and try my best to think of anything she might need. I purchase some tampons, pads, painkillers, a hot water bottle, and all of the chocolate my arms can carry. They even had some flowers there and I grabbed those at the checkout. The elderly woman at the register just smiled at me and told me I was a “good man.” This should be the standard for men taking care of their women, but clearly, it’s not. I quickly load everything up and head back to the house. I head to bedroom and Emma hasn’t moved an inch. I take the female hygiene items to the bathroom and place them on the countertop, before going to gently wake Emma up. I hate to do it but I figure it’s likely better to let her only see a little spot of blood rather than a big one and panicking even more.

“Sugar… Hey beautiful.” I stroke her hair away from her face and she gently shakes her head at me.

“uh-uh… no.” She grunts and I chuckle.

“Darlin’, can you wake up for me for just a minute please?”

“It’s Saturday… and still dark out, Sy.” She says after peaking one eye open.

“I know, and I’ll let you go back to sleep in just a minute but I need your attention.”

She yawns before I continue.

“I don’t want you to panic, so please remember, it’s okay. I’m not like the guys you’ve been with in the past.”

“Sy? What are you saying? It’s too early for riddles.”

“I think you may have started your period last night. Now, it’s no problem but I wanted to let you know so you co”

“Oh my god!” She interrupts, jerking covers up above her head to appraise the situation.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” She says with tears rimming her eyes as she lifts her head from the covers.

“Now, stop it right there. You’ve got nothing to apologize for. It’s okay, Sugar. Take a breath.”

“I… um.. need to head back to my house.” She says quickly as a tear falls from her eye.

“I’ve got everything you need, baby, and I’m going to take care of you. Now, head on into the bathroom and take care of what you need to, and I’ll take care of this.”

“Sy, I’m so embarrassed. I need tampons and I didn’t bring any. I will replace the sheets.”

“No need, I’ll just toss ‘em in the washer and it’ll be just fine. I bought tampons and pads. They’re on the counter.” I help her out of bed and lead her into the bathroom.

“I tried to get a little bit of everything since I don’t know what you prefer so you just do what you need to do, baby girl. Nothing to be embarrassed about, I promise.” I kiss her forehead and she nods as more tears streak down her face. I want to scoop her up and stop her tears but figured she might just want a minute alone to collect herself. I hear the shower turn on as I close the door behind me.

I walk out and quickly strip the bed and throw the sheets in the washer before making the bed up with clean sheets. As I’m making the bed, I get angry thinking about her douche ex-boyfriend who made her feel so ashamed for her body doing something that it is supposed to do. The more I think about it, the angrier I get as I’m shoving the pillows into the new pillowcases.

“Um, thank you, for the stuff.” I hear Emma whisper as I quickly turn around and see her there. She looks so small as she wraps her arms around herself.

“Is what I got okay?” I ask and she nods before going to her bag and pulling on some new panties, t-shirt, and sweatpants.

I pat the clean bed and she crawls up next to me before I hear her sob into my chest. I can’t seem to get her to look at me as she buries her face into my chest so I just hold her until her breath comes easier.

“Feel better?”

“Not really. I’m just embarrassed.”

“No need to be baby girl. I promise you, it’s fine. I just want you to be comfortable.”

“You make me comfortable. It’s just hard to change how I think after being told it was disgusting my whole life.”

“Trust me, if I ever see that douchebag again I will punch him so hard for ever making you feel like that.” I tell her as I wipe a tear from her cheek.

“Let me take care of you?” I ask and Emma nods with a small smile.

“Good. I got you an arsenal of chocolate, some painkillers, and a hot water bottle too.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Isn’t that stuff helpful?”

“It is, very much so… I just mean you didn’t have too.”

“I want too… Sugar, I love you.” I say and Emma sits up to look at me.

“You do?” She bites her lip.

“I love you more than I can even articulate.” I tell her truthfully.

“I love you too, Austin. I love you so much.” She says and I swear to God, I am beaming.

I love this woman and she loves me. Emma leans forward and kisses me in a kiss so consuming I can picture our whole lives together. After kissing a little, we lay back down and I stroke her hair until she’s fallen back asleep. When she’s thoroughly asleep, I ease up and decide to take the dogs out to get them a little bit of exercise before heading to the kitchen to make us some breakfast.

Emma saunters downstairs about two hours later seeming more well rested as I’ve got her breakfast plated up. She kisses on the dogs who are eagerly corralling around her legs before walking over to me and kissing me tenderly.

“Thank you for breakfast.”

“Anything for you, sweet darlin’.” I wink over my coffee cup as Emma fills her cup and adds her creamer.

Emma glances at her phone with an inquisitive look.

“Everything alright?” I ask.

“Yeah, I just was checking my security cameras. I think the Rodriguez family across the street from me got their teenager a car. It’s been parked out in the street across from the house all day yesterday. I knew he must be close to driving age. It just turned around in my driveway so I got a notification on my phone. That’s all.” She says nonchalantly and I nod at her assumption.

“What should we do today?” I ask her as we eat.

“Maybe go to the grocery store? I figured I could go ahead and meal prep for the week. I also need to get the ingredients to make banana pudding for your Nana and PawPaw’s house.”

“Sugar, you don’t have to go to all that trouble.” I start but Emma shakes her head.

“No, when we talked last week I told her that I wouldn’t mind bringing dessert.” I just about choke on my bacon.

“She called you?” I ask and Emma blushes.

“She did. Is that okay?”

“Of course, that’s more than fine… I just don’t want her bothering you. She’s a bit of a handful if you know what I mean. I didn’t even realize she got your number.”

“Well, she told me not to tell you because you would ‘whine about her interfering’, but she called the vet clinic and got in touch with me there. She said she wanted to make sure I was joining y’all for lunch Sunday, and then wanted my mom’s number so they could keep in touch.”

“That woman.” I shake my head incredulously.

“I ask her to not interfere, and she goes around calling you and your family. Good grief.” I chuckle at the audacity of Nana. She’s going to get her way no matter what. She’s never gone to these extremes to contact anyone I’ve dated though, so maybe it’s a good thing.

Emma giggles.

“I think it’s sweet. Anyway, we got to talking about her cooking and I offered to make dessert. If that’s okay with you, let’s go ahead and go to the store after breakfast.”

“I’ll do anything you want me too, Sugar.”

We eat and chat a bit before Emma changes clothes and starts gathering her items to head to the store. I head upstairs and throw on some different clothes as well before we load up and head to the store.

When we get there, I’m in charge of the buggy. Emma has a list on her phone of all the items she needs to get, so I just follow her with the cart as she gathers her items. I also add a few of my own favorites as we are traversing the aisles, such as chips and beef jerky.

Once we’ve got everything on our list, we head to the checkout and I insist again on paying. Emma crosses her arms, jutting out her hip with a scowl that I can’t help but chuckle at. She’s like an angry kitten and I just want to kiss all over her face, so I do. After we pay, we make our way out the doors.

“By the way, you said you wanted steaks one night this week. Did you remember to put those in the cart?”

“Shit, I totally forgot. Here,” I hand Emma my truck keys. “Let me run back and grab some while you put the groceries in the truck?” I ask and Emma nods. I kiss her forehead before jogging back in the store to collect and purchase the forgotten steaks.

I skip the small talk with the cashier and head straight for the self-check out so that I hopefully don’t keep Emma waiting too long. After buying our main dinner entrée, I head outside toward my large grey truck, with Syverson Contracting Inc. embossed along the side. Emma must’ve loaded the groceries quickly as I don't see her. I walk over and notice she’s not in the passenger seat before I hear her scream.

“LET GO OF ME!” I drop the bag and turn to look for her. About 30 yards away, I spot someone I recognize. Then it dawns on me who it is.

Colin.

Part 14

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood, @sofiebstar

Author's Note: Ya girl's struggling with a sinus infection right now but I was able to finally get this posted! Had an ultrasound today and baby was healthy and active so I am happy!

#henry cavill characters #captain syverson #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fic #captain syverson smut #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #captain syverson fluff

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novaursa · 2 months

Text

Final Part

- Title: zōbrie ānogar

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Romance: (Aegon II/OFC)

- Warning: All flags are up for this work. Aegon is also a warning on his own.

- Summary: It was written by Archmaester Gyldayn that on the day Princess Vaella Targaryen was born she was supposed to die. Until she fed upon her twin, Baelon. And when she turned one and five, she sought her end in the lair of Cannibal, in Dragonmont. But instead of feasting upon her, the dragon wept with her. And Archmaester had written a lengthy thesis on how wild dragon recognized a kindred soul in the Princess, as they both dined on their kin.

- Word count: 6 000+

- Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

As Vaella moved deeper into the Dragonpit, her heart ached with bittersweet memories. She passed by Syrax, her sister Rhaenyra's dragon, who gave a hostile snarl at her approach. Vaella's heart broke at the sight. Syrax had often flown her on her back as a child, when Rhaenyra loved to fly with her sister. But those days were long gone.

"Syrax," Vaella whispered, her voice tinged with sorrow. "I wish things could be different."

Tyraxes, the dragon of Rhaenyra's son, huddled behind the larger Syrax. He omitted the same menacing growl, his eyes watching Vaella warily. She forced herself to look away, focusing on the task at hand.

"Come," she urged her men. "We must free the others."

They proceeded deeper into the Dragonpit, where the rest of her loyalists awaited. Shykos and Morghul, the dragons of Helaena's twins, were chained nearby. They were restless, their scales glinting in the dim light. Vaella's own children's dragons, Auroxas and Glazhael, were also present. Auroxas, with his dark, almost black green scales streaked with silver, was already pulling and tearing at the chains that bound him. Glazhael, her scales a lighter green with a bluish tint, watched with striking blue eyes.

"Steady, Auroxas," Vaella murmured, approaching the unruly dragon. "We will free you soon."

The men worked quickly, their hands steady despite the urgency of their mission. One by one, the chains fell away, and the dragons stretched their wings, testing their newfound freedom.

As the last chain fell from Glazhael, Vaella turned to her loyalists. "We must hurry. Once we are airborne, there is no turning back."

Ser William nodded, his expression determined. "Let us go, Your Grace. We have little time."

With the dragons now free, Vaella led her group towards the exit. The massive creatures followed, their powerful forms a reassuring presence. As they neared the outer yard, Vaella's heart raced with a mixture of fear and hope.

"Cannibal," she called softly, and the great dragon emerged from the shadows, his eyes gleaming with recognition. Vaella approached him, her hand gentle on his scales. "It is time."

As she prepared to climb upon Cannibal, the sound of approaching footsteps froze her in place. She turned, her heart sinking as she saw Rhaenyra herself, flanked by soldiers, blocking their path.

"Vaella," Rhaenyra said, her voice cold and filled with anger. "What do you think you are doing?"

Vaella's eyes narrowed, her hand tightening around the hilt of her dagger. "I am taking what is mine. The dragons do not belong in chains, and neither do I."

Rhaenyra stepped forward, her soldiers closing in around her. "You betray me, sister. You betray your family."

"It is you who have betrayed us," Vaella retorted, her voice rising with defiance. "Your rule has brought nothing but suffering. I will not stand by and watch as our family is torn apart."

The tension in the air was palpable, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows on the ground. The dragons, sensing the hostility, growled and shifted restlessly.

"Stand down, Vaella," Rhaenyra commanded, her voice echoing in the night. "Or face the consequences."

Vaella's heart pounded, her mind racing with the weight of their confrontation. She glanced at her loyalists, their expressions determined and ready for whatever came next.

"Make your choice, sister," Rhaenyra said, her eyes blazing with fury. "But know that there will be no mercy if you continue down this path."

Behind Vaella, Auroxas, sensing the hostility and the distance of his rider, screeched and suddenly propelled himself forward, his powerful legs pushing off the ground. With a massive beat of his wings, he sent everyone tumbling. Dust and debris filled the air as Cannibal roared in response to the chaos, his thunderous voice echoing through the Dragonpit.

Auroxas took to the sky, his dark and silver-streaked scales glinting in the moonlight. His sister, Glazhael, immediately followed, her lighter green scales with a bluish tint shimmering. The two dragons flew off into the dark sky towards the Dragonstone, their forms disappearing into the night.

Soon after, Shykos and Morghul, the dragons of Helaena's twins, took off towards the direction of the Vale, their roars fading into the distance. The sudden departure of the dragons caused a whirlwind of wind and dust, creating further chaos among those on the ground.

Rhaenyra, determined and fueled by anger, managed to get to her feet. She sprinted towards Vaella, her hands outstretched. Vaella tried to mount Cannibal, but Rhaenyra reached her just in time, grabbing her arm with a vice-like grip.

"Vaella, stop this madness!" Rhaenyra shouted, her voice barely audible over the cacophony of roars and clashes. "You don't have to do this!"

Cannibal, unsure of what to do to avoid injuring Vaella, roared more furiously. His massive form shifted, his eyes locked on Rhaenyra. Vaella struggled against her sister's grip, her heart pounding with fear and determination.

"Let me go, Rhaenyra!" Vaella cried, her voice filled with desperation. "This isn't the way!"

Rhaenyra tightened her hold, her expression a mix of anger and sorrow. "You leave me no choice, Vaella. You leave me no choice."

As the sisters struggled, Rhaenyra's soldiers clashed with Vaella's loyalists. The sounds of steel meeting steel filled the air, punctuated by shouts and cries. The ground was littered with fallen men, the night a maelstrom of violence and fury.

Cannibal shifted again, his massive tail sweeping across the ground, creating a barrier between Vaella and Rhaenyra’s soldiers. The dragon’s eyes glinted with barely restrained rage, his roar vibrating through the very stones of the Dragonpit.

"Vaella, get on Cannibal and fly!" Ser William shouted, his sword clashing against an enemy’s blade. "We’ll cover you!"

But Rhaenyra’s grip was unyielding. With a final surge of strength, she pulled Vaella away from Cannibal, dragging her towards her own men. Cannibal, seeing his rider taken, roared in fury, but was unable to act without risking Vaella's life.

"Rhaenyra, please!" Vaella pleaded, her voice breaking. "You don’t have to do this. We can still make things right."

Rhaenyra’s face was set with grim determination. "It’s too late for that, Vaella. This has to end."

As Rhaenyra dragged Vaella to her men, the chaos around them intensified. Vaella's loyalists fought desperately to reach her, but they were outnumbered and overpowered. The clash of swords and the cries of the wounded filled the air, a grim symphony of battle.

Rhaenyra's soldiers quickly shackled Vaella in chains, the cold metal biting into her skin. Vaella's heart sank as she realized the full extent of their defeat. She looked into Rhaenyra’s eyes, seeing a mixture of anger, pain, and regret.

"It’s time this ends, once and for all," Rhaenyra said, her voice cold and final.

Vaella’s heart ached with the weight of their shattered bond.

…

The next day dawned with a heavy sense of foreboding hanging over King’s Landing. The sun’s first rays cast a pale light over the city, but the streets were already filled with tense whispers and uneasy glances. Rhaenyra Targaryen, desperate to restore order and assert her power, decided to make a public spectacle of judging her sister, Vaella, in the town square.

Rhaenyra hoped that by forcing Vaella to submit and recognize her as the true ruler while denouncing Aegon, she could quell the rising tide of rebellion. The town square was packed with smallfolk, their faces a mix of fear, curiosity, and anger. Rhaenyra stood on a raised platform, her face a mask of grim determination. Syrax, her golden dragon, stood nearby, a formidable symbol of her power and protection.

Vaella was dragged before her, her wrists bound in iron chains. Her face, despite the bruises and weariness, held a defiant spark. The murmurs of the crowd grew louder as they watched the queen they had once loved brought low.

Rhaenyra raised her hand for silence, her voice carrying over the assembly. "People of King’s Landing, I stand before you today to deliver justice. My sister, Vaella Targaryen, has conspired against the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. She has defied the crown and must now answer for her actions."

Vaella lifted her chin, her indigo eyes blazing with defiance. "I have done nothing but fight for what is right. It is you who have brought suffering upon this city.

"Rhaenyra’s expression hardened. "You will denounce Aegon and recognize me as the true ruler, or you will face the consequences."

The crowd held its breath, the tension palpable. Vaella glanced around, meeting the eyes of the smallfolk who had once adored her. She took a deep breath, her voice ringing out clear and strong. "I will never denounce my beloved husband. Aegon II is the one true king!"

A murmur of shock rippled through the crowd. Rhaenyra’s face twisted with anger and desperation. "Vaella, you force my hand. Submit, or face the wrath of Syrax."

Vaella’s eyes locked onto Rhaenyra’s, filled with sorrow and resolve. "You’ve already lost, Rhaenyra. Killing me will not change that."

Rhaenyra’s eyes filled with tears, her voice breaking. "Why do you make me do this? You are my sister. We could have ruled together."

Vaella shook her head. "You chose this path, Rhaenyra. Now live with the consequences."

Rhaenyra’s shoulders shook with silent sobs as she turned to her dragon. "Syrax, obey."

The golden dragon hesitated, its eyes flicking between Rhaenyra and Vaella, sensing the bond of blood and the inner turmoil of its rider. Rhaenyra, voice trembling, repeated the command, her desperation evident. "Syrax, obey."

The dragon let out a low growl, uncertain, but finally reared back, its massive form casting a shadow over the square. The crowd screamed in horror as Syrax unleashed a torrent of flame, engulfing Vaella in a searing blaze.

As the dragon fire consumed her, Vaella did not scream. Instead, her thoughts drifted to her beloved husband, Aegon. She could see his face, his violet eyes filled with love and anguish. She remembered the nights they spent together, wrapped in each other's arms, their whispered words of love and promises for the future.

"Aegon, my love," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the roar of the flames.

Her thoughts then turned to their children, Baelor and Daena. She saw Baelor's bright eyes and mischievous smile, heard his laughter echoing in her ears. She pictured Daena's delicate features and soft curls, remembered the feel of her tiny hand in hers.

"Baelor, Daena, my sweet children," she murmured, tears streaming down her face.

And then, she thought of the small babe she had given birth to too early, the child she had seen only for a short while. A tear slipped down her cheek as she remembered holding him, feeling his tiny heartbeat against her chest.

And then there her little prince, slayed in his cradle.

"Aeron, my little Aeron," she whispered, her voice breaking.

In her mind's eye, she saw her twin brother, Baelon, through the flames. His presence was a comfort, a reminder of the bond they shared even in death. He reached out to her, his expression calm and serene.

"Baelon," she breathed, feeling a sense of peace wash over her.

Above the roar of the flames, she heard the mournful wail of her dragon, Cannibal. The bond they shared was strong, and she could feel his sorrow as if it were her own. Yet, even in her final moments, there was a sense of relief, as if a great weight was being lifted from her shoulders.

"I will be with you soon, my brother," she thought, her consciousness beginning to fade.

As the fire consumed her, Vaella felt the pain recede, replaced by a profound sense of calm. Her last conscious thought was of her family, the love they shared, and the hope that they would one day be reunited.

And then, there was nothing.

Syrax lowered its head, its jaws closing around Vaella’s charred remains. The dragon consumed her, the spectacle sending waves of shock and revulsion through the gathered masses. As the last echoes of the horrific scene faded, a profound silence fell over the square.

For a moment, there was only the sound of the wind and the crackle of dying embers. Then, as if in unison, the smallfolk erupted in a furious roar. Shouts of anger and curses filled the air, their cries condemning Rhaenyra for the murder of their beloved queen.

"You monster!" a woman screamed, tears streaming down her face.

"She was our queen!" a man shouted, shaking his fist in fury.

"Down with the usurper!" another voice rang out, sparking a wave of rebellious chants.

Rhaenyra stood frozen, her heart pounding with a mixture of grief and fear. The rebellion she had hoped to quash now burned hotter than ever. The smallfolk surged forward, their anger turning into violence as they clashed with the guards trying to maintain order.

Rhaenyra backed away, her eyes wide with the realization of her mistake. Syrax roared, sensing the rising threat, but even the presence of the dragon could not quell the fury of the people.

As the chaos erupted around her, Rhaenyra’s tears flowed freely. She had lost her sister, her people's trust, and perhaps her claim to the throne. The path she had chosen had led to this moment, and now, the full weight of her decisions crushed her.

…

The storm that followed the execution of Vaella Targaryen was unlike anything King's Landing had ever seen. The death of the beloved queen at the hands of Rhaenyra's dragon Syrax sent shockwaves through the city, and the simmering discontent of the smallfolk boiled over into outright rebellion. The city was ablaze with fury, and their target was clear: the Dragonpit.

Vaella's dragons had mourned her passing in their own ways. Cannibal, her wild and fiercely loyal dragon, had let out mournful wails that echoed through the city, a haunting symphony of loss. But the day before the storming of the Dragonpit, Cannibal flew away, disappearing into the horizon, his sorrow too great to be contained.

The mob, spurred on by the fervent rantings of the Shepherd, a crazed zealot, surged towards the Dragonpit atop the Hill of Rhaenys. Their goal was clear: they sought vengeance on Syrax, the dragon who had consumed their beloved queen, and Tyraxes, the dragon of Rhaenyra's son, Joffrey.

As the mob grew, Prince Joffrey, mounted on a horse, rode through the chaos-stricken streets. Whether he intended to ride into battle or reach the Dragonpit to save his dragon, Tyraxes, was unknown. Fearful for her son's safety, Rhaenyra ordered a rescue mission.

"Bring him back to the castle," Rhaenyra commanded, her voice shaking with fear and desperation. "Do whatever it takes, but bring him back."

Ser Medrick Manderly, Ser Loreth Lansdale, Ser Harrold Darke, Ser Harmon of the Reeds, Ser Gyles Yronwood, Ser Willam Royce, and Ser Glendon Goode—along with six squires, eight gold cloaks, and twenty men-at-arms—rode forth from the Red Keep. They fought their way through the streets, the sounds of battle and the cries of the angry mob filling the air.

Joffrey, however, was unable to remain on horseback. The enraged mob pulled him down, their hands tearing at him with savage fury. The Seven Who Rode arrived to find the mob cutting his body to pieces. With desperate determination, they managed to reclaim every part of him except for a foot.

"Get him out of here!" Ser Medrick shouted, his voice hoarse with emotion. "We can't let them desecrate him any further.

"As they retreated, carrying the remains of the prince, the City Watch marched forth from their barracks at the Dragon Gate to defend the Hill of Rhaenys. But the sheer force of the mob was unstoppable. Less than fifty Dragonkeepers stood guard the second night of the riots. Though they defended the Dragonpit with all the strength they had, the enraged masses eventually smashed through the doors of the Dragonpit's lesser entrances using crude rams and axes. Others climbed in through windows, their eyes wild with hatred and vengeance.

The Dragonkeepers fought bravely, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. One by one, they fell, their blood mingling with the dust and debris of the besieged Dragonpit. Syrax and Tyraxes roared in defiance, their fiery breath scorching the invaders, but it was not enough. The mob's sheer numbers overwhelmed them.

"Push forward!" screamed the Shepherd, his voice a beacon of fanaticism. "Destroy the beasts!"

The mob surged, and soon the Dragonpit was filled with the sounds of the dying dragons. Syrax fell first, her massive form crashing to the ground with a final, desperate roar. Tyraxes followed, his cries echoing in the night as the life was brutally torn from him.

The next morning, the aftermath was stark and brutal. The bodies of the fallen dragons and their keepers littered the Dragonpit. The fires had burned down, leaving a smoldering ruin in their wake. The smell of death hung heavy in the air.

Rhaenyra stood in the throne room, her face pale and drawn with grief. The loss of her son and their dragons was a blow from which she could not recover. Her rule had brought nothing but death and destruction, and now the very people she had sought to rule were in open rebellion against her.

"We must leave," said Ser Loreth Lansdale, his voice filled with urgency. "The city is lost. We cannot hold it any longer."

Rhaenyra nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "You are right. Gather those who are still loyal. We leave at first light."

As the dawn broke over King's Landing, Rhaenyra, now a shadow of the queen she once was, prepared to flee the city. She moved through the corridors of the Red Keep, her steps heavy with sorrow. Her remaining loyalists gathered, ready to make their escape.

"Your Grace," Ser Harrold Darke said softly, "we will protect you. We will find a way through this."

Rhaenyra nodded, her eyes hollow with grief. "Thank you, Ser Harrold. We must survive. For the sake of what remains."

With a final glance at the throne that had cost her so dearly, Rhaenyra and her loyalists slipped out of the city. The once-proud queen now fled like a hunted animal, the echoes of rebellion and the screams of the smallfolk ringing in her ears.

As they disappeared into the dawn, the city of King's Landing remained a smoldering ruin, a testament to the cost of power and the fragility of rule. The death of Vaella had sparked a fire that consumed everything in its path, leaving nothing but ashes and sorrow in its wake.

…

The first light of dawn brought a sorrowful stillness to Dragonstone. The air was heavy with grief, the very walls of the ancient castle seeming to echo the despair within. Aegon II Targaryen, bedridden and weakened, was shattered by the loss of his infant son Baelon. The child's fragile life had flickered out in the early hours of the morning, leaving a void that could never be filled.

Aegon's screams of anguish echoed through the castle, a haunting cry that sent shivers down the spines of all who heard it. His wails of despair carried through the corridors, reaching every corner of Dragonstone. Servants and guards alike bowed their heads, sharing in the king's grief.

"Baelon!" Aegon cried, his voice breaking. "My son, my precious boy!"

By the time Maester Gerardys was brought before Aegon, the bedridden king's fury had reached a fever pitch. The news of Vaella's gruesome end, alongside the betrayal of Ser Alfred Broome, had pushed him to the edge of madness. The queen's death, in such a horrific manner, had shattered any remaining semblance of restraint Aegon might have had.

"Your Grace," Gerardys began, his voice trembling with fear and regret. "I... I am so sorry for your loss. Please, I beg of you, understand that I had no part in this."

Aegon's eyes, filled with rage and grief, bore into Gerardys. "Liar!" he spat. "You were supposed to protect my son, my wife, my family! And now, they are gone!"

Ser Alfred Broome, his face pale with the realization of the consequences, stood by the door, unable to meet Aegon's gaze. "Your Grace, please, hear him out. There must be some explanation."

Aegon's voice was cold and unyielding. "There is no explanation that can bring back my son. No words that can undo the betrayal that has cost me everything."

With a sudden, violent motion, Aegon gestured to the guards. "Seize him!"

The guards moved quickly, grabbing the terrified maester and forcing him to his knees before the king. Gerardys pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. "Your Grace, I beg you, have mercy. I have served House Targaryen faithfully. Please, I did not betray you!"

Aegon's face twisted with fury. "Mercy? Mercy is for those who deserve it. You have failed me, Gerardys. You have failed my family."

The king's hands trembled with rage as he spoke. "Strangle him. Make him suffer."

The guards obeyed, their faces set with grim determination. Gerardys's pleas turned to choked gasps as the life was slowly squeezed from him. Aegon's eyes never left the maester's face, his own expression one of cold, unrelenting hatred.

When Gerardys finally fell silent, his body lifeless, Aegon ordered the next, even more gruesome part of his punishment. "Disembowel him. Let Sunfyre feast on his legs and innards."

The gruesome task was carried out with mechanical efficiency. Sunfyre, sensing the fresh meat, descended with a roar, his golden scales glinting in the dim light. The dragon tore into the maester's remains, his powerful jaws crunching through bone and sinew.

Aegon's heart was a storm of fury and grief. The sight of Sunfyre feasting on the man who had failed him brought a twisted sense of satisfaction. But it did nothing to ease the pain of his losses. Nothing could."

Put his head and upper torso on display at the gatehouse," Aegon ordered, his voice hollow. "Let it be a warning to Rhaenyra. Let her see what awaits her when she returns."

The guards, though horrified, obeyed without question. Gerardys's mutilated remains were placed at the gatehouse, a macabre sentinel awaiting the queen's eventual return. The gruesome display was a testament to Aegon's descent into madness, a chilling symbol of his broken heart and shattered mind.

As the day wore on, the weight of Aegon's grief pressed down on the castle. The loss of Baelon, the betrayal by those he trusted, and the horrific death of his beloved Vaella had left him a broken man. He lay in his bed, his body trembling with silent sobs, his mind haunted by the ghosts of his loved ones.

"Vaella," he whispered into the empty room, his voice raw with pain. "My love, my queen. I will avenge you. I will make them all pay."

Dragonstone stood as a fortress of grief and fury, the echoes of Aegon's screams reverberating through its halls. The king's heart was a cauldron of rage, his soul consumed by the fire of vengeance. And as the sun set on that sorrowful day, the castle seemed to mourn with him, its ancient stones weeping for the tragedy that had befallen the House of the Dragon.

…

The Violande sailed through the choppy waters towards Dragonstone, carrying Rhaenyra Targaryen to what she hoped would be a refuge after her desperate flight from King's Landing. But instead of sanctuary, she found betrayal. Upon her arrival, she was swiftly taken captive by Ser Alfred Broome and the greens who awaited her.

Rhaenyra was dragged through the cold, stone corridors of Dragonstone, her hands bound and her heart heavy with the weight of the war's losses. Aegon II Targaryen, bedridden and consumed by a fiery rage, awaited her in the grand hall. His face was a mask of fury, grief, and madness, his eyes burning with a hatred stoked by the deaths of his loved ones and the betrayal of those he trusted.

"Aegon," Rhaenyra said, her voice steady despite the fear and sorrow in her heart. "I came here seeking refuge, not a battlefield."

Aegon’s eyes narrowed, his voice cold as ice. "Refuge? You seek refuge after all that you have done? After you’ve torn this family apart, after Vaella, after Baelon, and after Aeron?" His voice broke at the mention of his sons.

Rhaenyra's face softened, tears welling up in her eyes. "I never wanted this war, Aegon. I never wanted the deaths, the bloodshed. We could have ruled together, united our family."

"United?" Aegon spat, his anger boiling over. "You brought nothing but death and ruin. You took everything from me. Vaella, Baelon, Aeron... my wife and sons!"

Tears streamed down Rhaenyra’s face. "They were my family too, Aegon. I lost them as well."

The room fell silent, the weight of their shared grief and regret hanging heavily in the air. For a moment, it seemed as if there might be a chance for reconciliation, a path towards peace. But the fury in Aegon's heart was too great.

With a voice filled with rage, Aegon gave the command. "Ser Alfred, bring her closer."

Ser Alfred Broome stepped forward, his face a mask of determination. He grabbed Rhaenyra and forced her to her knees before Aegon. Drawing a dagger, he pricked her breast, the sharp blade cutting through the fabric and skin. The smell of blood filled the air, rousing Sunfyre who stood nearby, his golden eyes gleaming with hunger and anticipation.

Rhaenyra looked up at Aegon, her voice filled with a calm resolve. "If you are to kill me, then do it. But spare my son Viserys. He is innocent in all of this."

Aegon's face twisted with fury. "Innocent? Just like Aeron was innocent? Slain in his cradle by your assassins? Your pleas mean nothing to me, Rhaenyra."

Her eyes met his, unwavering. "Then let my death be the end of it. Let him live."

Aegon’s eyes burned with rage and sorrow, his voice a deadly whisper. "There will be no mercy for you. You will meet the same fate as my Vaella."

With a roar, Sunfyre unleashed a blast of flame, engulfing Rhaenyra in a searing inferno. Her screams filled the hall, a sound of pure agony and despair. The fire burned away her defiance, leaving only pain and terror.

Sunfyre closed his massive jaws around Rhaenyra's arm and shoulder, tearing her flesh and bone. The dragon devoured her in six bites, his powerful jaws reducing her to nothing but a few remnants. All that remained was her left leg below the shin, a stark and gruesome reminder of her fate.

The hall fell silent, the echoes of her screams lingering in the air. Aegon watched with a cold, unfeeling gaze, his heart a barren wasteland of sorrow and rage. The sight of Sunfyre feasting on Rhaenyra brought no satisfaction, only a hollow emptiness.

Ser Alfred, his face pale and eyes wide with the horror of what had just transpired, turned to Aegon. "Your Grace, it is done. She is gone."

Aegon nodded, his voice devoid of emotion. "Prepare her remains. Let them be displayed as a warning to any who would defy me."

As the remains were taken away, Aegon slumped back in his chair, the weight of his actions pressing down on him. The hall, once filled with the promise of power and unity, was now a tomb of shattered dreams and lost hope.

Outside, the sky darkened, a storm brewing on the horizon. The castle of Dragonstone stood as a silent witness to the end of the Dance of the Dragons, its ancient stones echoing with the cries of the past.

Aegon II Targaryen, king in name but broken in spirit, sat alone, the ghosts of his family haunting his every thought. The throne he had fought so hard to claim was now a bitter reminder of all that he had lost. And as the storm raged outside, he knew that the true cost of power was one he could never repay.

…

With the death of Rhaenyra Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen took the Iron Throne, but his reign was short-lived. The pain from his shattered legs and the overwhelming grief for his wife Vaella and their children weighed heavily on him. Within a year, Aegon was found dead in his chambers. Septon Eustace claimed that the king had been poisoned, while Maester Gyldayn suggested that Aegon had taken his own life, unable to bear the physical pain and the emotional torment of his losses.

"He was a broken man," Maester Gyldayn wrote. "The pain in his limbs and body was nothing compared to the love and yearning he held for his dead wife, Vaella."

Aegon II was succeeded by his son Baelor, who took the throne as King Baelor I. In an effort to bring stability and peace to the realm, Baelor wed Helaena's and Aemond’s daughter, Jaehaera. This union was seen as a symbol of reconciliation and hope for the future of House Targaryen.

Baelor's sister, Daena, was wed to Rhaenyra's and Daemon's son, Viserys, in another strategic marriage aimed at healing the rift between the factions of their family. This marriage was instrumental in creating a sense of unity and easing tensions that had plagued the realm during the Dance of the Dragons.

The known dragons that survived the conflict—Dreamfyre, Sunfyre, Morghul, Shykos, Auroxas, Glazhael, and Silverwing—became symbols of the resilience of House Targaryen. Cannibal, the wild dragon, was last seen flying off from Dragonstone, never to be seen again. Archmaester Gyldayn later wrote that on the day Vaella Targaryen was born, she was supposed to die until she fed upon her twin, Baelon. When she turned one and five, she sought her end in the lair of Cannibal in Dragonmont. But instead of feasting upon her, the dragon wept with her. Archmaester Gyldayn's thesis posited that the wild dragon recognized a kindred soul in Vaella, as they both dined on their kin. However, no one ever truly understood the bond between Vaella and Cannibal, nor why her infant son Baelon died almost the exact moment she was burned and eaten by Syrax.

Alicent Hightower, the Dowager Queen, remained by the side of her grandchildren and her daughter Helaena until her death. Her influence was a stabilizing force in the court, and she worked tirelessly to ensure the safety and security of her family.

King Baelor I's reign was marked by a concerted effort to rebuild and restore the realm. His marriage to Jaehaera and the alliance with Viserys and Daena helped to solidify the Targaryen hold on the throne. Baelor was a just and wise ruler, known for his efforts to heal the wounds of the war and to promote peace and prosperity throughout the Seven Kingdoms.

The surviving dragons played a crucial role in maintaining the power and prestige of House Targaryen. Their presence served as a reminder of the might and majesty of the Targaryen dynasty, even as the number of dragons began to dwindle over the years.

Archmaester Gyldayn's writings on Vaella and Cannibal became a topic of much debate and fascination. His thesis, which suggested a deep and mysterious bond between the princess and the wild dragon, captivated scholars and dragonkeepers alike. The idea that Vaella's infant son Baelon died at the exact moment she was consumed by Syrax added another layer of intrigue to the tragic story.

"No one can truly understand the bond between Vaella and Cannibal," Gyldayn wrote. "But it is clear that their connection was profound and beyond the comprehension of mortal men."

The lords of the North, led by House Stark, had pledged their support to Rhaenyra during the Dance of the Dragons. However, the harsh winter that followed prevented them from marching south. By the time the snows melted, the war was over, and the realm had a new king. The Starks, ever pragmatic, accepted the new order and focused on rebuilding their own lands.

The changes wrought by the Dance of the Dragons and its aftermath had a lasting impact on Westeros. When Robert Baratheon rose in rebellion against the Mad King Aerys II Targaryen, the realm was once again thrown into chaos. However, the alliances and marriages that had been forged in the wake of the Dance provided a stronger foundation for House Targaryen to resist the rebellion.

King Robert I Baratheon eventually claimed the Iron Throne, but the Targaryens, with their remaining dragons and the legacy of their united house, remained a formidable force. The scars of the Dance of the Dragons were still felt, but the resilience and adaptability of House Targaryen ensured their continued influence and presence in the Seven Kingdoms.

The legacy of Vaella Targaryen and Aegon II was one of tragedy and resilience. Their love story, marred by betrayal and loss, became the subject of songs and tales throughout the realm. Their efforts to heal the wounds of their family and their ultimate sacrifices left an indelible mark on the history of Westeros.

The Iron Throne, though bloodied and contested, remained a symbol of the power and determination of House Targaryen. And as long as dragons flew in the skies of Westeros, the memory of Vaella and Aegon, and the lessons of the Dance of the Dragons, would never be forgotten.

…

In the Red Keep, a golden light streamed through the windows and delicate blinds, bathing the room in an ethereal glow. The bedchamber of Aegon II and Vaella Targaryen was transformed into a sanctum of warmth and vitality, a stark contrast to the often cold and somber atmosphere of their world. It was as if they had stepped into a timeless realm where pain and scars could no longer touch them.

Aegon and Vaella were entangled in a passionate embrace, their bodies moving with an almost feverish intensity. Vaella's long, pale blonde hair, intricately braided, cascaded over the pillows like a river of moonlight. Her indigo eyes were half-closed, filled with a mix of desire and love. Aegon's hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of her soft skin as if he were memorizing her all over again.

Their breaths came in ragged gasps, and the room echoed with the sounds of their lovemaking. The connection between them was palpable, each touch and kiss igniting a fire that seemed unquenchable. Vaella's full lips parted in a moan of pleasure as Aegon’s mouth found her neck, his kisses sending shivers down her spine.

"Aegon," she whispered, her voice a mix of longing and contentment. "Never let me go."

"Never," he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with emotion. "You are my everything, Vaella."

Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a dance as old as time itself. The intensity of their passion built to a crescendo, and as they reached the peak of their shared ecstasy, the world seemed to blur around them. In that moment, nothing else existed but the two of them, their love a blazing beacon in the golden light.

In the aftermath, they lay entwined in each other’s arms, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts beating as one. Vaella’s head rested on Aegon's chest, and she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a sound that had always brought her comfort.

She lifted her head to meet his gaze, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I wish this could last forever," she said, her fingers tracing the lines of his face. "That we would never be separated from one another."

Aegon laughed softly, the sound like music in the luminous room. "Forever is a long time, my love," he replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But in this moment, we have eternity."

Vaella sighed contentedly, snuggling closer to him. "It feels like a dream," she said. "A beautiful dream that I never want to wake up from."

Aegon kissed her forehead tenderly. "Then let's stay in this dream a little longer," he whispered. "Let's forget the world and just be us."

They lay in silence for a while, the golden light washing over them, filling the room with an almost magical glow. It was a moment of perfect peace, a rare treasure in their tumultuous lives. Vaella closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of Aegon's embrace, the feel of his heart beating in time with hers.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Aegon watching her, his expression one of pure adoration. "What is it?" she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Just thinking about how lucky I am," he replied, his fingers trailing down her arm. "To have you by my side, to share this life with you."

Vaella’s heart swelled with love. "And I with you," she said softly. "No matter what happens, we will always have each other."

Aegon nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Always," he agreed, pulling her closer. "In this life and the next."

As they lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside ceased to matter. In that sunlit room, they had found their own slice of paradise, a place where love reigned supreme and time stood still. And for that brief, shining moment, they were truly, completely happy.

…

King Baelor I sat alone in the grand hall of the Red Keep, his mind drifting back to memories of his parents. The hall, illuminated by the flickering light of numerous candles, seemed almost alive with shadows, dancing to the rhythm of his thoughts. Though he wore the crown of the Seven Kingdoms, his heart was heavy with the weight of remembrance.

Baelor absentmindedly traced the deep scar running from his mouth to his ear, a constant reminder of the day his world had irrevocably changed. The day the assassins came, sent by his aunt Rhaenyra and Daemon, was seared into his memory. They had almost killed him and had taken his infant brother Aeron from him. That wound had left a mark not only on his face but on his soul.

He closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him. His parents, Aegon II and Vaella Targaryen, were a vivid presence in his mind. Despite the tumult and bloodshed of the Dance of the Dragons, they had always been a source of strength and love.

Baelor remembered his mother, Vaella, with her long, pale blonde hair that she wore in elaborate braids, her full lips, and her indigo eyes. She was said to be extraordinarily beautiful, but to him, she was more than that. She was warmth, kindness, and an unbreakable spirit. He could still hear her laughter, a sound that had brought light into the darkest of days.

One memory stood out among the rest. He was a young boy, perhaps five years old, and he had wandered into his parents' bedchamber. The room was filled with golden light streaming through the windows, and there they were, his parents, wrapped in each other’s arms, laughing and talking in hushed tones. They had looked so happy, so alive.

His father, Aegon II, had noticed him first. "Baelor," he had called out with a smile, his voice filled with warmth. "Come here, my boy."

Baelor had run to his father, climbing onto the bed. Aegon had lifted him effortlessly, holding him close. "What brings you here, my little dragon?"

"I wanted to see you," Baelor had replied, his small hands reaching for his mother.

Vaella had kissed his forehead, her touch gentle and soothing. "And we are always glad to see you, my love."

They had spent that afternoon together, playing and talking, forgetting for a moment the chaos that surrounded them. It was one of the few times Baelor had seen his parents so at peace, and it was a memory he cherished deeply.

Now, as he sat alone, he felt the pang of their absence. They had been taken from him too soon, victims of a brutal war for the throne. Yet, their love and their strength had shaped him into the man he had become. A king who valued peace, who sought to heal the wounds of the past.

Baelor rose from his seat and walked to the window. The city below was quiet, a stark contrast to the storm that raged within him. He knew he carried his parents' legacy with him, a legacy of resilience and love.

His marriage to Jaehaera, Helaena's and Aemond's daughter, was also a testament to that legacy. They were working together to rebuild the realm, to bring about a new era of peace and prosperity. It was not an easy task, but he was determined to honor his parents' memory by creating a better future for their descendants.

As the night wore on, Baelor found solace in his memories. They were a reminder of the love that had given him life, the love that still guided him. His parents may have been taken from him, but their spirit lived on in him, in every decision he made, in every step he took.

"Mother, Father," he whispered into the night, "I hope I am making you proud."

And with that, King Baelor I turned away from the window, ready to face the challenges of his reign, knowing that the strength and love of Aegon II and Vaella Targaryen were always with him.

#game of thrones #romance #dragons #fanfic #house of the dragon #viserys targaryen #daemon targaryen #alicent hightower #otto hightower #aemond targaryen #aegon x oc #aegon ii targaryen

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aristocratic-otter · 2 months

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Ok, I'm determined to post today, even though I'm way behind on responding to y'all's posts. I'll get to them, I promise! I'm about to return to work, and I'm far more productive on work days than I am on vacation (weird as that sounds). So I'll catch up soon.

This week may not have been the most productive, but it was amazing nonetheless. I got to meet Rainbow! and seven lovely fandom friends! It's been a wild weekend, just in time to have to go back to work :(

Here are six-ish sentences from some of my WIPs!

First, thank you to : @hushed-chorus, @wellbelesbian, @martsonmars, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @ic3-que3n, \

@thewholelemon, @artsyunderstudy, @bookish-bogwitch, @monbons, @rimeswithpurple,

@skeedelvee, @larkral, @noblecorgi, @roomwithanopenfire, @prettygoododds,

@whatevertheweather, @youarenevertooold, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @messofthejess, @blackberrysummerblog,

@nausikaaa, and @emeryhall for tagging me over the last few weeks!

Here’s one snippet from 5 of my WIPs. Cupid’s Shield and Stars, Flowers, and Children are both currently on extremely smutty parts, so there was nothing safe to share. (That probably sounds a little weird, given the most recent posted chapter in Stars has the boys at 12 years old, but don’t worry, the boys are 18+ in the chapter I’m working on, chapter 13) (chapter 10 of Stars should go up this week).

From Saving Simon Snow (also has a chapter that just needs editing and will probably go up this week) (why do I seem to finish chapters in all my WIPs at around the same time???):

“This is not what I—I don’t—Fuck!” He stops, and closes his eyes tightly, lifting his chin towards the ceiling.

“Simon, I—” I reach out to him. It’s a mistake. His eyes snap open, and their blue is electric. He puts up both hands as a block to mine and I snatch my hand back.

“No,” he says, then repeats it. “Nononononono—I can’t—” He’s tearing at his hair worse than before and I want to untangle his fingers from his curls and kiss his each digit to soothe him. But he doesn’t want me.

From Snow Fox:

I’d say the man across from me is a snake, but that wouldn’t be fair to serpents.

I dig my fingertips into the brocade of the armchair. Tarleton can’t see my hands beneath the folds of my dress, so I’ll allow myself that much of a reaction. My face, which he can see, is perfectly smooth and placid, like my mother’s. She’s sitting to the right of me in the other armchair from my parent’s sitting room. Tarleton has turned around one of the plain wood kitchen chairs and is sitting on it backwards with his arms folded over the wooden back of the chair. He’s smiling at us with all his teeth. And none of his eyes.

From TikTok Dancer:

This is not good.

I watch as Snow dips and spins, and I worry.

He told us that he wanted to dance alone today. I didn’t question it at the time…Snow has days like that, where the dance is everything and he needs the solitude to focus on nothing but dance. I think those are the days that he mourns what he’s lost. At least, his dance always seems a little sad, on those days. We still film him, of course. The work he does on those solo days is some of his most brilliant and gets the most hits and likes on YouTube and TikTok.

But this dance…it scares me.

From The Rat and the River (Chapter 2 just posted! Here’s a teaser from chapter 4)

I hope that the need for haste doesn’t make them careless. I suppose it hasn’t yet.

I try to stay as unobtrusive as I can while I watch the team prepare. I can feel the bite of worry in my gut. Snow’s done this dozens of times without the slightest problem, and I try to comfort myself with that, but my peripheral nervous system is not listening to me. My fingers feel cold and faint shivers pass over my skin in waves.

It’s minor enough that I can hide it, fortunately. I don’t need to put the burden of my fear on him.

And from my new project, untitled as yet, the following (forgive me…):

Penny

Simon looks like he’s seen a ghost. Well, I guess he has, actually, seen a ghost.

I know I speculated that Basilton might be dead, but I don’t think I actually believed it. There’s no denying it now, though. Basilton is quite clearly a visitor. I wonder who he’s here to visit? His cousin maybe? Or his best friend?

But no. The whole room watches in shocked silence as he paces unerringly towards my best friend.

Tags and zen hugs to: @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @bazzybelle, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed,

@frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @melodysmash, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist,

@mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @raenestee, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am,

@whogaveyoupermission, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @krisrix, @shemakesmeforget, @confused-bi-queer,

@nightimedreamersghost, @thewholelemon, @angelsfalling16, @mooncello, @shrekgogurt, @cosmicalart,

@cutestkilla, @theearlgreymage, @alexalexinii, @Iamamythologicalcreature, @ileadacharmedlife,

@thehoneyedhufflepuff, @best--dress, @j-nipper-95, @letraspal, and @facewithoutheart

#co/ws/awtwb #six sentence sunday #snowbaz #simon snow series #carry on through the ages #cotta 2023 #cobb 2024 #Baz is a visitor AU #american revolution au #Dancer!Simon au #epidemiologist!Simon and microbiologist!Baz au

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glassy-eyed-poet · 7 months

Text

Pick up lines for each of the pjo cabins (why am I posting this):

Cabin 1 - Are you a child of Zeus because I can feel a spark between us (insert insufferable winky face)

Cabin 2 - Are you a child of Hera because you are the only one I want to marry! (yes I KNOW she doesn't have any children just bear with me here)

Cabin 3 - Are you a child of Poseidon because I am literally drowning in your eyes 🔵👄🔵

Cabin 4 - Are you a child of Demeter because you're growing on me (if someone says this to you run 10 miles in the opposite direction instantly)

Cabin 5 - Are you a child of Ares because I'd start a war for you(idek)

Cabin 6 - Are you a child of Athena because you make me forget how to think! (oh my gods please no)

Cabin 7 - Are you a child of Apollo, because you light up my day (semi-acceptable)

Cabin 9 - Are you a child of Hephaestus, because you are smoking hot!!! (...what the actual fu-)

Cabin 10 - Are you a child of Aphrodite because you look just like your mom (This might be the worst one)

Cabin 11 - Are you a child of Hermes because you just stole my heart (oh that's very...)

Cabin 12 - Are you a child of Dionysus (yes I am), because you make me go insane (tbh I kind of like this one)

Cabin 13 - Are you a child of Hades because you are drop-dead gorgeous (literally kill me)

Cabin 14 - Are you a child of Iris because you colour my world! (It's serving dollar tree valentines cards)

Cabin 15 - Are you a child of Hypnos because I dream about us together (NO THANK YOU)

Cabin 16 - Are you a child of Nemesis because I'd get revenge for you (I genuinely couldn't think of anything else)

Cabin 17 - Are you a child of Nike because I think you won over my heart (kindly duct tape your mouth shut)

Cabin 18 - *plz give me suggestions for this one I can't think of any*

Cabin 19 - Are you a child of Tchye because I am fortunate to be around you (What in the tartar sauce)

Cabin 20 - Are you a child of Hecate because I can feel the magic baby! (please suggest better ones in the comments lmao)

#percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #percy jackon and the olympians #percyverse #riordanverse #pjo cabins #pick up lines #percy series #pjo #pjo fandom #rick riordan

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 9 months

Note

does GL have tea parties with Elise and the other children-? Is Mori forced to join the tea parties-? When Mori cant make it who is substituted in for him or do they just leave his spot open?

They do.

Elise, Kyuusaku, Aya, Katsumi, Shinji, Sakura, Yu and Kousuke are having tea parties from time to time. And they often offer GL and other BSD Characters to join them. So, if any of the adults want to join them, they always have an open spot.

Some interesting bits about some characters:

Who joins often:

1. Guiding Light - will tell kids stories from the real world.

2. Oda Sakunosuke - he can be so serious, it looks funny.

3. Ivan Goncharov - he will take tea preparations upon himself.

4. Mori Ougai - will let kids braid his hair or make pigtails.

5. Ranpo Edogawa - need constant supervision, so he won't eat all snacks.

6. Kouyou Ozaki - she is surprisingly good with kids.

7. Akiko Yosano - will insist on more healthier snacks, but, won't spoil the fun.

8. Bram Stoker - will join, only if Aya present. Actually, quite good caretaker.

9. Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald - he was a father, so, he knows, how to host a tea party for children.

10. Kenji Miyazawa - just likes to play with kids.

11. Kyouka Izumi - she is on a quiet side, but, will gladly join the tea party.

12. Karma - keep an eye on kids during tea parties.

13. Fyodor Dostoevsky - will join only if you present and if he wants tea. A little bit passive, but, will let kids hide under his coat.

14. Nikolai Gogol - will make a little circus show for kids.

15. Fukuzawa Yukichi and Fukuchi Ouchi - will be bombarded with questions about their past.

16. Dazai Osamu - perfect, if tea party have a role play element. Will be overdramatic, but kids adore him.

17. Atsushi Nakajima - likes to play with kids.

18. Tanizaki siblings - Junchirou will make snacks and use his ability to live things up. Naomi is good at having a small talk.

19. Kirako Haruno, Louisa May Alkott and Edgar Allan Poe - a little bit awkward around kids, but, not against joining the game.

20. Sigma - it was a surprise, but kids always listen to him. Mostly joins for cookies.

21. Flags - good with dealing with kids, especially teens.

22. Ryunosuke Akutagawa - sometimes, can be a good babysitter. Will make a hammock from Rashomon for kids' entertainment.

23. Gin Akutagawa - better, then her brother. Will bring good tea.

24. Chuuya Nakahara - will join, only if GL are here. Will make table and chairs float. Not that interested in game itself, but won't spoil the fun.

Who won't join as often as they can:

1. Doppo Kunikida and Nathaniel Hawthorne - will join only if they are looking after kids today and there's no other adults. Still, they are good at playing along.

2. Katai Tayama - he is not good with kids. But, he will find cartoons or films for kids to watch.

3. Paul Verlaine and Arthur Rimbaud - join even lesser, then Kunikida and Hawthorne. Don't think, that they are good with kids.

4. André Gide - doesn't think, that he deserves to join kids' game.

Who are forbidden to join:

1. Tetchou Suehiro - problem is in his eating habits. He did it a couple of times on a tea party and kids decided to copy him. Only Elise didn't get a stomach ache. Since then, Tetchou isn't allowed to join tea parties without supervision.

2. Alexander Pushkin - he is bad in controlling his tongue and will talk about something inappropriate. And we aren't talking about swearing. Pushkin might start talking about neighbors, and who were with whom. And kids are like sponges. When Sakura, after a tea party with Pushkin, start asking Oda and you, if your neighbor really doesn't know, who is the father of her children, and what clients she brings home, you two almost strangle Pushkin. He isn't allowed to interact with kids without supervision.

Who aren't allowed to join at the same time:

Karma, Fyodor and Guiding Light

Because, when Shinji invite you three, that happened:

Everyone: drinking tea

Shinji: talking to you I am so glad, that you three start spending time as family. Finally, you and Fyodor stop neglecting your son Karma.

You, Karma and Fyodor almost chocked on your teas. It takes five minutes for your three to start breathing normally.

Karma is scared and try to hide behind his tea cup.

Fyodor never looked that shocked before. He is looking at Shinji, but can't form a single word.

You were just trying to say something.

You: "Wh... Who? Us... Our? Whom?... Wh... What..? Karma? Ours..?"

Shinji: didn't realize, that situation became this Yes! You wanted to save Karma, and Fyodor did it. You two saved him. Like Oda saved us. So, he is yours now.

Tea party come to an end. Karma couldn't look at you or Fyodor for a week.

Osamu and Nikolai, who, somehow, learn about this situation, were teasing you and Fyodor about, who will be 'stay at home parent' and who will be a 'breadwinner' for the two weeks.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au

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beanghostprincess · 8 months

Note

Roger really DOES have mad girldad energy and I am feral.

Welcome to my walls btw, it's hot af in Florida, so lmk if you need a popsicle/hj

Just. Omfg imagine Toki and Buggy bonding SO MUCH and Toki is the one who helps Buggy find Her Style and Her Confidence. Oden also has Big Himbo Dad Emergy too, so I bet he'd just be like ":000 a GIRL! WONDERFUL!!! I shall have TWO daughters!"

Roger ofc takes big offense to that and it becomes a shipwide brawl over who gets to be her dad, and Buggy is just laughing, crying, pickpocketing everyone. Only like. Three fellas even have the driving NEED to call her their daughter, they just love the chaos. Shanks is just left GAPING bc ofc he loves Buggy, he always has, always will, but the way she was smiling, the way she's just beaming at the acceptance, no matter how dramatic it is - by Davy Jones, it steals his breath away.

Whatever you do tho, don't imagine Toki dressing Buggy up in traditional Wano attire. Don't imagine Toki taking on the role of aunt or big sister and sharing this culture with Buggy. Teaching her the ways of warriors from her homeland, the codes and dress and recipes. Don't imagine Toki telling Buggy "family secrets" like recipes, fighting styles, etc. Don't imagine Toki just easily saying that of course Buggy needs to know these things! Blood is but the fluid of life, and love is what makes a family - and Buggy has so much love to give, so much to receive, and Toki calls her a child of Wano in heart and soul, in all the ways that matter should Buggy want that.

And Buggy, who has only ever wanted to BELONG, oh she accepts without hesitation.

Leaving Toki behind was hard, but she gifts Buggy an heirloom of sorts, a hair piece that she keeps either tucked under her beanie or safe in a chest, anchored to the floor of her room ((or hidden carefully with Devil Fruit powers)).

The day Toki manages to make/get a suitably sized kimono for Buggy, maybe for a party on the ship, maybe a birthday celebration ((and here I insert my Wano Culture Headcanons, that there's a birthday where children transition to young adults, and it's similar to a quinceñera but different, partially because it's done at 13, and then a second one at 18, a five year period of growth, life compared to butterflies, and so Toki convinces the crew to do these for the Cabin Kids-))

Buggy comes out, hair done, kimono flawless and bright and bold and so very her, a quiet joy on her face, and the crew is FLABBERGASTED.

Roger is sobbing.

Rayleigh has suddenly aged 20 years because oh shit oh gods she's going to be beautiful as an adult, oh damn it all he's gonna have to beat men off of her-

Shanks is caught between swooning, wanting to tackle her, and remembering just how the heck breathing works.

((Roger, Rayleigh, Crocus and Oden do rock paper scissors to get the first dance with her, and it dissolves into a fist fight somehow. Shanks gets involved and bites them. Toki takes the first dance.))

I have. So many emotions about transfem Buggy, bestie, send help it's all my brain can think about.

It's okay, I miss hot weather because here in Spain I am freezing and I am a spring child. My spiritual flower is a sunflower. I need the SUN. I NEED TO GO INTO THE FLAMES. So I'll stay there happily.

Please, Toki would so adopt Buggy. And Oden would be THRILLED. He'll see them getting along and he'd instantly say they look like mother and daughter. Buggy would be shy about it but Toki would probably laugh and say "Oh! Do we really? What do you think, Bugs?" and it's just,, So sweet,, Oden loves her a lot and he can't wait to see his Hiyori grow up too. Roger would be FURIOUS when he hears that because he "found her first" which, you know, true, but it's a weird way of saying that's his daughter. Anyway- Rayleigh would be so fucking done with everything. They'd fight about it and Buggy would actually have the time of her life because she feels important and flashy for once in a long time, and she'd laugh oh so beautifully at them when talking with Shanks about it in their room. Like she'd just laugh at the situation and Shanks is still not getting used to his very very not platonic feelings for his best friend. But he'd enjoy his time with her. He's just going a bit insane.

I can't stop thinking now about Buggy finally finding a place to belong. She's been lost for so long,, Feeling left out. And now Toki has gifted her with the most precious treasure there is: A home. Belonging. And I am so so emotional right now. Toki would be so proud of her and Buggy would just be so thankful. If Buggy called her 'mom' at some point, she'd feel embarrassed right away, but Toki would probably fight the tears and hug her close. Going crazy, really. All the men in Buggy's life fighting for her first dance,, Rayleigh just knows he'll have to fight all the men that hurt his precious star. And Shanks is starting to think about that too and the thought of Buggy dating somebody else makes him sick, so perhaps he needs to start with a plan to confess finally (he's so asking Toki about it. I'm gonna cry). Roger crying because he wants to enjoy every second he has left with her... It kills me.

I just know that to this day, Buggy still thinks about Toki as her mom. She never mentions it to anybody, but she feels such a strong connection to Wano and she's dying to go there finally someday. She might have not been born there, but her soul belongs there. And it's just so sweet. I am sobbing, thank you. Every time she does her hair, she feels Toki's hands instead of hers and she remembers everything she taught her,,,

Now I have on my mind a very silly Shuggy thought about Shanks trying to flirt with Buggy but failing miserably (because he's a kid and he only knows how to tease her or follow Roger's advice which are, um, not good) and Buggy just being so done and exhausted. She can't stand him! He's so annoying! Sometimes she doesn't know if she wants to punch him or kiss him! And she doesn't even know if Shanks likes her back because he keeps acting stupid. And she goes to Toki for advice and she's like "oh, darling... Men are stupid. Do you know why you felt smarter than them when you were unaware of being a girl? Well, one of the reasons is that Shanks is a kid. He's dumb. But he loves you and cares so much for you... He's just having a hard time trying to make his way to your heart" / "But he-! He's so damn- Ugh. He's such an idiot. He already did, and he just doesn't know because he can't see it and I can't stand him-" / "Well, maybe you should be the one telling him, huh?" / "What?! No! And give him the satisfaction of thinking I fell first?! I'd rather die. No. He has to make the first move". And now Toki is involved (like the rest of the crew because Shuggy is a whole teen drama) in their love story because Buggy keeps complaining about men being stupid and Shanks keeps saying he doesn't get how Buggy can't see he's in love with her.

#i think we're soulmates anon you always write exactly what i'm thinking :((#this is just so beautiful i am sobbing and now i want to write countless fics about this #god i swear this whole thing made my day #thank you so much for your asks really <333 #fem buggy lives in my mind rent free forever i love her so much she's so important to me #one piece #buggy the clown #fem buggy #kozuki toki #roger pirates #red haired shanks #shuggy

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wardenparker · 1 year

Text

The Viper's Bride - ch 15

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: Mature, but as always this blog is 18+ Word Count: 11.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid. This is a MMFFF polycule, folx. Get on board or don't click to keep reading. Pregnancy!* Talk of previous grievances, incest reference (Lannisters gonna Lannister), blink and you'll miss it mention of homelessness. As always, there is sexy talk. It is Oberyn, after all. Summary: The day before Oberyn is to represent Tyrion in the Trial by Combat, your extended and elaborate family comes together to celebrate in anticipation of the fight. Notes: First up, I'm working extra shifts and even though it's my dream job I'm tired y'all 😂 so sorry for any errors I missed. But also! We're almost at the end here, folx! We'll have one more chapter after this and then the epilogue. Thank you all so much for sticking around to watch this polycule grow!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14

It is three days before the Mountain arrives in King’s Landing. The Trial by Combat had been announced throughout the capital on the day it was agreed and the days since had been dedicated to the building of a great arena for the event. Every noble in the keep thought of it as no more than sport — every noble except the members of your party and Tyrion Lannister himself, who all had far more at stake. For the group of you, the days of anticipation have been agony.

“They are simply playing a game.” Oberyn hisses, standing in nothing but his breeches as he sharpens the spear he wishes to take into the ring. He’s already discarded several, broken in training, though he is now resting until the time where he faces Gregor. “Wishing to gain the upper hand by delaying, thinking I will become impatient.” He scoffs. “As if I have not waited years for this.”

“They have no idea of your true determination, lover.” Ellaria has seen so many shades and versions of this need for revenge that no part of it could surprise her anymore. She knows it could have been the singular focus that drive him mad, and that it is oddly fortunate that he escaped that fate.

“They do not know me or the Dornish need for justice.” He muses grimly. “They will discover it, publicly.”

“And then we will be rid of this place.” You have Margaery’s hand in yours as the two of you sit on the nearby chaise together, and you squeeze it gently in your fingers. It has only been a few days but the news of her marriage to the new Dornish lord had caused an outpouring of sentiment against her family and her specifically. Thankfully, Olenna Tyrell seemed more amused by it than anything and promised her granddaughter that they would all forget when the next scandal broke.

“I am looking forward to seeing Dorne.” She admits as she glances over to where Raeden is sprawled with Ellaria on another chaise. “I have heard about it and wish to marvel at its bright beauty myself. Especially the Water Gardens.”

“You could have your honeymoon there,” Ellaria suggests, leaning over to kiss Raeden and glad to talk about something other than tomorrow’s fight. “Locked up in your rooms fucking to your heart’s content until you are full of your lord’s babe, and then you can rest in the Gardens for all your pregnancy.”

“Perhaps I can also sample the prince’s cock once I am carrying Raeden’s heir.” She wears a small smirk as she greedily watches the lean lines of the older man. She’s sucked his cock, several times, but like Raeden with you, he would not risk her husband’s true heir being called into question.

“I would very much like to watch that,” you hum, turning your head to nip at her neck and pulling the younger woman into your lap. The two of you have become much closer in just a few days, much to the delight of your husbands.

“I will be very eager to sample your cunt.” Oberyn chuckles, looking up from his spear. “Although tonight.” He grunts, his eyes dark and lusty when he looks at Raeden. “I want to have your husband tonight.”

The statement hangs in the air between all of you, and Raeden is the first to nod. “You will. You will have me.”

It has been a long time coming, Margaery knows this, even with as short a time as she has been tangled in this group. Not once has she felt slighted because she does not bear any marks on her skin from the four of you. “It will be a night to celebrate.” She decides. “In anticipation of your victory.”

“You will witness true victory tomorrow.” Ellaria agrees, fire in her eyes as she gazes up at Oberyn. “They all will.”

He’s sure of himself, almost to the point of brashness, but he has also commanded his own company with the Second Sons. Survived the fighting pits and his reputation was well earned. Still, he is grateful for the support of his soulmates and his lovers. “Yes they will.”

“We should feast tonight.” The idea had formed in your mind yesterday and lingered, something that you have learned to pay attention to. The idea that it could – however unlikely he seems to think the possibility – be your last night with your husband makes you want to sob like you have just heard the news that he would be champion all over again.

Oberyn turns towards you, watching you for a moment before he nods. “Get dressed, Princess.” He decides. “You and I will go to the market and order our feast.”

There is no reason to point out that Cal or Leyth could easily see the Dornishman in the market. Everyone here knows that. But he wants to spend time with you, and you want more than anything to hold his arm while you walk and pretend it is simply a normal day. “I will only take a few minutes,” you promise him, pulling yourself up off the chaise and away from a reluctant-to-let-go Margaery.

“Take your time.” He smirks. “Wear something beautiful.” He wants you to be seen, wants to be seen with you. Firmly believing appearances can affect the memory of the day.

“I have just the thing.” Enough weeks had passed in the Capitol that you had been able to order gowns from a dressmaker with knowledge of Dornish fashion, and you had intended to save it for your arrival in your new home, but this seems far more important. You disappear into the next room to extract it from your trunk with a smile. Oberyn will be quite surprised.

Oberyn sets the spear down and walks over to the table that has a bowl of clean water with soap and cloths next to it. As much sex as everyone has been indulging in, it had seemed prudent to keep the water on hand. He starts to bathe his chest, sweaty from the day and wishing to freshen up while he waits.

The group of you have all packed. Determined to leave King’s Landing in just two days’ time, most things have been put away for the journey. What is left to amuse yourselves with is sex, books from the keep’s library — and usually more sex. The difference is only when Oberyn and Raeden are in the practice ring, but when they return they are usually ravenous for company.

It takes little more than ten minutes for you to emerge from the chamber in the gown that you had carefully selected the colors and fabrics of weeks earlier — gold trim making the colors of fire seem to dance with every step you take. The sheer outer layer sparkles and shines, and the layer underneath flows while still showing off your figure. It preserves that feeling of modesty that you are accustomed to with significantly less fabric and a form unmistakably Dornish flare. Even your slippers are more like the ones Ellaria wears each day, leather platforms tying halfway up your calves with amber lacing. “Are you ready, my prince?”

“Star.” Oberyn’s eyes widen and he groans as he takes in your appearance. “I will have to wear my sword so no one could try to steal you from me.” He hums, cock twitching in his breeches. “The seamstress who made this for you deserves every coin you paid her and then a hefty sum.”

"There are others," you promise him, glad to see the light in his eyes even over something as simple as a dress. "I gave her double her fee when I saw how fine the work was. Do you...do you truly like it? I know you have said many times that you wished I wore more Dornish style gowns."

“If I could show you now how much I like it, we would not feast tonight.” He growls, fingers tracing over your bare shoulder and sighing softly at your softness.

"You will show me later." Later, when he has all of you at his beck and call for whatever it is he might desire. But for now you take his hand and kiss his palm tenderly. "Let us go and walk. We will show the capitol that Dorne is not afraid."

“That’s my girl.” He curls his arm up and wraps your hand around it, looking at Margaery, Raeden and Ellaria. “We will be back. And I will want all of us in bed. So make sure you do not tire yourselves out.” He chuckles.

"I swear it," Ellaria chuckles, with one hand over her heart. "I will teach our newlyweds about edging if they need attention."

Margaery tilts her head curiously and smirks at Ellaria. “What is that?” She asks innocently.

The chuckle turns to a throaty, pleased laugh, and Ellaria sits up to kiss Oberyn before bringing Margaery into her arms. "Go and enjoy yourself, lover," she tells him with a lascivious grin. "We will be well occupied here."

“Come, Star.” Oberyn smiles as he guides you out of the chambers and immediately runs into one of Cersei’s servants. “Splendid.” He hums, leaning into the girl. “More water is needed.” He tells her. “There will be an orgy in these rooms tonight.”

She looks positively affronted by the notion but nods nervously, scurrying away as fast as her feet will carry her. "I suppose it does not matter that Cal could easily have fetched our water?" You ask, raising one eyebrow at him as you continue down the hallway. "You would far rather that it get back to Cersei's ears."

“Absolutely.” He chuckles and starts the slow, unconcerned stroll with you towards the front doors of the Keep. “She will either stay far away or have to come interrupt. Either way, I will now that she is wondering who is in the chambers moaning.”

"Whomever we want to be." A few months into your arrangement - and your marriage - it is safe to say that you are far more comfortable with yourself and with sex than ever before. "And that bothers her, too."

“I would like Cal and Leyth with us tonight, my love.” He ventures, patting your hand. “Do you have any objections? Only if they wish to join.” He won’t force them to, of course. He wouldn’t do that, but he wants to touch them again and tonight seems to be a fine night to do so.

"No objections at all." He could ask you for the moon and you would only tell him that you need to find a ladder tall enough. "They have missed being invited to your bed."

“As long as you are comfortable with it.” There has been plenty to keep him occupied and satisfied throughout the last weeks, especially discovering the relationship with you, so he had not ventured to invite anyone else.

“My love,” you squeeze his arm gently under your hand as you walk together. “There is very little you could ask for tonight that I would hesitate to grant you. I hope you understand that.”

Exiting the keep, Oberyn is quiet for a little while, thinking of what he wishes to say. It is only when the crowds begin to gather, farther away from the castle does he begin. “My love,” he sighs softly. “I have sent word to my brother.” He tells you. “Informing him of our valid marriage and my expectant heir.”

“That is good.” Once, he had thought to breeze into Sunspear and amuse himself with informing Doran of what was technically your elopement. The fact that he has done otherwise is sobering, but somehow comforting in its realism. “I am sure he will be very glad of the news when it arrives, considering how upset you were when you left Dorne.”

“Word would have already reached him.” He tells you quietly. “I sent a raven the day I took on being Tyrion’s champion.” He admits, looking past the merchants stalls as they come into view towards the harbor. “I also made sure that Raeden’s house is secure. My brother would do right by him.”

“Thank you, my love. I know it means the world to him.” It sounds as though Oberyn has been getting his affairs in order, and the implications of that make your shoulders tighten and your limbs feel heavy as you walk together. Tomorrow he will fight to the death to honor and revenge this sister, and the terrifying truth is that he could be the one to lose. As cocky - and as talented a fighter - as he is, Oberyn is not a stupid man. “Should the need come, I will make sure your Sand Snakes are as well cared for as you could ever wish. Ellaria and I will not let them want for anything.”

“I will be there to see them.” Oberyn promises. “However.” He slides his arm down to take your hand in his and bring it up to his lips. “Every Dornish lord here, all their men, will see you safely from the city.” He promises. After he had accepted the role, he had gone to see them, without Raeden so he could speak frankly to them. He wanted to make sure the other lords would wholly accept your lover as Lord Sunstone. They were happy to have a new lord amongst the ranks, especially one who chose Dorne. “You need not fear any abuse.”

“I do not.” And that, thankfully, you can count on the truth. The lords of Dorne had been surprised by your sudden appearance in Oberyn’s life but accepted you fully. “And I know that you will do everything in your power to come home with us. I do not doubt that even for a moment.” You do not doubt it, but you have learned a healthy fear of the unknown.

“I will.” He agrees, squeezing your hand and smirking at you. “Let is plan this feast. I wish to make sure that we have a night to remember.”

“It would be impossible to forget a night with you.” As sentimental a thing as it is to say, you truly do mean it. Oberyn has changed so much about your life and all of it has been for the better — how could you forget even a moment of that?

“I wanted to tell you this privately.” He admits quietly. “I know that you are scared and I will win, but I thought it would making you feel better. In case the worst happens.”

“I am scared.” There is no use denying that and you would not be cruel enough to disrespect him like that. “But only because I know that life is unpredictable. And I am grateful that you are open with me. That you understand it is not that I do not believe in you. Because that is the furthest from the truth.”

“All men must have some fear.” Oberyn admits quietly. “Do not have fear is to not wish to live. And then you have already died.” He watches the people that move past the two of you and hums. “The true test of a man is conquering that fear and not letting it turn him into a coward. Using the fear for his own purposes.”

“I will have to remember that.” In the meantime, because the fear you have is for him, you lace your fingers together tightly as you walk. “May I ask you something, love?”

“Anything.” He insists. “You know that, my love. I will hide nothing from you.”

“You may object to the request and I would understand that.” He nods when your eyes meet his and you return the gesture, biting your lip slightly. “I—it is only that…I cannot stop thinking of the baby.” So much so that your hand has been unconsciously resting on the side of your still unchanged belly as you walk. “If anything were to happen to you tomorrow…I wondered if we might be able to choose a name? You should know your ninth daughter’s name, if the worst happens.”

“I think we should also pick out a son’s name.” Oberyn grunts, even though he is smiling. “For the boy the babe might be.”

“I think if I were to bear you a son, no one would believe he was yours,” you half-joke, glad that Oberyn is humoring your anxieties and making the topic sweet instead of calling out your nerves.

“They will when he looks just like me and fights at the first insult to his mother.” He predicts with a proud grin.

“Perhaps that would be enough.” You smile at the thought, though it is a thin thing. Somehow in your heart you know that carrying another of his daughters is more likely than anything. Still, it is best to be prepared. “But you would not have him named for you.”

“I believe the boy needs to forge his own reputation, not live in the shadow of mine.” Names have meaning in this time, and he would not saddle his son with his. Giving him freedom to be whomever he chose to be. “That is why I would not name a son after me.”

“Then you would not want to name him after any family? Our only after you?” The logic does make sense to you, and you nod as you walk. The marketplace is open and though people may stare you have learned to pay them no mind.

“Only after myself.” He pauses and turns towards you. “But I forbid you naming the child after your bitch of a mother.” He warns, not wishing the revisiting the past every time you looks upon a girl with that name.

“I would rather name her after my father’s soulmate that I never even met then name her after the woman who abused me,” you agree, shaking your head sadly.

“Apologies, my love.” Oberyn leans in to kiss your lips softly. “Forget I mentioned it.”

“Mentioned what?” Willing yourself to simply forget the mention of her and move on, you offer Oberyn a bright smile and steal another kiss. “I believe we were choosing names for a son?”

“Do you have any ideas?” He asks curiously. Wondering if you had imagined the names of your children before now.

"I used to tease Antony that I would name my son for him any time he did me a small favor." The sweet, nostalgic memory of an older brother doting on his younger sister brings a bittersweet smile to your face. As much as you might have told your brothers that they drove you crazy, you miss them desperately. "Anytime he did something as little as bringing me a pencil to write with, I would dramatically declare that I would honor him with naming my son Antony. It was...just a silly thing. But I suppose I never thought of anything beyond that."

“Would you wish to use that name or a piece of it?” He asks, smiling softly at the image of a young girl promising her older brother to name her son after him.

"Antony is a good name." Strong but not harsh, you had always thought it a very nice name aside from all the of the teasing. "And...Antonia is lovely, as well?"

“Naming our daughter after your brother?” He barks out a laugh even as he seriously thinks about it. “I like it.” He admits. “Antonia Martell.” He shrugs. “Rolls off the tongue better than my thought towards a name.”

"What was yours?" He has named eight daughters already, you cannot discount any ideas he might have with so much practice behind him.

“Marella.” He shrugs slightly, unconcerned. He will name the babe whatever makes you happy and be proud of it.

"Oh, that's lovely." Rolling it over in your mind though, you frown a moment later. "Although Marella Martell would be quite the tongue twister."

“Technically, she would be Princess Marella of Dorne, when people address her.” He teases. “But Antonia is much nicer.”

"I wish she was here already." It feels like a ridiculous thing to lament, but you wish it so that he could hold her. Because the fear that Oberyn might never meet his next child is creeping up your neck as if it were high tide on the rocks.

“She will come when she is ready.” Even if he teases you about giving him a male heir, he feels like you are carrying a girl. “Squawking and screaming as she shakes her fist at the world.”

You squeeze his hand again as you swallow your fears, and turn into the marketplace with him. “She will be so adored.”

“By so many.” He agrees, sighing softly. “I cannot wait to show you Dorne.”

“I hope you will show me everything.” In the weeks and months since your marriage, you have become more and more eager to see your new home. “Every time Ellaria speaks of the Water Gardens, I ache to see them.”

“We will swim in the gardens naked.” He tells you with a grin. “After the children are asleep.”

“I see you already have plans for conceiving your tenth child,” you tease, knowing he means sooner than that.

“Perhaps.” He chuckles and reaches over to rub your stomach. “I do not think we will stop at one child.”

“I certainly will not stop sharing your bed.” You could be more vulgar, but you are in public.

“It would be a dour day when you decided to stop sleeping in my bed.” He grunts. He does not think that would ever happen, despite originally thinking you would never share his bed.

“Dour would be correct,” you hum with equal dislike for the idea. “The only way it would happen would be very sad circumstances.” Very sad as in one of your deaths, and you are reminded again what tomorrow morning will bring.

“Do not think on it.” He can tell you are worrying about tomorrow again. He cannot give you more guarantees than he already has, and he will not insult you by demanding you not worry.

"I will try." Strolling together a little further, the stall where the Dornishman you have come to know as Salin sells his prepared foods is swarming with people. Since word had gotten out that Prince Oberyn enjoyed his recipes, he had been receiving more and more business.

“Salin.” Oberyn greets the man warmly, like he would any of his countrymen. “How does your day fare?”

"Very well, my prince and princess." Salin has come to recognize the sight of all of Oberyn's household, and always welcomes all of you with open arms. Today, he reaches for a fried pastry full of chopped roasted nuts, honey, and sweet dates and offers it to you. "I have heard a rumour, your Graces," he admits, smiling broadly when you accept the pastry with glee. "That you are to be congratulated?"

The prince huffs, even as he grins proudly. “Which one of them told you?” He asks, sure that Ellaria would have mentioned it since you were craving dates lately.

"I was not sworn to secrecy, so I do not fear telling you that it was your lovely paramour." He smiles even more broadly and puts one hand over his heart. "I would like to offer, if it pleases you, to send the recipe for my date cake with you when you return to Sunspear. Your cook will have no trouble recreating it, and I was told the princess enjoyed it very much."

“I would be very grateful for it.” Oberyn nods and tilts his head towards the man. “If you ever wish to come back to Dorne, I will give you a place in the palace to cook for our house.”

"You are..." Salin swallows thickly, looking between the two of you. "Your Grace is most generous." His voice wavers and his other hand comes up to his heart. "I left my mother and siblings there when I came to King's Landing and...until your patronage...did not have the money for passage to go home again."

Oberyn frowns, hating King’s Landing as much as the next Dornishman and looks towards you. “We are leaving King’s Landing. After the tournament.” He informs the merchant who has provided so many meals for his lovers and his wife. “The ship will be crowded, but I am sure we can find room for you if you wish to sail home?” He asks.

"I do." He murmurs, expression still aghast. "I wish to return home more than anything." The man looks as though he could cry, and something inside of you cracks a little, making your reach out to gently squeeze his arm in reassurance. "We had come to ask you to prepare us one last feast, but this is far better. We are happy to have you return with us."

“I-- I will prepare you the feast that would put all feasts to shame.” He agrees quickly. If he is leaving, he will need to deplete his stores. “And if your offer is genuine, I would be honored to prepare meals on the ship for your family.”

You do not even need to look over at Oberyn to know that the offer was real, but still your eyes find your husband's profile and you nod to Salin with a smile. "We will be the ones who are honoured, Salin. And thank you for this," you hold up the pastry, which you have already tried a bite of and will have demolished the sweet treat in less than another minute. "Truly, your talent is unparalleled. You either had a remarkable teacher or your talents are a gift from the gods."

“My mother.” He informs you proudly. “She runs a small tavern in Sunspear.” He beams and nods towards your pastry. “Although that is something special. It is a treat that she had made for her soulmate.” He frowns slightly but recovers to smile at the both of you.

"He had very good taste." The shadow that falls over his face does not escape you, but you do not feel your have the right to press. Instead you simply add, "And must have been a very lucky man."

“Perhaps.” That is all he will say about the man he has never met, although he looks back at the pair of you expectantly. “Do you wish me to just send whatever I make or is there something special you wish to have?” He’s not unaware that Oberyn will be in the tournament tomorrow, that he could possibly die. So tonight is a celebration feast in preparation for his victory.

"The prince favours your spicy lamb, but everything else is up to you. Whatever you feel your finest or favourite dishes are to prepare. And there are seven of us, so be generous." Everything he makes is delicious, so you have no doubt that it will all be wonderful.

Bobbling his head eagerly, Salin immediately starts to think about what he can send to the Keep. “I will have it prepared. Is there a time you will need it?”

"No sooner than usual," you assure him, knowing that your intention to eat and spend the rest of the night indulging in pleasure is shared by everyone in your small household.

“I will deliver it myself.” He promises, shaking his head when Oberyn pulls out his coin purse. “No, please. It would be my pleasure.”

"We would be remiss in offering you a place in our household and then not paying you for that talent of yours we so appreciate." The shake of your head matches his and you reach out to touch his arm again. "Please. Allow us to show you the respect you deserve."

“You are kind and gracious.” His lip trembles slightly. “My mother will be very grateful to have her oldest son back.”

Nearer now to being a mother than you ever have been before in your life, you already cannot imagine what separating from your oldest child would be like, other than being positively devastating. '"Whatever brought you to King's Landing, I hope that it was worth the trip, and that returning home will bring you just as much joy."

“My trip was in vain but I learned a valuable lesson.” He promises. “The return trip home will be much sweeter, although your patronage has made my little stand a success.”

"Perhaps the gods have given you something just as valuable that you have not yet realized." Wishing not to leave the man feeling poorly about anything at all - if you can help it - you find yourself wishing it was as easy as offering to spend time with him. To listen to his story. To find out what had happened and see if there is some way you can help. But again, you remind yourself not to force the situation. You are already giving him a way to return to his family, and that seems to be a help in its own right.

Salin nods and smiles at the Princess of Dorne and her husband. “The gods gave surely shined down in my humble soul.” He acknowledges before handing you another pastry. “For your walk, your highness.”

“You are very generous, my friend. Thank you.” With a nod of your head, you and Oberyn continue walking, leaving Salin to his work. There is much to be done before tonight, apparently, because he disappears into the back of his stall immediately. “He seems to be very glad to go home again.”

“Is there anywhere else you wish to go?” Oberyn asks you indulgently. The dress you are wearing is fine and causing many heads to turn, making him grip your hand proudly as you continue towards the water.

“I would visit every seller here just to prolong our walk,” you admit, nibbling at the treat that Salin handed you as you walk hand in hand with Oberyn. “Perhaps we could visit our smith friend once more before we leave?” An amused smile forms on your lips when his eyes slip past your face to your chest. “Or would you like to also offer passage to my dressmaker, since you seem so fond of her work?”

He snorts, and sends you an amused smirk. “If I could cart all the talented workers away from King’s Landing as a strike against the Lannisters. I would.” He jokes. “But perhaps we should see what other baubles we can purchase for amusement.”

“I know one that would amuse both you and Raeden.” You hum, making yourself walk by the bookseller’s stall without stopping. If you do, you might simply stay there the whole day. “I wonder if the goldsmith might have another necklace of thin chains for Margaery to match with myself and Ellaria.”

Oberyn grunts, his cock twitching and he hums in agreement. “It would be a very pleasant view, three gorgeous women, completely naked except for the chains around their necks.”

“It would be lovely to see.” You and Margaery seem to be the only ones who were surprised by how close you have become and how quickly, and your may or may not be looking forward to the sight yourself.

“Perhaps there is another bauble we can find for the three of you to wear tomorrow.” Oberyn muses. “I wish to see all three of you in very revealing dress. You will be on the sidelines.”

"We will wear anything you choose, love." It is very literally the least that the three of you can do, and you know that although you will all - Raeden included - be worried, you will be a united front of pride for Dorne.

“Good.” While there will be some who do not care what the lovers of Oberyn wear, just the three- four- of you being there will be an insult to the people who matter most in the private portion of this skirmish. Until he brings all their sins to the light for the Seven Kingdoms to see.

"It will be no small statement to have Margaery beside us. For the four of us to appear united in appearance as well?" It is an incredibly simple yet effective means of making your delegation seem all the more powerful, and you know that every small tactic counts. "It will disarm some of those in the capital who foolishly think Dorne to be less civilized."

“Exactly.” He is always pleased with you when you know why he is doing something. The cleverness of your minds makes him think that you would have been named your father’s heir of you had been born a man.

"Would you have us matching?" You ask him, thinking that that would take some effort to achieve by the morning. "Or wearing an emblem somehow?"

“Perhaps we will find something. If not, then there are…dresses in my trunk you could wear.” He admits with a small chuckle.

"There are more dresses in your trunks?" By this time you would have assumed that Ellaria had wore every stitch of clothing brought from Dorne to the northern capital, but apparently that assumption would be incorrect.

“If you wish to call them dresses.” He smirks. “There is more skin showing than fabric.”

"If only my belly were already swollen," you smirk up at him as you slow in your walk and come to a stop at the jeweler's stall. "That would be quite a sight to be shown off."

“One I will love to see when it happens. Especially since the dress will show off your belly.” Oberyn’s eyes narrow as he takes in the jewels on display.

"Your Graces." The man bows deeply to see you approach, the sight of the two of you together being most welcome to him. He knows it will end in a large purchase, if nothing else, and others had taken notice of the Dornish prince's patronage of his business. It had brought him enormous good fortune in the months since your first visit. "What is it you search for today?"

“Another necklace.” Oberyn informs him with a smirk. “Just like the one for my wife and my paramour. I wish to clasp it around our other lover’s neck.”

"I confess, I wondered if you might desire another." Disappearing from view for just a few seconds, the merchant comes back again with a small wooden box. He lifts the lid, showing off another glinting necklace of delicate chains. "Your reputation, after all, precedes you."

“Do you have a smaller version of this?” Oberyn asks as he traces the necklace with his fingers. “More…masculine?”

"Smaller as in…fewer strands?" The man's head tilts to one side, making sure he understands correctly.

“Fewer strands, more…” he turns to you with a frown. “I want one for Raeden.” He tells you.

"I assumed as much, when you wanted one more masculine." The expression on his face is half frustration and half plaintive, and you cup his cheek in your hand lovingly. "Do you want it to be worn under his robes tomorrow, or do you want it to be worn in bed, my love?"

“Both.” He grunts, looking at you with dark, lust filled eyes. “But I want him to wear it tomorrow. Showing on his bare chest to match your. United and under House Martell’s protection.”

"The prince desires another necklace with fewer, thicker chains," you inform the jeweler, squeezing Oberyn's hands in yours and pressing a kiss to his lips. "And it should be made to accommodate a broader chest."

The jeweler has questions but he keeps them to himself. Although the design might be on display after the custom jewelry is sold and discreetly mentioned that the Prince of Dorne bought for a male lover. It might be of interest to the right discreet party.

“It will be needed by tonight.” Neither you nor Oberyn would be willing to wait until morning and risk not having it be ready, but you are certain that Oberyn will want Raeden to wear the chains tonight, as well.

“Of course.” He knows now that the prince will not blink at the cost so he does not even warn him about the extra price for expedited work. The prince is a man who wants what he wants when he wants it with no regard to cost.

“What other new baubles have you? Any of your clever wife’s designs?” The puzzle ring that you gave to Oberyn is a favorite, and your eyes start to search through the trays of fine pieces right away.

“There is a wide selection.” He agrees eagerly, rushing over to show them to you. “Your interest and admiration has made her designs improve and her love of it increase.”

“I am very glad to hear it.” Oberyn has begun searching a different part of the stall, and you follows the merchant’s lead to look at the designs that his wife has made. “What is the piece she is most proud of? I wish to see it.”

“There is a bracelet design that my wife is very pleased with.” The latest designed may have been with a slight Dornish flair due to the Prince’s patronage. The bracelets have several bangles wove in between each other and can be pulled apart, but when they are in a solid mass, they give the illusion of being one solid piece, the bursting sun of Dorne etched into the gold.

“Oh, she is clever!” You hum happily when the merchant presents you with the multi-strand bracelet. “And your craftsmanship is exquisite, ser. It seems that no matter you you make, you and your wife are quite the formidable team.”

Delighted that you like it, he moves to grab the other ones. "I took the liberty of making several." He informs you. "Because I know that your group likes to have matching sets."

“We certainly do.” The stone in the middle of each Dornish sun is the only difference between the bracelets - one deep green, one pink-red, one orange, one yellow, one milky white, one rich blue, and one clear purple. They are stunning together and you beckon Oberyn closer to look. “There are seven, my love.” Your face shines with delight.

"Why seven?" Oberyn asks curiously. He could see if there were eight, for his daughters or two because of his last order of necklaces.

“You, Raeden, and Cal.” You have three bracelets beside your right hand, and then beside your left you point out the other four. “Ellaria, me, Margaery, and Leyth.”

"No, my love." He grunts. "I was asking the jeweler why he crafted seven bracelets."

The jeweler in question blushes, clearing his throat at the prince’s pointed attention. He was not going to call attention to the number after you seemed so delighted with the fact that there were seven. “In truth, your Grace?” He would shove his hands in his pockets in embarrassment if he had any. “There are three or four more being finished just this day. I thought to have a wide collection of colors for your Graces to choose from, that is all.”

"I will take them all." Oberyn decides, looking back at you to find you smiling down at the bracelet with a dreamy expression on your face. "What do you think, my love? For any others we might bring into our fold?" He hums. "Or perhaps..." He slides his hand around your waist and your stomach. "Perhaps as gifts for our children."

“They seem fitting for your girls, don’t you think?” If there are so many, that is. The idea of more cannot be banished from your mind. You must remember that Oberyn has a plan. “Hopefully they all have different favourite colors.”

The mention of ‘his girls’ makes Oberyn’s head snap back to the jeweler. “These bracelets.” He tells him. “I want eight more. Except instead of bursting suns, I want snakes. Coiled snakes with the different colored jewel in the eye.”

“It…is too much to do in one night.” The jeweler tells him with obvious regret and just a touch of fear. “Perhaps it could be done in two if everyone worked through the night…but I know that you are not one to wait, your Grace.”

"We will be leaving for Dorne in two days." He tells the jeweler. "Have them done by the time the ship leaves the harbor and I will give you a bonus to make it worth the effort."

“Yes, your Grace.” The man bows rather frantically, scooping up the few things that he had already talked to the two of you about, and dashing into the back of his stall. When his apprentice appears just a few moments later, you smile with the knowledge that he is going straight to work. It is not even the man’s own son he has sent to man his stall. He will be working well into the night.

"I will give my sand snakes the bracelets he is crafting now." He tells you with a proud smirk. "They will love them." He had been searching for gifts for his girls, always bringing them something when he has to travel and the bracelets would be perfect.

“They will make a beautiful gift, my love.” For his eight - soon, nine - children, a token from the trip when their father wed will hopefully be something to celebrate and not frown upon. “They will look well with the necklaces that Ellaria is bringing to each of your daughters.”

“She loves all of them.” He hums happily, smiling softly. “You will love them too, I hope.”

“I have no doubt.” One of your hands rests gently on his arm and you smile. “I cannot wait to meet them.”

“They will be waiting for us when we arrive in Sunspear.” He informs you with complete surety. “Expect many questions.”

“I expect they will have many.” Just imagining it makes you giggle, thinking of the youngest ones especially. The older girls you will be able to be more straightforward with. “Luckily we are bringing them a new grandfather as well, who will dote on them endlessly no matter who their mother is.” Being able to acquaint your father with the situations that resulted in all of Oberyn’s daughters’ births, he has been excited to meet them ever since. Once he saw how loving your husband can be and how happy you are, nothing else mattered.

“He had been surprisingly welcoming.” He had anticipated a bit of distance from his wife’s father, but he has been to dinner several times. “He will enjoy Dorne.” He frowns slightly. “I have written my brother about Marlee as well. To see if we can find her.”

“You are entirely too good, my love.” Losing her — and discovering why he had lost her — has been a reopened wound for your father, who has clung to all news and stories of Dorne in response. As though he might hear her name in one of them unwittingly.

“There is no stone I would leave unturned if my soulmate was lost to me.” He tells you, his hand sliding along your arm to tangle his fingers with yours.

“I believe I can confidently say that neither Ellaria nor I will ever leave your side.” Still, your fingers tangling tightly in his as though trying to convince him. “There is nothing in the Seven Hells that could ever tempt me away, my love.”

“That is good.” He squeezes your hand and smirks. “I will be very satisfied with being surrounded by my soulmates and our lovers for a long time.”

“Our trip home will be an interesting one, with so many of us in such close company,” you smirk up at your husband as you walk. “I imagine we will spend much time in our quarters.”

Oberyn chuckles. “I do not think Cersei imagined her gift to her daughter would ferry so many of her people away on it.”

“I suppose I can only be grateful that my family had a long-standing connection to Dorne and not to Casterly Rock.” You shudder slightly at the idea and cringe. “Imagine my mother’s victory if she had sold me to the Lannisters instead.”

“I would not wish such a fate on you.” He growls, protective of you despite the fact you are safe in his arms. “A husband with one hand who fucks his sister.”

“I would not wish such a fate on anyone.” It would have been her triumph, to manage something like that. You know how lucky and how grateful you are to have been promised to Oberyn. “I am grateful to be madly in love with my husband instead.”

“What is not to love?” He asks arrogantly with a small wink. He looks around the market again and then turns you back towards the books. “Should you not pick another dozen books for the trip to Dorne?”

“You have been so generous with growing my library that my trunks may weigh more than Margaery’s dowry.” Still, you are not about to protest. Not for a moment. “I may spend the entire journey home with my nose in a book.”

“The captain I have hired for the trip home is strong. He will have crew to move them.” He’s unconcerned with that, more interested in your happiness than anything.

“My husband indulges me.” And the adoration on your face is very clear as he leads you back toward the bookseller. “He is soft and tender hearted and sweet.”

“If you think me soft, do not be frightened tomorrow.” He jokes. He knows that you mean he is soft when it comes to you and Ellaria and how he indulges you.

“Ellaria has told me about Mereen,” you admit, leaning close to his side as you come to stop in front of the bookseller’s stall. “How you fight. What to expect.”

“I have survived many battles.” He nods. “I expect to survive many more.” He let’s go of your hand and pats your ass affectionately. “Go find the books you wish to read to me while you are sitting on my cock later on.”

******

There is a thickness, a palpable tension in the air, when you and Oberyn return from the marketplace. The jeweler had already sent by his delivery of the things Oberyn purchased which were already made, and the note from him listed the price for the items being created, which Oberyn barely glanced at. The delivery of your books, the scarves you found for Ellaria and Margaery, and the baby blanket made by the dressmaker who had crafted your Dornish-style gowns — all of it is waiting for you when you finally return. But the truest shock is that your father has apparently been spending time with Raeden, Ellaria, and Margaery this afternoon.

He hugs you when you drift into the room on Oberyn’s arm and shakes Oberyn’s hands warmly. “I thought I would pay my respects tonight instead of distracting you with well wishes in the morning.” He tells your husband honestly.

While he had not thought much of your father when he first met the man, he had been sorely impressed with his insight since your mother’s departure. They had several frank and interesting conversations and Oberyn had refrained from engaging in his normal pleasures that he might with another lord, taking him to a whorehouse. “Many thanks.” He offers with a smile. “Join us, we are having a Dornish feast delivered by the best cook outside of her boarders.” He boasts. “In fact, I have offered him a place in the palace kitchens and he will sail with us when we depart.”

“We are bringing Salin home with us?” Ellaria sounds delighted with the idea and her fingers trace up your arm. “I think the princess had a hand in this. For the love of date cakes,” she teases.

“It was Oberyn,” you admit, laughing at how right Ellaria is about your craving. “But I am certainly not upset about it.”

“I would be delighted to stay.” Your father perks up at the mention of Dornish food. “It has been some time since I have had a good Dornish meal. The cooks would alter the recipes at home to their tastes.” He huffs, aware that his mother had written them done very specifically.

“Salin is extraordinarily talented.” Even Margaery is looking forward to the meal, having been fully converted to the cuisine of her new home with the first meal she tried. “He prepared the feast we are the night Raeden and I were wed and I have never tasted anything more magnificent.”

“Then I am eager to sample this cooking. My Marlee was a magnificent cook and I would often tease her that she would make a fortune selling her food.” Your father hums, knowing no one would fault him for speaking of his soulmate.

“I would like to hear more of her, if you are willing.” Speaking of Marlee seems to soothe your father and you must admit to being curious about the woman who could have been your mother.

“She was always smiling, always humming a little tune under her breath while she worked.” He tells you. “Making these delicious little tarts. I could eat a hundred of them.”

"How did you meet?" There is tea from the keep's kitchens while you await Salin's arrival with your dinner, and you offer a seat in front of the fire to your father.

“In Dorne.” He looks over at you fondly, smiling with the bittersweet smile of a man who is remembering a better time. “We had traveled back for my grandfather’s funeral. Mother was beside herself and my father could not leave. So I volunteered to escort her.” He had been brash and young, but already a good soldier. Handy with a sword. “I was bored by the grieving in the house, so I had snuck down to the kitchens.” He sighs. “She was baking. Flour on her cheek and singing a song as she mixed bread dough.”

“She worked for Grandmother’s family?” That is a surprise, and certainly makes you wish you had been bold enough to tell him about Raeden sooner. He would have been far more sympathetic than you knew.

“Yes.” He nods, his eyes sliding over to where Raeden is sitting with Margaery. “Although I think your path was leading you here.” He tells you, knowing what is whirling in that clever mind of yours. “She was beautiful. Raven black hair and yet…she had green eyes. The color of a watery jade.”

“So you fell in love over a secret meeting and a loaf of bread?” There is nothing sad or even melancholy in the life you have now, so you try to keep the conversation happy.

“The scar on my neck.” He pulls down the edge of his undershirt and his robe to expose the old, silvery scar. “It was new and fresh. Her dress showed it.” He shares a knowing grin with Oberyn. “She was mine from the first moment.”

“That sounds terribly romantic,” Margaery sighs, still softly envious of anyone who knows their soulmate or who has ever known them. “To have such definitive proof. To never wonder. It sounds remarkable.”

Her husband tightens his hold around her, offering her comfort. Everyone in this room knows that Margaery’s soulmate died without her ever knowing who it was. “If matching marks are ever discovered.” He murmurs softly. “They will be welcomed into our home.” It is the least he could offer considering the two sets of marks he bears, and the relationships he has with both women.

“If I ever have a set of marks appear?” Margaery nuzzles against him, glancing over at you before looking back to his eyes. “I hope that they will be yours or Star’s.”

“I would wear three sets of scars proudly.” He murmurs, bumping his nose against her cheek and then kissing her lips.

“As would I.” If the gods ever saw fit to give you three soulmates, you could not be happier to have one of them be Margaery.

“You are too generous.” Despite her inexperience, she has come to love to dynamic between the three of you especially, although she also enjoys time with Ellaria and Oberyn. Even if Oberyn had not yet fucked her.

“The gods have twice blessed you, pumpkin.” Your father chuckles. He still not quite understand the dynamic at play, but has decided that as long as you are happy, he does not need to. “To heap more upon you would be showing favoritism.”

“I would not expect anything less from gods concerning Star.” Ellaria chuckles quietly. She winks at you. “Perhaps the gods will send another wonderful person into Margaery’s life to add to our blessings.”

Glancing over at your husband, you bite back a grin and you wink at his as he so often does to you. "We will need a bed the size of you entire chamber if we continue to add members to our group."

You father clears his throat, reminding himself that he does not need to ask questions about things he does not wish to know. You are happy, and that is a rarity in life. “Dinner will be delightful, I’m sure.”

"It will." Leyth appears in the doorway, blessedly distracting from your embarrassment and ushering in Salin with his baskets upon baskets of delicious food.

“Salin, you outdo yourself every time.” Ellaria rises graceful and moves to greet the man with a charming smile and a hug. “Oberyn tells us you will be sailing back to Dorne with us?”

"The prince has most graciously offered to allow me to return home with your party." His hand is over his heart as he sets down the baskets from his other arm and Ellaria begins to unload them all over the large dining table. "I am most grateful to be able to see my family again."

“You must join us tonight.” Oberyn decides, motioning to the table. “We will be spending time together in much less spacious confines, let us drink and celebrate with delicious food tonight.”

"I could not impose--" Salin begins, but you immediately shake your head to stop him.

"Please," you insist, motioning for everyone to gather around the table. "We will not stand on ceremony tonight, but feast and celebrate as friends and family. We insist."

Looking around the table, Salin sees nothing but encouraging smiles and the murmurs of agreement, and he nods. "Your Graces are very kind. It would be my honour to join you."

There is something familiar about the young man. It tugs at your father’s thoughts but he tries to dismiss it as simply being nostalgic for his soulmate and everything to do with a culture he had much preferred to the rigid standards of the North.

Sitting down together at the table is indeed like an odd group of friends and family, but it is welcoming for that. Cal and Leyth join you instead of eating separately. Ellaria's mood is bright and boisterous. She speaks with Oberyn and Salin of home with such nostalgia that your father practically sighs with longing, and the rest of you who have never been to Dorne are hanging on every word.

Raeden leans back, watching the group with a smile as he strokes Margaery’s arm. Looking at the group that he has come to care for very much and squirms slightly in anticipation for things to come. It was not as if he had meant to wait to be with Oberyn. The moment had just never really come to be quite yet, but he want it so badly he cannot wait for the night to continue.

“I hope you will all forgive the indulgence,” Salin is saying as he begins to unpack the beautiful containers of sweet treats he prepared for dessert. “I have catered to her Grace’s cravings for our final course. Date cakes, figs with soft cheese, honey soaked fried dough, and crispy pastry with honey and nut filling. All of the princess’s favourites that I have been fortunate to discover so far.”

“Salin.” Your eyes grow as wide as saucers at the spread, practically giggling with glee. “You are far too kind and far too indulgent.”

The pastry with honey and nut filling makes your father tilt his head curiously as he finishes up his own meal. Easily enjoying the best Dornish meal he has had since he has been to the country. Watching as you pile a clean plate high with the delicacies with an indulgent chuckle.

“Try them, Papa.” You insist, moving the plate of crispy, sticky pastry toward your father. “I promise you will not be disappointed. Salin is a magician.”

Once offered, your father eagerly reaches for the pastry, likening it to one he has had many years ago and takes a bite quickly. "Mmmmmhhhhh." The moan is immediate and louder than he would have normally given over any good food. "I-- this tastes exactly like the tarts my soulmate would make."

“Are they traditional?” The question is for anyone at the table who would know - Salin, of course, but Oberyn or Ellaria, too.

“Not especially, your Grace.” Salon’s expression is apologetic. “They are a family recipe. My mother would make them for special dinners. Birthdays, usually.”

"This-- this is exactly like Marlee would make." Your father groans again after another bite. "She added a touch of anise. Not too much or it would overpower the nuts, she always said." He shoves the rest of the tart into his mouth and reaches for another.

Confused, Salin tilts his head and watches as your father seems entranced by the sweets. “You knew my mother?” He asks, not entirely sure how that could be.

The air is sucked out of the room and the tart in his hand falls to the table as your father's head whips around to gape at the man who had served the food. "Your mother?" He chokes out. "Your mother is Marlee Sand?"

“I—yes?” Confused even further as to why this fact has caused such a reaction in the older nobleman, Salin nods. “Marlee Brude, after marrying my sisters’ father. But she was born Marlee Sand.”

"She-- she's dead." The blood rushes to his ears and his head is swimming as he rolls his eyes over to you desperately. "She told me she was dead." He whispers, begging you to confirm that your mother told him that his soulmate was killed.

“I am sure it is a coincidence.” Although, which your father clutching your hand so tightly, your confidence wanes. “Sand is the most common name in Dorne. And surely Marlee is—”

“Is an unusual name.” Ellaria cuts in, glancing between the two of you and Salin. “Not unheard of, but not common.”

“And my mother is very much alive,” Salin adds, still not quite understanding what is happened. “I had a letter from her not a fortnight ago.”

"I don't understand.." He shakes his head, clinging to you and looking at Salin with a more critical eye before he gasps. "Boy." He barks, although Salin is a man grown and not a boy. "Do you have your mother's eyes or your fathers?" He demands.

Salin huffs, being well past thirty years of age and no longer a boy. “My father’s, according to my mother. Much good though that may do me.”

“Pumpkin.” He reaches for your jaw and cradles it gently as he looks from your eyes, his eyes, and then towards the man who shares those eyes. “How-- is it possible?” He whispers quietly.

"You cannot be my father, sir, no matter how much coincidence maybe at play tonight." It is all a little too much for Salin, and he pushes away from the table with a frown. "My father was some far-flung Northern lord who chose money over his soulmate. He married a shrew of a woman and never gave my mother a second thought."

That makes him frown, shaking his head and letting go of your chin to stand, swaying slightly at the revelation that this is his son sitting in front of him. “I can swear on my honor I have thought of your mother every day I have been apart from her.” He tells Salin. “I was led to believe that she had returned to Dorne when my betrothal was announced, as I was trying to convince my father to let me marry Marlee.”

"It cannot be." The color drains from Salin's face even as he stands to face your father. His father? There is something familiar reflected in the older man's face that makes him hesitate, but as he glances away to try to take a shaky breath, his eyes fall on your father's neck. Or - specifically - on the decades old scar that mars his skin. It is that scar that makes him gasp and his eyes dart up to the older man's again. "Tell me how you got that scar." He demands.

“A small skirmish on the northern boarder of our lands when I was young.” It was the first time he had killed a man, and he had barely escaped with his life. He had told Marlee about it one night after sex, her giggling as he had re-enacted it completely nude. He sees that Salin might believe him. “Have you see it before?”

"Do you know what truly happened to the Marlee Sand that you knew?" There is anger there, or at least frustration and surprise, and Salin bristles slightly when your father's story matches what his mother told him of the scar she wears from her soulmate. "Why she returned to Dorne?"

“My bitch of a wife had confessed just weeks ago that she had paid a solider to have her killed.” Your father’s anger rides across his face, a dark storm cloud of emotions that has him curling his fists. He had missed Marlee for years and then mourned her over the past weeks, now to find out she was still living? It is almost too much to bear.

"That soldier had a change of heart." Salin murmurs, feeling the impossibility of the situation slam through him with determination. "He told her to run, and she did." His shoulders hunch, disbelief clouding his features as he shakes his head. "I am Salin Sand because she was driven from your lands. It was many years before she even acknowledged a man's attention. My sisters are young, yet. Young like Lady Sunstone."

The chair in front of him is the only thing that keeps his kneels from buckling as your father learns his soulmate is really alive. Still bearing no marks from her on his body, he had never considered she was alive. “Son.” He chokes out, nearly sobbing at the fact that this man is his grown son. “Tell me she is well. That she is happy?”

Before Salin can even think, he finds himself embracing your father - his father - with tears pooling in his eyes. "I think she will be again," he admits, shaking a little as he processes everything that has happened today. He has gone from simply being able to return home to returning home with his father. "She has been a widow these last few years, but I know she has never forgotten you. In fact--" He pulls away just enough to look at the scar again, fully digesting its existence and the existence of the man who wears it. "She had sent me to learn of you. That...that is why I left Dorne."

“She-- you did?” He’s astonished because he had never seen you before tonight. “I-- did you ever come to the Vale?” He asks, immediately suspicious of his bitch of a wife. Even if she hadn’t rubbed the knowledge of his bastard son in his face, she might have sent him away and never let him know.

“I was robbed on my first night in King’s Landing.” Salin sighs. “I opened my stall in the marketplace as a way to earn the money to return home, but clearly I have been unsuccessful.” Living hand to mouth is difficult for anyone, but it had been particularly embarrassing to have to live in his stall the first few weeks. Things had improved, but not enough. Not until Prince Oberyn.

“I-- I didn’t know of you.” He tells him, hating that they had pulled apart to continue talking. Even as the rest of the table looks on with great curiosity, he only had eyes for his eldest child. “Or I would have- I would have brought her home.” He knows that marriage wouldn’t have been allowed but Marlee and Salin would have been safe, protected and loved.

“It seems I was meant always to have sisters.” The younger man laughs, finally looking over to where you are still sitting - dumbfounded - at the table before his eyes cut back to his father. “Mother will be glad to know you have not forgotten her.”

“I will-- would you allow me to see her?” His eyes are hopeful but there may be too much resentment there to let it be possible. The idea of seeing his soulmate again has him wishing he was already in Dorne.

“It will be up to her.” Even as a young boy who wished to defend her, Salin understood that his mother was strong enough to choose her life for herself. “I have already sent a raven home to tell her that I will be returning with the prince and princess. She will be waiting at the docks for my arrival. I only ask that you allow me to tell her you are there first. To not ambush her.”

It is nearly a miracle that he does not make himself lightheaded, he is nodding so quickly. “Of course.” He agrees before he looks around the table at the rest of the group. “Would you--” he clears his throat. “Would you like to come to my chambers?” He asks, knowing you are eager to celebrate with your husband and he wants to talk to Salin more. “I have wine, or stronger spirits. We can talk?” He is hopeful, biting his lip as he looks at the son that he has missed out on his entire life with. Wishing to know everything about him.

“You are not going anywhere until I am allowed to embrace my oldest brother.” The idea of all of it has overwhelmed you, but the smile on your face is soft and dreamlike. How utterly right that your father should be able to have again what had been stolen from him. That he will have the chance to know his eldest child.

Salin seems almost shocked that you would be wanting a hug, but he’s opening his arms immediately and moving towards the woman who he now knows is his sister. “Gladly. Without you and the prince, this would not be.”

“We will all have time to get to know each other much better on the voyage home.” The warmth of the embrace is genuine — two shocked individuals taking what is in front of them and fully accepting it head on. “And I hope you will find it a comfortable thing to call us by our given names now that we are family.”

“It-- it will take time, Princess.” Salin admits with a small smile as he pulls back. “Perhaps his feelings will change once we change his last name to mine.” Your fathers interjects. “If he is willing to be claimed.”

“We will have that conversation.” There are many mixed feelings that Salin has had about his father over his lifetime. Now, with an entire family being offered to him, the thing he wants first is simply to know this man. “But tonight, let us simply begin to know each other. More will come in time.”

“Come.” The older man nods and motions towards the door. “If we talk too late into the night, there is another bed you can sleep in if you have no wish to walk the roads of King’s Landing.”

It is almost surreal to watch your father and brother step away together. The tension that had filled the room seems to dissipate all at once, and you fall down again in your seat beside Raeden with a sigh. “That was…unexpected.”

“Completely astounding.” Oberyn muses thoughtfully, still reclined in his chair and shaking his head. “Fate is playing in your life, Star. The Gods have truly taken an interest.”

______

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