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damn-stark · 3 months

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Chapter 9 Pure as The Driven Snow

Chapter 9 of Moonlight

A/N- We’re back with new chapters! I hope you guys like it. I got real nervous writing this. I don't know why! Also is it a sign that your dragon likes your lover more than your husband?

Warning- some swearing, talks of pregnancy, Angst!, fluff, hunting SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- After 1x10 & before 2x01

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS AGO*

“Dragon fruit for the dragon Princess?”

“Pearl necklace for the Siren of Driftmark?”

“Oranges? They are good for a growing babe.”

You touch your 6-month-old swollen belly and come to another stop in front of a stand to study the big round oranges stacked so neatly on the crates.

“How much?” You ask the vendor.

The man puts his hands on his hips and studies his fruit for a moment before facing you. “Discount for you Princess. 5 Silver dragons.”

You glance at Aemond, and he makes his hesitation known before handing you your pouch of money. He doesn’t find this trip necessary, he says that whatever you want can be brought to you right away, especially because you’re with child, but, being stuck in the same rooms all day is torture! You told him the baby and you would go mad while batting your eyelashes really sweetly and he hesitantly accepted without a fight.

“I’ll give you 10 golden dragons instead of silver,” you tell the vendor as you get out the golden coins that make the man’s eyes almost pop out of eyes. “Find good use for it.”

The man shares a nervous laugh and takes the money, but holds your hand before he steps away and bows his head. “Thank you, Princess. Thank you, may the gods bless you and yours.”

You offer him a kind smile, and then gently pull away to pick the oranges, but he suddenly blocks the oranges with his hands. “No, these are no good. I have perfect ones. Juicy and sweet.”

He crouches and pulls out a box from under the table and hands it to you. Albeit before you can even reach for it, Ser Criston takes the box for you.

“Have a nice day, sir,” you direct at the man before you continue down the street lively with people.

“<He ripped you off you know,>” Aemond grumbles in High Valyrian so the people around you wouldn’t understand him.

You scoff softly and hook your arm around his. “In Winterfell, Lady Arra, and Lord Stark treated their people like they were friends and they got respect.” You sigh and shrug gently. “Of course, I know not everyone has good intentions, but Lord Stark taught me how to read people. I try to use his advice when talking to people here, it is why I know this guy was no trickster.”

Aemond hums in comprehension but doesn’t actually agree or take in what you said. You may be down amongst the people, but he’s in the clouds where he’s untouchable. The only thing that matters is your mention of Lord Stark.

“You and Lord Stark are close friends?”

You don’t remove your hand from his arm even if you’re tempted to, you don’t let your eyes flicker even if you have the burning need to look away to hide the truth. You keep the faint smile that decorates your features and keep looking around. “Well considering I lived in Winterfell for five years, yes, we are good friends. Or were.”

“You don’t write?” He probes and keeps his focus on you to try and watch for anything that might give you away. “You often get letters from Winterfell.”

There’s no excuse for a lingering silence, you can’t breathe a certain way because he’s paying close attention, so you turn your head to meet his gaze and share your rehearsed lie. “Sometimes, but I talk to someone else. A lady friend that lives in the castle. One of late Lady Arra’s friends.”

Aemond holds your gaze and tries to pick up on something just a hair out of place, but you keep composed well and he goes unaware once again, letting you let out a small breath and smile with relief.

“I won’t go poor by giving these people something extra. Bless them and the gods bless you. Lady Stark would say that.” You return the subject to what you were previously talking about. “Besides I actually got a craving for oranges. Or the babe did.” You grin and touch your belly again, feeling a small movement now that makes you giddy.

“Feel,” you beckon Aemond and snatch his hand from his side to press it against your small belly. “He’s moving.”

Aemond comes to a stop in the middle of the street and caresses your belly very gently, letting you watch his blue eye soften, and those thin lips show a faint smile.

And since it took him no time to show his affection or his bliss you can’t help but grin in awe before you slide his hand to the other side. “See?” You interject softly. “He wants oranges.”

A wider smile tugs on Aemond’s face before he takes your hand again and continues to walk with you down the street.

“You do not know that it is a boy,” he likes to remind you.

You giggle. “I do. It’s an instinct. When I imagine the babe I see a boy. Always. We will have a boy. I’ll even bet you.”

Aemond scoffs and smirks. “You can place your bets with Aegon. He never turns down the chance to gamble. I believe you.”

“Good,” you grin. “Now I wonder how many kids we will have, six? I want a big family. But if I can’t have so many I will be content with two, but we need to have a baby girl.”

“So you can name her Daenys?” Aemond finishes for you, making you look at him with awe.

“You remember?” You probe.

A small smirk spreads on his lips and he nods. “I do. You’d only bore me with stories about her.”

You roll your eyes. “I wouldn’t bore you. You’d bring me the books!”

“Because it was your favorite,” he counters softly.

You laugh softly and nod. “It still is. Maybe our Daenys will be an amazing dreamer just like the great legend that saved our house.”

“Yes,” he agrees with an obvious glee in his voice. “Maybe.”

You let out a content sigh and rest your head on his shoulder while you take in the stands you pass.

“Spare some food? Money?” A child with his face covered in dirt asks. “Something small?”

“<He just wants to steal from you, they always have money.>” Aemond points out.

Even if he did, you don’t care, you stop and turn to pick out an orange off the box.

The kids' eyes grow curious, and they follow your hand as you move it towards him. You pretend you’re going to give him a single orange, but you then hand it to Aemond and instead grab the box from Ser Criston’s hold.

“Take it,” you tell the kid. “It’s for you.”

You put the box down in front of him and offer him a smile before you move on. This time Aemond doesn’t remark on your actions—you wouldn't care either way, so he just lets it pass and takes your hand in his again so you wouldn’t wander off just as you approach the outer castle gates.

However, before you can cross the courtyard, a woman with a bright red dress walks out of her house and announces something that steals your immediate attention. “Wish to know your future, my Princess?”

“Princess,” Ser Criston immediately interjects. “She’s only trying to take your money. It’s a scam. Leave it.”

You flick your wrist down and take the money pouch from Aemond’s side.

“Your worry is misplaced, Ser,” the pretty lady with beautiful and remarkable colored eyes cuts in. “But I understand. Patience is a fickle thing is it not, Ser Criston Cole? If only you had known it, you would be happy now.” Her eyes dart to you and then go back to him quickly as if trying to point something out.

You don’t read into it, or demand an explanation, you let her continue as she looks between all three of you. “I am a humble servant of the Lord of Light,” she rebuttals, “I only mean to give the Princess insight for her eyes are covered and her soul is basked by darkness.”

You smile at her eagerly and let Aemond go to step towards her. “What is your name?” You ask first.

The woman's bright eyes meet yours and her lips tug upward just slightly. “I am Kinvara, Priestess of the Lord of Light.”

Your name passes Aemond’s lips, but you disregard his warning and the priestess tries to ease Aemond’s worry in your mother tongue. “<I am no one to fear, fear resides in the whispers that are heard in the shadows, and from the lips of pretenders,” she pauses and narrows her eyes on him. “You see clearly with her at your side, venture too far and you're left blind. Don’t let the shadows consume you, My Prince, or darkness is all you’ll know.>”

You glance at him and grin brightly before facing her again. “Now can you tell me what I seek?” You press impatiently.

Kinvara turns and walks inside, speechlessly motioning you to follow, but before you can you face Aemond first. “Wait for me out here,” you tell him.

Aemond shoots you a pointed glare and grabs your arm. “Let’s go. This is all fake. She will take your money.”

You pat his cheek and give him one last piece of reassurance. “She can try but she’ll never steal my riches,” you quip. “I’ll be fine, it’s just for fun.”

You shoot him a small smile and then lean in to kiss his cheek before you follow after the Red Priestess, finding a single fire lit on a golden bowl in the middle of the elegant parlor room.

“How much will it cost?” You ask her as you slowly wander to the stand holding the bowl.

“Nothing but your attention,” she shares in a soothing voice. “And a drop of your blood.”

You stop before the bowl and don’t question offering her your hand even if you should, and Kinvara doesn't make it any harder. She’s quick and doesn’t hesitate picking out a single thin needle before gently cupping your hand and poking the sharp end on the pad of your thumb.

When a scarlet drop of blood crawls out of the small wound she pulls your hand over the flames and turns it to face the flames. After the single drop of blood falls in the flames she lets your hand go and throws the needle in the flames to let the fire eat away at it.

“You have fire-made flesh, a gift from the Lord of Light,” she begins to say bluntly.

You would’ve liked to be eased into it, but you’re no expert so you clasp your hands over your belly and watch her eyes read the dancing flames with curiosity.

“You have salt-littered blood and a dragon-made soul that burns fiercely and passionately; she flies high within the clouds in search of something…” she lets the words slip out as if she was chanting a spell, and then meets your gaze across the flames.

You should be intimidated, but you’re just eager to know more.

“…three hearts,” Kinvara adds. “One made of ice, two of fire. Three soul made dragons…”

Three, huh?

“…and loyalty.”

It’s hard to piece anything together but you still can’t help but feel joy, and an overwhelming curiosity that pushes you to pick at one thing that caught your attention. “Three soul-made dragons? Does it mean I’ll have three kids?”

Kinvara smiles sweetly. “Smart girl, but you’ll have seven. The three I see will grow, they’ll know happiness and long lives.” She hums and blinks whilst her smile fades to a smirk. “But sins will burden them and cast over them like shadows.”

Right away your smile fades and for the first time since you saw her, fear begins to crawl across your mind. “What…does that mean?” You ask quietly.

The red priestess lifts her chin and sighs. “You’ll know.”

How insightful.

“One more thing,” she interjects and moves away from her spot to reach you and grab your hands “Fire kills the girl and awakens the dragon. Follow the flames for they are sweet to you since the moment your right was taken.”

You let out a deep breath and nod stiffly. You don’t understand completely, or at all actually, but you nod in comprehension before you just feed one more piece of curiosity. “Could I read the flames as well?”

Kinvara moves back across the flames and points her chin to the fire, encouraging you to try and read what the flames could tell you.

“You might not see your own future, remember that. If you see anything it will only be glimpses,” she lets you know while you step forward and focus your eyes on the bright flames seeming to lure you in; but not like every other time before, this calling is different now, you don’t have the urge to touch the flames or bathe yourself in their fierce beauty.

What calls you now are whispers; unclear, but trying to make sense in their own way.

“Listen,” Kinvara says as if can read your mind. “And open your eyes.”

She can’t mean your actual eyes because those are already open, she must mean it metaphorically or whatever, and as difficult as it seems you draw out a deep breath and focus on nothing else but the dancing flames; you don’t let Aemond come to mind, nor do you think about what was told to you, you narrow your gaze slightly and watch in silence.

After a few moments, you start to grow irritated, but suddenly before that frustration breaks your focus you freeze and catch your breath when you see snow falling. It’s clear as day as if you’re living through what you see.

Something falls with the snow though, something thicker and different in color. It’s slightly intoxicating and brings a stench of fire and smoke with it.

You have the urge to dive deeper to figure out what you see, but the scene changes to more white plains covered in snow, ashes, and bones, and above it stands a woman with silver hair. She stands above it all while a winter storm descends upon her. You see her start to turn her head but before you can make out her face, fire is all you see.

“<A long winter.> Kinvara breaks the silence and pulls your attention back to her.

“<Yes,>” you respond in High Valyrian as it actually makes sense.

The priestess offers you a smile and walks to the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I’ll see you again.”

You’re left in so much disbelief that you don’t question what she means by “I’ll see you again.”, you bid her a farewell and return to Aemond.

“I was about to barge in there,” Aemond says in a rush.

You blink repeatedly and meet his gaze with your disbelief still clinging to your features. Aemond notices and grabs your shoulders.

“What is it? What did she do?” He hisses.

You draw out a deep breath and with that push away all your disbelief to not worry him over something that’s not clear.

“Nothing, she simply told me we’ll have seven kids,” you share the only thing that was clear.

Aemond scoffs in disbelief but he leaves it at that. Just as you do.

——

*NOW. WINTERFELL*

When you think of home, Aerion, your mother, and your brothers are what you picture in your mind. They are your home, it doesn’t matter the place, as long as they’re with you that’s what you call home.

But oftentimes, when the word home comes up, when you think about home sometimes you picture these tall grey walls, you see these snow-covered hills, the white skies that stretch for miles and bring icy winds and delicate and beautiful snow. You see grey eyes and a timid smile. You remember the warmth from all the fires lit all day and the warmth his body provides. You think of home and someone who isn’t your husband is all you see. You try to fight it, but your longing is stronger than your will.

Now as you stand in these snowy planes and feel this instant comfort fill your heart all you can think about is how dangerous it is.

You were too hasty to make your suggestion and climb your dragon. You’re only steps away and as heart racing as it is, you also can’t help but strain your heart with anxiety as well.

Letters are completely different than seeing face to face again than feeling his hand grab yours and feeling his lips brush your knuckles. Jacaerys is here but will that stop your deep desires? Will that stop him from being mad at you for being distant and not writing to him anymore? Will that stop that tension?

But why is it that a problem?! You’re married! And you love Aemond, he’s your home too; him and Aerion are your family. A family you built after being apart from your own, and even if you have this new strain, you still want to fix it, you still want to fight for Aemond and your family. You have to be strong for them. You can’t give in to what feels comfortable and what your heart might cry for. You have to be strong. You have to be friends and nothing more.

“It’s snowing,” Jacerys muses as he reaches for a snowflake. “I honestly thought there would be more.”

You glance at the open gates and already imagine him waiting in that courtyard in front of his staff, family, and friends. It’s impossible to ignore two dragons descending in front of your home after hearing about an impending war and a call for a declaration from the Greens.

“It’s a lot colder than I thought it would be down here,” Jacaerys adds to his rambling. “How did you ever do it?”

“Well we are in the North,” you mutter unaware of your tone.

“Oh, no need to get snippy, I know where we are,” your brother remarks.

You sigh and turn to him. “Sorry,” you admit. “It's just what if he says no? It’s almost winter, his people need him here. And what would he gain from supporting one or the other, he could just decide to remain neutral.”

Jacaerys leans forward and tries to be assertive. “He’ll gain the Queen's lifelong gratitude, and a chance to prove his loyalty…he’s a Stark, you know that, they take pride in their loyalty. I don’t see why he’ll turn us away. Do you?”

No, but that’s not really why you’re worried, in one form or the other you just needed to be assured.

“I see your point,” you tell him.

Jacaerys gaze lingers on you to be an assuring brother for a moment longer before it’s time to break away from your running thoughts and growing panic and face Cregan with your head held up high, and a fierce determination on your face.

Yet when you walk past those main gates, that fierce determination is met with inklings of worry. Your head is high, but it’s practiced, it’s years of practice, there's a tension on your shoulders, and your breathing is slightly hitched because of your racing heart making your lungs work overtime.

You try to show your confidence in your stride, you are the Queen's daughter after all, but the closer you get to that courtyard the more you hide behind Jacaerys, as if that will help you avoid anything you’re about to face.

If someone were to guess, they’d say it’s your first time here with the way you’re cowering behind your brother and letting him carry all the confidence and pride for you both, but it’s not. As you trail behind your brother, some people you pass by actually recognize you.

You are Winterfell's luminous sun after all, the warmth and light in the darkest winter storm and lightest snow days, capable of melting the most stubborn ice. To their Lord though you are much more and it’s been easy to notice since the moment your purple dragon was seen. You are the reason he smiles, and the sun that gleams in his grey eyes.

But like the sun you hide. You finally make it to the main courtyard but Jacaerys is the first one seen and almost the only one they can see. You don’t want to come out of hiding because you don’t want to see him.

Your heart is pumping so fast, and your hands are trembling. You can almost feel a tightness grab ahold of your chest.

“Jacaerys,” you call out in a quiet panic.

Said man turns and when he does he uses his whole body to move away from you, in that moment leaving a clear and open view of none other than Cregan Stark. There he stands, tall, proud, and mighty. Grey eyes bright and soft even against his hardened gaze. His pink lips form into the faintest smile that you notice right away because you can’t help it, everyone and everything disappears, leaving only him and you in the snow-covered courtyard.

Not even your initial panic exists anymore, it melts away, and your body eases with a simple look into his familiar eyes. Your once-racing heart slows down, but now flutters and skips a beat, and you can’t stop it. Just like he can’t help himself because here you are again, across from him with light snow perfectly raining over you, eyes so deep and captivating that he loses himself within with ease. Your face is basked by a gleam of light that makes you so much more divine, and a heartwarming smile decorates your perfectly sculpted lips.

Now he knows composure, he knows his place, but in this small escape where only you and him exist, it’s costing everything within him not to break away and capture your lips with his. He just wants to grab and kiss you, but your trance is broken by the sound of your name being announced followed by your house.

“…of House Velaryon, wife of Aemond Targaryen.” And then there's that ridiculous reminder that you are not his anymore.

Luckily that cruel reminder is not with you, instead, there’s another, smaller in stature, but still standing tall and mighty with gold dragon emblems on his belt and on his cloaks broach. He proudly wears the colors black and red which shows who he is without the need of an introduction.

“Prince Jacaerys, of house Velaryon,” the guard still announces the man you’re accompanied with.

“My Prince, my Princess,” Cregan speaks in that thick northern accent that makes your heart swoon. “Welcome to Winterfell.” He bows his head, and the crowd behind him mirrors him.

When he raises his head again and stands tall the first thing he does is meet your gaze. You should glance away and share why you’re here, but you part your lips and only a soft breath comes out as you hold his gaze.

“It’s a pleasure to have you back, Princess,” Cregan addresses you formally, hiding away the history you share. “The North has missed you.”

Your cheeks grow warm, and your lips form a flattered smile before you announce it. “You flatter me, My Lord. I have missed the North, and the snow as well.”

He huffs in amusement and spares a glance at the falling snow. “Well you’re lucky then, it just started to snow. It seems you brought a late summer snow with you.”

You share a breathless giggle, and his eyes share his awe.

“My Lord,” Jacaerys cuts in and reminds you he’s here too.

“Oh right,” you cut in and look at your brother, seeing his eyebrows furrow as he looks at you and then glances at Cregan. You ignore him and grab his arm to go on proudly. “Lord Stark, my brother, and my mother's heir, Jacaerys Velaryon.” You share what he was already told, but it feels right to introduce him yourself again. “Jacaerys, this is Lord Cregan Stark.”

“It's a pleasure, my prince, welcome to the North,” Cregan addresses him kindly, making you smile. “Your sister has told me many tales about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Your brother bows his head. “Likewise, my sister speaks fondly of her stay here too.”

Cregan glances at you and the corner of his lips twitch ever so slightly.

“I do wish I was here under better circumstances to have some of that fun my sister always goes on about,” Jacaerys starts to get to the point, leaving no time to wander. But that’s good, you are here on business, you can’t forget that.

“But unfortunately we are here under orders of the Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Jacaerys proclaims, making the crowd murmur as the whispers they’ve heard are finally confirmed.

Cregan nods stiffly and glances back at his great hall just behind him. “I assumed so,” he says and looks back at Jacaerys and you. “Let’s go talk inside. I’m sure this change of weather is not so agreeable for southerners used to warm summers.”

Jacaerys scoffs softly and nods before he follows Cregan’s lead unaware of the fact that he’s leaving you behind as you’re stopped by some people in the crowd.

“Princess,” a thin middle-aged man who works inside the castle greets you and steals your attention.

“Good sir, John,” you greet him with a smile. “How is your daughter?” You ask as you remember how she had been when you left.

The man nods eagerly and smiles in return. “Very well, my princess. Healthy and strong. The gods let her survive her fever,” he shares and points behind you. You follow his line of gaze and see his daughter in a tall tower watching what you can only assume are the dragons in the distance.

“I told you she’s strong,” you tell him with genuine relief.

“Princess,” one of the cooks addresses you, making you turn to her and smile.

“Ms Maribell,” you turn your attention to her. “I’m glad to see you.”

“And you,” she returns sweetly. “I hear you have a son, where is he now? Why didn’t you bring him?”

You nod. “Yes,” you share excitedly and touch your chest. “Aerion. He’s four months old, but sadly I had to leave him behind with my mother, what I’m out here doing is no place for children I’m afraid. But I do want to bring him after these affairs are in order.”

“When you do, stop by here,” she suggests. “I’m sure he’ll love Winterfell as much as you did.”

You grin and nod, but before you can add more to your friendly conversation, your name cuts through the icy breeze. You look over and see your brother with a pressing look.

“My brother beckons me, I’ll see you all later,” you excuse yourself and offer them a small head bow before you stride to your brother and take his arm.

“<We are not here for a friendly visit,” he whispers sharply in High Valyrian. “I know your history here, but please stay focused.>”

You sigh and look ahead, catching Cregan’s vigilant gaze focused on you after he, unbeknownst to you, watched you interact with his people and treated them like they were your long-lost friends. It honestly fills his heart with a warmth that makes his grey eyes gleam with a joy that you easily notice against his nonchalant expression while he waits for you and your brother.

Since he so often wears a hardened expression on his face it’s hard to know what he feels, but after five years you learned how to read him like a soulmate reads its other half without a need for words. Yet you don't know the exact reason why he was so touched.

“Forgive our delay,” Jacaerys instantly brings up like a proper Prince. “My sister is easily distracted.”

Cregan lets you walk in the great hall first and once the doors close behind him he huffs and responds. “Yes, I remember, so do not worry, my Prince.”

You glance at your brother and pass him a teasing look. He meets your gaze and shoots you a warning glare before he brings you both to a stop just under Lord Stark’s throne.

“I hope the northern winds weren’t too harsh,” Cregan addresses while he walks to his chair.

“Well they were colder the closer we got to Winterfell, but they helped our dragons pick up speed to deliver this message from Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Jacaerys makes a quick workaround to why you’re here.

“Just last night I received an envoy from your uncle who calls himself King as well,” Cregan says as he takes the sealed scroll from Jacaerys.

“No, you got an envoy from a Usurper,” you immediately correct him. “The true ruler is the one the late King Viserys appointed as his heir, Queen Rhaenyra. That never changed nor was it his will for it to change after his death.”

Cregan glances at you and stares at you in silence for a moment as he processes your words before he finally opens the scroll and reads what was written.

“Your father bent the knee to Queen Rhaenyra when she was named heir, and swore that House Stark and the North will follow the line of succession,” Jacaerys adds to the point to try and further convince Cregan. “Now Queen Rhaenyra’s throne was stolen and demands you follow your father's path and stand proudly in support of her rule and war if it arises.”

You have seen so little of your brother's political side since you were reunited, so now that you see it you can’t help but be in awe of the man standing tall beside you, proving himself a worthy heir.

“Your words move me,” Cregan finally interjects as he lowers the scroll to look at Jacaerys and you. “And your presence honors me. Winterfell is almost at the edge of the world, but you still came to deliver this in your mother's regard,” he says and makes some of that tension release from Jacaerys shoulders. “I know of my father's oath to your Queen. I also know how deep disloyalty cuts when it’s made by one’s own kin, your sister was here to witness my uncle usurping my rightful place as Lord…which is why I do not intend to break oath today. The North will not break oath today,” Cregan proclaims confidently and with no falter, relieving your brother of his worry, but not yours.

“But,” Cregan proves your worry worthwhile. “Winter is coming my Prince, my Princess. And these seem almost like family affairs. The Queen has my loyalty, but why should we support this war? My priorities are with my people and providing for them before Winter arrives.”

You and Jacaerys share a conflicted look, but neither of you are stuck on what to say, you're just debating who should speak in your defense. You with an advantage, or Jacaerys with a blunt but respectful tongue?

Honestly, you both probably have great points, but in your speechless exchange, Jacaerys trusts you.

“I understand,” you argue and step forward, gaining all of Cregan’s attention. “I have not lived a true winter, but I understand your hesitance, My Lord. I understand your people need you now more than ever, but the Greens have an advantage, that’s something we can admit, and they will not be afraid to use it against you, and your Queen. They already steal from her, will you stand to see them take more? Will you stand and see your people and lands burnt? Will you sit and do nothing as injustice is acted upon your Queen? Or will you and your people fight for what’s right, and for the greater or good of the North?”

Cregan shifts in his seat and keeps his hardened gaze on you for a long and tense silence. You could read what he might be thinking, but you look at your brother and fall back by his side to wait for a response.

“Your words move me,” Cregan interjects with a small huff. “And leave me a lot to think about. I hope you understand my choice will not be taken lightly, I must speak with my own people on these matters, just be assured that the North supports the rightful Queen.”

Cregan stands from his seat and Jacaerys steps forward to cut in. “How long will we have to wait?”

Cregan raises his chin. “Soon, I swear,” he promises. “As for now, you must be tired from your travel. Baths will be drawn in your quarters, and supper will be served shortly in this hall.”

You draw in a deep breath and much to your surprise you’re the one who grows impatient instead of Jacaerys. “Thank you, My Lord Stark,” you deadpan and bow your head.

Said man catches your tone before the change on your face, but says nothing on the matter. Instead, he walks down and points to the door that leads to your apartments.

Yet before you can make any attempt to walk out, the doors open and a servant carrying a dark-haired child walks in, and without as much as insight to clue you in, you know who the child is right away, you can see it in his familiar dark eyes, and that kind resting face.

“Oh gods,” you muse excitedly and lose all your annoyance in the blink of an eye. “Is this baby Rickon?” You direct at Cregan.

“Yes, this is my boy,” he assures you and you don’t wait for the wet nurse to come to you, you meet her halfway.

“Jacaerys,” you exclaim as you grab the child’s hand with a bright grin. “I helped deliver this child!” You squeal and turn back to the baby.

“I believe it,” your brother mutters.

“Hello little Lord,” you greet the baby a bit too excited. “Look at you, you look like your mother…May I?” You direct at the wet nurse, and she doesn’t hesitate to hand you the child who is a mirror of Arra.

“Hello,” you greet him again a lot softer this time since he looks at you puzzled. “I know you don’t remember me, but I remember you. How old are you now? 1?”

You don’t expect an answer, but the baby does. “Hello.”

You beam at him and caress his head while you share a happy look at Cregan. “I can’t believe it. Words truly aren’t enough, Rickon is so big. I’m so proud.”

“He would’ve been out to greet you but you caught him in his naptime,” he says and steps towards you but keeps his distance.

“He looks like his mother,” you tell him and look back at Rickon, catching him taking the pearls around your neck. “Ah, yes, nice huh?”

“Hello,” he says again, making you laugh and turn to start heading to your quarters with the others trailing behind you. “My Aerion likes my jewelry too,” you tell him. “But he likes to suck on it. You just like to look at it, hm?”

“I reckon this little lord is a lot kinder than your Aerion,” Jacaerys teases as he falls by your side.

You roll your eyes at your brother and reassure Rickon. “Don't listen to him. He’s just mad because Aerion can sense his impatience. He’s very sweet, and I’m sure when he’s older you’ll be great friends. I’ll make sure of it.”

The baby is unbothered by what you say, but you couldn’t be more happier than to see Cregan and your friend's child. He reminds you of Arra, and when you think of Arra you think of where you are, and when you think of where you are all you feel is that comfort embracing you harder, consuming you little by little.

Which is dangerous, you know. The longer you stay here the more you let yourself get consumed by what’s familiar and kind that the reality in the distance becomes easy to forget.

But you can’t. You can’t let yourself feel complete comfort or you’ll run the risk of falling into the temptation you long for the most. Thus when you finish your bath you don’t linger in your borrowed quarters, nor do you explore what you left behind out of curiosity to see what’s new, you act as if you’ll be leaving any minute and visit where Arra was put to rest.

Yet that temptation finds you there and puts it all at risk. You don’t know about his looming presence until you turn away from Arra’s tomb.

“Lord Stark,” you gasp.

Cregan bows his head. “Forgive me I did not mean to startle you, I did not want to interrupt your moment that's all.”

You laugh nervously and glance back at Arra’s tomb. “If I did not visit her while I was here she would haunt me.”

Cregan hums and you stop avoiding his gaze to look into his grey eyes.

You had hoped to contain yourself, but in the silence that falls as you just look at one another, you can’t contain your joy, it takes over you and before you know it you’re beaming like a shining sun and striding over to him.

Cregan gives in the moment you break and meets you halfway with a tight and warm embrace.

“I had come to terms with not seeing you again,” Cregan breaks the silence first as he holds onto you.

“Me too. I really did not think I would see you again,” you murmur excitedly and hold on for longer than either of you wanted to. You just can’t seem to let go even if there's a shared silence in which you keep in words that you both are aching to say and just add tension.

“I…I’m happy to see you again,” he says instead and pulls back to face you

“You grew out your hair,” you point out to change the subject. “You said long hair was for barbarians.”

Cregan chuckles, and you smirk. “Well, I thought I could try it out,” he says. “And it keeps my neck warm.”

You study his brown hair that falls just above his shoulders and let yourself have this one thing. “I like it. It suits you well.”

Cregan offers you a thankful nod and takes this time to study you closely again. “You seem happier this time around,” he points out.

You scoff. “What are you saying? Did I look miserable when I got here six years ago?” You tease lightheartedly.

Cregan nods. “Yes. You did. This time you look happy though.”

You sigh and glance at the exit as if you’d see your brother. “Yes, well my brother is here. As annoying as he can be, I am happy he came with me.”

“Mhm.”

You smile softly in response and to avoid staring too long into his eyes you start to walk out. But for a few seconds as you walk aimlessly there’s a silence that lingers until he finds what to say. “Arra’s friend came to see me a few days after you left.”

You glance at him with a curious gaze and probe. “Why?”

He exhales deeply and confides in you what he hasn't had the heart to share in letters. “She came to blame me for her death. She said I was the reason she died.”

You come to an immediate halt, and he follows suit and slowly turns to face your sorrowful face.

“She was hurt, Cregan. It was not your fault. She was just grieving,” you try to comfort him even if he didn’t ask for it because you know how much guilt he already carries for Arra’s death and because you can't stand hearing him blame himself.

“Well, there is some truth to it is there not?” He says breathily and averts his gaze.

You draw in a deep breath and reach out, but before you can touch his arm you clasp your hands and fiddle with your ring. “No. There is not,” you say firmly. “Childbirth is not easy. I hate to admit it but her loss is common. It cannot be helped, so no it is not your fault. Arra’s friend was just grieving the woman she loved.”

Cregan blinks and meets your gaze with gratitude behind his perked lips but hesitation in his grey eyes. You don’t think he’s going to say anything and leave it as him just processing what you said, but as you continue walking side by side he finally interjects hesitantly.

“Your son…how is he?” He asks as if it pains him to actually ask.

You smile proudly. “Good. Spoiled endlessly by all the love my mother is giving him, but he’s good,” you muse. “I wish you could have met him.”

Cregan swallows thickly and finds it in himself to speak. “I wish I could have seen him too, I am sure he looks like you.”

You meet his gaze briefly and nod with glee.

There's so much you can say at this moment, but there’s also so much you can’t say that you end up in this battle of not knowing what you should do. Should you touch into this past that you need to keep closed? Or leave it all unspoken and just filled with tension that threatens to overflow and break you both?

No one would have to know. You could speak about this unspoken past you both cherish…But! Then you think of Aerion, and when you think of your son, you think of his father and once again, you still want to fight for this relationship even if you stand on opposite sides now.

Thus you leave it untouched and just lean towards something else.

However, when you speak Cregan’s name to address something else he also speaks your name, leaving you at a crossroads he luckily lets you cross first. “About why I came—”

“Did you come to sweet talk me, princess?” He cuts in and does assume right, but that’s not what you’re going to say.

“Maybe,” you laugh breathlessly and exhale deeply to get at what you want to say. “But look, I understand you’re needed here, your people are your priority. Winter is dangerous, which is why we won’t ask for a lot. We’re proud and honored to get your loyalty, but anything you can spare will help. We may have more dragons, but they lack experience in war, unlike Vhagar.”

Cregan nods in comprehension and does assure you honestly. “I meant when I said I’ll try. I want to help the Queen, I swear. Let me just see what I can spare, winter is not friendly, winter is cruel, you know that.”

More than most…and more than he knows…

“I know.” You agree softly. “How long will that take?”

He sighs and shrugs. “A couple of days. Not long. Why are you in a hurry?”

You drag your gaze over to pass him a knowing glance because he knows that your presence means much more than anyone knows, and it brings risks.

Still, he smirks faintly at you.

“I will say,” you admit and smile at him. “I am glad to be back in the North. I missed it. It’s so loud in Kings Landing compared to here. And the view from my chambers?!” You exclaim without a care in the world. “Over there it’s busy streets, and here it’s serene hills.”

Cregan chuckles softly. “I told you there’s no place for you so far South anymore. You bring your son here and it is over for you.”

You laugh and nod. “I do love the sun though, and a sea in which I can swim in!” You nudge his arm, and he leans to the side with a smile.

“I will bring the warm sea here, I told you.”

You snort and shake your head. “While I'm here we need to show Jacaerys some of the fun we would have. I want him to see some part of Winterfell before we leave.”

Of course, Cregan doesn’t argue, he gives in but when he meets your gaze from the corner of his eyes he grows sweet and smug. “Not all the fun though?”

You hold his gaze and shake your head. “No. Not all the fun.”

He hums and looks at you with a dangerous longing look that you quickly look away from.

“Ice fishing?” You suggest.

“You have an entire day to waste?” He brings up and clears his throat.

You hum in agreement and stroke your chin, unaware of the fact that you’re being walked into the great hall.

“Owl hunting?” Cregan teases in that stern nonchalance, and you can’t help but burst out laughing as you remember what he means by that.

“You think you’re funny huh?”

“You just laughed.”

You shake your head and grab his arm to laugh more and much harder.

“I can’t believe you fell for it the first time.” He keeps taunting you.

You stand tall and throw out an excuse. “I was young.”

Cregan looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed and you look at him and laugh again, unaware of how lost you were until you hear your brother.

“Sister. Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.”

You blink repeatedly and catch your breath before you point back at where you came from. “I visited a friend, Arra, remember? I needed to go visit her resting place before we left.”

Your whereabouts don’t really matter anymore, he was worried when he knocked on your door and you didn’t answer, but now what he finds more interesting is who you walk in with. He looks between the both of you full of curiosity and takes note of the way you walked in laughing, as well as the smile you wear, and the faint one that decorates the Lord's lips.

“I hope you are both hungry,” Cregan interjects while you come to a stop in front of the grand table. “We had something prepared for your welcome.”

“That’s nice—”

“We’re starving,” you cut your brother off bluntly and make your way around the table. “Flying for so long isn’t only draining for our dragons, but for us too.”

You approach Jacaerys and he surprises you by pulling a chair out for you. “Oh,” you praise his gesture. “Thank you, Jace.”

When you sit though he doesn’t walk around Cregan's seat like he should have, he makes sure to sit at your other side, leaving you in between both men.

“<What are you doing?>” You demand to know in High Valyrian.

Jacaerys pulls in his chair close to the table and looks at you to whisper back. “<Sitting.>”

You blink and lean your head back with a teasing smile playing on your lips. “<Are you nervous?>”

He squints and rebuttals immediately. “<What? Why should I be?>”

You’re choosing to be too naive and pat his shoulder. “<Your big sister is here do not worry.>”

He swats your hand away, and you steal a glance over at Cregan taking his seat beside you

“How many days do you have to be here before your husband sends you a raven?” Jacaerys fills the silence.

At first, you don’t want to entertain his question, he’s only going to make fun of Aemond, but you give him an assumption to be nice. “Three days. The last thing he wrote was, ‘come home now. Your place is here.’ And that was before we left the Eyrie.”

Jacaerys leans in and continues. “Has he actually written that he misses you?”

You hold his gaze and part your lips to argue in your husband's defense, but those words have not been written on paper so you don't rebuttal Jacaerys, you deflect. “Have you tried to make a move on Baela?”

Jacaerys clenches his jaw and speaks through gritted teeth. “What are you on about?”

You grab the cup in front of you and shrug. “What? She is your betrothed, it's okay to sneak off and you know, have a little fun.”

“Stop it.”

You take a sip of your drink and lean towards him. “When we get home I will play a game and lock you both in a room—oh! No! I’m brilliant!” You exclaim and push yourself back, making him grimace.

“Shut up.”

“Nothing boosts romance more than a fun little adventure, just you and her alone,” you share excitedly without shame that you’re talking to your brother about romance as if he were a lady. The gods didn’t give you sisters, just five brothers, so you have to make the best of what you have. “I will throw you out of the castle to go fetch dragon eggs, or you know, something fun.”

“You’re childish,” he snaps at you under his breath.

You exhale deeply and sit back proudly. “And when your wedding comes I will be paralyzed with joy. Unless she marries one of our Velaryon cousins,” you finish in a whisper to just light a small fire under his ass.

“What?” Jacaerys asks in a shocked whisper, which you ignore to share an amused smile with Cregan.

“Princess,” you hear someone call before you see Lady Maribell approaching with servants carrying supper. “We made your favorite to welcome you and the Prince.”

You watch your plate get put down with a big appetite and then look at Lady Maribell and touch your chest. “Thank you, ma’am, I’ll make sure to savor it well.”

The lady bows her head and leaves the hall, letting you appreciate your supper and the fact that these people took the time to prepare your favorite meal by their own will, or for the wishes of someone else, you don’t know, but it’s a huge difference with the way you get treated in the Red Keep.

“I would like to make a toast,” Cregan’s voice booms throughout the hall as he stands up, pulling the attention of those gathered in the hall. “To the Prince and Princess. Welcome to Winterfell, you honor not only me but the entire North for coming in person in the Queen's regard…”

You smile up at Cregan before you share your joy with Jacaerys.

“Your stay will not be long, but we will do our best to make you feel at home,” Cregan continues before he looks over Jacaerys. “The North may be a drastic change, but it is beautiful. I hope you learn to grow fond of it just as much as your sister has.”

You don’t check Jacaerys reaction, you meet Cregan's gaze and follow him all the way down to his seat with a soft appreciative smile, while his own gaze softens…for a moment, because his gaze then drifts over your shoulder and it loses that gentle touch.

You follow his line of gaze and meet your brother's thankful but slightly narrowed look that he holds with a smile. And as to not make suspect something you raise your cup to him.

He returns the gesture before looking past you again, making you now look at your steaming food and let out a slow deep breath as you try to remind yourself to keep yourself contained. In doing so, albeit you remember the tragic dinner you had at King's Landing not many nights ago and you now start to feel amused by the memory.

You happen to let your gaze wander over to your brother in the midst, and he slowly locks eyes with you. Silence follows for a moment, but then as if mentally tangled with your thoughts you both start to giggle before you chuckle together.

“Man,” he says between laughs. “I wish I would have seen your right hook. I missed it!”

You cover your mouth and stifle the laugh you want to let out and respond. “He was so shocked! I was holding that in for so long!”

You snort and lean towards each other. “It was such a mess from the start, but I applaud your toast. That was smooth.”

“Really? Thank you, I think I landed it too.” He takes your compliment and you both laugh together again before he grabs your shoulder and turns you towards the man at your other side.

“Lord Stark,” he happily drags Cregan into the conversation. “Considering you are friends with my sister, I will tell you a great feat she completed a few nights ago on our last night at Kings Landing.”

You shake your head lightheartedly and lick your lips as you catch your breath.

“To make this story short, one thing led to another and my sister landed a right hook on the usurper,” Jacaerys shares, making the corner of Cregan's lips twitch.

“He slammed our brother's face into the table,” you try to give reason to your actions. “I acted. My rings helped too.”

Jacaerys laughs softly and you meet his gaze and smile wide.

“It seems like an impressive feat indeed,” Cregan says and lets his gaze linger on you. “But I cannot say it surprises me, your sister has never been one to recoil from such things. I’d say she's fond of it.”

“Too much,” Jacaerys remarks. “It is why she would always get in trouble.”

Cregan huffs softly and meets your gaze. “I only wish I could have seen it,” he says directly at you while also letting your brother hear.

You can’t help your deep breath, or stop your face from burning under his impressed gaze. You don't say anything but luckily that conversation leads to a lighthearted dinner where Jacaerys and Cregan start to talk more instead of just passing glances.

Unfortunately, you do the one thing you told yourself you didn’t want to do, and that’s losing yourself in the bliss that comes with interacting with your brother and Cregan, the man you…have a secret past with.

You thought you could do better, you wanted not to get lost at all, but it pulled you down rather quickly and you couldn’t fight it. Especially because there’s something about seeing Cregan interact with your brother without tension or disdain, that makes your heart swoon.

“Jacaerys,” you blurt and turn to him. “Let’s dance.”

His eyebrows pinch together and he shakes his head before he answers. “What? No!”

You ignore him and jump from your seat to grab his arm and pull him with you to the center without as much as a protest. He likes to act all tough and nonchalant in front of others but he’s a big sweetheart when it comes to you and your brothers.

And he proves that further when he doesn’t fail to make you smile when you’re dancing slowly at first to follow the beat of the music that plays in the corner. When the music picks up he becomes faster but disregards the actual beat to start spinning you around the room.

“That’s not how you dance this!” You remark without much meaning behind your words. “You’re going to get me drunk!”

“You can handle it. You love it!” He assumes right and goes faster around the room without that initial worry of being judged or carrying this tough and proper image.

Neither of you actually find a worry in the world, it’s just him and you in that moment, laughing, and unaware of the pair of grey eyes that follow you all around the room. People talk to him, and a commotion surrounds him but Cregan finds a way to keep watching you laugh with your brother as he takes you around the room.

He should feel somewhat upset that your brother is bringing this different kind of joy out of you that he never saw when it was just you and him, but his heart only fills with bliss as he sees you so overjoyed. He knew how much you missed your family when you were living in Winterfell, so how can he be upset and petty that you’re so drunk with bliss by your brother's company?

Only a fool would refuse you this joy.

“Princess!”

You come to a quick halt and give your attention to the one who seeks it; catching Ser Rolf, one of your greatest friends just past the door.

“Ser Rolf!” You greet once you know who has beckoned you, and let your brother go to rush to your friend.

“I heard you were here and I came as fast as I could,” he says and answers your curiosity as to where he’s been before you had the chance to ask. “I almost feared I missed you.”

You shake your head. “No, you got lucky. Come!” You pull him with you to return to your brother. “Ser Rolf, this is my brother, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.” You immediately introduce them.

“My Prince,” Ser Rolf greets him properly.

“Jace, this is one of my greatest friends from here, Ser Rolf,” you explain. “He went to my engagement tourney and played in my honor.”

Ser Rolf scoffs. “Well, I needed to show off my skills, and not let you Southerners forget how talented we can be.”

You smile at him and you both purposely leave out the other reason why he had gone.

“It's nice to finally meet you,” Ser Rolf directs at your brother. “Your sister often spoke fondly of you and the rest of your family.”

“Did she?” Jacaerys presses and flashes you a smug smirk. “When we return to our brothers I’m proudly going to use that over her head.”

Ser Rolf laughs and nudges you, and you roll your eyes.

“Do you mind if I steal your sister from you, My Prince?” Ser Rolf asks.

Said man shakes his head. “Not at all, go ahead, I need to step out anyway. I will be back.”

You offer him a comprehensive smile and watch him leave the hall before you face your friend. “Are you going to dance with me?”

Ser Rolf scoffs. “No. Unless it’s a command.”

You smile in amusement and shake your head. “Never to you.”

“Good, I may be swift with a sword, but I'm afraid I'm not a gifted dancer. My wife can attest to that,” he breathes out and points his hand away from the crowd of people dancing to walk away together.

“How is your family?” You ask.

Your friend looks at you and smiles sweetly for the first time tonight. “Good. My girl is a year old and a delight. You have a son, I heard.”

You clasp your hands together and nod. “Yes, Aerion. He’s four months old, and his father's pride.” You share now that you can share it with someone since so many details about your son felt wrong being shared with Cregan.

“About…the father,” Ser Rolf picks on that matter as he sits around the first table you see. “I hope my actions in that tournament did not get you in trouble. I saw him later that night at a feast after the tournament was over.”

You sit down first and sigh before you shake your head. “No. Do not worry…was he…” you trail off and glance at the ring Aemond gave you to fiddle with it. “…with anyone?”

You can feel Ser Rolf press his gaze on you, but you avoid it and wait, even if you shouldn’t considering who’s occupying your mind now too.

“No,” Ser Rolf answers hesitantly, making your heart skip a beat. “He was lurking in the corner watching over the other silver-haired Prince.”

You swallow back nervously and meet your friend's gaze to press him since he didn’t sound convincing. “Tell me, Rolf. I can take the truth. I mean look at me, I’m on opposite sides of this war.”

Ser Rolf quickly shakes his head and looks at you with a pitiful look. “I swear it, Princess. He was lurking the entire night. When his brother brought in women and tried to gift him one as an engagement present, he finally left.”

You let out a relieved sigh and nod in comprehension, feeling a lot more assured now than before. “Thank you, my friend.”

“Of course.”

You feel it now…how much you’re starting to miss Aemond. Which is all so conflicting, but you admit it, you miss your husband, especially when it’s just you and him. That’s when he lets his guard down and lets out this person he keeps within; this sweet, affectionate, and amusing person that knows how to love you in the way you want to be loved, and knows the deepest parts of you, while he lets you know his.

He doesn’t hide his love for you in public, he's not overly affectionate but he makes it known that you’re all his and he’s all yours. And perhaps that makes you a little too attached to one another, but you take pride in it and never feel alone.

But…

Yes, there’s a but when you’re in Winterfell, when Cregan is close, and when he comes to mind. You can’t let Cregan go. The love you shared was so consuming, it was full of passion, it was exciting, and it had so much to give that no matter what, you could never get enough of one another.

But that's it isn't it? Was. You need to let go.

“How are you…holding up?” Ser Rolf breaks you from your troubled mind and only makes you confused. “With…you know…” he trails off and points to the side.

You follow his line of gaze and realize that he’s referring to Cregan.

“Rolf,” you warn him, making him laugh.

“He’s finally smiling,” he makes matters worse and makes you smile down at the table while your stupid heart skips a beat.

“He hasn’t been with anyone,” Ser Rolf clarifies and you snap your eyes at him and kick his shin.

“Stop.”

Rolf smirks and rubs his wounded area, while your eyes wander to the man you’re talking about, and you see him leaving the hall.

You almost find it in you to follow him out, but what will that bring? Nothing but temptation. You did good before when it was just him and you, but the stars are out, and the snow blankets the ground, it will feel like one of those nights when you would admire the sky in each other's embrace, and you’ll probably lose it, so you stay put and keep talking to your friend while also watching for your brother.

Eventually, more of Cregan's friends join Ser Rolf and you, but as much as you enjoy their company you can’t rest easy without knowing about your brother. He left a while ago and hasn’t returned. He would’ve told you if he went to bed, but he hasn’t. He said he needed to step out and hasn’t returned.

Maybe he froze out there since all he’s used to is a chill—but more seriously you should go check on him.

You stand up and just as you’re going to excuse yourself you catch your brother walking inside in front of Cregan.

They approach the table and you want to ask about your brother's whereabouts, but Cregan interjects. “I've decided we could take him hunting tomorrow morning and have lunch there, so he can know some of the North’s wilderness.”

You look at your brother and he gives you an assuring nod. And considering Cregan hasn’t given you an answer you have no choice but to accept. “Very well then.”

“I might’ve overshared with your brother just now,” Cregan continues to direct at you as you step back and sit back down.

“No, no,” Jacaerys shakes his head. “He glorified.”

You cross your leg over the other and press them. “What?”

Cregan glances at your brother and then looks back at you. “I might have praised your archery skills on dragonback.”

You smile at Cregan and pass your brother a cocky look. “It’s true. I am an excellent shot on Dragonback, but I cannot take all the credit, Astraea helps me when she flies. I think Lord Stark is just too in awe of the dragon itself.”

Cregan huffs and points his chin at you. “You are being too humble. You deserve the praise, not anyone can hit the target while moving, especially while flying. And you like to stand, which, that alone deserves its own praise.”

You shake your head. “You flatter me too much.”

“But I do suppose the same cannot be said about your traps. She almost caught her own leg once,” he shares a bit too amused. “Arra caught her in time.”

You shake your head. “It was not my fault,” you rebuttal. “You were distracting me. Hunting is done in silence and you distracted me.”

Cregan scoffs. “Are we talking about the same day?” He teases. “You are remembering wrong. I did not do such a thing.”

You touch your chest and slowly get up. “Lord Stark, are you calling me a liar?”

He shakes his head. “Admit it, you could have used help.”

You inhale deeply and nod. “Only if you admit you spoiled our bait for that fishing evening on your name day.”

Cregan parts his lips but he can’t deny you so he presses his lips together and nods slowly, causing you to nod in return, and share a mutual agreement to your questions through shared glances that you don’t break. There in the middle of your friends and brother, you look at each other as if it’s only you and him in that hall, in this world entirely. You exist only for each other.

Until the reminder tears it all down and pulls you back into reality. “Sister why don’t you sing us a song,” Jacaerys exposes you.

“What?” You gasp and ignore all the looks you get.

Jacaerys nods. “It seems fitting. It’s still early, I think it would be nice for you to fill the hall with your song.”

You blink repeatedly and shake your head quickly hoping he’ll get the hint, but he does the opposite as if purposely torturing you. “Wait…you have not sung here?”

You stay quiet and spare a glance at Cregan who is too amused by what’s going on.

“Wow…” Jacaerys trails off to chuckle before he faces the crowd of your friends and Cregan. “That is why she is called the Siren of Driftmark.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and groan.

“I thought you said it was because you were a good swimmer,” Ser Rolf points out.

You shake your head. “No,” you grumble.

Jacaerys moves over to you to grab your shoulder and shake you gently. “She’s really good. She sings all the time,” he praises you. “She just sang the other day when we got to Dragonstone.”

You shake your head and feign a smile. “No, no, my brother is being too nice. He’s exaggerating.” You laugh and then turn to your brother to shoot him a burning glare. “You’re exaggerating,” you sneer at him through gritted teeth.

Jacaerys chuckles and pushes you forward. “Sing us a song. Come on!”

You share a breathless chuckle and turn on your heels to point back at your brother. “I would not want you to cry,” you reveal and glance at the crowd. “When he was a boy he would hide at the back of the crowd so no one would see him cry when I sang.”

Jacaerys doesn’t give you the satisfaction of being flustered, he just smiles, and Cregan steps in.

“Come on, prove your name, princess.”

You pass him a glare and sigh deeply.

“Just one,” Cregan insists with a sweet and intrigued look that really makes it hard to say no to.

“Fine…” you give him brugrudgly. “But…I’ll sing a Sea Shanty. One father liked to sing with us, Jacaerys, so you can sing with me.” You smirk.

Your brother is quick though and shakes his head. “No, no, anyone happy enough can sing a Sea Shanty. Sing a different song.”

“You’ll be surprised not everyone can,” you murmur and stare at your brother with a piercing glare but don’t argue now. You’ll get nowhere, so you begin to step away from the crowd. “Only if you do it,” you protest and turn back to your brother.

“No,” he snaps.

“Do what?” Ser Rolf probes.

You grab your brother's arm and he gives your friend the answer. “Our father would present her to the crowd as if she was a famous singer before she sang.”

You nod eagerly and shake him, but he shakes his head to deny you of such a pleasure.

“I’ll do it,” Ser Rolf volunteers and takes you with him, but leaves you at the side as he runs to the center and steals everyone’s attention.

“Can I get everyone’s attention please! Tonight we have a special guest blessing this hall with her song! May I present the Siren of Driftmark!” He shouts and you don’t shy away or protest now, you run to the center, and bow to the crowd while you spread your arms out like a dragon spreads its wings.

“Hello, Winterfell!” You address the crowd and stand tall without a hint of smugness or your nose in the air to show your royal status, you show off a charm that hasn’t been seen in this hall and gains all the wavering attention to you, as if you were born to lead the masses. “Now, now I know what you may be wondering! Can she really sing, she’s never proved that to us! But,” you laugh softly. “I promise that I at least will not make your ears bleed.”

The crowd laughs and a warm look grows on the serious Lord’s face.

“This song goes to my brother who accompanies me this time around,” you let it be known so you don’t share all the attention. “And of course to your Lord Stark. Thank you for hosting us tonight, my friend.”

You flash him a smile and he nods gently in return, unable to keep his eyes off as you whisper to the band in the corner. He follows your every step with a curiosity that grows only as you clear your throat, take in the crowd that’s gathered in the hall, and draw out a deep breath, because after you part your lips and start to sing softly for all the crowd to hear, all he knows is complete awe as you grow louder and more enchanting with your song.

You become one with yourself and it makes it impossible for anyone to turn away, all the attention is on you as if you were a real-life siren. Yet no matter how many eyes watch you, how surprised and amazed everyone is, and how that prides you, all your attention falls on one man who only watches you with awe, because in this hall it’s just you and him once again.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Fishing has never been your strength, you enjoy the quality time when you go with someone, but besides that, you aren’t patient enough to wait for a fish to take the bait.

It’s why as you watch the blue fish in murky waters you make sure to stay out of the water as you slowly pick up your bow, and align your arrow, hoping it won’t hear you and swim off somehow.

Albeit the fish with blue scales moves, making you hold your breath and wait…

Good thing it just moves under the sunbeam that casts in the water. Now though, you do feel guilty for trying to kill it, it’s so beautiful, its scales glimmer a deep blue against the sun like the prettiest gems are stuck to it.

Yet a fish is all it is.

Before you can shoot though, the fish swims away quickly. “Damn, damn,” you hiss and move your aim along with its hasty movements to not let it get out of sight. And just before it can escape into the shallow river, you let the arrow go and luckily shoot the fish right through its eye.

“Haha,” you celebrate to yourself and throw your bow aside to pull your fur cloak off and leave it on the giant rock so it doesn't get wet when you step into the water.

“Oh,” you gasp at the icy touch and rush to grab the fish on the tips of your feet whilst letting out quick ‘oh’s at the cold touch of the water.

However, before you can attempt to turn and run out of the water you catch a branch snap behind you and stiffen.

There's only two people it can be, but you’re still so nervous that the Greens are going to find you that your mind panics and quickly makes you reach for your dagger around your belt.

When you hold the handle you slowly peer back and gasp when you just see Cregan. “Gods,” you breathe out and let the dagger go. “You startled me.”

Cregan finally walks out of the tree line and puts his hands up. “Forgive me, I didn’t want to interrupt your moment. Forgive me.”

You laugh nervously and walk out of the water with relief, and your trophy in hand.

“You’ve been on edge lately,” he points out as he watches you trade your trophy for your cloak.

You sigh. “With this impending war, my husband and his family have been insistent on getting me and Aerion back to King's Landing, that I fear they’ll be in every corner I turn,” you share as you hang your cloak around your shoulders.

Cregan drops his head and nods gently. “Well, no Greens will reach you here. You have my word.”

He looks up and you meet his gaze and offer him a gentle and thankful smile before you grab your arrow from the rock and show off your prize. “I promised my little brother Joffrey we would go fishing, but I think this way is more effective, do you not think?”

Cregan gets closer and tilts his head to the side to shrug. “Can’t say it’ll be called fishing if that’s the way you go.”

You scoff and flick your wrist to brush him off. “Sure it is, we will just use a bow and arrow to catch our fish. I don’t want to wait hours to get one on a hook.”

Cregan huffs and you take that as a challenge. “But I know fishing in the extreme is not for everyone.”

A faint smile breaks on his face and he remarks. “Who do you think you are talking to exactly?”

You shrug and pick up your bow to offer it to him. “Prove your skill, Lord Stark.”

Without further argument, Cregan takes the bow and narrows his gaze. “You know how much I hate it when you’re so formal with me,” he remarks.

You shoot him a simple teasing smile and let the bow go to fall by his side instead. “Alright there’s one right across from us,” you whisper as you hand him an arrow. “Quietly.”

Cregan aligns his arrow and tilts his head down toward you. “Who taught you to hunt?” He picks on your comment.

You lift your gaze, catching the gleam in his eyes, and giggle. His gaze lingers, threatening to drive your heart mad so you look down first and he follows your gaze to follow his prey. When he thinks he has the right angle to catch the fish he lets the arrow go, but the wooden weapon whizzes to the fish's side and only works to startle it away.

“Aha!” You blurt and grab his arm. “I told you. Skill!”

“Oh, hush you,” he brushes you off with a grin before he walks over to collect your arrow. “Oh, by the way, singing?! How come you never told me?”

You sit back on the giant rock and shrug. “One, because I was quite timid to sing to you,” you admit and make him smile at the ground. “And two…after my father died…I just lost my heart to sing. It did not feel right.”

Cregan steps out of the water and his smile fades to show his comprehension. “I understand,” he says quietly and puts your arrow bag in the leather holster.

“I would sing for my grandfather Viserys when I returned to the Red Keep, but I didn’t have a heart to sing until I had Aerion,” you muse as you miss your boy. “He made me find my voice again. And now he falls asleep to my song.”

“What a lucky lad,” Cregan says and steps toward. “You have a beautiful voice. I understand why you got your name.”

A warmth creeps on your cheeks and you smile at the rock beneath you. “Thank you,” you whisper. “And don’t take it as something I hid from you, you are just learning something new from me.”

He hums softly and adds. “It’s just a way to keep me on my toes, I respect that.”

You return his hum and blink to look over at him, catching his watchful gaze, and feeling at that moment a need to entrust him with something that’s been troubling you, something that didn’t satisfy you when you spoke about it to your grandmother.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask hesitantly. “If it makes you uncomfortable, tell me, all right?”

Cregan shifts in his stance and nods without hesitation. “It’s all right, go on,” he assures you to keep going.

You avert your gaze and fiddle with the ring that Aemond gifted you. “It’s just,” you breathe out and make sure Jacaerys isn’t approaching before you continue. “You’re the most loyal man I know. Your oaths are everything to you,” you tell him, making him slowly sit down beside you. “So can you tell me where my loyalties should lie? Should I return to my husband? Especially now that we have a child should I follow him blindly? Growing up, the Septa’s would plague me with how to be a good wife, Alicent makes indirect comments all the time, it's my job as a woman to be a loyal wife, but…” you trail off and look up at the sky and exhale shakily.

“I love my mother, I love my family, and I know she’s the one who belongs on the throne,” you continue to confide in him. “It was stolen from her, nothing will ever make me look at that differently. I will follow her rule, but…Aemond is my husband. He stands loyally on the other side, shouldn’t I stand by his side? Follow him blindly?” You ask from the depths of your torn heart and drop your gaze to look at Cregan with an aching look that wounds his heart.

“He might be your husband, and you may have a responsibility to him now that should come over your mother, but you still have your beliefs,” Cregan says with sincerity since he knows that all you need now is a friend, not a jealous ex-lover. “What you want still matters. And you know what you want to do, I hear it now, I see it with my own eyes. Don't betray yourself just because you don’t want to disappoint one or the other,” he reassures you softly and leans closer to you without actually touching your hand that’s pressed on the rock next to his, he doesn’t let his breath unfurl over your skin, or let his lips brush against your cheek. He just gets his face closer so you can feel his comfort.

“Would you do it?” You can’t help but ask. “Would you go against your wife if she was on opposite sides of a war?”

Cregan sighs deeply and doesn’t debate his answer, he nods, and you add something that pains him to hear because he knows what it really means. “Even if you loved her?”

Cregan swallows thickly but he doesn’t let his eyes fall, he nods stiffly. “If it was the right thing to do, yes. Even if it pained me.”

You drift your gaze away and nod, hoping you can beat the stinging in your throat, but tears fall from your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It will be okay.”

You sniffle and meet his gaze to probe speechlessly.

Cregan understands your gesture and nods, making you offer him a gentle smile and lean towards him. “Thank you, Cregan. It really means a lot.”

“Of course,” he says with a caring look that works to assure the doubt and lift the weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders since you found out what happened.

“Thank you,” you add much to his surprise and yours while letting yourself grab his hand. “For loving me.”

Cregan stares at you for a lingering moment with his eyebrows furrowing and unknotting with every emotion that runs through his mind and makes his heart race. “I would do it again, it was my honor,” he speaks softly.

Your bottom lip trembles but you don't cry, you let your head fall on his shoulder for a brief second to express the deep unspoken love that you’ll never actually be able to let go. It’ll forever be scarred in your soul.

And that’s all you could ask for in this world full of horrors. Even if there's no proper goodbye, and there’s so much left untouched, this moment is all you could ever want, it welcomes a comforting silence that brings a smile to your face as you both watch the serene environment.

“We should find your brother,” Cregan breaks the silence after a long moment of being selfish.

You hesitate for a moment but you slide off the rock and collect your stuff before you lead the way back into the forest.

“Do you…” Cregan starts to say while he helps you by carrying the fish you caught. “Still dream of flying to faraway places?”

You keep your eyes out for your brother and purse your lips together as you sigh. “Would you be disappointed if I said I did? Only sometimes though.”

Cregan chuckles. “No, of course not. I’m glad you still do. Where to?”

You suck in air and twirl around to face him as you walk back. “Maybe,” you breathe out and happily share what he wants to know. “Yi Ti. I was given this beautiful gem necklace from there and I’ve been completely enamored by the place ever since. It’s said princes live in solid gold houses.” You nod eagerly, making him scoff.

“My most favorite gowns are made of silks from Yi Ti,” you muse and turn back around on your heels. “Some I have yet to wear because I have been saving them. Hopefully, I get to wear one soon! Don’t worry though my feet are still on the ground,” you make sure to assure Cregan. “I have not forgotten what I learned here.”

You hear him hum before he mutters. “I’m quite curious about these expensive gowns.”

Your breath catches in surprise and you peer over to shoot him a pointed look. He responds by flashing you a charming smile that makes you roll your eyes and hold back your smile.

Thankfully in that next moment, you spot your brother in the distance and force all your focus on him.

Jacaerys doesn’t seem to spot you right away though, so after a quick and brilliant idea hits you you leave Cregan behind to sneak around Jacaerys. Once you get close and he’s made some distance from the tree you’re hiding behind, you slip out and avoid stepping on all the branches and dry leaves. When you’re close enough you bite back your smile and raise your hands to jump on his back, but much to your misfortune he’s too perceptive and ruins your plan. “I saw your foot behind the tree.”

You blow out air and drop your arms with a pout. Jacaerys turns and spots Cregan walking out of the shadows first before he faces you and shows off the rabbits he caught. “What did you catch?”

You frown deeper and point at the single fish, making him chuckle. “That’s all?! I thought you were some great hunter!”

You roll your eyes and sputter out an excuse. “Well, I did see some rabbits but I didn’t want to kill them, they were adorable.”

And you can’t say Cregan distracted you either, for the most part, you were just walking and taking in the sights you left behind last year.

“Uh-huh.” Jacaerys nods with a smug smile on his face. “Sure,” he quips. “You are such a girl.”

You roll your eyes and wave him off before you get ahead of the group and lead the way to a distant clearing where you’ll have lunch. “A few months back,” you share to fill the silence and avoid your previous topic. “I was at the market street and on our way back I ran into this Red priestess.”

“A witch,” Jacaerys corrects you, causing you to turn around and counter.

“No, a red priestess. Calling them witches is kind of mean.”

Jacaerys scoffs and turns to Cregan for support. “I say witches, what do you call them here, Lord Stark?”

Said man grabs his blade hooked on his belt and meets your brother's gaze with a hidden smugness behind his eyes. “Witches, but sometimes we call them pretenders, depending on the price.”

Jacaerys chuckles and you know they’re obviously just working against you so you choose to ignore the negativity and go on. “Anyway!” You exclaim and twirl back around. “She told me my future. She said…” you leave them with anticipation for a few seconds before you share what you were told. “I would have seven kids.”

“Gods,” Jacaerys murmurs.

“Mhmm.”

“Now,” Jacaerys cuts in and rushes over to fall by your side, leading Cregan to fall on your other side—“Who will give you all these children if your husband dies in this war?”

Without as much as thinking you turn to your brother and nudge his chest to make him think it’s something you planned when really you’re just teasing him. Kind of. “You. We could get married.”

Your brother's face falls and he immediately shakes his head and turns you down bluntly. “No. I would not marry you.”

“Oh right, there’s Baela,” you point out and grab your chin as you think deeply. “Well…I could take her. She’s quite terrifying, but yes,” you nod and look back at your brother. “I can take her in both a dragon fight and hand-to-hand combat…I think.”

Jacaerys' nose scrunches and he shakes his head again. “No, I would not marry you! You are…you.”

You look around confused and pick on that considering your house is known to marry within the family to keep the bloodlines pure. Aegon and Helaena are married.

“So?”

Jacaerys parts his lips but he can’t think of a strong argument that will beat the truth. Yet you do take a good look at Jacaerys and find an excuse. “You are right,” you mutter. “We could not, I do favor taller men, thus maybe...” you trail off to think, leaving Jacaerys offended by your bold comment.

“A Prince from Yi Ti with a house made of gold,” Cregan finishes for you, making you snap your eyes at him and smile slowly in amusement.

“Funny,” you hold back your laugh. “Very funny.”

He rolls his head down and hides his smile.

Gods laughing with him is so much better in person. He can be very funny in a serious way that only makes what he says or does that much funnier.

“She also let me see in the fire,” you continue to share more excitedly now. “And what I saw was a girl—”

“Wait, wait,” Jacaerys cuts you off and wipes away his smile. “Now when this priestess of yours talked to you, was she on the other side of this fire?”

You look away and bite your cheek before you lie by shaking your head as a response.

Albeit Cregan knows you well and points you out. “Liar.”

“Yes, fine!” You exclaim and gently nudge him away. “She was at the other side, but it was not her that I saw, it was a girl with silver hair,” you catch your brother's serious attention now. “She…stood on top of a mountain covered in snow, ashes, and death.”

Cregan’s own amusement falls and your brother doesn’t dare to tease you now, so you go on.

“All brought by…<A long winter,>,” you finish in High Valyrian to mirror the way the Red Priestess told you before you repeat in the common tongue. “A long winter.”

Both men look at you but one doesn’t look at you with disbelief, nor fear, he’s serious and deep in thought, while your brother lets out a dry laugh and shakes his head to try and deny what you shared.

“I believe it,” you defend yourself and what you saw in that fire because it was clear as day as if you were seeing a memory that hasn’t happened.

“I also believe what this old man said about Ice dragons living past the wall,” you tell your brother, and Cregan interjects right away.

“Old man Thomas is known for tall tales. There are things that are true, but what he says is not.”

You shrug. “He’s well-traveled, why wouldn’t it be true?” You rebuttal and lean towards him.

“Because,” Cregan argues and leans towards you. “He likes attention. And he’s drunk all the time.”

“A drunk man is less likely to lie, you know that because you don’t lie when you’re drunk.”

His lips twitch and before he can respond with something in his defense his eyes turn to your brother at your other side. You discreetly follow his line of gaze and catch your brother's attention so you play it off quickly.

“All I’m saying is I believe what I saw, it may not happen in our lifetime, but it’s in our future,”

A short silence follows that only works to make you grow nervous over what your brother might’ve just thought. But he thankfully brushes you off.

“Maybe but you probably got ripped off by a fake witch.”

Once again you choose to ignore this negativity spouted by your brother and instead drift your attention to lunch, and since Cregan was more in charge of guiding Jacaerys, he didn’t catch anything. All you have is the single fish you caught and the rabbits Jacaerys caught, but neither one of you wants to skin them, so you eat a small lunch and share the fish over a quite fun moment where you, unfortunately, don't receive an answer from Cregan, regarding what he’s willing to offer your mother.

You hoped he’d finally say it during supper, but supper came and passed, and nothing. That lack of response followed until the next two days too, leaving your brother quite impatient now.

“What have you told him?” Jacaerys greets you ever so warmly.

“What have I told who?” You pretend to act clueless while you pick a square cake from the tray and study it before you plop it into your mouth.

“Lord Stark,” he snaps.

You knew he was getting to that since you spotted him stomping over to you and Astraea, but you had hoped he wouldn’t get to it yet.

“It's been days and you said you would talk to him! We don’t have days to waste,” he remarks and spats out your name before going on to give you a mean reminder. “We need to leave and we have nothing.”

You don’t intend to sit up or fix your gaze on your brother, you keep yourself against your dragon's large arm and respond calmly. “He promised he would give us an answer—”

“When?” Jacaerys cuts you off and crouches down to take the tray of cake from you. “When?”

You drag your eyes up and nonchalantly answer. “He cannot pull the army out of his ass, Jacaerys. We have to wait, if he promised he would do something he is going to do it.”

Your brother rolls his eyes and turns away to let out a frustrated breath. “There's a difference between saying a promise and actually committing to it. I do not know how close you are or if you have actually talked to him, but you need to figure something out, that is why you are here.” He mutters.

You watch him knowing that he has a right to be annoyed, Lady Arryn gave you her answer quite quickly, and you’ve been in Winterfell for days but still haven’t received a word on what Cregan will give to support his Queen, but you also trust Cregan, you know he’s going to do what he says, you just need to wait.

“I’ll talk to him again,” you assure him. “If he doesn’t give anything then we’ll return home with his simple loyalty.”

Jacaerys rests his hand on his hip and lets out a deep breath. “All right, that sounds good.”

You sigh and nod, letting a silence linger for a moment before you lean forward. “Can I get those back?”

“What?” He breathes out and turns all dramatically with his cloak twirling with him.

“My cake pieces,” you point at the tray in his hand with your eyes.

Jacaerys passes you a judgmental look before he leans over and lets you take the tray he took.

“Aemond found me,” you let him know of the raven that came to you this morning. “He said ‘come home at once’. Shorter than the last one but still persistent.” You giggle.

Jacaerys walks over to sit next to you against a sleeping Astraea. “Will you?” He asks with genuine curiosity.

You take a cake piece and shake your head. “No…our mother belongs on that throne and I am going to stand by that,” you say confidently now that you know where you want to stand. “He can try to take me by force if he wants, but I am going to fight for her.”

Jacaerys looks over at you with a faint smile and nods in comprehension. “I’m glad to hear it.”

You mirror his smile and offer him a piece of cake. As he takes one a memory creeps in and your smile widens before you can tell it to him. “Do you remember a few years ago, when Lucerys disowned me because he thought I ate the last piece of lemon cake?”

Midchew Jacaerys loses himself in thought before he snorts, spitting out pieces of cake, and causing you to scrunch your nose in disgust.

“Ew,” you grumble and he interjects abruptly.

“Yes! I remember he’s like you cannot be my sister anymore because you are selfish and you ate it all!” He mocks your younger brother.

You giggle and nod, but before you can add to that shared memory Astraea suddenly raises her head, bringing Jacaerys and you to a pause to look over; noticing none other than Cregan approaching.

When he’s near he bows his head and greets the both of you on the ground. “Good day, my princess, my prince.”

You smile at him and greet him for both Jacaerys and you. “Good day. It is nice to see your face today, we ate lunch and breakfast alone.”

Cregan bows his head again. “I am terribly sorry, I have been busy all day, I only barely got out.”

You remember his long days, on some terribly long ones, he wouldn't be let out until it was time to go to bed. You would usually meet him in his chambers on those days and just lay down enjoying each other's company. Today all you can do is look at each other as nothing but old friends.

“I hope your day has not been dull,” Cregan worries.

You shake your head. “No, we were just reminiscing about a day of our childhood when,” you snicker and go on. “Our little brother Lucerys disowned me because he thought I ate the last piece of lemon cake.”

Jacaerys nods and continues the story for you. “We both knew there was more so she pretended to leave. Our mother came in a few moments later with more and Lucerys completely freaked,” Jacaerys laughs and stands up as if that would change the way he was telling it. “He started bawling and ran out to look for our sister.”

“When he found me,” you finish the story. “He’s like I am so sorry, I never meant what I said. Come back, do not leave us. You can have as much cake as you want!” You finish with a laugh and Jacaerys joins you.

“That sounds like quite a memory,” Cregan says and reaches out to pat your dragon's snout since she leans towards him with dilated eyes. “Did your mother say anything?”

You and Jacaerys stare at one another in search of the answer, but you can’t recall.

“Not that I remember,” you mention and look back at Cregan. “But it was quite a memory. Lucerys is a sweetheart.”

Cregan hums and Astraea groans softly in response to his touch.

“Oh, maybe you needed something, my Lord?” Jacaerys only asks now.

“Well,” Cregan sighs. “I only wanted to invite the both of you to Castle Black on the morrow so you could see the wall, My Prince. Just before you leave, that is.”

You and your brother share a hopeful look and even if Jacaerys was quite impatient to leave, now he accepts Cregan's invitation. “I have always wanted to see the wall. It would be a pleasure.”

“Good, we will leave at first light then.” Cregan lets you both know and leaves you hoping for a good response that will hopefully make your mother proud.

A/N- Who’s the 2nd heart of fire? A new character we’re getting soon, or someone else

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me

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the-orange-in-red-silk · 2 years

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I posted 12,930 times in 2022

That's 12,930 more posts than 2021!

19 posts created (0%)

12,911 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@snake-snack-stede

@ourflagmeanslgbtqia

@blakbonnet

@sherlockig

@ofmd-alsaurus

I tagged 12,923 of my posts in 2022

#our flag means death - 11,318 posts

#ofmd - 11,317 posts

#blackbonnet - 6,135 posts

#art - 3,538 posts

#edward teach - 1,707 posts

#stede bonnet - 1,611 posts

#rhys darby - 1,293 posts

#taika waititi - 1,038 posts

#analysis - 681 posts

#ideas - 506 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#ed wants to spare himself the heartbreak but once he knows stede likes him back he's ready to wait and be with stede forever as co-captains

My Top Posts in 2022:

Taika “I have my priorities straight” Waititi

116 notes - Posted June 20, 2022

See the full post

371 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

watching 1x10 just drives me insane

it just breaks my heart how much ed loves stede, how much he STILL loves him and how strongly he's longing for him

he spent like one day and one night alone in that cabin they were once sharing, tried to sleep on the couch, tried to sleep in stede's bed, he went through stede's clothes and cuddled with some of them, he is WEARING stede's clothes, he’s built a blanket fort out of stede's blankets and pillows, he built it inside the library which is stede’s pride and joy, and is eating stede's marmelade

like he is wrapping himself up in stede without having stede there. he wants to be as close to stede as fucking possible i just cant he loves him so so so fucking much

530 notes - Posted July 19, 2022

ourflaghbomax: We love a sensual sword fight ⚔️🖤🏴‍☠️ #ourflagmeansdeath

804 notes - Posted April 27, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I’m gonna borrow this lovely gif by @stedebonny (you’ll find the complete gifset here) to scream over how well ed picks up on a tiny social cue some viewers haven’t even noticed

I love this so so much and can’t shut up about it!

people often say ed didn’t have the courage to kiss stede when in reality he decided to back off for stede’s sake

the gif is a bit slower than the original show so here you can clearly see how ed immediately reacts to stede:

they're standing there in the bright moonlight, staring into each other's eyes. ed is gathering all his courage, straightening his back, and then takes a step towards stede, clearly intending to kiss that wonderful man who had just given him the most beautiful compliment ed’s ever received, completing this incredibly romantic moment

how does stede react though? he has absolutely NO idea what’s going on and you can clearly see it on his profile: eyebrows raised, mouth open. stede’s clearly confused. he doesn’t realize what situation he is in. after all, no one’s ever shown interest in him like this before

and ed immediately ‘aborts mission‘ the moment he understands that they’re not on the same page, not in the same mood. stede doesn’t step towards ed, doesn’t lean in, nothing. he’s not there yet. so ed breaks the tension with his little “okay” but still fulfills his own desire to touch stede with a friendly pat on the shoulder - physical touch being his love language as we all know

this scene is basically ed’s italic ‘oh’ moment but while he’s falling hard enough to get a concussion, stede’s falling slowly and softly like a feather, not even realising that what he’s feeling is romantic love for his ‘new best friend Ed‘

just ed being mindful of stede’s feelings in this scene is so fucking beautiful

1,502 notes - Posted May 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#personal #tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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supernovagifs · 2 months

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NCIS Season Masterlists

Below are/will be masterlists for each episode.

Season 1

1x1 - Yankee White

1x2 - Hung Out to Dry

1x3 - Sea Dog

1x4 - The Immortals

1x5 - The Curse

1x6 - High Seas

1x7 - Sub Rosa

1x8 - Minimum Security

1x9 - Marine Down

1x10 - Left For Dead

1x11 - Eye Spy

1x12 - My Other Left Foot

1x13 - One Shot, One Kill

1x14 - The Good Samaritan

1x15 - Enigma

1x16 - Bete Noire

1x17 - The Truth Is Out There

1x18 - UnSEALeD

1x19 - Dead Man Talking

1x20 - Missing

1x21 - Split Decision

1x22 - A Weak Link

1x23 - Reveille

Season 2

2x1 - See No Evil

2x2 - The Good Wives Club

2x3 - Vanished

2x4 - Lt. Jane Doe

2x5 - The Bone Yard

2x6 - Terminal Leave

2x7 - Call of Silence

2x8 - Heart Break

2x9 - Forced Entry

2x10 - Chained

2x11 - Black Water

2x12 - Doppelganger

2x13 - The Meat Puzzle

2x14 - Witness

2x15 - Caught On Tape

2x16 - Pop Life

2x17 - An Eye for an Eye

2x18 - Bikini Wax

2x19 - Conspiracy Theory

2x20 - Red Cell

2x21 - Hometown Hero

2x22 - SWAK

2x23 - Twilight

Season 3

3x1 - Kill Ari (Part 1)

3x2 - Kill Ari (Part 2)

3x3 - Mind Games

3x4 - Silver War

3x5 - Switch

3x6 - The Voyeur's Web

3x7 - Honor Code

3x8 - Under Covers

3x9 - Frame Up

3x10 - Probie

3x11 - Model Behavior

3x12 - Boxed In

3x13 - Deception

3x14 - Light Sleeper

3x15 - Head Case

3x16 - Family Secret

3x17 - Ravenous

3x18 - Bait

3x19 - Iced

3x20 - Untouchable

3x21 - Bloodbath

3x22 - Jeopardy

3x23 - Hiatus (Part 1)

3x24 - Hiatus (Part 2)

Season 4

4x1 - Shalom

4x2 - Escaped

4x3 - Singled Out

4x4 - Faking It

4x5 - Dead and Unburied

4x6 - Witch Hunt

4x7 - Sandblast

4x8 - Once a Hero

4x9 - Twisted Sister

4x10 - Smoked

4x11 - Driven

4x12 - Suspicion

4x13 - Sharif Returns

4x14 - Blowback

4x15 - Friends & Lovers

4x16 - Dead Man Walking

4x17 - Skeletons

4x18 - Iceman

4x19 - Grace Period

4x20 - Cover Story

4x21 - Brothers In Arms

4x22 - In the Dark

4x23 - Trojan Horse

5x24 - Angel of Death

Season 5

5x1 - Bury Your Dead

5x2 - Family

5x3 - Ex-File

5x4 - Identity Crisis

5x5 - Leap of Faith

5x6 - Chimera

5x7 - Requiem

5x8 - Designated Target

5x9 - Lost & Found

5x10 - Corporal Punishment

5x11 - Tribes

5x12 - Stakeout

5x13 - Dog Tags

5x14 - Internal Affairs

5x15 - In the Zone

5x16 - Recoil

5x17 - About Face

5x18 - Judgement Day (Part 1)

5x19 - Judgement Day (Part 2)

Season 6

6x1 - Last Man Standing

6x2 - Agent Afloat

6x3 - Capitol Offense

6x4 - Heartland

6x5 - Nine Lives

6x6 - Murder 2.0

6x7 - Collateral Damage

6x8 - Cloak

6x9 - Dagger

6x10 - Road Kill

6x11 - Silent Night

6x12 - Caged

6x13 - Broken Bird

6x14 - Love & War

6x15 - Deliverance

6x16 - Bounce

6x17 - South by Southwest

6x18 - Knockout

6x19 - Hide & Seek

6x20 - Dead Reckoning

6x21 - Toxic

6x22 - Legend (Part 1)

6x23 - Legend (Part 2)

6x24 - Semper Fidelis

6x25 - Aliyah

Season 7

7x1 - Truth or Consequences

7x2 - Reunion

7x3 - The Inside Man

7x4 - Good Cop, Bad Cop

7x5 - Code of Conduct

7x6 - Outlaws and In-Laws

7x7 - Endgame

7x8 - Power Down

7x9 - Child's Play

7x10 - Faith

7x11 - Ignition

7x12 - Flesh and Blood

7x13 - Jet Lag

7x14 - Masquerade

7x15 - Jack-Knife

7x16 - Mother's Day

7x17 - Double Identity

7x18 - Jurisdiction

7x19 - Guilty Pleasure

7x20 - Moonlighting

7x21 - Obsession

7x22 - Borderland

7x23 - Patriot Down

7x24 - Rule Fifty-One

Season 8

8x1 - Spider and the Fly

8x2 - Worst Nightmare

8x3 - Short Fuse

8x4 - Royals and Loyals

8x5 - Dead Air

8x6 - Cracked

8x7 - Broken Arrow

8x8 - Enemies Foreign

8x9 - Enemies Domestic

8x10 - False Witness

8x11 - Ships in the Night

8x12 - Recruited

8x13 - Freedom

8x14 - A Man Walks Into a Bar...

8x15 - Defiance

8x16 - Kill Screen

8x17 - One Last Score

8x18 - Out of the Frying Pan

8x19 - Tell-All

8x20 - Two-Faced

8x21 - Dead Reflection

8x22 - Baltimore

8x23 - Swan Song

8x24 - Pyramid

Season 9

9x1 - Nature of the Beast

9x2 - Restless

9x3 - The Penelope Papers

9x4 - Enemy on the Hill

9x5 - Safe Harbor

9x6 - Thirst

9x7 - Devil's Triangle

9x8 - Engaged (Part 1)

9x9 - Engaged (Part 2)

9x10 - Sins of the Father

9x11 - Newborn King

9x12 - Housekeeping

9x13 - A Desperate Man

9x14 - Life Before His Eyes

9x15 - Secrets

9x16 - Psych Out

9x17 - Need to Know

9x18 - The Tell

9x19 - The Good Son

9x20 - The Missionary Position

9x21 - Rekindled

9x22 - Playing With Fire

9x23 - Up in Smoke

9x24 - Till Death Do Us Part

Season 10

10x1 - Extreme Prejudice

10x2 - Recovery

10x3 - Phoenix

10x4 - Lost at Sea

10x5 - The Namesake

10x6 - Shell Shock (Part 1)

10x7 - Shell Shock (Part 2)

10x8 - Gone

10x9 - Devil's Trifecta

10x10 - You Better Watch Out

10x11 - Shabbat Shalom

10x12 - Shiva

10x13 - Hit and Run

10x14 - Canary

10x15 - Hereafter

10x16 - Detour

10x17 - Prime Suspect

10x18 - Seek

10x19 - Squall

10x20 - Chasing Ghosts

10x21 - Berlin

10x22 - Revenged

10x23 - Double Blind

10x24 - Damned If You Do

Season 11

11x1 - Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

11x2 - Past, Present and Future

11x3 - Under the Radar

11x4 - Anonymous Was a Woman

11x5 - Once a Crook

11x6 - Oil & Water

11x7 - Better Angels

11x8 - Alibi

11x9 - Gut Check

11x10 - Devil's Triad

11x11 - Homesick

11x12 - Kill Chain

11x13 - Double Back

11x14 - Monsters and Men

11x15 - Bulletproof

11x16 - Dressed to Kill

11x17 - Rock and a Hard Place

11x18 - Crescent City (Part 1)

11x19 - Crescent City (Part 2)

11x20 - Page Not Found

11x21 - Alleged

11x22 - Shooter

11x23 - The Admiral's Daughter

11x24 - Honor Thy Father

Season 12

12x1 - Twenty Klicks

12x2 - Kill the Messenger

12x3 - So It Goes

12x4 - Choke Hold

12x5 - The San Dominick

12x6 - Parental Guidance Suggested

12x7 - The Searchers

12x8 - Semper Fortis

12x9 - Grounded

12x10 - House Rules

12x11 - Check

12x12 - The Enemy Within

12x13 - We Build, We Fight

12x14 - Cadence

12x15 - Cabin Fever

12x16 - Blast from the Past

12x17 - The Artful Dodger

12x18 - Status Update

12x19 - Patience

12x20 - No Good Deed

12x21 - Lost in Translation

12x22 - Troll

12x23 - The Lost Boys

12x24 - Neverland

Season 13

13x1 - Stop the Bleeding

13x2 - Personal Day

13x3 - Incognito

13x4 - Double Trouble

13x5 - Lockdown

13x6 - Viral

13x7 - 16 Years

13x8 - Saviors

13x9 - Day in Court

13x10 - Blood Brothers

13x11 - Spinning Wheel

13x12 - Sister City (Part 1)

13x13 - Deja Vu

13x14 - Decompressed

13x15 - React

13x16 - Loose Cannons

13x17 - After Hours

13x18 - Scope

13x19 - Reasonable Doubts

13x20 - Charade

13x21 - Return to Sender

13x22 - Homefront

13x23 - Dead Letter

13x24 - Family First

Season 14

14x1 - Rogue

14x2 - Being Bad

14x3 - Privileged Information

14x4 - Love Boat

14x5 - Philly

14x6 - Shell Game

14x7 - Home of the Brave

14x8 - Enemy Combatant

14x9 - Pay to Play

14x10 - The Tie That Binds

14x11 - Willoughby

14x12 - Off the Grid

14x13 - Keep Going

14x14 - Nonstop

14x15 - Pandora's Box (Part I)

14x16 - A Many Splendored Thing

14x17 - What Lies Above

14x18 - M.I.A

14x19 - The Wall

14x20 - A Bowl of Cherries

14x21 - One Book, Two Covers

14x22 - Beastmaster

14x23 - Something Blue

14x24 - Rendezvous

Season 15

15x1 - House Divided

15x2 - Twofer

15x3 - Exit Strategy

15x4 - Skeleton Crew

15x5 - Fake It 'Til You Make It

15x6 - Trapped

15x7 - Burden of Proof

15x8 - Voices

15x9 - Ready or Not

15x10 - Double Down

15x11 - High Tide

15x12 - Dark Secrets

15x13 - Family Ties

15x14 - Keep Your Friends Close

15x15 - Keep Your Enemies Closer

15x16 - Handle with Care

15x17 - One Man's Trash

15x18 - Death from Above

15x19 - The Numerical Limit

15x20 - Sight Unseen

15x21 - One Step Forward

15x22 - Two Steps Back

15x23 - Fallout

15x24 - Date with Destiny

Season 16

16x1 - Destiny's Child

16x2 - Love Thy Neighbor

16x3 - Boom

16x4 - Third Wheel

16x5 - Fragments

16x6 - Beneath the Surface

16x7 - A Thousand Words

16x8 - Friendly Fire

16x9 - Tailing Angie

16x10 - What Child Is This?

16x11 - Toil and Trouble

16x12 - The Last Link

16x13 - She

16x14 - Once Upon a Tim

16x15 - Crossing the Line

16x16 - Bears and Cubs

16x17 - Silent Service

16x18 - Mona Lisa

16x19 - Perennial

16x20 - Hail & Farewell

16x21 - Judge, Jury...

16x22 - ...and Executioner

16x23 - Lost Time

16x24 - Daughters

Season 17

17x1 - Out of the Darkness

17x2 - Into the Light

17x3 - Going Mobile

17x4 - Someone Else's Shoes

17x5 - Wide Awake

17x6 - Institutionalized

17x7 - No Vacancy

17x8 - Musical Chairs

17x9 - IRL

17x10 - The North Pole

17x11 - In the Wind

17x12 - Flight Plan

17x13 - Sound Off

17x14 - On Fire

17x15 - Lonely Hearts

17x16 - Ephemera

17x17 - In a Nutshell

17x18 - Schooled

17x19 - Blarney

17x20 - The Arizona

#NCIS seasons #gifs #Season masterlist

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moonlightfilly · 3 years

Photo

🎶 me and you and you and me just us and your friend STEVE-

#why was Xiao Ge's face like 'excuse me bae was talking to ME' kjdfhgs #sorry Pang Zi you're important and included i swear #The Lost Tomb #Daomu Biji #PingXie #Zhang Qiling #Xiao Ge #Wu Xie #Pang Zi #The Lost Tomb 2 Part 2 #Evie watches The Lost Tomb #Evie watches The Lost Tomb 3 #Evie watches The Lost Tomb 2 Part 2 #Evie watches #tumblring by moonlight #The Lost Tomb 2 2x10 #The Lost Tomb 3 1x10

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aceofwhump · 3 years

Note

Hi! Couple you please recommend the best being shot scenes and especially the holding and “stay with me” scenes? Thought of a great plot for my OC and just need to watch all the possible references for science inspiration

Here ya go! Good luck with the writing!

My favorite scenes with both the character getting shot and someone saying "stay with me":

Lucifer 5x15

911 4x14

Criminal Minds 9x24

The Crossing 1x06

Hawaii Five-0 8x10 (it’s technically “hang in there” but same sentiment)

Virgin River S02E10

Dear John (movie)

Other great shot scenes but don’t have "stay with me" being said:

Lucifer 4x07

Covert Affairs 1x11

Hawaii Five-0 10x22, 6x25

Graceland 2x13

The A-Team 5x13

911 Lone Star 1x08, 1x09, 1x10

Burn Notice 4x12 and 4x13

NCIS LA 2x17

Angel 2x14

Legends of Tomorrow 2x06

Great scenes where someone says "stay with me" but no one got shot (stabbed, poisoned, sick, etc. yes but not shot):

Hawaii Five-0 1x23

Graceland 3x08

The Haunting of Hill House 1x10

The Magicians 4x13

Stargate SG-1 3x04

Game of Thrones 8x04

Castle 3x24

Merlin finale

When Calls the Heart 3x09

Supernatural 11x16

Star Crossed 1x12

Outer Banks 2x03

Moonlight 1x04

911 2x13

Sleepy Hollow 3x03

Aquaman

Torchwood 3x04

#mod replies #ask #anon #whump #tropes #shot #gunshot #stay with me

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catsadams · 3 years

Text

JENNIFER JAREAU — 1x10 THE POPULAR KIDS

if you save please like/reblog

taglist: @reidsacademia @quietmisery @unmitigatedsuperiority @delilahjareau @fbivestreid @rachaelswrites @tarajareau @scaryisa @hotchgan @deadravenclaw @goddess-nyx @crime-by-arson @super-sexy-agent-hotchner @p3pperm1nttea @ropoto @elmaxrights @gnater87 @paulitalblond @jamiescotts @lovelyy-moonlight @simmonsmilf @reidvibes @floatingthroughameadow

if you want to be added to my taglist please click-> HERE

#jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau icons #nati makes icons #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds icons #cm icons #colored icons #icons #cm 1x10 #criminal minds 1x10

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killerweasel · 2 years

Text

Title: Whispers in the Dark Fandom: Our Flag Means Death (TV) Characters: Lucius, Pete, Izzy, Buttons Pairings: Stede/Ed, Izzy/Buttons, Pete/Lucius Word Count: 630 Rating: R A/N: After Episode 1x10. Summary: Lucius sees something in the moonlight and he'll never be the same.

#our flag means death #our flag means death fic #izzy hands

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tw-anchor · 5 years

Text

10. Investigation

Anchor

Stiles Stilinski x Original Character (Reader)

Episode: 1x10; Co-Captain

Word Count: 4,852

Warning(s): Mature language

Author’s Note: There’s little to no Olivia and Stiles interaction in this chapter but Olivia talks to Peter and Stiles gets information from his dad. Let me know what you think. Reblog and like!

Masterlink in Profile Description!

"Siri, buddy, come on," Olivia called, her bare feet freezing against the cold concrete surrounding her pool as she waited for her puppy to finish going to the bathroom. "Let's go, Sirius!"

Bringing her fingers up to her mouth, she whistled. After a few seconds of waiting in silence, she huffed and started walking to the gate that separated her yard from the preserve. She wished that she had thought to put on shoes because, while their grass was pretty soft and the dog waste was picked up every-other-day, there were still some pebbles and sticks pricking the sensitive skin on the bottom of her foot.

"Sirius, are you there, bud?"

The light from the moon gleamed against the grass, lighting up the gate enough that Olivia could see without a flashlight. The gate was open—which meant that Sirius was probably somewhere in the preserve right about now.

Damn it, Olivia thought, Lydia's gonna kill me.

"Siri?" Olivia called, stepping out of the limits of her backyard. "Sirius?"

From her left, a branch snapped in half; Olivia whipped around at the noise and almost screamed when she saw two figures in the shadows of the trees. Before she could make a sound, Peter and Derek stepped out into the moonlight.

Sirius was in Derek's arms, happily rubbing his head against his leather jacket.

"Cute dog," Peter said casually, crossing his arms over his chest.

Olivia's bottom lips quivered as she looked from her dad—his face now fully healed—to Derek, who didn't look happy at all. His pale-green eyes were narrowed and his jaw was clenched tightly. He was fully healed from his fight with Peter at the hospital, though his clothes were still stained with blood.

"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly as Derek let Sirius down.

The puppy ran over to Olivia; she scooped him up and pressed him protectively to her chest.

"I'm here for you, of course," Peter said, a hint of a smile curling his lips.

Olivia didn't like his smile anymore; there was something menacing about it.

"Ollie, cupcake, don't you want to be in my pack?" Peter stepped closer to Olivia but she stepped away just as quickly.

There had been a time when all she wanted to do was run into her father's arms—things had obviously changed.

"No, I don't," Olivia said defiantly, raising her chin. She sent Derek a hard look, unable to believe that he was actually working with her father. Peter had killed Laura, for God's sake.

"We're family."

"You killed your family!" Olivia exclaimed, looking at him with wet, accusing eyes. "You killed Laura, you nearly killed me, Dad!"

"I wasn't actually going to kill you," Peter rolled his eyes at her dramatics. "You just happened to be there."

"Yeah, that's why you had Jennifer lure me to school that night," Olivia threw back at him. "so we could have a little dad-and-daughter chat while Scott was ordered to kill me and my friends."

"Enough Olivia," Peter said, his voice growing stern. "I'm trying to make things right."

"You're murdering people!"

"Only the ones responsible," he explained, stepping closer to her. "Don't you understand? I'm killing the ones who did this to me, to your mother."

Olivia gasped softly in realization, tears falling from her eyes. All of these murders, the victims had something to do with the fire? They worked with Kate Argent to kill her family. Her mother?

Peter nodded, as though he could read her mind. "Every one of them," he said strongly. "Don't you want to help me get revenge? To help me finish what I started?"

It was tempting—it was so tempting. She hated Kate Argent so much for what she did to her family and she had always wanted to get revenge on the hunter. She didn't know that other people had been involved with Kate but they helped kill her family too. A dark part of her knew that they deserved what they got.

But the other part of her, the larger part, knew that revenge wouldn't solve anything—for her, at least. Her mother would have never wanted her to kill anyone, not even if they deserved it. Grace Martin was a forgiving soul through and through and though Olivia could hold a grudge, she wanted to be a person that her mother could be proud of.

Killing Kate wouldn't solve her grief over her mother's death. It wouldn't do anything but rob Allison of family—and wouldn't that make her just as bad as Kate? Who even knew that Peter was going to stop at Kate? What if he went for the whole Argent family?

Throughout the time Olivia had gotten to know Allison, she'd come to love her. She was one of her closest friends and she didn't deserve to pay for what Kate did. She was innocent, just like Olivia's family was.

Olivia shook her head. "No, no!" she shouted; Peter's eyes hardened. "I'm not a killer, Dad. I know that they deserve it but it wouldn't change anything, okay? Mom's still gone; she's not coming back. Please, just stop this."

Peter smiled bitterly, his blue eyes glowering at her. "I'm not going to stop."

He turned around and walked into the preserve, leaving Olivia horrified and afraid of what was to come.

Giving Derek a betrayed look, Olivia ran back into her yard and locked the gate before rushing back into her house. She made sure the alarm was on and the locks were secure; with Lydia and Natalie in the house, she was nervous that somehow Peter and Derek could get in and harm them.

When she entered her bedroom and set Sirius on her bed, she jumped when her phone rang. To her relief, it wasn't Peter or Derek; it was Stiles.

"Hello?"

"Olivia, we have a serious problem," Stiles practically shouted. "Derek's with Peter."

"Yeah," Olivia said sullenly. "I know. The showed up at my house."

"Wait, are you serious?" Stiles asked nervously. "Are you okay? Do you need me to come over?"

"No, no, I'm fine."

"You're not—you're not with them, are you?" his voice turned hesitant. "I mean—"

Olivia was taken aback by his question. Sure, they didn't know each other that well, but she thought Stiles knew her enough that she wouldn't join her dad and kill people.

"No, uh, I have to go, Stiles," Olivia didn't want to talk anymore. "Um, yeah, I have to go."

"Wait, Livvy—"

"Bye."

Olivia ended the call in the middle of Stiles' protests and fell face-first on her bed, tears already springing to her eyes.

"Holy shit, go!"

Scott pounded encouragingly on the dashboard as Stiles pressed on the gas pedal, speeding through the Iron Works. Stiles' eyes darted back and forth between the road and Scott, whose head was sticking out of the window like a dog.

"Am I going the right way?" Stiles called to him.

"Yeah, keep going straight!" Scott gave him a thumb's up. "Hurry, I caught Mr. Argent's scent."

Stiles cursed under his breath and sped up.

At the lacrosse game, while Stiles, Derek, and Olivia were confronting Peter, Scott had overheard a conversation between Kate and Chris Argent. Kate had spotted the scratches on the back of Jackson's neck and asked Mr. Argent about it, who told her that it was possible to change into a werewolf through a scratch.

So, now the Argents thought that Jackson was the second beta. It was good for Scott but not for Jackson.

That was how Stiles found himself driving through the warehouse district, looking for Jackson's stupid Porsche.

"All right, it's there," Scott fell back into his seat and pointed at an upcoming warehouse.

Stiles turned into the driveway and went down the ramp, spotting Jackson's Porsche and Mr. Argent's red SUV. Jackson and Mr. Argent were standing at the back of his sports car, the trunk popped open.

He squealed to a stop.

"What's up?" he greeted Mr. Argent and Jackson with an overly friendly wave.

Scott smiled. "Is everything okay?"

"Hey, Scott," Mr. Argent smiled tensely. "your friend, here, was having car trouble. We're just taking a look."

Stiles gave an impressed sound as Scott commented, "There's a shop right down the street. I'm sure they have a tow truck."

"Yeah," Stiles added, looking over at Jackson. "You want a ride?"

Scott opened his door as Jackson blinked uncertainly.

"Hey, come on, Jackson," Stiles tried to persuade him. "you're way too pretty to be out here all by yourself."

He couldn't believe he just said that but it was, unfortunately, necessary. Olivia would kill him if he had an opportunity to help Jackson and instead the lacrosse co-captain got hurt.

Jackson pressed his lips together and nodded; he walked toward the Jeep while Scott jumped out to let him in and Stiles kept an eye on Mr. Argent. The hunter bent down over the Porsche's engine for a brief second before closing it.

He walked to the driver's door and pulled it open. "Hey, boys," he called, leaning down to turn the key; the engine rolled over. "told you I knew a few things about cars."

Mr. Argent smirked at them and got back into his SUV, driving away.

As soon as he was out of sight, Jackson angrily turned to Scott. "What, are you following me now?"

Scott slammed his door shut and faced Jackson, his jaw clenched in irritation. "Yes, you stupid fucking idiot!" he exclaimed. "You almost gave away everything right there!"

Stiles jumped out of the Jeep and made his way over to Jackson and Scott, figuring that he'd have to break up a fight.

Jackson scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"He thinks you're the second beta."

"What?" Jackson blinked in shock.

"He thinks you're me!" Scott slammed his fist into the side of the Jeep, grunting with hostility.

"Dude," Stiles objected. "my Jeep!"

Scott ignored him. "I can hear your heart beating from a mile away, literally!" Scott told Jackson. "Now he thinks that there's something wrong and now I have to keep an eye on you so he doesn't kill you too!"

Scott growled and went to hit the Jeep again but Stiles pulled him back.

"Okay, how about we step away from Stiles' Jeep," he recommended.

"You know what, this is your problem, not mine!" Jackson declared, angrily pointing at Scott. "I didn't say anything, which means you're the one that's gonna get me killed, okay?" he pushed Scott into the Jeep. "This is your fault!"

Stiles threw his hands up in exasperation. "Can we stop hitting my Jeep?" he cried. When Scott pushed Jackson back, he intervened. "Yo, all right, guys. Stop, all right?"

Jackson backed away and ripped Stiles' hand off his shoulder.

"When they come after you, I won't be able to protect you," Scott seethed at Jackson before calming down and looking at Stiles. "I can't protect anyone."

Stiles raised his eyebrows at Scott. "Why are you looking at me?"

Scott just pressed his lips together and looked back at Jackson. Jackson rolled his eyes.

"You know, now you have to do it," he said. "Get me what I want and I'll be fine protecting myself."

"No, you won't!" Scott disagreed. "Just trust me. All it does is make things worse."

"Oh, yeah, really?" Jackson said in disbelief. "You can hear anything you want and run faster than humanly possible. That sounds like a real hardship, McCall."

Scott narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, I can run really fast now, except half the time, I'm running away from people trying to kill me!" he stated. "And I can hear things like my girlfriend telling people that she doesn't trust me any more right before breaking up with me."

Jackson scoffed, shaking his head.

"I'm not lying to you," Scott continued. "It ruins your life."

Jackson shook his head again. "It ruined your life," he scoffed. "You had all the power in the world and you didn't know what to do with it. You know what it's actually like? It's like you turned sixteen and someone bought you a Porsche when they should have started you out with a nice little Honda."

Jackson stepped toward Scott, lowering his voice. "Me? I drive a Porsche."

He turned around and didn't spare them another glance as he got into his Porsche and drove away.

Stiles sighed heavily. "I really hate that guy."

Lydia huffed loudly as she, Olivia, and Allison walked through the preserve, the cold air prickling unpleasantly at her skin. Olivia rolled her eyes at her cousin's aggravation and continued following Allison, a little more than curious about what the taller brunette was carrying in the large black bag swung over her shoulder.

"Allison, when you said you needed to stop for an errand before we went shopping, a five-mile hike in the woods was not what I was expecting," Lydia was limping a bit, having worn high heels that seemed impractical even for the mall.

Olivia stuffed her glove-clad hands into her coat. "What are we even doing out here?" she asked Allison. "Is this so our calves look better in heels?"

Allison snickered at her. "No, I just want to see something," she rolled her eyes. "Oh, Lydia, before I forget, I wanted to ask if you're okay with something."

"Go for it."

"Jackson asked me to the winter formal," Allison admitted, her voice a little triumphant.

Lydia faltered and Olivia gave her cousin a concerned look.

She knew what Allison was trying to do but she wasn't going to get into the middle of it. Both Allison and Lydia were in the wrong.

"Did he?" Lydia's voice shook.

"Mmhm," Allison nodded with a smirk. "Just as friends but I just wanted to make sure you're okay with it first."

Lydia took a second to answer. "Sure," she said shortly. "as long as it's just friends."

"Well, yeah, I mean," Allison laughed bitterly. "it's not like I would take him to the coach's office during lacrosse practice to make out with him or anything."

"Uh," Lydia winced, ashamed. "About that..."

"Don't bother lying about it, Jackson already told me," Allison said sharply.

"I wasn't going to lie," Lydia declared. "I was going to apologize."

Allison hummed as the three of them stopped walking when they came upon a small clearing.

"Allison, I'm sorry," Lydia apologized sincerely. "I shouldn't have kissed Scott. I was angry with Jackson but that's no excuse."

Allison set her bad on the ground and knelt next to it, looking up at Lydia for a moment. "Thanks."

Lydia nodded and crossed her arms over her chest, stepping closer to Olivia for warmth.

"Okay, this area will do," Allison declared, unzipping her bag.

"Will do for what?" Olivia asked and gasped loudly as Allison pulled a crossbow out of the bag. "What the hell is that?"

"It's a crossbow," Allison answered, pulling a shooting glove onto her right hand. She grabbed an arrow and something that looked like pinecone made out of lead. "I want to see something."

She started screwing the mysterious pinecone onto the end of an arrow, so Olivia assumed it was supposed to be some kind of arrowhead.

"What does that even do?" Lydia eyed it carefully.

Allison smirked. "We're about to find out."

She stood up and placed the arrow in the bow; she pulled back the string, aimed at a tree on the edge of the clearing, and let go. The arrow soared through the air and when it hit the three, it exploded, flashing brightly.

Olivia gaped at the sparkling tree, now figuring out what exactly that arrowhead was. Derek had told her about them; they were flash bolts. When they make contact with something, the flash that appears blinds werewolves—or any creature that has sensitive eyes.

Shit, Olivia thought, this is not good.

"What the hell was that?" Lydia breathed.

Allison put down her bow, looking thoughtful. "I don't know."

"Well," Lydia clapped sarcastically. "that was fun! Any more lethal weapons you wanna try out?"

A branch snapped somewhere in the distance; Olivia and Allison's heads turned at the noise.

Olivia really hoped it wasn't Peter again; she couldn't protect Allison against him. If even Derek could hardly get a good punch on him, she was absolutely screwed.

Allison held her bow out to Olivia. "Hold this."

"What?" Lydia asked sharply as Olivia hesitantly took the bow and awkwardly held it away from her body. "Why does she need to hold it?"

"Because I thought I heard something," Allison whispered, taking off her glove.

"So what if you heard something?" Lydia whispered back.

"So," Allison gave her an annoyed look. "I want to find out what that something is. Don't worry," she assured Lydia and Olivia when they gave her panicked looks. "it's probably nothing."

"Allison, no!" Olivia hissed worriedly. "What if that nothing is something and that something is something dangerous?"

"Shoot it," Allison said, walking away.

"Oh, God," Olivia groaned as Allison walked out of sight. "Lyds, hold this," she handed Lydia the bow, ignoring the redhead's protests.

"Why?" Lydia whimpered, pouting at her.

"Hold on, okay?" Olivia pulled her phone out of her coat and quickly pulled up her messages with Stiles.

Livvy: Please tell me that Scott's following us

Livvy: Please

Olivia and Lydia gasped as they heard some grunting in the direction that Allison had walked to.

"Uh, should we call the police or something?" Lydia asked, her voice high.

Olivia's phone buzzed in her hand.

Stiles: Yeah, he is. Why?

Stiles: You okay?

Reading the messages, Olivia sighed in relief.

"No, I think it's okay," she assured Lydia, texting Stiles back.

Livvy: All's good

The words were hardly out of her mouth when Allison came back over to them, grabbing her bow from Lydia's grasp. She looked sad as she packed up her bag and threw it over her shoulder.

"Are you okay, Al?" Olivia asked quietly.

"Yeah," Allison confirmed. "I just don't feel like shopping today."

Lydia shrugged. "Well, we've got a week."

Stiles read the text message from Olivia, grateful that she was okay, and shoved the phone back into his pocket. He paused his video game and ran out of the living room, successfully sliding across the kitchen tiles toward his fridge.

Laughing to himself, he grabbed the half-empty milk carton and unscrewed the cap, drinking straight out of the bottle. He went to bring it back into the living room with him but he caught sight of his dad sitting at the dining room table, files, paperwork, and pictures spread out in front of him.

He put the milk back into the fridge and stepped into the dining room.

"Whatcha doing?" he innocently asked his dad.

Noah adjusted his reading glasses. "Work."

"Anything that I can help with?"

Noah glanced away from the file he was reading. "You know, if you poured me an ounce of whiskey," he showed Stiles how much he wanted, spreading his fingers an inch apart. "that would be awfully nice."

Stiles eagerly walked over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out the brand-new bottle of Jack Daniels he put there to replace the one he stole a few days before. He picked up a glass and walked back into the dining room, taking a seat at the table.

"Any leads?" he asked, reaching forward to pick up a discarded file. Noah slapped his hand away.

Noah shook his pen at him. "You know I can't discuss that with you," he said sternly. As Stiles opened the bottle of whiskey, he added, "Not too much."

Stiles nodded and poured an ounce of whiskey into the glass. He went to put the cap back on the bottle but paused thoughtfully. Whenever his dad was tipsy, he was a lot more talkative about his work with Stiles...maybe he would tell him what was going on in the Derek case.

He poured more whiskey into the glass until it was full.

"Okay," he sighed, putting the glass on the coaster by Noah's hand. "There ya go, Dad."

"Thanks."

"Bottoms up."

Noah's eyes didn't leave the file in his hand as he picked up the glass and took a drink. He emptied the glass without noticing how full it actually was. It was only five minutes later when the alcohol started to affect him.

"You know," he said, setting the glass down. "Derek Hale would be a whole hale of a lot—" he paused, cocking his head in confusion. "Hale of a lot?"

Stiles tried not to smirk because that was a great pun that he couldn't wait to try out on Olivia—he knew that she would probably roll her eyes at him or something cute like that.

"Hell of a lot?" Stiles suggested, trying to make it seem like he wasn't correcting his dad.

Noah grinned and pointed at him. "Hell. Yes, he would be a hell of a lot easier to catch if we could get an actual picture of him."

Stiles gave him a confused look. "How do you not have a picture of him?"

"It's the weirdest thing," Noah admitted. "It's like every time we tried to get a mug shot, it's like two...laser beams were pointing at the camera."

Stiles grabbed the picture out of his dad's hands. Two blue lens flares were blocking Derek's whole face, which he thought was kind of cool. It was like his own personal photo-blocker or something.

"Nice."

"Oh, my God," Noah groaned, taking off his glasses and leaning back in his chair. "God, that ounce hit me like a brick," he shook his head and pointed at Stiles again. "and I have said way too much and if you repeat any of that—"

"Dad, it's me," Stiles cut him off with a chuckle, innocently gesturing to himself. "I'm not gonna say anything. Come on."

Noah smiled at him and sighed as he looked back at the files on the table. Stiles picked one up and pulled out its contents, seeing old newspaper articles about the fire at the Hale house.

"See, the thing is, they're all connected," Noah said thoughtfully. "I mean, the bus driver that got killed? He was an insurance investigator assigned to the Hale house fire."

Stiles leaned forward, looking at the file on the bus driver that Noah had in front of him. "'Terminated under suspicion of fraud,'" he read.

Noah nodded. "Exactly."

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows. "Who else?"

Noah dragged another file in front of him. "The video store clerk who got his throat slashed," he pulled a picture of the slashed throat out of the file. "He's a convicted felon, history of arson."

Stiles blinked, putting down the newspaper articles. "What about the other two guys?" he asked, referring to the two victims the police found on the night of the full moon. "the guys who got killed in the woods?"

"Priors all over their records, including—"

"Arson," Stiles finished, horrified. "So maybe they all had something to do with the fire."

Scott had told him that Peter said he was going after the people responsible—now he knew what he meant. All the victims were allegedly involved in the fire and the murder of all those people in the Hale house.

In that moment, Stiles kind of understood Peter. If his mom had been killed by anything other than a biological illness, he'd want revenge too.

But, still, killing your own niece?

Noah slammed a file shut, catching Stiles' attention.

"Another shot?" he asked his dad, grabbing the bottle of whiskey.

"No, no, no," Noah waved at him dismissively. "No more."

"Dad, come on," Stiles tried to convince him, wanting to know more about the case. "You work really hard, all right? You deserve it."

Noah sighed. "Oh, my God," he rubbed his face. "I'm gonna have such a hangover."

Stiles chuckled. "You mean you're gonna have such a good night's sleep," he corrected him and started pouring him another glass. He lowered his voice into a whisper, "and I'm gonna have an eternity in the lowest circle of Hell."

By the time the second glass of whiskey was gone, Noah was full-blown drunk. He tried to put the glass back on the table but ended up dropping it. Luckily, Stiles used his fast reflexes and grabbed it before it could shatter on the floor.

Noah gave him a thankful smile as he set it carefully on the table.

"Oh, Stiles," Noah sighed, resting his head on his fist. "there's just so many questions."

Stiles frowned. "Like what?"

"Like, if Derek wanted to kill everyone involved with the fire, then why start with his sister?" Noah asked, trying to find a motive that he never would figure out. "I mean, she had nothing to do with it. Why make it look like some kind of animal did it?"

Stiles pressed his lips together, feeling guilty. His dad was absolutely torn up about this case and he would probably never know the truth. Noah was a good cop—one of the only ones out there—and he took it personally whenever there was a case he couldn't solve.

"When that cougar ended up in the parking lot, I checked with animal control," Noah went on. "You know the instances of wild animal reports were up seventy percent over the past few months? It's like they're just going crazy, running out of the woods. I don't know..."

"Or something's scaring them out," Stiles thought about the herd of deer that almost ran over Scott on the night he was bitten by the alpha.

Noah slowly smiled at him. "You know, I miss talking to you," he confessed. "It's like we never have time—"

As if proving his dad right, Stiles dug his hand into his pocket, trying to find his phone. "Dad, I have to make a phone call. I'm sorry, I'll be right back."

"—I do," Noah said sadly, watching as Stiles stood up. "I miss it...and I miss your mom."

Stiles froze in shock, not expecting those words to come out of his dad's mouth.

He knew how much Noah loved his mom and how horribly he missed her. Noah and Claudia had still been madly in love when she was diagnosed with her Dementia when Stiles was eight. They hardly talked about her since she died, as they were still raw from the holes she left in their hearts.

The illness destroyed Claudia; she couldn't remember Noah on some days and she couldn't remember Stiles at all. At some points, she thought that Stiles was some random little boy out to get her. She was violent, anxious, and disoriented most of the time as her mind battled with itself. Her slow descent into a lifeless shell was the worst thing Stiles and Noah had ever gone through.

And they still hadn't healed yet.

Stiles turned around to face his dad, his eyes stinging. "What'd you say?"

Noah didn't answer; he reached for the whiskey bottle but Stiles walked forward and grabbed it from him.

Noah closed his eyes, whispering, "Thanks."

Half an hour later, after helping his dad to bed and cleaning up downstairs, Stiles stared up at his ceiling as he laid in bed.

He was thinking about his mom. The memories were starting to get blurry the more he aged but he treasured them so much. There was the time when Claudia taught him how to swim, the day in December when he was seven and they spent all day making cookies for Santa, the vacation their family took to Mexico where they had authentic tacos that Claudia loved.

Nothing was the same without her, that was for sure. Stiles and Noah were managing fine but they would have done anything to have Claudia back.

Claudia's death changed Stiles. Before his mom died, he didn't really know exactly what death was, even though his grandmother had died a few years previously. Until his mom died in front of him, he didn't realize that death doesn't just happen to you. It also happens to the people you leave behind.

And that was the honest-to-God truth. Stiles knew that; after all, his panic attacks started after his mom died, his temper got worse, his ADHD was out of control for a while. In his opinion, a person's death was worse on the people they leave when they go off to whatever afterlife they believe in.

That was why Stiles was growing more afraid of the situation with Peter Hale. He wanted to live, he did—especially for his dad—but he knew that if Scott or Olivia were killed in this mess, he'd be broken.

It was getting so intense and it scared the shit out of him.

His phone rang from his bedside table, making him jump. He furrowed his eyebrows when he saw that it was Scott, and quickly answered it.

"Scott, what's up?"

(Gif is not mine)

#teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski x original character

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brinleyparke · 11 months

Text

Professional Outfit Inspired by Mick St. John

Inspired by his outfit at the beginning of 1x10 "Sleeping Beauty". The jacket is Prada, the shirt is Victoria Beckham, the pants are Alexander McQueen, the shoes are Jimmy Choo, the purse is Dior, the belt is Polo Ralph Lauren, the lipstick is Chanel, and the mascara is Too Faced. The jewelry is vintage white gold.

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thebeautyofspnanime · 8 months

Text

painting of madison’s face — 1x10 moonlight

#mine #screencaps #ch: sam winchester #ch: misc #ep: 1x10 moonlight #spn anime #supernatural: the animation

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damn-stark · 1 year

Text

Chapter 8 Chateau

Chapter 8 of Moonlight

A/N- You and young Rhaenyra would’ve been the bestest of friends.

Warning- Swearing, angst, NFSW, quickie before mc leaves, FLUFF, talks of blood, death, miscarriage, pregnancy, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- 1x08-1x10

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

“…and he said to me, well you’re sort of beautiful. So I look at him confused.” You tell Rhaena and Baela about a memory from your years in Winterfell. “I'm like, I'm either one or the other, tell me if I should be offended or touched.”

Rhaena giggles and leans in closer to you. “What did he say?”

You grab onto the edge of the dinner table and lean in between the both of them to whisper. “He went on to throw up on himself,” you grumble and Baela and Rhaena groan in disgust.

“But! The next day he said the same thing to another girl, so,” you snicker, “my friends and I grabbed him after he blacked out and laid him in front of Astraea. When he woke up he shit his pants in front of all the ladies he had been hitting on.”

The three of you burst out laughing at your story, causing Jacaerys to shove himself between Baela and you. “What’s so funny?” He probes.

You part your lips to answer, but Baela cuts him off. “Lady business.”

You peer over at him and snicker.

“Well,” he counters nonchalantly and smirks. “I suppose I won’t share what I just told Lucerys.”

Your curiosity piques and without an ounce of hesitation, you look back at him, noticing him looking all smug.

However, before he can even try and share his part, the hall doors open and guards carrying your grandfather in a chair walk in, silencing the chatter that fills the room, and making everyone, including you, stand from their seats in respect of the King's arrival.

“Tell us later,” you whisper to your brother.

He leans over and counters. “As long as you tell me what you shared.”

You meet his gaze from the corner of your eyes and nod in agreement. You then return your focus to the King getting carried to his spot in the middle of the table, and only return to your spot beside Aemond once the King is put down.

“How good it is,” your grandfather interjects in his raspy voice. “To see you all tonight…together.” He finishes strong and takes a moment to examine everyone gathered around the table.

“Prayer before we begin?” Alicent cuts in.

Your grandfather turns his head to look at his wife and nods. “Yes,” he whispers.

You sigh and clasp your hands together over the table, but you don’t close your eyes like Alicent and her family do.

Even if you do follow the Old Gods, you don’t much pray to them over dinner, nor do you make it your entire personality like Alicent with her New Gods, but out of respect you do stay quiet and listen to her.

“May the Mother smile down on the gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for too long.”

You slowly drop your head and roll your eyes at her comment because after all, who’s fault is this strain exactly? Your mother was nothing but patient during the years she lived here with you and your siblings; the boys only messed around with one another because they were just children messing around. The only reason you don’t like Aegon is because he’s a creep with the ladies, and you, but the hostility? The name calling? That was all Alicent.

So can she please stop acting?!

“…And to Vaemond Velaryon, May the gods give him rest.”

Okay, now that time has passed you have to admit even if you don’t want to…what Daemon did to him was…well deserved. You won't praise the man to his face, but it was impressive. After the disgust and horror passed of course.

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems,” your grandfather interjects once the prayer is done, pulling your gaze back over the table—“My grandsons, Jace and Luke will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena.”

You smile at the newly betrothed and reach over for your goblet.

“Further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young Princes…and their betrothed.”

A grin spreads on your lips and you don’t fret to raise your cup to all of them.

“Hear, hear!” Daemon exclaims.

As you take a sip from your wine you reach over and interlace your fingers with Aemond’s as you remember your own wedding. He proceeds to immediately glance over at you, finding you a hundred times more interesting than the people he’s forced to break bread with and puts his goblet down to lean over and press a kiss on the side of your head, making you smile and tighten your hold around his.

“Let us toast as well to Prince Lucerys,” the King adds. “The future Lord of the Tides.”

You raise your cup again and this time you exclaim. “Hear, hear!”

Lucerys gaze finds you and a thankful smile shows on his lips before he drifts his gaze to Rhaena.

“You’ll be great,” you hear her compliment him, making you smile softly with joy because you're happy she's showing him a gentle kindness. He deserves someone kind like her.

“It both gladdens my heart,” your grandfather keeps speaking, but this time he stands on his feet so everyone can look at him. “And fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world…yet grown so distant from each other…in the years past.”

You swallow thickly and begin to caress the back of Aemond’s hand with your thumb.

At the feeling of the soft pad of your thumb caressing his skin, his eyes fall on you and linger while you watch your grandfather with hesitation as he begins to take his mask off.

You have seen him without it on a few times, but seeing the muscles of his cheek stick out still brings you goosebumps—Not his eye socket though, Aemond and him share that similarity, and you’ve helped Aemond clean his fleshy eye socket before, but the flesh on your grandfather's cheek is not the same.

“My old face…is no longer a handsome one…if it indeed ever was. But tonight,” he mutters. “I wish you to see me…as I am. Not just a King…but your father. Your brother. Your husband…and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems…walk for much longer among you.”

You let out a deep breath and avert your gaze to avoid having them cloud with tears. Aemond notices and pulls your hand to his lap so he can hold it with both of his hands.

“Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts,” he goes on and slams his cane against the floor. “The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances, if not for the sake of the crown…then for the sake of this old man, who loves you all so dearly.” He lets out a heavy breath and sits back down, letting your mother abruptly stand up with her goblet in the air.

“I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen,” your mother interjects, catching you off guard. “I love my father, but I must admit that no one has stood…more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with…unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude…and my apology.”

You grab your goblet again and take a small drink.

“I also would like to add,” your mother says a bit softer this time, and with a smile, she directs at you. “How thankful I am to my daughter and Prince Aemond, you have made me a grandmother…”

You smile brightly and share your glee with Aemond.

“…I am thankful for that every day. To Aerion, may he continue to grow and be happy.”

“Hear, hear,” Alicent says quietly, whilst Aemond, you, and everyone around the table take a drink.

“I will also like to add,” Alicent continues to say. “That your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess. We are both mothers…and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow.” She goes to pause so she can stand up and raise her goblet. “I raise my cup to you…and to your house. You will make a fine Queen.”

You bring your cup to your lips and take the last sip of wine before you stand up as well, causing one of your hands to slip off Aemond’s. “I would like to toast to my mother and family. Six years was far too long and I'm glad to see you all again, I missed you all—And to my brothers.” You smile, whilst a servant refills your goblet. “And Rhaena and Baela, may you share a loving and fruitful marriage.” You sit back down and take a drink at the same time your family does too.

Silence falls after that, letting you reach over to grab some fruit from the trays. When you sit back down and plop a grape in your mouth, suddenly Jacaerys slams his hands on the table and gets up, pulling the attention of everyone to him, and bringing a deafening silence to the table.

You raise your eyebrow and squint your gaze in confusion, but Jacaerys just clears his throat and only provides you with more confusion. However, that confusion quickly washes away as Aemond stands up and stares your brother down.

“Aemond,” you whisper and take his hand.

Said man keeps his glare on Jacaerys, adding tension to the table. You follow his line of gaze and watch your brother playfully hit Aegon's arm before raising his cup and meeting your husband's gaze.

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond…”

You swallow thickly and look up at Aemond again to plead. “<Aemond, my love, please.>”

Aemond blinks and meets your gaze briefly. You think he'll overreact, so you prepare yourself to try and calm him down, but he seems to find a solution to his conflict in your pleading gaze and sighs before he slowly sits back down to just listen.

“We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles.” Jacaerys makes a friendly toast and raises his cup, followed by Baela.

The awkward tension doesn't leave but you slowly drink to your brother's words while you wrap your hand around Aemond’s arm.

“To you as well,” Aegon adds awkwardly.

Now you want this to come to an end before things turn bad. Aemond is already more upset than he initially was. And you can’t just see it in his stiff body, and pursed lips, but he gives his emotions away by pulling his arm from your grasp, letting you know he’s upset that you were trying to stop him from overreacting.

You howbeit don’t take offense to his petty act, you find it funny and immediately put your hand over his again. Aemond slowly drags his eye to the side in annoyance, and you slowly do the same but shoot him a playful smirk when you meet his gaze.

Aemond sighs and looks away as he takes his hand away again, but you pull his hand down and rub his hand against your thigh before you lean close to his ear to whisper cockily. “You can be upset all you want, it makes for a more entertaining night.”

The corner of Aemond’s lips twitch to a smile, but he doesn’t let it show in front of the others.

“Just a little longer, okay?” You assure him and then press a kiss on his cheek before you look to your other side as Helaena gets up too.

“I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena,” Helaena says. “They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you…”

Aemond grips onto your thigh before you both share awkward glances due to his sister's speech.

“…except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

Scattered laughs spread around the table, but you just blink and glare over at Aegon.

“Let us have some music,” your grandfather brings an end to the toast, letting you turn to face Aemond.

“So I thought,” you tell him, gaining his full attention. “If my family doesn’t end up staying long, after Aerion and I come back from Dragonstone, we go to the vacation house. We can present Aerion to the countryside, just be alone and have calm nights, hm?” You share your idea.

Nevertheless, Aemond’s attention drifts behind you rather quickly, you follow his line of gaze and notice Jacaerys and Helaena starting to dance.

“Aw.” You grin. “How adorable.”

Aemond hums dryly, letting you know he didn't like it one bit, so you block his line of gaze and distract him. “So what do you say? After I come back, do you want to take a nice trip?”

Aemond sighs. “All right,” he agrees as he holds your gaze.

You beam at him and steal a kiss from his lips before you face the table again. Yet just before you can grab any food, a shadow gets cast over you, and Aemond’s grip on your thigh tightens.

“Sister,” you recognize Lucerys say, making you look over at him standing beside your chair with his hand out. “Would you like to dance?” He asks and slides his gaze to Aemond at your other side to shoot him a small smirk. “If that’s okay of course.”

Even though he is playing some stupid game to annoy Aemond, you gladly take your brother's hand and don’t even ask Aemond for permission because Lucerys is your little brother. You don’t need permission to dance with him. However, as you do follow Lucerys out to the floor you do feel Aemond’s gaze on you. When you come to a brief stop and grab your brother's hands, you look back and see exactly that, Aemond watching Lucerys and you carefully, as if your brother was going to suddenly just steal you or something.

Thus just to reassure Aemond of his ridiculous concern you offer him a soft smile before you begin to follow Lucerys’s lead.

“You’ve come a long way from dancing on my feet,” you tell Lucerys as you pull apart and continue to dance. “I’m impressed.”

“There’s not much to do at Dragonstone,” he comments whilst you both hook your arms around each other to spin slowly to the beat. “Besides, mother made us take lessons.”

You giggle. “Well, you’ll make your future wife very happy. It’s always impressive when a man is a willing dance partner.”

“Is it?” Lucerys asks curiously and steals a glance at Rhaena.

You nod. “It is. It’s a way to a woman’s heart. For some anyway.”

He laughs and meets your gaze with a serious look in his eyes. “What’s the other?”

You grin in awe and respond honestly. “Attention, so don't make her feel alone. Listening. Affection and humor.”

Lucerys hums softly before you link arms again and begin spinning slowly once more.

“Dragonstone wasn’t the same without you,” he says again. “We missed you.”

You hold his gaze and offer him a sweeter smile. “I missed you. I’m happy you haven’t changed, don’t let anyone change you.”

You proceed to grab each other's hands and dance around Helaena and Jacaerys before you turn back to back, lift your arms as if forming wings, and then pull away to turn to face each other again.

Before you can finish your dance though, you both come to a slow stop as you notice your grandfather getting carried. When he's being taken away, all you hear him do is groan in pain and you can't help but feel pity that he can’t be the man he once was.

At least he got to witness a part of this family dinner. As tense as it has been, it must've been nice after only seeing the same four walls, and laying in bed all day.

Nevertheless, after he is taken out of the room, a higher tension fills the room at the same time a roasted pig is brought in. Thus you don’t continue to dance in a tense-filled room, instead, you point to the table.

“Let’s go eat some dinner, hm?” You suggest.

Lucerys nods before laughing as he walks you to your chair. “You sound like mother.”

You flash him a simple happy smile before you take your seat beside Aemond and watch your brother return to his seat across the table. And now that you are seated, Aemond fixes his chair to the way it was before.

“I’m still here,” you tease him and take his hand once again. “But if you were so worried you should’ve danced with me.”

Aemond hums, making you snicker before you change the subject. “I have something I want to give you later. It…took me a long while to perfect, but I think you’ll like it.”

Aemond blinks in surprise before he turns his head to face you with confusion and curiosity. “What is it?” He asks.

You shrug softly and bat your lashes. “You just have to wait and see. Or I’ll tell you now if you dance with me?” You tease him with a smirk. “Hm?”

Aemond looks at the dance floor that Jacaerys and Helaena still occupy before meeting your gaze and letting out a deep sigh. “Fine.”

You blink in surprise and pull back. “Really?” You ask him now. “You’ll dance with me?”

Aemond nods. “I will.”

You beam at him with awe and excitement, but…just as you stand up, and before you can pull him up, his gaze drifts away for a second, only a few moments, but it’s long enough for him to catch something that pisses him off so much that he rips his arm from your grasp and slams his hand on the table, cutting off all noise that traveled within.

“Final tribute,” he interjects. “To the health of my nephews.”

Your smile fades completely and instead, you begin to nervously bite the inside of your cheek.

“Jace,” Aemond names. “Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” he trails off and takes a long pause while he stares Lucerys down again.

“Aemond,” you warn him without an ounce of softness in your tone this time.

But of course, he ignores you. “Hm,” he hums. “Strong.”

You clench your jaw and fill with anger; not because he dared to say that to them, there’s no need fueling those comments. You're mad because he ruined this supper. Couldn’t he just hold it in and silently just glare and hate? That’s what you’re doing with Daemon.

“Aemond,” his mother attempts to stop him too.

“Come,” Aemond continues and ignores Alicent as well. “Let us drain our cups to these three…strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again,” Jacaerys snaps at him angrily.

“Why?” Aemond counters and faces him with his cup raised. “‘Twas only a compliment.”

He breaks away from his spot and passes you to stride to Jacaerys. “Do you not think yourself strong?”

You know Jacaerys has a short temper, you know Aemond doesn’t hold back, so you slowly follow after him and try to plead again. “Aemond, please stop.”

Yet now rather than ending up being hit after trying to stop a fight, Jacaerys swings his fist across Aemond’s face.

Your eyes widen in shock, and you reach your hands out to help your husband, but nevertheless, the punch doesn’t seem to affect Aemond, he doesn’t even drop his wine or sway. So you have to admit that it's impressive, it really impresses you, but now isn't the time, besides as Jacaerys and Aemond confront each other, from the corner of your eye you catch Aegon slamming Lucerys face into the table.

Now rather than staying put and trying to plead, as if triggered by your brother's pain and the anger Aemond made you feel, you charge at Aegon without hesitation and quickly slam your hand on the back of his head and clutch a chunk of hair. You then grab his shoulder and yank him back harshly. When Aegon finds his footing he looks at you bewildered, but that expression is quickly wiped away as you proceed to swing your right fist across his face harshly, causing him to stumble back.

“Try that again,” you snap at Aegon.

Guards head over to you to try and stop you, but before they can try and touch you, a threatening “don’t,” is snapped at them.

You quickly dart your gaze to the side and see Daemon stop by you, challenging the guards with his glare alone.

Of course, the guards don’t dare and move toward you now, nor do they hold Aegon back—Not like he made any attempt to hit you back, he just holds his cheek in complete surprise. When he catches your gaze he pulls his hand away and you notice a small bleeding cut under his eye that you had made.

You should feel bad, but you don’t, you actually feel proud that you managed to hurt him. Besides Aegon doesn’t seem at all affected, he notices the blood and begins to chuckle before he walks away.

You scoff and roll your eyes, catching the guards failing to hold Jacaerys back now.

“…Though it seems my nephews aren’t so proud of there’s!” You hear Aemond exclaim, and when you look over you see him stride to Jacaerys, so you quickly turn around to face the scene, but before you can even think of getting in between them, your mother's hand falls on your wrist, stopping you.

“Wait! Wait!” Daemon interjects and nonchalantly strides in between both young men, making the both of them stop in their attempts to continue fighting. He then proceeds to face Jacaerys and walks him back without the need to say anything.

“Go to your quarters,” your mother orders your brothers and cousins behind you. “All of you. Now.”

You glance over your shoulder and watch them all leave. When they’re gone you focus back on Aemond and see him challenge Daemon’s glare in silence.

You tighten your hold around your mother's and watch them both carefully in anticipation, readying yourself in case either of them snap.

However, Aemond then hums and walks away, bringing the entire supper to a dramatic end.

“If you still wish to accompany us to Dragonstone, my Sweet,” your mother interjects. “Pack what you need, we’re leaving tonight.”

You watch Aemond leave out the hall before you look at your mother and nod in comprehension. “I will. I’ll see you in a bit.”

She nods in comprehension and lets you let her go so you can leave the hall after Aemond. Yet when you see him walking toward your chambers you make no attempt to pick up your pace to catch up to him, you keep your own pace behind him, and try to calm yourself down before walking into your shared quarters.

Nevertheless, you ultimately fail when you are in the privacy of your chambers. You don’t speak to another right away. You let a tension fill the room since Vanessa walks in only a few minutes later.

“Pack for two week's worth,” you let her know as you walk to your closet. “We won’t stay long. After that please put Wolf in his crate, we'll take him too, and then take Aerion, we’ll ride with my mother and dare I say it…my stepfather.” You sigh deeply.

“Right away, Princess,” Vanessa says and walks up behind you to take the gowns you were picking out from your hands. “Should I pack riding outfits?”

“Hm.” You think for a second and briefly glance at her. “Yes, just two.”

Vanessa nods, but she then stops what she’s doing and meets your gaze. “I can do it. I know you well, I won’t be long.”

You share a soft and relieved smile before you let her do her job. Yet now you return to the tension, but! Of course, Aemond doesn't look bothered by any of it!

You can be upset at one another and he always looks nonchalant, and it irks you! You want him to be mad at you, you want him to react, not just sit there and brood in front of the fire.

“Whatever it is you want to say,” Aemond suddenly makes you jump. “Say it. You’ll bleed if you bite your tongue any harder.”

You clasp your hands together and slowly begin to fiddle with your hands as you begin pacing with your mouth shut. Vanessa is still here and you don’t want to have an audience.

“Unless you want to leave upset,” he adds and keeps looking at the fire.

When you don’t respond, he presses as he finally peers back at you. “Hm?”

You stop pacing behind him and let out a frustrated breath, but don’t start just yet, you wait. It's not until Vanessa is out and no longer in the hall that you start and give him what he wants. “Why did you do it?” You mutter out in frustration.

Aemond remains as he is and gives you what you want. “I didn’t do anything, I gave a toast, your brother—”

“No,” you cut him off and storm around him to stand in front of him so he can see your anger. “No, don't bullshit me, Aemond. Seven hells, you antagonized them.”

Aemond finally meets your gaze, and you deepen your scowl.

“He hit me first,” he spats but in a very collected manner. “Or are you choosing not to see that?”

You shake your head. “I’m not siding with either of you. It was stupid that he hit you, and it was stupid of you to provoke him.”

Aemond blinks in surprise and finally chooses to slowly stand to his given his height as if trying to intimidate you, but you aren’t at all affected.

“I try to be understanding, I always have,” you continue to argue and step back as he steps forward. “I never try to take sides or try to tell you how to feel, but when you provoke them I can’t help but get mad at you. I told you to wait it out, just for dinner, but…” you trail off and shake your head. “You can’t even do that.”

“He hit me first, what did you want me to do?” He argues and takes a step towards you again, this time you stay put, this time you’re the nonchalant one, making him finally give you a reaction that you want because your calm demeanor pisses him off; you can tell by the way he clenches his jaw, flares his nose, and curls his thin lips.

“You hit Aegon, do you hear me remarking on that?” He spats.

You scoff. “I don’t give a shit about Aegon. Your brother is a bad man, he deserved it.”

“Did I?” He cuts in bluntly.

“No,” you quickly assure him. “No. But I wanted you to just listen. To me. I told you to sit through it. I didn’t say get over it, but you started it,” you stop again to catch your breath before you turn away to avoid shedding angry tears. “If you have so much hatred for my brothers then,” you pause and huff, shoving away all your anger with that huff of air and leaving yourself vulnerable. “…how can you honestly love me?”

Aemond hears the quiver in your voice and sighs, losing all his will to argue with anger, and growing weak and gentle at the mere shift in your emotions.

“You aren’t the same as them,” he says softly and grabs your shoulders.

You want to say what he’s thinking; a bastard, but you can’t, so you bite your tongue and watch the flames as if you’ll find your solace amongst them.

“You never have been,” Aemond continues. “You’ve never been cruel to me, not when we were kids. You never laughed at me because of what I lacked. Even when I lost my eye and people looked at me with disgust, you never scrunched your nose. When we got older and I was distant you still picked me.”

…well…

“That’s why I love you,” he says and turns you around to lift your head with his knuckle so you can meet his gaze and show you that he's being honest and vulnerable with you. “Forgive me for upsetting you. I won’t apologize for what I did, I would be lying if I did.”

You scoff and roll your eyes.

“But,” he adds and cups your face to keep you looking at him. “I am sorry for upsetting you.”

You hold his gaze and then can’t help but glance at his lips after those words leave his mouth, feeling a spark of desire coil inside you.

“Say you forgive me,” he whispers. “I don't want to leave things like this.”

You draw in a deep breath and touch his chest. “Just,” you breathe out. “Please stop provoking them. Stop with the snide comments. It’s okay to still be upset, I could never understand what you feel, and I could never ask you to forgive him, but please for me, for Aerion, just leave them alone,” you plead and press your other hand against his jaw. “You are better than that, Aemond. I know it. You have a good heart, you always have.”

Aemond’s gaze softens and he immediately presses his forehead against yours, letting you then slide your hands to the back of his head.

“I’m sorry too,” you add. “I shouldn't have gotten so angry at you.”

Aemond shakes his head and assures you softly. “There’s no need for apologies, not from you.”

You flash him a grin and then gently press your lips against his.

He actually doesn’t kiss you back right away, he savors the taste of your kiss since you’ll be leaving him for two weeks. It’s only when you’re about to pull back that he pulls you back in, leading you into a slow and gentle kiss that neither of you try to rush and instead let fuel your burning desires. You let your affection and need for each other control you. All you know is that you were going to be late meeting your mother and the rest of your family.

“I,” you say between the slow kisses. “I’m not bleeding. It was a false alarm. We can do this. I want you, so I can remember how you felt when I’m alone.”

Aemond chuckles softly and meets your gaze with a smirk. “I wouldn't have cared if you were.”

You mirror his gesture and before long those slow and sweet kisses turn rougher and sloppier, lighting your body on fire with desire, and putting his member at attention for you to drool over.

When he notices your hungry gaze he grabs the back of your hand and presses your palm over his clothed member. You smirk and turn your wrist to grab a hold of his aching cock, but leave him craving your touch, and instead, you strip down to nothing, making him walk back to sit on the couch and watch how the firelight captures your body so perfectly for only him to see.

When you’re left with nothing on but the jewelry you wear, you walk to him and simply unbuckle his pants and pull them down and let his cock spring out and fill your mind with so many dirty thoughts.

Unfortunately, most can’t come to flourish today though, you have to satisfy yourself with one thing so you’re not left in shambles without him in Dragonstone. Thus you saddle his hips and press a kiss on the corner of his lips.

Aemond groans in complaint as he wants more, and wants nothing more but to make each other one, but you must want to keep people waiting because you begin to leave a trail of kisses down to his neck, making a chill travel down his spine, and a wicked smirk to play on his lips.

“Fuck me,” you demand him. “So I can go to sleep tonight thinking about how good you make me feel when you’re inside me,” you whisper so seductively that his breath hitches and his hands fall on your hips to push you down to his aching member because he can’t go on not feeling you gummy walls.

He wanted you since the moment you placed his hand on your thigh, but he kept his patience, and now that you’re in the privacy of your room and he’s no longer bothered by the mere sight of the visitors around the table, all he wants is you; your lips, your breasts, and your aching cunt that weeps for him, that squeezes him so tight he groans in your mouth.

You’ve felt him many times before, but still, each time his cock goes in it’s like the first time; he’s so long.

“Wait, wait,” you pant and take his hand that he keeps on your hip, and bring it up to his face. When he figures out what you want, he grabs his eyepatch and pulls it off his head. Once the firelight gleams against his sapphire you smile sweetly and give him a taste of what he wants by rolling your hips, making him push himself deeper inside you as his breathing falters and his hand slides back to grab a handful of your ass.

“Aemond,” you can’t help but moan.

He bites his lip and once he has his composure he captures your lips and rolls his tongue inside before he starts thrusting his length inside you, making you stop your attempts to suck on his tongue and instead claw his shoulders.

Now that pleasure that coils feels like wildfire. You’re overwhelmed with pleasure in the best way possible, not being able to think about anything but the way his cock keeps rubbing against your walls as he moves in and out of you even if you’re the one on top

You don’t even want to lose touch with his wet lips because it adds to the sensation and the pleasuring fire, but you can’t hold it in, and he’s not moving his lips anymore because he’s so lost in his pleasure; you pull back, but stay connected by a string of saliva for a moment as you catch your breath before you throw your head back and start to moan his name like prayer as his cock keeps penetrating you roughly.

“So perfect. So perfectly made for…me,” he babbles on with a half-lidded eye. “Fuck,” he hisses and grips your ass, leaving marks that you can’t feel because of how lost you are in the sensation of his cock bullying inside you.

You don’t bother to do any work until he fits himself all the way inside and hits that heavenly g-spot.

“Aemond, please,” you beg before you lean back and grab his thighs to start bouncing for him, leaving you in a perfect angle for him to watch how your tits bounce with your delicious movements.

He could keep watching you all day, but you have him too fired up, his insides are turning and threatening to snap, and two weeks without your touch is hell, so he cups your breasts and begins messaging them as he thrusts up to meet your hips, creating obscene sounds of skin slapping that echo around the room.

“Aemond,” you whine, making him moan to the ceiling and move faster.

You keep whining his name as the tip of his cock keeps hitting that perfect spot that is about to tip everything over and bring an end to this quick goodbye sex. And hearing him heave and moan your name isn’t helping, you begin to squeeze tighter, driving him further to the edge, and only fueling his roughness.

You want to prolong this moment, keep feeling him inside your guts, but the time is ticking and they will leave you behind, so you lean in and continue to kiss him, finding his weakness by pushing your tongue in his open-mouthed kiss.

Aemond lets out a throaty groan and starts rolling your hips for you, bringing you to a stop as you can’t hold it back anymore, a blinding pleasure slams in you, and all you see are stars as you drown his cock with your warm cum. He doesn’t last longer either, he grows sloppier, and his breathing grows ragged until he snaps and moans inside your mouth as he spills his hot seed inside you.

After a few sloppy thrusts, he falls back on the couch and you fall on his chest and hang your hands around his neck.

“I will never get tired of this,” you murmur as you caress the back of his neck and lose your gaze on the fire in the distance that makes you both gleam because of the sweat that sticks to your skin. “This is better than flying.”

Aemond chuckles. “I have to admit it is,” he says in that low voice that works to lure you and tempts you to go for a second round. But you hold back for the sake of your waiting family and instead smile and press a kiss on his shoulder before you pull back to face him.

“Once we move to Dragonstone, you will get tired of me.”

Aemond scoffs. “I never could. Never.”

You offer him a soft smile before you grab his shoulders as you remember something. “That’s right! My present!” You giggle and then slip off, making you both groan and leaving you both feeling empty.

Even so, you take no time to think about the chill or the good way you ache, you excitedly run to the chest in your room.

Aemond watches your naked body with a smirk and a craving for more.

“Since we did get married so suddenly I couldn’t have this made before, but…” you trail off and pull out a long-sheathed weapon. “…I do have it now. That’s what counts.”

You turn around and show off the sheathed sword. “This is for you, my love.”

You rush back to him, but he meets you halfway after pulling his pants on so you won't have to carry it all the way to him.

“I do hope you like it,” your voice grows quieter with worry and insecurity. “And any adjustments you may need let the smith know.”

Aemond takes the sheathed weapon from you with hesitance as if he doesn’t believe you’re being honest.

“Come on,” you encourage him. “Open it.”

Aemond takes a moment and looks at you first with awe before he unwraps the pommel first, showing off a dragon's head that is shaped like Vhagar.

You can’t contain your excitement even if you don’t know if he’ll like it, and point at the gems where the eyes are meant to be. “Tiny green emeralds for the eyes because your dragon is green,” you grin and shake his arm. “Go on, reveal the blade!”

Aemond drops his gaze and can’t hide his grin as he unsheathes the long blade that glimmers brightly against the fire's light.

“Now,” you add as you wrap your arms around his neck to admire the silver metal mixes with the dark metal that is Valyrian steel. “I know it isn't fully Valyrian Steel, but…I used my chain necklace to mix some in. Now you’ll always carry a bit of me with you, even when we’re apart.”

You look at him and admire him using his finger to trace the dark metal elegantly swirled in the blade.

“Do you like it?” You whisper and watch for any slight twitch on his face that could give away that he doesn’t.

However, Aemond doesn't let you read the side of his face too long at all because he lifts his gaze as he puts the sword down and turns around to face you with a soft awestruck smile that he only lets you see.

He's usually so stiff and nonchalant because there’s almost always people around, but when it’s just Aerion, and you, he lets go, he laughs with such deep and genuine amusement and lets his blue eye glimmer adoration that makes it hard not to fall in love with him.

“I love it,” he says before he kisses you. Yet it doesn’t last long because he pulls back and whispers against your lips. “I love you.”

You smile with awe and don’t hesitate to repeat those words that once tasted bitter when you spoke them to him. “I love you too. Now and forever.” You mean your words of affection. Truly.

“Now and forever,” he repeats.

With one more kiss from his lips, you then quickly dress yourself and fix what was messed up. Before leaving to meet with your mother though, you prolong the moment longer by bringing in Aerion.

“Now my sweet boy,” you tell him. “Say goodbye to your father.”

Aerion eyes fill with tears and his pout trembles as your words make sense in his mind.

“You’ll sleep again soon enough,” Aemond assures the cranky baby. “I’ll see you in two week's time.” He presses a kiss on Aerion’s head of curls and caresses his cheek one more time before he gives you attention. “Send a Raven if anything happens. I’ll write to you later.”

You nod and steal one more kiss, but linger in each other's taste before you pull away and force yourself to leave before you change your mind and stay with Aemond.

Once you finally meet up with your family to leave, Jacaerys groans. “What took you so long?” He complains.

You shoot him a glare and shake your head. “Don’t worry about it,” you brush him off.

Since your mother is already waiting in the carriage you quickly climb in with Aerion and apologize to her only once you’re sat down. You completely ignore Daemon.

“Sorry,” you breathe out. “We can leave now.”

The carriage door closes behind Lucerys and both of your brothers squeeze in with you even if there’s more space in this moving carriage beside your mother, or quite literally on the same bench.

“Come on little prince,” Jacaerys says and reaches over to take Aerion from you.

Aerion frowns at him albeit and looks away.

“Oh, I see,” Jacaerys murmurs and hits his hands on his thighs. “He takes after his father then.”

You scoff and shake your head. “No,” you counter quickly and smile at your baby boy. “He just got woken up from his slumber. He’s just cranky, aren’t you? But after he gets his sleep then he’ll let you carry him.”

You lift Aerion to get him comfortable, but before you can cradle him in your arms, your mother interjects. “Give him here, I can put him to sleep.”

“Okay,” you whisper happily and hand her your baby.

You expect him to cry or try to reach out for you, but his eyes just water for a moment before he exhales deeply and gets comfortable in your mother's arms.

“He just didn’t like you,” Lucerys teases Jacaerys. “It’s a you thing.”

You snicker and both Lucerys and you nudge him.

“Sure,” Jacaerys grumbles and rolls his eyes. “Anyway!” He speaks louder and hits his thighs again. “Let’s change the subject to what I heard happen tonight.”

They heard Aemond and you making love?

Couldn’t be, they're not on the same floor—seven hells. Your balcony door was open though…

“I heard you punched Aegon.”

Oh, oh! Good. That was scary for a moment.

“Yes, she did,” Lucerys cuts in with excitement. “That ring of hers cut him.”

You begin to smirk. “He deserved it,” you say smugly. “But I can’t brag…he’s a weak fighter. You can even take him,” you playfully jab at Jacaerys.

Your brother shoots you a pointed look, and Lucerys snickers.

“How did you learn to hit like that?” Daemon interrupts, causing your amusement to flicker with annoyance and distaste—“the swing seemed practiced.”

“From lurking in the shadows like a creep,” Jacaerys blurts to try and get back at you.

You roll your eyes and push him away. You don’t want to answer, but your mother is here and she’s also waiting for your answer with Aerion falling asleep in her arms, so as to not upset her, you spare one glance at Daemon and respond.

“I learned when I was young…since I’m a Princess I wasn’t allowed to train like the boys, so,” you sigh and smirk at him. “I watched everything they did and taught myself to do it better.”

A proud smile tugs on your mother's lips, and even if you don’t want to notice, a smirk flashes on Daemon’s lips.

“Besides,” you add and grin brightly. “Ser Harwin always said that nothing is more powerful than a strong right hook. He taught me how to throw a punch.”

“We’ll see how good you are with a sword,” Jacaerys taunts you, pulling your attention to him.

“Yeah,” you give in to his offer smugly. “We’ll see.”

——

*A DAY LATER. DRAGONSTONE*

Every day at King’s Landing can never measure up to moments like these with your family. You’ve missed it, all of the chaos and the comfortable atmosphere. Even if you have your differences with Daemon, his presence doesn’t bother you as much—you don’t let it bother you as much anyway.

At King’s Landing with Aemond’s family, it’s always so awkward, they’re never together as one. They spend breakfasts apart, dinners are hardly eaten together and there’s always some kind of uncomfortable tension. It’s why you just spend time alone with Aemond and Aerion, being with the Queen, her father, and the other kids is awkward. Besides, no one at King’s Landing besides Vanessa knows how to style your hair.

“Higher. Raise your blade higher!” Jacaerys scolds Lucerys.

“Mother,” you break your silence and look away from your brothers sparring to mindlessly watch the sand.

She hums in response, letting you continue.

“In our family history,” you pause and blink to glance over at Rhaena playing with Aerion. “Has there ever been Targaryen’s who may be…immune to fire?”

There has to be an answer for the impossible things you’ve noticed. A small mention in your history books.

“Hm, not that I can recall,” she responds and reaches down to pick up a golden cuff from your palm to put it on your hair. “We are known to tolerate heat more than an average person can, but no, there haven’t been any fire-immune Targaryen’s recorded. If there had been we would have known, right?”

Nothing but more questions.

“That’s right,” you agree softly and return your gaze to your brothers.

“Why?” She asks and leans closer to you. “Any particular reason?”

You debate telling her what you have been discovering about yourself lately, but you can’t tell her what you aren’t sure of yet, you'll sound mad without hard proof. What if you just have a higher tolerance than others who have come before you? You need to learn more before you can tell her or anyone else.

“Just curious,” you simply avoid the truth.

“Well you can always try the library,” she offers some aid as she reaches down to grab the last golden cuff from your palm before parting her lips again. “You can also ask Daemon those questions. He knows a lot more than I do. He spends a lot of time reading about our history.”

She’s attempting to have her husband and you bond again. She started this ridiculous mission when you climbed on the ship to come here.

And as thoughtful as her attempts are, she can wipe your father's blood off Daemon's hands, her attempts are futile, but you don’t want to discourage her yet so you just hum to keep her assured.

“Princess,” a different voice suddenly interjects, pulling the attention of all four of you seated on the sand—“A raven came to you from King’s Landing.”

The maester approaches your family and much to your surprise he comes to a stop beside you with the small scroll in his hands.

You immediately smile since you know exactly who it’s from, and quickly push yourself to your feet to gently take the scroll from his hand. “Thank you, Maester.” You tell him sweetly before sitting back down to read what Aemond wrote.

“My love, I write to you urgently to command you to return home at once.

Aemond.”

“Oh,” Baela says teasingly. “A raven from your beloved. What does he say? He beckons you home already?”

You blink repeatedly in confusion, finding his urgency concerning. Yet you don’t feel rushed to return home to him; you just arrived at Dragonstone and you told him two weeks. Besides, what if he’s just being difficult because of his indifferences with your family?

Tsk. He can wait.

“He just misses me,” you retort with a smile and roll the scroll back to tuck it in the bracelet cuff around your bicep. “He can stay missing me for the next two weeks.”

Baela snickers.

“I'm glad you can bring out something good from him,” your mother interjects. “Gods know how much Alicent poisons them.”

You mindlessly begin to fiddle with your ring around your finger and query. “You really think so?”

“Yes, I saw it, the way he looks at you. The eyes never lie.”

The corner of your lips tug to a soft flattered smile and your heart skips a beat.

“You!” You hear Jacaerys exclaim, and when you lift your gaze you see that he’s pointing at you.

“Come spar against me,” he taunts you and lowers his arm. “You keep saying you’re good, but I have yet to see it. Your words mean nothing unless you show us.”

You share an amused look with Baela before you shrug nonchalantly. “I’m not so sure now. I wouldn’t want to hurt your ego in front of your betrothed. Just…believe me and leave it at that, dear brother.” You tease him lightheartedly as you cross your legs over the other and lean back on your hands.

“Then you’re not good,” he counters smugly, knowing how to lure you in. “Accept my challenge and show me you are this great swordsman and I will shut up about it. Or don’t and I will annoy you forever and you reign you a liar.”

You roll your head back to pretend that his plan didn’t work the way he wanted it to, and quip, “you already do annoy me. But,” you sigh and sit up. “Fine, only so you’ll shut up about it.”

You walk to your brother nonchalantly as if you're not excited to show your skill, or happy that he wasn't a stickler for stupid sexist rules. When you pass by Lucerys you motion him to give you his sparring sword.

“Be careful,” your little brother says over his shoulder.

“You won’t change?” Jacaerys points to your gown.

You shake your head. “Don’t need to. I can beat you with it on.”

You shoot him a smirk and choose to stand across from him on the sand. “I won’t go easy just so you know,” you let him know. “I will play by your training rules though just so you won’t get hurt.”

“As if,” he grumbles while he fixes his grip around his blade.

You roll your shoulders back and shift your feet in the way Aemond stands. You then narrow your gaze on your brother and wait for his first move.

Thankfully, he grows impatient right away so he comes charging at you right away. When he gets close he swings at your neck, but you duck and then spin around him quickly.

Jacaerys watches you get away and quickly tries to meet your next move before you can give it away, but you surprise him by clawing one hand on his shoulder and using your other hand to grip his arm to shove him down.

Right away rather than staying down and giving you a path to a quick feat, Jacaerys rapidly pushes himself up and thrusts his sword at your side, but you manage to block him and then use your leg to kick him back.

Jacaerys glances down at his throbbing chest and quickly finds you again to flash a bothered frown that he's holding back from showing his impressed smile. You on the other hand shoot him a smug grin to work him up.

And just like you thought, he can't stand your cocky smile, it offends him too much so he comes at you again, and swings down this time, but you avert his blade by turning to the side.

That swift move infuriates him more so he uses his anger to keep swinging, but you just keep swerving his swings.

“Fight back,” he growls.

You click your tongue and roll out, “fight better.”

This time, however, you actually do as he says and charge at him before swinging up. Jacaerys brings his sword over to block you, but at the last second, you trick him and end up spinning around him, managing to hit his arm harshly with your blade before you face his back.

Your brother hisses and grabs his arm, but doesn't stop from trying to attack. You don’t let him move though, instead, you kick him down to the sand and proceed to stride over to him to flip him around and point your sword at his throat.

“What do I win?” You ask proudly.

Jacaerys huffs out in annoyance and throws his sword aside, letting you do the same to offer him your hand.

“Come on, get up,” you offer without that teasing air in your voice.

Your brother sighs deeply in defeat and seems to hesitate, but he ends up taking your hand to let you help him back to his feet.

“You did good,” you compliment him seriously. “A lot better than six years ago that’s for sure.”

Jacaerys snatches his hand away from yours and glances behind you, you follow his line of gaze and catch Daemon is now watching, but you ignore him and focus on your mother's smile instead while she holds Aerion now.

“You…did good too,” Jacaerys redirects quietly as he scratches the back of his head.

You giggle and shove past him to pick up the sword from the ground.

“You did good, Princess,” Daemon interjects, interrupting the pleasurable moment you had been sharing with your family. “But you can do better.”

His footsteps hit the sandy surface and approach you. When he stops near you his shadow casts over you, and your anger breaks out of that little box you wanted to contain it in for the purpose of this trip to go well.

“I don’t need your help,” you snap at him and don’t fret to meet his gaze with a burning glare.

You would have snapped at him and called him a murderer, but you don’t have evidence and you still don’t want to ruin this trip, so you just clench your jaw and stab the sword in the sand before you shove past him and stomp over to your son.

Your mother calls out to you and tries to talk to you, but you just gently take Aerion from her since your anger is not directed at her.

“Come on baby, let’s get you inside,” you whisper to your baby boy and then storm away.

Your mother calls out to you desperately, but you ignore her, and instead of going inside as you said, you take a detour to the hill by the castle when you catch Astraea resting.

“<Hello, girl,>” you greet the dragon as you press your forehead against her jaw.

Astraea growls softly and leans against you, making you smile softly and that frustration melt away.

“Do you want to feel her?” You ask Aerion and then grab his little hand to press it against Astrea’s hard purple scales.

Aerion grins brightly and kicks his feet, he tries to laugh, but he can’t do so just yet so he just gapes like a fish.

“<Goodgirl.>” You praise your dragon in High Valyrian before approaching footsteps interrupt your peace and work to deteriorate all the joy had felt.

Albeit when you check who’s approaching you’re relieved to see it’s just your brothers, and ashamed to say you got worked up without looking at who it was.

“I won’t apologize,” you mutter, knowing that your mother probably sent them to address your previous dramatic scene. “I just need time.” You say and turn to drag yourself down to the ground beside your dragon's head.

“We aren’t here you tell you to apologize,” Jacaerys rebuttals as both he and Lucerys slow down to a stop before you and Aerion. “Nor do I think Daemon cares if you do.”

You turn Aerion around so he can face you, and begin making faces at him so he can smile.

“We've come to tell you that we understand,” Lucerys shares, making you blink repeatedly. “We understand your anger and distance.”

You keep a lighthearted expression for Aerion’s sake, but your voice tells your anger and sadness. “How can you do it? Look at him in the eye every day after what he did?” You can’t help but ask without even a little explanation, you were angry, but they’re also old now, they grasp things better, they understand a lot more than before, and they must suspect what you do.

“What did he do?” Lucerys asks innocently, but you don’t hold back for his sake.

“He killed father to marry mother.”

“Your father,” Jacaerys deadpans. “Laenor was only your father.”

You snap your head to the side and look at him with a pointed glare. “Does that matter? He still raised you, he was still there and Daemon took him away. So how can you do it? Because I can’t…look him in the eye without thinking of father, without wanting to kill him.”

Jacaerys and Lucerys share a brief look before they sit with you. They remain silent for a while, most likely trying to find what to say to try and ease the pain you express to them for the first time.

“I can’t say I haven’t thought about that,” Jacaerys admits softly. “I don’t trust Daemon, but there’s nothing we can do about theories. We have no evidence, and he…makes mother happy.”

You sigh deeply and look down at Aerion watching you. “I know,” you whisper and look up at the sky to avoid crying. “I just have to suck it up. But…you don’t think I’m mad for holding that against him right?” You can't help but ask and look at both of your brothers and wait.

Lucerys meets your gaze and a variety of emotions run behind his eyes before he slowly shakes his head. “No, we—I understand why you’re angry, and it’s okay. You can be mad at him all you want.”

You hold his gaze before you share a soft admiring grin. “You've really grown up, huh?”

Lucerys scoffs softly. “It’s been six years,” he says timidly nonetheless.

You nod slowly in comprehension and glance down at Aerion with a soft smile before you glance at your brothers. “Thank you for coming up to talk to me, and trying to understand.”

Lucerys offers you a soft smile, and Jacaerys averts his gaze to interject. “We stand with you, sister. We need you to know that.” He goes quiet and slowly lowers his gaze to lock his eyes on you and finish. “On this matter, and all the others you may face.”

Lucerys nods in agreement, making your eyes fill with happy tears. “Thank you,” you mewl.

“Don’t cry,” Jacaerys mumbles uncomfortably.

You laugh and shake your head. “I won’t.”

You wipe away a stray tear and hide your face by looking down at Aerion putting a strand of your hair in his mouth. “Just let me enjoy this moment.”

At least now you know you don’t stand alone in the anger against Daemon.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

The difference between Jacaerys and Lucery's fighting style is that Lucerys is a bit too gentle and too slow, and Jacaerys is too angry and doesn’t try to be tactical. Jacaerys puts up a fight unlike Lucerys, who leaves himself too open. It’s why you find a way to shove his dominant hand before you raise your leg and kick him back on the sand.

“Lucerys,” you breathe out slowly.

Said boy groans and manages to hastily push himself up. “I know,” he grumbles in disappointment.

You walk over to him and grab his arm to help him to his feet. “You left yourself too open,” you point out the mistakes you caught. “Don’t think too much about it either, or else your enemy will get you a lot faster.”

Lucerys nods in comprehension and you can't stay too stoic, you offer him a small smile and pat his shoulder. “You did better this time though.” You assure him before you walk past him.

“You are speaking to him too gently,” Jacaerys scolds you as he takes your spot across Lucerys. “He won’t get any better that way.”

You spin around as you walk past him and shrug. “He won’t learn anything if you’re mean either,” you counter and plop yourself on the sand to watch Jacaerys spar against Lucerys now.

Once again Jacaerys is too aggressive, and Lucerys is too slow to catch up to his brother. It’s almost too hard to watch, you hate seeing Lucerys get hurt, but you watch for his sake so you can teach him his mistakes in ways Jacaerys is too impatient to do.

“What. Was. That?” Jacaerys spats as he shoves Lucerys to the ground.

“I'm sorry,” Lucerys grunts.

“You might go easier on him, my Prince,” an older Kingsguard knight interjects as he walks to your brothers. “So he can learn what you’re trying to teach.”

You hum in agreement.

“Your lady mother needs to see you!” The sound of your grandmother's voice carries out through the wind, stealing everyone’s attention and catching all of you by surprise. “The three of you!”

You had seen Meleys arrive not so long ago, but her armor wasn’t something you expected her to be wearing. Nor did you expect her to come see you all so soon. Should it be concerning?

“Is everything all right?” You ask your grandmother once you reach her under the cave.

Your grandmother Rhaenys lets out a deep sigh and points to where the castle is. “Go on, she needs you.”

That didn’t help anything whatsoever.

“All—”

“Have you received any news from your husband?” She cuts you off.

You blink in confusion and answer quietly. “No. Just a raven to demand me back home…why?”

She simply holds your gaze and answers nonchalantly. “I’m sure your mother will explain. Now go, all three of you.”

You share a concerned look with your brothers before you hurry into the castle and do as she says. Once inside you look out for anything suspicious, but Dragonstone is quiet as usual, there’s nothing out of the ordinary.

That is true until you begin to approach your mother's chambers because as soon as you get close you hear grunts and cries of pain echoing out. When you make it inside her quarters you instantly freeze as you notice she’s in a birthing gown, bathed in sweat, and grabbing onto her waist to ease whatever pain she can.

“Mother?” Jacaerys calls out because you can’t muster even a breath.

“Fuck,” your mother groans.

The babe isn’t meant to come out yet.

“Princess,” Maester Gerardys calls out to your mother distracted by her pain.

When she slowly turns to face you and your brothers, you let out a shaky breath and climb down the stone stairs to fall by Jacaerys side and be under your mother's gaze as well.

“Your grandsire, King Viserys, has passed,” she announces with strain, making you gasp.

“V-Viserys?” Lucerys repeats in disbelief, whilst you try to progress the tragic news in silence.

Is that why—Aemond knew, didn't he? That’s why he wanted you home only a day after you left. He knew and he didn’t say a thing.

“The Greens have repudiated the succession,” your mother adds what was beginning to come across your mind. “And claimed the Iron Throne.”

The maester leaves hastily, and more grief piles on you, making it hard to breathe properly.

“Aegon has been crowned King.”

That drunk, rapist with no sense of any kind of responsibility?

“What is to be done about it?” Jacaerys asks what ran through your mind.

“Nothing yet,” your mother says.

“Where is Daemon?”

“I don’t know,” your mother's voice quivers. “Gone to madness.” She shakes her head. “Gone to plot his war.”

“Leave daemon with me,” Jacaerys cuts in and turns on his heels to storm off, taking Lucerys with him, while you stay there frozen to your spot, trying to wrap your mind around your grandfather's death and Aemond’s betrayal.

“Jace,” your mother calls out, but he doesn’t stop—“Jacaerys!”

You blink and slowly look at the entrance and watch him stop and turn to face your mother.

“Whatever claim remains to me,” she says through her pain. “You are now its heir. Naught is to be done but by my command.”

Jacaerys nods stiffly and lingers there for a few more seconds before he walks away to do as he had thrown out moments ago, and you…you look back at your mother and feel your heart sink. Whatever grief and anger you feel over the news, you shove that aside for now and rush to her side.

“I’m here,” you assure her as she begins grunting and crouching down. “I’m here.”

You grab her arm and hook it around your neck. “We should try sitting down, or lying,” you suggest.

Your mother shakes her head and clutches onto your shoulder as another wave of pain hits her.

What could you do to ease her pain? What can you do to make her feel more comfortable at this very moment? She cries and groans, she paces mindlessly trying to relieve herself of the pain, but the babe refuses to come out.

You’ve been through the pain of birth now, you know how much it hurts to have someone come out of your own body. You’ve also witnessed it after Lady Arra suffered through it for hours, but at this very moment, as your mother suffers through early labor, labor is still something you can’t comprehend, something you can’t find words for.

No matter how much you plead to let her ladies-in-waiting help her, she refuses. She refuses water and doesn't let you lay her down. All you can do is walk with her, hold her as she pushes, and hear her as the pain seems to become worse. She even calls out for Daemon, probably so he can comfort her, or so she can give him orders, but he never comes.

Not like that surprises you, not because of how you think he might be, but because he is a man. Men aren’t usually a part of the labor process, Cregan wasn’t there for Arra, and Aemond only came to you after you asked for him; you were so afraid you were going to die and Alicent refused to let your mother go to you, so all you wanted then was Aemond.

You can’t lie and say Cregan didn’t come to mind, he always had a way to comfort you with so much ease. He didn’t struggle like Aemond did, but you never let his name slip when you were on your birthing bed. And when Aemond was there you were grateful that he was and that he found it in himself to try as best as he could. So maybe that’s all you can do now too, try your best for your mother.

You rub her back and move her hair behind her shoulders so it isn’t bothering her. You let her squeeze your hand as hard as she wants and never let her go. There comes a point through her painful pushing that she finally lets you drag her down to the ground, but you can hear her cries are full of much more heightened pain, and the blood that stained the bottom half of her body becomes much more.

“Princess let us help you,” her handmaiden, Elinda pleads, but your mother doesn’t pay them any attention.

“Get out!” She bellows as she lifts her gown. “Get out!”

“Princess please.”

You slide your mother's arm off your body and crawl forward to help her, but she pushes away from you.

“Mother,” you beg between tears you try your hardest to fight away.

“Let us help you,” Elinda continues to press.

Your mother reaches out for your hand, and you quickly return to her side and let her clutch onto you as she screams sharply while she pushes out harder.

Now, however, with this push, blood pours out from her, surrounding your feet and staining the sheer white gown you put over your black training outfit. You want to help her pull the babe out, but she refuses your help and pulls out the baby herself with a long and painful cry.

The moment the baby girl comes out, that pain that riddled her body seems to ease, but the grief that hits her upon seeing the babe is probably worse than her pain.

The babe is so small, her bones are clearly prominent against her skin. There’s bumps you can’t identify poking out of her head, and her skin is…scaly, unlike anything you’ve seen on a human child; It looks like a dragon's skin. Yet throughout all that observation, you still search for a sign of life, you wait to see your baby sister's chest move…but her eyes never open, and a cry never fills the room.

It’s so deafeningly quiet now, your mother doesn’t cry anymore and the handmaidens don’t plead to help. And the baby, little Visenya is so still, so incredibly still. There’s nothing you can do now but be there and cradle your mother as she cradles Visenya’s body.

You don’t say anything, quiet tears stream out of your eyes—tears brought by your own grandfather's death, by the betrayal jabbing your heart, and by your sister's death before she could even take her own breath.

Even so, as paralyzed as you are, you find the strength to press a gentle kiss on the side of your mother's head and let her rest her head against yours as she sits there.

Who knows how much time passed before you moved, but even then your mind is moving too fast to grasp anything at all. It feels like you’re outside of your body just watching it move throughout the castle halls. And funny enough, the only person you want to comfort you is Aemond; the man who helped his brother usurp your mother's throne. You want him with you, hugging you and telling you that it will all be fine, you want him with you.

Flying home even crosses your mind, you want to run into his arms and let him hold you, you want to breathe in his charming scent, and tell him that you’re not really mad at him for what Aegon did, you know the influence his mother holds, and that poisoned him at a young age. You don’t blame him for Aegon’s coronation, you’re just upset that he didn’t say anything.

You still wouldn't side with the Greens though, not only because Aegon makes a terrible ruler, but because your mother is the true heir, your grandfather deemed it that way and never declared otherwise, his word is law and they broke it.

So much for following the rules.

Alas, Aemond can’t be here, and you can’t leave. Your mother needs you, and…if it’s a war that will break out then you want to fight for the right side.

So after a short bath and a change of clothes, you and your three brothers walk out and join your mother and Daemon for the funeral on a stony hill. Other people stand behind your mother and Daemon too; the other residents who live here, a couple of workers, your cousins of course, and your grandmother stands behind the crowd watching the pyre burn in silence

The moment is quiet, deafening so. You can even hear the flames from where you stand, the gentle breaths of your brothers near you, the waves lapping in the distance. After a while though, the sound of swords unsheathing breaks through the grieving silence. You break away from your stupor and see a knight of the Kingsguard who's not a part of the three that were already here walk up the hill.

“I mean no harm, brothers,” the man announces before he takes his helmet off.

Since you stand to the side it’s hard to identify who he is, so before your curiosity can kill you, you step forward and that’s when you see that it’s one of the twins; Ser Eryyk. He kneels before your mother and takes out…your grandfather's golden crown from his satchel.

“I swore to ward the Queen,” he doesn’t wait to proclaim loudly and with confidence. “With all my strength, and give my blood for hers….”

You gasp softly in disbelief, but you can’t help a proud smile from forming on your face.

It’s good that someone isn't afraid to break away from the man who calls himself King, that someone is loyal to your mother; the true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

“I shall take no wife,” Ser Eryyk continues to preach his oath. “Hold no lands…father no children. I shall guard her secrets…obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honor.”

You look at your mother and watch Daemon approach her with the crown. For once you watch him with pride and glee as he sits the golden crown over your mother's head before he kneels before her.

Your mother does seem a bit shocked that she’s getting crowned, but when it seems to pass you catch her eyes lift to the crowd as they start to kneel before her and declare their loyalty. Her eyes then find you and your brothers, and they proceed to bend the knee too. When her eyes then lock with yours, you shoot her a small proud smile before you lift your skirt and bend the knee before your Queen, making your choice between both sides clear to her and everyone else. She is your Queen from now and until the end.

——

*LATER*

There are words in high Valyrian that are often used in Velaryon funerals, “From the Sea we came, to Sea we shall return.”

You never really found deeper meaning behind those words, not even when your aunt Laena died. They were beautiful, and a part of your beliefs as a Velaryon, but they were words until your father was the one who returned to the Sea.

Now all you do is desperately look for him. He wasn’t put to rest in Dragonstone, he was put to rest in the sea around Driftmark, next to his sister, but he became one with the sea after death, he is everywhere the water touches, from here, to the coldest waters far North, beyond the tall wall.

Yet no matter how long you stand in the dark waters, all you feel is cold water hitting your legs and weighing your gown, you just feel the cold wet sand between your toes, and a sharp, unfriendly breeze sway you back. There’s no sign of your father's presence to comfort you when you need him the most.

Can't he see that you still love Aemond even if he betray your mother and in turn you? Doesn’t he know you lost a sister, and your mother got her throne usurped? Doesn’t he know you need him now?

Why can’t he be here to embrace you? Why can’t you feel his presence in this vast Sea? You ask yourself in your mind as if a response is given to your inner thoughts, your name is called out and travels over the sound of crashing waves.

You peer back and see your grandmother watching you with a hint of pity and also a bit of disbelief as she recalls his son within you.

“It’s cold, come out,” she urges and only takes a step forward so she won’t get wet.

You look back at the endless Sea, letting the breeze blow through your hair and over your face; drying the tears that roll down your cheeks. You hope to feel a sliver of your father's presence but…you’re left feeling empty, so you trudge out of the water and get met with hands on your shoulders.

“I miss him now more than ever,” you tell your grandmother with a quivering voice.

Your grandmother lets out a deep breath and nods gently as she moves her hands up to cup your cheeks and wipe away your tears.

“Me too,” she makes you feel less alone in your longing. “I’ll say that I see him in you all the time. And in your son. He’s still with us.”

You slowly meet her gaze and offer her a faint smile. Can you say you feel completely and totally comforted? No, nothing can ever heal the wound your father's loss left, but her words do bring you peace.

“Can I ask how you’re feeling? You must be torn,” your grandmother asks out of concern.

You sigh and shrug. “I know my side,” you confess that confidently, but you avert your gaze when it comes to bringing up Aemond. “But when I think about Aemond, my heart still races, and I'm still riddled with my love for him, but…I know where his loyalties lie and that he’ll never change and that confuses me because I want to be with him, but also support my mother…I don’t know what to do.”

Your grandmother caresses your cheeks and then slides her hands to cradle your shoulders and keep you facing her. “I could tell you to run back to his arms, I know love. I know you want to be a family for your son.” She nods softly but narrows his gaze to show determination. “But this strain right now will turn into war. You must think if you want to be locked inside a cage of their making, or be free here.”

You don’t want to be locked away, and you know…you can be certain that returning to Kings Landing will guarantee you a seat in a golden cage where Helaena sits because you can’t see Aegons council trusting you. Aemond would trust you after you took a moment to talk, and whisper sweet nothings in his ear, but he’s still no king. And you can’t see yourself soaring free unless he somehow takes control, or has a hand in controlling Aegon, otherwise they would most likely lock you away, and you can’t accept it. You won’t.

But Aemond…you want to see Aemond again…

“I see,” is all you can find yourself to tell your grandmother, and she doesn’t seem convinced but it can’t be easy coming to terms with your choice when there’s someone on the other side pulling you back.

“Let’s head inside the meeting should be starting soon, that’s why I came to fetch you,” she changes the subject so you wouldn’t be thinking about the subject a moment longer.

But you still have a lingering worry about Aemond so before you can walk inside the meeting room you share it with someone you know you can trust. “What if they demand Aerion’s return? Or worse they come and take him? He is Aemond’s son after all.”

She faces you with a smirk on her lips and she grabs your hands to reassure your concern. “They can try. They won’t reach my great-grandson, or you.”

You offer her an appreciative smile and walk inside reassured. You know she hasn’t faced war before, but she’s still fierce and a dragon rider you’d trust with your life.

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Daemon announces while your mother enters the hall with four guards stiffly around her. “First of Her Name. Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”

You bow your head after he finishes, like everyone else in the room.

“Your Grace.” Daemon addresses her.

You lift your head and watch her approach the table shaped like the Westeros map, but then see her come to a stop as Rhaena approaches her with a goblet. “Wine, my Queen.”

You see your mother hesitate before she takes the goblet from Rhaena. “Thank you, Rhaena. Come,” she points to the table.

When she passes by Baela, she motions her over as well, letting her fall right by your side while you stand by your mother when she reaches the table.

However, when your mother does reach the table she stands in silence, you look over at her out of curiosity, thinking that maybe she’s taking in the markers on the map, but her gaze is taking in everyone around the table first before she finally breaks the silence.

“What is our standing?” She asks.

“We have a hundred crossbowmen, and 300 men-at-arms,” Daemon shares confidently. “Dragonstone is relatively easy to defend, but as an instrument of conquest. Our army leaves a lot to be desired. I sent word to my loyal men in the City Watch. I’ll have some support there, but I cannot speak for numbers.”

He speaks with so much ease, it honestly makes you feel some sort of confidence even if your numbers aren’t impressive.

He’d never hear that from you though. Tsk.

“We already have declarations from Celtigar and Staunton,” the Maester cuts in. “Massey, Darklyn, Bar Emmon.”

Not much.

“My lady mother was an Arryn,” your mother interjects as you watch Jacaerys place markers on your curtain allies. “The Vale will not turn cloak against their own kin.”

“Riverrun was always a close friend to your fathers, Your Grace,” the Maester points out. “With Prince Daemon’s acquiescence, I already sent ravens to Lord Grover.”

Oh by Daemon’s acquiescence? Who gave him permission to do such matters? Your mother when she was in labor?

“Lord Grover is fickle and easily swayed,” your mother argues. “He’ll need to be convinced of the strength of our position, and that we will support him should it come to war.”

You lift your gaze off the table and drag your eyes to Daemon, knowing her comment was directed at him.

“I’m going to treat with him myself,” Daemon volunteers himself and keeps his gaze on your mother. When you glance back at her she holds his gaze as if challenging him and arguing over what he did while she was abed.

“What of Storm’s End and Winterfell?” Lord Darklyn asks, making you snap your attention to him at the mere reminder of Cregan.

Now Cregan is someone who would never betray his oath, he’s a Stark, and he’s simply Cregan; he’s loyal and you can swear by that.

And well he would also never go against you regardless of how things are between him and you currently.

“There has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath,” Lord Bartimos defends Lord Stark. “And with House Stark, the North follows.”

You smirk faintly at the table and mindlessly watch the part of the map where Winterfell is marked.

“Lord Borros Baratheon will need to be reminded of his father's promises,” your mother inputs, causing a knight to put a marker over Winterfell, while Jacaerys puts one down too.

“What news from Driftmark?” Your mother asks your grandmother, turning everyone’s attention to her.

“Lord Corlys sails for Dragonstone,” your grandmother simply says.

“To declare for his Queen,” Daemon assumes, boldly at that.

“The Velaryon fleet is my husband's yoke,” your grandmother counters. “He decides where they sail.”

You scoff smugly and pass a glare to Daemon before looking back at the table.

“We shall pray for both you and your husband's support,” your mother says. “Just as we prayed nightly for the Sea Snake’s return to good health. There is no port on the Narrow Sea that would dare to make an enemy of the Velaryon fleet.”

She then turns and drifts the subject away to a different point. “And our enemies?”

“We have no friends among the Lannisters,” Daemon says. “Tyland has served the Hand too long to turn against him. And Otto Hightower needs the Lannister fleet.”

“Without the Lannisters, we are not like to find any allies west of the Golden Tooth.”

“No,” Daemon quickly agrees before ducking his head and continuing. “The Riverlands are essential, Your Grace.”

“Pray forgive my bluntness, Your Grace,” a Lord cuts in, “but talk of men is moot. Your cause owns a power that has not been seen in this world since the days of Old Valyria. Dragons.”

You pick up your gaze and remind the lord of your similarities with the Greens. “The Greens have dragons as well. Older dragons.”

“They have three adults,” Daemon keeps cutting in. “By my count. We have Syrax, Caraxes, and Meleys. Your daughter has Astraea, and your sons have Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes.”

Tyraxes? He’s a baby and too small, as well as Joffrey. He can’t possibly want little Joffrey fighting against three old and experienced dragons.

“Baela has Moondancer.”

“Daemon,” your mother argues. “None of our dragons have been to war.”

Without addressing that comment Daemon keeps going about more dragons. “There are also unclaimed dragons. Seasmoke still resides on Driftmark. Vermithor and Silverwing dwell on the Dragonmount, still riderless. Then there are the three wild dragons, all of whom nest here.”

“And who is to ride them?” Your mother asks what you’re thinking.

“Dragonstone has 14 to their 4. I also have a score of eggs incubating in the Dragonmount.”

And what good will that do? Does he want his toddler sons and your infant son to control hatchlings? Tsk, please.

“Now,” Daemon continues as he grabs a marker. “We need a place to gather. A toehold large enough to house a sizable host.”

He places the marker down and without as much as counseling the Queen he shares his plan. “Here, at Harrenhal. We cut off the west, surround King’s Landing with the dragons and we can have every Green head mounted on spikes before the fucking moon turns.”

You swallow thickly and even if it’s absurd you still worry about Aemond.

“Your Grace,” Ser Eryyk interjects as he strides over. “A ship has been sighted offshore, a lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon.”

The Greens.

“Alert the watchtowers,” once again Daemon gives commands as if he’s King or hand of the Queen. He’s nothing but the simple Prince Consort—“sight the skies.” He takes his sword and storms out, leaving your mother behind.

“Mother,” you say and turn to face her.

“I’ll have Aerion brought in,” she tells you right away while she turns to face you. “I doubt there will be any sort of force, but we need to be assured and I will feel safe if you and Aerion stayed with Jacaerys and the guards.”

You sigh deeply and don’t feel unease until she leaves. Of course, only minutes later Vanessa is brought in with Aerion, but you only grow more worried. You do feel safe with Jacaerys, and you can protect yourself too…unless it’s against Aemond, but it’s doubtful he’ll make an appearance today.

You wait and watch the skies for Vhagar, from a nearby balcony, but as expected he doesn’t show. Your mother eventually returns and brings with her a list of commands given by Lord Otto, and amongst those demands is the immediate release of Aerion and you, as if you were captive here with your mother.

Ultimately though it is up to you, your mother gives you the choice to return to King’s Landing. But being loud and intrusive as he is, Daemon refuses to give you a choice, he finds no need for you to make a choice, or a “stupid choice.”. You’re needed here, he says.

But maybe he just wants to use you because he knows how important Aerion is to Aemond.

Your mother sees right through her husband but says nothing in that regard, at least not in public.

You could run away, you don’t want to be used by Daemon, and he wouldn’t be able to stop you. You can’t imagine it’s that hard to sneak out of Dragonstone. It’s true you don’t know the layout of this castle-like you know the Red Keep, but it can’t be hard.

But you don’t run away even if you’re tempted to go to Aemond. Not to join his side, but to talk to him about all this madness, to well…ease some sense into him.

But you don’t go. Eventually, morning rolls around and you sneak off for a short flight, but you still don’t leave, even if the sky is open and Astraea will do as you please.

“Again!” Jacaerys’ annoying and scolding hits your ears. “This is the third time Mother has sent me to come fetch you.”

You roll your eyes and spin on your heels to skip over and hook your arm around his to lead him to the castle. “Relax, brother, I was just walking and catching some air.”

“In the skies,” he spats. “You were flying on Astraea all morning. Mother told you to keep out of the skies. Have you even gone to see Lord Corlys? He’s here you know.”

You nod. “I know, but he was asleep. I was waiting until he woke up to visit him.”

“Well,” Jacaerys scoffs. “Now you have to wait until after the meeting. Mother is expecting you.”

You sigh. “I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

“You said you wanted to be a part of this,” Jacaerys continues to use that stern voice on you. “Well be a part of it.”

When you enter that hall though you’re consumed by the chaos you just wanted a small escape from. Everyone is talking over one another, pacing around the table, and shouting ideas. It doesn’t come to a stop until Ser Erryk cuts them all off with a booming announcement. “The Lord of the Tides, Lord Corlys Velaryon…”

You lift your gaze and see your grandfather on top of the stairs with a cane and a bandage around his neck. It’s an odd sight seeing such a great man wounded, but it’s the reality of war. He’s lucky he even lived.

“…and his wife, the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.”

You clasp your hands in front of you and begin to fiddle with the ring around your finger as you watch her, your grandfather, and your cousins trailing behind them, walk down the stairs so formally.

“My lords,” your grandfather greets the men around the table once he’s down the stairs.

“Lord Corlys,” your mother greets the Lord. “It brings much relief to see you hale and healthy again.”

“I’m very sorry about your father, Princess,” he says, “he was a good man.” He then turns and faces the painted table to look around at all the faces gathered. “Where is Daemon?” He asks.

“There were other concerns which demanded the Prince’s attention,” your mother responds.

Your grandfather simply hums and passes your mother without as much as bowing, or addressing her as her proper title; Queen. He just walks past her as if she’s another one of the men.

“Your declared allies?” He points out to the few golden markers.

Your mother nods and approaches the table once more. “Yes.”

“Too few to win a war for the throne.”

Your mother spares him a quick glance before countering. “Well, we would also hope to have the support of houses Arryn, Baratheon, and Stark.”

“Hope…” your grandfather cuts in. “Is the fool's ally.”

You stop fiddling with the ring and lock eyes with your mother before she returns her gaze to Lord Corlys and hardens it. “Both Arryn and Baratheon share blood with my house. But all of them swore oaths to me.”

“As did House Hightower,” your grandfather points out. “If I remember.”

“As did you, Lord Corlys,” your mother redirects with some spite that makes you proud.

Said man stays quiet for a moment, he looks back at you, your brothers standing by you, and your cousins standing by their betrothed for a brief second before focusing back on your mother.

“Your father's realm…” your grandfather interjects loudly. “Was one of justice and honor. Our houses are bound by common blood and common cause. This Hightower treason cannot stand,” he makes clear as he proceeds to fix his stance. “You have the full support of our fleet and house. Your Grace.”

Finally.

You can’t help but share a small, faint smile at the sound of his words. Knowing the man he is, and how it’s rumored his son died, you didn’t think he’d bend the knee to your mother, but he did. Thank the gods.

“You honor me Lord Corlys,” your mother thanks him with a much softer look. “Princess Rhaenys,” she says behind her. “But,” she once again addresses the crowd. “As I said to my bannermen. I made a promise to my father to hold the realm strong and united. If war is first, stroke is to fall, it will not be by my hand.”

“You do not mean to act?” Your grandfather questions.

“Taking caution,” your mother clarifies. “Does not mean standing fast. I wish to know who my allies are before I send them to war.”

Your proud smile for your mother widens at the sound of her determination.

“The consequence of my…near demise in the Stepstones…is that we now control them,” your grandfather announces. “I took care to fully garrison the territory this time. A total blockade of the shipping lanes will be in place in days, if not already. The tiarchy has been routed. The Narrow Sea is ours. If we…further seal the Gullet.” Your grandfather points to the areas on the map. “We can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to King’s Landing.”

“I shall take Meleys and patrol the Gullet myself.” Your grandmother volunteers herself, seeming to surprise your mother that she did not need to command her, that it was out of her free will.

“When we drain the Narrow Sea,” Lord Bartimos interjects. “We can surround King’s Landing. Lay siege to the Red Keep and force the Greens surrender.”

It’s easier said than done, isn’t it? Aemond has the biggest dragon who has seen and been a part of war. Aegon, you must admit, has a good bond with Sunfyre, and Daeron…well you don’t know him well, but his dragon can be as impressive. You’ll have to deal with them first.

“If we are to have enough swords to surround King’s Landing,” your mother inputs. “We must secure the support of Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Storm’s End.”

“I’ll prepare the ravens, Your Grace,” the maester assures her, albeit you aren’t convinced by that or sitting at home, and you know your brothers feel the same.

“No,” you break your silence, “we should bare those messages. In my five years at Winterfell, I grew to befriend Lord Stark, and become familiar with Winterfell, I’m sure I can speak to him and gain his support.”

“Besides,” Jacaerys stands tall and finishes your sentence. “Dragons can fly faster than ravens and they’re more convincing. Send us.”

Sure you said that you needed to leave Cregan alone, but this is war and he is a loyal man so if it’s sides he needs to choose, he might sway easier to yours if you speak to him.

“The Princess and the Prince are right,” your grandfather supports your suggestion, surprisingly enough. “Your Grace.”

Your mother holds your gaze and her eyes soften. She lingers in silence as she watches you and your brothers before she gives her answer. “Very well. Prince Jacaerys and the Princess will fly North...”

You and your brother share a brief proud look before focusing back.

You meant to go to Cregan by yourself, but Jacaerys might help calm your temptations.

“First to the Eyrie to see my mother's cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn,” your mother adds. “And then to Winterfell to treat Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm’s End and treat Lord Borros Baratheon. We must remind these Lords of the oaths they swore. And,” your mother exhales. “The cost of breaking them.”

You smirk proudly and nod in agreement.

——

*LATER*

“We’ll just go on a small trip,” you tell baby Aerion. “Your uncle Jacaerys, you, and me.”

Aerion breathes out loudly and his blue eyes seem to search the room with a sad frown. He’s been…upset it seems today, he’s been crying more than usual, and squirming around in your arms. It frightened you at first but it then hit you, he misses Aemond. This is the longest he’s gone without being with him, and Aerion loves his father. He must be so confused as to why he hasn’t seen him, felt his warmth, or smelled his scent.

But as much as you want to cure your son's longing, he needs to wait a bit longer.

“We’ll see your father soon,” you assure Aerion. “I swear. After we return from Winterfell.”

Aerion simply blinks, making you smile at him. A silence once again fills the chambers, but it then is broken by the sound of your name coming from your mother at the entrance.

You turn around and face her with a smile. “Mother,” you greet. “I’m sorry I just came to pick up Aerion.”

Your mother blinks in confusion. “Pick up? Why ever so?”

You swallow thickly and sigh. “If the Greens find out I left him here all alone, I’m sure someone will come and take him. I can’t risk that.”

Your mother nods and then breaks away from the entrance to reach you and grab your hand. “My sweet, leave Aerion here, we will protect him. You won’t take long but with the way things are it’s too dangerous for him to accompany you.” She presses her reassurance as she cups your cheek and caresses it gently. “We swear it.”

You let out a deep breath and nod slowly before you look down at Aerion with sadness. “I’ll return to you, my boy. Soon, I promise.” You lean down and press a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Aerion reaches out to grab your face, so you let him touch your cheeks.

You giggle and then can’t help but snuggle him against you. “Oh, I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

Before you decide not to leave or sob you place him back in his cradle and walk out with a heavy heart.

For however long you’ll be gone is the longest you’ll be without Aerion since he was born. When he was first born even being apart from him for just a couple of minutes pained you, and now? You’ll be gone for days, you’ll probably die.

Yet the promise of seeing Cregan does excite you even if it shouldn’t. Even after the promise you made yourself.

How will he react when he sees you, you wonder? It hasn’t been long since you stopped writing to him, he probably hasn’t grown concerned as to why he hasn’t gotten a response from you, but will he know of your attempts?

You did write back with short sentences last time with attempts to stop yourself from talking to him, so will he know? Will he be upset?

Hopefully not.

Alas, before you could attempt leaving Dragonstone to be one mile closer to Cregan, your mother asks to speak to you and your brothers first before your departure.

“It’s been said that as Targaryens, we are closer to gods than to men,” your mother says. “The Iron Throne puts us a touch closer, perhaps. But, if we are to serve the Seven Kingdoms…we must answer to their gods. If you take this errand, you go as messengers…not as warriors.” She shakes her head. “You must take no part in any fighting. Swear it to me now, under the eyes of the Seven.”

Ser Eryyk brings forth the holy book of the Seven, and Lucerys has no hesitation to respect your mother's wishes. “I swear it,” he assures her.

Jacaerys and you hesitate, however. Only you don’t hesitate because of any objections to her demands, it’s just why those gods?

You don’t have faith in the New Gods, but if it’s what she wants. “I swear,” you assure your mother after Lucerys, leaving only Jacaerys left. He hesitates for a moment longer, but he then leans in and presses his hand on the book.

“I swear it.”

The book is then pulled away, letting your mother continue with the matter at hand. “Cregan Stark is,” she says, making your breath falter. “Closer to your age than to mine. I would hope that as men you can find some common interests. And well, as friends,” she shifts her attention to you. “You’d find no trouble.” She finishes and hands Jacaerys the messages.

“Yes, your Grace,” you assure her confidently.

Her attention then slowly drifts to Lucerys and her gaze softens at the obviously worried look on your little brother's face.

“Storm’s End is a short flight from here,” she assures him softly. “You have Baratheon blood from your grandmother Rhaenys. And…Lord Borros is an eternally proud man. He’ll be honored to host a Prince of the Realm and his dragon.” She hands Lucerys the scroll and holds onto his hand a bit longer. “I expect you will receive a very warm welcome.”

Lucerys nods. “Yes, mother—y-your Grace.”

You share a teasing smile with Jacaerys at the sound of your brother's stammer. When he does return to your side though you caress his shoulder and assure his concerns.

“Go to it then,” your mother orders softly.

You offer her one last smile before you head to where your dragons await for all of you. However, before you can climb on Astraea’s back, you also assure Lucerys.

“Be careful, okay? We’ll see you after we return, hm?”

Lucerys glances at Jacaerys and then at you and nods softly.

You shoot him a grin and pat his shoulder.

“You be careful too,” he redirects.

You scoff softly and walk back to Astraea. “Always, baby brother,” you counter sweetly with one last glance at him.

Now when you turn to face your dragon you can’t help but fill with excitement to see Cregan again. You shouldn’t, but you can’t help it.

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