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#let her pull herself out of it by having her make use of the prince/knight's teachings please
theophagie · 3 months
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So there are a tower, a princess, and a prince/knight...
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The data greeting (+ mods) can be surprisingly inspiring, I was just messing around with stuff when a thought struck me. Kairi isn't a princess in a traditional sense (by blood or other ties to actual royalty), but thanks to the purity of her heart. Even so, the position she's continuously forced into is akin to that of a stereotypical fairytale-esque princess after all. Isolated and made to appear fragile, often reduced to an object or to a passive party, particularly for the sake of Sora's character. Aqua finds herself on the other side of the spectrum: she's a dutiful and chivalrous figure who has been associated with fairytale princes multiple times (arguably she plays the part of one too in regards to Terra and Ventus, the latter especially), and she's unburdened by the same limitations that Kairi faces thanks to her non-proximity to the protagonist. Her moments of weakness aren't just cheap exploits to show off someone else, and she is on even ground with her companions, if not higher
I honestly don't think that Nomura consciously thought about this all things considered and *gestures vaguely* that is not a mess that they can come out of unscathed at this point anyway, but in light of this... by having Kairi ask for Aqua's mentorship, Melody of Memory sets up all the elements for a surprising subversion, one which is already partially at play thanks to their gender tbh. It is subversive for a woman to be a princely figure and a point of reference for strength, and it is subversive for a girl to ask her for guidance. And to circle back... the prince/knight (princely knight? knightly prince?) isn't going to free the princess by taking her away from her metaphorical tower. It's the princess that's going to ask the prince/knight how to become like her so that she may finally free herself
(Conscious or not, hopefully there will be a payoff no matter what though. lol. lmao even <- a cry for help)
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hopelessromantic5 · 4 months
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King Arthur happens to be traveling through Ealdor the exact day the citizens decide they’ve had enough of Merlin.
Labeling him too dangerous, they tied him up on the pyre in the center of town.
As long as Merlin had been alive, he’d never seen this pyre lit.
He would’ve just gotten himself out of this situation with his ‘gifts’ if it weren’t for his poor mother.
The villagers would never let her live in peace if he magically disappeared.
No, this was the only way she could go on living, even with a broken heart.
He didn’t fight. He didn’t really hear much of what they spit at him. But he could hear his mother wailing at him, to save himself, to do whatever he must do.
He’d resigned himself to an early death.
Tom, the town representative, started spewing some righteous words at him. New Religion words that didn’t quite make sense to him, but that’s to be expected. He is, himself, a creature of the old religion, if prophecy is to be trusted.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself, serpent?”
Merlin opened his mouth to tell his mother that he loved her, but he stopped short.
In the distance, he could hear a sound.
The beating of hooves on hard, cold dirt.
Visitors were approaching.
It must be fate, he thinks.
As the horses drew closer, the villagers slowly turned their attentions away from him.
Merlin simply hung his head, letting the Earth he loved so dearly decide which way his life would swing.
“What is the meaning of this?”
A calm, steady voice came from behind him. Deep and concerned. Merlin wished he could see the man.
“My lord,” Tom bowed, as well as he could, which was strange.
Upon realization, Merlin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, were these visitors noble? They never had nobility stay long enough to make comments on anything, only ever just passing through.
“I asked you a question.” The voice said again, with all the authority of someone who’s used to using it.
“This man is a sorcerer, sire. We were just-“
“What has he done?”
“Sire?”
“What has this man done to call for these extreme measures?” When no one answered him immediately, he rephrased.
“Surely there must’ve been a crime committed?” As if it’s a question.
Merlin’s mother pulled herself out of shock and brought herself forth.
“He did nothing, sire.” She spoke firm and unmoving. She must’ve seen hope in this man that Merlin had yet to lay eyes on. “He’s only ever used it for healing wounds and helping our gardens in the winter. Please have mercy on him, my lord. He is my only son.” Tears started falling as her voice broke. She finally met Merlin’s eyes again and he smiled at her, weakly.
“So this man-“
“Sorcerer.” Corrected Tom. What a dick.
“This man, did nothing but heal you and help you survive and this is how you repay him?”
Again no answer.
The man seemed to gesture at Tom, walking towards the town elder, and bringing him finally into Merlin’s line of sight.
The doomed boy nearly gasped.
Silver and red bled together in the sun, armor and finery melded like roses in white sand.
The man-the lord…the knight? He had golden blonde hair, that shone like it’s own light.
Blue eyes made even more obvious and striking surrounded by unblemished, sun-kissed skin.
“You seem to be leading the horde. Tell me why?” No, answer. “Cut him down.” A command. The stranger’s face was a hard, blank line.
Funny how, even then, he didn’t feel like a stranger. But Merlin was in no state to remember it.
“My lord, I do not think that would be wise. Your father was the one to wage war on magic-“
“I am not my father. Cut him down.”
Merlin swallowed. Uther Pendragon was the only person in his mind that waged the war on magic, that began the purge. Which means this man could only be his son, Prince Arthur.
What a prince he was.
Well, King, now.
No wonder every person in the vicinity practically dropped to their knees upon his arrival. They’d all heard stories of ‘The Just King’ that now reigned over Camelot. Giving whatever he could to his citizens that needed it most, never turning anyone away who seeks shelter. Merlin had heard the same as everyone else. Seeing the King in person now, he was in awe.
“I will not endanger the lives of all who live here.” Tom turns back to Merlin with the lit torch.
Merlin held his breath, but the second Tom turned away from him, the King pulled his sword. It made the loveliest sound as it left the sheath.
The sound of salvation.
Tom had the tip of a majestic blade directed right at his throat, as the King spoke again.
“I said, cut him down.”
The look on the King’s face was one that could kill.
Merlin wondered momentarily why he cared so much.
Finally someone from the crowd stepped forward with a knife and began to cut away Merlin’s ties.
Hunith leapt forward and engulfed her son in a hug, while also somewhat holding his body upright.
He did not want to let go, considering he thought he would never get to hug his mother again. But the entire village was watching them.
As was-
“What is your name?”
It was phrased as a question but spoken like a command. Merlin knew it was directed at him without opening his eyes.
He did, reluctantly, release his mother and turn to the golden King, facing deep blue eyes head on. Never cowering.
“Merlin.”
The King must’ve seen something in him. Something every other person was blind to or chose to ignore, simply because he was a peasant. He took a step closer and Merlin could hear the tiny tink of metal pieces on his shining armor, as he did so.
“Well, Merlin.” He said, as if trying it out for himself. “Seeing as I’ve just given you your life, I’d like to ask a favor.”
Merlin’s curiosity was peaked, to say the least. King’s didn’t ask favors, they took whatever they wanted.
King Arthur did not wait for a reply to continue.
“I’m in need of assistance. And I could use someone with a gift like yours, specifically.”
Merlin narrowed his eyes in minuscule doubt. Doubt of intentions, doubt of his safety.
The King somehow knowing his exact thoughts said
“Of course you would be permitted to come back when you are needed. And when I have accomplished my goal, if you wish, you can leave. I will not keep anyone against their will. I am simply offering.” A small smile played on his mouth. Flush pink lips. He also held up his hands as if to say ‘I will not harm you’.
Merlin’s gut told him to follow this man.
Terrifyingly, his intuition told him to follow this man, practically a stranger, anywhere. Everywhere.
Merlin felt a pull he’s never felt before. In the moment, he assumed it was immense gratitude for saving his life.
Merlin turned to meet his mothers eyes, he already knew what she was going to tell him.
“I think it will be good for you. To get out for a while.” She smiles softly.
“Will you be alright?” He whispered, glancing at the crowd still gathered around an unlit pyre.
“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed him in a bear hug, like she always did. “And if they boot me out, I’ll come find you.”
Merlin sighed into her shoulder.
“Alright.”
When Merlin turned back, the King had turned his eyes to the ground, giving mother and son a moment of privacy.
Merlin was starting to warm to him already.
“Can I pack first?”
King Arthur met his gaze then, doing that half smile thing, again.
“I suppose.” He nodded. “But don’t dawdle we need to move if we want to make it back before sundown.”
“Yes, sire.” The title which usually held reverence and respect, was laced with sarcasm. He didn’t seem to think twice, as he strode away towards their hut to gather his things.
If Merlin had looked back, he would’ve found a fully beaming King looking after him and about six knights with faces of complete shock.
And perhaps, one knowing mother.
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the-froschamethyst4 · 10 months
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Knight in Shining Black Armor
𖤐Pairing: Ghost x F! Reader
𖤐Pronouns: She/Her
𖤐Warnings: smut, fantasy, fairy tale, p n v, language, overstimulating, praising, rough sex, pussy playing, eating out, semi-fingering, Knight Ghost and Princess Y/n
Princess Y/n is stuck in a tower waiting for her Knight in shining armor to come and save her
The Knight who does will get to marry the lovely Princess and many Knights have tried
That is until one man manages to kill the dragon that was protecting Y/n and he gets to marry her
——————
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———————
Like every day. Princess Y/n looks out of her tower looking at the sun come up, she was always up before dawn, she wanted to get up early in case her Prince or Knight shows up to rescue her.
As she watched the sun come up she also heard the loud dragon below her roar to let his presents known. Y/n ducked into her room as she watched the dragon fly pass her window and fly around her tower.
“Stupid dragon,” she mumbled.
Y/n pulled back a purple velvet cover showing off a painting she’s been doing since she’s been stuck in this hell hole.
She gathered all her paints and started to mix her paints for a perfect green and blue. It was a landscape of the area that surrounded her tower.
She put her paintbrush is her mouth so she could put her long hair into a high ponytail. She took the paintbrush out of her mouth and dipped it in her paints ready to paint the landscape.
———————
“Hey Ghost,” Soap a Knight said. He came trotting next to Ghost on his horse.
“What,” Ghost groaned.
“Wanna make a bet?”
“With you, fuck no,” Ghost said as he trotting his horse to the gate of the castle.
“Come on, Ghost. It’s a simple bet.”
“No, Soap.”
“Come on, don’t you wanna know you might win?”
“I know what I’ll win, marriage with the Princess.”
“If we find her,” Captain Price the head Knight interrupted the two bickering Knights. “And remind you, it’s who finds her first, so I could find her, Soap could find her and you Ghost could her, anyone can marry her,” Price rolled her eyes.
“Men…find my daughter and…good luck…you have a month,” The King released the Knights and they all took off into the Dark Forest to look for Princess Y/n.
———————
“Hmmmm~? It needs…” Y/n tapped her chin with her painted hand thinking about what she is missing in the painting. It still wasn’t completed or anything, it just feels like something off.
She stepped to her window seeing that she should be in the painting. She looked back and was trying to see how to incorporate herself into it.
She stepped close to it and started the outline of her piece.
——————
The Knights all split up to look for the Princess. Ghost and his horse were far West away from everyone, he knew some will not even come this way to look for her.
He was getting hot and started to look for a spot to get water for them to drink and for them to swim in just a little bit.
He soon found a spot and let his horse drink from the lake and Ghost splashed his face to cool himself up. He removed his armor on his arms and splashed his arms as well.
ROAR
The loud roar of the dragon guarding the Princess startled both Ghost and his horse. His horse ran away leaving Ghost to now fend for himself to look for the Princess.
“Great…now this is going to take me forever,” Ghost groaned as he put his armor back on.
“But at least…I’m close…” he mumbled to himself as he moved forward and got his sword ready for anything and to cut tree limbs, overgrown bushes and leaves.
——————
Y/n let out a bored yawn after doing her outline. The dragon did startle her with the loud roaring but she was use to it.
The dragon rested on a large rock next to the lake. Y/n hasn’t left the tower since she was 12 years old before she was placed here.
She sat in her window bored, rolling her paintbrush between her fingers tips. She knew she was a mess with paint all over her body.
She jumped from her windowseal and went to her bathroom and ran a hot shower. She removed her dirty clothes and got in the shower, she let out a soft moan as the hot water hit her skin.
She ran her hands down her body till they reached her clit. She gently rubbed and pushed 2 fingers inside of herself. She stumbled to her shower wall and leaned against it to keep herself stabled, she kept moving her fingers in and out of her quickly. She loved the feeling of do it herself, but she would like if someone else...did it to her.
She felt her body feel that knot in the stomach, she felt herself leak onto her fingers, but she didn't stop she pushed a third finger in, she moaned at the top of her lungs when she was able to fit three fingers in, usually she can only do two and give up afterwards.
Y/n kept pushing her fingers in and out quickly, her hands clenched into a fist as that same knot feeling was in her stomach and she came again. She pulled them out and felt the white liquid leak down both of her legs.
"Hmmm~ god..." she mumbled as she started to clean herself up.
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Ghost felt lost. He felt like he's been going in circles, he's pretty sure he might have gone passed the same tree 4 different times. How he knows is because he marked it and went on ahead and saw it again.
He placed his hands through his hair and leaned against a wall covered in vines and branches. He wiped his sweaty forehead but before he was about to stand up, he fell through the wall.
"Ah! What the fuck?" Ghost groaned, rubbing his head and looking back to see where he was now. He stood up quickly and walked farther into what seemed some...beautiful area (Ever seen Rapunzel? Where her tower is, that's what I'm talking about).
Flowers covered the ground, some tall green grass, a large lake with a waterfall falling from the huge rocks and...a tower. Ghost looked up the tower seeing how tall it was.
"I found her..." he mumbled to himself.
Huff...Huff...Huff...Huff...
Ghost slowly turned and saw the dragon peacefully sleeping right behind him. The dragon didn't realize that there was a Knight here to save the Princess.
Y/n wrapped a towel around her waist and soon dropped it to put on one of her dresses. She now walked around her tower to do something else. She grabbed a book and went by her window ready to read.
"No one will ever come..." she whispered to herself. She saw the dragon sleeping and some of the tall green moving.
"Huh? What the hell, is that?" Y/n asked herself. She couldn't see if it was a person or a really big animal. She watched the grass move and soon someone stood up.
Her jaw dropped and ducked into the tower. "Please don't wake up dragon, please don't, please don't, please don't," Y/n repeated.
Y/n was looking for something to help the Knight get up the tower with no problem.
"Come on, there has to be rope somewhere," she said, looking around.
Ghost was being sneaky and trying to not wake the giant dragon. Ghost stood up in the green, he was almost there to the tower, he continued walking to the tower trying not to step on sticks.
He looked up at the tower and he touched the brick thinking he might be dreaming about the tower being right in front of him.
"I...I did it..." Ghost whispered to himself; question is how is he going to get up there without the dragon hearing him. He placed his fingers in the crooks of the brick and tried to pull himself up, but his armor was weighing himself down.
"Fuck," he whispered. "Come on, Ghost think..." He looked up the tower seeing the wooden window, he grabbed his bow, his rope and an arrow.
He tied the rope to the arrow; he placed the arrow in the bow ready to fire. He shot up (don't ever do that btw) to the wood, he shot it up and waited for it to stick in the wood.
Y/n heard the thud from the arrow landing in the wood of the window, she looked and saw it was him.
Ghost pulled on the arrow to make sure it was in the wood, he jumped on the rope and pulled himself up.
"What do I do?" Y/n asked herself. She went to her room and just waited till she could hear him inside the tower.
"Almost there Princess," Ghost grumbles as he went up.
Y/n played with her fingers thinking what to do, what to say, what to tell him. She just waited, she heard him at the window huffing and puffing from the climb.
"Jeez, am I that out of shape?" Ghost asked himself. He looked around the room trying to find Princess Y/n.
"How did you get pass the dragon, Knight?" Y/n came out of her room, standing at the top of the staircase looking down at Ghost. Ghost's jaw dropped looking at the beautiful Princess. Ghost fell on his right knee, hand on his heart.
"I am glad, I have found you, my Princess. Your father had sent me and a team to find you, he gave us a month to find you and I have found you on my own. I did not slay the dragon, the dragon is asleep and has not noticed me here, either. I was trained to be the quietest Knight and I was, and I have found you, my Princess." Ghost looked up at the Princess.
"I see...now...Knight-"
"Please, Princess, call me Ghost."
"Ghost alright. What do we do now?"
"I marry you, Princess," Ghost said, he stood up and watched the Princess walk down the stairs till she got to him. She smiled up at Ghost. She placed her hands on his chest, she touched his shiny black armor.
"Okay...please, take me to my father."
"I will, Princess...but...first." Ghost placed his hands on her cheeks pulling her face close and kissed her lips so carefully and gently. His eyes were closed, and Y/n just melted into his touch.
"Princess...shall I...make you feel good?" Ghost asked.
"How?" She asked. She was so innocent (besides the touching herself earlier). Ghost smirked and licked the corner of his mouth with a smirk on his face as well.
Ghost picked Y/n up, pushing her against the wall of her tower, her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck as well. His lips landed on hers again, her hand ran through his blonde hair.
His tongue pushed its way into her mouth, she lightly moaned into his mouth, his hands roamed from her thighs to her butt, gently squeezing it making her moan too.
Ghost then started to walk to the Y/n's bedroom, he pulled away from her to watch where he was going, Y/n looked over his shoulder nervous, what does she do?
Ghost dropped Y/n on her bed, Ghost started to take his armor off, and Y/n tried to remove her dress, but Ghost did it by pulling the fabric ripping it.
"Jeez..."
"What?"
"You look...beautiful..." he said, kissing her neck. Y/n's hands went up from his neck into his hair. His lips then led up to her lips. Ghost stood up and looked down at his dick close to her clit.
She was breathing heavy watching Ghost slowly move down. His face right in front of her clit. She was starting to get nervous. He licked his lips and kissed her inner thigh; she moaned loving his lips on her.
Ghost then kissed her lips, his tongue licked in between her folds. He smirked and flicked his tongue against her lips. She covered her mouth and moaned into her hand, but she soon moved it and grabbed Ghost's hair.
Ghost then pushed his middle and ring finger inside of her clit, he moved them in and out fast and his tongue flicking between her folds.
"AHHH! AHHH!" She moaned, covering her mouth. His mouth soon pulled away and he just shoved his fingers in and out. "H-Holy," Y/n moaned.
He pulled his fingers out and watched how her body looked like it deflated. Her back was arched but now was against the mattress of the bed. Ghost smirked and then smacked Y/n's pussy lightly with his palm.
"AH!" Y/n moaned. He did it over and over earning those soft light moans from Y/n's voice.
"AH! AH! P-Please...don't...s-stopAH!" She moaned making him smirk.
Ghost shoved his fingers back inside and by distracting Y/n he pushed his dick inside of her clit. He started to thrust and soon pulled his fingers out; he licked them clean and placed his hands on the mattress next to Y/n's head.
"Ahhh~ ahhh~ G-Ghost..."
Ghost looked down at him and smirked, he bent down and kissed her neck then her lips, her hands cupped his face deepening the kiss. His hand grabbed her chin controlling her how to kiss properly.
"I-I'm s-sorry."
"Why?" He said as he thrusted.
"B-BecauseAHH! I d-don't know...h-how to...k-kiss."
"Don't worry about that, Princess...you're doing amazing..." Ghost panted. "Holy fuck...you are amazing," he repeated to her.
Y/n wanted this, she wanted her Knight or Prince to treat her right and that is what Ghost was doing, he was being gentle but would pick up the pace at certain times.
Y/n liked the roughness and Ghost could tell, so Ghost went with that, he stayed at a fast and rough pace. He loved the expression on her face and loved hearing the moans from the Princess.
"G-Ghost."
"I know, Princess, I know, come on, come on, come on," he repeated, she felt the knot in her stomach and felt herself cum. Ghost pulled out and watched himself pump onto her stomach.
"Holy fuck," Ghost said. Y/n gripped the bedsheet, her hair a mess and she had cum on her legs and stomach. Ghost just smirked looking down at her.
"I can't believe...that I'll be married to a beautiful Princess," Ghost cupped her face and kissed her lips.
"And I can't believe, I'll be with someone who loves me," she smiled.
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Night rolled around and Ghost was stuck in the tower with Princess Y/n. Y/n was asleep next to him, both of their bodies naked and covered with a sheet from her bed.
Ghost moved a piece of her hair from her face and kissed her soft lips. She stirred in her sleep and Ghost watched her ready for her to open her eyes, but she stayed asleep.
"You look amazing, you were amazing, and...I can't wait to love you for the rest of my life," Ghost mumbled against her temple and kissed her before going to sleep.
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The next morning, Ghost and Y/n were trying to leave but the dragon was the only obstacle in their way.
"DRAGON! HERE BOY!" Y/n called him like a dog, and he landed on the tower, shaking the tower and Y/n and Ghost tried to keep balance.
"Woah!" Y/n said as they tried to stay stable. "Okay, okay, calm down, listen boy, I need you to take me and Knight Ghost back to my Kingdom to see my father."
The dragon just titled his head and looked passed Y/n to see Ghost. The dragon's face was not entertained that a Knight got passed him.
"Come on, I know. Come on, help us out, please?" Y/n said.
The dragon just looked like he rolled his eyes and let Princess Y/n and Ghost get on hm and fly them to the Kingdom.
"THIS IS CRZY PRINCESS!!" Ghost yelled.
"YEAH, BUT I'M FINALLY FREE FROM THAT TOWER!!" Y/n yelled back. "WOOOOOOHOOOOOO~!" Y/n shouted.
"I'M GONNA DIE FROM FLIGHT!!" Ghost yelled as Y/n laughed.
The Kingdom was up ahead, and Y/n swallowed a lump in her throat nervous to face her father after 20 years. Ghost could tell she was nervous, his hand landed on her shoulder.
"It's okay, if anything happens...we could...make our own life in the tower far from everyone and you'll get to leave that place whenever you want," Ghost tried to make it sound more like a paradise than it actually was.
"Thank you, Ghost."
"Of course," The dragon landed in the middle of the castles garden, everyone in the castle came out to see the dragon and Ghost and Princess Y/n.
The King came out and saw his daughter and one of his best Knights arrive at the Kingdom. He smirked seeing his daughter after so long.
"My daughter," he says with his arms out and wanting a hug from his daughter. Y/n didn't hug him, her arms down by her side scared if she did hug him what might happen.
Ghost saw this and once the King was done hugging his daughter, Ghosts hand rested on her waist.
"Good job, Ghost for bring back my daughter to the Kingdom, now...the wedding, you've earned your right to marry my daughter, now...when would like to do the celebration?"
How not a 'how's my daughter?' 'I've missed you.' Nothing just 'when can I marry you off already.'
Y/n looked up at Ghost, he looked down at her and just gave her a small smile.
"We don't want a big celebration, we want to go back and live our life at that tower, she'll be under my watchful eye, she'll get to the tower when she wants to and will be taken care of by me...since...her father just thought she should be locked away for 20 years miserable, well...I will marry her but only for us to live away from this Kingdom and away from you...are terrible father and terrible King," Ghost spat.
The King was shocked by Ghost's sudden burst.
"You do not get to disrespect me."
"I can and I will," Ghost said as they got back on the dragon. The dragon took off heading back to the tower. Y/n felt hot tears in her eyes, she sniffled, and Ghost held her close to his body.
"I am so sorry, my Princess, that he would do that to you, his ONLY daughter, what a prick," Ghost grumbled.
"I-It's okay, G-Ghost...I just...wanna go home."
Never did Y/n think she'll ever call that tower home...but that's where she feels safe, is that place, it being protected by the dragon and her having wait for her lover, but now she gets to be with her lover.
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niki-phoria · 7 months
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pairing: crown prince!jake x knight!gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 802
includes: royalty au, forbidden love if you squint, written with male reader in mind
a/n: happy birthday jake <3 based on this prompt list by @urfriendlywriter and this pic of jake :))
summary: feelings always seem to creep up on you at the worst times. you've managed to keep it together in public enough to avoid suspicion - but who's stopping you when no one is looking? or, crown prince jake falls in love with his most loyal knight
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“his highness has requested you.” 
your eyebrows furrow slightly. being requested for duty was nothing new, but you had never been singled out directly, let alone by the crown price himself. “has something happened?”
“i’m not sure. all i know is that he requested you directly.” you cock your head at the servant but follow after her nonetheless, slipping away from your assigned post and reentering the ornate palace. 
you only make it to the dining room before your guide turns on her heel to face you. “the prince is in his room. do you know the way?”
“i do,” you nod. 
“good.” she simply mumbles - more to herself than you - before slipping away almost as quickly as she had arrived. 
the trek to jake’s room is a silent one. your shoes echo throughout the hallways until you finally make it to the back of the palace specifically reserved for the prince. “your highness?” you call, gently knocking on the door.
the door swings open almost immediately, revealing a brightly smiling jake. you can’t help the way your own lips quirk into a soft smile of your own as you follow the man into his bedroom. 
“i recall telling you to call me jake.”
“and i recall telling you i have appearances to keep up.” 
jake chuckles, raising his hands in mock defense as he relents. he circles around you like a piranha before finally stopping in front of you. “well, then it can be our little secret.”
you pause. the words sound so foreignly casual. maybe it’s the way he says them - the words dripping with affection as they leave his lips. or perhaps it’s because jake is saying them. 
jake, the man who somehow has weaseled a way into your life despite your best efforts. 
jake, who makes your heart race and face flush more than you’d like to admit.
jake, who broke all professional boundaries and held you as you cried after a particularly bad day. 
jake, who has made sure you never feel alone again.
jake, the crown prince.
jake, the man you’ve fallen in love with.
your breath hitches in your throat. jake has stepped even closer before you realized. his gaze remains trained on your lips. you can feel your heart beating erratically in your chest - warning you to pull away each time the muscle violently thumps against your chest wall - but you can’t stop. 
the sleeve of jake’s hanbok slips down his arm as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. his nose just barely brushes against yours. you can almost feel the shaky breath he takes before he speaks. 
“tell me to stop and i will.” his voice is so quiet you almost miss it entirely. but you don’t. 
jake’s words linger in the air for what feels like too long. you both stand there, frozen in time. unsure of the consequences. unwavering in your affection. 
in lieu of answering verbally, you slowly lean in before gingerly pressing your lips against jake’s. he reacts almost immediately, all but melting into your touch. you can feel yourself succumbing as well, limiting the distance between your bodies even more.
you barely have enough time to catch your breath when jake kisses you again. this time it’s deeper. more passionate. more desperate.
you reach up, wrapping your arms around jake’s shoulders before you can talk yourself out of it. jake sighs when you tangle your fingers into the short hairs at the nape of his neck. his own hands ghost against your waist, pulling your body closer to him. 
you’re both nearly panting by the time you pull away. your lungs burn from a lack of oxygen, but your heart aches at the thought of ever losing jake. your mind races. you should stop now, before you’re both in too deep. before you’re forced to give up the person you love most. 
jake presses another chaste kiss to your lips before you can move. you feel like you’re stuck in a trance - intoxicated by jake. unable to pull away. “it’s not a sin to break the rules, right?” you whispers. 
“no,” he murmurs. his hands are soft against your skin as he brushes his thumb against your cheek. “we haven’t done anything wrong.” 
you let his words comfortably linger in the air for a few seconds; you simply enjoy the feeling of being with jake for as long as you can. leaning in, jake presses his forehead against your own. “no, we haven’t.”
he softly smiles. “stay with me?” 
“i’ll stay for as long as you want me to.” 
jake chuckles. “i love you.” 
you barely have enough time to whisper out an “i love you too” of your own before jake is pressing his lips against yours once again, sealing your promise with a kiss.
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jaimeslanisters · 1 year
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the pawn in every lover's game (part ten)
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Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader
When you’re ten, your father sends you to King's Landing to befriend a princess and woo a prince. A lioness growing up amongst dragons is a dangerous thing indeed.
crossposted on ao3 masterlist word count: 6.4k notes: late update which is 100% on me so my bad! but anyways, a lovely and beautiful anon made a playlist for this fic so give it a listen! here's a nice reprieve after the drama of the past chapters (:
Once, as children in your library, you had tried to convince Aemond to read the tale of Lady Jonquil and Florian the Fool. He had scoffed at you - it wasn’t the usual history or philosophy the two of you poured over together. It was a silly romance story, nothing to do with the important matters of state he was obsessed with understanding, but you had pressed it upon him to read.
You can still remember pushing your book of songs over his own book about the maesters of the Citadel, determined to present your case. ‘It’s not quite as serious as everything you like to read but it says something about men, I feel. Ser Florian may have been a fool but he was wise where it counted.’
‘Singers and bards are invested in us thinking that, my lady, but I don’t think it’s true,’ he had responded, rolling his eyes, but he had taken your book and read it. He had never once talked about it with you though, simply returning the book to you the next day and distracting you from asking him about it by dragging you into a debate over whether or not Lann the Clever was the bastard son of Floris the Fox or even Rowan Gold-Tree, a topic sure to rile any Westerlander, leaving you to completely forget about silly love songs as you had argued over your ancestor’s own ancestry.
‘I am as great a fool as ever lived, and as great a knight’ Ser Florian had told his lady when he had crowned her. ‘All men are fools and all men are knights where women are concerned.’
With as much love as you have for the songs, you never could quite believe that line, could never make it quite click in your head.
But now, with the screaming all around you, as Aemond stands at your side, arm in arm and having crowned you with a crown of bloodied roses, you wonder if he’s remembering the songs as well as you are, if he’s realizing that maybe the singers were right in some respect.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” You ask, pushing away your thoughts of the Lady Jonquil and her fool of a knight, in favor of looking over him anxiously. He’s bloodstained but you can’t tell how much of it is his and how much of it belongs to his opponent. His dark armor hides most of it, preventing you from picking out any clear wounds or injuries, and, out in the open like this, you can’t glide your hands over him to try and feel any out.
Aemond looks down at you, his eyes soft as he takes in your worry. “No, not hurt. Bruises here and there, some cuts and scrapes that my mother will drive herself insane worrying about, but nothing serious.”
You sigh in relief, leaning against him slightly, wishing you could wrap your arms around him and pull him close. You allow yourself a moment there, pressed against the hard armor, before you pull back, conscious of the eyes of all of King’s Landing watching the two of you. There’s a flicker of disapproval on Aemond’s face when he notices, his jaw tightening just a tick, and he shoots a baleful glare at the crowd.
It reminds you all too much of the way little Loren’s face would scrunch if anyone tried to pull his blanket away from him, right before he let out loud screams and wails that sent the entire household running to his side, and the odd comparison makes you laugh out loud.
Aemond’s brow furrows but his gaze softens once more as he watches your obvious glee.
“My father will be chomping at the bit to arrange a meeting with your mother,” you say after a while, smiling fondly as you look back toward the crowd. The royal box is emptying out and you know you only have moments before both of your families descend upon the two of you. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to secure an… understanding for right now. At least, until Cerelle’s marriage is public knowledge and Tyshara and Lord Tarly announce their own betrothal.”
Aemond huffs, showing a flash of impatience that makes you beam. “Hasn’t there always been an understanding? It’s been his and your goal ever since you came to the capitol.” You blink, confused for a moment, before shame and horror blossom on your face as you realize he knows. His eye watches you, openly amused, and he leans down, mouth by your ear, voice so low you can barely hear him over the still-roaring crowd. “You’re clever, my love, but it’s only in recent years that you’ve become skilled at deception and manipulation. I’m afraid that I was onto you right from the start.”
Heat explodes in your cheeks and you pull away, gaping up at him openly. He smirks at you, infuriatingly smug, and, suddenly uncaring of the eyes around you, you open your mouth. To say what - you’re not entirely sure. A denial? An explanation? An apology? No matter what you plan to say, you still want to say something but you’re cut off when Aegon all but slams into his brother, knocking him from your grasp, and sending the two of them skidding slightly in the dirt.
“I’m a rich, rich, rich man,” Aegon crows, arm flung around his younger brother as he gives him a firm shake, looking elated. Right behind him, Daeron is excitingly bouncing on his heels, looking like a little boy in all of his joy.
“Haven’t you always been a rich man?” Aemond snipes back, no real bite behind his words, and Aegon merely grins wider, looking impossibly pleased as if it was he himself who had fought and defeated all the opponents his brother had faced.
“Yes but now I’m a richer man,” he corrects, even as the rest of his family arrives to crowd around you all, forming a wall between you and the rest of the world. “That was family wealth, brother. This is personal wealth now - mine entirely.”
You watch them, torn between laughing at their interaction or panicking at the fact that Aemond knows, before Helaena tugs on your hand to call your attention. When you turn to her, you jerk back slightly as she reaches up to your face with a handkerchief, wiping at your chin gently. When she pulls it away, you blink at the blood staining the white fabric.
Aemond’s hand. When he grabbed me earlier.
It should horrify you but instead, something in you roars with satisfaction. In front of all of King’s Landing, he had claimed you and he had crowned you and he had marked you. It calms you but only barely.
He wouldn’t do this if he didn’t care for me too. If he didn’t think I was honest you try to reassure yourself but it’s still difficult to convince yourself of it. A part of you wants to be indignant at the idea he could judge you for seeking him out in marriage - the two of you had always agreed about the importance of marrying for your house rather than personal pleasure. You had just been lucky that for you, those two desires managed to be one and the same.
A larger part, however, is just scared. You can still remember, plain as day, the little boy who had seemed baffled that you wanted to spend time with him, that you even cared to speak to him. Aemond is grown now, more confident and sure of himself than he had ever been as a child, but you don’t want to hurt him. You never have.
You need him to know that. To know that you’ve always been honest in wanting him and only him.
Helaena knocks you with her shoulder and you startle, looking at her with wide eyes. She smiles, soft and gentle as always. “Don’t get lost in there,” she says, reaching up to tap at the side of your head.
You manage a smile. “I won’t, princess,” you promise, fingers itching for something to grab and squeeze in your nerves.
She eyes you and you know that she can see right through you.
You wonder who else can.
There’s a slight commotion and you look up in time to see the Queen descend upon Aemond. Unlike you, she’s well within her rights to brush her hands over him, searching for any wounds that he might be hiding. She looks equal parts relieved, exasperated, and proud as she crowds her middle son and, though you’re too far to perfectly hear her quiet voice over the still rowdy crowd, you can only imagine that she’s scolding and congratulating Aemond.
You only get a moment to watch their interaction when someone drags you into their chest in a facsimile of a hug and you let out a loud yelp. Aemond immediately turns at the sound, hand flying to his sword, only to have to force himself to relax when he catches sight of who it is.
“Your prince did well, sweetling,” Jason murmurs in your ear, giving you a tight squeeze, and you swat him away, fighting down a pleased smile. When you turn to face your father, he reaches up to touch the crowd on your head and, when he pulls his hand away, his fingers are tinged with red. “A Queen of Love and Beauty crowned twice in one tourney by two different men. You’re in rare company now, sweet girl. Not even Lady Jonquil can claim that honor.”
You laugh, feeling your cheeks go hot. Behind him, Tyland walks up, having been speaking with Lord Ormund. Even he looks victorious. “Are you talking about how our little lady and the Dragon Prince have ensured that the singers will be well-fed for the next few months?”
“Hardly,” you retort, knowing as you say it that it’s a lie. Victor and Aemond both crowning you, a Queen of Love and Beauty twice over, the Dragon killing the Fox. Individually, they were all things that would invite the singers to write their songs. Combined? You’d be lucky if it ever stopped. The bards must have been frothing at the mouth during the tourney and now that they’ve been given their perfect story, there is little doubt in your mind that they will take every advantage.
You wonder if centuries in the future if the songs would still mention you and Aemond like they mention Jonquil and Florian. You wonder what they would say.
I hope they’re beautiful songs, you think, feeling a girlish sense of joy spread throughout you, something you haven’t felt in quite some time.
“Now,” Jason says, grinning as he squeezes you again. “I have to speak to the Queen. See about arranging a meeting.”
“Not tomorrow,” you warn. “Helaena is to spend the day preparing for the wedding and I’m to assist her with it. It’ll have to be after the wedding.”
Your father laughs. “I doubt we’ll have a problem if we postpone a little, sweetling. Like Lord Tarly, Prince Aemond strikes me as an exceedingly patient man.”
You bite your lip as you think about the look in Aemond’s eye at the moment after he had crowned you - when he looked as if he wanted to devour you.
No, father, you think as you watch Jason walk to the Targaryen princes and their mother, his gait slow and confident like a predator that has finally cornered his prey. I don’t think Aemond is very patient at all.
“What did the court say?” You finally ask, tearing your eyes away from them to meet your uncle’s watchful gaze. “Positive? Negative? Will I be tarred and feathered during the feast tonight?”
He sighs, rubbing at his beard. “Excited, to say the least. There’s little the court loves more than scandals such as this one. This will sustain them for some time and I wouldn’t be surprised if some especially nosy ladies reach out to organize teas or take you out riding and hawking just to try and pry some gossip from you. I’d keep an eye out for it.”
You smile, shaking your head. You open your mouth to ask for more detail when there’s a screeching wail, loud enough to reach your ears but not quite loud enough to call the attention of the rest of the grounds. You look over and freeze, feeling as if someone has poured ice water over you, dowsing and chilling you completely.
Two servants stand awkwardly to the side as a woman sobs over Victor Florent’s body, her dress soaking in blood, staining its delicate blue beyond saving. A man is holding her, pulling her back, his own cheeks streaked with tears as he stares with despair down at the broken body of what once was a knight.
And Erren Florent stands, almost perfectly still, eyes boring into Aemond and his family.
His brother and good sister you realize as you watch their grief, your stomach twisting into knots. For all his faults, they must have loved him something fierce.
You want to look away, want to look and see anything else, but your body won’t let you. Is it penance? Is it a poor attempt at an apology?
You crush the thought as easily as it arises. Not an apology. Never an apology. This was a tourney. This was the melee. Men died as easily as flies and Aemond had been well within his rights to kill Victor. If it hadn’t been Victor, it would have been Aemond and his life is worth all of the lives of the entire Florent line. You’d rather have to personally rip their House out from their seat of power, root and stem and seed, than have to face what could have been today.
No. Not an apology.
Guilt.
If Victor Florent was the only victim, you would sleep easy. You would sleep happily. But he had a family. You didn’t care about Erren Florent - the man deserves to be knocked down like this, deserves to see his ambitions lying pitifully in the dirt - but his brother and good sister were innocent. Their only crime was loving their family.
You don’t even want to imagine the state you would be in if you lost one of your siblings. If Helaena or even Daeron or Aegon had paid the ultimate price.
If Aemond.
As much as you don’t want to think about it, the thought rises in your mind and you know what you would feel, what you would want, if you were in the position of Victor Florent’s loved ones.
Because of that, you turn back to your uncle, finally pulling yourself free from the Florents’ show of grief. “Send them our condolences,” you say, voice quiet but firm. Hardened. There can be no room for doubt. “But see if we can pay a servant in their party to loosen their tongue. If they decide they want more than our well wishes… We will move from there.”
Tyland watches you, careful and analytical. He’s looking into you, peering around as if he’s looking for something. You meet his gaze with determination, lifting your head up, and eventually, your uncle smiles. It’s a gentle smile even as his eyes flash with satisfaction and pride. “Of course, little one,” he replies, holding his arm out for you to take. You take it and he does you the favor of ignoring the slight tremor in your body. “Your will is my command.”
I am a Lion of the Rock and foxes cannot frighten me.
——————————–
Unlike the dinner before, you dress in your house colors tonight, shining in a gown of deep maroon with veins of an even darker red embroidered on the thick fabric. A corset forged out of gold, more decorative than serving any true purpose, cinches at your waist, a lion’s head embossed onto the delicate metal.
No one is looking at your dress, however. They hadn’t looked at your dress when you had entered or when you had bowed before the royal family. Even when you sit down to eat, your family all around you, your cousins and distant uncles don’t look at your dress or even your face.
Instead, they all stare up at your crown. You’d been near obsessively careful with it on the journey back from the grounds and, when your handmaids had been helping you dress and fix your hair, you had insisted on being the one to handle it. When one of them had suggested cleaning it, to ‘make the gold shine, m’lady’, you had had to bite your tongue to hold back from lashing out in anger.
Gold isn’t the only color of my House, you had said, firmly and without room for doubt or misinterpretation. I mean to do them both honor.
The crown of golden, bloodied flowers sits on your head, pristine and perfect. It’s a clear message. It’s a loud message.
When you had greeted the royal family and Aemond had seen that you were still wearing it, he had very nearly smiled, his face brightening up - not to the point that anyone else would recognize but so glaringly obvious to you. The Queen and the Lord Hand had personally congratulated you and Aegon and Daeron had even toasted you. Their acceptance of you as a Queen of Love and Beauty along with your clear preference for one crown over another has essentially tied you to Aemond publicly even if no betrothal has been announced.
An understanding, indeed You think to yourself.
It was truly no wonder that the eyes of the court stayed focused on your crown rather than you yourself.
There was one member of the court, however, who was not staring up at the red and gold flowers. Instead, Erren Florent was staring right at you.
There’s no expression on his face. Not grief, not rage, not even annoyance. His face is blank, an expressionless mask, and it was all focused on you. He sits alone. His son and good daughter must have sat out to mourn in peace but he had come.
He had come to watch you.
His gaze is heavy, oppressive, but you refuse to let him see you flinch. Instead, you straighten up in your seat, throwing your hair back, and meet his eyes coolly. His gaze sharpens, cold and cruel, and you know that if he could, he would leap across the throne room and slit your throat himself.
But he can’t. Not here, in a room where the most powerful people were allied to you. It must rankle his nerves, agitate his very soul.
How hateful, you think, to have to watch your son die while the world cheers around you.
You’d feel pity if you didn’t already dislike the man. You’d feel guilty about his pain if you weren’t cautious about the look in his eyes; the wild, crazed, desperate look.
You and Aemond have made your beds and burned down any chance for anything resembling friendliness with the Florents. Now you would have to lie in it, in the ashes of what the two of you had done.
Erren finally looks away, turning his gaze to some poor well-wisher that’s approached him to offer his condolences, and you join your cousins’ conversation. Still, you remain sitting straight, your posture so perfect that you’re sure that your old septa is somewhere beaming with pride, lest he turn his stare back on you.
Your cousins are predictably talking about the tourney - they’re gossiping about the melee and all of the handsome knights that, while unable to win the event, had proved themselves to be skilled and capable. A few of the more confident ones scheme about how to bump into the knights to see if they could manage to coax a dance or even a tea out of them. All of them keep cooing over your crown, most of them tactfully ignoring the blood staining the golden roses.
Surprisingly enough, however, Jocasta is the only one to bring it up. “Our House colors,” she quietly murmurs, still skittish under your gaze. “The Gods must have blessed Prince Aemond so he could be the one to give you this crown.”
She doesn’t meet your eyes but you smile warmly at her regardless. She’s a sweet girl, after all.
The actual feasting part of the feast wraps up fairly quickly and, when the dancing begins, you excuse yourself from your family and walk up to the royal table. This time, no one stops you and no one gets in your way and, soon enough, you’re sliding into the chair next to Helaena, smiling at her and Aemond both.
An awkward silence descends on the three of you - you’re not entirely sure on how to act now, not in this new reality where your and Aemond’s intentions have all been laid bare. Hours away from any Targaryen have calmed your anxieties - he’d never have crowned you if he hated you for the truth - but now you’re unsure how to approach talking to them, unsure if you should bring up the rather big elephant in the room.
“Are you ready to spend all of tomorrow in prayer?” You ask Helaena, grasping for a topic to talk about, and she sighs in response, her hands coming up to play with the ends of her hair.
“It should be a nice reprieve, to be honest,” she says after a moment. “It’ll be quiet. Relaxing.”
You nod, finding that you agree. “It will be nice to get away from the chaos of the rest of the wedding. Pity that we’ll miss the archery event though - Tygett seems pretty confident that he’ll win in that event.”
“Is he a skilled archer or are Lannisters naturally inclined to succeed when there’s gold on the line?” Aemond asks drolly and you shoot him a glare, ignoring how your cheeks warm when he chuckles at your dark look.
“I don’t say why we would be,” you say in your most haughty voice, tapping your fingers against the table. “We’re already richer than every other House in Westeros.”
“There is no limit to Lannister pride or ambition,” he quips back and you preen. You had heard the phrase lobbed at your House in the past, usually used to insult or scorn, but coming from Aemond, it feels more like a compliment than it ever has in the past.
A companionable silence falls over the three of you and you turn your attention back to the throne room, watching as the court mingles. This late into the night, people are slowly drowning deeper and deeper in their cups and you begin to wonder how anything ever gets done. It’d be easier to list everyone who isn’t drinking and it’s nothing short of a miracle that people are able to wake up in the morning in order to even attend the wedding festivities.
You’ve never particularly liked alcohol and usually could only tolerate a goblet or two of wine before begging off and asking for water. Aegon seemed to be somewhat invested in getting you drunk at least once but, as you watch your father flirt with a coquettish Lady Tyrell as her increasingly annoyed husband stands at her side and watches, you wonder why anyone bothered.
“If the feasts are already like this, I can hardly imagine how the actual wedding is going to go,” you grumble and Helaena laughs.
“Aegon will start drinking tonight and he won’t stop until after the wedding. I’ll thank the Seven if he manages to make it down the aisle.” She says, amusement evident, and you turn to smile at her even as your stomach squeezes at her response.
She’s fine with it, you remind yourself, wishing that the reminder would bring you any comfort. He’ll keep to his practices and she’ll keep to hers. It’s duty. There’s honor in doing your duty.
Aemond sighs. “Aegon will be there, Helaena. I’ll personally ensure it.”
“No choice,” she responds, almost chirping. “No choice at all.”
You watch her, heart beating fast in your chest, before she shakes her head firmly. She blinks hard before rising to her feet.
“I’m tired,” Helaena says, not sounding very tired at all. “Shall we leave?”
“So early?” You ask, looking over her carefully as you rise to your feet, suddenly anxious that she’s grown uncomfortable and you haven’t noticed. “Should I inform the Queen?”
Helaena shakes her head again, smiling. “No. I’m sure Mother will understand - getting an early jump on prayer and contemplation and all of that. Perhaps we should head to the gardens, actually. Enjoy the night air.”
After a moment, you nod, glancing over to see if you can spot the Queen regardless. She’s with her father, speaking to Lord Borros Baratheon, her emerald dress making her stand out even deep in the crowd like she is. “Of course, Helaena. I imagine the gardens are lovely right now.”
“Either way, I’ll inform Mother. I’ll also let Lord Lannister know as well, my lady,” Aemond says, glancing at you, and you quickly thank him, giving him a small smile as he nods his head at you.
“Join us after, brother,” Helaena calls out after Aemond has already made his way down to the ground, and, though her brother made no indication that he heard her words, she beams as if he’s already agreed. She turns to you, light entering her eyes and making her seem more like the little girl the two of you used to be rather than the women the two of you were. “Shall we go?” She asks, holding out her arm for you to take, and, after a moment, you loop your arm with her, grinning.
——————————–
The gardens are, predictably, empty with not even a token servant wandering its grounds. The moment you step into the cool night air, Helaena pulls free from you and, tugging at her skirts from the side to pull up her gown, darts into the maze-like hedges, her long silver hair streaming in the air behind her.
“Helaena!” You call out, immediately chasing after her, but the princess only laughs, delighted. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the garden are her giggles, punctuated by your cursing at your own gown as it snags and snares on every stray piece of foliage you pass. Mercifully, she finally slows to a stop, near the paved terrace that overlooks the rolling waters of Blackwater Bay.
Helaena sits, perched on the wall that separates the gardens from the rocky cliffs that jut out beneath it, face turned towards the waters. Slowing to a halt, you stop next to her, trying your best to calm your breathing from the sprint she had dragged you on.
“Look,” She says after a moment, pointing out towards the rocky outcrops in the middle of the bay, far in the distance. You follow her finger, eyes straining against the dark, until it lights up like day.
There’s a brilliant burst of flame, bright and hot enough that you can feel the heat crash against your body as if it was a physical wall ramming into you. A massive body, larger than anything could have the right to be, crashes into the water, sending up a massive wave that could swallow most ships you’ve seen whole.
Vhagar is hunting.
You watch, mesmerized with wonder and fear, as she rises up into the sky, clutching a whale in her claws. It’s a colossal thing, big enough to seemingly drag Vhagar down back to its home in the deep, but the Queen of All Dragons is stronger than that. The leviathan is writhing in her grasp, fighting with all its might to escape, but Vhagar’s claws are longer and sharper than any spear any man could ever hope to hold. She curls her talons in and you can hear the whale’s wail even from miles away, can see the rivers of blood that fall through the air like rain.
Vhagar flies up, up, and up into the sky where even her tremendous size can appear small, disappearing into cloud cover. Even in the dark, however, the moonlight casts her shadow and she looks monstrous, even hidden from view how she is. You watch until you can’t anymore until she finally disappears into the inky darkness of the night.
“Where does she feed?” You ask Helaena, hands coming down to the wall so you can lean, pressing deeper in the cool air as if you’ll be able to see her if you stretch.
“At an island deeper in,” Aemond’s voice answers and you nearly topple over in your shock, spinning around to see him smirking at your surprise. Next to him, Daeron is pinned under Aegon’s arm, both seemingly trapped by his older brother and also being the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground. Aegon, for his part, looks mighty pleased, a wine bottle clutched in his hand.
Aemond walks closer, standing by your side and looking out towards the Blackwater. His eyes are focused, narrowed, and you get the idea he knows exactly where he’s looking at. “It’s a small island, past the spears of the merling king. From what I can tell, it used to be covered with trees but she’s razed most of it down to make her roost.”
“She’s far too big for the Dragonpit I suppose,” you reply, curling your fingers against the stone.
“She was too big a hundred years ago,” he hums. “Vhagar could fit - if she had any desire to. Once Balerion the Black Dread passed, she never returned to it. The island is her home now.”
You smile sadly at the thought of Vhagar leaving the Dragonpit forever once her brother had passed. Perhaps it hadn’t been her size that had driven her out but rather her grief. It seemed strange that such a creature, as ancient and destructive as she was, could feel such emotion, such heartbreak, but somehow that little detail has warmed you up to her more than anything else ever had in the years since Aemond has claimed her.
After a moment, you glance up at her rider. “How do you summon her?” You ask, feeling slightly embarrassed that the simple question had never once occurred to you in the near decade since Driftmark. Vhagar had always been an abstract figure in your mind - the prize that Aemond had bought with his eye. You had never stopped to think about the simpler details of her bond with the prince.
Aemond, noticing your sudden curiosity, gives you a half smile. “She always knows. My lady Vhagar will come flying if she senses I have a need for her. She’s always in my mind like I’m always in hers.”
You frown, looking back over the bay. Vhagar is no doubt far from here now but you can still see her in your mind: a massive beast that took up the entire sky. You wonder if, even as deep in her meal as she surely must be, she can still feel Aemond’s presence in her mind. “How does that work? What if you’re chilly one night and offhandedly think that you’d fancy a fire to keep you warm? Would Vhagar come bearing down on us and crush the Red Keep beneath her?” You question jokingly, laughing slightly.
“A dragon is not something you can call accidentally. You can try to summon one but it’s not some dog that’ll come running at your beck and call. Dragons will only serve those they want to serve,” his words are heavy with intent and, sharply inhaling, you meet his ever-watchful eye.
I’m afraid that I was onto you right from the start.
“Was I really that obvious?” You breathe out, heart pounding in your chest. Your voice is low, quiet enough so that the other Targaryen siblings, lost in their own conversation, cannot hear you, but he can hear you perfectly. The look gleaming in his eye tells you all you need to know. “How long have you known?”
He smirks in response, looking rather like the cat that finally caught his prey. “Since you arrived. Lannisters notoriously stick together and daughters of the Rock are usually treasured rather than shipped off. If your uncle wanted company from his family, he would have sent for some distant cousin or another and not his ten-year-old niece. You only would have come to marry and, with your family pushing for you to be Helaena’s companion, there were really only two real targets.”
You sigh, feeling your cheeks flush in shame and embarrassment. “Are you angry?” Do I need to apologize? Do you want me to spill out my heart here?
“After I got over the fact that a pretty girl actually wanted to spend time with me, I wanted to ignore you, but Mother made me promise that I’d give you a chance,” he says easily and you openly wince, feeling a pang of regret shoot through you. “You were difficult to avoid, however, always showing up at the library when I was studying, always willing to talk to me about whatever book you were reading. It wasn’t hard for you to worm your way into being my friend.”
You ruefully smile, shaking your head. “It wasn’t as if it was a chore, my prince,” you respond, the truth coming to you easily. “If I didn’t like you for you rather than the prince my father wanted me to claim, I wouldn’t have read nearly as many books as I did. I certainly wouldn’t have given you the sapphire necklace. That… It was the first gift my father ever gave me himself. During all my earlier name day celebrations, his gift would be mixed in with the ones from everyone else and sometimes he’d look as surprised as I was at whatever it was he had given me. I’m sure his old steward was the one always picking it out for him. But that necklace… It’s tradition, you see, in House Lannister, to give a maiden jewelry when she begins her search for a husband.”
“And you gave it to me,” Aemond says, no question in his voice - only the absolute truth of it.
“And I gave it to you,” you echo. “At the time, it was the only thing of value I could think to give you. That and my word. A promise from a Lannister is as good as any jewel.”
Aemond laughs at that. “Your word is as good as any jewel, my lady. Better even.”
You grin, relief washing over you when you realize he isn’t upset. “Perhaps. Maybe Lannister words aren’t worth as much as I say but all of us take our debts very seriously and your debt is mine.”
“And yours is mine,” he replies, as steady as the Red Keep itself.
I am yours and you are mine.
Before you can say anything, however, the too-familiar call of your nickname calls your attention and you look over to see Aegon waving his bottle of wine in the air, narrowly missing smacking poor Daeron in the skull with it.
“Brother! My shining Lady of Lannister! Come join us for a drink!” He shouts as if you’re across the Blackwater Bay itself rather than standing only a few scant feet away.
You can practically hear Aemond’s frown in his voice. “‘Join us’? You’re the only one drinking.”
Aegon laughs gleefully. “Come now, Aemond, we should be celebrating your victory! You may not be able to claim the true prize yet without bringing an entire kingdom down on our heads for defiling a lady of the Rock but you can drink!”
“He just wants to congratulate you,” Daeron rushes to say, no doubt recognizing the stormy look on Aemond’s face after Aegon’s less-than-subtle insinuation. “You’ve won a great victory and brought yourself much honor.”
“The hand will hold the iron,” Helaena sings even as she kneels down on the ground to play with a passing millipede.
“If you do not want a drink, though, it'd make you much more enjoyable to be with,” Aegon continues, shaking his head as he moves closer to you and Aemond. “Then your Queen of Love and Beauty will drink for you.”
You huff, sidestepping the bottle stretched out in an offer and gamely holding yourself back from smacking him away when his free hand reaches for your crown. “I thank you, Prince Aegon, but I’d rather not enter a full day of prayer and contemplation tomorrow sick from drink. I’m supposed to be praying for a blessed marriage with your sister after all.”
Aegon scowls at the reminder and you instantly wish you had chosen a different word to call Helaena. She’s his sister and his betrothed. Both are true no matter how much we all wish they weren’t. “If you’re praying for children for us, there’s nothing prayer could accomplish than a cask of the finest Arbor Gold could not.”
“Enough of that,” Aemond snaps, no doubt displeased with his brother’s blasphemy. “No one else will be drinking.”
“Daeron had a drink,” Aegon replies mutinously and Daeron’s eyes go comically wide. You laugh at his almost bug-eyed stare as you sink to the ground next to Helaena, sensing that Aegon will not allow anyone to leave before his fun is finished. Helaena beams at you as she grabs the millipede, bringing it up uncomfortably close to your face to show you.
“I had one,” Daeron hotly protests, no doubt missing how his older brothers, despite their discord, exchange amused glances at his overly forceful defense. “And you made me do it.”
Aegon grins. “I don’t know, little brother… You did trip on a rock on our way here.”
“Because you tripped,” Daeron shoots back.
“Mother would be disappointed to see how her baby dragon’s turned out,” Aemond says, voice as serious as if he’s discussing policy with the Lord Hand. “She had such high hopes for you.”
“But I-”
“I saw him wobble a little just now,” Helaena volunteers from the ground, not even looking up from the millipede crawling all over her hands.
Daeron whines, sounding like a little boy rather than the near-grown man that he was. “I didn’t!”
You grin up at him, shaking your head. “It’s alright, my prince. As long as you can hold your drink better than Prince Aegon, the Queen would find no fault within you.”
“There’s not much hope of that if he’s like this after one,” Aemond replies, quick as a whip, and even he cracks a smile as Daeron loudly protests his innocence.
The five of you stay in the gardens long after Aegon finishes his wine, basking in the glow of the moonlight.
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zweetpea · 6 months
Text
Kaeya Prince of Khaenri’ah 
Happy birthday baby 😚
(Listen if he doesn’t end up canonically being the prince then just consider this an AU. It already kinda is but… um… I suck at wording.) 
“The prince of Khaenri’ah will be arriving in Mondstadt tomorrow for trade negotiations.” Grand Master Varka explains to Jean, Lisa, Amber, Diluc, Eula, Albedo, Noelle, Klee, and you. “I want all of you to be on your best behavior.” 
“He means you and Klee.” Diluc looks over to you. 
“Hey! That’s not entirely fair. I’ve been keeping Klee out of trouble for months.” 
“Yeah! Miss Knight and I have been very good! I haven’t bothered big brother Albedo, I haven’t blown up any fish, and no one’s got mad at me and dodoco.” 
Varka kneels down to Klee. “We’re all very proud of you for that Klee but you need to be extra good okay? Mondstadt needs Khaenri’ah to help us out.” 
“Okay, Master Varka! Can me and miss Knight go fishing now?” 
Varka sighs and and smiles at her. “Okay, just be careful and don’t blow up anything.” 
“Come on you little pyromaniac. Let’s go get some fish.” 
“Yay!” Klee cheers and pulls you out of the Knights HQ. 
You two make your way down the street towards the front entrance of the city. On you walk you see a stranger at good Hunter. He had blue hair; tan skin; pants, boots, fingerless gloves, and a corset (all black); a short blue vest; a white shirt; and a fur collar with a cape attached. 
“Hmm, what should I get? Excuse me, I don’t mean to bother a beautiful woman but do you perhaps have any wine?” He asks Sara. 
“Oh, no, I’m sorry. We don’t serve wine here.” 
“Oh that’s unfortunate. I suppose it’s made up for by the fact that a stunning, kind, woman works here.” 
“Well aren’t you a charmer.” Sara smiles at him. 
“I just try to make people’s day.” 
“Excuse me!” You and Klee walked over to the man. He turns around and he has a beautiful blue left eye and his right eye is covered by his bangs. His face over all is ethereal. “Um, I, Angel’s Share is known for its immaculate wine. The Cat’s Tail also has some great choices of Alcohol apparently, I don’t usually drink but Crepus does enjoy their drinks.” You blush as this gorgeous man smiles at you. 
“Crepus? The owner of Angel’s Share and the Dawn Winery?” 
“Yeah, I helped him escape a Fatui Ambush a few years ago at his son’s birthday party.” 
“Interesting, so you know the Ragvindrs?” 
“Kinda, Diluc and I trained together to become knights. He’s very strong and incredibly and Crepus is so proud. I’ve only met the older Ragvindr a handful of times but he’s been like a father to me.” 
“Hm, you and this Diluc must be a very happy couple.” 
“Ew! Miss Knight would never be with that weirdo!” 
“Klee! Sorry about her. I try to teach her to be nice to the other knights. Diluc and I have a friendly rivalry so we send jabs back and forth and Klee can sometimes be defensive of me.” You smile politely at the cute stranger. 
“She’s very cute. Though she looks bit old to be your daughter.” Klee starts tugging on your sleeve. 
“Oh no, she’s not mine. I’m more of a nanny. I’m sorry to cut this short but Klee and I were heading to starfell lake.” 
“That sounds like a good time.” 
“Yeah, she likes catching fish and I sit and watch her to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself. Maybe you’d like to join us.” 
“I would actually, thank you. It would be my pleasure to entertain a woman as radiant and stunning as you. For all the stars beauty could never compare to the shining light of your eyes.” He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. Your heart is thumping wildly in your chest. 
During the afternoon you three play at the shore of starfell lake. Well Klee and dodoco play, you and this stranger (who you learn is named Kaeya) talk about life and your interests. He is an incredible charming man. 
“Wait so this Diluc guy got his vision on his 18th birthday?”
“Yep, because he helped saved his dad. I don’t want to brag but I did get my vision before him.” 
“So you mentioned before that you’re a knight. What’s that like?” 
“Well I’m the cavalry captain so I manage funds for the horses. I could take you to meet my horse Marshal. How long do you plan to stay in Mondstadt for? I’ll be busy this week because the prince of Khaenri’ah is visiting but maybe on my lunch break I could introduce you to be noble steed.” 
“I’d love to meet Marshal. Oh wow it’s getting late. I should head back. I’ll see you tomorrow miss Cavalry Captain.” He kisses your knuckles again and walks off. 
“I call dibs on being the flower girl!” Klee shouts and you blush fiercely at the implication. 
——
The next morning you get up and clean your, get on a professional but still combat oriented dress, and made breakfast then rushed off to work. 
As you got to the front hall where the other knights were waiting, you joined Diluc and Lisa in the corner. 
“Attention! Knights, I’d like to introduce to you all Kaeya Alberich, the prince of Khaenri’ah and his personal guard Dainsleif.” Varka announces.
You look over in shock and see the man from yesterday. He was dressed head to toe in whites and blues. White pants and shoes, a dark blue vest, light blue shirt and jacket with white fur on the bottom trim. He was decked out in sapphires, and his right eye was showing. It was a dazzling glowing gold. He’s so pretty. 
Oh yeah and there was a blue eyed blondie in black and blue armor next to him. 
— 
During lunch he came to your office and knocked on your door. “Hey cute stuff.” 
“Hey stranger, or would you like me to call you ‘your highness’?” 
(A/n: you guys don’t even know how tempted I am to have Kaeya say “I’d rather you call me your boyfriend.”)
“Kaeya is fine. Varka told me that you were on lunch break so I thought that we could go see Marshal. If you’re not busy, I understand if you are.” 
“I’d love to entertain a handsome charming man.” You smirk as you turn his words from yesterday on him. You pull him along and he starts idle conversation with you. 
“You have no idea how many times Dain had to stop me from mentioning you.” 
“I’m flattered.” 
“Well it’s not every day that I see someone who can rival the Archons beauty.” 
“You flatter me too much.”
You bring him to meet a white horse with brown spots around one eye and more sporadically around his back. “Hi Marshal!” You pet him. 
“He’s adorable.” Kaeya smiles. “Can I ask you something crazy?” 
“Go ahead.” 
“Will you be my girlfriend? Or at least let me take you out for dinner?” 
“I’d love to go on a date with my new boyfriend.” You say as you grab his hands and pull him into a short but intimate peck on the lips which he returns. 
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atopvisenyashill · 2 months
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dany and rhaenyra really couldn't be more different considering dany grew up in abject poverty and rhaenyra was constantly shielded by her status and name. for dany, her name was a death sentence, so they exist in totally different frameworks of what being a “targaryen” even means. it’s this vast difference in upbringing that informs how they rule as well with daenerys giving a lot of attention to how her actions/rule affect the oppressed while rhaenyra doesn’t particularly care about the common people at all!
I'm gonna do what we do at work which is start this out with a lil ground rules corporate talk thing: We assume positive intent as a starting place. I'm taking this in good faith and I hope if anon sees this, they take it the same.
So the first point - that because dany grows up in poverty due to being a targaryen and rhaenyra grows up in privilege due to being a targaryen, that means they are too different and thus can't be compared. Firstly, I think it's just a bit silly when people say stuff like this. Sansa's sexual abuse and isolation at KL isn't somehow less traumatizing simply because she had access to food (food she frequently doesn't eat, because she's traumatized over all the sexual abuse!) nor is Arya's physical abuse in the Riverlands somehow less purely because she had a handful of friends. Catelyn having a husband that loves and respects her doesn't mean that there are not similarities in her raging against the system that has turned on her with Cersei's own rage against the system. There need not be a one to one similarity in order for us to find commonalities in themes and I think this constant "you can't compare those two" just stinks of ~oppression olympics~ but oppression just doesn't work like a checklist and if you experience the required threshold of terror, you "get" to call yourself oppressed in some way.
Moving on, the thing is, both of them experience the emotional and sexual incestuous grooming from an older relative that goes with being a Targaryen:
He pushed back her shoulders with his hands. “Let them see that you have a woman’s shape now.” His fingers brushed lightly over her budding breasts and tightened on a nipple. “You will not fail me tonight. If you do, it will go hard for you. You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?” His fingers twisted her, the pinch cruelly hard through the rough fabric of her tunic. “Do you?” he repeated.
Daemon spent long hours in her company, enthralling her with tales of his journeys and battles. He gave her pearls and silks and books and a jade tiara said once to have belonged to the Empress of Leng, read poems to her, dined with her, hawked with her, sailed with her, entertained her by making mock of the greens at court, the “lickspittles” fawning over Queen Alicent and her children. He praised her beauty, declaring her to be the fairest maid in all the Seven Kingdoms. Uncle and niece began to fly together almost daily, racing Syrax against Caraxes to Dragonstone and back...Eustace, the less salacious of the two, writes that Prince Daemon seduced his niece the princess and claimed her maidenhood...The whole tale soon came out, in no small part thanks to Mushroom himself. King Viserys at first refused to believe a word of it, until Prince Daemon confirmed the tale was true. “Give the girl to me to wife,” he purportedly told his brother. “Who else would take her now?”
both of them also experience a much older sworn sword preying on their youth and fondness for him-
"What did she look like, your Lady Lynesse?" Ser Jorah smiled sadly. "Why, she looked a bit like you, Daenerys." He bowed low. "Sleep well, my queen." Dany shivered, and pulled the lionskin tight about her. She looked like me. It explained much that she had not truly understood. He wants me, she realized. He loves me as he loved her, not as a knight loves his queen but as a man loves a woman. She tried to imagine herself in Ser Jorah's arms, kissing him, pleasuring him, letting him enter her. It was no good. When she closed her eyes, his face kept changing into Drogo's.
Though many lords and knights sought her favor, the princess had eyes only for Ser Criston Cole, the young champion of the Kingsguard and her constant companion. “Ser Criston protects the princess from her enemies, but who protects the princess from Ser Criston?” Queen Alicent asked one day at court... However it happened, whether the princess scorned the knight or he her, from that day forward the love that Ser Criston Cole had formerly borne for Rhaenyra Targaryen turned to loathing and disdain, and the man who had hitherto been the princess’s constant companion and champion became the most bitter of her foes.
they are both forced into marriages they don’t want to be in-
Dany looked at Khal Drogo. His face was hard and cruel, his eyes as cold and dark as onyx. Her brother hurt her sometimes, when she woke the dragon, but he did not frighten her the way this man frightened her. “I don’t want to be his queen,” she heard herself say in a small, thin voice. “Please, please, Viserys, I don’t want to, I want to go home.”
"No." On her terrace, in her bathing pool, the little fish would nibble at her legs as she soaked. Even they kissed with more fervor than Hizdahr zo Loraq. "I do not love you."
And though His Grace reasoned with her, pleaded with her, shouted at her, and called her an ungrateful daughter, no words of his could budge her…until the king brought up the question of succession. What a king had done, a king could undo, Viserys pointed out. She would wed as he commanded, or he would make her half-brother Aegon his heir in place of her. At this the princess’s will gave way. Septon Eustace says she fell at her father’s knees and begged for his forgiveness, Mushroom that she spat in her father’s face, but both agree that in the end she consented to be married.
and start conflating violence, power, and safety in their minds-
The princess was not slow in answering this charge. She dispatched Prince Daemon to seize Ser Vaemond, had his head removed, and fed his carcass to her dragon, Syrax.
“He would make a monster of me,” she whispered, “a butcher queen.” But then she thought of Drogon far away, and the dragons in the pit. There is blood on my hands too, and on my heart. We are not so different, Daario and I. We are both monsters.
you say for dany her name is a death sentence, but for rhaenyra, being a targaryen is also a death sentence! not to "they very much killed jesus" you here, but they very much kill rhaenyra! if rhaenyra remains a “good targaryen” she is acutely aware she will lose everything, and this is something dany is aware of as well, it's why she reacts so badly to daario's "queens have no purpose but to warm some king’s bed and pop out sons for him" comment about her marriage to Hizdahr. rhaenyra's mother and both grandmothers die before they’re 25 of childbirth. rhaenyra grew up in the same court gael did, that saera did, that viserra did, likely knew the truth of what happened to each girl, and as a woman who is concealing her bastards, all of that has to terrify her. so she stays the “bad woman” the tyrant, the whore, the visenya, in an attempt to protect her children and that gets her killed. being a targaryen has devastating effects on both of them.
as for the differences in how they rule - i’m gonna be honest and say does it matter how they feel if the result is the same?
when they first come into true power, both women are more concerned with getting revenge than they are for settling the unrest-
“How many?” one old woman had asked, sobbing. “How many must you have to spare us?” “One hundred and sixty-three,” she answered. She had them nailed to wooden posts around the plaza, each man pointing at the next. The anger was fierce and hot inside her when she gave the command; it made her feel like an avenging dragon.
...whilst at the Red Keep Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen set about rewarding her friends and inflicting savage punishments on those who had served her half-brother...Henceforth, Celtigar decreed, traitors, rebels, and murderers would be beheaded within the Dragonpit, and their corpses fed to the queen’s dragons. All were welcome to bear witness to the fate that awaited evil men, but each must pay three pennies at the gates to be admitted.
both of them compromise on a stance that is integral to their whole platform-
Dany was shocked. “They want to be slaves?” “The ones who come are well spoken and gently born, sweet queen. Such slaves are prized. In the Free Cities they will be tutors, scribes, bed slaves, even healers and priests. They will sleep in soft beds, eat rich foods, and dwell in manses. Here they have lost all, and live in fear and squalor.” “I see.” Perhaps it was not so shocking, if these tales of Astapor were true. Dany thought a moment. “Any man who wishes to sell himself into slavery may do so. Or woman.” She raised a hand. “But they may not sell their children, nor a man his wife.” “In Astapor the city took a tenth part of the price, each time a slave changed hands,” Missandei told her. “We’ll do the same,” Dany decided. Wars were won with gold as much as swords. “A tenth part. In gold or silver coin, or ivory. Meereen has no need of saffron, cloves, or zorse hides.”
But the Queen’s Hand argued against this, for both girls had younger brothers. Rhaenyra’s own claim to the Iron Throne was a special case, the Sea Snake insisted; her father had named her as his heir. Lords Rosby and Stokeworth had done no such thing. Disinheriting their sons in favor of their daughters would overturn centuries of law and precedent, and call into question the rights of scores of other lords throughout Westeros whose own claims might be seen as inferior to those of elder sisters. It was fear of losing the support of such lords, Munkun asserts in True Telling, that led the queen to decide in favor of Lord Corlys rather than Prince Daemon.
both of them act vindictively and violently towards a low born woman in conjunction with stupid behavior from the violent men they’ve been groomed into loving-
Forgive me, sun of my life, she thought. Forgive me for all I have done and all I must do. I paid the price, my star, but it was too high, too high… “I thank you, Mirri Maz Duur,” she said, “for the lessons you have taught me.” “You will not hear me scream,” Mirri responded as the oil dripped from her hair and soaked her clothing. “I will,” Dany said, “but it is not your screams I want, only your life. I remember what you told me. Only death can pay for life.”
In a voice as cold as ice, she commanded Ser Luthor Largent to take twenty gold cloaks to the Dragonpit and arrest Ser Addam Velaryon. “Question him sharply, and we will learn if he is true or false, beyond a doubt.” As to the girl Nettles, “She is a common thing, with the stink of sorcery upon her,” the queen declared. “My prince would ne’er lay with such a low creature. You need only look at her to know she has no drop of dragon’s blood in her. It was with spells that she bound a dragon to her, and she has done the same with my lord husband.”
and I do think there is some similarity in the way that Dany sacks Astapor and it turns into a nightmareish ruin, and Rhaenyra lets KL fall into ruin as well.
you say rhaenyra doesn’t care about the common people but we don’t get her thoughts nor do we get the thoughts of a single person who is willing to tell the truth about her. both of our reliable sources hate her and mushroom is actively concealing things. we know dany cares about the smallfolk because we get her horror over drogon killing a child - only for her to forget that child’s name and decide the cost of her war doesn’t matter so much as taking her throne. this is the exact same moral justification rhaenyra is making - the safety of the people of KL are an acceptable compromise for her own throne.
what both of them want is less about the crown and more about what it represents to them. for dany, it’s home, belonging, love, safety, the simplicity of her life when it was just her, a viserys who had yet to lose his mind, and an aging ser willem darry. for rhaenyra, it’s the exact same - the simplicity of her life before aegon was born & her mother died, the love in her father choosing her over the men around him, the safety of her children. Both of them reach for violence to achieve those ends because they’ve been taught through a life of violence - albeit different sorts of violence - that force is the only way to protect yourself. And since Rhaenyra ultimately fails in her goal, I believe Daenerys will fail as well. Whether she’s smart enough to pull a Nettles and disappear (disappear not spread more violence ~liberating~ places that are not asking for her help or cultural arrogance) or if she, like Rhaenyra, will find that when she’s reached her limit, when she’s finally and truly lost, the door she thought she left open to escape through has been slammed shut behind her-
But it was not the plains Dany saw then. It was King's Landing and the great Red Keep that Aegon the Conqueror had built. It was Dragonstone where she had been born. In her mind's eye they burned with a thousand lights, a fire blazing in every window. In her mind's eye, all the doors were red.
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ria-writes-stories · 6 months
Text
So close yet not there
Ship: Vuzi
Genre: Glass
Description: Part two of the first Vuzi fic on this channel. Going brrrrrrrr, everyone go and thank @bladeubae for this fanfic, for one of their wips inspired me to write this fiction(make sure to give them and their work some love)
Observaton note: obviously Uzi doesn't know the earth is literally non-existent at this point
-----------------
(No one's pov)
Life, was such a strange and annoying thing. It brought you the greatest moments of joy in your most miserable state, and brought you the greatest of distress when you were finally having a peaceful period of time, but of course, it couldn't last. Nothing lasts. Everything shapes and changes. Everything takes a turn, everything has a different perpective depending on who sees it. Nothing can be destoryed and nothing can be created from thin air either, the energy all around us simply takes another shape, stuck in this infinite loop of nothingness yet everything.
Ever since that night, nothing was the same anymore. Uzi's thoughts were more troubled, she didn't know where to turn, and in a moment of weakness she crawled back to what she thought was best for her, for the simple fact that the one that truly saw her for who she was, in an act of mercy and desperation, tried to put her out of it all in the heat of the moment when she thought that the drone was no longer herself but someone else, a haunting presence from the past, a presence she refused to loose anyone else to it, even if it meant she would have to be to put them out of the misery that they were in.
V was truly terrified, and of herself out of all things. She didn't think of a hopeful solution, she didn't think Uzi could snap out of her murder rampage, she didn't think Uzi would wake up from her state, so she tried to save her, but truly, who was she trying to save? Uzi? Or herself? The moment when Uzi asked for N, V was convienced that Uzi most have truly lost herself in an unbearable insanity of agony and torture, for how else could she ask for the one that broke her heart the most when she was right there, ready to break her own soul to bits and dust in order to build the strongest defenses seen by this planet to protect her? It made no sense, not to V. Yet the fool who was unable to protect her from herself was now the knight in shinning armour, the hero, but he was neither, he was a prince, and like all cocky or foolish blind princes he was unable to see that he was not her salvation, but rather her doom. What has V done wrong to be tossed to the side again, like a pile of scraps and nothing more? The past didn't let her live her present, and her possible future chose her torment over her joy as the present was drowning in this foggy timeline, numbed by the pain and loneliness that it had to reside within.
Has she not done enough? Has she not fought enough for her love? For her safety? For her greater good? Had she not come all the way over here for her? Has she not held her tightly in her arms? Has she not done it all for her? And yet… "Yo, I ate them. I get hungry idiot." "Not calling names, just asking." After everything, she took the blame, she covered it all with a petty lie, held any possible consequence far away from her.
She seemed at peace, she seemed happy, or at least, relaxed, at least for once in her life, next to him, ever since that one night… She couldn't offer her that. It angered her, it pained her and it drove her to insanity thatthe stupid thing that made them reside by each other's side turned to be the same thing to pull them further apart than ever before. It was unfair, it was cruel, cold, painful, agonising, tormenting and heart shattering. Was she not worthy of her love? Or was it that she accepted reality faster than everyone else that pulled her away from her? Was it that life tossed her around so much that she ended up being ready to loose everything all at once instead of having to fight helplessly to keep it all and still be left with nothing despite her best efforts? Maybe she wasn't the right one for Uzi. Maybe she was never meant to feel this silly little things. But she asked Uzi…she begged her, not to do it, and yet…she still did. That tiny little push over the edge, over the brink of helplesness and look where she was now…
Uzi was afraid of sacrificing everything that she had again, so she had no clue that by trying to sacrifice herself only, she lost all that she tried to protect. V was a far away dream to her. How could she love her? How could she care for her? She just tried to kill her didn't she? Then again, Uzi wasn't herself either…she killed so many people, the bitter tasted of their oil on the tip of her tongue still. How could she blame V when in reality she held back. J had that electro-magnetic gun that took her out in the first encounter she had with the disassembly drones, meaning that V too had it, so why had she not used it on her? It would have bought her enough time to do the deed? Yet she didn't… V was intelligent, fast and skilled, so if she wanted Uzi dead she could have found alternatives, yet she didn't…because she didn't even truly consider these options.
So why did it hurt, when this foolishly annoying boy, refused to hold her hand? Why…? Maybe because Uzi saw him as the only vilable excuse and gate away to hide from the far more painful reality, for it was painful for the very reason that it made her feel alive.
"Nah. Uzi, I trust you." "V PLEASE! WE NEED YOU!" Uzi was in too much pain to even realise what was happening. V could have left Uzi to be killed by the sentinels, but she saved her, and her thanks? Uzi went ahead and hugged N instead? She flirted with him, held hands, tried to cheer him up instead of her. Was that all that V deserved after what she did? If V was truly upset with her, if she was truly wishing to pull Uzi to shreds, she would have done so already, she had plenty of possibilites… She saved her, she cared for her, in her weird distant way, fulfilling her duty of protecting her, even if it was from afar, for if the defenses fall right next to the protected base, how will those within the base have time to prepare for what's next if the threat is knocking right at their door?
V saved her, her and him, multiple times, and it wasn't for selfish reasons, it wasn't to use them, it wasn't to toy with them, it was all for them, and they? They ignored her, neglected her, hurt her, doing the worse possible to someone that cared for them so deeply and dearly.
You never know what you had until you loose it, ain't that right? That is what they deserved, after everything that she did, after every single struggle and ounce of heavy torture placed upon on her shoulders. She deserved to be freed of this mortal pains and struggles, and they? They deserved to rot with this aching pain in their hearts.
The moment Tessa was quickly out of view once the elevator reached it's end, Uzi grapped onto N tightly as tears steamed down her cheeks. V was dead. She was dead and it was all of her fault. She could have saved her. If only she would have listened, if only she would have paid more attention and if only would she have been there for her the same she was.
But out there, true torment appears, in the illusion of hope and salvation. In a cell, with her hands crossed upon her chest, rested the purest angel that this world had ever had the honor to lay it's eyes upon. A cell that was attached with wires and cables to keep it powered and in function. A cell protecting the one that couldn't protect herself. A cell that took care of the one unable to recieve all that she deserved.
"V!" Uzi said in a quiet whisper, unable to believe her eyes. Was this a trick? A hologram? A hallucination? Was V there but as a spooky hollow snake crab? She didn't even care. So what if she was? So what if this V that she saw was just a hologram of the one that was torn to shreds, looking to rebuild herself, of the one that was now anything but V? She didn't care. She refused to at this point. She lost her with all of her silly complicated thoughts of anxiety, and now when her peek of heaven appeared she didn't want to let the opportunity pass, even if it would cost her greatly, even if it would somehow mean that V's sacrifice was in vein, she'd gladly die knowing that the parts of her body would be used to rebuild her, knowing that this pitiful act of joy represented her remorse and gratefulness.
The shorter girl pressed her body on the glass almost as if trying to fuse with it just to get a tad closer to the drone. "Is this how J also came back? How do I get you out?" Uzi was still unsure how J returned… Did she come from earth or did she wake up in a capsule like this? Whatever the answer was Uzi didn't want to wait any longer, yet she was unsure of what to do… V just died, so how long would it take for this new body to recieve all of her memories? What if she won't recieve them at all? What if this is just an empty vessel and nothing more? What if it was just a carcas good for scrap that will never host the radiant energy of one of he strongest people she has met in her entire short tiny life?
As these questions filled her head, Uzi slightly backed away from the glass, but her hands remained glued to it as if a hex had been placed upon them. Uzi took her tail out and used it to light this casket made of glass, shining it to see her better. She didn't look in pain, she didn't look troubled, she looked like she was resting, a sweet painless and proper rest. One from which she would wake up from with refreshed batteries, ready to take the world on again, as if it was just yesterday that she first opened her eyes.
Maybe she should let her rest…
'ERROR ⚠'
That is all that it took. A flash of light, a sudden boost of energy through the carcas, activating it's system, or at least trying to.
Words could not describe in a million years the horrible ache that had stabbed Uzi right into her soul. The joy, the pain, the agony and the distress. V was waking up, or at least she was trying to. After falling like weak prey, while sacrificing herself like a true hero, she was still fighting. Fighting for her. How foolish Uzi was, to not accept this kindness that the universe has blessed her with. To turn it down in fear of breaking it instead of just accepting it like it should.
A desperate scream left her mouth as she felt no control of herself just like back in the cabin. Her wings spread widely and her claws grew sharper and pointier, trying to claw at the glass, to penetrate and open it. Whatever the error she could fix it! Even if she didn't have her joystick she still would be able to do something. Anything! She could help her, she could finally help her. She could show her regret, her grief.
Everyone talks of how the scream of a mother in pain is worse than any blood curling scream and shriek that the world has ever heard, but no one tells you how such a deed only happens when the true selfless genuine love of one's heart and entire being is involved for otherwise there are plenty other mothers who do not even look at their children.
And so here was Uzi heard from every corner of this lower chambers, of this underground hell. From trapped sentinels to anything else that breathed and moved, all stopped in sync as the agonising scream filled the echoes of these walls, leaving no room for anything other than a sudden rush of arenaline and panic, as a far more dangerous being has entered the realms of this hidden world, and now more than ever, it's desperation made it worse than anything else that could have place foot in this cursed place.
All that would go against this shriek would fall apart, tore to shreds and turned into utter nothingess, so all unwillingly bowed their spirits in fear as the pained scream punctured all of one's senses to the brim, leaving space for nothing other than the same feeling that the source provided. Agony.
Gripping onto the glass and banging her fist on it's surface did not budge the imprisonment of this angel. She was alive, she had to be, for otherwise this vessel that so closely resembled her wouldn't have had a spark of anything in it without her also being there.
She had to break her free, she had to let her out to breath the air, as cold and as miserable as it was, she had to let her see the world again. It was her right, it was the least that she deserved, to live, and to be able to feel alive, and Uzi wasn't going to leave, not until she was out, not until she could hold her and told her all the words that her core trapped within itself by the command of her system, dooming those words to be foolish and useless, now none will be in it's way, for all that was left of the brinks of sanity was gone, now filled with one thing and one thing only, desperation.
Desperation like no other. She would tear to shreds anything that would dare approach her. She would stay there until the cursed mechanisam opened and let Uzi catch V in her arms like all the other times V carried her burdened heart all alone. She will hold her tightly and she will help V heal, she will make sure she is there by V's side just as she was. Uzi will keep her close and she will let V know with all the last days, hours, minutes or seconds that she has left, that she recognises all that V had done for her, and that she will never again in her life do anything to make this most blessed angel of all feel as if it was all for nothing and in vain. Sge will love her, she will stay by her side, and she will not let even death itself have the last word in it. She would make sure to do everything, anything and more to achieve this goal. Starting from this very moment, without a further a do or a moment of hesitation in her judgement.
The end
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genz420 · 5 months
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Beauty of Scars & Flowers - Chapter 5: Sacred Places.
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The throne room within the Red Keep was not as great as the one in Harrenhal.  Lyanna had come to that conclusion.  The Hall of a Hundred Hearths could be called a ruin, but when all hearths were lit, their warmth would make up for the drafts that wisped through the hall.  But the great hall was underwhelming, small, and the air stiff.  The pungent smell from Blackwater Bay made its way into the room just as it did in every other place in the Red Keep. Lyanna still had not grown used to the smell, yearning for the scent of ash, earth, and freshwater that Harrenhal had throughout. 
Yet all the lords, ladies, and young knights in the great hall did not seem to hold the same thoughts as she.  They all kept their attention on Otto Hightower as he sat on the Iron Throne with smiles on their faces, happy to be welcomed in the hall.  But Lyanna wasn’t happy. She didn’t like King’s Landing.  She missed her home, the smell of nature, and the people of Harrenhal she called her family.  
Lyanna let out a small huff; she couldn’t help but wonder if she could sneak out of the hall and try to find Helaena to spend the day with.   But her uncle wouldn’t be pleased with her doing that. He is the reason why she isn’t spending the day with her friend.  He had insisted that Lyanna stay in court all day to try and catch the eye of a lord or knight so that she could return to Harrenhal and no longer be his responsibility. 
Aemond didn’t know why he couldn't keep his gaze on his grandsire.  Usually, when audiences were being held, he would take a break from whatever he was doing and stand by the throne to listen and watch his grandsire act on his father's behalf.  Yet his gaze drifted away from his grandsire and Riverland lord, who was complaining.  It kept drifting towards the soon-to-be lady of Harrenhal.   
He noticed how she rocked herself on her feet, how her gaze darted to each face in the hall and towards the pillars in the room.   How her eyebrows were pulled together, meaning she was in thought about something.  
She would have the same expression while she read, Aemond noted.  
Aemond didn’t fail to notice that today, she was wearing a blue dress, the same strong blue he could remember from his childhood.  A colour he thought he disliked, but he did not mind it on her.  
Aemond did not mind that she was adapting the styles of the other ladies of the court.  Wearing her hair in the same southern style as the other ladies, he couldn’t help but wonder if she would soon wear the same green dresses that ladies often wore to show their loyalty to the throne. Lyanna had made it a point to wear browns, yellows, reds, and now blue.  But never green, even if it was one of her house colours. 
Aemond rolled his shoulders and puffed out his chest as he looked back toward his grandsire. It was inappropriate for him to be looking at her for so long.  He reminds himself that.  He reminded himself that he was a prince of the realm and should not be staring at a lady for so long.  Yet, as Aemond looks up to his grandsire, he can’t help the feeling that he should take one more peek at Lyanna. 
With one eye scanning around the hall, Aemond noticed that no one was looking at him; instead, they were watching the argument or talking between themselves in hushed whispers.  No one would see if he slipped away from his spot and made his way down the sides of the hall to stand elsewhere. 
Lyanna moved her weight from one foot to the other as she watched the people around her.  Her eyes scanned each face in the room as she tried to remember everyone's name and title, a fun game she would play with other ladies at Riverrun or the Twins.  She only knew a handful of people in the room, and the suffocating feeling of loneliness and falsehood crept up from her stomach and into her chest.  
Across the hall stood Ser Alan.  Dressed in his house colours, his short curls were not as neatly put together as the prince that loomed over Lyanna.  Yet Lyanna's heart yearned as she watched Ser Alan whisper in the ear of the lady he stood behind.  Not even hours ago, she was in the same position as that lady, giggling and blushing as the young knight spoke quiet words that only she could hear.  
Lyanna is no fool; she knows that she and Ser Alan were not betrothed, but a small part of her had hoped that she was the only lady that he was interested in.   Yet if only Lyanna turned her head towards the man standing beside her, then she would see how he studied her movements and face like it was a piece of artwork he saw for the first time. 
The young prince couldn’t help but take note of the defeated look on her face as she watched the pair across the room.  She quietly huffed through her nose before strengthening her back and releasing her clenched shoulders and jaw like she was resetting herself.  
Aemond lets out a low hum as he turns to watch his grandsire.  Lyanna snapped her head toward him, nose scrunched up as if she had just smelled something rotten.  A cute expression, Aemond determined.  Yet his face still held the cold expression he had mastered long ago. 
Lyanna couldn’t help but feel like the prince was trying to gain her attention.  Yet, as she watched him and noticed his eye was not focused on her, she wondered if she was going mad and just imagining the sounds he usually made.  
Lyanna straightened her back and licked her lips before she chose to break the silence. “Is something the matter, my prince?” 
Aemond moved his gaze back toward Lyanna, and part of him was happy to see that she was already looking at him.  Aemond hummed before speaking, “Nothing at all, My Lady Strong.” 
Lyanna nodded before turning her head back toward Otto Hightower.  If anyone were to look at them, they would only see the prince standing a little too close to a Lady he is often seen spending time with.  
Aemond looked away from Lyanna and back to the Riverland lord, who was throwing a tantrum.  As he tried to focus on what was the matter, he could only take note of the faint smell of flowers and a hint of spice.  The scent was as faint as the forget-me-nots that Lyanna had pressed for him and Helaena.  
“You’re from the Riverlands,” Aemond said the words as if they were more of a statement than a question.  
Both of their gaze stayed away from the other, doing their best to appear to be paying attention rather than engaging in conversation.  But as Aemond broke the silence between them, Lyanna leaned slightly more toward the prince.  The distance between them was becoming smaller and smaller.  
“I am,” Lyanna whispered back to Aemond; her response was enough for the prince to lean closer to her. Close enough for Aemond's shoulders to gently graze the back of hers.  
“Why is Lord Bracken often here, nanging about something the young lord Blackwood has done?” Aemond asked her in the same low whisper.  
“It’s hard to say why; this feud goes back to when they were kings and queens, before your family conquest, before the Andals.  Blackwoods and Brackens will hate each other until the end of time. And each house has a version of why it started,” Lyanna answered the best she could in a few words. She could go on about the feud between the two houses for hours, and there would probably still be something she left out.  
Like most of the Riverland nobility, she favoured the Blackwoods as opposed to the Brackens.  
“It’s foolish,” Aemond commented, keeping his gaze forward.   He supposed he did not understand just how far back the feud goes.  He had read every history book he could get his hands on, yet the history of the first men and the history before the Andals were not interesting or even considered studying.  
“I suppose, but it’s part of who they are.  Rooted in the very foundation of their houses,” Lyanna continued, now allowing Aemond's coldness to stop her from talking.  “They are raised to hate each other.  Hatred like that can’t just end because a king demands it,” 
Aemond looks at Lyanna, taking in her words as she watches the Bracken complain.  She was right; if someone is raised to hate another being, it won’t just end because someone demands it to.  Aemond looks away from Lyanna, realising he has been looking at her far too long.  Even just leaving his regular place and choosing to stand by her was already a risky move.  He could play it off that he is keeping his sister's friend company.
“I heard that Lady Alysanne Blackwood has grown tired of the feud and is now spending her time in the Twins with the new Lady Frey,” Aemond breaks the silence, causing Lyanna to snap her head towards him.  Mouth slightly agape as he spoke, as if she did not expect him to know that.
Aemond does not know why he said that. There was a good chance that Lyanna knew Alysanne Blackwood and that she would not humour such rumours.  But that is one of the few things he knew about House Blackwood or House Bracken, hearing the rumour from both his sister and younger brother. He just wanted to give a contribution to their dying conversation, to keep Lyanna talking to him rather than going to watch the people around them.  
“My prince, I do not think this is an appropriate thing for us to talk about,” Lyanna whispered back to him, shock still on her face as she tried to take in what Aemond had said. 
“I did not take you as someone who did not gossip,” He comments; he knew that Lyanna does gossip.  He overheard her tell Helaena many of the old and new rumours she had encountered.  
“I did not take you as someone who does,” Lyanna shot back.  
She and the other ladies she had talked with thought that the one-eyed prince was a man a few words.  They would say that he would rather just stare and use his eye to talk than his words.  Many of the ladies she has met in her short time would often go on about how to catch the prince's gaze.  How handsome he looked without the eye patch he often wore.  Even rumours that, unlike his elder brother, he did not need to visit the streets of Silk to find a woman to warm his bed. 
But none of the gossip included how he, too, took part in talking about the people around him. 
“People talk.  I listen.” 
“Do you wish for me to talk?” Lyanna asked after a moment of silence.   She turned her head to the side, not looking at Aemond, but the movement allowed him to see her face and the look of concentration on it.
It would be no different than her and Helaena talking over tea or wine.  The only difference would be that Aemond was a prince and not a princess. For all she knew, Aemond enjoyed gossiping with everyone.  But the truth was that the prince only talked to people outside of his family and close circle at feasts or because his mother would make him. That Lyanna was the first person, outside of his sister, that he has talked about the rumours of court with. 
“I do not hate when you do,” Aemond answered her after taking his own pregnant pause of silence.  
Lyanna nodded as she looked around the hall, trying to choose what rumour she would share.  She didn’t want to appear rude but also wanted to disappoint the prince by not sharing something.  Her gaze eventually landed on a trio: two young knights and a lady.  The lady, Talla, had an extravagant shawl thrown over one shoulder that hid her midriff and chest, a fashion statement that she claimed would soon catch on, but most knew the truth as to why she suddenly chose the new article of clothing.
“Do you know why Lady Talla has chosen to wear that ridiculous shawl?” Lyanna asked Aemond as she nervously smoothed down the skirt of her blue dress. She was worried that someone might overhear her and the prince. 
Aemond looked around the hall, settling on the Stormland Lady and the two young sirs who stood close to her.  The prince let out a low hum, telling Lyanna to continue. 
“She is trying to hide a swelling belly; thinks that the shawl will take attention away from it, but I just think that it makes it obvious she is trying to hide something,” Lyanna continued in a quiet voice as her gaze flickered between Aemond and the group she was talking about. 
Aemond nodded along with the words before he leaned closer to Lyanna, close enough for her to feel the warmth of him and his smell.  Closer than they had ever been before.  Close enough for a few whispers to start around the hall, but neither of them cared. 
“I often see her and Ser Rycherd walking together,” Aemond added, hoping to keep the conversation going.  
“And Ser Henly,” Lyanna quickly added; the two of them looked towards the two men behind Lady Talla, and Lyanna didn’t miss the look the two men gave one another. “Sometimes all three of them walk together, I hear,”
Aemond hummed at the revelation, thinking it over and wondering where Lyanna had heard such things.  He doubted that she heard it from Helaena, and as far as he knew, Helaena was Lyanna’s only friend at court beside him. 
“I was hoping that a duel might happen in the training yard,” Aemond said as he turned to look at Lyanna.  She had a smile on her face and her cheeks slightly red.   “Would have been good fun to watch,”
Lyanna couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped as Aemond finished talking.  She quickly bowed her head down to hide her face as her hand covered her mouth and the noises that were trying to escape.  
The actions were enough for Aemond to smile slightly, but the feeling of onlookers caused Aemond to look away from the giggling lady and around the hall towards a few older couples whispering and looking at them.  
That was enough for Aemond to straighten his spin and take a small step away from Lyanna.  Putting distance between the two of them.  His action pleased the onlookers because they turned back to look at his grandsire.  Once Aemond was sure no one else was looking at him and Lyanna, he returned to his previous spot.  
Aemond watched as Lyanna did her best to compose herself, but it seemed that she could not contain her laughter as her shoulders shook.  Aemond rolled his shoulders as Lyanna finally calmed down. 
Aemond knew that after the audience was finished being held, Lyanna would either find her way to Helaena or might even be convinced to join Ser Alan for a walk around the gardens.  It was a 50/50 chance that he wouldn’t be able to spend the rest of the day with her, a chance he didn’t want to take.  
“My Lady Strong, have you visited the Dragonpit yet?” Aemond whispered.  
“Princess Helaena has asked me to accompany her,” Lyanna answered without thinking.  She had no desire to visit the dragonpit besides the fact that Helaena wished to show her the dragon she had bonded with.    “Why, my prince?”
“You could accompany me today,” Aemond offered her, a sure way that would make sure the two of them spent the rest of the day with one another and allow Lyanna to see the true strength of the house of the dragon. 
The question caused Lyanna to turn her head towards Aemond, her hair flying over her shoulder and her eyebrows pulled together.  Aemond kept himself composted as Lyanna looked at him with a shocked expression.  
“You want me to accompany you to the dragonpit?” She asked, her voice loud enough for the people surrendering them to look and judge.  
Aemond looked away from Lyanna and toward the people now staring at them, two youngsters with stern expressions.  
Aemond nodded his head now in apology before he placed his hand on Lyanna’s lower back, gently guiding her away from the crowd and toward the giant pillars in the room.  If Aemond had only looked toward the throne, he would have seen his grandsire watching him and Lyanna with a puzzled expression. 
Once they were in the darkness and quiet behind the pillars, Lyanna turned to face Aemond.  Leaning against one of the pillars with her hands behind her, the action was so quick it left Aemond’s hand that was on her back in the air.  
“I don’t think my uncle would allow that,” Lyanna told Aemond, a worried look on her face.  
In truth, Larys would be more than happy to allow Aemond to take Lyanna to the dragonpit.  But she was scared.  Scared because she had grown up at Harrenhal, a clear reminder of what the beasts were capable of doing.  
Aemond hummed as he walked to stand in front of Lyanna, looking down at her as he hummed in response.  He wasn’t going to force Lyanna to the dragonpit, but he still wanted to share that part of his life with her.  
The two of them had spent hours in the Godswood reading with one another, and Aemond knows that to Lyanna, the Godswood is the most sacred place for her.  He might not follow the gods of Valyria, but he knew that it might impress her for him to also share something sacred with her.
“There is another way of seeing a dragon without the danger,” Aemond told her, slowly thinking of his plan.  “If you would accompany me,”
Lyanna nodded, and Aemond offered his arm for her to take.   Aemond knew that the two of them should stay in the great hall and wait for the Bracken lord to finish his rant, but he feared that the lord could go on into the hours of the night.  
Once Lyanna took his arm, Aemond guided them toward the doors.  He was glad they had been kept open, but he still knew that remours could spark why the two of them were leaving.  
But the most judgmental gaze came from the man who sat on the Iron Throne.  Otto tuned out the lord speaking and focused on his grandson and the lady on his arm.  
– –
Aemond kept glancing at Lyanna as they descended the stairs; he noticed how she held up the front of her skirt rather than holding onto the rail beside her.  Perhaps she felt that Aemond would prevent her from falling more than the railing, or maybe she did not wish to bruise the prince's ego by taking her hand off his arm. Whatever her reason, Aemond did not mind, for it kept her hand gripping his arm.  
As the two of them got closer and closer to their destination, the air grew cold and still.  The freshness of cold water was a welcome smell to Lyanna, and the pungent smell of Blackwater Bay was left in sunlit corridors. 
The worry that someone might have seen the two of them sneak away was slowly being replaced by anticipation of where Aemond was taking her. 
Once the two of them reached the bottom of the stairs, Lyanna gasped and removed her hand from Aemond's arm.  Moving towards the giant Dragon skull that hung from the ceilings with a bed of candles under it.   
Lyanna couldn’t believe what she was seeing; the warmth of the candles in front of her reminded her that she was not dreaming.  She had heard stories about Belarion but always thought they were over-exaggeration. However, she might think they were under-exaggeration.  
The skull was a smooth black, and its teeth were longer than her arm.  The dragon could undoubtedly eat her in one bite if he were still alive.   
He didn’t know why he brought her here.  He rarely came down to the skull, but maybe he just wanted to show Lyanna a part of his own culture.  He also doubted Lyanna would want to spend time in the Sept. 
Aemond walked past the threshold of the stairs and toward Lyanna, who stood in front of the skull.  He chose to stand beside her, resting his hands on the pommel of his sword as he looked between Lyanna and Belarion. 
Aemond didn’t believe the sight before him, the way that the flames from the candles danced across her face and reflected in her eyes.  The candle flames made her eyes look like flames, and the smile on her face warmed him. 
“It’s hard to think that one creature could do such damage,” Lyanna spoke up, her eyes dancing all over the skull, trying to commit every detail to memory just as Aemond was doing with her face.  
Aemond let out a hum as he turned to look at Belarion. Vhagar was getting close to his size, and Aemond hoped his dragon could last longer than her male counterpart.
“Are they just as scary in person?” Lyanna broke the silence as she quickly took a glance at him before looking back at Belarion. 
“I wouldn’t say they are scary,” Aemond told her.  
Sure, when he was younger, the dragons did scare him, but once he was bonded with Vhagar, that fear turned into appreciation, and now he could see the beauty of one of the most destructive creatures to grace the realm.  
“Just as big?” Her tone told Aemond that she was jesting with him, but he still held his stoic expression.  
“No,” Aemond answered as he looked back at Lyanna.  “Vhagar is the closest,”
The mention of his dragon sent pride flowing down his throat and into his chest—a show of his greatest accomplishment and greatest sacrifice. 
“Your dragon?” Lyanna asked, even though she already knew the answer.  
The smile that graced her face was enough for one to creep onto Aemonds.  He nodded yes as he turned to look at the skull, hoping that turning away from her would be enough to hide the smile. 
“My dragon,” Aemond confirmed, and Lyanna hummed as a comfortable silence fell upon them.  
Lyanna and Aemond stood in silence, with Lyanna turning back to look at the skull.  To imagine what the beast must have looked like when he was in his prime.  When the dragon flew above the gods eye and used its black flames to melt the great castle, she had lived her whole life.  
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logo-comics · 6 months
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No, but....Fortune Lover: The Nutcracker DLC? 😯👍Ballet/Classical Dance DLC? 🥹🙏 Yes? Please?
...Swan Lake????? 👀
Technically speaking, if we fuse The Nutcracker with Swan Lake, we get Princess Tutu... Since 'Tis The Season, let's do two different DLC setups. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!
Ladies, Gentlemen, and Everyone Else, Christmastime is here, and we here at Ai Fortuna Software have been working hard to present you with the Ballet Bundle, two brand new DLC for the price of one!
And yes, Katarina fans, she is romanceable in both!
Presenting:
Fortune Lover's Nutcracker Sweethearts DLC
&
Fortune Lover's Enchanted Swan DLC
Nutcracker Sweethearts DLC:
Welcome to a Sorcier that you've never seen before!
You play as Maria Campbell, the lucky winner of a prize presented by the inimitable toy and magic tool maker Larna Smith,herself: a nutcracker and a collection of toys!
And that night, when the magical becomes the fantastical, is naturally where the tale begins.
Meet the Capture Targets:
Geordo: Reimagined here as The Nutcracker Prince whose heart is frozen, no doubt because of the Mouse Duchess, who has cursed him into this state. Can you crack open his shell and warm his heart?
Alan: The Toy Soldier Prince in this setting, he's steadfast and brave, and willing to do battle with the mouse army. Can you make his tin heart beat?
Keith: The Porcelain Playboy is how he's described, and his appearance and manners match it! Can you find the soft center of his heart?
Nicol: The Sugarplum Knight, he's the beautiful escort of his darling sister, Sophia, the Sugarplum Fairy. Can you charm your way into his heart?
Raphael: The Jack-in-the-Box, he's been in service to the Mouse Queen against his will for some time. Can you get him to open up and let you into his heart?
And here, we have a surprise, as Mary and Sophia are romanceable in this one, and have their own reimaginings!
Mary: The Tree Angel, betrothed to Prince Alan, she sees over all from her noble perch! Will you make the climb and win her heart?
Sophia: The Sugarplum Fairy, she is shy and prone to referencing stories she'd read in the past, as well as being a talented dancer. Will your offer of a pas de deux be the right step towards dancing your way into her heart?
As a bonus, Alan and Mary's routes are the only two that aren't mutually exclusive.
Finally, allow us to introduce the strangely beloved villainess:
Katarina: The Mouse Queen in a broken engagement with the Nutcracker Prince Geordo, you can wage war against her, or you can approach things in a... diplomatic manner, romancing her to the light!
The choices are yours and yours alone in Fortune Lover's Nutcracker Sweethearts DLC!
Enchanted Swan DLC
Welcome to the Sorcier Academy of magic, but not the one you know! You play as Maria Campbell, secretly the Queen of the Swans, recently escaped from the clutches of the Marquis Dieke and his family and cursed to transform into a swan in the moonlight.
The curse, however, has its limits, and can be broken by true love's kiss and a declaration of love! Can Maria win the capture targets before she's discovered?
Introducing new gameplay mechanics:
Swan Shenanigans: Get revenge on your bullies in the middle of the night in your swan form!
Pas De Deux: Dance with your chosen partner to build up affection points!
A Dark Secret: Avoid alone time with the student council president! While you never saw him while you were there, he might figure things out. If you pull it off and romance him, you get a special achievement.
Unmask The Impostor: The Diekes have sent an agent to try to prevent Maria from breaking the spell, which would give her the ability to also name who her captors had been. The girl Sarah has been transformed to look like Maria, the only noticeable difference being mannerisms and eyes. Expose her to avoid complications with the spell!
Join Maria as she tries to overcome her curse and find love!
...Why is Katarina Claes helping her? What does she know, and why is she being so helpful? Play the game, romance the characters, and find out in Fortune Lover's Enchanted Swan DLC!
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leedamandy · 2 years
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Aemond Targaryen x fem!OC (blonde strong) / Aegon II Targaryen x fem!OC (blonde strong)
°• Hēnkirī •°
(Together)
Part 2
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A soft gurgling sound jolted Mhaenyra from her fitful sleep. It sounded like a dragon. She listened into the darkness, unsure if she had imagined it while half asleep.
Dragons had always been particularly fascinating to her. Mhaenyra had been denied the wings of a dragon by the gods for 16 years now. Of course, she had been given an egg. This one never hatched. She lived with it and it hardly bothered her. At least that's what she told herself.
Again a plaintive cry in the firmament! The young girl stood up briskly and made up her mind to accept the prince's invitation. She wanted to ride on Vhagar.
With a queasy feeling, she braved through her chambers and dressed. A dark, almost black dress with silver embellishments at the waist. Over it a cloak, held together by heavy chains at the chest that looked like dragon necks. She braided her long hair into a loose side braid and stepped confidently out the door. Ser Oats, her guard, seemed to awaken from his trance and looked at Mhaenyra, visibly shocked. "Princess, please return to your chambers. It is very late at night and-" "Thank you Ser Oats. I admire your loyalty and protection. I will go for a walk, my mother need not know of this. No harm will come to me." The knight's gaze grew uncertain, not wanting to let her go alone. "I will come with you, princess." "That will not be necessary, Ser Oats. Thank you. I wish to be alone. I will be back soon. You will stay here until then." "As you wish, Princess." His words were followed by a curt nod on his part.
Mhaenyra strode through the keep, enjoying the quiet of the night. She turned left, then right. Then left again.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, something heavy laid over her shoulder from behind and squeezed her mouth and nose shut. Adrenaline shot through the young woman's petite body and panic crept up inside her. She was pressed against something warm and hard behind her, feeling trapped. Her heart hammered in her chest and she grew incredibly hot. Why hadn't she listened to Ser Oats?
"Be still!"
They were whispered words, close to her ear that should have eased her panic. Prince Aemon's voice, she could recognize it. However, this fact simply did little to alleviate her excitement. With one of his strong arms, he spun the young woman around without loosening his grip, making sure through intense eye contact that she would not scream. The prince removed his hand from Mhaenyra's face, who immediately gasped audibly. She snatched herself from his grasp, breathing heavily, and bent forward. Then she looked at the clearly amused, grinning Aemond with her evil eyes. "Don't look at me like that Princess, I had to make sure we weren't exposed."  His grin widened, the longer Mhaenyra took to collect herself. "I might have been scared but I wouldn't have screamed. Don't do something like that again! Never again!" Admonishingly, annoyed, she held her index finger in Prince Aemond's face. "Of course, forgive me, dearest niece." His smile did not disappear, and Mhaenyra noticed that it did not reach his eye. "You looked incredibly beautiful. With my hand on your sweet face and your big eyes full of fear." The Velaryion instantly averted her gaze. A shiver ran down her spine. She suddenly felt uncomfortable. "Come. I'll show you Vhagar." His hand, which had been blocking Mhaenyra's airway earlier, now grabbed hers and pulled her along briskly. Aemond walked with long strides along several paths. Some secret and narrow, some led through gates and across streets. The young woman let it happen, not wondering how he could use these paths and shortcuts without being seen. She thought of her options in case of emergency. Would he kill her? Himself or would it be done by his dragon? Did he even want to kill her? Could she stop him? Maybe poke out the other eye? She cursed herself for not taking her small knife with her. The one Ser Harwin Strong had given her. Her mind was foggy with the questions that were bouncing around in her head. After what felt like an eternity, they arrived at a large green area. They stood side by side and looked out over the meadow. Vaghar had settled down on it. Every time she saw it, this dragon impressed Mhaenyra, just by its size. When Vaghar shook her head, swinging it back and forth in the air, it triggered a breeze that resembled strong wind.
The young princess watched the colossal dragon with shining eyes. A strange giggle from Aemond snapped Mhaenyra back to reality. She only now realized that their hands were still intertwined. As she tried to untie her hand, Aemond ran off again, pulling her along with him.
"Care for a ride?" Closer and closer they came to the huge creature, which sniffed skeptically at first, but then lay down quietly. "Vaghar seems tired, we could go at another time-" "Nonsense. Vaghar will love it when you ride her." His words sounded kind, his look on the other hand was.... Final. She had no choice, for she did not want to find out what this man was capable of. "Alright, my prince... How will two of us ride her?" And again, a creepy, too-wide grin graced his full lips. "Come."
The Targaryen helped her onto Vaghar's broad back. "Slide forward as far as you can and hold onto this..." He pointed to the fastenings of the saddle. "...Hold on tight." "And if Vaghar flies too steeply?" She asked anxiously. Aemon's soft laugh echoed through the air. "That's what I'm here for, Princess."
He sounded amused as he sat close behind her, grabbed her hips, and roughly pulled her closer to the lower half of his body. He ignored her surprised gasp and his arms and hands then settled over hers. He squeezed her legs with his. His sudden closeness and smell, made Mhaenyra nervous. Her breath quickened and she didn't know what was worse, the behemoth beneath her that was about to sweep her mercilessly into the air, or the figure behind her that held her in a very personal position that would leave her no way out of it. All of this gave her a tingling sensation. A forbidden feeling. "Gaomagon ao feel ȳgha sir, dārilaros?" (Do you feel safe now, princess?) He whispered the last words lustfully in her ear. Breathing more heavily, Mhaenyra only nodded. The whole situation overwhelmed her. She couldn't see his grin as he lifted his head, made sure his fragile niece was safely in front of him and could hold on, and prepared for his next command.
"Vla!"
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Part 3 (Smut)
Part 1
Thank y'all for reading, liking and reblogging:')
lets all wait for the new episode*-*
-LeeDaMandy-
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devskindawritingblog · 3 months
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Princess!Taissa x Knight!Van
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AN: ( please read) ok so this has been something I have been working on for a little bit now. Me and my wifey @schrodingerspsycho were talking about masquerade balls and I knew I had to write something for Tai and Van about it. Historical is in quotations because I suck at it. It’s set in the 1800’s because it’s the height of like masquerade balls but the characters don’t necessarily talk like the 1800’s I tried my best. But I didn’t do much research. With that being said this fic is not based on homophobia during that time because it’s about queer people going to a masquerade ball and I don’t want to write homophobia. There is pressure for Taissa to marry a man but no direct homophobia.Also if you haven’t read my Taissa Turner Christmas fic. I have two like “oc’s” who are Taissa little brother and sister named Tegan and Tyler so I brought them back for this fic, just so no one is confused.
Summary: Taissa is a princess, the daughter of the king and queen and she needs to find her match. Her parents hold a party for her and a certain knight catches her attention. Basically princess!Taissa and knight!Van🥰. Also I’m using they/them pronouns for Van.
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Taissa Turner is the daughter of the royal family. The next in line for the heir. She was going to rule the kingdom one day. Her mother and father have been preparing her ever since she was old enough to talk; now it is her 18th birthday party. Her parents had been trying and trying to find her the “perfect match." They decided to have a masquerade ball. If she was going to have to find her match soon, she would much rather choose for herself.
Her siblings were rather pleased with that idea. The twins have been excited to go to a party ever since they were old enough to attend the balls. They both got outfits made and were ecstatic all week. Taissa, of course, had a gown made for the night; it was her party after all. She got fitted and tailored a beautiful deep forest green dress. It complimented her wonderfully, and somehow it made her look even more stunning.
The night had finally come. Tai was in her room, wearing thedress. Her mother had come by to do her hair, and she was just waiting for it to start. She was very nervous; she was trying to find which jewellery to wear and trying to distract herself. She was actually doing neither; she went back and forth a few times on which earrings. She finally settled on some simple studs that matched her dress. Now her distraction was gone, but before she could stress more, her siblings ran into her bedroom.
“Tai! Tai!” Tegan yells, running up to her sister.
“Mama said the guests have arrived.” Tyler adds as they tug on her arm, pulling her out of her chair and onto her feet.
“Alright, Alright. First, let me put on my shoes.” She smiles fondly at the twins' overwhelming excitement. She slips on her heels and buckles up the straps. Her siblings rush out of the room, running down the hall to the ballroom. She takes one last look at herself in the mirror and makes her way down to where the ball is taking place.
The ballroom is immaculately decorated. Taissa glances around the room; some of the guests have already started to file in. Many from out of town, longtime friends of her parents, travelled to come to her birthday. It's nice to see, but so overwhelming. Many older women dressed wonderfully come over to her to fawn over her dress and inquire about her "prince.”
She politely nods to every reference made to their “perfect” son, who would absolutely be the best for her. She knows there's no need to explain it to them, so instead she trudges through the 15th “perfect” prince. Taissa knows what she wants, but will she really find her “prince” at this ball?
She walks around for a bit before her siblings drag her to the dance floor. She dances with them for a while before the twins get bored and run off to cause a little bit of trouble. Taissa walks over to a table to hopefully get a second alone from all the stress. 
Something catches Taissa’s eye—a certain guest. A person across the floor had gorgeous ginger hair and a sleek dark green suit, almost the same shade as Taissa's. Their mask is beautiful, a lovely green that matches their suit. Tai recognizes them immediately as one of the knights who has been working in the palace. Van... they were hired a few years ago. Strong…. Brave…. Noble…… Handsome…… Cute…… “Stop it, Taissa! Focus on your night and not on their face.” Taissa shakes the thoughts out of her head as her little sister runs over to Van, grabbing them by the hand and tugging them down so she can whisper in Van’s ear. 
As the little girl pulls away, Van smiles and nods a little nervously before Tegan runs off. Van brushes off their suit as they make their way over to Taissa. Tai’s eyes widen as she fixes her dress and avoids looking at Van. She hears a familiar voice clear their throat and looks up to see Van standing before her.
Van looks even better up close, a small smirk spreads across their face as they give Tai a little formal bow. Taissa smiles fondly at the knight's formal behaviour, even at a party.
“Good evening, my lady. A little birdie told me that you wanted to dance.” Van says with a soft smile playing on their lips.
Taissa smiles back, grinning a little. “You know how to dance, knight?” 
"No, but I'm a fast learner, and I know you can dance. The royal family's eldest daughter, you know how to waltz.” They shoot Taissa a smirk and again bow and hold out their hand in the hopes that she will take it.
Tai smiles fondly and takes the knight's hand as they help her up and guide her to the ballroom. Many other young couples are dancing and enjoying the night. As they make their way, Tai can't help but admire the fiery-haired knight. She always thought highly of them and spent many nights thinking about them, though she was more embarrassed to admit it.
Tai feels the heat rise in her cheeks; somehow, she is getting hotter and hotter by the minute. She can see that the redhead is also very flushed, yet they still seem pretty confident, having never danced. They end up in the middle of the floor and turn to face each other. Tai smiles and places Van’s hands in the correct place, whispering little tips to Van so they don’t completely make a fool of themselves.
They start to waltz. Tai takes the lead; it's not normally traditional, but she couldn’t possibly care, not right now. Van is very stumbly and trips over their feet a few times. Tai fixes it, shooting them a smile. They giggle quietly together as Van tries to “dip” her. Van saves it and spins Tai around before pulling her back in. They laugh and dance together for quite a while until they both get tired. Tai drags Van off the ballroom floor and over to the table.
Most of the guests are on the floor now, and a soft song plays as couples waltz. Tai looks over and finds her siblings also dancing with their mother and father. She smiles fondly and looks back over at Van, where she finds them staring at her with a certain look in their eyes.
“What's on your mind?” Tai asks, shooting them a teasing smile.
“That was fun; I got to dance with the most beautiful girl at the party.” 
Tai feels her cheeks heat up considerably as she tries to hide her embarrassment with an eye roll. “You're unbelievable.” 
“What? Am I wrong? They smirk leaning over a bit. “You look really gorgeous tonight.” They say it a bit quieter, almost hesitant to say it. 
“Thanks; you look really handsome tonight.” Tai says, smiling as she sees the heat rise in Van’s freckled cheeks. They try to brush off their embarrassment. "You probably get compliments all the time, young princes, trying to win you over.”
“Sure but the conversation usually turns into them bragging and being arrogant.” Tai says, scoffing at the memory of earlier. “There is only one person here tonight who is actually worth talking to.” 
“Who?”
“You”
“What? Me? No, I can't even dance. I'm just a knight; I'm no prince, not even a man.” Van is very confused.
“That's why I like you so much. You're not a man. You’re not arrogant or putting on a show for me. You're just you, and that's a breath of fresh air. Sure, you’re an awful dancer, but you're so caring, sweet, optimistic, and...handsome.” Tai says, and she finally looks up at Van; she can't quite read what they are thinking. 
“You think I'm handsome?” Van smirks, laughing a bit. Tai gets embarrassed as she gives Van a little shove. "Yeah, I do.” Tai smiles, taking their hand and pulling them a bit closer to whisper. “Why don’t we go for a walk then? It's more interesting than this party.”
Van smiles and stands up, holding out their hand for Taissa to take yet again. She gratefully accepts, and Van pulls her to her feet. They quietly slip out a back door into the beautifully lit garden. They hold hands and walk together, making jokes and enjoying the star-filled sky. Tai pulls them over to a little bench in the corner of the garden. They sit down together on the bench, both a little giddy. 
Taissa smiles and plays with Van’s suit. “This is so charming, I hope you know.” She says, and Van smiles, reaches up, and takes off their mask. “Come on, take off yours as well; it's not fair, really. I want to see all of your face.”
Tai sighs softly, the smile still on her face, as she removes her mask, and Van gasps a little, grabbing her hand. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
“You are so beautiful, breathtaking even.” Van says, leaning closer. 
Taissa freezes, her eyes a little wide, almost stunned. “You’re an idiot.” 
“But I only tell the truth.” Van says, leaning a bit closer. Taissa glances down at their lips and finally pulls them into a kiss. Van gasps a bit before melting into the kiss and wrapping their arms around her neck.
They both pull away so they can breathe, their foreheads touching as they stare into each other's eyes. “You're breathtaking too, Sir Palmer,” Tai says with a teasing tone before Van cuts her off, pulling her back into a kiss. Tai’s hands run down Van’s back as she pulls them closer and deeper into the kiss.
The both of them freeze as they hear footsteps and the garden door open. They quickly stand up, hiding behind a nearby tree. Van pulls Tai into their arms; they are chest-to-chest pressed against the tree. Tai peeks out of the tree and sees a drunk couple stumble through the garden as they finally stumble back through the other door. Tai leans back to see Van as the both burst into giggles together and pull each other back into a kiss. Tai leans into Van, pressing them back against the tree.
They both pull away as Van presses one final kiss on Taissa’s cheek, making her smile. They take each other's hand and go back to walking around the beautiful garden together. As the night ended, they had to part ways, but since that night, nothing has been the same. Taissa has taken up a new “hobby” of watching the knights train, well singular knight. 
Van starts to catch on after the princess has been interested in what the knights are doing three times in one week. They always send her a little smirk as they train. The two of them have gotten closer over time, too. Lots of “walks” in the garden and sneaking off together in the library. Her parents noticed too, not that they cared much. Van was one of their best knights, humble and kind. It might not be common for a knight to marry into the family, but it didn't matter. It was clear that Taissa and Van were meant for each other. 
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see-arcane · 1 year
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This made me realise that Mina uses "my __" a lot (my Jonathan, my beloved husband, my dear one) compared to him doing so no wonder she'd be not pleased if someone tried to snatch him away
The thing about Jonathan and Mina is that they are both very much more than the standard 'in love' with each other that you'll see in a lot of Mandatory Love Interests in media. They're not just in love.
They're in crush.
They're in infatuation.
They're in 'my beloved is all that matters and dear God I don't know how I got lucky enough to win the romance lottery to convince them I was worthy, but I will spend every second of every day trying to earn that love.'
The main difference lays somewhere in--sigh along with me--the gender politics of it all. Because the thing is, even if we barely squint at the time period (and, sadly, even at our modern relationship pitfalls), Mina is very, very aware that, by partner standards, she is the one who got the 'luckier' pull. Specifically because Stoker wrote Jonathan as the rule-breaking, love worshipping, refusing-to-other or abandon champion of a Prince Charming out of the whole cast; and possibly out of most male romantic leads in the era's literature, Period.
Meanwhile, despite Mina being very much her own breakthrough of early feminism and interesting traits--again, sighing over the New Woman commentary, but still--when we look past the unique/strong/smart character facets, we really see a lot of the Classic Darling Female Love Interest formula at her core. She is sweet and caring and loving and loved.
As all good non-hag non-femme fatale characters were at the time. You can't throw a rock in Victorian and earlier lit without hitting a similarly winsome young lady. They pop up like charming weeds.
It's Jonathan Harker who stands apart. Jonathan Harker who loves unconditionally, who does not conform to classic masculine heroism, who would fight God and the Devil to hold his beloved above all harm, who would damn himself, who would kill and die to keep his beloved safe and happy. Who would--gasp!--rather be equal with his partner, even preferring to let her take the lead!
Which was un-fucking-heard of at the time. Even if she/Stoker weren't really caught up on what New Women actually stood for, I'd bet money that Mina knew exactly how rare a prize like Mr. Harker was in a sea of brutes and cheats and general misogynistic louts looking for a housemaid they could imprison with a wedding band and belittle on a daily basis before they go out to meet mistresses 1-3.
Mina is not an idiot. Jonathan is not either, but I think he is blessedly naïve enough to think there was anyone else in the world who would champion Mina as much as he does, as much as she deserves. She's Mina, for crying out loud! An angel! A goddess in and of herself! Who wouldn't adore her as he does? And to Van Helsing and the Suitor Squad's credit, they do come close, risking what they do...
But they do make that murder oath.
And for that, Mina is grateful. She did ask for it.
But though she never writes it, maybe only rarely dares to even think it--such a blasphemous, selfish thought!--she is doubly grateful that Jonathan never swore with them. Proof positive, that. Somewhere in her, a secret proud voice whispers:
Look, Mina Harker née Murray. Look at the paragon among lovers you have tricked into loving you and being your knight. You have wed Eros himself, lucky Psyche that you are. He does not even realize what a treasure he is. The one treasure that matters. The one which evil powers have tried so hard to steal away. Do not let them, Mina. Let them have gold and magic and your own blood if they must, but never, ever him.
So yes.
All this in mind, it is very little wonder that she enjoys referring to Jonathan as my husband, my love, my darling. My, my, my, mine, mine, mine. Hearing and saying it is a reassurance that she has not woken up from this sweet dream. Just as I'm sure Jonathan saying the same--or else repeating Mina's name like his own prayer--reassures him. They are real, they are in love, they are each other's.
And so when someone like Miss Helen Penelosa comes along and Mina catches wind of her plans for Jonathan, I can't not see her loading that revolver.
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balmacedapascal · 2 years
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the one she chose | aemond x helaena
(this is supposed to take place some point before episode eight, not at any point in time in particular. targaryen typical incest is referenced so if that's not for you, dni. simple as that.)
It wasn't uncommon for Helaena to receive her brother in her chambers at least once each day. It simply wasn't the brother most would expect to visit. On the rare occasion she and Aegon found themselves alone together it was almost always when he was deep in his cups, words slurring and feeling some desire to fulfill his marital duties. Those times had always been few and far between and since Maelor had been born almost nonexistent. She had never complained. Wedding Aegon had been her duty and she'd done so without complaint. But sharing his bed regularly had never been a desire of hers and she'd always been grateful he seemed to feel the same.
No, it was Aemond who found his way to her rooms most days, whether it be the sitting room to break their fasts together or the bedroom where he'd crawl in behind her and hold her in a tenderness she'd not known from any other. It was Aemond who would join her as she sat with her children, not necessarily affectionate but attentive enough in his own way. And it was Aemond that she gladly claim as a lover, the one she'd discovered her desires beyond simple wifely duties with.
It was midday when he came to her chambers, dressed in a velvet doublet with his hair tied back out of his face. She sat curled on the lounge, the soft breeze coming through the window behind as she made slow work of the embroidery in her lap. It had been several years since the guards had announced Aemond's presence when he would arrive, the prince entering with little pomp and making his way to where she sat.
"You smell of the training grounds," she said in lieu of greeting, eyes still on her stitches as the needle wove its way through the fabric. She could feel him sit next to her, the cushions shifting under his weight and her body leaning into his side naturally. "Did you make a mockery of every knight currently in the Red Keep or did some of them get to keep their dignity this morning?"
There was a gentle touch at the nape of her neck, calloused fingers playing with a strand of her hair lazily. "Ser Arryk found himself in the dirt and Ser Criston lost his morningstar but the others were left alone today," he answered, not trying to pull her from her stitchwork, simply watching the motions of her hands. They'd shared many a quiet moment like this one, had since they were children and keeping company with one another while the mother fussed after Aegon.
The silence settled between them, an old comfort they'd both been fond of for year. The fingers in her hair twisted the strand one way and then the other, her side pressing more and more into his as her head moved to rest on his shoulder. It was a comfort that made her wish, not for the first time, that Aemond had been betrothed to her those years ago. It was a warm blanket of ease that made the world a simpler place for her.
"Let's visit the dragonpit," Aemond said after they'd been sat together for some time, finally pulling her attention from the stitching as she glanced up at him. "You know Dreamfyre misses you and it's been too long since you've been in the skies. It's a clear day and the air away from court would do us both good."
"You know Mother will have words for you if you fly Vhagar anywhere close to King's Landing. The smallfolk fear her more than the others."
"Come with me and I can worry about Mother later," he argued, giving her hair a playful tug that pulled a crooked smile from her lips. "Come. I wish to see you on dragonback, Hel. It's always a sight to behold."
"Fine," she answered, setting her embroidery to the side and pulling herself up off the lounge. Her hand outstretched to him which he took without hesitation, standing with her and leading them both out into the corridor. "But when Mother comes harping about keeping peace with the smallfolk and not terrorizing them like the dragonlords of old, you shall deal with that and I shall leave you to her wrath."
"Whatever my lady desires," he teased back, a quick kiss pressing to her cheek as they made their way down to the dragonpit.
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lyerra · 4 days
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lately I've been travelling a lot. spending lots of time in trains and stuff and apparently it gets me thinking!!
so everyone please get ready for what no one asked for:
post canon Rita/Estelle headcanons
okay so like
this is mainly stuff I thought about why trying to come up with design ideas for them
which I did not
but I got a few pretty cool ideas that I think would be nice to share
Rita: okay maybe this one is strange idk? but I really see post canon Rita leaning into her more feminine side!!! why?
she likes cute things
she likes being called cute (by Estelle)
she literally lives with Estelle now and I think Estelle would defo get Rita to try cute clothes and accessories
I don't think this change would be too sudden because she'd probably be scared of people not taking her seriously, or worried that the clothes look "too cute for someone like her" but she'd eventually try it and it made her really happy... and with Estelle's support it would be easier as well!! The clothes would still be comfy and practical enough to fight in and do science in though
Yuri or Judith might tease her about it but Estelle would NOT let them and make them apologize lol
I also really like the idea of Rita growing her hair out and trying different hairstyles and stuff... like maybe she kept it short because it got in the way and it was a pain to take care of it properly but Estelle taught her simple and cute hairstyles to keep them out of the way
which leads us to another point! I think Rita living with Estelle in Halure actually forced her to do self care. Simple things like eating balanced meals, taking breaks, getting sleep at regular hours, seeing her friends, touching grass, getting a bit of sunlight, looking after her health... like if you think about it Rita is literally an orphan who lives alone and a workaholic. I don't think she knows how to take care of herself properly and doesn't like it because the time she spends doing these things is time she doesn't spend working
however Estelle is not having any of it and Rita finds out that she's much more effective in her work when she's well fed, well rested and overall not feeling like shit (and it's not like she can resist Estelle for long)
Estelle: Estelle would be pretty much the opposite. I think she would slowly let her more adventurous side take over and let Yuri's personality rub off on her just a tiiiiny little bit. Of course, she would also stand up for herself and become known for her bravery across the empire, not just her kindness, and maybe become a figure for the emancipation of women.
because Estelle seems to love novels with knights and princesses in it, consider this:
since obviously by this point we know Estelle doesn't have fantasies of dating a dashing knight or prince, what if she had a fantasy of being one?
(this idea is definitely not due to me having bi panic whenever I see Estelle in her theater costume btw!!! definitely NOT)
Sooooo prince aesthetic Estelle!! Boyish, but elegant clothes suited for following her best friends into whatever weird adventure they get into, something that won't make Yuri go "this doesn't suit you either" (not that we care about what he thinks, smh)... something with boots and pants but also a frilly shirt and pretty earrings... something heroic and handsome... *sighs*
at first I thought about her wearing her hair like her theater costume would be cool but then I thought that maybe it wouldn't go well with other outfits (I don't see Estelle entirely giving up on girly outfits either) so maybe longer hair that could be pulled into a low ponytail or a braid in a way that's very gender
ANYWAYS these are my thoughts. yeah
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foxglovethicket · 1 year
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Seven Hundred Letters
To the High Queen of Elfhame,
Above me is the same silvery moon that shines down on you. Looking at it makes me recall the glint of your blade pressed against my throat and other romantic moments.
Summary:
Lady Asha can’t burn the letters the High King never sends.
Cardan’s POV from the end of The Wicked King through Queen of Nothing, ft. kingly pining and dozens of discarded letters shoved to the back of his drawer.
Chapters: 10/10
Read on AO3
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Chapter 1
“And today I will dispense justice. Jude Duarte, do you deny you murdered Prince Balekin, Ambassador to the Undersea and brother to the High King?”
As I speak, I try to seem the composed, haughty king I am meant to be, but my eyes are alight with excitement. I know Jude sees it, because her voice comes out careful and uncertain in a way I have never heard from her.
Still, she lifts her chin. “I do not deny that we had a duel and that I won it.”
Such careful words from a mortal girl who grew up surrounded by warped speech of the Folk.
I pull out the silence, stretching it until it thins and I can feel the Folk around me begin to shift in excitement and anticipation.
“Hear my judgement.” My words echo obscenely in the hollow air of the brugh. I can feel Jude’s fawn brown eyes searching my face, trying to anticipate what I am going to say, trying to get her footing. It takes everything in me to keep my voice to a lazy, regal drawl and hold back a smile as I damn her. “I exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world. Until and unless she is pardoned by the crown, let her not step one foot in Faerie or forfeit her life.”
I stare at her, waiting for her to get it. Surely, any second, she’ll realize my careful wording. But she only stares back at me, long enough that I start to feel uncertain. The Folk around us are eating our duel up with beetle eyes and sharp teeth.
“Of course I can,” I say, slowly, confused. Why isn’t she calling my bluff?
“But I’m the Queen of Faerie!” she shouts, and I let out a breath. Finally. I wait for her to go on to pardon herself, to laugh, to acknowledge my cleverness.
But that’s all she says.
After a beat, the brugh erupts into laughter. I’m still staring at her, puzzled, when her eyes turn red and rainy. When I finally begin to laugh along with them, it is more in disbelief than anything. Come on, Jude. Play with me.
After a beat, the brugh erupts into laughter. I’m still staring at her, puzzled, when her eyes turn red and rainy. When I finally begin to laugh along with them, it is more in disbelief than anything. Come on, Jude. Play with me.
After a beat, the brugh erupts into laughter. I’m still staring at her, puzzled, when her eyes turn red and rainy. When I finally begin to laugh along with them, it is more in disbelief than anything. Come on, Jude. Play with me.
After a beat, the brugh erupts into laughter. I’m still staring at her, puzzled, when her eyes turn red and rainy. When I finally begin to laugh along with them, it is more in disbelief than anything. Come on, Jude. Play with me.
After a beat, the brugh erupts into laughter. I’m still staring at her, puzzled, when her eyes turn red and rainy. When I finally begin to laugh along with them, it is more in disbelief than anything. Come on, Jude. Play with me.
She doesn’t. She keeps staring at me, full of fury and hurt, as a pair of knights drag her down from her horse and I start to panic. It wasn’t supposed to get this far.
“Deny, it then!” she screams at me. “Deny me!”
I couldn’t, even if I wanted to, so I say nothing. Some part of me is still waiting for her to pull out her trump card. Or at least try to fight back, to push me and pull my hair and hurt me for how I’m hurting her. I think my uncertain smile is still twisted on my face as she glares at me with all the hate she’s ever held for me, that I’ve ever deserved, and more of it.
I am still confused when Sir Rannoch takes her away. When the mocking laughter of the Folk fades from my ears as I stare out at the new island I’ve drawn from the sea. When I start to think that maybe this is Jude’s way of punishing me after all—leaving me when I so desperately wanted her to stay.
***
My first day without Jude is unbearable.
She plagues my thoughts, as always, but it’s worse now, because I thought for one beautiful minute that she was mine, that she would stay. For one minute, she was my queen, and I was enough, and I wouldn’t have to do this alone. But she left. Like everyone does.
Locke suggests a revel, to celebrate getting rid of the girl of dirt, as he calls her. He congratulates me on my cleverness and says things like finally, and thorn out of your foot, and now you can be a proper king without all of her diplomatic fussiness in the way. Why did you keep her around so long, anyway? Taryn keeps her eyes down, but I think they are red and puffy.
I wave my hand dismissively at his proposition and he throws one anyway. I have to go, for appearances, but the mischievous eyes of my subjects burn my skin like iron where they land.
I miss Jude.
I drink. A lot.
Somewhere between then and now, I stumble down the halls, hopefully heading towards my rooms, when a very displeased Lilliver finds me and leads me… somewhere. What part of the castle am I in, anyway?
Her eyes are hard and her arms are stiff when she opens my door for me and practically shoves me inside. I fall onto the packed earth floor by the foot of my bed with a grunt of pain. The Bomb doesn’t move to help me up. I deserve worse.
“Goodnight, Your Majesty.” She makes to leave.
“Lilliver,” I mumble into the floor. She pauses. “Why didn’t she come back?”
“Your Majesty?”
“Jude,” I say. “Why didn’t she come back?” The earth is wet beneath my face, for some reason.
The Bomb pads over to me so silently that when she tugs my arm to get me up, I flinch in surprise. “You exiled her, that’s why,” she says shortly, practically throwing me onto my bed.
“But she was supposed to come back. She was—” I retch, and Lilliver takes a hasty step back. “She could have come back. But she hates me. And now she never will.”
The Bomb throws a metal bucket at my feet with a clang. “Sleep well, Your Majesty.”
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