#nothing but the best for the princess of the citadel

[catartac]

The Wizard Sky’s Private Study

Edited to include the night version

[taecherries]

the princess bride | jungkook ( 2 )

synopsis. soon to be betrothed to a neighbourhood kingdom, you escape into the woods toward your freedom. there you find your calling in the hold of a dark and troublesome stranger instead.

pairing. jungkook | you + yoongi | you

genre. royal au, angst, smut, fluff

word count. 7.1k

rating. M

warnings. ❗️steamy scene, violence, threats, mention of rape❗️

a/n. chapters will be coming out whenever I'm able to post and they may vary in word count greatly ♡

chapters. 1 × 2 × 3

Freedom didn’t last long.

You managed to hold your own through the night, running and fighting against your dress that stubbornly would entangle in the branches of the tall bushes, draining you throughout. You barely caught on any sleep, trying your best to keep walking and pushing yourself toward your new-found goal—the borders of Keirn’s citadel.

But once the first rays of light greeted you, and the shadows of the night were long gone, even the woods couldn’t protect you from your father’s cunning.

The tall walls surrounding the kingdom seemed tranquil on this side of the border; completely unoccupied saved by the chirping birds that flew by. You had been counting on it since you knew this to be one of Keirn’s blind spots.

You approached the wall carefully, your head paranoidly snapping at any sound. It loomed above you, imposing and seemingly insurmountable. Inhaling deeply you reach for the dagger Yoongi had given you, its weight a comforting reminder of his promise. Holding it tightly, you find a small crevice in the wall, just wide enough for your fingers.

With a deep breath, you begin to climb. The rough stone bites into your hands and feet, but you press on, using the dagger to wedge into cracks for leverage. Each movement is deliberate, your muscles burning with effort. The climb feels endless, but the thought of Yoongi and the freedom that awaits you on the other side keeps you going. You think instead this is just the customary climb toward the tall window of the castle you grew up running from in the middle of the night.

Finally, you reach the top, pausing for a moment to catch your breath and scan the horizon. No movement. The kingdom lays quiet beneath you. You allow yourself to close your eyes even if for an instant, breathing the scent of the pine trees your home is known for, and the faint one of lilies. Arden’s borders are just there, waiting for you.

You open your fingers wide on a lazy morning stretch, and a smile, even if bittersweet, tugs at the corners of your mouth. You did it.

Carefully, you begin your descent on the other side, your grip firm on the dagger.

As your feet touch the ground, you swiftly place the dagger back in the strap around your thigh, relief flooding through you. Even with no belongings besides the dagger, or plans, that is what you feel, relief. You could make a life for yourself in the borders of Arden, you were sure of that.

But the respite is short-lived. Before you can take another step, a group of soldiers emerges from the shadows, their armor glinting menacingly in the early morning light. Leading them is the face of your eldest brother, Seokjin.

You gulp down the tears that threaten to blur your vision. In the space of one single night both of your brothers, the brothers you loved so dearly and thought to have a deep bond with, pierced a sword through your heart.

There is really nothing nor no one that beats the loyalty to your father, the fearsome king of Keirn.

“Y/n,” he calls out, his voice carrying a mix of authority and if you didn’t know better, sorrow. “Did you really think you could neglect your duties?”

Heart pounding, you take a step back, only to feel the cold steel of a blade pressed against your back. One of the soldiers had moved in behind you with lightning speed.

“Seokjin, please,” you plead, your voice trembling. “I can’t go back. I won’t.”

Your brother’s expression softens for a moment, a flicker of something—perhaps regret—crossing his face. But it is gone as quickly as it came. “The King has ordered your return. You know I can’t disobey him.”

You clench your fists, the dagger in its sheath a cruel reminder of your fleeting freedom. Your fingers tap gently the fabric of your dress as you ponder retrieving it and trying to fence your way through. But who are you kidding? Even if great with a blade, and sure you could turn tables with the odds you’re being dealt with, you could never hurt Seokjin.

You love him too greatly to strip the life out of him. And that’s what this situation would come to, as you know his soul well enough to ignore how he would only disobey your father’s orders if death were to fall upon him. “And what about what I want? He’s selling me like cattle!”

Seokjin sighs, stepping closer. “Sometimes, our duty is more important than what we want. Come quietly, Y/n. Don’t make this harder than it has to be…Please.”

The soldiers close in, their grip on your arms unyielding. As they lead you away, your mind races, searching for a way out. You glance back at the wall, the symbol of your almost-achieved freedom, and silently vow that this will not be the end. Yoongi’s promise echoes in your mind, giving you a glimmer of hope amidst the despair.

“I’ll find you,” you whisper to yourself, the resolve in your voice strengthening with each step you take back toward the castle. “No matter what.”

The journey back to the castle was a blur of rough handling and harsh words. Seokjin stayed by your side, his presence both a comfort and a constant reminder of your impending fate. The soldiers led you through the familiar corridors, and though your surroundings felt like home, each step deepened your sense of captivity.

Once inside the walls of your childhood home, you were taken to your chambers. The air was thick with the scent of lavender and rose, but it did nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. Servants you barely recognized bustled about, drawing a bath and laying out garments on your bed. The dress chosen for you, which you could pinpoint to be your father’s doing, was beautiful, but it felt like a cage, its silk and lace suffocating you.

You bathed quickly, the warm water doing little to wash away your anxiety. Every moment you spent in the tub, your mind raced with plans and desperate schemes to escape. But when you emerged, the sight of guards posted outside your door and under the tall window sill crushed any fleeting hope. It made you question if all these years going on silent escapades was indeed merit of your skills or just a jest your father allowed.

It made you feel like a farce.

The dress fit perfectly, of course, but it wasn’t yours. Although its silk was made of the softest blue, a color you were peaceful with, you had never worn it. Ever since you were little, you always dallied through bold and sometimes dark colors that enhanced your features. You weren’t made for the delicatessen this soft blue suggested, or better, you weren’t made for the role this color, the color of Ilya, demanded of you.

And so its fabric clung to your body, a constant reminder that even your own appearance was no longer under your control.

Servants that were never appointed to you before tightened the corset, fastened the clasps, and stepped back to admire their work. All the while being silent like stones. You felt like a doll, dressed up for display and to be ignored entirely.

Sat in the comber as the youngest of the maids fight your stubborn hair, you notice through the mirror more guards approach the hallways, blocking every possible exit. Your father had spared no effort in ensuring you had no means of escape.

Your thoughts go to Yoongi and his well-being. You don’t know what happened to him after fleeting his hut, nor do you find yourself brave enough to ask for information seeing that even your greatest confider has betrayed you so easily. So you hold onto the hope of Yoongi having managed to escape if his face not being amidst the guards is of any indication.

You are snapped out of your thoughts as you are dragged through the halls of the palace by a stern-faced soldier instead. He is also the one informing you that you will be having your lunch inside the carriage that will take you to your doom instead of the dining hall, as you protest in his arms.

The words sting, and you can’t suppress a shudder. Not that you would want to see his face at the moment, but your father didn’t even allow you to say goodbye to anyone else who mattered to you. Not to Binna, the cook who had raised you like a mother since you were an infant. Her warm smile and gentle presence had been a constant comfort… How could you imagine life without her and the sticky buns she made every time you were sad?

The thought of leaving without a farewell is not only a bitter pill to swallow but unfathomable.

As you are dragged your feet start caving a ragged track in the rough path of the entrance, you frantically scan the fleet that will escort you to Ilya. You see Seokjin leading it, sitting proudly atop his white stallion. What you don’t see is your own horse, Solas.

“Where’s he, Seokjin?!” you shout exasperated, the hands of the guards tightening around your arms as you mention diverge the path toward your brother. “Where’s Solas?” your throat gets hoarse from the sudden strain.

Seokjin doesn’t spare you a glance. And as he tries so hard to look forward instead of you, the message is clear and is delivered to you like a punch in the gut.

Solas won’t come.

They are forcing you to abandon everything, even the treasured things that could travel with you.

This is a lesson from your father. A way to say from now on you either abide by the rules or you won’t be allowed to have anything at all.

The thought of Solas’ gentle eyes and the way he nuzzled you for treats plague your mind, an invisible hand squeezing at your heart so hard you think you might stop functioning. And in a way, you do.

“Please,” you grab one of the maiden’s hands as you’re about to be pushed into the carriage. “Tell my brother- Tell Taehyung to take care of my horse. Please!”

Taehyung.

It’s only then that you realize you aren’t seeing your younger brother either. You choke on your words, your heart almost coming to a stop.

The pain of not being able to see his face or feel his embrace one last time is almost unbearable. Who knows when or if you will ever get the chance to do so again?

Taehyung had been more than a brother, in ways that Seokjin hadn’t been so; he had been your confidant, your rock, but more than that, the two of you shared a bond that words couldn’t fully capture. From a very young age, you had learned to communicate with just a glance, understanding each other’s thoughts and feelings without a single word. His absence now was a gaping wound in your heart, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever experience that kind of connection again.

You steal one last glance at the castle, hoping against hope that Taehyung might be there, watching from the shadows. But there is nothing, just the cold, impassive stone walls and the unwavering gaze of the guards.

You settle into the plush seat of the carriage deflating, the door closing with a finality that echoed in your soul. The carriage lurches forward, and you feel a heavy weight settle in your chest. Would Taehyung not even attend the wedding? Would you ever find someone who understands you as he did, who could communicate with a mere glance like best friends do?

As the castle fades into the distance, your eyes close, your head rocking with the shake of the carriage. Everyone you love, the life you were building for yourself, and everything that you are is being left behind.

This journey may as well try to break you… But it won’t.

That is your promise to yourself.

You won’t marry the King of Ilya.

You won’t ever not try to escape this fate.

Even if you have to die trying.

Your breath quickens as you find yourself enveloped in Yoongi’s arms. The both of you lie in a secluded glade, the moonlight filtering through the trees, casting a silvery glow over everything.

His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his hands roam over your body. His lips trailing hot, and tortuous slow kisses along your neck.

“Yoongi,” you call for him like a beacon, your voice trembling with desire. His name is like a prayer on your lips, a plea for more.

He immediately responds with a low, hungry growl, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that leaves you momentarily dizzy. Your bodies press together, and you can’t help but claw at his back.

You feel feverish as his hand slides down a sinful path between your breasts, fingers deftly unfastening the laces of your nightgown. You gasp against his mouth as the cool night air brushes against your bare skin, but his warmth quickly replaces it.

His touch is everywhere—tender, demanding, setting you aflame.

You arch into him as he squeezes your inner thigh, your own hands tugging at his hair, exploring the feel of his muscles taut under your touch.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe, your eyes half-closing in ecstasy. Yoongi’s lips curve into a Cheshire cat smile as he obliges, his mouth tracing a path down your collarbone, his hands lifting you higher into his embrace.

You wrap your legs instinctively around his waist, feeling the heat and hardness of him through the thin barrier of your clothes. Pushing his hips down with your heel you almost unravel at the sound he makes.

Your head falls back, a moan escaping your own lips as he whispers your name, his voice thick with need. You are lost in the sensation, the world around you fading into nothingness as the both of you move together, driven by mad desire.

But then, something shifts.

The cool night air seems to grow colder, the moonlight dimming. Yoongi’s touch begins to fade, his presence becoming insubstantial.

Panic surges through you as you try to hold onto him, but he is slipping away, his form dissolving into mist.

“No,” you cried out exasperated, your hands grasping at nothingness. The glade around you begins to blur and dissolve, being replaced by the dim, familiar surroundings of the carriage now moving into the night. You are alone inside, sat at an erroneous angle, your body aching with unfulfilled longing.

It was just a dream.

The realization hits you like a splash of cold water, leaving you breathless and disoriented. You adjust yourself as you hear the clip-clop of the horses outside, staring up at the ceiling, your heart pounds in your chest. The vividness of the dream lingers, the sensation of Yoongi’s touch still ghosting over your skin.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as the ache of loss settles in. You quickly wipe away the tears, you haven’t allowed anyone the satisfaction of seeing you crumble ever since you left Keirn.

It’s been two days now on the road. Every time you closed your eyes you had seen Yoongi’s eyes staring back at you, felt him, his touch, his kisses.

Every time he is ripped away from you by the cruel reality you swear to yourself this is just a reminder of what you are fighting for.

“No matter what it takes,” you mumble.

Not a second passes before you hear Seokjin’s voice coming from outside, “Y/n? Do you need something?”

During the day and the occasional breaks you take to eat and rest, he has been keeping his distance. Either because that’s the order he received from your father or because he feels guilty about it all, you don’t know. But at night, he always falls back to help guard your carriage, and every time you so much make a movement inside the damned thing he always checks on you.

You sigh, tired of the monumental turn your life made, and consequently your relationship with your elder brother. “No, I’m quite satisfied in my confinement, thank you.”

He says nothing else, and just like the previous night, you find solace instead in the soft melodies the hooves of the horses make against the gravel.

Your heart sank as soon as morning came and you saw yourself passing through the gates of Ilya’s castle. Looking through the small window of the carriage, Ilya’s kingdom revealed a breathtaking view that under different circumstances you would have been captivated by.

The castle’s towering spires seemed to reach toward the sky, adorned with intricate carvings that told tales of a rich and ancient history. Lush gardens surround the structure, filled with soft-colored flowers and meticulously pruned hedges that showcase the kingdom’s prosperity and attention to detail.

Everything seemed to fall into order, even the crystal-clear streams that flowed through the gardens, their gentle babble almost soothing. Almost.

You step out of the carriage once a sea of castle workers line up to greet you. You can’t help but notice every and each of them is impeccably dressed, not a thread out of place or a crooked button in sight. Their eyes to the floor, hands clasped behind their backs, all ready to serve.

Your stomach flips with the sight. Your memories float astray before your eyes. Binna with her apron full of flour, Jina, and Peggy all smiles with shaggy flower crowns on their heads.

Everything feels wrong.

You don’t even notice as Seokjin takes your hand and helps you out of the carriage, entwining your arm around his as he walks you to the front doors.

“Y/n,” he says as his eyes keep focusing forward, his voice tight with urgency. “This will be as far as I’m allowed to go. I’m expected at the front lines…I won’t be able to make it to the wedding.”

Your eyes widen with the news, heart pounding in your chest. “What do you mean front lines? We didn’t declare war on Arden yet and—” you pause as the puzzle pieces all fall in place. Suddenly the rush of your wedding doesn’t feel so strange.

You remember Yoongi commenting on how they weren’t gaining territory over Arden at all, on the contrary, they were rioting and pushing the soldiers back. With this marriage, your father gained the men needed to make a difference on the front lines. They would be attacking soon before the surprise effect lost its spark.

“Oh,” is all you manage to say.

Seokjin comes to a stop and you follow suit. He turns to face you now and you see how his throat bobs. “I’ll do my best out there, so you do your best out here.” he chants something you used to say as kids and you force your jaw shut trying to fight the tears.

He’s going to the front lines.

Suddenly you’re back at being five, finding his already big for his age shoulders to be the only thing you needed to fight your fear of storms. “What if- What if something happens-”

Seokjin doesn’t pull you into a tight embrace like he used to, shielding you from the world. Instead, he flicks your nose, out of custom. Something he only does when you accomplish something that makes him proud. The smile on his face is measured and yet so full of meaning.

His eyes say it all.

“You’ve always been braver than you think. Don’t stop now,” he adds. “We’ll see each other again.”

You don’t have time to react as he turns away, taking long strides toward his horse and away from you.

He is going to the front lines. Your brother is going to war.

Your head starts spiraling again. It’s been an avalanche of farewells, and suddenly, against better judgment, you don’t think you can hold yourself together.

With tears welling up in your eyes, you watch him mount his horse and ride away, followed by his fleet. The sound of hooves echo through the courtyard as a maiden holds you by the arm keeping you from hitting the ground.

Seokjin is headed into the danger of war while you are left to face a different kind of battle.

Each and every attempt of yours to glean information about the King of Ilya, as you hadn’t met him yet, was met with tight-lipped silence. No maiden dared spill anything, not even a description of said man.

Their refusal to answer your questions only heightened your apprehension.

You tried to search your mind after your father’s comments about the other kingdoms and their rulers but came out short-handed. The only thing you managed to remember him saying about Ilya was that its last king had died in an unfortunate altercation and his son took over.

Although sure his son, the new King, was about your age, your heart was already entitled to another.

You did not want this marriage, the alliance, and the burden it came with. Not only because you didn’t even know the King, but mainly because he didn’t know you.

If he did, he would spare the trouble, or at the very least understand you are not the type of woman to sit and be ordered around, and therefore no marriage would happen in the first place.

For the entirety of the day, you were shown around the accommodations. You were fed and bathed, and as soon as the latter activity was over, you were locked inside your pompous excuse of a room in nothing but a nightgown and Yoongi’s silver dagger that you managed to hide like a swindler.

The balcony served you with no comfort. As soon as you stepped foot on it you realized it was too high of a fall for you to even attempt climbing off it. And even if you were desperate enough, which you are, there was no wall close enough, no crevice, to hold on to on your way down.

Or a bed sheet, and even a curtain wide enough to help. You had checked.

The wedding was to be held at night, that much you were told.

And was only when the sky started to get painted a darker blue that the maidens walked into your room once more.

You stood before a large mirror, on top of a small platform, as the girls dressed you in layers of delicate fabrics. You were in shades of yellow and hues of gold from head to toe. Even the jewels were composed of yellow sapphires.

You liked what you saw in the reflection. This color made you feel at home, but as you caught your eyes you saw that they were nothing if not urgent and alert. You didn’t have time to admire the somewhat modern cut of the dress and how it hugged you in every right way, no. This was the only time you had to think about finding a way to escape. To at least postpone the wedding to get to know the castle better, its exits, its people.

One of the maidens tugs at one strand of your hair, trying to secure the last hairpiece. Your eyes fleet to her figure.

The girl didn’t appear much younger than you. Perhaps she was Taehyung’s age, exactly seven months your junior, who knows. She had been quiet just like the others, but her eyes always lingered a bit on yours before aiming for the floor. She didn’t ignore you intently like everyone else.

Her fingers tremble slightly as she works, and suddenly you notice the sapphire hairpiece slipping from her grasp and clattering to the floor.

“Forgive me, Princess,” she says, bending down to retrieve the piece. As she does so you notice that she sends an authoritative glance toward the others, and as they exchange glances, they discreetly exit the room.

The inked-haired girl rises to her feet, the sapphire piece in hand, and yours travel instinctively toward your thigh where the dagger is sheathed safely. She accompanies the movement with determined eyes.

“Your Highness, there won’t be a need for that,” she starts and a friendly smile eases her complexions. “I apologize for the startle, but I needed a moment alone with you.”

You eye her with suspicion still, “Go on��”

She takes a deep breath. “We’re not friends or better acquaintances- You don’t even know my name. Yet I can’t help but sympathize with what I see in your eyes.”

You cock your head at that comment. You never bothered with people’s assumptions regarding you, but it didn’t mean you liked it nevertheless. “And that would be…?”

The girl seems unfazed by the gesture, and if she fears the disparity in status, she doesn’t show. Instead, she continues. “I know what it means to love someone and be forced apart. Or at the very least, know the feeling of being imposed with a life you don’t want to yourself. Am I close?”

At the lack of a response on your end, she takes one step closer to you. “I want to help you, your Highness. I can assist you in escaping.”

You swear your heart skips a beat and for a moment you think you are hearing wrong. “Why would you risk such a thing?”

What if this is just a ploy of yet another cunning King?, you think to yourself. Why would a maiden risk her neck to save mine? She doesn’t even know me.

“Because I have someone I love, too,” she confesses, and something in the way she says it gives you a feeling that she for a fact is speaking the truth. “I can’t stand by and watch someone else be denied their happiness. If there’s a chance to reunite you with the one you love, or what you want, I will do everything in my power to help you.”

You always thought of yourself as having a high judgment of character. Never once have you failed to do so, but things lately have turned into a mess.

“I don’t have the means to pay you and if you get caught-”

“We don’t have much time,” the girl interrupts your poor excuses, her voice urgent. “Tonight after the final preparations, I will come for you. Be ready.”

You nod at the warning, dismissing second thoughts as a flicker of hope ignits within you.

The maiden carefully secures the sapphire hairpiece in place, and you stand tall once more facing the mirror.

The girl comes to stand by your side and as your eyes lock in the reflection of the both of you she says in a whisper, “You can call me Hana, your Highness.”

You don’t think you had ever been so nervous in your entire life. Not even when you lied through your teeth that time Taehyung vanished for two days and you covered for him with your ruthless father.

It isn’t an easy feature to put your life in the hands of someone else, especially not blindly.

Hana had left you with the other maidens, claiming she would come for you, but nothing else was said. You didn’t exactly know what would be the plan, you just knew she would come for you.

But as you are escorted to the chapel to bind your life to the King of Ilya in front of his order and his guests, you start doubting if Hana is ever going to show.

You are one step away from the staircase that will lead you to the entrance where the spectacle awaits when said girl carves a path between the guards and maidens to reach you.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, your Highness,” she huffs and two guards come to drag her away.

In sudden fear, you shout at them, “Leave her!” and they do as you command.

Hana straightens her simplistic dress before coming closer to stand in front of your figure. “Will these do, your Highness?” she opens her hands in front of you, head down in a theatrical display for the others, as she shows you the most scintillant sapphire earrings. They are composed of two pieces, one polished yellow stone at the top and another one hanging, only secure by a bird’s claw that tightly embraces it.

It’s beautiful.

Your hand is like a ghost as it touches your ears, unaware they had been bare until now. “Yes, these will do.”

Hana presses down a smile at your astonishment for the piece, and if you were in Keirn, where you had power, you’d be pushing her in a playful jest.

But you are not in Keirn, and you recognize this is the moment she will somehow execute the plan. It has to be.

Your eyes are laser-focused on her as she comes even closer, trying to secure one earring on your ear. You can barely understand as she whispers, “Open your mouth slightly- Not like that. Gentler.”

You do as you’re told, and in a flash, when she swifts her hands to your left ear, something is inside your mouth.

Immediately you close it and your tongue goes out to inspect what appears to be a capsule.

“Once you’re to say your vows, crack the capsule and fall. I need you to appear faint,” she whispers again, stalling the insertion of the earring on your ear as the soldiers start to get agitated.

You search her eyes for more but she only says, “Trust me. Don’t open your eyes until I’m with you and I tell you so. Just play dead.”

And then she steps away, saying loudly, “All done, your Highness!” and you’re back moving toward your doom.

You feel the capsule hidden under your tongue as you start walking down the aisle of the cathedral.

Rows of guests turned to gaze upon you, their eyes filled with curiosity and judgment. The whispers and murmurs seemed to close in around you, but you kept your head high, determined to see through with the plan.

Just play dead, you think, easy enough.

Your dress, the exquisite creation of silk, seemed to shimmer in the soft candlelight, each step causing the delicate fabric that only cinched in your bust and waist to ripple like waves. The scent of fresh flowers filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of incense.

Your attention however floated elsewhere as you finally dared to look ahead, your eyes catching the ones of the man you are being sold to.

Standing at the altar, the King of Ilya awaits you dressed in all white, a vision of purity and grace. As you see his honey gold hair cascading around his equally gold crown, you understand the choice of color for your dress.

His features are delicate, almost ethereal, with a softness that belies the power he holds.

Coming closer, almost reaching him, you notice how his plump lips curve into a beautiful smile, one that takes you by surprise. Somehow you’d imagined it to be faker, or filled with ill intentions, but none of that is present.

You see yourself fleetingly wishing that you could have met him under different circumstances. If you were a friendly visitor to Ilya, or perhaps meeting him as a future ally, one that had ascended to the throne of Keirn instead. You would’ve wanted to know him better.

You wondered what kind of person he was beneath the crown, what dreams and fears he harbored.

But those thoughts are quickly overshadowed by the reality of your current situation. As you reach the altar, the King kindly extends a hand to you, his smile never faltering. You accept it, feeling the warmth of his touch, and look deeply into his eyes.

You don’t know if it’s nervousness about what you’re about to do, but you can’t read him.

“My bride,” he says gently, kissing your knuckles without ever breaking eye contact. If you had more time to ponder, you’d risk saying he was finding amusing the way you were analyzing him.

He guides you to stand face-to-face with him, and from between you, you hear the priest proclaim, “Without further ado, we are here today to be testimony of the sacred matrimony between Y/n, previous princess of Keirn, and our beloved King Jimin, ruler of Ilya.”

The whole room filled in with, “All hail King Jimin,” as if it were a prayer.

You take that as your cue to bite the capsule.

The bitter taste of whatever content was inside it makes you pull a face, and as you open your mouth a bit distraught by the liquid now swirling in your tongue, you see droplets of red falling.

King Jimin frowns, scanning your complexion. “My dear, are you feeling under the weather?”

You don’t waste any time before rolling your eyes back and falling heavily onto the ground.

It’s a hard task not to wince at the blow your head suffers once it meets the cold stone beneath you, but it had to look credible. You do your best to look lifeless as you hear Jimin shouting for assistance, kneeling beside you while holding your hand tightly.

Or when the crowd goes into a frenzy when Jimin does the same path you just minutes ago walked, as he bravely carries your limp body to a private room escorted by his royal cavalry.

You keep playing dead even after he gently places you on top of what appears to be a wooden table. “Get me a healer. Now!” he commands frantic.

There’s the clink of steel and then a new pair of footing making noise on the cold stones.

“Your Highness,” it’s Hana’s voice, you believe.

Jimin who was still holding your hand, seemingly guarding you like a lion, places your limb on top of your own belly, softly caressing your temple before walking away.

“Where’s the healer?!” he inquires, closer to losing his temper, if he already hadn’t done so.

“He’s on his way, your Highness,” you now know for certain to be Hana as she says meekly. This must be yet another facade of hers as you can gather by now she is nothing but meek. “I came as the priest ordered me to. Your Highnesses are not yet married to the eyes of the lord, you can’t be alone in a room.”

She waits patiently as you hear Jimin sigh and grunt, pacing in what you can imagine a furious state, contrasting greatly with the image you built of him earlier on the altar.

“I’ll be right outside,” He warns. “Don’t you even dare breathe near her. We don’t know as of yet what this could be, I don’t want…Nothing happening to her. Do you hear me?”

“Of course, your Highness. I’ll stand over here.”

You wait until you hear his footsteps growing further down the hall. And then the wooden door slamming.

You wait as Hana’s feet come closer.

And only when she whispers, “And… Wake!” on your ear do you rise like a ghost.

As you do so, still a bit overwhelmed to have pulled such a display, you’re met with Hana’s smile.

She guides you out of the table and gestures for you to keep quiet, indicating for you to follow her.

You do it readily, watching as she opens a secret doorway hidden behind a tapestry, leading into a dark tunnel.

Both inside it, Hana closes the door behind you, cutting your eyesight completely. In instinct your hands shoot before you, feeling under your fingers the musky stone walls.

“Listen to me closely,” Hana murmurs, and by the proximity of it, she’s standing right to your left. You try to look her way. “Down this tunnel, at the very end of it, you will find a horse strapped in a tree. I packed it with food and some things for your journey,” her speech is rushed, you can sense neither of you has much time.

“This is as far as I can take you,” she says finally.

“Thank you, Hana, truly,” You try to put every sense of gratitude in the small words you can offer. “If we ever cross paths again, I hope we can call each other friends. If not, I’ll carry you with me with the utmost gratitude. I need you to know it.”

You can hear her smiling in the dark, “Go before there’s nothing else to thank me for, Princess, but alas- If it’s not asking much, could you smash my head in the stone in a friendly way? It’s no hard feature, you just have to-”

You chuckle, “I’m well acquainted with that, don’t worry. Just show me where your head is.”

Hana swiftly takes your hand and guides it toward her skull. She then proceeds to get closer to the wall and you tag along to execute the move.

“To make you black out or…?”

“Christ, woman!” she hushes, “No. Just to give me some kind of excuse when the King barges in and finds me alone when I should be looking over the future Queen of Ilya.”

“Oh!” you exhale, wincing at what you’re about to do. It won’t be that hard but it will hurt anyways. “I do this with the utmost gratitude.” You feel the need to add.

“Just do it—!”

You smash her head before she can say anything else, and as you leave her trying to suppress a wave of screams and curses, you do your best to navigate in the dark to the end of the tunnel.

For her.

For Yoongi.

For you.

You found the horse Hana had left you with ease. The white stallion was hard to miss.

Your mind raced as quickly as your heart as you guided the animal toward the dense forest. The night had been pitch black, the canopy of the trees above you blocking out any light from the stars. Navigating your way out of Ilya’s kingdom and toward the borders of Arden was proving to be an arduous task, made all the more difficult by your bold attire.

Your yellow wedding dress, though beautiful, was a cumbersome hindrance in a survival mode meant not for a party. Its skirts tangled in the underbrush and caught on every low branch. It looked like a beacon.

Keeping the mount atop the white beast had been also a struggle, the dress snagging and pulling at you with every movement. But you kept holding on.

You missed Solas. He was not only swift but pitch black as the night itself. Riding him had always been like a thrill, the wind whipping through your hair as you galloped across open fields and dense woods. This poor animal beneath you, that you didn’t even have a name for, by contrast, was a gentle and slower beast. Its white coat was visible even in the peering darkness, its pace frustratingly sedate.

You clung to the reins through the entirety of the night. The adrenaline that had fueled your escape was waning, replaced by exhaustion, a throbbing head, and a lack of sleep.

You hadn’t slept properly in days, and the weight of the past travels pressed heavily on your body. The steady, rhythmic plod of the horse’s hooves was almost lulling, and you found yourself fighting to keep your eyes open as you steered the beast Southwest.

You just have to keep going southwest, all the way. Then Arden will be there, your mind swirled with drowsiness.

Something sharp and unyielding wraps around your waist, yanking you violently from the saddle. You have barely time to gasp before you’re thrown to the ground, the impact knocking the breath from your lungs.

The horse, startled, rears up and bolts, disappearing into the morning light.

You lie on the forest floor, stunned and disoriented. Your vision is a blur of soft shades of orange and blue, indicating you have indeed snoozed somewhere along the night.

You begin to panic as the throbbing pain oozes off and a stranger points an arrow at your head.

“I wonder what kind of insanity consumed Ilya that now they are letting their Queens go on crusades into the woods alone,” his voice is rough, with a deep undertone that makes your nails claw at the earth beneath you. “Get up. Slowly.”

You take the opportunity to do so, with the dress you are wearing, it’s better if you are on your feet than in full display to your enemy.

Rising to your feet, you take that your foolish and careless act of rendering yourself to sleep awarded you with your captivity. Jimin must have ordered his men to search for you as soon as he saw the empty room, and as you slept through the night, you lost terrain on them.

Idiot. Idiot. idiot!, Guilt gnaws at you.

“You better kill me now,” you say through gritted teeth. “I won’t go back!”

“Kill you?” the strange soldier dares to look amused and a chill climbs down your spine. Oh Gods, he’s going to have his fun with me first, you panic. “Oh no, my Queen. I have better plans,”

“No!” you grunt, fumbling with the silk of your dress to get a hold of your dagger.

“I wasn’t asking.” he exudes confidence in his statement and you feel your blood boil.

He lowers his bow, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he starts taking slow and assured steps toward you.

This is a play for him. He’s having fun.

His eyes are a deep sea of black and he pins you with it, his stare so intense it’s like you’re drowning in tar.

But then they turn round and alert, snapping to look in the direction of a rust of leaves.

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, but you can’t take your eyes off him.

In a quick and sudden move, he grabs you by the waist, taking you by surprise at the ease he does it as he rolls the both of you to take refuge at a large trunk of a tree.

Your body is caged between the tree and his own, which feels like warm steel as he presses it further on you. When he covers your mouth with his hand, pinning you with his eyes once more, you notice his cloak.

A brown ragged thing that now serves as a disguise for both of you when he pulls the hood to shield his face. He can’t be a soldier, is the first conclusion you make.

Not one from Ilya.

His nose is so close to yours that it tingles.

And from this close, you can see a deep scar on his tanned cheekbone. You gulp.

“Do not make a sound, Honey,” he whispers, his nose brushing your own.

taglist. @starvvie @kookisoorecs @httpextaevaganza @codeinebelle @ttanniett @hoseoksluv89

*comment down bellow if you want to be part of it ♡

[optimizche]

Missing (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Author's note: This can be a sole piece or a multi-chapter series, depending on your wants, hence your feedback on the same is much appreciated.

Warnings: Angst. Unrequited love.

Being a daughter of the Master of Laws of Viserys The Peaceful's Small Council ensured that you were blessed with a beautiful life that almost made up for the absence of your mother. But it were the healing abilities that you inherited from birth that truly made you special.

Unlike any maester who had to rely on their poultices, teas and potions to heal wounds, you could heal with the simplest touch of your hand.

Word of your "powers" was kept a closely guarded secret, your presence being constantly needed around the royal family to tend to their wounds and maladies.

When the Rogue Prince Daemon suffered injuries during tourneys or during battles such as one at the Stepstones, you were at hand to heal him.

When the King himself fell ill after cutting his hand upon one of the swords on the Iron Throne, it was you who were summoned to tend to his health. The King eventually had confided in you that had you been born a few years earlier, perhaps you would have been able to save the life of his beloved Queen Aemma. It was a guilt you carried deep within yourself, having lost your own mother to childbirth.

Being an innately gifted healer as a child, you were granted access to the highest and best possible education in Westeros, something that was accessible only to members of the Royal blood.

You grew up along with the young princes. Sons of the Kings's eldest daughter Princess Rhaenyra: Jacaerys, Lucerys and baby Joffrey. And the King's own children with Queen Alicent Hightower: Aegon, Aemond and Helaena.

Over the course of the years, you had grown especially close to the Princes and Princess Helaena, taking your lessons with the children of the Royal Family a rare opportunity afforded to you on account of your abilities.

But it was Prince Aemond you found yourself seeking out the most, being a source of comfort for him when his brother and nephews (playfully) teased him of the account of not being bonded to a dragon.

You discussed the arts and philosophy with Aemond, watching him train in combat in the courtyard of the Red Keep along with his brother and nephews while you received your medical education from Grand Maesters from the Citadel.

Being so closely knit with the Royal Family, you watched them drift apart, with Prince Daemon taking Lady Laena Velaryon to wife and moving to Pentos, while Princess Rhaenyra moved to Dragonstone with her husband, Ser Laenor Velaryon.

Memories of the day still bring tears to your eyes, when you recall how tightly Jacaerys and Lucerys had hugged you before departing King's Landing and how you had kissed little Joffrey's tiny hand, feeling his fingers clutch at your own finger.

Even though you exchanged letters by ravens with the young princes Jacaerys and Lucerys, you could feel the divide growing between them and the children of the King and Queen Alicent.

Your closeness to Princess Rhaenyra's children did nothing to deter you from eventually falling in love with young Aemond before you even knew what love meant.

Perhaps it was during those long walks through the godswood where you spoke with him about your lessons. Or perhaps it was when he hugged you in tears, Aegon's cruel taunts for being dragonless finally getting under his skin. Or perhaps when he quietly confided in you that you were his best friend.

You couldn't describe the warmth swelling in your heart at his words when he told you how special and precious you were to him, in the naivety of your childhood.

But it would be a sombre event that led to the shattering of your heart.

--------

Attending the funeral of Lady Laena Velaryon at Driftmark was a sobering moment in the giddiness of your growing yet secret affection for Prince Aemond.

You watched as they buried Lady Laena at sea, where she could finally rest, being one with the waters of Driftmark.

Finding Jacaerys and Lucerys, you gave the princes a hug, the reunion between your friends bringing a smile to your lips. You comforted Lady Laena's daughters, Baela and Rhaena. And eventually, you met Prince Daemon.

"I wish you had been at Pentos with us, little one," Prince Daemon said with a sad smile. "Perhaps my brave girl and my child would've lived."

The words brought tears to your eyes as you remembered King Viserys' confession about Queen Aemma's death, a sudden sense of guilt wracking you. What use was your education if you couldn't save the loved ones of your loved ones?

Instead of allowing Prince Daemon to hug you in condolence, you ran away in tears, hoping to find Aemond and speak to him.

But the conversation you so desperately needed never came about. In place of it, you overheard an exchange between Aegon and Aemond that destroyed your heart.

------------

"You love her," you exhaled, feeling like you had received a blow to your chest. "You love her, do you not?"

Blood turning cold, your eyes met the young, snowy haired prince's.

"You told Aegon that if only your mother had betrothed you to Helaena, you would have done your duty," you said, hating how your voice trembled. "You love her, don't you, Aemond?"

"I don't know what has gotten into you tonight, but this can wait, I have a dragon to claim," he said, an arrogance edging into his voice, something that you had often seen in his interactions with Aegon or his nephews. You never dreamt that it would ever be directed at you.

"You need to answer me, Aemond. You owe our friendship this courtesy."

The young prince looked like he was in a rush, desperate to be anywhere else but here in this moment.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Yes, I do love Helaena! And what of it? Are you going to run and tell my mother? My father?"

Simply hearing his admission felt like your heart had been split into two and been set alight by dragonfire.

"No, I wouldn't dream of it. I-"

"Now if you will excuse me, I have a dragon to claim," he said, a lust for power glowing in his eyes as he pushed past you.

You fell to your knees, tears flooding into your eyes at the realisation that your love for him would forever remain unrequited. That Aemond had chosen a dragon over his best friend. That he loved Helaena and it would never be you...

Gasping and wiping furiously at your cheeks, you took off, running as swiftly as your feet could carry you, into the night, sneaking past the Targaryen household guards...

---------

The next morning, everything had changed. Aemond had lost an eye, he had claimed the biggest dragon in the seven realms, Vhagar, and he had lost his best friend, who's name he had cried out as he bled from his eye. And King Viserys' healer had gone missing.

Your heart had suddenly hardened to dragonglass, unyielding like Valyrian steel and you found yourself at Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon's feet as they were watching the Royal Fleet return to King's Landing along with Vhagar, Dreamfyre and Sunfyre, begging to them to shield you to take you away from the royal family and give you a place in their household in secret.

While Princess Rhaenyra was reluctant at your request, not wanting to deny her father the best medical care possible, it was Prince Daemon who understood your desperation. He convinced Princess Rhaenyra to smuggle you to Dragonstone, the two having made their own plans to marry and set Ser Laenor free to be with his lover Qarl in the Free Cities.

The two understood that having a healer of your calibre on their side would only prove advantageous, given how tense the situation was within the Royal Family.

The "official" story would be that you had gone missing, never to be found, giving your father the closure he could find, while Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra would raise you as their ward, in secret.

As you healed the Valyrian steel gash on Princess Rhaenyra's arm inflicted by Queen Alicent and Prince Lucerys' broken nose, a result of Aemond's actions, with a simple touch, they knew how valuable you'd be to them.

But even as you demonstrated your skill at healing, you felt a twinge of guilt, knowing full well that you could have healed Aemond's eye in a moment.

Yet you chose not to. Just as Aemond had made his choices, you had made yours.

And you had chosen a side in the war that would change the future of Westeros.

Part 2

[corviids]

first off, hope you’re having a great day so far. and wish you nothing but the best heading into the weekend.

adore your musings on the lucemond family dynamics. in that vein, you think any of the daughters would have a lady-suitor? or be the suitor of a lady? (sans Naerys, our best Storm’s End lady).

i can only imagine, perhaps Luke and Aemond’s last-oopsy-daisy-miracle baby, being a girl and Aemond being oh, god here we go again, with the courtship drama (internally, screaming/flashbacks from all their other kids). but she is like fear not, i’ve already found myself a wife, father! (insert the classic Aemond: 🧍🏼)

(also may be said petal-child gets to only be held to eating cake and riding dragon back with said wife, and the grandmothers are so wistful about that.)

hi anon !! thank you <333 i hope you have a good weekend as well :))

as for lady-suitors, ohhh i love this idea. i def think saera is bisexual cuz she’s a rhaenyra mini-me and we all know that rhaenyra definitely wanted to kiss laena (you can pry that from my cold dead hands). saera charms people regardless of their gender cuz she’s a menace.

if anyone ended up with a serious female suitor, i think it’d be rhaella or their youngest child (if she’s a girl). rhaella is ambitious and wants bigger and better in life and i can see her trying to court or being courted by a princess of dorne or the daughter of a powerful person from essos. rhaella spends her life chasing after thrill and leading sons of minor lords on until she meets a dornish princess and immediately melts into a nervous puddle.

if lucemond’s youngest daughter, i love the idea of her being a perfect blend of rhaenyra and alicent. unlike all her siblings that marry into powerful houses or join the citadel/knighthood, she falls in love with the daughter of a minor house. one part of aemond wants his daughter to marry into a powerful family like her sisters, but at the same time he’s not gonna fight against the opportunity to have his baby girl staying at summerhall for the rest of her life. just imagining aemond’s youngest daughter bringing a girl home and everyone expects aemond to act a certain way and instead he just gives his standard “i have a dragon and i’m not afraid to use it if you hurt her”

[harrylovesteas]

xoxo , little bird .ᐟ ( modern hotd )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ the end of a chapter.

summery : you and your two best friends are preparing to move to king’s landing for the summer. as always , helaena is always right.

rating : mature , this chapter will include drug use and mature language.

hello , my little birds , i know , i have been silent for sometime now. i’ve seen your messages that have piled up over the last few months , and i can promise i have not abandoned you. i’m sure our lovely nobles have been praying to the seven that i would not return. but , alas , i am not here for them. of course , i take pride in exposing their affairs and showing all of their nasty flaws. but i’m the pride of smallfolk , i live to show you all that all of your ‘idols’ are nothing more than the worst of the seven kingdoms.

now , that is is summer and all of our favorites are swarming the capital once again , what can we expect this summer , i wonder? i’ve seen several questions whether i suspected that our favorite mysterious prince would reunite with the baratheon sisters after their orgy , but i do not think this will happen. several little birds in storm’s end informed me that floris and cassandra have not gotten along since they shared our prince. aegon , on the other hand , i’ve seen he’s already started his partying along the streets of silk with some of the locals’ favorite dancers. i’m sure our lovely queen will be paying off the tabloids to make sure all the videos and photos do not leak into the media , but do not fear , the green queen cannot buy my silence and you shall find them linked in his album like always. i’ve also heard that our dreamy helaena will be returning this summer now that she has graduated citadel university this year. i suspect she will be returning within a few days with our daring daeron and baela who also attends the oldtown university.

in other news , we have heard that princess rhaenyra and prince daemon have returned with their children from their quick family vacation in pentos. jacaerys seems to have gotten a tan , joffrey has apparently gotten past his biting habit , rhaena has been charming all the elites across the narrow sea , the two youngest princes have been sleeping , and lastly , i’ve heard the whispers that our young lucerys has been an absolute menace to society.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ as always , my little birds , send me photos , videos and all the dirty details that you have heard and witnessed.

until next time ,

xoxo

your favorite little bird. 

Boxes lay scattered around the house you had shared with Helaena and Baela. Now that your final semester closed behind you, and graduation passed, your university home showed the close of your academic career. For weeks now, you and the eldest Targaryen girl remained close to campus as your rental agreement had not ended until now. If the three of you had been mildly responsible you would have started packing as soon as the semester had ended as Helaena had suggested, but instead, the three of you manage to push off packing until only two nights before the end of your lease. Of course, the trio had deep cleaned their humble abode before packing, but it was not until the night before the move-out day that everything had been packed into a mountainous amount of boxes. 

Your body officially ached with the amount of of packing you had done, and all you wanted to do at this point was take a hot shower and wash away the dried sweat that surely covered every inch of your body. Letting out an exasperated sigh, your legs lay spread out along the cherry hardwood floor of the dining room and you began to lay back on the ground. With your eyes closed, your back cracked as it realigned itself. If you knew that the movers would not be knocking at the front door at any moment, you probably could have drifted off into a somewhat needed slumber.

Somewhere in the kitchen, by your guess, by the island came a loud crash. A groan passed through your lips, but your eyes remained shut.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ shit,❞ Baela hissed as footsteps coming from Helaena’s former bedroom flooded your ears.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝What happened?❞ the blonde questioned finding you unmoving able Baela bent picking up the large box once again.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝Our snack box scared the shit out of me, that’s what happened,❞ Baela remarked with slight annoyance. ❝ do we even need all of this for our ride to King’s Landing?❞ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝We are not throwing it all out,❞ the eldest female argued for the fifth time since she instructed that you and Baela pack it all up earlier that day. ❝ besides, if we don’t eat it all, I’m sure Daeron will eat most of it.❞

While Baela began to argue with her cousin, you could feel your eyes roll, all you wanted was some sort of peace and clearly, that was not going to happen any time soon. Part of you wanted to know how you got yourself in such a predicament. If you would have told yourself that you would be spending your last summer of freedom with your roommate and her family, you would have laughed. Of course, when you and Helaena had been fast friends in your freshman year of university and moved in together, you knew that you two would be inseparable. But, what you didn’t count on was how it felt wrong when the two of you were apart. Then, when Baela had started hanging around the two of you so much that she lived at your place, it only made sense to add her to the lease and make it official. Now, the three of you felt more like sisters than roommates, and you knew that the three of you were the lucky ones. Especially when you heard all of the horror stories of bad roommates. 

But that did not mean that the three of you did not have your issues as well. Baela was a wild child, the very definition of the life of the party. She was beyond gorgeous, had a huge heart, and had the loudest laugh. When Baela was around there was little doubt of not having a good time. Helaena was artistic, divine beauty, quiet, and like you indulged in marijuana.  Where you fit between the two of them you weren’t certain, you had been more reserved and less trusting of the two of them combined. Where you loved music as much as both of them, you would rather stay at home with a good book or movie rather than go out. You were no saint, but the idea of being caught up in some sort of trouble made you more reserved than the two of them. While royalty flowed in their blood; family, duty, and honor ran through yours, and due to that you feared that your actions would reflect poorly on your family. Arguably,  that made you the 'good girl’ of the group, but even that did not seem right. It was well known that you had the worst temper out of the trio. Each moment it was as though you were one inch from letting go and saying every harsh thing on your mind, Helaena always said it had to do with the fact that you were a March Pisces, but since you did not know much about the zodiac signs, you did not know if this was true or not. 

Feeling someone standing over you, your eyes reluctantly flew open to see Helaena smiling down at you. Her smile was so genuine that you wondered if you had missed something. Did you manage to doze off with no knowledge?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ Comfortable?❞ Hel questioned.

Just as you opened your mouth to answer the Targaryen, there was a knock at the front door.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ I got it,❞ Baela exclaimed unnecessarily loud making her way to the front door, while Helena offered you her hand.

Accepting her soft hand you stood and readjusted your black spandex shorts that kept creeping up your stomach to meet your red crop top. 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ I can’t wait to sleep,❞ you admitted with a small yawn.

A small tsk came from the blonde girl. ❝ you’ll have plenty of time for sleep on the drive. Baela can handle making sure the movers put all of our stuff in the moving truck since we already packed a our essentials in the car for the drive.❞ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ And what are we going to do, hm? Hide in the car and sleep?❞ you questioned somewhat hopefully.

For a moment you noticed a trace of mischief swirling in the lilac hues that were watching you closely.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ No, I have a much better idea, just help me with the box of snacks❞ she promised.

Knowing that it was futile to argue, you followed the girl into the kitchen. Though the snack box was large, you knew that it was not a two-person carrying job.

With both of you holding one handle, the two of you made for the front door as Baela and four movers entered. 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ Bae, can you help walk them through our stack of boxes, while Butterfly and I finish some last-minute things?❞ Helaena stated more than asked.

As if no was not an option the two of you made your way to the trunk of the black Escalade. Effortlessly, Helaena opened the passenger’s backseat door and you sat the box down on the floor of the car. Questionably, you watched the girl dig through her sports bag. You almost asked what she was looking for, but before you could voice your question the mischievous look was back before she showed you a joint rolled in her pink paper and a lighter in her hand. Now, you had a smile of your own tugging at your features.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ We are ending our life here just like we started.❞ Helaena commented as light as air.

Like the two of you did many times before you found yourselves sitting next to an old oak tree in the front yard. Your head rested against the bark of the tree as you watched the blonde light the joint between her lips. When it finally became light, the potent scent of the weed flooded your senses. When the girl passed it to you wordlessly, you graciously accepted and took a long puff. It wasn’t long before your senses grew dull and you felt yourself relax. 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ My uncle and his family should be asleep by the time we reach their place, but Daeron will be awake since he is finishing packing. He said he will let us in so we don’t wake anyone, and that will give us enough time to shower before sleep. I’ll wake you and Baela in the morning and then we will officially start our road trip.❞

Though you heard this plan a thousand times, you simply nodded.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝Are you sure that your parent won’t mind you bringing me? Baela has been trying to get me to stay with her on Driftmark for the last couple of days. Or I could go back to Riverrun for a couple of weeks. Besides, I know their nerves must be shot with having the four of you home for the summer anyway.❞

 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ Absolutely not,❞ Helaena began. Her voice was strong and laced with what you could only assume was offense at the notion, ❝ you hate Riverrun, first of all. Second of all, my parents adore you and I have been your best friend longer than Baela. She can suck my dick if she thinks you’d be staying on the island rather than with me. Besides, I don’t know what I’d do without you.❞

As if on cue you passed the joint over to the blonde after taking several puffs.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ Aren’t you sick of me yet,❞ you questioned playfully.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝Hell no, you’ve been my constant for six years now. I think you’ve seen me at my worst and my best more than my own family. Plus, what we do if we didn’t live with each other? FaceTime constantly?❞ She laughed lightly at the thought, ❝ we would be on the phone more than enjoying the moments as they came. This is better, trust me. Plus, now you’ll finally meet my siblings in the flesh.❞ 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ And what will you do if they all hate me?❞ You asked a little more worried than you cared to admit.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ They’ll love you as much as I do. I just know it.❞ she promised.

The pair sat smoking until they had finished the joint and noticed the movers pulling out of the driver. The atmosphere was filled with silence other than the faintest sounds of summer night’s around them. Down the road, they could hear music coming from one of the frat houses and bugs buzzing around in the sky. Entering the house for the last time, you mentally said the final goodbye to your home and all the memories echoing around the walls. Your eyes burned from the smoke that you had been welcoming into your lungs, but what you handed expected was for your eyes to do was begin tearing up.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ Just like that, we’re starting all over. ❞ you murmured to Helaena who pulled you into a hug. 

Feeling left out, you felt Baela’s arms wrap around the two of you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❝ C’mon you old ladies, we should head out.❞ Baela stated pulling you from the ghosts of the years prior.

Grabbing your three keys from the countertop, you follow the three of them from the home before flicking off the lights for the last time. Locking the door from behind you hand the keys to Baela, who tucks them under the rug as the landlord would be swinging by after dinner with his wife.

It felt like your schooling had ended in a blink of an eye. Sitting in the backseat, Helena sat in the front with Baela who drove. As the three of you abandoned the house your eyes locked on the house from the backseat until it was no longer insight.

Closing your eyes you sent a small prayer that this summer would be as memorable as your university years.

[baelonthebrave]

'til queendom come, ch. 5

[masterlist] [Ao3] [playlist]

aemond targaryen x targaryen oc

wordcount: 12,063

summary: the prince and the lady had loved each other since childhood, and it was plain for all to see. But what had drawn them to each other in the first place - their valour and virtue - threatened to tear them apart as they found themselves on opposing sides of a cruel war.

warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-typical incest, abusive parent/child relationship, nsfw/18+ in later chapters, mentions of canon sexual violence & abuse, including against minors

a/n: gah I'm excited about posting this one! All the love I've been getting is amazing, guys. Hope you enjoy! Ch6 will be up next weekend <3

content warning: mentions of canon sexual violence & abuse, including against minors. it's no more than what is already in the show and there is no descriptions but please proceed with caution if that is something that could be triggering to you. Stay safe, friends <3

Even being kept away from King’s Landing by her father for long years could not keep Sena from thinking of Aemond day and night. Their letters only grew in frequency and volume, though Sena had well-warned the Prince that nothing came to her without meeting Maester Gerardys’ eye first. So the content remained their usual conversations of court, training, studies, but Sena still devoured each one hungrily and replied with as much haste as she dared.

…You had best train hard in these coming weeks, as my father has acquiesced to my joining the family at court to defend Lucerys against Ser Vaemond Velaryon’s overreaching for power. That we should have to dignify such calumnies with a response is unthinkable to me, but I shall gladly take the opportunity to visit with Helaena and the children, the King and Queen… and you, of course. I plan on finding out if Ser Criston has taught you anything worth knowing.

The teasing letter to Aemond had been met with an equally taunting reply.

…I pride myself on knowing many things worth knowing, my lady, but few of them are Cole’s wisdom. Regardless, you shall be on the receiving end of my knowledge upon your next visit, should that be your desire. My only request is that you be mindful of what you wish for.

It had raised a violent blush in Sena’s cheeks, and her only thought was that Maester Gerardys must be a fool if he truly did not suspect anything. But then, what did a Maester of the Citadel, hunchbacked from long years spent in libraries and rookeries know of matters of love?

Sena came to a sudden halt as she thought it, actually stopping dead in her pacing of her bedroom. Love… was that what this was? She loved Aemond as family and as a friend, she always had since they were six years old. But as more than that? I think I might love you, that was what she had told him, in Vhagar’s cavern. She desired him, of that there was no doubt. She had found herself growing hot and flushed at the thought of his kisses, on her lips and neck, the way he had pulled their hips flush together.

There was desire, and then there was love. The men of her family had always made quite clear what it was to desire a woman without loving her - they never made any secret of their habits on the Street of Silk, spoke of it quite openly in fact. And love without desire… Ser Laenor and Princess Rhaenyra had loved each other, of that there was no doubt, but they had never looked at each other with that hunger that she often saw in men’s eyes.

When they worked as one together, love and desire… when Aemond had opened her eyes to the true machinations of her family, Sena had seen it in the glances that the Princess and Ser Harwin Strong shared with each other. The looks that the Princess and her father shared now. The pink tinge in Jace’s cheeks when Baela caught him watching her from across the training yard.

Trying to set the matter from her head for now, Sena resolved to simply talk to the Prince about it when she got to King’s Landing. What use would turning it over and over in her head do, far away from King’s Landing and with no means of speaking privately? No, it was of no use, she thought, shaking her head vehemently and going back to her packing.

The journey of the Princess’s household to King’s Landing was made by ship, to accommodate the staff, the small children and the Princess’ swelling belly - her third child with Sena’s father. The pace of the sea journey only unsettled Sena further, who was itching to get back to the city. She only felt herself grow calmer once she was passing through the gates of the Red Keep. She was, however, a little taken aback at the absence of any reception for their arrival. So it was going to be that sort of visit, she thought grimly, watching as the Princess and her father set foot in King’s Landing for the first time in many years.

The Princess was affronted and Sena’s father looked downright malevolent, so their children were more than happy to escape at the earliest opportunity. Rhaena went in immediate search of Baela, who had been ward to Princess Rhaenys these last few years, and the boys slipped off to follow the servants with their baggage to their rooms and get settled in. Sena followed a few paces behind Jace and Luke, her brow further furrowing with each seven-pointed star she laid eyes on where once had been the heraldry of her house. Dragon banners, dragon skulls, mosaics of flame and battle, all gone, replaced with holy imagery. Sena had little time for the faith the Conquerors had dutifully adopted when they came to Westeros - she was half Valyrian and half the blood of the First Men, after all. And if there were truly Gods up there watching her, she had never heard them. She chewed her lip and kept walking.

In her room, the servants were already unpacking her things and her own maidservant, Sophey had made sure that her training gear was laid out first for her. A long few days spent sitting around on a boat and a morning confined to a carriage had put an itch into her, and it was about time she scratched it. She stepped behind the changing screen and unceremoniously pulled her dress off over her head, swapping silk for leather. She laced her boots in a hurry and got her sword belt on just in time to catch up with Jacaerys and Lucerys on their own way to the yard. “Look at us, going to train without even being commanded! My father would be proud of us,” she said, and Jace smirked as if to say how unlikely that was. Luke had been wearing a solemn expression for days now, and it made Sena’s heart ache to see. She threw an arm around the shoulders of the young boy who was now at her chin. When had he gotten so tall? “You should be careful, sweet boy. If you keep frowning like that the wind will change and your face will be stuck that way,” she said, mimicking the grumpy look on his face to make him smile.

He turned up the corner of his mouth and leaned into her. “Sorry, just… nervous, I guess.”

“Don’t say sorry, it’s understandable,” Jace said from his brother’s other side, giving him a reassuring smile.

“It is. But you won’t be alone tomorrow. Your mother will speak for you, and we will all be by your side. You just have to stand there and look pretty,” Sena said and squeezed the young boy’s shoulders.

“Gods, that will be an impossible task then!” Jace said. Luke balked and gave him a shove, but it did the job, because he was laughing now rather than frowning. They laughed all the way down to the yard.

As Jace and Luke made their way over to the weapons racks, Sena took a moment to stand still in the buzz of the yard and take it in. The full rainbow of different heraldry passed before her eyes as lords and lordlings, knights and squires went about their drills. White cloaks of the Kingsguard whipped in motion as the finest knights in the realm refined their skills. And here she was, stood in the middle of it, and nobody could make her leave. The daughter of the King’s brother, the step-daughter of the Princess of Dragonstone and Heir to the Throne, a woman grown. No-one could tell her to go now, even if they wanted to.

And they did want to, she thought, watching different sets of eyes flit away from her as she turned to meet their disapproving glares. She ignored them and gripped the ruby-studded hilt of her sword in her hand and looked around for a worthy - and willing - opponent.

That was when her eyes caught on the telltale shock of silver blonde hair.

The last couple of years had been good to Aemond, shaving away the last of the childish roundness in his features and leaving him tall and lean. Better than that, he stood strong, wearing the eyepatch over his left eye without a hint of self-consciousness. She hoped she might have played some small part in that, desiring him and loving him despite what he thought of as his flaws.

Prince Aemond twisted out of Ser Criston Cole’s reach with all the fluidity of water, then brought himself back down on his opponent with deadly speed. Sena’s heart surged in her chest, and she pushed her way through the growing crowd of spectators. It seemed all the men on the yard wanted to watch the Prince and the Queen’s sworn shield dance, she thought with a surge of satisfaction as Aemond held his own against one of the finest knights in the realm.

She gritted her teeth as Ser Criston’s favoured Morningstar splintered Aemond’s shield on his arm. He looked utterly nonplussed though, keeping a calm focus on his opponent as he discarded the ruined shield. Then, Sir Criston was launching a barrage of attacks, and Sena gripped her arms tightly against her chest as she watched Aemond feint left, right, back. His clever eye spotted his opening and he threw Ser Criston’s next strike wide with his own sword, spinning around the Kingsguard to end with his blade at Ser Criston’s neck.

Ser Criston grinned with pride as the spectators broke into applause. Sena watched Aemond’s back with her heart in her throat. She had not seen him fight in years, since they were children, and he had grown into an incredible swordsman. Like her own style in a lot of ways - fluid, dynamic, conserving stamina and exploiting mistakes where they were made. “Well done, my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time,” Ser Criston said, Aemond’s sword still at his neck.

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” the Prince replied. His voice sounded colder and harder than it had when she had last seen him. “Nephews?” Sena spotted Jace and Luke across the way from her, holding Aemond’s gaze with an iciness that set her on edge. “Have you come to train?”

Jace bristled and Luke swayed on the spot, discomfited. Sena gritted her teeth. Must he tease them so? “Or you could try picking on someone your own size,” the words were coming out before she’d even decided to speak them. Aemond, Ser Criston, Jace, Luke and all the other spectators turned to look at her. Her jaw tightened as a wave of titters spread through the crowd.

All of that melted away when Aemond smiled at her, though. He inclined his head to her. “My lady.”

“My prince,” she said, willing the sudden thrum of her heart to slow.

Her stepbrothers and the assembled knights and lords were distracted by the arrival of Ser Vaemond Velaryon’s procession into the lower yard, leaving Sena and Aemond free to take their fill of each other. He was only six feet away and it was still too far. “How have you been?” She asked him, in lieu of all of the things she actually wanted to say.

“Lonely,” he said, low enough so that it was only for her ears, “and you?”

“Forlorn,” she countered, and his lips twitched, “though I’ll feel better once I’ve beaten you.”

He had that maddening smirk on his face that she longed to kiss away. The people around them were starting to disperse now, going back to their sparring matches or following the Velaryons into the keep so they might ready themselves for supper. “Alright. If it’s a duel you desire, you shall have one,” Aemond said, turning and walking in an arc to clear some space around them, “though, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Sena barely had time to draw before Aemond was on her, and the clash of steel rung out across the yard. She shifted back and let him come at her again, knocking his blow aside and swinging around him in a replication of his earlier move. He knew his own tactics, though, and ducked out of her way with fluid haste.

It was less a fight and more a dance, Aemond taking every opportunity to drag her close and get in her space. At one point, she was too slow to duck away from him and he threw his sword arm around her, pulling her to his chest. Disguised in the tussle, he ducked his head and pressed a kiss to her neck, and Sena shivered even as she sharply elbowed him in the gut.

He doubled over, looking betrayed but amused, and met her sword again with his own as she went back on the attack.

Much later, when they were just about the last two left in the yard, exhausted and sweating, Aemond threw his sword down in the dirt. “I yield,” he said, raising his hands. “My mother hates me being late to dinner.”

Sena laughed. “You’re such a mummy’s boy.”

He made a face at her but did not deny it. “Guilty as charged.”

Sena sheathed her sword and kicked his own one back towards him. She cast a furtive glance around at the lingering knights on the yard and servants on the walkways. This bloody place, she feared they would get no time alone her entire visit. “You have become a fine swordsman, my prince,” she said.

He nodded. “And you, my lady. It seems your father did something right by you, at long last.”

She cast a sharp glance around, shocked at his being so brazen. “Aemond,” she hissed. When did he and his family become so bold? Removing the heraldry of House Targaryen, flouting her father where they could be heard. She knew the King was not well, but things had truly changed.

He gave her a look. “It’s alright. He doesn’t have any friends at my mother’s court.” His mother’s court.

“Still-“

“Sena,” he said, and hearing her name from his lips was like a salve on a burn, sweet relief and tingling sensation. He drew close enough to touch. “Stop worrying. You’re safe with me.”

She sighed, and knocked their arms together as she turned. “Walk me to my room?” There was no chance of her father letting her dine with the Queen tonight, so she knew she would not see Aemond again until the morrow, and she was reticent to leave him.

Their elbows knocked and the backs of their hands grazed together as Aemond took her the long way up through the stairs and hallways of the Red Keep. “Hard to believe this is all I get of you,” he said lowly, his lips barely moving, “snatched moments when your father deigns to let you out of his sight.”

She brushed two fingers over the back of his hand and he pressed into her touch. “And it shan’t even last long. I doubt they’ll want to hang around after they have reaffirmed Lucerys’s claim.”

“I wouldn’t be too confident, my love,” he said, coming into the quiet corridor that led to her room. “Things are different around here. The winds are changing. My father is- he is not well. Or so the maesters say. I haven’t seen him for myself in a moon’s turn.”

Something ached inside of her at the thought of her ailing uncle suffering through the days. “A moon?”

His lips were pursed. “Don’t look surprised. He had more interest in you than he had in me growing up, so I don’t plan on running to his bedside and playing the grieving son now.”

Sena frowned. She hadn’t meant it like that, not truly. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

He bit his lip and leaned back against the wall opposite her door. She made no move to leave him just yet, but she kept a careful distance. She had learned they needed to be careful who they were seen by, but he also seemed different since the last time she’d seen him. Less boyish and moody, more measured and tightly wound. Like he was lying in wait.

He seemed to be arguing with himself about something, an argument that he eventually lost, as he opened his mouth to speak. “Is it true about your sisters?” He asked. She frowned at the set of his brow. “The Clubfoot has passed us whispers of them being betrothed to my nephews so that Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys will align themselves with my half-sister.”

Sena set her jaw in irritation. “You don’t align yourself with the crowned heir, Aemond, it’s called loyalty-“

He glared at her. “I am loyal to my family,” he said, pushing off of the wall to draw closer to her, like a stalking wildcat. “My true family. Meaning my mother, my sister, my brothers…” he cast a look down either side of the hall to check they were alone, then pressed his hand into her own, “and you.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Aemond-“

He shook his head to stop her. “Don’t you see, Sena? This could be our chance, you and I,” his voice dropped to a whisper, drawing closer to her still. He held her gaze and he had mastered that serious look of his when they were six years old. “Your sisters are marrying. My father still lives. We are both of age. This could be our chance, Sena, our last chance, before they force other arrangements on us when everything goes to shit.”

She took a sharp breath, unsure if she was understanding him correctly. “Do you mean-“

There was unshakeable certainty in his eye. “Marry me.”

Sena’s vision swam a little unevenly, looking down at their joined hands. Like two interlocking puzzle pieces, made for each other. “I wish it were that simple,” she said, her voice sounding shaky. “My father-“

“It is that simple,” he interrupted, his jaw set. “I do not wish for a penny of a dowry from my uncle so he can have no objections. Do not ask him, Sena, tell him.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind? Do you know my father?” 

But he was not listening to her though, lost in a fantasy of his own creation. “Marry me,” he said, bringing up a hand to cup her cheek. His hands were warm and rough and Sena could not help but lean into his touch. “Marry me and I will give you all that is mine to give you, Sena. You will be a Princess, you will live in luxury, your rooms will be down the hall from Helaena. All for the small price of having to wake up next to me each and every morning for the rest of your life.”

She laughed and pressed their hands to the space over her heart. She could imagine nothing sweeter. “What an arduous task that would be.”

“I know. Cruel, isn’t it?” He japed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

It was the only thing in the world she had ever truly desired, and yet a single doubt swirled in her mind. Her mouth went dry, but she forced it out. “Do you love me, Aemond?”

He went still and the smile evaporated from his features. “You have to ask?” He was stunned. He clenched his jaw and anger clouded his handsome features, turning his head to look down the hall to where her father and Princess Rhaenyra were quartered. He was like a tempest, she thought, unpredictable and ferocious. “That brute will pay for every time he’s ever made you feel unloveable, Sena-“

“Forget about him. It’s not about him. This is about us,” she gritted out, pulling his gaze back to hers with a hand under his chin. She was so sick of everything in her life being about Prince Daemon. She just wanted Aemond to say it, so she could hear it and know it was true. “Do you love me?”

He looked at her, truly looked at her and the anger dissipated from his features. Their gazes held each other and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. She could feel his breath on her lips, smell the rosemary oil in his hair. “I have loved you half a lifetime, Sena.”

“Aemond-”

“No, I mean it,” he said with a soft smile. “Ever since that day in the Dragonpit, I have been blissfully happy every day I have had you, savagely lonely every day I have not. And every second of every hour, I have loved you.”

She couldn’t take it any longer, the swell of her chest and the burning in her soul. She surged forwards, taking his face in both her hands and kissing him desperately, not giving a damn who could interrupt at any moment. He was surprised at first, then pushed back against her, and she felt her back hit the wall, felt his hands cushion the back of her head and tangle in her hair as he kissed her back mercilessly, a dam breaking inside of him. Tears sprang free from the corners of her eyes and a whimper ripped from her throat as she clawed at him, needing him closer, needing him never to leave her side again, not even for a moment. Everything in her world started and ended with him.

He pushed in closer and they were joined from thigh to rib to shoulder. His hips did a queer roll against hers. Friction sparked in some secret place and she gasped, stars bursting behind her eyes. She fisted her hands into his hair, then moved them down to his back, pressing him closer as he mouthed lasciviously at her neck. His lower back curved inwards, his hips moved again and her hands flew to the swell of his backside, urging him to keep doing whatever he was doing.

All of a sudden, she was left cold as he broke away from her with a strangled sound, panting into the space between them. She was overcome with a desire to make him want her, to use every inch of herself to take him apart. She grabbed his hands and pulled them to her waist, her hips. His eye was dark with hunger. “Come inside,” she said in a bare whisper, “forget about the rest of them, we can make something up, just come inside. Come inside.”

He gritted his teeth together. “No,” he whispered, “no.” He was struggling, she could tell, his hands trembling as he drew them back from her body.

“Aemond.”

“No. I won’t ruin you.”

She would not hear it. It was madness. She was twenty years of age and she could not choose when she would know another’s touch. She was not one of Helaena’s fragile insects to be pinned behind glass, preserved and possessed. “Ruin?” She asked softly. “How could something so beautiful ever be ruin?”

He sighed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We would be beautiful, wouldn’t we? You and I, together as one?” 

She shivered against him at the thought. How was he so controlled? “Show me,” she whispered. “Show me,” she begged.

He pulled back and shook his head. “I would never do anything to endanger you, Sena,” he said and squeezed her hands in his once more before letting go. “Talk to your father.”

His absence against her was like a winter wind. “Aemond,” she pleaded.

“Talk to your father.”

Then he was gone, stalking up the hall before he could lose his composure and change his mind.

She let out a breath and leaned back against her door like a marionette with cut strings.

It took Sena an inordinate amount of time to ready herself for supper as she found herself becoming distracted, brushing her fingers over her lips, her neck, her hips, her waist, everywhere he had touched. The tangles in her hair that he had put there, raking his long fingers through her curls. She sighed and stared wistfully in the looking glass, seeing how they had looked together in the reflection the morning of Helaena’s wedding.

It was only when her maidservant knocked and entered that she dragged herself out of her thoughts. “The Queen and the Princess will be in the Princess’s rooms after supper, m’lady. They will be expecting you,” she said as she helped Sena pin back her hair.

“Thank you, Sophey,” Sena said with a distant smile.

Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon looked particularly perturbed at supper, Sena thought, but she did not have the time nor the inclination to find out why. She ate her supper, clicked her nails off of her glass with impatience and excused herself as quickly as she could without being rude - or terribly rude, anyway. Speaking to her father would have to wait until after the proceedings tomorrow, not that she was overly upset at the idea of putting off that task for as long as possible.

No sooner was she admitted to the Princess’s sitting room than she was being gathered into Helaena’s arms in a crushing hug. “Princess,” she murmured, combing her fingers through blonde tresses.

“Oh Sena, it’s so good to see you,” Helaena said, pulling back and planting a kiss on both of Sena’s cheeks. Sena blushed and brought her in for one more hug.

“Lady Visenya,” the Queen greeted, and Sena stepped away from her daughter.

She curtseyed before the Queen. “Queen Alicent,” she said. The Queen’s sober expression melted into a smile and she was being pulled into another hug. 

“It’s good to see you.”

“Mama!” Came a small squawk, and Sena turned around to see a blonde-haired girl tugging at Helaena’s skirts with a wooden knight in hand. The girl’s twin was behind her, sitting on the rug before the fire and staring at the stranger in his midst.

“Oh,” Sena breathed at the sight of the two perfect little souls.

Helaena beamed and crouched down next to the girl. “Jaehaera, I have told you about Aunt Sena, haven’t I? Mummy’s friend?”

The little girl turned wide lilac eyes upwards at Sena and leaned into her mother, trying to hide in the folds of her dress. She nodded shyly.

“Aunt Sena?” Sena asked Helaena, surprised by the emotion thick in her voice.

Helaena smiled. “It felt right.”

Sena nodded, not trusting herself to speak without her voice wobbling. The Queen laid a hand on her shoulder. She drew a breath to steady herself. “And the babe?”

“Maelor is with his wet nurse in the nursery,” the Queen said. “He still sleeps most of the day, but he’s a delightful little boy when he wakes, all smiles. The Princess has done so well.”

“I see that,” Sena said with a watery smile as Helaena ducked her head, blushing at the praise.

Sena knew it was improper to sit down on the carpet next to the twins in the fine dress she had worn to dinner, especially in the presence of the Queen. But Helaena’s children were too sweet to resist, she was sure their grandmother could understand that. They were precocious too, examining this new intruder to their little world with curiosity. Jaehaera toddled over to her and tugged at her hair with a small, pudgy fist, causing the ladies to chuckle at her. The boy brought her a small toy horse, complete with a mane and tail. “Hello, my Prince, what is your name?” Sena asked. Jaehaera seemed to trust her quick enough, clambering into her lap, but Jaehaerys remained a little unsure, standing back from her.

Lilac eyes dipped low out of shyness and he mumbled, “Jery…”

“They have not quite mastered their names yet,” Helaena said with a doting smile from her seat on the settee. Her body was still recovering from the birth of her younger son, but Sena’s heart surged to see her practically glowing. Motherhood suited her kind and gentle friend well.

“You have made a good start, though, Jaehaerys,” Sena told the little boy, holding the pony toy in one hand and Jaehaera in the other. “I have never mastered mine yet, everyone still calls me Sena. They give us frightfully difficult names to say, don’t they?” She said, sending a playful smirk at the Queen.

Queen Alicent raised an eyebrow. “Do not point such an accusation at me, my lady. If it had been up to me, my boys would have been Addams and Gwaynes,” she said with good humour.

Sena laughed. “Helaena remains a pretty name, though, for a pretty girl.” Her best friend went a little pink in the cheeks at that. Sena looked down at the sweet little horse in her hand. “Is this your favourite toy?” She asked the little boy.

His white-blonde hair was smooth, sleek and fell about his shoulders. He brushed it out of his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded.

“It was a name day gift, wasn’t it, Jaehaerys? Tell Aunt Sena who it was from,” Helaena said, and sent a secretive smile at her friend.

Jaehaerys chewed his lip. “Uncle ‘Emon.”

Sena broke into a grin and turned the little horse over in her hands, looking at the matching knight that Jaehaera had left on the carpet. It was a sweet thing, lovingly painted and carved. She was sure he’d maybe gone out into the city and bought it from a merchant, but she also wouldn’t put it past the Prince to be hiding some great carpentry skill from her. He was a man of mystery after all. “Is Uncle Aemond good to you?”

Jaehaerys nodded and Jaehaera chimed in from Sena’s lap. “He says when I’m big, I can go on Vhagar with him!” She said excitedly.

The Queen stiffened in her chair, looking alarmed, but Helaena was smiling widely and Sena’s heart was melting at the thought of Aemond bringing toys and planning adventures with his niece and nephew. “Well, Prince Jaehaerys will just have to come with me on Grey Ghost, then, and we can have a race,” she said, giving the little boy a smile. That seemed to finally win him over and he nodded vigorously, plopping himself down on the carpet before Sena and his sister.

The twins played with their sweet little toys and Sena joined in with a small dragon, painted blue and sent all the way from Oldtown by their Uncle Daeron. “Are we like to see Prince Daeron back at court soon, my Queen?” Sena asked. “I haven’t seen that sweet boy’s smile in far too long.”

The Queen looked wistful. “I hope so, Sena. Believe me, no one misses him more than I. But he is no longer a boy, or so he tells me! It seems he has grown much and learned more as ward to my cousin, Lord Ormund.”

“He must come back soon,” Helaena said, and looked at Sena. “And you must stay. I so wish we could all be together again, like the old days. Imagine, Sena, we could raise our babes together and they could grow up as close as we did!”

It was a beautiful dream, and it made Sena’s heart ache just to think about it. Their children being as mischievous and unruly as they had been, driving Helaena and herself mad. Taking suppers with Helaena and walking with her in the godswood. Kissing Aemond awake in the morning. She would fix his eyepatch and he would lace her dresses, just so they could have as much alone time together as they could before they began their respective days. 

Gods, what a sweet dream it was.

Sena caught the Queen staring at her curiously, like she was trying to divine her thoughts. She felt her cheeks go pink as she wondered how long she had been sitting there silent, thinking of the life she could lead if she was Aemond’s wife. Jaehaera saved her though, by letting off a gigantic yawn. “Gosh, how does such a big sound come out of someone so little?” Sena said, and the little girl giggled and squirmed as Sena tickled her sides.

Helaena sighed happily. “Come, then, bedtime. Say goodnight to Aunt Sena.”

“Night!” Jaehaera said, pushing herself up and wobbling a little as she clambered out of Sena’s lap. 

Sena laughed and ducked her head to press a kiss to the girl’s hair. “Good night, Princess.”

Jaehaerys pushed himself up from the rug as well, and leaned over a little uncertainly to wrap his little arms around Sena’s neck. “Night,” he said quietly.

Sena rubbed his back. “Good night, my Prince,” she said. “And don’t forget, we’ll have our race with Uncle Aemond and Vhagar before long.”

The boy gave her a shy smile and gave his hand to his mother. “I’ll be back once the wet nurse and I have gotten them down to sleep, Sena. Shouldn’t be too long,” Helaena said and went to lead the twins down the hall to the nursery.

Sena pushed herself up off the rug and came to sit opposite the Queen, before the fire. She looked at Queen Alicent, bathed in the warm glow of the fire, and thought distantly that she was so beautiful. A graceful woman who had raised four children and now got to watch her grandchildren grow, she was regal, composed, demure. “They are wonderful. You must be so proud, my Queen.”

Alicent regarded her happily. “Endlessly,” she said simply.

Sena drew a bracing breath. She was regretful to spoil the Queen’s good mood, but the question had been preying on her mind since she arrived. “And Prince Aegon? Is he a… proud father?”

The smile on the Queen’s face regretfully evaporated at that, just as Sena had feared it would. “Aegon is… Aegon,” she said with a sigh. “You know how he is. Neither I nor Helaena nor his brother could tell you where he is right now, and that’s how he likes it. Perhaps the less that is said about him, the better.”

Sena frowned, her grip on her skirts tightening. “Is he at least good to Helaena?” She asked. “I try to glean what I can from her letters but she is hesitant to speak ill of him. Or speak of him at all, really.”

Alicent gave her a forced smile. “Truly, it is because she has little to report of him,” she said. “He leaves her and the children alone for the most part. He terrorises the serving girls but… Gods forgive me, I rather prefer that to him terrorising Helaena.”

Sena frowned. Prince Aegon had always been odious in their childhood but easy enough to ignore. Had he truly worsened so much? “He is not truly that bad, is he? There’s the drinking and the bad behaviour, yes. But underneath all that, he is still a good soul-“

“Did Aemond tell you?” The Queen interrupted suddenly. “I know he tells you almost everything, but I don’t know if he would wish to…” Her expression was grave.

Sena swallowed hard around a lump that had risen in her throat. “Did Aemond tell me what, my Queen?”

“How he… lost his innocence?” The Queen asked, a little red in the face.

“Oh,” Sena said dumbly, her own face flushing with colour. She’d always assumed Aemond would have sated his curiosity with serving girls or ladies on the Street of Silk by now. For a noble girl, her maidenhead was something to be guarded with her life. Despoilment could mean disowning, being married off to the first penniless hedge knight who would have her, or worse. But noble boys seemed to shrug off their virginity as young as they could with whoever they could. She’d never really wanted to think about how Aemond might have lost his, though. And she was not sure if she wanted to know how Aegon could be involved. “No, your Grace. He did not.”

“He was thirteen,” the Queen whispered between gritted teeth. “His scar had not even healed yet, he missed you desperately and he could not stand to look at himself in a looking glass, but Aegon brought him to the Street of Silk and bought him a whore.”

Sena’s insides churned. She gripped her skirts hard, her knuckles going white. She did not know what to say.

“The boys think I don’t know,” Alicent swiped a tear from her cheek with her thumb and shook her head to dispel the cloud of anger and grief about her. “Aegon… I don’t know how I made him so wrong.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sena said, partly because she believed it but also partly because she did not know what else to say. “Helaena and Aemond and Daeron are wonderful children that any mother would be proud to have raised.” She reached across the space between them and gently brushed the tears from the Queen’s cheeks with the backs of her fingers. Alicent caught Sena’s hands in her own and held them in her lap.

“Yes,” she said wetly. “They are, aren’t they? Let us speak of them. Let us not be sad when the Princess comes back.”

Sena felt it was not right to shrug off what the Queen was telling her, that it was clear that Alicent needed to speak about this. But she nodded. “If that is your wish, my Queen.”

She squeezed Sena’s hands. “It is,” she said, and let out a shaky sigh. “Tell me something good.”

Sena floundered for a second, opening and closing her mouth. “Erm… Prince Aemond and I duelled on the training yard today.”

The Queen nodded and smiled. “Yes. He told me at supper.”

Sena blushed. Of course he did. She wished he was here, he would know what to say, and she could speak to him about what she had just learned. But with his father so ill and his brother so… Aegon-like, she knew Aemond was currently shouldering what responsibilities of running the realm he could to take some of the weight off of his mother and grandfather. “Did he tell you I won?” By forfeit, perhaps, but she would take it.

That got the Queen to laugh, and Sena laughed with her, glad to banish a little of Alicent’s sadness. The Queen sniffed and shook her head free of the last of the darkness in her mind. Then, she turned her gaze back to Sena and gave her a serious look she was so used to seeing in her son. “Can I ask you a question, my dear?”

Sena nodded.

“Know you do not have to answer if you do not wish to,” Queen Alicent said.

The fire was crackling low in the grate, the warmth enveloping the Queen and her niece. Her words caused Sena to prickle with nerves, but she said, “If it is within my power to answer it, I will.”

The Queen nodded, then drew a breath. “Do you… love my son, Sena? Do you love Aemond?”

The question caught her unawares, and her heart seized in her chest. She looked down at her hands in the Queen’s lap. Thought of Aemond’s sharp mind, handsome face. His prowess with a sword, his glee on dragonback, his boyish laugh. His smile. How he fit their hands together like they were made for each other.

Maybe they were made for each other.

“Yes,” Sena breathed. “I do.”

The Queen nodded, like she already knew the answer, and sniffed. “Good,” she said simply.

Alicent turned back to the fire and watched the embers die.

-----

The next day was… unfortunately typical for Sena’s family. Luke had been restless at the table while they broke fast, merely pushing food around his plate. Jace looked uneasy too, and even Princess Rhaenyra appeared to be hiding her discomfort by fussing over Luke. That had left Sena and Rhaena to force down what they could, avoiding the eye of their father. Every time Sena caught Prince Daemon looking at her, it was like a fresh shock of ice water down her spine.

When it came time to convene in the throne room, Sena stood dutifully by Rhaena, behind Princess Rhaenyra and her boys and tried not to send too many glances at the other half of the royal family. Ser Otto presided over the proceedings from the foot of the throne and Sena oft caught the Queen and the Princess staring at one another. Aegon was swaying a little on his feet and looked as though he hadn’t been to bed in days, and his wife kept a distance from him, sticking to the Queen’s side and sending Sena smiles when she could. Aemond stood tall between Aegon and Helaena, dutifully not paying Sena much mind at all with her father close by. 

Prince Daemon was standing still. He was unnerving when he was barely containing his emotions, pacing like a caged lion. But it was when he reached stillness that he was truly scary.

The proceedings were more or less exactly as shameful as she’d expected, Ser Vaemond being given a place in open court to spew his thinly veiled accusations and shame the young boy before her. Sena tightened her jaw with the effort of restraining herself. It was only when the heavy doors of the throne room swung inward that Sena was caught off guard.

It was the King. He made the heroic struggle up the length of the throne room and Sena watched with her heart in her throat. Even the Queen and her children seemed a little shocked at his haggard appearance. Her poor uncle. Suddenly, the way the Queen and her family had been acting made sense. They were bracing themselves for impact. Her poor uncle did not have long left. 

He made his way up the steps of the throne with the aid of his brother, and Sena was always shocked to see the warmth her father was capable of when he desired it so, placing the King’s crown upon his brow with all the deference and love of a little brother. 

And that was when things started to truly unravel.

The King passed down his firm judgement in favour of his grandson, just as Sena had wished he would, but it was not enough to stop the mummer’s show that was unfolding before her. Vaemond was screaming vile taunts - bastards this and whore that - and even though Sena watched her father move forward on silent feet and draw Dark Sister, she did not understand what was happening until Ser Vaemond’s head fell from his shoulders.

There was screaming and an audible thud as the head hit the floor. Sena’s hand flew out and gripped Rhaena by the arm. “He can keep his tongue,” Daemon said with acid wit as the offending appendage lolled from where it was still anchored to Ser Vaemond’s mandible.

Sena stared at her father with wide eyes. This was the man she was supposed to broker her marriage with?

She tried to catch Aemond’s eye, but he was too busy watching her father with something indiscernible on his face.

Later, Sena paced the cool stone floor of her guest room on stockinged feet. Her gown, a deep blue, swished around her ankles as her stomach tied itself in knots and she tried to figure out what to say. She wished she could say she hadn’t spoken to her father yet because she was waiting for him to calm down after all that had happened. However, the truth was that Sena was scared, and that had been her father calm. Prince Daemon was at his calmest when he had a plan of action and murderous intent. She had no idea how he might react to what she had to tell him.

“This is pathetic,” she hissed to herself, and slipped her feet into her satin shoes. “You’re a woman grown, practically an old maid.” She eyed her sword from where it leaned against the wall by the door and wondered for a second, but no, it would not do to bring a weapon to the negotiating table. Even if it would give her courage.

Every step down the hall towards Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra’s shared rooms was like a step closer to the gates of hell, and Sena’s stomach was roiling. She knew the Princess would be readying herself for their family dinner by now, so she would be able to get her father to speak with her privately in the solar. She tugged her sleeves down over her hands. How she wished she had her sword.

Her knock echoed on the door, and her father’s manservant let her in. “Lady Visenya,” he announced her to the room. The Princess smiled at her from her dressing table, where she and a maidservant were fixing her hair, and her father looked up from where he was reading letters at his desk.

“Sena,” he greeted her mildly.

Sena curtseyed first to the Princess, then to the Prince. “Father,” she greeted him back.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I-“ the words caught in her throat like cobwebs as soon as she tried to speak them. “I was hoping we could talk, father. In private.”

Prince Daemon arched a brow at her, but got up from his seat anyway. “We’ve got some time before supper. Come.”

Maybe it was a mistake to not do this in front of the Princess? Rhaenyra calmed her father’s worst moods and had always been a calming influence in their turbulent relationship. But that pricked Sena’s pride too. Rhaenyra was not her mother and should not have any say in who she wed. Truthfully, neither should the man who had only deigned to clothe and feed her about half of the time while she grew up, but there was nothing to be done about that. She was still a woman and not a crowned one. She couldn’t very well make her own decisions regarding her marriage anymore than she could sprout wings and fly away, as tempting as either idea might be right now.

The door of the solar banged shut behind them, and her father lounged lazily against the desk. Sena planted her feet firmly on the carpet before him, the heat of the fire crackling in the hearth causing a sweat to break out over her skin.

Daemon shrugged his shoulders. “Come on then, out with it.”

“I- I’ve been thinking,” Sena said, drawing a steadying breath and clasping her hands before her to keep from fidgeting. “I am the eldest of your daughters and still unmarried. With Baela and Rhaena being betrothed to our stepbrothers, I thought it might be time… to broach the subject of my own marriage.”

Daemon seemed surprised. She could tell he had been beginning to think she might be something of a lost cause on that front, as he never brought it up with her or pestered her with insulting suggestions anymore. “Truly? What a happy day, daughter,” he said, without much emotion in his voice. Then, “Who is the lucky lad to have caught your eye? Who will you be making my goodson?” And oh, he knew, of that there was no mystery.

Cold dread washed over Sena. But she would not turn back now. “Father…” she said, “it is time, high time I was wed to Prince Aemond.”

Her father laughed, actually laughed, as though it were some amusing jape. “And why would I allow that?”

Sena set her jaw. She had been expecting this, though, and she was ready. “Because I will not wed another,” she said, clasping her hands tightly behind her back, standing strong, projecting her voice like she had seen Princess Rhaenyra, Princess Rhaenys, the Queen do countless times. “You gave me my sword, father, and I shall use it on any man who would have me without my permission, be it a great lord or a stablehand. The only man I will wed, the only man I will have is Aemond.” 

Daemon smirked at her, his head tilted to the side. “You know, I have always been begrudgingly fond of you, my girl, despite your being a constant thorn in my side. You have the fire and courage in your veins of our house, and you’re a stubborn bitch, like your mother. That was always her most redeeming feature to me,” he said, and it caught Sena off guard. It was strange enough to hear him confess to being fond of her, let alone even mentioning her mother. And stranger still to hear him do it with something approaching a compliment. 

She opened her mouth, and stuttered for a second, in disbelief. “Does this- is that a yes?”

Daemon’s grin was more like a leer as he closed the space between them. “Oh my sweet girl, no. I would rather feed you to Caraxes than hand you and your dragon over to the Queen like a name day gift,” he said, cupping her cheek with a large, calloused hand.

The brief glimpse of hope she had felt was smothered and she repressed a shudder at his touch. “You misunderstand me,” she bit out, standing her ground. “I am not asking your permission. I will wed Prince Aemond."

Her stomach lurched as she saw that only made him angry, however. Daemon sneered at her and tightened his grip, grabbing her jaw between his thumb and fingers, forcing her to meet his eyes. “And you misunderstand me,” he said in a dark tone. She was trembling under his grip. “So long as I live and draw breath, that boy will not touch you.” 

Rage flared in Sena and she knocked his hand sharply away from her face in a move that seemed to shock the both of them. Outside the training yard, they never struck each other, but she was livid. Impossible visions of her and Aemond waking up abed together, husband and wife drifted further out of her grasp. “And what if he already has?” She snapped. She did not know what possessed her. Anger lit up every part of her, it had her not in her right mind. She knew that was a dangerous thing to insinuate, for her and for Aemond, but she could not bring herself to care, so hot was the fire burning inside of her.

Her father seemed to find it amusing, however, his lips drawing into a smirk that made her blood boil. “Prove it,” he said. He laid a hand on her belly, over her skirts. “Get yourself with child. Give me an excuse to wield Dark Sister and take off my nephew’s pretty little head.” He lowered himself, looming over her. “Even your beloved uncle could not save him once he had despoiled my daughter.” 

Sena heard the thud of Ser Vaemond’s disembodied head hitting the flagstones of the throne room again. She saw his dark lifeblood spilling out into a puddle behind her eyelids. “I’d like to see you try,” she bit out, her teeth gritted together, but even she could tell it came out weak.

Daemon laughed his high-pitched, malignant laugh. “You think your beloved Prince, a green boy of twenty who has never seen battle, would stand a chance against me?” Her innards twisted at the thought of it, Aemond meeting Daemon’s steel with his own. “Come now, Sena. I had hoped what everyone says about you wasn’t true. I had hoped there was more to you than that… but it seems you are just some pretty little fool, are you not?” He smoothed down her dark curls and she didn’t realise she was crying with rage until he wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. She wanted to tear her own skin off. “Come, my girl. Before supper is cold.”

He left her like that, standing in the middle of the floor and glaring at the spot where he had stood, salt water tracking down her cheeks. She wanted to scream. She wanted to lose control, break his belongings, go after him and cause a scene. But what would it do? What could it possibly accomplish, beyond making him even more resolved to deny her whatever happiness he could? It hadn’t been a shock to her, of course. But she had thought- she had thought once he saw how resolved on this she was, how she would not be budged, he would relent. But she had been the one to budge, not him, and it made her burn with shame. How could she face Aemond now?

She trailed behind the Princess and her father on the way to supper. Rhaenyra kept throwing worried glances over her shoulder at Sena, trying to ascertain why her husband was in such a sour mood, but Sena did not want a scene in the halls of the Red Keep, where all her family could see and hear. It had been degrading enough for her father to treat her like property in private, like livestock in his ownership until he could sell her off for a sufficient price. She would not let him do it before their entire family.

She heard steps to her right as she walked and turned to see Aemond alongside her, his hair smoothly combed and his fine clothing flattering his lean figure. Her stomach dropped. She was still wiping at her eyes, she was not ready for this. He could see in an instant that it was not good news, though.

“What did he say?” He murmured under his breath, his expression impassable.

“That he’d rather feed me to Caraxes than make me your wife,” Sena replied dully, willing herself not to cry.

Aemond gritted his teeth and the line of his shoulders hardened. “We don’t need his permission. My father will give his-”

“Your father is dying,” Sena reminded him. 

He threw up his hands. “A drunken septon, then.” Whatever it took, he was saying. It should have made her heart surge, to see him so impassioned about wedding her, but she knew it wasn’t enough.

“And when my father comes for your head?” She asked.

“Then I’ll kill him.”

Sena scoffed. “Of course,” she said coldly. “That’s the answer to everything in this Gods-damned family. We’d all rather draw our swords and fight to the death than have a fucking honest conversation.”

Aemond cast her a concerned glance, unused to seeing her so low. But they were reaching the King’s private dining room now, and Prince Daemon was standing at the door, watching them. Aemond left her side and went to push past her father, but Daemon caught him by the shoulder. “Careful, boy,” he said in an acrid tone. Aemond pulled free of his grasp and went inside. Sena gave her father a cold look and followed.

Dinner was about as disastrous as she would have expected, but for once it was not her father’s fault, or Princess Rhaenyra’s, or the Queen’s, or even Aegon’s. The King’s presence had them all speaking to each other with civility for the longest stretch of time in Sena’s memory, even if it was by baring his withered face and pleading with them to lay down their animosity for one night. But King Viserys’s middle son remained unmoved, watching the proceedings with a stillness that verged on eerie, his only movement the occasional tick of his jaw. Sena could not stop watching him from across the table, and knew her father was looking between the two of them with a sick sense of self-satisfaction. Rage coiled inside of her.

It was only when the King was removed to return to his bed that the mood truly started to sour. Sena ate what she could, but her stomach was churning with acid, everything tasted like ash and the servants were still bringing in more food, setting a whole roast pig down before Aemond.

To Sena’s right, Luke could not repress a snigger, eyeing his uncle across the table.

And she could see the young boy she had first fallen in love with, all those years ago in the Pit, red eyed and lonely, tormented by his brother and nephews. She watched the man he had grown into make his choice as the last threads of his restraint snapped.

Aemond’s fist crashed to the table, causing his empty plate to jump with a clatter. He raised himself to his feet, his chair giving a high-pitched shriek as it was forced back over the floor. Sena’s grip tightened around her dinner knife as Aemond raised his glass. “Final tribute,” his voice was commanding and powerful when he rose it above his usual rasp. “To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke and Joffrey."

Aegon, always quick to delight in someone other than himself being the troublemaker, joined his little brother in the toast. Jace and Helaena had stopped dancing, Ser Otto stared down into his lap with a sense of foreboding and the Queen was giving her son a pleading look. “Aemond,” Sena mouthed, but he was not looking at her, his eye locked on her little brother.

“Each of them handsome, wise…” Sena grip on her dinner knife had turned her knuckles white. To her right, Luke was still as a statue. “Strong.”

“Aemond,” the Queen began.

“Come! Let us drain our cups to these three strong boys.”

Sena’s heart lurched as the Queen’s face turned ashen and Aegon drank heartily. Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon had gone still. The smile vanished from Helaena’s face as Jace spoke up. “I dare you to say that again,” he spat.

Aemond had the gall to look affronted as he approached his nephew, wine in hand. “Why? It was only a complement. Do you not think yourself strong?”

All the seven hells seemed to break loose in that moment. Jace cracked Aemond across the jaw with his fist, and Sena lurched to her feet but Aemond barely flinched. “Jace!” Princess Rhaenyra snapped. Before Luke could make it halfway across the room to Aemond, Aegon was up and slamming him down into the dinner table.

“That is enough!” The Queen demanded, but the boys were as untameable as their dragons. Aemond turned his smirk back on his nephew and shoved him to the ground without spilling a drop of wine.

Sena did the only thing she could think of and rushed forward, pulling Aegon off of Luke. “Have you no shame? He’s just a boy,” she snapped.

Aegon turned on her and shook his head in disbelief. “My dear goodsister, when are you going to pick a side?” He hissed.

Sena blanched to hear herself addressed as Aegon’s sister-by-marriage before their entire family. She knew there were few secrets between the brothers, but by the Gods, Aegon had some nerve.

The guards were rushing forward to restrain Jace and Luke now, and Rhaena was even holding back Baela from taking a swing at the Prince. The Queen had flown to Aemond’s side, belligerent. “Why would you say such a thing before these people?’

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, mother,” Aemond said, addressing the Queen with impudence. He dragged his arm out of her grasp. “Mm, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.”

“Aemond-“ Sena snapped as Jace rounded on the Prince again.

She never thought she’d be glad to see her father wade in.

“Go to your quarters. All of you go, now,” Rhaenyra addressed her sons and step-daughters sharply, but even as the younger ones begrudgingly listened, Sena stayed put. She was not to be ordered around anymore and she would not have it from Rhaenyra in the same day as her father. She stayed where she was, glaring at Aemond.

Her father looked like he was sizing up his next meal.

The two Princes regarded each other, and Aemond held his ground. 

Sena looked between the two of them and felt a terrible dread.

Aemond was first to break the silence, humming to himself with a note of satisfaction and stalking from the room.

Sena shoved past her father even as he tried to stop her. She followed Aemond down the hall, hurrying to keep up with his long strides. “Aemond,” she hissed, and when he did not slow or look back, she snapped “Aemond!”

He swung around on her on the landing of one of the Red Keep’s staircases, their steps and voices echoing around them, and he was livid.

“What the fuck was that?” She snapped at him, drawing close.

“Me?” He asked, bewildered, towering over her. “What do you think you’re doing, Sena? They mock me, they mock our house with the stain of their bastardy, they take my eye, and yet you still defend them?”

She knew they must still be well within the earshot of the rest of the family, but it did not stop him. He remained fixed on her, all of his pent-up rage bubbling to the surface, and he glared at her unblinking. “Don’t make this about our childhood, you started that-“ she said.

“Because I won’t be laughed at at my own dinner table. Did you see the way your beloved brother mocked me?” He said. “Why are you so quick to jump to his aid and not mine?”

She shook her head in disbelief. “You don’t need my aid,” she said, taking his hand in hers in an attempt to placate him. “You’re a man grown, you can handle yourself, he’s just a boy and you humiliated him.”

“Oh, I humiliated him? How shocking of me,” he said icily. “I should go and apologise, he made such a good apology to me when he took out my eye.”

Gods, her heart throbbed in her chest. She knew, she knew she had no hope of ever understanding what it was like, how it had changed him and his path. But she so wished he could see that it did not make a single bit of difference to the people who loved him. “Aemond, there’s nothing wrong with you-“

“There is,” he snapped, pulling his hand from her grasp, and she realised it had been the totally wrong thing to say. “I am missing an eye, and your precious Luke took it. He disfigured me and his brother would steal my brother’s throne. Our family’s throne, Visenya.”

Not this, she wanted to beg him, do not start with this. “They are as much Targaryen as we are, Aemond,” she was losing her patience now, her voice rising. “I am half Royce, you are half Hightower, they are half Strong - what difference does it make?”

“They are bastards,” he ground out as she threw up her hands in frustration. “And their mother is a liar and a manipulator.”

Sena scoffed. “Like your brother is some bastion of virtue. Do not make me laugh, Aemond. He humiliates Helaena, terrorises the servants, brings shame on the entire family. He brought you to a whorehouse on your thirteenth name day-“ it slipped out, and Aemond went pale.

“Who told you that?” His jaw had gone slack. He looked far away. “I- it doesn’t matter. It didn’t mean anything, Sena, it was just- you are the only woman I’ve ever wanted.”

That was not the point, she thought. The point was that his brother hurt everyone around him. The point was that Aemond had been brought, young and vulnerable and innocent, to be taken advantage of for his brother’s sick and twisted vision of masculinity. “I’m not jealous, Aemond-“

Again, it was the completely wrong thing to say. She knew it as soon as she saw the flicker of rage in his eye.

“No, of course you’re not! Why would you be jealous, thinking about me fucking someone else?” He was furious, looming over her. “Everything in the world seems to matter more to you than I do. Your stepbrothers, your Princess, being a good daughter to your evil bastard of a father, following orders, doing what you’re told. You care more about them than you care about us, the people you grew up with! And for what? Do you truly think Rhaenyra gives a shit about getting you your birthright?”

All of the fury that had been roiling inside of her all day came to the surface in that instant. She laughed coldly. “You think this is about Runestone? You think I’m tearing out my heart and watching my family flay itself for Runestone? You’re standing in front of me questioning how much I love you, how much I have always loved you and you think I care about fucking Runestone!”

“What is it about, Sena? I must admit, I don’t even remember anymore!”

“This is about you hurting the people I care about and still claiming you love me, Aemond.”

He shook his head. “What do you want from a husband, Sena? A man who lets mockery and slights wash over him, who is too weak to defend himself?”

“I want a man who is strong enough to know not every prick at his pride needs answering with force!” She hurled back at him, hating how her eyes swam with unshed tears. It was shameful, to let him reduce her to such a state.

“Pride?” He smirked at her in that menacing way he usually reserved for others. Everyone but her. “You talk of pride and defending oneself, yet I never see you practicing what you preach. How long are you going to cower in your father’s shadow, using him as an excuse for your own inaction and cravenness? The girl who mounted Grey Ghost, the girl I fell in love with - she wouldn’t need her father’s leave to do fucking anything. You’re a coward, Sena.”

Sena went still, in shock at the harshness of his words. Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins. Gods, what had they come to? What was this family, this kingdom turning them in to? She held her hand over her mouth to stop Aemond seeing the way her lip wobbled. He was watching her, and the rage seemed to be dissipating from his features as he heard his own words in his ears.

Aemond’s eye darted over the blank expression on Sena’s face. His own countenance went pale. “I think it better if we do not say anymore tonight,” he said stiffly.

Sena looked past him, tried to still the trembling in her hands. “I think so too.”

She turned to leave him, but stopped when she saw the Queen standing there, staring at her son with wide eyes. Aemond seemed to notice her for the first time too. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Deep shame rolled over Sena.

“They are leaving,” Queen Alicent breathed. “After your… outburst, Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon are leaving immediately.”

Sena turned back to the Prince. His gaze flicked back to hers. She did not know what to say.

“Sena,” he said, and the regret was clear on his face. He looked like there was a million things he wished to say but he did not know how to even begin to put words to them. “Write me when you get back, so I know you are safe,” he muttered, tone heavy with shame. “Please.”

Sena did not reply, did not even look at him again. She turned, made her way past the Queen without meeting her eye for the fear she might collapse under the shame of what Alicent had just witnessed.

She did not know how long Aemond stood there, watching her retreat. She only knew that by the time she was back in her rooms and Sophey was helping her pack, she felt entirely numb.

The letters to and from Aemond never came, however, as not long after their ship had left its berth in the harbour, the King slipped away in his sleep.

The Targaryens on Dragonstone did not know that for some days, though. It was only when Sena, Baela, Jace and Luke had to rush out of the way in the training yard as Meleys descended that they realised something was dreadfully wrong.

This is it, Sena thought numbly as she listened to the news in the great hall. The King was dead, and Queen Alicent had crowned Aegon in his place before all of King’s Landing. He was not mentioned, but Sena knew in her bones that Aemond had stood there in the Dragonpit and watched it happen. This was what they had all been dreading for years.

The Princess - no, the Queen - went into labour prematurely, and Sena wished she could have been there for her while she bled and screamed. She wished she could have marched down to the hall that her father was turning into his war room and demand he go be with his wife so she was not alone in this. But she did not. She retreated to the yard, whacking away at a training dummy until she could no longer lift her sword.

Maybe Aemond was right. Maybe she was a coward.

The baby had been a girl. The Queen carried her tiny, broken body to the funeral pyre alone.

As her sister burned and her Queen was crowned, Sena bent her knee.

taglist (dm/ask/reply to be added): @stargaryenx @trap-house-homiecide

[fantomcomics]

What’s Out This Week? 6/14

Have you seen our LIMITED EDITION Fantom shirts yet??

Alora: Witch Princess GN -  Kayden Phoenix & Phineas Conrad

Alora is one of the five Possibles, a princess that may become the true princess of Citadel. These Possibles were found, trained in their magical energies, and took classes together in the palace; all in preparation for the Majo Majo Celebration. The Possibles completes tests in a magical carnival to see who the one true princess is.

At 30, I Realized I Had No Gender GN -  Shou Arai

At age 30, Shou Arai came to a realization; they had no gender. Now they were faced with a question they'd never really considered: how to age in a society where everything is so strongly segregated between two genders? This autobiographical manga explores Japanese culture surrounding gender, transgender issues, and the day to day obstacles faced by gender minorities and members of the LGBTQIA+ community with a lighthearted, comedic attitude.  

Bettie Page #1 -  Mirka Andolfo, Luca Blengino, Elisa Ferrari & Joseph Michael Linsner

It's la dolce vita for Bettie! Beautiful Bettie has been cast as the lead of a film shooting in Rome, but before she can experience the sights and sounds of Italy, shady-looking thugs try to kidnap her! Why? Well, Bettie happens to be the spitting image of another woman...a woman who's in BIG trouble with trouble-making types! Can Bettie negotiate her way through a madcap adventure of mistaken identity and star-crossed love, Italian-style?

Dead By Daylight #1 (of 4) - Nadia Shammas, Dilon Snook & Ivan Tao

PREQUEL COMIC BASED ON THE BEST-SELLING HORROR GAME, DEAD BY DAYLIGHT! When the rebellious FRANK crashes into the lives of JULIE, JOEY and SUSIE, together they'll unleash bloody chaos onto the sleepy, dead-end town of Ormond. Witness the terrifying origins of THE LEGION.

Death Drop: Drag Assassin #1 -  David Hazan & Alex Moore

Death Drop, a hitman turned drag queen, enters a race against time to find her missing drag sister as a mysterious rash of killings and disappearances spreads across the city. With the specter of her former mentor haunting her every step, Death Drop must decide how far she is willing to be pulled back into a life of violence in order to protect her community in this supernatural queer noir.

The Faint Of Heart GN -  Kerilynn Wilson

Not that long ago, the Scientist discovered that all sadness, anxiety, and anger disappeared when you removed your heart. And that's all it took. Soon enough, the hospital had lines out the door. June is an exceptional high schooler, though not in the way you'd expect. She is the only one in town who still has her heart. When she looks at her heartless family and friends, she knows she can't become one of them. But the pressure, loneliness, and heartache are mounting, and it's becoming harder and harder to be the only one with a heart. And then June comes across an abandoned heart in a jar. The heart in the jar intrigues her, it baffles her, and it brings her hope. June wonders if the heart can be used to revitalize her sister. But the heart also brings her Max, a classmate with a secret of his own: though he had his heart removed, he is starting to feel again-and it hurts. June will have to choose between a boy she barely knows-a boy who's in pain-and the sister she loves dearly-who feels nothing. But will her own heart rip in two in the process?

Family Style: Memories Of An American From Vietnam GN -  Thien Pham

Originally posted on Instagram, this young adult graphic novel details the author's childhood immigration to America with his family, through the lens of particularly meaningful food and meals. Thien's first memory isn't a sight or a sound. It's the sweetness of watermelon and the saltiness of fish. It's the taste of the foods he ate while adrift at sea as his family fled Vietnam. After the Pham family arrives at a refugee camp in Thailand, they struggle to survive. Things don't get much easier once they resettle in California. And through each chapter of their lives, food takes on a new meaning. Behind every cut of steak and inside every croissant lies a story. And for Thien Pham, that story is about a search - for belonging, for happiness, for the American dream!

Frank Frazetta’s Mothman #1 (of 5) - Tim Hedrick, Luis Guaragna & Andrea Mutti

From 1966 to 1967 in Point Pleasant, West Virginia, several witnesses reported seeing a man-sized, winged creature with glowing red eyes. Circa 1980, Frank Frazetta painted his iconic work "Mothman." Now you will learn the truth-and it's weird. Emmy nominee Tim Hedrick (Avatar: The Last Airbender) and artist Andrea Mutti (British Paranormal Society) bring you the next expansion of the FrazettaVerse!

Gnome & Rat GN -  Lauren Stohler

Gnome and Rat are best friends who live together in a charming forest. Rat enjoys drinking tea and finishing crossword puzzles. And Gnome... well, Gnome likes to polish his pointy red hat and eat delicious sausages. Join these funny friends on their various adventures, whether it's celebrating Hat Day, perfecting magic tricks, or tracking down a new signature hat for Gnome. Whatever their antic, these two know exactly how to have a good time: with each other.

Haunt You Til The End #1 -  Ryan Cady & Andrea Mutti

In a not-so-far future rife with climate disasters and worldwide instability, an eccentric billionaire and his crew-a disgraced journalist, a radical doctor, a TV demonologist, and a squad of hard-bitten military contractors-set out to prove the existence of life after death. But even if their mission is a success, the truth behind the "most haunted place on earth" may not be the comforting revelation the world is hoping for.

Intertwined: The Last Jewish Daughter Of Kaifeng #1 -  Fabrice Sapolsky,  Fei Chen, Ho Seng Hui & Fred Pham Chuong

In time for Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month as well as Jewish American Heritage Month, fan-favorite series INTERTWINED is back with a 64 page special dedicated to the only Asian Jewish character in comics: the new Spirit of Water! After the events of the original INTERTWINED series, Leah Ai Tian's life has changed drastically. She had been dragged in Juan Jin's adventures with the Spirits of WuXing against her will and Lady Xia passed on the mantle of Champion of the Water Element to her right before she was murdered. Now, Leah fights along the Spirits of the Earth, Wood, Fire and Metal to preserve the balance of the universe while fully living her Jewish faith. But her past has come back to haunt her. Why did she really leave Kaifeng and China? And what do Mob Lord Yuk-Long wants so much that he sent his goons all the way to Chinatown New York to find her?

INTERTWINED: THE LAST JEWISH DAUGHTER OF KAIFENG is a fast paced action adventure tale dealing with deep real life issues: the meaning of faith in a country that, at that time, doesn't recognize Judaism as a religion, the condition of women in the early 1970s and freedom of choice.

Klik Klik BOOM #1 -  Doug Wagner, Douglas Dabbs & Matt Wilson

Meet Sprout, a mute assassin who communicates exclusively through polaroid pictures. Being raised by her doomsday-prepping grandfather in the rolling hills of Idaho, Sprout has never been around other people, watched TV, or seen clothes outside of Army fatigues. Now she's headed to the big lights of New York City to avenge her grandfather's murder, but will the city's mesmerizing glitz and glam help her succeed-or be the death of her?

Legends Of The Pierced Veil: Izuna GN -  Saverio Tenuta & Carita Lupattelli

Since the dawn of time, the Izuna wolves have been entrusted as guardians against Japan's evil spirits, protecting the veil that keeps the spirit world of the Kami and the human world separate. One day, a dark force known as the Noggo appears, spreading infection throughout the spiritual plane. As the Izuna battle against the Noggo's invasion of their land, an Izuna cub is born in the form of a young human girl. Can the Izuna protect the Veil from the threat that could come from within?

Lizard Prince & Other South American Stories GN  -  Kate Ashwin & Kel McDonald

Cursed princes, doomsday prophecies, and a fateful nighttime visit from a legendary sorcerer-these are just a few of the ancient tales whispered in the forests of South America, retold in this beautifully drawn comics treasury! This anthology series features modern takes on folklore from across the continent, for a wide-ranging fireside collection of thrills and spooky chills. Featuring the work of Shadia Amin, Coni Yovaniniz, Verónica Alvarado, and more!

The Love Report GN -  Beka & Maya

BFFs Grace and Lola talk about everything related to romance-and have lots of questions: What about the mysterious allure of the popular girl at school? And the rebellious goth with the reputation? And boys. They don't quite understand what makes some school romances soar to legendary heights, while other flirtations fizzle. Lola has an idea-they'll observe, study, and analyze all the couples at their Junior High-and compile their findings as The Love Report. Surprises await them, and force them to learn to see beyond appearances in this fast-paced series opener. They'll also discover secrets between themselves.

LSBN GN -  Emma Jayne

A lesbian mech rom-com graphic novel by Ignatz and Prism Award-winning cartoonist Emma Jayne! After many grueling years of defending against colossal, violent creatures, the machine that will turn the conflict in humanity's favor is nearing completion... until the war unexpectedly comes to a sudden, peaceful resolution. The world rejoices. However, two women fall into crisis as their life's work becomes obsolete. Commander Sugimoto and her lead engineer Mischa Polyakov have spent nearly every waking moment together since the project's inception, but without the pretense of their careers and world-ending calamity, do they have a reason to stay in one another's lives?

MTG Planeswalkers: Noble #1 -  Stephanie Williams, Daniel Warren, Dave Rapoza, Alberto Locatelli, Lea Caballero, Arianna Consonni, Raúl Angulo & Jahnoy Lindsay

Planeswalkers Karn and Ral Zarek team up to navigate the lonely and often treacherous space between flesh and machine...Meanwhile, a romantic outing featuring Jace and Vraska? The circumstances are less than ideal, however, and even perilous!

Between fan-favorite pairings and unexpected, exciting alliances, the stellar creative team of Stephanie Williams (Nubia: Queen of the Amazons), Daniel Warren and Dave Rapoza (Steve Lichman), Alberto Locatelli, Lea Caballero, Arianna Consonni, and Raúl Angulo take readers to unforgettable realms in the Magic Multiverse!

Mexica: Aztec Princess GN  -  Kayden Phoenix & Fernanda Lozada 

Mexica's princess initiation has begun. She's given three riddles and ventures out of Aztlán with her pet ocelot, Elote, to find the prizes. Unbeknownst to her, she fights a neighboring tribe thinking they're apart of the princess initiation. Mexica unknowingly saving the kingdom and ultimately returning as Aztlán's crowned princess.

Mighty Marvel Team-Up Spider-Man: Animals Assemble! GN - Mike Maihack

When the Avengers are assembled to contain a super threat in New York City, Spider-Man is given the most important job of all: to make sure all the Avengers' super pets are safe! Spider-Man wants in on the bad guy fighting action, but with great power comes great pet sitting. Featuring fan favorite Avengers like Captain America, Captain Marvel, and Black Panther, this fun and funny original graphic novel sees the mighty web-slinger teaming up with the most unlikely of heroes to save the day!  

My Dear Curse-Casting Vampiress GN Vol 1 -  Chisaki Kanai

The world is full of vampires. Supernatural creatures who drain the blood from humans without mercy-fighting such beings is the foundation of Isuzu Osaka's life. But humanity is losing the war, and so desperate times call for desperate measures...And so, Isuzu sets out to strike a deal with a powerful vampiress whose beauty drives all who gaze upon her insane in the hopes of protecting his friends...

Night Fever GN -  Ed Brubaker, Sean Phillips & Jacob Phillips 

Who are you, really? Are you the things you do, or are you the person inside your mind? In Europe on a business trip, Jonathan Webb can't sleep. Instead, he finds himself wandering the night in a strange foreign city with his new friend, the mysterious and violent Rainer, as his guide. Rainer shows Jonathan the hidden world of the night, a world without rules or limits. But when the fun turns dangerous, Jonathan may find himself trapped in the dark-the question is, what will he do to get home? NIGHT FEVER is a pulse-pounding Jekyll-and-Hyde noir thriller about a man facing the darkness inside himself.

Nuking Alaska GN -  Peter Dunlap-Shohl

Nuking Alaska is an unnervingly funny tale of life in Alaska during the tensest times of the Cold War. It recounts the surprising and tragicomic details of the nuclear threats faced by Alaskans, including Project Chariot in the late 1950s and early 60s, the near-nuclear disaster caused by the Great Alaskan Earthquake of 1964, and the 1971 test of a nuclear warhead on the island of Amchitka. Alaskan resident Peter Dunlap-Shohl shares the terrible consequences that these events and others had for humans and animals alike, all in the service of "atoms for peace."

Parallel TP -  Matthias Lehmann

Karl Kling's story is one of revelations, and these he has addressed in a letter to his daughter, Hella, who had disowned Karl many years ago. Karl's letter is a cri de coeur from a father to a daughter he never really got to know, and he comes clean to her about his failed marriages, his fractured family relations--and his love for men.

Taking place between the end of World War II and the 1980s, Parallel chronicles Karl's efforts to comply with social norms in order to keep his sexuality a secret. It also paints a picture of a life torn between conformity and rebellion, and the cruel realities of twentieth-century German society, where homosexuality was proscribed and punishable until 1994. Matthias Lehmann poignantly depicts the story of a decades-long yearning to live an open and free life, and the price Karl and those he loves must pay for it. It is also a story of finding the courage to finally tell the truth no matter the obstacles...or the cost.

Prophecy Complete Edition GN -  Ran Kuze

The mind twisting thriller series that was adapted into a life action film, is now in a new complete omnibus format! A newspaper-masked vigilante who broadcasts his acts of vengeance before committing them. A newly-formed police division tackling the new frontier of internet-based crime. As the sun rises on the Era of Information, can a group of people who found themselves at the bottom of the food chain rattle society through the web and avenge a fallen friend?

Barbaric: Queen Of Swords #1 -  Michael Moreci, Corin Howell & K.J. Diaz

Spinning out of the pages of BARBARIC comes an all-new, standalone, rip-roaring fantasy adventure, filled with mayhem, humor, and a bloodthirsty weapon that just won't stop talking! Serra is a witch with a checkered past; Ka is an assassin with an agenda all her own, and Deadheart is a barbarian who wants to bash everyone in her path. They'll have to unite their unique skills to track down a powerful foe who's tied their lives together. Get ready to meet your new favorite instrument of death-the evil Ga'Bar, whose spirit is now trapped in Deadheart's sword!

Discover the origin of the dark magic that turned Soren into the tattooed witch she is today, in this totally new story, the perfect place to step into the world of BARBARIC for the first time!

Reggie: Kid Penguin GN -  Jen de Oliveira

Fans of Babymouse and Owly will love this early graphic novel series about the everyday adventures and high jinks of Reginald "Reggie" Guinn, a little kid penguin with a big personality! Reggie is just like any other kid: always looking for fun and adventure! But Reggie's curious, playful side sometimes gets him into trouble. Like when he tries to give himself a haircut before picture day...and ends up gluing his feathers back on his head! Or when he sneaks a mouthful of cookie dough from the kitchen... then feels the sun baking cookies in his tummy! Or when his babysitter puts him on a kid leash while they walk to the park... and he rebels by acting like a dog!

Santa Latina Superhero GN -  Kayden Phoenix & Eva Cabrera 

Santa lives in Wexo, a made-up bordertown in Texas. With elections coming up, the tension rises as the conservative frontrunner, Illena Chavez-Estevez, AKA ICE, wants to start a race war in the town. On the Domino side, we have La Politica running. Comadre, the mentor and veteran, ends up recruiting Santa for La Politica's campaign and as the racial tensions rise in the town, Santa learns what it means to be patriotic while harnessing her Mom's military past. When civilians start getting stolen, Santa finds her voice and strength to raid the detention camps and take down ICE.

Spider-Man: Fake Red GN -  Yusuke Osawa

Yu's new high school is kind of awful. He's failing his classes and striking out socially. Everything changes when he finds one of Spider-Man's costumes abandoned in an alleyway. At first, it's fun to put on the costume and play hero, but when powerful enemies start to appear, Yu quickly realizes he's out of his element. Still, with Spider-Man nowhere to be found, the city needs someone to save it...

The Prophet GN -  A. David Lewis, Kahlil Gibran & Justin Renteria

First published in 1923, Khalil Gibran's The Prophet is unquestionably the most popular work of free verse published in the English language during the 20th century. The slender book tells the story of exiled Almustafa, leaving his refugee home of Orphalese after twelve years of banishment. Before he goes, however, he has words of wisdom for the people who took him in. This graphic adaptation features a faithful rendering of the original text with a flashback sequence that explains the prehistory of Almustafa and an afterword by A. David Lewis.

This Is Not My Story HC -  Ryan Uytdewilligen & David Huyck

The brave captain of a tiny spaceship is surrounded by flying saucers. Though the situation appears dire, he knows just what to do... um, wait! The brave captain-ahem, boy-tells the author to stop the action: He's got it all wrong. This is not the boy's story. He belongs in a different story. The author considers this. Then he begins again, with a story about Cattle King Carl, the quickest cattle wrangler in the West... No! Still not the boy's story? Hmm. Is he a dragon-slaying knight? No! A vampire's next victim? No! A boy going on a date? No! Will the author ever come up with the right story?

Twisted Tales: Part Of Your World GN -  Stephanie Kate Strohm, Liz Braswell, Kelly Matthews & Nichole Matthews

Discover a new side of The Little Mermaid in this darkly romantic reimagining of the classic Disney film! It's been five years since the infamous sea witch defeated the little mermaid... and took King Triton's life in the process. Ariel is now the voiceless queen of Atlantica, while Ursula runs Prince Eric's kingdom on land. But when Ariel discovers that her father might still be alive, she finds herself returning to a world-and a prince-she never imagined she would see again. Ursula has been making the most of her role as princess: With the kingdom-and Prince Eric-under her spell, the sea witch has been plotting, scheming, and waging war. And after the disguised sea witch catches wind that Ariel has resurfaced, her thirst for power threatens both land and sea. It's up to Ariel to overthrow the murderous villain before Ursula can destroy her home, her prince, and the world she once longed to be a part of.

Void Rivals #1 -  Robert Kirkman, Lorenzo De Felici & Matheus Lopes 

War rages around the Sacred Ring, where the last remnants of two worlds have collapsed around a black hole in a never-ending war.  However, when pilot Darak and his rival Solila both crash on a desolate planet, these two enemies must find a way to escape together. But are they alone on this strange planet? And what dark forces await that threaten the entire universe? 

Why I Adopted My Husband GN -  Yuta Yagi

As a gay couple living in Japan (where gay marriage is not yet legal), Yuta and Kyota have found a unique loophole in order to live together and support one another financially, legally and medically; Kyota adopted Yuta. This nonfiction manga depicts how they met, living together, discussions with their parents, and their future anxieties and determination as they strive for independence and equal rights under Japanese law.

Xino #1 -  Chris Condon, Nick Cagnetti & Matt Lesniewski

Because the future is getting weirder everyday, we give you XINO #001-the first of three OVERSIZED, 40-PAGE intra-ocular lozenges of subversive, surrealist science-fiction to cure your awful awareness of it all. Try not to worry-the insertion process will be guided by the megawatt brilliance of Oni's brightest talents (past, present, and future) as they slowly tune your hopes, dreams, desires, paranoia, alienation, anxiety, and adrenaline to produce the desired results. In our first exploratory outing: Rising stars Melissa Flores (The Dead Lucky, Mighty Morphin Power Rangers) & Daniel Irizarri (Judge Dredd) surgically activate the hidden dimensions of the human senses; cult phenoms Christopher Condon (That Texas Blood) and Nick Cagnetti (Pink Lemonade) debut the world's first intravenous video game system; Underground radicals Jordan Thomas (Weird Work) and Shaky Kane (Bulletproof Coffin) surveil the suburbs for signs of covert infiltration, and master cartoonist and foundational Oni creator Phil Hester (Gotham City: Year One, The Coffin) returns to the fold to leave his deepest mark yet!

Whatcha picking up this week, Fantom Fam?

[1tsjusty0u]

ackshually. how does knighthood work. is link's whole journey into knighthood same as canon or are there any changes? how did he feel about it

ALSO MILITARY TRAINING GROUNDS

knighthood….

alright so. this will be kind of uh. silly? but to me knighthood/Being A Knight is like. School. except instead of paperwork its training. get up at 5 am with 4 hours of sleep because 7-8 hours of your day was work with a 30 minute lunch break and either legally or socially your expected to/Have to go there and youre treated lesser than the instructor and can be punished for reasonable things and have to jump through hoops/use fae trickery to have sick days or not go in but still get like. the required credits/required training thingies due to broken bones or Really Bad sickness. just sucks ass. itd probably get more bearable the more ranks you go up, and the akkala citadel is probably the best possible place for knights to be honestly. i can imagine rooms being there and also im pretty sure the fort is for like. ships and stuff. so how much work actually goes on there is debatable. though im pretty sure theres a map of it in age of calamity i! have not played it nor emulated it yet </3 so i cant say how accurate this is. also im having guards only really be at like. castle town/posts like the east post ruins not hateno or lurelin. maybe guard the entrances as time goes on/if danger grows/link simply books it but Thats It. knights as well they only really follow the princess/do things around royal hylian buildings. its probably weird to specify but. yeag

i think it is? for canon he gets the mastersword at 13 and from zeldas diary hes only appointed as her knight like. recently/at 16. before then he was affiliated with it due to his father (miphas diary?). so probably. for wreath i dont think he ever actually becomes a knight/is in the royal army until 13 (which if he was for forced into it i think he Wouldnt be happy about it initially/his dad scared him by telling him about it.) so up until that point his dad basically just Visited from time to time and he got to hang out and do sword things which he didnt really think about besides “YEAAAAH SWORD FIGHTINF :D” until hes actually in the army. when he Is in the military if he didnt hate it before he does now!! if he could quit with no repercussions he would the second he could, but he views it as ‘theres no other options for me + my futures shit and fucked on if i dont do this/leave illegally’ so. yeah! and his dad really does Not help at all. how military-y any of this actually is is very debatable, and truthfully i could probably make this more accurate (my. sighs. my brother joined the actual military because free healthcare. hes not in like. the fighting department but hes still trained for that. the first weeks were at some fort and it was Hell for him. like he had to sit in close to genuine freezing weather with no actual cold gear besides his uniform and his orders kept getting mixed up constantly??? different sargents all said different things and gave them different orders. like once he got past that point/fort my dad joked that he probably felt like nothing could be worse than that. so theoretically i could make it like that for link. will i is the question. sorry for the . not infodump but personal dump).

the training grounds!!! i personally think thats how he got into the lost woods but the actual amount of times hes been there is sparse (until hes knighted). he probably viewed it as a playground as first but when he has to do actual training there he would despise it so badly. but this is where drills and such happen and i think itd be sectioned off (because if i recall correctly theres like. terraces? of mud? like theres different sections of mud and buildings) for different drills. knights probably go there daily while guards Dont. i think itd just pain your muscles. also the mud was probably always there and not after the calamity. i dont think thered be any monsters in there? just because it would cause collateral not because the royal family/army is against putting up soldiers and monsters against each other. otherwise nnot much to say? link would get muscle cramps constantly probably he does Not know any stretches. but yeag. i like how gaffen is born in rauru settlement and while im not doing that for wreath link i Do like the idea of rauru settlement being connected to the military/military training grounds. itd probably be where knights stay at first maybe? or it could be be unrelated which would be kind of funny considering noise complaint possibilities. trying to sleep but these stupid knights keep clashing their stupid swords

[dutifulsilence]

ooc ; I keep saying I'd write extra about Greis, Link's BFF growing up. I'm just lazy and he's a part-time muse. Here's a bit of a run-down since Greis is fairly important to Link's past.

Greis is one year older than Link. They were 5 and 4 respectively when Greis was brought to Hateno. Like Link, his father was a knight - his mother a Gerudo.

Greis looks much more like his mother than his father - he has a fair few typical Gerudo traits; stronger physique, red hair, darker skin. His mother rejected him and left him with his father. Greis knows nothing about her, not even her name.

Link and Greis were inseparable as kids, sharing the same dream of being knights like their fathers. Though Greis was always bigger and stronger, Link easily kept up with him. The two of them studied and trained together and often spoke of heading to the training grounds together.

Link would leave first, going with his father to train in different places in Hyrule. While Link was gone, Greis left Hateno to take on his own training - mainly on Death Mountain before venturing into the Gerudo desert, thinking he might find his mother.

Greis did find her, but she continued to reject him. She would not be the one to take the fall if he turned out to be the reincarnation of Ganondorf (fun fact, he is not - he is, however, a descendant of Groose).

Greis and Link reunited when they both turned up in Castle Town, ready to sign up for the royal guard training. Their experiences had changed them, but they were still best friends and ended up bunking together in the barracks.

Greis was always the more outgoing one of them. He would get Link into a fair few shenanigans - gambling with the other boys training as knights, underage drinking, sneaking out of the training grounds to hang out in town.

It's really not that Greis is a bad influence on Link - he just has a very different personality that Link always envied.

Greis was Link's first kiss, first love, and the one to take Link's virginity. They mostly kept their relationship on the down-low, keeping it hidden. Greis never mentioned his feelings to Link, so Link never knew if Greis loved him or not.

After Link became the Princess' guard and pulled the Master Sword, Greis and Link grew distant - Greis stayed in the barracks while Link was stationed at the castle.

Greis would go on to be stationed at the Akkala Citadel, a squad leader. He lost contact with Link, but heard much about his friend's promotion to Hylian Champion.

When the Calamity struck, Greis assured his squad that Link and the Champions would hold out. He had faith in Link and encouraged the others to keep faith. They fought long and brave against the Guardians' assault on the citadel.

Greis died in the citadel, taken out by laser fire. His spirit lingered there until 100 years later, when he saw Link activate the Sheikah Tower. Seeing Link still fighting would give him enough ease of mind to move on.

[martinaalexandra]

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 day, and it was quite hot... Martina decided it was time for getting some sun after Eli requested her to see the sun. Her outfit covers her flesh except for her hands on her face but she didn't want to wear them today...  She went to take a look at her options, not having much to wear, the best dresses were saved for most special occasions, and she didn't think she like she needs to wear them. And some of her dresses had to be sold to afford her art material.

Taking a look at her the money she got to herself... Pathetic. It was almost nothing. Either way, she called her pet swan Juliette (Romeo), and it followed her to the gardens, two guards were right behind her. Her brother fired the servants, to hire more guards (it wasn't like she was having servants in a while, and after the death of the princess, everyone is worried about security). Once she found a perfect spot, she took off her dress, removing the heavy layers, and staying with a simple thin dress, that has a neckline, her hair was loose, and she sat on top of her own dress, hiked up her dress, unhooking her hold up stockings, exposing her legs to get more sun, despite her skin be so pale that she seems almost a ghost. Her pet swan was beside her.

Martina turned her head to her pet swan.  ❛ I don’t like anyone better than you, it’s true. I’d crawl a mile in a desolate place with the snakes, just for you. Oh, I'm an animal, hand me a Tramadol, gimme the juice. You are my citadel, you are my wishing well, my baby blue...❜ She began singing beautifully, surprisingly the Italian princess has a good singing voice and could be a singer. Her pale hand went to the head of her swan, petting its furs, and held his beak, which made its noise, making her giggle at its reaction. ❛ I used to like liquor to get me inspired. But you look so beautiful, my new supplier! I used to like smoking to stop all the thinking, but I found a different buzz... ❜ She let go of the beak of her pet swan and lay on the grass making a crown with flowers, singing sweetly to herself, despite having the guards near her, but they were giving her space so she would feel lonely.

@miss-falk​  

[thatringboy]

Okay okay Prince Red Velvet AU but but BUT it’s also in the same AU that dark choco gets taken back by his father afyer the events of chapter 14, what happens during that reunion

You funky little Anon I love you

Red Velvet’s official “coronation” was a private event, but the news that Pure Vanilla Cookie now had a son was quickly spreading across the land

After living in the wilderness for some time, Dark Choco returned to the Dark Cacao kingdom with a whole prepared speech begging to just be let back in as a servant or a soldier

Hollyberry was visiting and strong armed Dark Cacao into having an actual conversation with his son

Dark Choco is on probation, seeing as he served his banishment and was making deliberate attempts to be a better cookie

He’ll preform his duties as Prince, but Carmel Arrow Cookie has been assigned as his handler and will be closely monitoring his behaviors

He’s just happy to be home

The news that Pure Vanilla adopted a son reaches the Citadel and Dark Cacao is in shock

“Do we all have sons now???”

The Ancients decide that it’s be fun for the heirs of the three kingdoms to meet

Hollyberry arrived first with Princess Cookie and Knight Cookie

Princess Cookie instantly recognized Red Velvet as Hellhound of B.A.D. 4 and proceeded to lose her mind

Knight got a little jealous of the attention she gave Red Velvet, poor guy

Red Velvet and Princess are now Best Friends, Red Velvet has no choice in this.

Dark Cacao and Co. arrive next and it’s…

It’s just awkward

Dark Choco and Red Velvet stare at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time before Hollyberry loudly asks if anyone wants some juice

Somehow the Ancients leave the three of them alone in the library and it just gets really awkward again

“You went back to your father? How has that been?” Red Velvet asked

“Good, good…” Dark Choco trailed off. “I’m on probation with the First Watcher. That’s been alright.”

Princess Cookie somehow gets them to start talking absolutely nasty mad shit about the other Cookies of Darkness

“Can you believe that Pomegranate Cookie called me a twink behind my back?! I’m clearly a twunk, look at my abs!” - Red Velvet

Dark Choco and Princess nodded very attentively while staring at Red Velvet’s abs

Knight Cookie just stood to the side in awe and horror of how easily Princess Cookie reduced two of the most dangerous cookies in all of Earthbread into gossiping schoolcookies who referred to the literally overthrowing of kingdoms and destroying of lives as just a job they hated

He is taking notes

Dark Choco is very proud of Red Velvet for finding a home for himself since he knew firsthand how hard it was to leave behind the one who was supposed to care for you

Because nothing in the Cookie Run universe is ever too serious, this reunion isn’t either and by the end of the visit, they’re all filled with berry juice and singing karaoke from B.A.D. 4’s album while Strawberry Crepe wishes they had hands to cover their ears

Oh and they play Kiss, Marry, Crumble with several famous cookies and somehow they all managed to select to crumble Clotted Cream Cookie, weird

The more asks I get about this AU the more I want to write it ugh y’all I can’t take it I have so many projects I’m already working onnnnnnn

[marysblo0d]

I am always team Rhaenyra on the throne and Alicent on her lap, but hey, that’s what AO3 is for

Thought of the best AU:

Alicent immediately tells Rhaenyra that Otto is trying to pimp her out to Viserys.

They hatch a plan for Alicent to publicly declare she’s taking her vows to become a Septa.

Honestly think this is what Alicent always wanted because she’s very religious.

Otto can’t say anything because this is a respectable profession for a noblewoman to take and if he objects then he’s openly expressing anger at the Seven and Citadel which is not a good look for House Hightower.

Laenor runs away to the free cities with Joffrey Lonmouth thus allowing Laena to become the heir to Driftmark this also means Daemon can’t force her to live in Pentos.

Laena does marry Daemon but after the twins are born she feeds him to Vhagar because she’s genuinely sick of him. You go girl!

Rhaenyra marries Harwin so now no one can accuse her sons of being bastards.

Alicent is the boys Septa.

They have polyamorous relationship with Septa Alicent but it’s solely Rhaenyra/Harwin and Rhaenyra/Alicent.

They also have a polyamorous relationship with Laena (just to follow book canon) this time however it’s all three together so Rhaenyra/Harwin/Laena.

Otto realises how much more influence his daughter exerts as the Crown Princess’ “companion” so tries to weasel his way in through her, it doesn’t work. One time it got so bad Rhaenyra had to threaten to send him to the Wall. Otto is left sulking in Oldtown complaining to anyone who’ll listen that he was a much better Hand than Lyonel Strong.

Rhaenyra and Laena betroth their kids to each other but now Rhaena is the next Lady of Driftmark whilst Luke will be her consort.

Jace and Baela will be King & Queen, Rhaena and Luke will sit on the Driftmark throne, and Joffrey is heir to Harrenhall.

I love my AU where asoiaf was written as a fairytale where nothing can go wrong lol 😜

Bless your beautiful juicy brain anon!

I will say the only logistical problem I would have with this is Alicent is way too insecure to be in a polyamorous relationship lmao😭

[dullweapons]

  ‘ comforting ‘ 

send me    ‘ comforting ‘    for my muse’s reaction to yours gently wiping their tears away after they’ve been caught crying 

( placed between botw & totk ! )

he stood at the broken bridge to akkala — the bridge he broke so many years ago … it felt like a dream now , trying to remember what exactly happened back then but dream isn’t quite the right word now is it ? it was a horrid nightmare filled with the cries of families running & his men falling like flies to the might of the machines . thousands gone … ray closed his eye for a moment — he could almost hear the screams . he felt his own throat tightening … he recalls how he could barely speak from yelling orders , yelling names as they fell with a sickening thud before going lifeless .

his shoulders tense .

the sounds of lasers & screams were impossible to remove from his ears — he could hear them now ! he could feel the aches in his legs from running ! blood all over him as he carried half dead men to shelter . he begged them to hold on just a little longer ! it was going to end ! it had to end ! the gods where watching them , surly they must intervene soon ! hylia — hylia are you listening to the pray of a demon begging you to save these humans ! please forgive him for fighting against you as a child — he will turn a new if you just save these people !

he heard foot steps — quickly he turned , blade drawn from its sheath in an instant as he aimed it at the intruder … only to see princess zelda .

“ you’re grace ?! w-where is link !? he is to protect you while you went to mount lanayru ! ” the demon is quick to grab the princess by her wrist & yank her with him as he dashed away from akkala citadel — he would have to get her back fast if she is to awake her sealing powers . perhaps if he carries her & runs as fast as he can they could get there in a few hours ! ray was quicker than a mortal man nor would he get tired ! then if she awakens her powers she could stop the guardians ! the man turns once more to lift her but freezes —

her hair .

it’s short .

it wasn’t short … it was long ? why is it … where is her dress ? the one that looks like hylia’s …

ray blinks a few times & the sounds of screams leave his ears & all is silent . a soft breeze rushes past carrying no smoke but leaves that land around them ever so gently . there is no one here but them . he frees her as his hands fall limply to his sides .

tears form in his eyes as he stares past the princess into pure nothingness . ah . he went away again , didn’t he ? he’s been doing that more & more … perhaps spending so much time here in akkala was not good for his mind but the guilt … he needed to fix it . he needed to find all of his men & give them a proper burial: the resting place they deserved for dying for the kingdom if he didn’t … well, he wasn’t going to be able to live with himself anymore .

finally the tears feel down his cheeks — & a soft hand brushed them away .

the demon says nothing . he allows her to touch him & gives no emotion . finally his eye regain it’s light as he looks at her — not through . the demon stares for a moment or two as she continues to wipe away his tears .

she looks like someone he knew once , so many years ago … the sage of time . sonia quite liked her … no — no he must be getting lost again , isn’t he ? that was one of the first times he’s watched the world he helped create die to the hands of ganondorf . he must remain here . finally he pushes her hand away gently . normally he meets the princess with ire in his eyes but oh , he simply can’t hold onto this anger anymore… at least not after her so carefully brush away his tears . he can be a grouchy old man but he isn’t heartless .

“…they say when akkala citadel fell … the kingdom fell with it … i did my best , zelda … why wasn’t it enough ? ”

[knarroweddown]

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

Woooo! Welcome to Whumptober everybody! First drabble of the year so lets get this started! Keep in mind, this is inspired by "The Young Traveler (AoC)" by FierySoul135 on Ao3, link to the fic at the very bottom if you're interested!

___

"Dry Lungs"

The deity scanned the ruined canyon behind him, thunder purring and dislodging stones from their resting place on the cliffs. Blood dripped from each crevice and cranny, seeping deep into the soul of the earth so it won’t forget the cleansing that it had just witnessed. Noise slowly petered out of existence, no heartbeats, no screaming, nothing.

He hummed, watching his clouds fizzle away and release the blue sky it previously held in its possession. Relief flooded his senses and joy bloomed at the bloody wasteland he had created. ‘Hm hm, well that sure was something…’ Heavy steps echoed off of the canyon walls, occasionally accompanied by blood dripping down the cliffs in a near serene fashion to his ears. There were, of course, Yiga guards protecting various positions of the canyon, but they were splattered against the wall in seconds and silence was restored in mere seconds.

The wall of stone and sand abruptly comes to an end, opening up to contrastingly harsh heat compared to the cool breeze in the valley. Sand spanned as far as the eye could see, ruins scattered every other mile with wind whipping sand against their abandoned corpses. In the distance, the god could see a faint smudge against the horizon.

“That can’t be the town… can it?” Time questioned, squinting his eyes uselessly against the blinding sun. “Hm, I’m not opposed to going to the town, I could use the-.” Something ugly tugged in his stomach, a seemingly visceral reaction to his own words. He doubled over, clutching his armored stomach in confusion, ‘Did one of those Yiga guys manage to hurt me…?’ He coughed harshly and brought himself back onto his feet, the dry air beginning to assault the interior of his throat. 

“Alright, I need to get back to Link and Princess Zelda, the-,” A coughing fit takes over his lungs with a metal grip, forcing the deity to support himself on a nearby stone pillar. “Th- the Yiga could’ve– cough cough –gone after them as well…” 

Time stared at the distant town before zipping his way over what looked like the oasis he had visited with the Princess and her knight. Luckily, the cloud of sand he produced from the mere speed he moved at hid his imposing figure from those in the small clearing. More coughing wracked through Time’s body, the sand around him inducing a hacking wheeze arise from him. Around him, the trees shook and water trembled, small people looking around in panic until they settled on the massive dust cloud. ‘Crap, can’t let them see me like this,’ Time panics. He zips even further from the oasis, closer to a canyon not quite unlike that of the Yiga Canyon.

He catches himself on a wall, wheezing sand and dust out of his lungs. ‘Maybe moving like this isn’t the best idea when I’m in this condition’ he thinks, unsure his voice would be able to carry a single sentence. The Hero gives himself some time before straightening up, ‘It must’ve been the sand that killed my throat… Seems I won’t have an issue once I’m past this desert.’

His armor should be cooking him alive, maybe it comes with the form? Why doesn’t it protect his throat from this wretched sand though? He shakes his head in exhaustion, all he has to do is make it back to the citadel. Time speeds past the shade at the entrance to the Gerudo Canyon, not attempting to make any stops in favor of distance. The dry air burned his throat and nose, blood beginning to form little droplets on his cracked lips.

No cold breeze comforts his burning body as he races down the winding roads, only mild shadows in thin corridors are available. Not much happened on his race through the maze of stone, only the occasional moblin that was dumb enough to attack him. However, there were other issues he needed to deal with that weren't just stray moblins.

Fatigue clung to his lungs, as did the tons of sand particles he had breathed in as he traversed across the desert. Each breath he took was an effort, like he was drowning in his own spit. No, he was drowning in the air, his mouth was dry like the ground around him. The deity clung onto his strength, afraid if he loosened his grip even a little he might collapse.

‘Dear Goddesses, when will this end?’ Time’s vision had begun to go blurry by the time he reached the end of the canyon. The land looked unfamiliar to his exhausted mind, the only thing he recognized was the giant horse head in the distance, a symbol of the giant stables that are scattered around the country. The only thing between him and the stable was a bridge, easy enough.

As he stepped onto the rickety wooden bridge, his stomach lurched again. Falling onto his knees a second time, he heaved onto the floor. Time felt his armor and strength fall away, his frail, injured form hunched over in agony. Blood spewed from his mouth instead of any food he may have had before his kidnapping, the jerking movements forcing the injuries on his back even further open. Time shakily got on his feet, using his knees for support as the sun stung his wounds. The brand hissed angrily on his shoulder each time he shifted and the injuries on his ribs and stomach spurted more blood with each tense step he took.

It felt like ages once he made it to the end of the bridge, his clothes a disgusting red and his wounds irritatingly swollen. The stable was much closer now. His vision was all but gone however and the building seemed to glide away from him tauntingly.

Time growled, a disgusting gurgle escaping from his throat instead, and shambled after the fleeing stable. His steps grew heavier and heavier the further he pushed himself. Horses knickered in the distance, the clinking of armor and voices forcing its way into his ears. He looked up wearily, collapsing completely on the floor. The yelling grew louder, as did the sound of armor and hooves.

That’s weird, he didn’t think Yiga were the type to ride horses, nevertheless wear such bright armor. The Hero reached for his sword but it was lying lifeless by his side. He thrashed but was only able to move his torso to the left, dragging his bloody gashes across the rocks and leaving him gasping in pain. 

Rocks bounce around him as the ground begins to tremble, and then shake. Black clouds his vision as he attempts a glare at the horses surrounding him, legs flopping uselessly behind him in an attempt to stand. One of the riders dismounted, landing heavily next to Time, speaking rapidly in a rougher language to his own.

He’s forced onto his back like a ragdoll and stares into the blue abyss. A face comes into his limited vision, and it feels familiar, like something just outside of his comprehension, so he calmed somewhat. He wiggled as best as his body would let him but was swiftly stopped when a multitude of hands held him down. Fingers were forced into his face, the yelling becoming louder each time they shook. Time grunted, focusing with all his might at the fingers. 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” The man said urgently, worry bleeding into his tone with each attempt he made. 

The Hero stared for a second longer, feeling his mind wander to everything but the blurry shape in front of his face. “Lucas?” is all he manages to get out before consciousness is snatched from him and he falls into darkness.

---

Ao3 Link:

Tumblr: @theyoungtraveler

I thought, what would happen if Time tried to return to the capital instead of going to Gerudo Town? Apologies if some landmarks or names aren't correct, finding the AoC map was difficult lmao

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

5 times Merlin does something that requires a considerable amount of strength;

+1 time the gang has time to actually bring it up.

Everyone is baffled, half distracted by Merlin’s surprising buffness and half amused by Arthur’s gay panic:

1)

The clearing fills with the sounds of a brutal fight. 

The Knights of Camelot, along with their King, had given up on trying to figure out how bandits always managed to find them in the woods. It seemed impossible for there to be so many mercenary groups that it was just coincidence for them to stumble upon each other so often, but equally, the knights moved quietly and always covered their tracks well, so... yeah, who knows.

The point is, they’re outnumbered three to one, and all of them were starting to regret not listening to Merlin’s earlier suggestion that they keep riding for another hour or so; their camp was destroyed and the fight was tiring them out.

Three to one weren’t bad odds, especially for knights with such a high level of skill, but it was exhausting and time consuming and they just wanted it to be over. Merlin was having similar thoughts as he stumbles through the middle of the crowd, trying to get out of the way. He was keeping an eye on them of course, but his friends were winning so his magical intervention wasn’t really needed; he was just annoyed that Arthur was almost certainly going to make him clear everything up afterwards.

His attention is suddenly caught when Percival’s voice rings out across the clearing:

“Merlin! Behind you!”

All of the knights’ gazes whip to the servant when they hear the giant’s yell, and they all abandon their own battles to step towards him despite knowing that they were too far away to be able to help in time. The servant takes in a sharp breath at Percival’s warning, becoming suddenly aware of a fast-moving presence behind him; he forms a fist and turns, swinging blindly with all his strength and following through even when his knuckles crunch with surprising accuracy against the temple of a bandit.

The man, not expecting the rapid attack, doesn’t have time to move out of the way, and his head jerks to the side, his entire body following as if an afterthought. He crumples to the floor gracelessly, unconscious before his head makes contact with the trampled undergrowth.

Merlin hisses at the pain bursting through his knuckles and up into his wrist, shaking his hand out as he steps over the bandit’s still form without even blinking, back to focusing on attempting to find a tree to sit behind and sulk, as if nothing had happened.

The knights only have a fraction of a second to freeze in shock before they’re dragged back to their own fights, forced to defend themselves lest they get skewered. 

The battle only lasts a few more minutes; despite being outnumbered, the knights far outmatch the bandits in skill (and sufficient armour) and Merlin was correct in his assumption that they wouldn’t need any of his DIY luck, which is a good thing really, considering how much his hand is throbbing. He peeks his head around the tree when things go suspiciously quiet, getting up and making his way to the abandoned bag of medical supplies when he sees the knights victorious.

The servant runs a quick gaze over them, taking stock of any potential injuries as he makes his way through the clearing, injured hand clenched tightly and held to his chest. He may have knocked the bandit out, but that just meant that the punch was hard enough to do damage to his hand as well as the other guy’s head. When he finds nothing more than the odd bruise on the others, he grabs a roll of bandages for himself, quickly wrapping his hand almost painfully tight, before turning to Arthur with a scowl:

“I told you we were too close to the road, I told you we should’ve kept on going. But do you ever listen to me? No, because you’re-”

He’s cut off by The King stepping towards him and taking his bandaged hand, cradling it gently and looking to Merlin in concern:

“Merlin, are you alright?”

Merlin just rolls his eyes and huffs, snatching his hand back and retreating to check on the horses, thankfully tied and uninjured at the edge of the clearing:

“No, my hand fucking hurts, because, surprisingly enough, these idiots have skulls almost as thick as yours. We need to move camps, like I said earlier. Prat.”

Arthur frowns, looking down to Merlin’s unconscious bandit at his feet, and then glancing back to the other knights, who all just shrug with wide eyes. The King sighs, reluctantly nodding at Merlin’s assertion as he stares up at the darkening sky, deciding that Merlin must’ve... hit a pressure point or... something:

“Everyone pack up, I want to be moving on in three minutes.”

2)

Merlin had foregone his jacket and rolled his sleeves up in the surprising Spring heatwave.

Which was a sight in itself.

But what really made the knights look twice (I mean... Arthur was just outright staring, but Leon had long since glared the others into not mentioning The King’s little... crush) was the way the supposedly wimpy servant had two sets of chainmail folded on one shoulder, his arm curled over them to keep them balanced, and a few odd bits of mismatched armour clutched in his other hand. He was making his way from the training field up to the castle, presumably to find an empty room to sit quietly and clean them.

Elyan waves at him across the field, the movement just about catching the servant’s gaze as he twists around, flashing a bright, sunny grin in place of waving back. 

Arthur gulps, eyes drawn to the vein standing out from Merlin’s uncovered neck; apparently the heat had encouraged him to abandon his neckerchief as well. The King takes a deep breath, sending a scowl Merlin’s way to cover his... surprise, holding in a smirk when the servant just rolls his eyes and turns back to the castle.

His stride was strong, and though his arms were straining against the weight, he looked entirely unbothered, not even breathing deeply as he picks up his pace, jogging up the citadel steps.

Training had all but stopped at this point, the roundtable knights staring in confusion as Merlin carefully pulled the door open, making sure he wouldn’t drop anything, before nudging the door shut again with his hip. Gwaine was the first to break the silence, quirking one of his eyebrows up as he speaks in a slightly surprised tone:

“Didn’t know he had it in him. Wearing one set, when the weight is evenly distributed, is hard enough, let alone carrying two sets. And armour. Up steps. Huh.”

Arthur clears his throat, looking away with a slight blush as he asserts:

“Yes, well, knights carry the same weight in armour and weapons everyday, if not more. If you’re that impressed Sir Gwaine, perhaps you should work on your strength.”

Gwaine turns to him with a smirk, but Leon’s warning glare stops him from teasing, or saying anything else that could be considered treasonous. Instead, he rolls his eyes at the first knight before humming non-committedly and pointing his sword at The King:

“That, Princess, sounds like a challenge.”

Arthur, blush forgotten, looks up with raised eyebrows and a chuckle, noting with satisfaction the way the other knights spread out to form a circle around the two of them, swords lowered and expectant looks on their faces:

“Does it now? I suppose you’ll have to take me up on it then, won’t you?”

3)

The knights were on some stupid (in Merlin’s opinion) quest.

The group was currently making their way through a complicated cave system. They had maps, thankfully, but they were old, and provided by a small village of locals who hadn’t spoken common very well. 

They’d had to trade away half of their supplies in return for the maps, so Arthur was already in a foul mood, but a dotted line on the page across the path they were following was worrying him. The note written next to it was in some old, almost lost native language, so The King had just resigned himself to carrying on and hoping for the best.

Which is why he let out a series of echoing curse words when they turned a corner to find a ragged overhang, about eight feet above the path. The wall curved in on itself before jutting out again at the top, making it impossible to climb, even without armour and swords and packs.

Elyan is the first to break the tense silence after Arthur’s outburst, his tone half amused, half annoyed, as he mutters:

“That’ll be why the locals kept pointing at that ladder then.”

Arthur huffs, glaring at the knight with a rare venom, but Leon gestures to the map in his hand before he can retort:

“We can always go back, or is there another way around?”

Arthur huffs louder, letting out a short growl as he thrusts the maps to Leon’s chest and paces closer to the overhang:

“Feel free, if you can find an alternative route, please, enlighten me. The village is a day’s journey away, we don’t have time to go back.”

Leon covers his annoyance at Arthur’s harshness well, but Merlin scowls at The King openly before moving to stand at the junction between the wall of the corridor, and the overhang in front of them:

“Don’t be an arse, Arthur, it’s not Leon’s fault that none of us can understand Old... whatever it was. And it’s not that high, just-”

With that, Merlin braces his foot against the wall, bending his knees slightly before pushing off and jumping up, reaching out and grabbing the overhang, his feet dangling off the ground. The knights stare in shock, but before they can say anything, Merlin swings his feet forwards, and backwards, and forwards again. When they swing back for the second time, he uses the momentum to pull himself up, his arms locking out straight beneath him as he lifts his knees up, crawling over the edge and onto the floor above them.

Arthur blinks, looking from the floor, to the wall, and up to Merlin again, trying to figure out how the hell his manservant had enough strength in his arms and core to pull himself up; he hadn’t even taken his pack off.

Lancelot clears his throat, tilting his head and frowning as he slowly speaks:

“That was... impressive. But we’re wearing armour, Merlin, I don’t think we’ll be able to manage that with all the extra weight.”

No one mentions that they don’t think they could do it even without armour.

Merlin just rolls his eyes and sits on the edge, his feet dangling below him as he gestures vaguely:

“Well if you just get your hands on the ledge then I can pull you up. Take your packs off and throw them up first if you’re so worried, you can give each other a hand up, and Percival can go last because of how tall he is. Come on, it wasn’t that hard.”

Lancelot shrugs, taking his pack off and throwing it up with all his might. Merlin leans out, catching it with ease and chucking it behind him as he motions Percival to interlock his hands. The knight does so, allowing Lancelot to step on them and throw himself up, just about managing to catch the ledge and groaning at the strain in his arms. Merlin brings his feet back over the overhang, bracing his heels against the stone as he reaches down, gripping Lancelot’s wrists and hauling him up and over the edge.

Lance yelps as Merlin yanks him up, rolling onto his back and panting at the ceiling as he blinks in surprise. Merlin doesn’t pay him any attention, frowning down at the others and gesturing at them to hurry:

“Come on, I thought we were in a rush?”

With that, they all huddle below, taking turns to be thrown up and hauled over the edge. Merlin drags Elyan up on his own, Lance still recovering from his slight shock, but the more people gather at the top, the less work Merlin has to do. Which is good, because he may be strong, but he’s not sure he could manage Percival on his own. The giant has to take a running leap at the ledge, and it takes four of them to pull him up without dislocating any shoulders or throwing out any backs.

When they’re all successfully at the top, Merlin wordlessly picks his pack up, shrugging it onto his shoulders as he begins a quick pace along the corridor as if he hadn’t a care in the world; the knights break out of their stupors and jog to catch up, knowing that Merlin was right and they needed to hurry.

4)

Arthur was glaring resolutely at the floor, trying to psych himself up to confront whatever arsehole had managed to get the drop on him and his six best knights. The others were arguing in whispers around him, trying to figure out some way to escape the dungeon unscathed, though The King kept silent, knowing that the only way out was if someone unlocked these infernal chains first.

They’d only been there for around an hour, so no one from Camelot would have realised they were missing yet; their only hope was that Merlin was making his way back to the city to get help. He’d been off gathering firewood, and he’d already been gone half a candle mark when they’d been ambushed; Arthur would never admit it, but he had faith that Merlin would be able to sort everything out.

The King harshly shushes the knights as he hears the guards begin to yell, but frowns in confusion when he hears “They’re going crazy up there!” and “What the fuck?!” before the unmistakable sound of armoured boots running up the stairs and away from the dungeons reaches them.

The knights all look to each other in confusion, straining against their chains to try and see through the small barred window at the top of the door. A shadow passes through the square of light on the floor, and they all shuffle back against the wall, staying silent. None of them manage to hold in their surprised yelps however, when the door suddenly bursts in, the wood around the lock splintering violently and spreading shards across the dungeon floor.

A strong arm extends out, stopping the now broken beyond repair door from swinging shut again, and the knights look up, taking in sharp gasps when they see Merlin stood there, scowling disapprovingly with a ring of keys in his other hand and one foot in front of the other, as if he had... as if he had kicked the door. Leon is the first to break the silence:

“Merlin?? What are you doing here?”

Merlin’s scowl deepens as he glances down the corridor before stepping into the dungeon, sorting through the keys to try and figure out which one would open which set of chains:

“Well I’m rescuing you lot, obviously. I leave camp for barely a candle-mark and you get yourselves kidnapped. Honestly, how hard is it to not find trouble, for once?”

Arthur is too busy staring at Merlin’s apparently muscled legs to say anything, even when Elyan clears his throat and kicks him, so Percival is the next to speak as Merlin unlocks his chains:

“Why not just... unlock the door?”

Merlin doesn’t look at the largest of the knights as he moves on to the others, unchaining them one by one as he responds, his scowl still firmly in place:

“The key was on a separate ring and I only had time to grab one, figured the door would be easier to break than the chains.”

Arthur finally blinks and shakes his head free of.... distracting, thoughts as Merlin finally turns to him, holding his hands out to be unchained as he clears his throat and says strongly, forcing the waiver from his voice:

“How did you distract the guards?”

Merlin finally smiles at that, standing and reaching into his pocket to pull out a lumpy looking bit of plant:

“Snuck in and pretended to be one of their slaves, laced all the jugs with mandrake root. They’re all going loopy with hallucinations upstairs, a few of them vomited and I think one guy might have shit himself. The guards went to see what was wrong, so we don’t have much time, come on.”

Arthur nods impressed, and was the last of the group to sneak from the dungeon, pausing briefly to run a hand over the splintered wood and warped metal of the kicked-in door, before shaking his head and following the others out of the not-quite-abandoned fort.

5)

It had been almost a year since Merlin had last seen his mother, so when the servant requested two weeks off to visit home, wanting to help the village out with repairs before the winter set in, Arthur agreed immediately, on the condition that he and a couple of the knights could tag along.

Merlin reluctantly gave in, but only after insisting that he wouldn’t be Arthur’s servant, and whoever came would have to dig in and help out. To be honest, Arthur was mentally exhausted after months of work on repealing the magic ban, so Merlin was silently grateful that he was coming; The King needed a break, and Merlin knew how secretly fond the man was of Merlin’s mother, and her simple country life. 

In the end, Leon and Mordred were the only ones who could come; Lancelot and Elyan were left in charge of patrols, Percival and Gwaine were left in charge of training, and Guinevere, Gaius, and Morgana were left to oversee the council and the general running of the Kingdom. Arthur wasn’t worried to be honest, they were only going to be gone for two weeks, and if disaster set in they were only a two day’s ride away at most.

It was chilly, the winter was setting in early so Merlin and Hunith were eager for work to start as soon as possible. There were numerous leaks and fences to fix, and one of the village’s barns needed clearing out so it could filled with grain over the snowy season.

That, and as much firewood needed to be collected as possible so they could stockpile. They normally barely had enough to last them through the winter; Arthur had nodded in approval when Merlin had meekly asked if they could take a cart of wood with them from Camelot, but they still had a lot to gather.

It was the afternoon of their first day, Leon had been sent to a neighbour’s to fix a roof, Merlin was doing something outside, and Mordred was just about to head over to one of the livestock pastures to strengthen a few of the fences. Hunith was preparing the evening’s meal and Arthur stood politely in the doorway as he spoke:

“Merlin said that firewood had to be gathered? I can get started on that if you can point me in the right direction.”

Hunith smiles over her shoulder briefly, and Arthur ignores the warm fuzziness in his stomach at the sight as she speaks:

“Oh don’t worry about that, we’ve only one axe in the village and Merlin is out by the barn chopping wood now. I know there’s a leak somewhere in the basement of the village hall, a few of the boys are already down there if you’re looking for something to do?”

Arthur raises his eyebrow at Hunith’s insistence that Merlin, his lanky manservant, was outside with an axe chopping wood, and he glances at Mordred over his shoulder, who just shrugs, nodding to Hunith’s turned back. The King responds quietly, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice:

“Hmm. I’ll go check in with Merlin and then head down to the hall, if he doesn’t need help.”

Hunith hums in agreement, but otherwise doesn’t reply, mumbling under her breath about herbs and measurements as she stirs something into the pot. Arthur smirks at Mordred and the two of them head out, neither mentioning how Mordred was following Arthur to find Merlin instead of getting to the fences.

They walk in silence, though they both freeze on the spot when they turn a corner to see Merlin, once again with his sleeves rolled up, hefting around a huge lump of wood, a ginormous axe resting on his shoulder. He gets the wood where he wants it, stepping back and wiping his forearm across his sweaty forehead before lifting the axe and swinging it down again. The stump splits easily beneath the sharpened metal, and Merlin wastes no time in repositioning the new pieces of wood, ready to be chopped again.

Arthur doesn’t even realise his mouth is hanging open until Mordred looks at him and smirks, biting his lip before giving in and snorting quietly:

“You’re the colour of our capes, Sire, and you might want to shut your mouth. Don’t want to catch flies, do you?”

Arthur’s jaw snaps shut with a clack, and he frowns as his teeth begin to ache. Mordred chuckles slightly and though Arthur is grateful that the young knight is finally comfortable enough to joke around with him, he desperately wishes he wasn’t at Gwaine’s level of comfort.

Instead of retorting, Arthur just clears his throat and turns around, striding towards the village hall:

“It appears he’s got things handled. Those fences won’t fix themselves, Sir Mordred.”

Mordred only just manages to hold in his giggle, looking up to see Merlin staring confusedly at him and Arthur’s rapidly retreating back. He waves briefly, sending a quick “I’ll tell you later.” over their mental link before turning himself and heading in the direction of the pastures.

He knows full well that he has no intention of telling Merlin about Arthur’s crush; watching them tiptoe around each other was the funniest thing ever, and he didn’t want to ruin the bet that Gwaine had going.

+1)

The fight was vicious, more so than any of the skirmishes the knights had dealt with in the last several months.

They were vastly outnumbered, and the addition of four powerful sorcerers to the enemy ranks meant that Merlin and Mordred were quickly running out of energy, having to focus on both the magical aspect of the fight, and trying to keep everyone else alive.

The metallic scent of blood was almost overwhelming, and the constant clang of metal on metal mixed with the whooshing echoes of sorcerous fire and vines was deafening. The fight went on a lot longer than Merlin had thought it would; the enemy was clearly more skilled than predicted, but the Camelot knights did prevail eventually, Percival ending the fight with the smooth slice of his blade across the last mercenary’s throat.

Merlin wastes no time in running his gaze over the knights, giving special attention to Arthur as he searches for any injuries that need seeing to immediately. The last of the sorcerers had managed to escape, so they needed to get out of there as soon as possible: there’s no way they’d survive a second attack if he came back with reinforcements.

Merlin was relieved to see nothing too serious; Lancelot had a gash on his temple that would need a thorough cleaning and a few stitches, and Gwaine was holding his wrist to his chest in a way that told Merlin it was likely broken, but everyone was on their feet and no one was crying. That’s a good start.

Merlin relaxes, but his shoulders quickly tense again as Mordred’s voice echoes weakly through his head:

“Emrys... I’m... I’m tired...”

Merlin whips around quickly, his eyes wide and panicked as his frantic gaze lands on the young knight. He’s leaning against a tree, his eyes hooded and focused on the floor. Merlin leaps towards him, catching him just before his head lands harshly on a boulder, and pulling the collapsed younger man into a more comfortable position as Arthur rushes over:

“What’s wrong with him? I don’t see any blood, was he hit with magic?”

Merlin waves him off, checking Mordred’s pulse and breathing before he relaxes again, sending a tired, but relieved smile up to The King:

“He’s fine, just exhausted. This is the first time he’s used this much magic in years, he’ll need a little while to recover his strength, but we need to get out of here in case they come back.”

Arthur lets out a relieved sigh and nods, leaning down to take one of Mordred’s arms and waving Gwaine over to pick his legs up, but before either of them get even close, Merlin stands up, dragging Mordred with him and settling the armoured knight across his shoulders. He looks to Arthur next to him, not seeming to notice The King’s shock as he quickly says:

“I know you’re The King and all, but would you mind carrying my bag?”

Arthur nods dumbly, picking up Merlin’s dropped medical bag without taking his gaze off the Warlock, who wanders around double checking that the other knights were ok and that all the bandits were dead as if he didn’t have about 240 pounds of man and armour dangling from his shoulders.

Leon catches Arthur’s eye, nodding pointedly towards the path they needed to take, trying to pull Arthur back into the present before the others notice him gawping. Arthur gulps, blushing as he nods his thanks and moves away from the battlefield, Merlin’s bag secured on his shoulders as he confidently speaks:

“Merlin’s right, we need to get as far away from here as we can. I saw a cave about two hours’ back North, we can make camp there before heading back to Camelot in the morning. Gather as much as you can carry, we’ve no hope of finding the horses before nightfall, hopefully they can make their own way home.”

The knights all nod, following Arthur’s lead as he steps carefully through the underbrush, trying not leave any obvious pointers to their direction. He keeps his gaze resolutely ahead as he hears Percival ask:

“You alright, Merlin? Sure you don’t want a hand?”

Despite keeping his gaze stubbornly forward, Arthur strains his ears to hear Merlin’s response, refusing to acknowledge the sudden weakness in his knees at what the Warlock replies with:

“Nah, it’s fine, he’s not that heavy.”

Leon subtly sidles up to walk next to The King, glancing behind him before leaning in close, talking quietly as they moved:

“Perhaps you should... let him know of you affections, Sire?”

Arthur’s blushing gaze quickly finds the older knight’s before he looks away again:

“I don’t know what you think you’re implying, Sir Leon.”

Leon just raises his eyebrow in an unusual display of amused defiance:

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Arthur. He’s been by your side for ten years, you’ve been through the unspeakable, both with each other and for each other. That, and he has a surprisingly... admirable physique.-”

Arthur’s blush deepens and he clears his throat, crossing his arms petulantly and staring resolutely ahead. Leon puts a hand on The young King’s shoulder as he continues:

“-You’re...-”

The knight sighs and bites his lip again, debating with himself over whether he should say it or not:

“-you’re head over heels for him, Sire, perhaps it’s time to do something about it? Gods know he feels the same, and the Gods also know that he’ll never make the first move. He’s still... nervous, about messing things up, I think. His-”

Leon glances over his shoulder again to make sure no one could hear him before dropping his voice to a whisper:

“-his magic being outed put him... on edge, even after all these months. He won’t do anything that he think could push you away or anger you.”

Arthur sighs and nods, before turning to him slowly with an embarrassed scowl on his face; he doesn’t shrug off Leon’s hand, which the knight takes as a good sign:

“Not a word to anyone, Leon, I swear to the Gods.”

Leon holds his hand up and uses his other to wave a cross over his heart:

“I swear, Sire. Though I feel the need to tell you that... at least three of the other servants, and I do believe Lady Bronwyn and Sir Galahad, also have... uh... their eyes on him, as it were.”

Arthur’s scowl gets impossibly deeper as he huffs, muttering to himself:

“They do, do they? Well, we’ll see about that.”

Leon just smirks again and rolls his eyes fondly before falling back to walk with Elyan.

~

They finally make it back to the cave, though it took them even longer without horses. Merlin had requested they stop around a candle mark in so he could remove some of the heavier bits of Mordred’s armour, passing them off to the other knights, but he had once again rejected any offers of help, saying that he was slowly siphoning his own magic into Mordred so he would wake sooner. Apparently they needed to be touching for that to happen, and though Merlin had been teaching them, none of them had enough knowledge on magic to know whether that was true or not, but they did know that Merlin was incredibly protective of the young Druid, so they let it be.

A fire was lit quickly and supplies were laid out. A map had been saved, thankfully, so they could figure out roughly where they were and how long it would take them to get back home as Merlin quickly treated Lance’s gash and Gwaine’s wrist.

Mordred begins to stir just as Percival serves up food, groaning slightly and rubbing at his eyes before struggling to sit himself up. Merlin had rushed to his side as soon as he felt the Druid begin to wake, and helps prop him up against the cave wall, handing him a water-skin as he stares at him with concern. Mordred takes a long drink, nodding his thanks and clearing his throat before speaking, his voice gravelly and slow:

“This... this is the cave we passed a few hours ago...”

His voice trails off, and Arthur answers the question in his tone:

“Hmm. We had no horses, so we were never going to make it back to the city, but we couldn’t stay where we were.”

Mordred nods, yawning widely and rubbing his eyes again as he asks:

“How did you get me this far without horses?”

Arthur clenches his jaw, blushing slightly as he looks away, but thankfully Gwaine butts in, answering with a grin on his face before anyone notices The King’s flush:

“Merlin here is stronger than he looks. Carried you the whole way, didn’t use magic or anything.”

Mordred turns his incredulous gaze to Merlin and he just shrugs absentmindedly:

“You don’t weigh that much, it was fairly easy.”

Elyan laughs and shakes his head, joining in on the conversation quickly:

“Are you kidding me? I mean... sure, I could’ve carried him for maybe an hour, if I was at full strength and it was easy terrain. You carried him for three, only took his armour off in the second hour, down what could barely be classified as a path, in a barely tamed forest, after a pretty hefty fight. That’s... impressive.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, looking around the room in bafflement as he realises that everyone is staring at him with varying levels of impressed confusion:

“You guys... you guys know that I grew up in the country, right? I spent my childhood climbing trees and running away from predators, and my teenage years chopping wood, building things with barely any help, and fighting the odd bear. I then arrive in Camelot, only to immediately be given a job that involves carrying a shit ton of heavy stuff, including, but not limited to: armour, luggage, hunting equipment, and the occasional unconscious idiot.”

Arthur sits up straight and scowls slightly when Merlin gestures to him instead of Mordred:

“You have never had to carry me anywhere.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, gaze sinking to the floor as he smirks and coughs out something that sounds suspiciously like “Sophia”.

Arthur’s blush deepens and he jabs an accusing finger in Merlin’s direction:

“That. Didn’t. Happen.”

Merlin bites his lip to stop himself from laughing, but his dimples still show through despite his best effort and he holds his hands up in surrender:

“Whatever you say, Sire.”

Arthur just clenches his jaw and sits back against the wall with eyes focused on his food and cheeks red, stubbornly ignoring the knights’ curious stares as everyone eats their food. Merlin fusses over Mordred for a few more minutes but is quickly waved away by the younger man; the Warlock huffs and rolls his eyes, but gives in to the fact that Mordred did not need, nor want, to be babied. He moves subtly around the cave to sit down next to Arthur, barely a foot of air between them despite the abundance of space elsewhere.

Arthur forces his blush down at Merlin’s proximity, refusing to think of anything but his food and the difficult journey home, desperately keeping his gaze on his meal instead of Merlin’s strong legs stretched out next to him.

The King doesn’t acknowledge him, but doesn’t move away either, which Merlin takes as a good sign as he settles in, wrapping himself in a blanket to protect his body from the impending cold.

The other knights have long since finished their meals, scarping the lot in a matter of seconds in an attempt to gain back a little energy after the hours of riding and fighting and walking; they quickly settle into the blankets and cloaks and bedrolls they had managed to carry, though Leon seems to deliberately move slower, waiting for Arthur to glance up at him so he can give a pointed look to Merlin, just finishing his food, before laying down and attempting to sleep.

Arthur blushes with wide eyes, but Leon turns around before he has time to glare at him, and The King huffs quietly, risking a glance to a shivering Merlin next to him. He quickly frowns, not moving his gaze away like he had intended to, instead whispering softly:

“Cold? Can’t you use magic to warm up?”

Merlin looks to him tiredly, leaning his head back against the wall as his eyelids droop slightly:

“Hmm. I gave most of my reserves to Mordred, he was worse off than I first thought so he needed a lot more magic than I realised to keep him alive long enough for his energy to build up again.-”

Arthur widens his eyes at the fact that he was so close to losing one of his knights, but then shakes his head, huffing as he glares at the Warlock disapprovingly, but Merlin closes his eyes and continues before he can get told off:

“-I’ll be fine by morning, I just need-”

He’s interrupted when his body is wracked by a particularly strong shiver:

“-I just need some sleep.”

Arthur rolls his eyes, shuffling into a more comfortable position before opening his arms, spreading his cloak wide as if they were a pair of majestic wings:

“Come here, you idiot. I can’t have you freezing to death because you refuse to look after yourself.”

In normal circumstance Merlin would’ve argued, but he really was cold, so when he cracks his eyes open to see Arthur ready and waiting, he doesn’t hesitate to crawl hurriedly over. Arthur ignores the flush rising on his cheeks as Merlin clambers over one of his legs, settling between them and shoving his head under the blonde’s chin; he wraps his cloak around the two of them and rubs his cheek into the Warlock’s soft hair. 

He can feel Merlin grin against his collarbone, and it’s enough to distract him from the surprising, but not unwelcome, weight of Merlin’s muscled form against his chest:

“You know, Arthur, if you wanted to feel up my muscles so badly you just had to ask. You stare far too often to think you’re subtle.”

Arthur’s flush deepens and his body goes rigid as Merlin giggles. He clenches his jaw and lands a punch, far softer than he would normally go for, on the other man’s shoulder, but that just makes him giggle harder, and Arthur has to hush him in fear of waking the others. Merlin looks up at him through thick eyelashes, blinking tiredly with a satisfied smile on his face:

“Just let me know if you ever want carrying around, I’m more than happy to help.”

Arthur gulps, refusing to make eye contact as he stares resolutely at the opposite wall and not acknowledging the red hue of his cheeks:

“When we get back to Camelot, I’m hanging you for treason.”

Merlin snorts quietly, re-burying his face in Arthur’s chest and curling up tightly in his lap to stave off the cold:

“Whatever you say, Sire.”

Arthur gives in, smiling slightly and rolling his eyes as he tightens his hold on the other man. He lets his cheek fall back to rest on his soft hair as he closes his eyes, allowing his exhaustion to take over and descending into an easy sleep.

~

THE END!!

We stan Arthur gay panicking and all the knights (bar Leon of course, who handles it as tactically as he’s able) ruthlessly taking the piss :D

I hope y’all enjoyed reading this, I certainly enjoyed writing it! Thank you anon, I loved writing this!!!

Same as always, someone wants to write it up in full, go for it!! Drop me a message and credit/tag me :)

[whoree321]

the bad batch + what romance/rom com movies they watch with you

each of the bad batch x gn!reader

ok first and foremost i really truly believe to the pits of my soul that every single one of these fuckos loves romances and you cannot under any circumstances change my mind

ALSO it’s a gender neutral reader except kinda in echo’s theres like a very brief quote regarding breasts but like i still think even that is pretty gender neutral tbh

so anyway

Hunter: Pretty Woman

this is not the first time that i have publicly declared that i think hunter has a deep rooted connection to the movie pretty woman and it will not be the last

first of all this movie is incredibly soothing to hunters overwhelming savior complex

second of all hunter is literally richard gere (debonaire but emotionally distant gentleman that learns to love) and julia roberts (hooker with a heart of gold) at the same time

he was a little skeptical the first time you put it on but he instantly fell in love with it

the humor, the sensuality, the class divide, the glamour, the unconventional cinderella story of it all. it just really butters his bread

after the first time, when you suggest watching a movie and you pick this one he’ll act very aloof about it (“whatever you want cyar’ika, it doesn’t matter to me”) but secretly he’s really really happy bc it’s one of his favorites (you def know this and def pick it more often)

he absolutely hates the scene when stucky the lawyer hits vivian. like it doesn’t matter how many times he watches it he will fully turn his head away from the screen and say “I don’t like this part” and when it’s over he nuzzles a little closer into you and very tenderly kisses your forehead

he loves the soundtrack too. like he fully exposes how much he likes the movie when you catch him singing or humming “pretty woman” or “it must have been love” absently to himself (you kept it to yourself for a while but eventually you just had to tease him about it. he just smiled a little sheepishly and admitted he liked the songs before promptly changing the subject)

hunter also lowkey definitely wants to recreate the ending where richard gere shows up to her apartment in the white limo with you bc he thinks it’s such a sweet gesture and he wants to treat you like royalty

Crosshair: 10 Things I Hate About You

if there’s one thing about crosshair it’s that he’s a sucker for the enemies to lovers genre

maybe its just him projecting (spoiler alert it most certainly is) but he really enjoys watching the drama conflama of a miserable bastard be tricked into love

and really that’s the true essence of 10 Things I Hate About You

he will grumble and bitch and moan about not wanting to watch a ‘chick flick’ when you put it on, but 15 minutes in and he’s hooked

he has strong negative opinions on literally every single character except for kat and patrick

(crosshair really really wants to think he’s patrick but when it comes down to it he is katarina stratford in every single possible way)

he doesn’t say a word throughout the entire movie but you can tell when he’s annoyed at like bianca or cameron or joey bc he will openly scoff at them

will absolutely hum along in your ear during the “can’t take my eyes off you” scene and make out with you during the paintball scene

(seriously he wants to be patrick verona so bad)

when it’s over and you ask him what he thought he’ll roll his eyes and say “i guess it could have been worse” but his little smirk let’s you know he enjoyed it a lot more than he’s willing to admit

Tech: 50 Shades of Grey

ok hear me out on this one

tech is a huge movie talker. like subtitles are a non-negotiable if you wanna be able to take in any of the movies dialogue bc tech is most likely gonna make commentary over it the whole time

this makes him absolutely indescribably so much fun to watch bad/corny movies with

he will go off about EVERYTHING. the plot, the dialogue, the acting, the costuming, the music, the production quality. nothing and no one is safe. whether you just enjoy letting him talk at you or you join in on the roast, cheesy movies are a hoot between you two

and honey. 50 shades is one of THE cheesiest movies ever

you and tech will literally spend the entire duration of the movie tearing it to shreds

and the thing is tech is a very sarcastic, funny guy when he wants to be (and when it comes to you he definitely wants to be) so by the end of it he will have you in absolute stitches from laughing at the ridiculousness of both the movie and him

with any of the other batchers watching a movie like this either turns into a shy, slightly awkward experience (wrecker, echo) or an incorrigibly horny experience (crosshair, hunter)

but in this context tech literally has no shame or squeamishness about sexual things (why should he it’s a natural biological process?) so to yall the sex stuff is just another thing to roast

literally christian grey could be fully tying dakota johnson down and flogging her and tech will be like “in the last 3 minutes they have panned up to her nipples 4 times. this is criminally shoddy cinematography”

even tho he’s busy giving a detailed play by play critique, he never fails to keep some sort of physical contact with you (wrapping an arm around you and running his hand up and down your skin, playing with your fingers or your hair) so you know he’s enjoying spending this time with you despite his nasty words about the movie

also 1000% after you watch it tech will do extensive research on the ins and outs of bdsm and will have lots of hypotheses he wants to test out (as long as you’re willing and able ofc) ;)))

Wrecker: 13 Going On 30

of all the bad batch members, wrecker is the only one who unabashedly loves any movie that could be considered a chick flick

like he doesn’t even try to hide it or act like he’s too masculine for it. he loves romance and he’s proud of it

this man will have full marathons with you. rom coms, regular roms, tragic roms, hallmark roms, you name it and he’s game

his absolute favorite tho is 13 Going On 30

i feel like he has a huge soft spot for childhood best friends to lovers stories like he finds that type of lifelong partnership so endearing (and he loves to live vicariously through jenna since that type of romance was obviously never an option for him)

wrecker is also very childlike at heart and i think the idea of a 13 year old sweetheart trapped inside the body of a 30 year old cut throat magazine exec is so amusing to him (and maybe makes him feel just a little bit represented in the media)

he is definitely the type to completely engulf you in a cuddle for the entirety of the movie and he DEFINITELY cries into your shoulder at matty’s wedding when jenna is crying on the stoop with her dream house

he wants to try razzles so bad. like so bad. i think if he ever came across them somewhere he would barter at least one of his brothers for them

wrecker really just loves love and watching movies about it just reminds him of how lucky he is to have his own love story with you <3

Echo: The Princess Bride

i feel like it’s glaringly obvious why echo loves this movie

pirates. sword fighting. decades long revenge plots. the value of an honorable, loyal man. true love that never wavers even in the face of devastating tragedy and the darkest of hardships. clever but goofy humor.

echo considers this an action/adventure movie and NOT a romance movie (even tho it 100% totally is a romance movie) and requests to watch it very frequently

he can quote the whole thing. i’m seriously telling you echo loves the princess bride with his whole chest

even tho he refuses to admit it’s a love story above all else, he really does try to model himself in your relationship after wesley

like especially given what happened at the citadel and all the time you thought he was dead, the cinematic parellels are alive and present in y’alls relationship and he strives to be even half the man to you that wesley is to buttercup

literally in your day to day life he will sometimes respond to your requests with a smooth “as you wish ;)” (it doesn’t matter how many times he does it it still gives you butterflies)

when you watch the movie, he snuggles as close to you as possible and does his best to make youre comfy the whole time (he’s insecure about his prosthetics hurting you no matter how much you reassure him they don’t)

he just loves to be able to feel your heartbeat and your laugh when you giggle at the funny bits

every single time without fail at the part when buttercup is about to stab herself he leans down, ghosts his lips against the shell of your ear, and whispers the line in time with wesley: “there’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. it would be a pity to damage yours”

every single time without fail you wind up making out until he pulls away and tells you to watch the next part when wesley challenges humperdinck to a duel to the pain

echo just loves you to bits and wants you to know he’d endure a thousand fire swamps for you

Omega: Clueless

i have this really specific obsession with omega being a total girly girl and having very traditionally feminine interests as she keeps experiencing the universe and being exposed to a spectrum of gender expression beyond clone (masc and boring) and kaminoan (ugly)

so with that headcanon of her in mind, it’s vital to me that she sees clueless as soon as possible

clueless is an essential piece of media for a girl entering adolescence and i will die on this hill

it has literally everything you want and everything you need to develop into a well-rounded young woman

it’s so deliciously 90s and glamorama and valley girl humor and camp. its got meaningful female friendships and valuable life lessons and paul mf rudd

if there’s one thing you should encourage a burgeoning hetero teen girl to do, it’s to stick to dating guys like paul rudd in clueless. the earlier this message can be broadcast the better

the second you’re able to steal omega away from hunters watchful eyes (“hunter we’re just gonna watch finding nemo i swear!”) you show her this movie

at this point omega is not really a girly girl, but omega also has absolutely zero feminine influence in her life

the first time she sees clueless she is absolutely obsessed. like seriously she is so enamoured with the glitz and glam of cher horowitz

she asks you questions the entire time. she wants to know about EVERYTHING. the makeup, the clothes, the hair, the slang

(she definitely goes around saying stuff like “i’m totally bugging” for long enough afterwards that almost all of the boys have slipped up at least once with some ridiculous valley girl slang. you thought you were gonna die of laughter when you overheard tech say “as if!” to wrecker in the middle of an argument)

it just really introduces her to this whole world of femininity that she didn’t even know existed and she absolutely loves it

she makes you watch clueless with her seriously once a week at minimum. she begs you to style her hair like tai’s and you can’t help yourself when you happen to run across a little yellow plaid dress and buy it for her on sight

(hunter was gonna scold you for recklessly spending credits until he saw how omega almost cried from how happy she was for the gift)

honestly she enjoys the romance of it all and paul rudd is def her first celebrity crush but she enjoys more that you and her now have this special thing of hair and nails and pretty dresses

she loves how confident and beautiful and special you’re able to make her feel, and you love that you get to bring her that small sense of normalcy and happiness