#or write for my flight rising dragons. who knows

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

when the art block hitteth

[sunspinecity]

50$ to print 10 of the same skin has always been so insane to me. you're telling me it's 50$ to print....only 10.....of a single skin....and that's normal. And not only is that normal, that's what's required for a skin shop. where ppl may not even sign up for 10 runs. and then you're left in the shitter with at minimum 1-4 skins nobody wanted (not to mention if some people decide not to pay afterward) that you have to just pray someone finds & buys on the auction house. And it's 50$. Uhuh. And then that's just the artist's issue and fault and we're gonna blame them instead of the fact that a 10 print run costs as much as groceries.

[ranticore]

hits u with my dragon beam

tha boys and their dragons from the au i am self-indulgently messing with. green, bronze, and brown. these are scaled to their actual sizes relative to one another & their riders.

reasoning/more info under the cut. when i say 'niche audience' i mean the approximately One Person who knows my characters and has also read a pern book (me. i'm the one person it's me)

Féiix is a green rider obvs. I think it's really generous of dragons to have a colour specifically for bottoms. Her name is Searrath and she ends up committing matricide by stubbornly rising at the same time as queen Lenath, to protest the weyrwoman's abusive treatment of her rider. Searrath is legendarily short-tempered and protective, and although her rider might continually reassure her that his arrangement with the weyrwoman (as her personal spy; he is an ex-harper) is healthy, Searrath has other ideas. She is quite good at precise hops between, which is how she manages to bait Lenath into flying head first into a mountainside.

Islin's bronze Taranth is very big, very gentle, and completely unwilling to do his duty as a bronze in any capacity at all. He has a... complicated relationship with Lenath and endures a good amount of ridicule, but Islin is adamant that he will never make a bid for weyrleader as this involves sleeping with the weyrwoman and queen (he'll settle for being wingleader). A strong disagreement over Félix's spywork and loyalty to Lenath leads Islin and Taranth to walk out from their weyr, and operate out of a different base for years before Lenath ultimately dies from failing to compete with Searrath on a mating flight. He is the only bronze rider who is not originally from a weyr.

Francis's brown Nelath was almost killed by Lenath when he hatched. As the son of the newly-ousted ex-weyrleader, Francis could have easily impressed a bronze and ousted the current weyrleader, so the weyrwoman conspired to prevent it from happening. Lenath broke Nelath's leg during the hatching, and only the invervention of Francis's father's bronze saved both himself and the injured hatchling from what appeared to be the queen's random fit of infanticidal rage. Nelath recovered well and became a very popular brown dragon and an impressively good shot with his flames. He has attempted several times to chase a queen (usually one of the juniors, still a little wary of Lenath), and has even succeeded more than once. Francis and Nelath support one of those junior queens during an attempted ousting of Lenath and the weyrwoman, but never expected that Félix's loyalty to the weyrwoman would separate them for years (until Lenath goes out carcrash style against a mountainside, as previously mentioned)

It's my first time trying to write a full conspiracy over the course of the characters' lifetimes so it's pretty fun!

[ppeasants]

Hey so I ended up making a good amount of Headcanons for the Rito in Wind Waker, and I wanted to share them with y'all.

This came about while writing for my Wind fic focusing on the obscene amount of father figures he has (check it out here). This chapter was focused on Quill, and while I was developing their relationship, I ended up developing a decent amount of internal lore for the Rito, and I couldn't fit them all in the fic

So, I'm putting them so people can see it, and if people like em, they can hopefully use it for themselves, or expand on them, or just tell me what their own HCs are, or what they would change. I love the Rito, especially Wind Waker's, and I had so much fun doing this.

Just a quick disclaimer, I am not any sort of anthropologist, or linguist, or anything, so if I disrespect any real-world race or culture with this, I am really sorry. Please let me know if I misrepresent something so I can learn from it and change whatever is wrong.

HCs under the cut:

Tribe

It's all but confirmed that the Rito were evolved from the Zora, who were forced to evolve due to the unlivable water of the Great Flood. This colours a lot my headcanons about the Rio's values, traditions, and relations.

It is hard for the Rito to call any one place their home, since they lost theirs in the flood.

Their flight is important to them threefold: It's the gift theyr were given by Valoo in order to survive the flood, it gives them the freedom to explore around when they feel the loss of their home, and it's the closest thing they have to the freedom of swimming.

It's why the sky, their flight, and Valoo is all so important ot them.

Their connection to Valoo is why they call Dragon Roost home, although to them, it's more like a common hub, or home base. Most Rito don't actually have a set home, instead they travel around between place to place. It's why the Rito as delivery workers works so well for them.

Along with losing their home, the Rito also lost a lot of their culture. This causes them to be very protective of what they have now, rarely letting others take part in their actual traditions.

It's why Link (Wind) being a part of their family is such a big deal; hes one of the only Hylians to actually be accepted as a Rito¹ (the idea of Link being a Rito will come up later)

As a part of their culture and their worship of the sky as their new freedom, they revere Zephos and Cyclos, even more than sailor of the Great Sea do. A lot of their rituals focus on the Wind Gods.

They have always worshiped Zephos, but Cyclos was lost to time. When they were reminded of his existence, they were horrified that they might have lost more of their culture, but were quick to reinstate Cyclos as a deity, and they do celebrate him now.

Relations

To the Rito as a Tribe, relations to each other are everything. Everyone who is a Rito is connected on some way to the other Rito.

You are defined by your connections to the other Rito. Unless you're the ruler of the Rito, then you are your connections.

You are your mother's daughter - you are the fathger of your son - you are best friend, the partner, the beloved, and they are yours.

As relationships are the biggest way to define who you are as a Rito, it is possible for people who were not born as Rito to be a part of the tribe. There are very few non-species Rito, as they are protective of their identity, but it is possible.

¹This is why Link (Wind) is a Rito. He is defined by his relationships to the Rito: specifically Quill, Medli, and Komali. He is Quill's beloved, and Quill is Link's guardian. He is Medli's mentor, and she is his sage. He is Komali's chosen, and Komali is his partner (komalink truthers rise up).

Feathers are important in defining those relationships. If you are close enough to be defined by a relationship, then you given a feather from the other to keep those relationships.

Most Rito would weave those feathers into their wings, although they would be placed in a way that they could get removed easily. Most Rito only wear their feathers during formal events or festivals, although some wear them at all times.

In Link's case, he has 3 feathers, one from Quill, Medli, and Komali. Link has two feather sets - one which is a loose set of feathers he can braid into his hair, and one in a solid set of 3 which he can place behind his ear.

Language

I did not come up with a full language for the Rito. What I did develop was a base which to base the Rito language off of , and a way to buid off of it in the future as necessary.

One major thing is that the language isn't a full language, for every single word. Another thing they lost in the flood was their language, only bits and pieces of it remaining as they evolved.

What was left was a descriptive language; where words are used to describe larger concepts.

Speaking and Writing in Rito involves using Rito Language and Common/Hylian simultaneously, using words from both to describe full sentences.

The Rito Language itself is a Agglutinative Language. What that means, is that words are formed by merging syllaybles, where every syllable has a unique meaning, and the combinations of syllables make words which are defined by the syllables meanings.

Words tend not to have direct Common/Hylian translations; instead syllables have meanings, and their relationships to each other define concepts.

Concepts and words tend not to exist until invented; they are all based on the same syllables which all share meanings, or different combinations arte invented when needed, and understood when told.

As an example, I'll share the two invented words in my fic - Towaki and Towaveh - divided in syllables as: To, Wa, Ki, and Veh.

To: shortening of Rito

Wa: Love (non-superficial)

Ki: Mine (ownership)

Veh: Theirs (ownership)

Towaki: They are my beloved.

Towaveh: I am their beloved.

Festivals

The two biggest celebrations in Rito Culture are Ballad's Day and Requiems's Day, named after the Wind's Requiem and the Ballad of Gales. The two celebrations are six months apart, and each happen once a year.

Ballad's Day celebrates Cyclos, and Requiem's Day celebrates Zephos. Both festivals consist of three phases.

The first phase is meant for Valoo's attendant and the current Rito ruler. The two ascend Dragon Roost Island and request a scale from Valoo, to give to the Wind Gods in offering.

The second phase has Valoo's attendant, and the upcoming ruler (if one is not born, the current ruler) partaking in a ritual involving a performance of either the Wind's Requiem or the Ballad of Gales to offer the scale to the celebrated deity to ask for favourable winds n front of all of the gathered Rito² (There is nuance as to who is currently involved during Wind Waker's time, which I will explain later)

The third phase is a celebration: Every Rito who can make it for the festivals gather for a large feast. More than the second phase, this is Zephos and Cyclos' favourite part, as it makes them happy to see their worshippers happy.

These two days are some of the only days where almost every Rito comes back to Dragon Roost. These days are the best times to catch up with the various other Rito, as it's the only times all of the Rito see each other.

This aspect of the festival is just as important as the offering to the deities, since their relations to each other are so important, and their need to travel makes it so they can;t see each other often.

²In the Wind Waker's time, the people who participate in the ritual are Komali, Medli, and Link. Komali and Medli are a given, as they're the upcoming ruler and current attendant, but Medli is also the Wind Sage. Her music is powerful magically, and even more so when conducted by Link.

Link's inclusion on the ritual is threefold. He is partially a mentor for Medli, and will help her with her part in the ritual. He is Komali's chosen (komalink truthers rise up), so he is also connected to the upcoming ruler. He is the Hero of Winds, and they are the Wind Gods. Although he wasn't destined to be one from Hylia, he was chosen by Zephos and accepted by Cyclos.

His relations to the Rito involved and the gods make him an important part of the ritual. For Cyclos, he also just wants Link specifically to be there, as he is the one who brought the deity back into the Rito's ritual. Zephos is okay if Link misses the ritual, Cyclos basically requires it.

That's all I have for now! Lemme know what y'all think, if it's good, if this makes sense, or what other HCs y'all have! I love the Rito and would just love to talk more about them!

<3

(also check out my fic here hehe).

[dissentersrising]

hmm. retainers.

actually, let's first talk about the leylines of sornieth. the network of magic running beneath reality that all magic flows through. the world's natural mechanism for cycling magic.

all magic flows from the leylines, returns to the leylines, and is broken down by the shade within so the cycle can start anew.

(as you might have noticed, the leylines and the shade both are the source of many superstitions and misunderstandings, but this isn't about them.)

near-to-all creatures on sornieth are magical in some way, which means that their magic, too, will return to the leylines upon death.

all that is to say that the leylines are the afterlife. purgatory. whatever. which means that every now and then someone will realize this and try to break out. because that is something people will want to do, because a good few people do not want to be dead and/or do not want to simply fade into oblivion. and because that is something you can do, since magic can, in fact, flow out of the leylines.

(which means that you can, in fact, revive someone if you drag them back out but WE'RE TALKING ABOUT RETAINERS HERE.)

retainers aren't actually dragons. they are just kind of... spawned in by purgatory to keep people from breaking out of the afterlife. luckily, they're usually passive. won't bother you if you're just chilling (or, more likely, dying a second time) in purgatory.

they'll beeline for anyone causing trouble though. this includes people trying to break out, people trying to break in, or people who have already broken in and are running around in the leylines while still being very much alive. they will not pursue people out of purgatory, but they will remember and they will come for your ass once you die again.

physically, they're pretty damn big. about the size of a particularly large imperial. they don't have any limbs by default, but they can grow any number of them so one can absolutely have, i don't know, twenty arms if it needs that many. their wings and haloes (for the ones who do have haloes, at least) are not quite solid, but you'll encounter some resistance if you try to touch them.

they can technically be killed if you fight them hard enough, but so long as they retain a connection to purgatory they simply will not stay dead. "killing" one is a pretty tall order in the first place. they're stupidly big, they can channel lightning (not actually lightning- just raw magic. remember, purgatory is inside the leylines) they're able to teleport, and they can straight-up change the geography of purgatory at will. if you want to get out of purgatory, you're better off trying to avoid these things instead.

they seemingly answer to the employers, despite the employers... not actually having created purgatory. still, some of the employers have taken it upon themselves to watch over purgatory and have managed to intertwine their own magic with that of the leylines. as a result, they have some degree of control over both purgatory and its retainers.

anyways out of universe um. hi it's me i'm being insane about madness combat and making fandragons of the most random things. gabriel ultrakill is here because it makes the most sense. he's a retainer now because it's my lore and i get to pick the writing also i use "the leylines" and "purgatory" pretty interchangeably above because they are interchangeable. two names for the same thing. btw sorry i keep drawing things that are not actual flight rising dragons who are actual flight rising breeds. it Will happen again

[starryregard]

the Flight Rising NPCs as Jerma quotes

Tomo: So, you figure anything out in there? 'Nah he's clean, it's back to the drawing board.' Well, that's- uh- that's great. I don't know how to draw, so you're gonna have to do it for me.

Scribbles: [writing on parchment] Absolutly destoryed on red wine, sory guys

Crim: I need that claw. I need that tail. I NEED THAT TOOTH.

Pinkerton: Yeah, I got glasses but I don't really need 'em. I'm just gonna put 'em up there just in case I need to read something… like your number.

Swipp: We're gonna go over these (Funko Pops) one by one and we're gonna talk about if dragons would want them or not, okay? Let's be honest. Chun-Li? [nods] Ding, okay. Ding ding ding. Sure, fine. Ren & Stimpy? [incorrect buzzer noise] No. Half of the people at the Trading Post don't even know what that show is.

Pipp: I will try my hardest to eat one small- a 4x4 piece of plywood.

Tripp: My father is selling this item for one treasure. I mean, let's be real here: at what point do you just burn it?

Roundsey: People just come up to me and give me money, apparently because I remember what they look like.

Baldwin: Like, when you buy yogurt, you know, you can put it in the fridge for a long time. It's preserved! There's organisms that keep that shit alive. It's- I mean the- you could- there's bio… chemical… in there. [pats cauldron] There's biochemical in there.

Galore: You know what fuckin' dragons are supposed to be doing? We're supposed to be fucking picking up a wheelbarrow full of like, treasures and just, like, slowly walking with it and then delivering those treasures to the community… we're not supposed to be like, GIGGITYGIGGITYGIGGITYGIGGITY.

Fiona: [to her roc, Prudence] Okay, wait. Lie down, roll over, claw. Oh, she's so fucking smart! Only my girl!

Arlo: What happened to the dinosaurs, anyway? Did they get extinct? I mean, did they— did they get extinct?

Avery: I can smell you making fun of me. Stop or I'll cry. Stop or I'll cry! STOP OR I'LL CRY!

Glass & Gloss: [singing] One, two, threeeeeee-aaaaaah-ooooooooh. One, two, threeeeeee-aaaaaah-ooooooooh. Hey, do that one again. Eeeeeeeeeeee-

Sage: When in doubt, radish it out.

Arvelle: What's my favorite flavor of gunpowder? Uh, blue raspberry.

Higgins: I feel like I'm the demon in this house. Like, there's a family of seven that lives here, and I don't even see them. I died here like 25 years ago, and I'm just in the house. Opening up the fridge, they hear weird noises from the basement at fuckin' 7 or 8 o' clock.

Marva: This is performance art! You guys don't understand, this is- this is a living painting that you're seeing. Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, they're all dead. I REMAIN, you understand? I REMAIN as a performance artist!

Joxar: I'm not Team Wind, and I'm not Team- uh- Lucas, or whatever it is. I'm Team Merchandise. I'm the guy who- I see what's going on here, and I start designing t-shirts for the eleven flights and make a trillion gems.

Patches: Hey guys. You want me to get drunk on Pirate Week and play with the ship's cannons?

Susie: Bitch I'm going uwu mode?

[dramarising-replacement]

Free art threads.

Made a couple of these in the past, and I'm actually considering just.. not doing them on this site anymore? I actually think I'd be better off doing free art for people on Toyhou.se instead.

Cue the rant.

-------

So I'm sure some of y'all are familiar with the "Creative Corner" in the forums, yeah? You can share random art you've made, ask people how much they'd pay for your art, that sort of thing. Then, you got the free art threads. They can be titled things like "Drawing ur dragons :33" and "bored, draw humans. bye." and you'll also see the same couple users posting in those threads, but I'm not here to name-drop lol.

The ones who I have a problem with are the ones who don't read anything. Like, at all. You could spend thirty minutes crafting a decent looking thread, filled with information (but not TOO much, just enough to answer most people's questions) and highlight the "rules" part of your thread that has specific steps to follow for free art. Wanna know what the majority of the commentors on your thread are gonna do?

"[Insert dragon image] Pls draw :)" or "[Link to a page with over 60+ dragons] choose whatever one you want.]" and that's about it. There won't be any mention of any steps you wanted them to follow, (The steps are usually very simple, too. As in, let the artist know the bare minimum idea of what you want. I'm talking about expressions here. That's literally all they'd have to do to get some scrumptious free art.) and that feels kinda invalidating, y'know?

I'm not asking the commentors to describe a whole scene for me, I'm just asking them to give me ONE LITTLE IDEA (again, an expression or maybe if they want a bust) and I'll do the rest for them, free of charge. The art that they'd be getting isn't some random disaster of a sketch, nono, it's fully-colored and shaded. It also doesn't look like something that a 5 year old drew. (No shade to people who draw like that, I was stuck like that for years.) Bro, just do a MINIMAL amount of reading and I'll draw your dragon that has an absurd amount of apparel to tje point where it hurts my eyes.

..It doesn't just stop there, either. I've also seen these people never reply to artists who have given them an absolute masterpiece of a drawing, for free. Bro. You serious? I get that some people are inactive, which I'm not bothered by. But the ones who aren't? ...Ehh, I just think you could at least thank the artist before returning to the void with your free art.

The moral of the story is; Do the bare minimum and read what matters in a post, and thank the artists who draw your dragons for free. Especially the ones who could've easily charged you 1kg+ for the work they've done.

If you're socially awkward, then cool. I get that. If you can't afford to pay artists with fictional pixel money, then go ahead and visit the free art threads. I'm not trying to gate-keep them, I literally make these threads. I just don't enjoy having people put zero effort in their requests and then never acknowledge the fact that I drew their dragon for them. Just my thoughts, everyone views things differently and that's okay!

---

Btw, I mentioned Toyhou.se because I've posted on both before, and while there are SOME similarities in the users' behavior, there's also some notable differences, too.

Common flight rising free art thread comment: [doesnt read text and adds dragon image] thanks if you draw.

Common Toyhou.se free art thread comment: [links a character, goes into a VERY in-depth explanation about how said character acts, very passionate too. Usually reads rules, too.] Thanks if you draw. (gotta stay consistent lol)

Obviously there are some differences in the sites which affect how the users act, I get that. One's a literal dragon collecting game and the other one's focused on writing and drawing characters, it's expected that one would read more than the other.

...But again, free art. Not paid, but free. Someone takes time out of their day to draw your dragon. Just give them a simple "thanks" and go on your merry way. That's all you gotta do. Lets them know their effort was appreciated, and shows that you're a nice person. Win-win.

Please man, just read. Did I mention that these threads usually have a maximum of 100 words? I don't usually type this much. But damn, this just irritated me so much.

Well, that's the end of this rant. Like I said, a few people are obviously going to disagree with some/maybe everything I've said, and that's life. This was a disorganized rant, and that's all it's going to be.

[sumakha]

another NEW OC (but not really i made this guy 3 years ago) ALERT!!! everyone please welcome surissesh. or dont because he sucks (read below the cut to find out why!)

surissesh is the royal advisor for king iunekitann of annoshik, and part of the story i mentioned here. currently hes... kind of a one-note character, just some megalomaniac who wants power for power's sake and double-crosses everyone he works with in order to ascend to the throne. i will probably add more Meat to him character-wise later on though, since he is the main villain.

however he is not the only new character here as you can see. on the left scene in the second pic we have keyopha, the leader of iuraph. she recruited surissesh to assassinate king iunekitann, then manipulate his son kontekitann into giving control of gnemmia to iuraph. gnemmia has a lot of fertile land and a mountain range with a LOT of magic crystals growing inside it, so the three major powers of sumakha (annoshik, iuraph, and janggok) all want control over it. she gave surissesh the magic weapon he's brandishing in the first pic in order to kill the king and threaten the rest of the royal family/staff into compliance, while also having one of her own men follow surissesh to make sure that if he used the weapon for his own gain, he would be killed on the spot. unfortunately for her, surissesh isn't an idiot, and by the time he Does start using the weapon for himself, keyopha's men are already dealt with.

gnemmia is a highly sought-after territory... with people already living there, who don't like being occupied. the rebel group (whose individual members don't have names yet bc these are even OLDER ocs that i rebooted so they need to be reworked) were mostly dedicated to taking out annoshiki outposts in gnemmia one-by-one until they started working with surisessh. their plan was to have surisessh help them get into the palace to assassinate the king, then kill him immediately and occupy the palace themselves as part of freeing gnemmia. right when their assassin (the ketvidae in the pic) has finished killing the king, he turns his blade on surissesh, but surissesh reveals keyopha's weapon and completely blasts his head off. while the rebels did plan for surissesh fighting back, they hadn't planned for him having a weapon of this caliber, leaving them scrambling for a new strategy.

while surissesh could have likely risen to power just through intimidation, he justifies his uprising by claiming to be an agent of kennemikannosh, the patron deity of annoshik. i will probably make a different lore post about kennemikannosh in the future, but for now, all you need to know is that it looks like this ⬇️ and that annoshik is a divine monarchy, so surissesh's claim of being a prophet is taken seriously.

OKAY that's all the lore i really want to write out today. after finals (or as a break from studying for them LOL) i will finally do a bullet point outline of this story so its not all in my brain. and i'll see if i can actually figure out a name for it. also shoutout to my flight rising dragon ghirahim (and also the original ghirahim from loz skyward sword) he was a big inspiration for surissesh's design :-)

[saywha413]

Heyyy there it’s me!! Name’s Sarah, he/she/they! Bi, ace, demiromantic, and genderqueer :) I primarily blog abt pokemon, but there’s some cookie run, and other things!!

If you know me from discord, then you’ll know abt my silly usernames lol. If you want to call me Arven/Hugh/Felix/Kaeya go ahead.

i am the mod several blogs! All of which are in the same universe!

Pokemon Ask Blogs @ask-sarah-and-co 💎🎸 (inbox: 22)

Pokemon Irl Blogs @arven-x-drayster-4ever🥪🐉 (most active)

@icy-chill ❄️ (eeby/faller, middling active)

@pens-and-coins 🔮🪙 (lore blog, middling activity)

@silvallyandweavile 🌘🪶 (middling activity)

@g-max-wildfire 🎇 (less active)

@suckerpunch-n-toxic 🎶 (less active)

Although I’d prefer questions on those blogs specifically, feel free to ask about them here too :)

I have a whole bunch of pokemon ships, so here’s a list (which I update every once in a while)

and if you’re looking for the old pinned (where I drew 12 ships) that’s here :) (individual drawings here)

here’s my old banner! linking to save for myself mostly lol

art tag is #my art! writing tag is #my writing.

random links: ao3 / toyhouse / pinterest / pokefarm / flight rising (I am very inactive on pokefarm and flight rising. I only check occasionally)

Interests!

Major! (I talk/think about them a lot)

Pokemon (games + anime (kinda? not fully caught up on it))

Cookie run (kingdom)

Mythology (specifically Greek, but I like all of them!)

Cats. generally.

Cassette beasts (I am insane abt this rn)

Minor! (I do post about them, just not as much!)

Fire emblem (three houses)

Dislyte

Monster hunter (stories (2))

Dragon quest (xi)

Zelda (botw/totk)

Animal crossing (new horizons)

Background! (I do like these things, just don’t rlly talk abt them! Feel free to ask abt them though?)

Hades (farthest I’ve gotten is elysium)

Mario

The owl house (and the shows you would kinda associate with it? amphibia, the ghost and molly mcgee, she-ra, etc)

Encanto

Miitopia

riordanverse or whatever it’s called (specifically pjo, hoo, and magnus chase)

Grishaverse (specifically soc duology)

Unicorn overlord

“Dead” interests (I had big phases of them but I’m not as into them now. if that makes sense. Same as tier above- you can still ask about them)

mlp

Ever after high

Wings of fire

Hamilton

if we are besties, feel free to ask for discord/switch friend code! I have the right to politely decline if we’re not close enough though!

basic dni! you know who you are

divider credit: x / x icon credit: x

[sydsrichie]

'til queendom come, ch. 6

[masterlist] [Ao3] [playlist]

aemond targaryen x targaryen oc

wordcount: 11,116

ch. 6, storm's end: then the storm broke, and the dragons danced.

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), spoilers for HoTD/F&B

a/n: please don't hate me for this one :) or if you do hate me, at least write me an ask telling me how you hate me so I can amuse myself with it :)

SPOILER WARNING: this chapter is where the spoilers for the books start! Unsullied, ye be warned!

The next days seemed to hold all the tension of a strung bow. 

Prince Daemon had the castle garrison and even the dragonkeepers drilling in the yard, and Lord Corlys joined his wife at the war table. After some persuasion and a count of dragons and dragonriders, the Velaryons formally joined their Queen’s cause, and it all started to feel very real very fast.

Later in the morning, Jace and Luke would be taking flight, the elder to the Eyrie and Winterfell, the younger to Storm’s End.

At sunrise, however, Sena found herself on the battlements of Dragonstone, looking out across the bay. She could not sleep. Out there, over the horizon, was the family who had raised her. Helaena and her precious babes, whom Sena had only held once. Queen Alicent. The so-called Aegon II. And Aemond.

Aemond, who loved her. Aemond, who had called her a coward. And what was this, if not cowardice? Not knowing which way to turn, only knowing she wanted to run. Rhaenyra was the rightful Queen, Sena knew it in her bones. It had been the King’s wish - her dear, sweet uncle. And more than that, Rhaenyra was born to be Queen. She had all the qualities and training of a good ruler. She could be hard and soft, steel and silk. It was a balance that Sena admired, and one she was unable to strike herself.

Sena looked down and scrubbed her hands over her face in frustration - at her family, at herself. Could she get nothing right? She was forceful at all the wrong moments and then much too soft in the moments where she needed her strength. She felt herself being jerked around on a string by every member of this family and she felt powerless to stop it.

She sighed and leaned her forehead against her hands, willing the cool granite wall she leaned against to sap some of the restlessness from her exhausted body. She could not even fret properly, it seemed, her mind clouded with sleeplessness.

“It is a good place to think, is it not?”

Sena startled. She dipped into a deep curtsey. “Your Grace,” she said, keeping her eyes locked on the ground so as to avoid Queen Rhaenyra’s gaze.

“Rise,” her stepmother said, and Sena followed her command. “It seems I am not the only one in the castle who cannot find sleep.”

Sena shrugged as the Queen came to stand beside her, clothed in a simple black gown, hair unadorned except for a silver-blonde braid over one shoulder. “I just… didn’t believe it would come to this, my queen. Maybe that makes me a fool, like everyone says. I always knew there was a chance that Queen Alicent and Aegon… I just couldn’t live in a world where we would end up doing this to each other.”

Rhaenyra nodded solemnly. “I cannot say that makes you a fool, because I wanted to believe it too,” she sighed. “But believe me when I say I will do everything in my power to prevent this from turning to bloodshed. I no more want to turn dragon against dragon than I want to send my boys to war. I have already lost one child to this treachery,” she laid a hand on her still-swollen stomach, and Sena could see the pain that still pulled at her with every step. “I will not lose another.”

Sena sighed. She believed Rhaenyra would do all that was in her power, she just did not know if that was enough.

The Queen turned her gaze on her. “Why do you stay, Sena?”

“My queen?”

“You do not need to lie, not to me. You have no great love or loyalty to my husband. You cherish the young ones, yes, but they cannot rival the affection you have for my own brother and sister. And we both know I have been guilty of moving you about the board like a pawn in the past.”

The list of people who hadn’t used her as a pawn would be shorter at this point, so Sena could not hold it against her. “I swore obeisance to you, my queen.”

Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow. “That is a politician’s answer. Saying something without really saying anything,” she said. “The Dragonmont is not guarded day and night, you could take your dragon and go anywhere you like. King’s Landing, Dorne, Essos… what makes you stay?”

Sena considered the question properly for a moment. Why was she here? The Summer Isles, the Free Cities, further east to shadowy lands she had only ever read about - they all called her name. All she would have to do was mount Grey Ghost and chart her course east. She sighed. Why was she still here? “Someone needs to stop this family from bringing about its own extinction.” She said it more to herself than the Queen, but Rhaenyra bowed her head anyway. Whether it was shame or fear, Sena had no clue.

There was the sound of a door opening behind them and Maester Gerardys stepped out into the brisk morning air, his arms already laden down with rolls of parchment. “Your Grace, my lady,” he said, performing the appropriate bowing and scraping before handing over the papers. “Replies from Lords Massey and Celtigar, your Grace. A report on the training of the guard, and best estimates on the men we can count on rallying to our aid, should an attack come.”

Something dangerously like hope twinged in Sena as she eyed the papers in his arms. “Anything for me, maester?”

Gerardys looked caught off guard and surveyed the papers in his arms, as if he’d already forgotten she was there. “Er… oh yes! One here, my lady.”

He handed over a scroll with a broken seal and Sena unravelled it in haste, only for her heart to fall when she saw the header. “Oh.” It was only a bill from her seamstress for her new winter dresses. She would pass it on to her father’s steward to be paid.

The Queen was focused on the letters of the Lords she was hoping to rally to her cause. “Your Grace, I will take my leave of you so you might continue your work,” Sena said, bowing her head.

Rhaenyra nodded absently. “Thank you, my lady.”

Sena retreated, feeling no lighter than she had when she’d come up here.

She was in such a daze, her mind churning so quickly she nearly walked straight into Jace and Luke on the stairs. They were in their riding clothes, wearing heavy cloaks. “Sorry,” she mumbled, sidestepping them.

“We’re just about to leave,” Jace told her with a tight smile. He looked like he wasn’t sleeping well either. 

“Of course,” she said, pinching her nose. How could she forget? “Safe travels. Don’t let Vermax and Arrax fly you into any migrating geese.”

Luke grinned at her, though he looked a little nervous. It was understandable, she guessed. It was a big journey and a heavy responsibility for one so young. “I shall be back in no time, I reckon. Mother says it is not a terribly long journey.”

“It is not,” she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Just a leap across the bay, you’ve flown similar distances before. And your mother, your betrothed and I will await your return, to give you a hero’s welcome.” That made him blush as she turned on Jace. “And you, I know Lord Stark is ages with you, but I trust you won’t get up to any hooliganism with him-“

“I’m not a hooligan-“

She arched a teasing eyebrow. “Mhm. That’s what they all say. Just remember, you’re the Prince of Dragonstone, our future King. Come back safe.” With that, she pressed a kiss to his brow, then to Luke’s, who made a show of wriggling away from her with typical adolescent disgust. She laughed as they went on their way.

Jace paused and turned back to her. “If I see Lord Royce at the Eyrie,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “I’ll tell him our sister wants her castle back.”

Sena grinned, shaking her head at him and watching until they were out of sight. 

She spent the rest of the early hours of the morning in the training yard, desperate to rid her mind of some frenetic energy and get her blood pumping. But it seemed even her most time-honoured methods of calming herself down were evading her. All she could see on the training dummy was Aegon’s wispy hair, Ser Criston’s white cloak, Aemond’s eyepatch. All men she might have to meet on the battlefield before long.

She gave up when she overbalanced in a strike and her boot skidded in the mud, sending her to her arse. Not even a real opponent and she had still ended up dead. She groaned and threw her sword down. Seven Hells. At least her father was too wrapped up in his warmongering to have witnessed it.

She returned to her rooms to change out of her sullied breeches, picking up the dress she’d discarded on the floor earlier with a sigh. The letter Maester Gerardys had given her that morning fluttered out of the pocket, another menial task for her to busy herself with. She cast it down on her writing desk along with her other letters and was about to go back to changing when something caught her eye.

The bill had landed next to Aemond’s last letter to her, the one he’d sent before her journey to King’s Landing. And… the handwriting was similar.

Too similar. She picked them both up and squinted at them.

Aemond’s handwriting was as meticulous and controlled as he would have people believe him to be, and he crossed his ‘Z’s and his sevens. And the bill itself…

5 yards of Qartheen silk, sapphire blue.

She did not own such a gown, and it would be ridiculous to order one for winter at any rate.

For a second, she just stared at the invoice and the letter, side by side, trying to figure out what it could mean.

She scanned the writing for anything strange. Flipped the parchment over. Blank on the backside. Was she going mad? So lost in stress and longing she was seeing him everywhere?

Something itched, deep in her memory.

“I actually read something the other night about an invisible ink. We could write to each other with it and only the other will know how to make it appear!”

“Invisible ink? How?”

With a gasp, she held the parchment out over one of the pillar candles that lit the recesses of her room, watching the blank side with a sickening anxiousness.

The heat from the candle spread under the parchment, making the corners curl, and brown lettering began to appear. Her heart leapt. “Aemond,” she whispered.

My love,

I have no clue if this will work and no assurance that you will even remember a conversation between children some four-and-ten years ago, but I had to try. 

I am so sorry. So sorry for everything I said that last night in the Red Keep, for putting you in this position between our two families. And I am so sorry for what I must tell you now.

My king has commanded me to Storm’s End, where I will win House Baratheon to our cause by pledging my own hand in marriage to one of Lord Borros’s daughters.

I have always loved you, Sena, and I fear I will until my dying day. My only hope is that in letting you go, I will make your choice easier for you. Run if you can. Fight if you must. Just know that wherever you are and whatever you do, my heart is yours.

A.

“Oh,” she breathed. Oh.

She knew. She knew they would not be married now. She knew they were over, finished, a distant memory. They could not fight on opposite sides of this war and hold on for each other. Especially not Aemond, whose hand in marriage was as fine a boon as the greens had to offer. She never expected it to be so soon, though. It was a gut punch. It had not been a moon’s turn since he kissed her sweetly and told her he loved her, and now he was to fly to Storm’s End and claim a bride-

Storm’s End.

A blind panic climbed Sena’s throat and it was all she could do not to scream. The letter slipped from her hand and caught fire in the flame but she did not care. It could burn to ash on the flagstones, she had to go and go now.

Still in her training gear, she grabbed her cloak and flew out of the room, taking off down the hall at breakneck speed. There was no time. She could not even think on the Prince’s words, she could not begin to let herself feel what they meant, she only knew she had to get to Storm’s End now.

If their last visit to King’s Landing had made anything clear, it was that Aemond had spent the years since his eye was gouged out honing his rage like a weapon.

And that meant Luke was in danger.

Sena raced down the steps and into the great hall. She rounded the corner to go out to the yard - and clashed headlong into Rhaena.

“Sena!” The girl shrieked, holding her arms out to steady her sister. “What’s gotten into you?”

Sena tried to pull away but Rhaena held on. “I don’t have time to explain, Rhaena! Get father, get your grandmother, anyone you can, tell them to follow me to Storm’s End!”

Rhaena gaped at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Aemond will be there when Luke arrives!”

Rhaena blanched. “Gods,” she swore, and it struck Sena as an odd thing to hear coming from her youngest sister’s lips. Then they took off in separate directions at a run.

Sena sprinted out into the yard and thanked all the Gods that the gates were open to allow a shipment of food in. The guards were too stunned to stop her as she stripped past them. The Dragonmont was close now, and she followed the path to Grey Ghost’s cavern that she would have known in her sleep.

The half-blind grey dragon was already on high alert when she got to him, that peculiar thing in their bond that let him feel her own emotions at work. There was no time to saddle him - Luke already had an hour’s lead on her - so it would have to be like their first time flying together, then. They were both a little bigger than they had been then, but she trusted him. She clambered onto his back, wrapped her arms around his neck, and they were off. Grey Ghost prowled forward, following the dark cavern he knew by heart out of the Dragonmont. When Sena felt fresh air on her face, she commanded him “Sōvēs!” Fly!

Grey Ghost surged into the air with a mighty beat of his wings. As they climbed into the air above Dragonstone, she strained to see if she could spot anyone white haired following her to the Dragonmont. Hurry, she thought. Hurry. I don’t know if I can do this alone.

The morning sun cast the sky in a beautiful light, but as she guided Grey Ghost south, grey clouds loomed on the horizon. She gritted her teeth. She could not lose the sun. She had never been to Storm’s End in her life, could only point to it on a map. It was roughly equidistant to Dragonstone as King’s Landing, just in a more southernly direction, on the coast of the Narrow Sea. If Aemond had the chance to hurt Luke because she had not paid enough attention in her geography lessons-

There was no use even thinking about that, she thought firmly. Grey Ghost was a lot bigger than Arrax, his wingspan could make up for lost time.

Her arms were cramping already and she adjusted her position, settling back onto Grey Ghost as she would if she had a saddle. She clutched at the ridges of his spine and settled in for the ride. She kept looking back to see if any other dragons had joined her, but she could not make out any, and soon she would not be able to see far for the cloud cover. It looked like she may well be on her own.

South and ever so slightly west, Sena did her best to keep her bearing without the sun to guide her as the miles disappeared beneath Grey Ghost’s wings and Blackwater Bay gave way to more southernly waters. With every second, minute, hour ticking by, Sena’s heart thrummed in her chest, her stomach churning with nerves. Let her not be too late. Whatever Gods were listening, she begged them to hear her. 

Then, true to their name, the skies above the Stormlands grew tempestuous. There was a far off rumble of thunder. Hope and dread mixed in equal parts inside her. Maybe Luke had not even made it to Storm’s End? Maybe Arrax had grown fearful and turned around, navigating back to safety, away from the storm. 

Or maybe he had been struck down by a stray bolt of lightning.

The first droplets of rain stung Sena’s cheeks. She looked down past Grey Ghost’s wings and racked her brains. A large isle sprawled out to her left. Could it be Tarth? That meant that the bay below her was Shipbreaker Bay, so Storm’s End was due south-west. The visibility was poor - the spitting rain had turned into a downpour - but she thought she could make out the ancient keep dating back to the Age of Heroes, standing in defiance against the wind and waves.

The clouds encroached and the rain was pouring down. Grey Ghost howled in distress. He was flying blind in this weather and the wind was throwing him around. She was both of their eyes now, she thought dully. The Gods had a sick sense of humour.

Just when she was about to give up and land Grey Ghost further up the coast - she would have a better chance reaching Storm’s End alive on foot in this weather - a sudden blast of flame caught her eye. Dragon flame. “Bē! Paktot!” She commanded, and Grey Ghost loyally obeyed despite his distress, curving his path up and to the right. I’m so sorry, she longed to tell him, I’m so sorry for scaring you like this. But she didn’t. She would tell him when she got them both out of this alive.

She could make out Arrax now, a small shape, rising high into the clouds. Thank the Gods, she thought, and commanded Grey Ghost after him. If Arrax was alright, there was a chance. A chance that Luke was alive and clinging to his back.

Light burst across Sena’s field of vision as they broke the cloud cover, and Grey Ghost screeched at the sudden brightness. She blinked rapidly, and ahead of her she saw a small figure on Arrax’s back, twisting at the sound of Grey Ghost’s screech.

“Sena?” Came a faint cry on the wind, from a familiar boyish voice.

“Luke!” Sena screamed in reply, relief crashing over her like a tidal wave. He was okay! He was alive. Gods be good, he was alive.

“No! Run!” He was shouting back to her, barely audible, and the relief she felt melted away as she took in his and his dragon’s panic.

If Luke was okay… what had Arrax been breathing fire at?

That was when the largest dragon she had ever seen broke through the clouds.

Time slowed. Arrax was in distress, flapping his wings violently to stay aloft on the thin air. She could hear a familiar voice mounted on the newcomer howling commands, commands she knew like the back of her hand, but the ancient beast gave no sign that they had been heard.

Luke was not looking, too distracted by her presence.

In some small way, she was glad of that. Glad she could save him the fear before the end.

It felt like a thousand years, but it was all over in a heartbeat.

“No!” A scream ripped free of her throat as she watched Vhagar’s jaws close around the youngling dragon. Arrax’s wing drifted on the breeze, no longer attached to a body. 

There was nothing left of Luke.

Grey Ghost roared and let free a blast of flame in his distress, banking rapidly out of Vhagar’s path, back down into the clouds. Sena’s arms screamed at the sudden turn and she threw herself down onto her dragon’s neck, rain battering their bodies as they fell down, down, anywhere but into Vhagar’s jaws. Grey Ghost was practically sightless again in the dark and the lashing rain, and Sena was numb all over. Could not think or act or even breathe. She heard Vhagar’s roar and knew the beast was descending too, closing in on them. They needed to change paths now, before she met the same fate as her poor little brother.

She could see the water rising up to meet her, and she commanded Grey Ghost to swerve flat. They were low over the bay now, the cliffs were rising around them on all sides and only one of them could see where they were going.

That was when a furnace blast blew past her. Her cloak caught alight and before she could unclasp it, it was singeing into the back of her legs and Grey Ghost’s scales. She screamed in agony and Grey Ghost panicked, banking again, flying this way and that, desperate to get out of Vhagar’s sights.

They got so turned around that she could not even see Vhagar or the bay or anything anymore, lost in the storm with the senseless turns they had taken. Then, right at the last second, lightning flashed and Sena caught sight of the jagged cliffs that rose above Shipbreaker Bay. Dead ahead. So close, there was no time, no time to command Grey Ghost to turn, no time to do anything but-

Let go.

She let go.

She closed her eyes, but even the wind howling past her ears could not drown out the sickening crunch as the blind dragon collided headlong with the cliff.

Sena’s body hit the water with force and she collided with the rocks at the base of the cliff, hidden just under the sea foam. White hot agony ripped through her side, knocking the air from her lungs. She surfaced, gasping for air and not being able to draw any as the icy cold water buffeted her from side to side, scraping her limbs over the razor sharp rocks surrounding her on all sides. She was lost and helpless, barely able to tell which way was up and then the water was surging over her head as her dragon fell into the waves.

Her dragon. Her Grey Ghost.

She kicked to the surface, choking out a lungful of salt water. Her throat burned. She tried to move but the pain in her left arm where she had hit the rocks made her vision swim. She pushed her right arm through the cold. She had to get to him, she thought weakly. He could still be alive. He could still be-

Water crashed over her head and she reached out blindly, gripping at bone and membrane. She dragged herself forward. Her throat was raw, her lungs on fire. She pulled herself up onto his wing with her good arm.

Grey Ghost did not try to resist the rolling of the waves. He just… lay there on the surface. Wings splayed. Head twisted at a wrong angle. Dead.

The broken girl let out a scream. 

Overhead, a dragon roared.

-----

“Sena!"

“Sena? Sena!”

She did not know how long she had been in the water. Her limbs were numb and she could feel the hard scales of a dragon beneath her cheek. The swaying of the waves had somehow stopped. Had they washed ashore? The sound of her name and distant, hurried footfall. The whicker of a dragon, salt on her lips. She tried to lift her head.

“Don’t move. Stay still,” the voice, a man’s voice commanded. She was more than willing to listen. Every bone and every muscle felt like it had been wrenched out of place. She’d never move again if she didn’t have to.

It was quieter, now. No howling wind or lashing rain. The waves had reduced from a torrent to a crash on the sand. “It’s alright,” the man’s voice said. He was getting closer. “I’ve got you.”

There were hands on her upper arms, attempting to roll her over, but the second any pressure went onto her left arm, she let out an agonised scream. “No! No!” She begged. Her voice sounded broken in her ears.

“Fuck,” the voice swore. “Oh, my girl."

The man stepped back, leaving her blissfully alone. Then another voice joined the fray, a woman’s this time. “You need to move her. We can’t be here and we still need to find Lucerys.”

The man grumbled and stepped up to her once more. “I’m sorry, Sena, but we need to go.”

She screamed as her broken arm shifted. The pain was like nothing she’d ever felt before. Her stomach heaved, her vision spotted, then all she could see was white. She could have been out for seconds or hours, there was no way of telling. But then she felt the sway of the man’s gait, felt his feet struggling through sand, and she knew she was no longer sprawled out on the corpse of her oldest friend. Her left arm was placed over her chest and she was being cradled to a man’s leather jerkin. She slowly opened one eye, squinting against the glare of daylight, willing her head to stop rolling, and her heart lurched in her chest. Her eyes caught on silver blonde hair and she struck out with her good arm against her captor’s chest. “No! No! Get off of me! Get off of me!” She struggled in his grip and the man stumbled in the sand, nearly dropping her.

“Sena!” He shouted as she rolled dangerously in his arms and he fought to stop himself pitching over. “Sena, it’s me!” She looked up. Two eyes looked back at her instead of one, and they were deep purple like her own. “Sena,” Prince Daemon murmured. He pulled her into his chest and steadied himself. “It’s me. It’s Dad.” 

She was crying. She was so glad to see him. She let her head loll in the crook of his arm, seeking the warmth of his body, the familiar scent of his jerkin. “You’re riding Caraxes with me,” he told her, regaining his footing and struggling on through the sand. “I’m taking you home. Rhaenys will stay to search for Lucerys.”

Luke.

“Oh no,” she moaned. Fresh tears sprang from her eyes.

“Sena? What is it?”

It hurt when she breathed, like the inside of her ribcage bore metal spikes that pierced her lungs. “Luke,” she mumbled, pressing her face into her father’s chest, trying to hide. If she could just hide… but she could hear Luke’s shouts ringing in her ears, see what was left of Arrax tumbling through the sky when she shut her eyes. If she had not been there, if she had not distracted him at the crucial moment, would he have lived? “Luke. I couldn’t save him, Father. I couldn’t…”

Daemon stumbled in the sand, jostling her painfully. “What?” He asked, confused.

“Vhagar,” she said. “It was Vhagar.”

“I…” Prince Daemon was lost for words, for the first time she could remember. “We… all that’s washed up is you and Grey Ghost, love. Not him, not Arrax. Are you sure? Are you sure they didn’t get away?”

There were hot tears on her cheeks and she nodded weakly. “There won’t be a body,” she croaked, and she could hear her voice breaking. “There’s nothing left.”

The look on Daemon’s face was shocked. Bleak. He stood there for a moment, the high wind on the beach whipping his hair around him, cradling his eldest daughter to his chest. His expression went grim. “Cousin,” he barked. Sena winced at the loud sound.

Further up the beach, the voice of Princess Rhaenys sounded again. “What is it?”

“We’re not going to find Lucerys,” he said. “There’s nothing left to find.”

-----

Sena had only brief periods of consciousness to mark the passing of time.

There were a lot of solemn faces. And the crying - the crying was endless. She would open her eyes and see Joffrey sniffling at her bedside, or her father staring at her limp form from the doorway. Rhaena slipping a brush through her curls. Baela seemed to rarely leave, more often than not curled up asleep on a seat in the corner.

It was only when the grasp of the milk of the poppy slipped and she was able to move that she realised her arm was bound and splinted from elbow to wrist. She groaned, the pain dimmed somewhat in her drugged state but still there. Baela sat up in a hurry. “Rhaena!” She called.

Sena raised her other arm in a placating manner. “Shhhh,” she rasped. Her head felt fit to burst. The arm she raised to placate Baela was blue, green, yellow and mottled. Seven hells. “Let me die in peace, would you?”

Baela glared at her. “Not funny, Sena.”

Rhaena must have been standing guard at the door or something, as she flew into the room in an instant. “What’s wrong? Is she alright?” The younger twin asked.

Baela jerked her head at Sena. “Don’t ask me, ask her.”

“Sena!” A look of pure relief was on Rhaena’s face as she dashed to her sister’s side. She fell to her knees and took Sena’s good hand in hers.

“Sister, please,” Sena croaked, “keep your voice down.”

“Maybe we should get the Maester? She could get more relief for the pain,” Rhaena said to her twin.

“She is right here,” Sena grumbled.

Baela scoffed. “That’s the last thing we should do. The Maesters have had her knocked out cold for a week. Let her at least figure out what day it is. Or what continent she’s on.”

“A week?” Sena said, moving to sit up. Her bedroom swam dangerously before her eyes and Baela jumped forward to grab her by the shoulders.

“Rhaena! Her pillows!”

Rhaena reached behind her and fixed her pillows, then the twins helped her lean her weight back against the headboard in a more upright position. “A week?” She said again, weakly.

Rhaena wrung her hands. “Maester Gerardys said it was the best thing for you. You could barely move a muscle without crying, Sena.”

“Hmm,” Sena hummed. She hadn’t much memory of what happened after Grey Ghost… and Luke, she thought weakly. “Rhaena. I’m sorry.”

Rhaena brushed her hair back from her forehead. “Whatever for, sister?”

“I didn’t… he’s dead,” she let out a breath and fresh tears brimmed in her eyes.

Rhaena squeezed her hand, her own eyes swimming. “Oh, Sena,” she said.

“It’s not your fault,” Baela spoke up from the corner, her voice sounding cold.

Sena shook her head. “I got that letter before he even left,” she mumbled, “if I hadn’t been wallowing in my own self-pity, I would have worked it out sooner-“

Baela scowled at her. “It was the Queen who sent him. Jace chose to go North, not South. Grandmother and I are both dragonriders and did not volunteer to go for Luke or with him. Would you blame us?”

“No-“

“Then why do you blame yourself?” She asked with an edge of steel in her voice. “Why not blame the one person who you could actually blame for this?”

“Baela,” Rhaena cautioned, letting go of Sena to turn and glare at her twin. “Now isn’t the time.”

Baela scoffed. “No, Rhaena, I’ve had enough of it. It not now, when? He killed Luke, Sena. He nearly killed you. If father and grandmother hadn’t arrived, he might have damn well finished the job,” Baela said.

Sena’s head swam. Her stomach dropped like a stone. “Wait, what happened? After I fell? Is Aemond-“ the word caught in her throat.

“Alive,” Baela gritted out. The air rushed out of Sena with relief. “Turned tail and ran as soon as he saw Caraxes and Meleys. The craven.”

“Baela, stop. We don’t need to do this right now,” Rhaena said, sending a glare at her twin. “She needs rest, not a lecture.”

Baela shook her head at her sisters but sat down again. “Leave her to rest, then. Go,” she told Rhaena, her tone still icy cold. “I’ll watch her.”

“You’ve been here for days,” Rhaena retorted. “When did you last sleep in a bed? Or change your clothes?”

Baela shot her own glare back at her twin as she settled herself back into her armchair in the corner of Sena’s room. “My clothes are fine and I cannot fucking sleep anyway so there’s no use trying,” she snapped. “Go on then, if you want her to rest. Leave us.”

Rhaena scowled but got to her feet, saying no more. She looked back at Sena and gave her her best comforting smile. She refilled the glass of water on Sena’s nightstand then slipped out of the room with one last glare at her twin.

When the door clicked shut, Sena turned her unfocused gaze on her sister. Of the three of them, Baela was most like Daemon. She had one leg tucked up onto the chair with her and the other swung and flicked like the tail of a foul-tempered cat. “You should be kinder to her,” Sena chided in her roughened voice. “She’s a good child. Sweet.”

“So was Luke,” Baela said and pulled her leg back up onto her chair so she could hug her knees to her chest. “Look what it got him.”

Sena leaned back against her pillows and let out a pained breath.

She had nothing to say to that.

-----

Sena refused the milk of the poppy as often as she could. The only thing she detested more than the pain was the unsteadiness, the cloudiness. It made her head roll like she was back out at sea, clinging to Grey Ghost’s corpse. It was nauseating.

The birds and sea creatures would be picking at his body right now, she thought. The steady rot would let them pull aside his scales and they would feast on her oldest friend. She could not find it in her to begrudge them that. In some strange way, it’s maybe what he would have wanted, being given back to the animals he had hunted all his days. After all, when she died, a dragon would light her funeral pyre in the tradition of her house. It only seemed right, after spending a lifetime mastering the will of a dragon that her body be taken from the world by one.

Mastering the will of a dragon… what had truly gone on in the skies above Storm’s End? She found she was too cloudy and the thought of Luke’s death was too painful to discern it. She had heard shouting, commands bellowed in the tongue of her forebears. She knew Aemond’s voice about as well as she knew her own, at this point. But what had truly happened? And what reason could Luke have given Aemond to do such a thing and bring a war down upon his head? For that was what this meant, she knew with grim certainty. And not just his head, but Helaena’s, his mother’s, Aegon and Daeron, the twins, Maelor - everyone he professed to love. Had she truly overestimated him all this time? The past had left deep scars on Aemond, physically and mentally. It had made him volatile, sometimes downright cruel, she had seen that for herself. But could he truly do something so vile with no discernible cause, at such a cost to himself? Could he kill a child?

Baela had taken to haunting the corner of her room less as she gained lucidity, but the girl would have wrung Sena’s neck if she could hear her thoughts right now. After everything that had happened, was she truly still trying to find a way to excuse him, to love him? Shouldn’t it be enough for her that he had cast her aside and agreed to wed another as soon as his brother asked him to? That would have been enough to most sane and sensible people, to see they were not wanted. But his letter… his letter.

I have always loved you and I fear I will until my dying day.

She was beginning to fear it too, that there was nothing he could do that would wipe away the memory of the round-cheeked and wickedly clever little boy he had been. How, at cost to his family, he had been by her side and saw something worthy in her when almost no-one else had. The kind man who doted on his sister, brought toys and played at battles with his niece and nephew. He was the apple of his mother’s eye and still somehow managed to be his elder brother’s only friend in the world. The smiles he kept just for her - not smirks full of secrecy and malice but genuine smiles, and he would laugh that boyish laugh of his and kiss her in rooms where anyone might catch them.

Some days when she lay in bed, the battering her body had taken seemed to pale in comparison to the turbulence in her mind. A gaping black hole of grief and all the things she could not reconcile with it, things she dare not take too close to it for the fear that they might get swallowed up too.

There came a point one morning where even the protestations of her body were not enough to keep her in that room any longer. The black thoughts lurked under her bed, in her wardrobe, in the corners the light didn’t reach, in her dreams and she needed away from them.

One more thought of Luke or Grey Ghost or Aemond and she was going to scream the castle down.

Sena sat up in bed with a wince, her body aching in protest but not outright rebelling. She swung her legs to one side, to feel the cool flagstones under her feet once more. The dining room was not so far. She could break her fast with her sisters and Joffrey, ask after Aegon and Viserys and any news of Jace. Her father was plotting his conquest of the Riverlands - Baela had told her so when she asked after not seeing him for about a week straight - and she had yet to see the Queen since awakening.

It made sense, she guessed, the Queen was a busy woman. Besides, what mother would want to look upon the face of the girl who failed to save her son?

The room swayed uncomfortably as Sena got to her feet and the burns on her legs stretched under their bindings. Gerardys had told her she’d been lucky it was only her cloak that caught fire and burnt her. If she had caught the full force of Vhagar’s flame herself, there would likely be little left of her. Lucky, she thought with a humourless laugh as she braced herself on her dresser with her good arm and reached out to grab her robe. 

Rhaena and Baela must have been changing her nightgowns for her as the one she had on right now was a little sour but not dirtied with weeks worth of soil. How long had she even been in her bed, she wondered? Could nobody bring her a damned calendar?

The hall seemed a lot longer than she remembered as she tied her robe about her waist. She could hear voices and the clinking of glasses and silverware. As she crossed the threshold of the dining room though, the voices died.

Baela, Rhaena, Joffrey and the Queen all stared at her. The little boy had not yet mastered the art of tactfulness, it seemed, as his mouth hung open while he took in the sight of her. She must look dreadful. Splinted arm and hair sticking up in every direction. It was the sight of the Queen, though, that stopped her dead. She curtseyed and mumbled a “your Grace,” before she could stare at the dark circles under Rhaenyra’s eyes for too long.

“Sena,” the Queen said, a little shocked. “Should you be out of bed?”

Sena grimaced and lurched towards the table. “Don’t need more bedrest. My arse is numb.” Rhaena hurriedly got up and pulled out a chair for her, taking her hand to help her down. Sena did so gratefully, despite her protestations about her arse being too numb to sit. 

That won her a weak smile from the Queen. “I suppose it’s a good sign you have an appetite.”

Sena turned down the corner of her mouth. The maesters had been forcing turnip soup and gruel down her throat for weeks but even after such a long spell of uninspired cooking, the spread before her was enough to turn her stomach. Feeling the Queen’s eyes on her, though, she picked up her fork and valiantly speared a chunk of ham hock. She had tamed a wild dragon and duelled with Lord Fleabottom himself - she could eat a little pork. “I was more growing bored of having conversations with myself. I can see how it would drive a person to madness,” she frowned. The ham was so salty it made her eyes water. “It appears I don’t have anything interesting to say.”

Baela smirked. “I could have told you that years ago.”

“Hey,” Sena chided round her food, pointing her fork at her sister in what she hoped was a menacing manner. “Don’t give me cheek in front of Joff. I won’t have him learning that bad attitude of yours.” Everyone looked down the table at the young boy and it seemed Sena was fighting a losing battle, though, as he was carving a halfway decent picture of Tyraxes into the arm of his chair.

“Joff, stop that,” the Queen chided, although it seemed half-hearted and Joffrey did not look up. 

Rhaena laughed and leaned in, offering suggestions on how to make the carving more lifelike. “His tail is longer than that!” Baela pointed out, following suit. “No, look, I’ll do it-“

Sena swallowed hard to force the pork down her throat. Now that she had appeased the Queen by eating, she sat back in her chair. “How have you been… my Queen?” She asked, barely daring to look at her stepmother.

Rhaenyra let out a sigh that sounded ancient and weary. “I don’t know,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “I don’t know. I just… wake up and do the next thing, then the next, then the next, until it’s time to go to bed again.” She looked into the embers in the fireplace. “Even then, I cannot sleep.”

Sena didn’t know what to say. What had she ever been through in her life that could even begin to compare to losing a child?

“The boys have been needing me a lot, that helps. Joffrey has been acting out - it was only his Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys who stopped him from climbing aboard his hatchling dragon and going to burn the capital down,” Rhaenyra said grimly. “Aegon and Viserys are too young to understand, but they need me all the same.”

“What about Jace?”

The Queen’s eyes glassed over with tears. “I begged him to come home, but he refused. He told me his heart was broken but this only made his mission more important than ever.”

Sena’s chest heaved under the weight of her own breath and dug her fingernails into her palms in an attempt to ground herself. “He’ll be a fine King one day, your Grace,” she said, willing her voice to remain steady.

The Queen nodded but they both knew it was no consolation for what she had lost.

There was footfall in the hallway and then Sena’s father was coming into the dining room, gathering a plate of food to take straight to his maps and letters, it seemed. He paused when he laid eyes on her. “You’ve rejoined the realm of the living, have you?” He asked in lieu of greeting as he pocketed a bread roll.

“Just about,” she said and braced herself on the edge of the table as though to get up. “You ought to take me to your war room. I want to see what you’re planning, what’s next.”

Daemon gave her a look. “What’s next? For you? Bed rest,” he said. “You could have died.”

Sena gritted her teeth. So everyone keeps saying. “I think I’ve had enough bed rest.”

He rolled his eyes at her and reached over Baela to grab a leg of cold chicken. The two of them looked remarkably similar with that disgruntled look on their face. Like a moody infant being roused from sleep. “And yet you haven’t miraculously healed your broken arm or hatched another dragon. No, Sena. Maester Gerardys says it will be two moons at least before he’ll take off that splint.”

“Two moons?” Sena balked. “You can’t expect me to sit about on Dragonstone for two moons. There’s a war going on!”

Queen Rhaenyra intervened, likely to save herself the headache of them bickering. “You have fought bravely, Sena. You gave more than you should ever have to. You can rest.”

Sena gave a disbelieving laugh. “I wasn’t brave, your Grace!” She snapped, her voice trembling. “I was scared. And I achieved nothing. Arrax, Grey Ghost… Luke is dead. All for nothing.”

Silence fell around the table and guilt washed over her as her sisters and brother stopped their japing to turn and watch the adults argue. She shouldn’t have gotten out of bed.

All traces of humour had left her father’s face, and he set his plate down on the table, his jaw wound tight. “Do not fear, daughter. We shall even the score soon enough.” She didn’t like the look on his face. It had scared her since she’d been old enough to remember it. “And soon enough, every traitorous whelp from Alicent Hightower’s cunt will regret the day they were born. They will die screaming. And I’ll save the kinslayer for last.”

He didn’t mean to. The thought was a bleak echo in her mind, unbidden, unwanted. But how could she know? How could she know what was in his heart that day? Sometimes she felt as though she barely knew him at all. And what did it matter if he meant to? Luke was dead, regardless of his intentions. Baela was glaring at her from across the table, reading the struggle on her face and willing her to keep her mouth shut-

“That’s enough,” Rhaenyra snapped, pushing her chair back with a screech. “Joffrey, come. You’re late for your lessons.”

The boy had up until then been transfixed on his stepfather, watching him with large brown eyes and a hard look on his face, an anger Sena had never seen on him before. His mother pulled him up from his chair despite his protestations and ushered him out the door. She then rounded on her husband, who was setting her with a grim look. 

Sena’s hands trembled in her lap.

“Rhaenyra-“

“No,” she said forcefully. “It is none of my business what you do with your girls and how you choose to shape them, Daemon, but by the Gods, I will get my sons through this with some shred of humanity left in them if it fucking kills me.”

She stormed out, and Daemon was left with his daughters, all of whom were determinedly avoiding his gaze. He dipped his head and huffed out a laugh. “We’re at war, girls,” he growled, leaning over the table towards them. “Get used to the idea. How do any of you expect to get anything done if you won’t get your hands dirty?” He lingered over them, willing one of them to be brave enough to look up and meet his eye. When none of them did, he shook his head and stalked from the room.

Sena slowly brought her gaze upwards and caught Baela’s eye. The elder twin looked shaken, but raised an eyebrow. “He’s not wrong, is he?” She breathed.

Rhaena was chewing her lip. “Come, Sena. Let’s get you back to bed.”

Sena, for once, didn’t protest.

-----

The days on Dragonstone seemed to crawl by, as Sena willed her body to heal so she might escape the dark recesses of her mind for a while. Once she was able to get out of and stay out of bed for any length of time, she made herself useful by joining the Queen in her solar and answering some of her correspondence for her, to take some of the pressure off of her. The volume of ravens flying in to Dragonstone had at last proved too much for Maester Gerardys to handle and Sena’s body might be in tatters but she had an able mind, decent penmanship and most importantly, it was not her dominant arm that was in a splint. It was a small mercy, she thought bleakly, as she stared at her sword belt hanging from its hook by her bedroom door one morning. A slightly different fall and she might have never been fit for battle again.

She pushed the thought from her mind, the way she pushed all thoughts of that day away, and finished readying herself. On the way to the Queen’s solar, she paused outside Luke’s bedroom door. She did this every morning. The door was closed and no one had moved any of his possessions yet. Sena rested her head against the oak and pictured the books that he so detested in a dusty pile on his desk, his clothes in disarray on the floor. Muddy training gear and a half-finished secret love letter to Rhaena with crossings-out and ink blots. Or not-so-secret, as Rhaena had always ran to Sena to discuss them with her as soon as she got them. They made Baela balk and make gagging sounds at her, so Rhaena had always come to Sena. And in her own head, Sena would think of Aemond’s letters, feel the ghost of his touch, his lips on hers.

She sighed and pushed herself away from the door. She could not mourn at Luke’s door and think of Aemond. She would not sully her brother’s memory with thoughts of the man who had brought him his painfully early end.

With an announcing knock, Sena let herself into the Queen’s solar. It had become her habit over the weeks to let herself in as she was expected. She regretted it instantly this morning though, as she saw the Queen and Prince Daemon bowed together in deep conversation. She blushed a little, having intruded on a private moment, and curtseyed to them. “Your Grace, my Prince, good morning. Apologies, my Queen, I did not realise you had company.”

“Rise, Sena. It’s quite alright, we were discussing troop movements, nothing more,” the Queen said, smoothing down her skirts. Prince Daemon stood at an angle to the Queen so he could survey his daughter, something glinting in his eye that Sena was not sure she was entirely comfortable with, a letter in his hand. She ignored him and crossed the solar to the small writing desk the servants had set up for her, already stacked with correspondence from the Lords of the Realm swearing fealty to their rightful Queen. Jace had finally returned from the distant North, and he could not have brought better news. The Eyrie and Winterfell had both sworn to defend the claim of Queen Rhaenyra and were raising their banners at this very moment. The Usurper may command the support of the Stormlands and the Westerlands, but the Reach had been slower to declare. House Tyrell with its infant lord and council of regents had proved reluctant to be seen to be following the lead of their banner-house, the Hightowers. It was the noble houses of the Reach that the Queen and Sena were currently focusing on, to see which ones chafed at the overreach of the Hightowers and remembered their oaths of fealty to the young Princess of Dragonstone.

The Riverlands had also been slow to declare, however, and it was that region of the war table that Sena’s father was currently focused on. She was actually surprised to see him still on Dragonstone this morning. “Father,” she said as she set herself down at her desk and reached for her letter opener, pulling an envelope with the seal of House Tarly towards her. In her younger years, she might have bemoaned swapping her sword and the training yard for the little blade and a writing desk, but she could see now that if they were to win this war and put the rightful Queen on the Iron Throne, the fighting would as much be done with the quill as the sword. “I’m surprised to see you still here. Were you not departing to join your host in the Riverlands at daybreak?”

Her father gave her that smirk of his that set her teeth on edge. “As soon as my business with the Queen is finished, daughter. Caraxes is saddled and my men await me where they have made landfall at the mouth of the Trident. We will march on Harrenhal at once.”

Sena’s eyes went to the Queen and caught the downturn of her mouth at the mention of the cursed hall. Now the seat of Lord Larys Strong, the Usurper’s Master of Whisperers, it was the place Ser Harwin, her lover and the true sire of her sons by Ser Laenor had perished in a fire. It had been in circumstances every bit as uncertain as Ser Laenor’s death… and Sena's mother’s. It was something she tried to keep in mind these days, as her new role in the unfolding war demanded of her. It was important to tread lightly and watch her back, as she had no way of knowing which hands were bloodied and with whose blood.

“Speaking of, what was your business with me, husband?” The Queen asked, trying to shirk the dark mood that had descended on her once again at the mention of Harrenhal, another black chapter in her history. Sena knew the Maester had started preparing the Queen sleeping draughts and had noted it had alleviated some of the dark bruising under her eyes, but had done little to ease the tenseness in her shoulders and the dark moods that caught up with her when she least desired them.

Sena might not know what it was to lose a child a sennight after carrying a babe to a funeral pyre - and thank the Gods she did not know that pain - but she knew the feeling of being swamped by the darkness as you began to tire of treading.

“I can leave, come back later, if you need the room?” Sena suggested, fearful it was a matter of sensitivity that need not go past the Queen’s ears yet, but her father shook his head. That wry tilt of his lips was making her stomach churn. What on earth could he have to say that had him looking like that, like an ugly tomcat with a bowl of cream?

“No. Stay. You would hear it soon enough anyways,” he said, and held out the scroll in his hand to the Queen. “From King’s Landing, your Grace. Some of our seeds have borne fruit, at last.”

Sena’s pulse jumped. What news could there be of King’s Landing? Who in King’s Landing was even writing letters to her father right now? Since they’d returned from their ill-fated visit, it had been like the Wall itself had been erected across the gullet of Blackwater Bay. No ships, no letters, no anything drifted on the waves or soared in the sky to them from the capital.

The Queen gave her consort a puzzled look and snatched the letter from his hand. She opened the folded parchment and began to scan it. Her eyes widened, her mouth fell open, and she gripped her midsection as she let the letter fall to the desk. Sena’s stomach lurched. “Daemon,” the Queen breathed, addressing her husband with wide eyes. “What have you done?”

The Prince looked back at her with a sneer on his lips. “I’ve gotten my hands dirty, your Grace,” he said simply.

“What?” Sena questioned sharply, standing up from her desk. She could feel the nausea rising inside of her. “What is it?”

The Queen steadied herself on her desk with one hand, looking faint, still gripping her middle with the other, as if she needed to feel herself breathing to be convinced she was doing it. She was grey in the face, and Daemon was still. Deadly still.

And Sena could finally pinpoint that look on his face when she had walked in. That was how he appeared when he was pleased with himself.

She could not take it any longer, she lunged forwards and swiped the letter from before the Queen, acid climbing from her belly up her throat. The writing was scratchy, unrefined and poorly taught, but she could make it out clear enough.

The deed is done. The usurper’s heir is no more. An eye for an eye.

“An eye for an eye…” Sena read out loud, the words swimming before her eyes as she tried desperately to make sense of them.

“A son for a son,” came her father’s low voice, and Rhaenyra let out an agonised sound as her worst fears were confirmed.

Jaehaerys.

Sena looked up from the parchment, which shook like a leaf in her hand. She met her father’s eyes. Violet. Like hers. “Tell me I don’t understand,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Tell me I- tell me you didn’t-“

“Come now, daughter. Even you should be able to puzzle out the riddle,” he said with a scant smirk in his cruel eyes. Were her eyes that cruel? Did that shade of purple seem so impenetrable, so treacherous on her?

“You bastard,” she breathed. Her knees were shaking, struggling under her weight. She stepped back, gripped the edge of her writing desk, “No. No, not even you- not even you could do that.”

“I can assure you, daughter, I can and I did,” he said, taking a step towards her. She shrunk back from him, leaning her weight on the desk so she did not collapse there and then. “My catspaw took their chance when the so-called Queen was taking her children to visit with the Dowager-“

“Helaena was there?” Sena’s entire body shook. No. No.

Her father nodded, unfeeling, unflinching. “Yes. I’m told she was given the choice between the boy and the babe, though it wasn’t really a choice. Shame the little one will have to grow up knowing his mother did not love him enough to save him.”

“You monster!” Sena barked, her hands gripping the edge of her desk until she was white in her knuckles. The rage rising in her was like a tempest, a hurricane. Like some godly wrath straight out of the Seven Hells. When she blinked, she could see the sweet little boy behind her eyelids, offering out his little hand-carved horse and smiling at her bashfully. She could see Helaena watching him with adoration, Queen Alicent beaming with pride. 

She could see blood.

She felt like she was going to be sick.

“What have you done?” She breathed, drawing closer to her father on shaky feet. “How could you? He was an infant.” She could not draw breath. “What happened to Luke was an accident! A dragon gone rogue. You just murdered a little boy in cold blood.”

The Queen and her consort both looked up at her sharply at that. “Luke-” Rhaenyra choked out.

“An accident?” Daemon laughed coldly. He leered over her, his expression a picture of mad amusement. “Gods, Sena, what poison has my wretch of a nephew been pouring in your ear?” he asked. “You truly think he is some tortured soul? Some poor victim of circumstance? That was no accident.” 

“He is vengeful and lacks restraint, yes, but despite his faults, he is a good man who would never mean to hurt a child,” she hissed. “The same cannot be said for you.”

He brushed her hair from her face with his calloused fingers. The skin he touched felt as though there were living things crawling beneath it. “You’re truly pathetic, aren’t you?” He said with a mean grin. “Is that all it takes to turn you into a blind fool, some weak profession of love so that you’ll let him stick his cock in you?”

She was shaking. She was burning.

He shook his head, smirking and giggling. “I truly don’t know where you get it from. At least your mother had enough backbone to hate me ‘til the bitter end. She had the brains to know I was telling her I loved her just so I could fuck her.”

She spat in his face, catching him square in the eye and he flinched away, wiping at his face with a grunt. “Little bitch,” he growled.

Sena turned on Rhaenyra and she was livid, every inch of her white hot and singing. “Did you know about this? Did you know?” The Queen had tears tracking down her cheeks. She could not seem to move a muscle, let alone answer. “Tell me!” Sena demanded, slamming her hands down on the desk before the Queen.

Rhaenyra flinched and turned a look of pure rage on Sena. Sena wished she had it in her to feel the shame her younger self would have felt at invoking such a reaction. But her younger self, her innocent and gentle self was gone, gone, and her father seemed hellbent on burning out every remnant. “Your sister, your poor, sweet sister who has never shown you and your sons anything but love.” She ducked her head to hold the Queen’s line of vision as Rhaenyra looked away, trying to garner some response from her. “Helaena will not survive this,” Sena’s voice shook as she realised the truth of it.

Her father’s answering laugh was from the depths of hell. “And House Targaryen will be rid of one more halfwit,” he said.

That was it.

That was all she could take.

It wasn’t in the heat of the moment, it wasn’t without thought. She knew exactly what she was doing, exactly where the letter opener lay on her desk as she spun around and reached for it. She flew at her father, her sword arm raised high, and brought the small blade down with every ounce of strength she possessed and pure clarity of thought.

Daemon’s blood spattered onto Sena’s bodice and Rhaenyra let out a gut-wrenching scream. Sena knew that the blade was too small, too blunt to accomplish her means, she knew it. But the look of shock and fear on her father’s face was worth every second of the hell it would rain down on her. He raised one hand and clutched at the blade in his neck, holding it steady in the wound, and brought the back of his other hand across Sena’s face. Hard.

Stars blew across her field of vision, her father’s heavy signet ring causing blood to burst from her lip. The rug on the ground rushed up to greet her. The air was forced from her lungs and she let out a scream as her splinted arm went aflame with pain once more.

The Queen was running from the room, screaming for a maester, a guard, anyone. Sena lay there on the rug for a second, tasting the blood in her mouth, feeling the ragged gasp in her throat and chest as she clawed back her breath. Her father knelt down on the rug beside her, still holding the letter opener steady in his neck, and dragged her up by the neckline of her dress with his spare hand. He was so close to her she could smell the sourness of wine on his breath. “For the blood we share,” he breathed, his voice ragged from the effort, “we’re going to pretend that was a clumsy accident. Like the traitor you whore yourself out for.” He shoved her back down to the ground, and fresh pain burst through her arm.

Her father staggered to his feet. Sena pressed her forehead into the rug and laughed coldly, turning her head to take in the man who had sired her, pale and shaking, his own blood sprayed across her. “What is blood to you?” She asked. She herself was surprised at the humour in her voice, the mad grin on her face. “You’re already a kinslayer, father. Accursed. What’s one more?” She pushed herself up to her knees and held her arms out in surrender. “Quickly. While no one can stop you,” she urged him, eyeing the blade in his neck.

Was he mad enough to do it? Pull the blade free from his neck and greatly damage his own chance at living, just to put an end to her? The daughter he had never wanted nor loved, sired on the wife he despised. He could do it. He was stronger than her, bigger, could overpower her easily and do it, even with the letter opener. He could end it all. He just needed to pull the knife free, let his own blood flow.

He leaned over her, so close they were nose to nose, brow to brow. “I will end you,” he promised her in a ragged voice. “Not yet. That would be too easy. Not until your precious halfwit has thrown herself from the highest window in Maegor’s Holdfast. Not until I finish what Lucerys started, and your lover is a feast for carrion crows,” he breathed, stroking her cheek with a bloodied thumb. “But then… I made you. And I will end you. I promise you that, Sena. Here and now.”

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

[wrathful-reptile]

Curse or Blessing

Flight Rising Lair lore Focus: Lair member Alnilam

Warnings: None Context: Alnilam, local baker, is pestered by her favorite customer and talks a little about her life.

"Blessed? What is a blessing but a curse others are jealous of?" Alnilam asked, watching the clouds over the city as she walked with a dragon who was starting to get on her nerves.

"Oh but the Icewarden himself chose you."A green skydancer hummed."To be chosen by one of the eleven is-"

"Has anyone told you you're harder to get rid of than a disease?"Alnilam growled. The skydancer stopped and her red eyes seemed to shine.

"Why that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me!"

"Viral, it was not a compliment."Alnilam shook out her mane with a huff."And imagine. All of your children left to serve the deities. A noble cause. They all followed their own call. But you? You were sent against your will. You were planning to go. But to serve the deity you were born under. I was born a fire dragon."

"You're… not though."

"Correct."Alnilam rolled her eyes."But I was taken here by my travels. The travels I planned to do before settling to serve. They said my destiny was not to serve and I ignored them."

"So how'd you become an Ice dragon?"Viral was walking backwards and Alnilam considered simply tripping the skydancer to change the topic but decided otherwise.

"I left to go serve the Flamecaller and got lost in the snow. It all looks the same outside the city. It's no wonder most need an ice dragon to accompany them. When I was found, it was by Gaolers. They took me to him. The icewarden himself. My fire was too bright to contain by even their ancient ice. They needed him to quell the flames. And he did. He turned me into one of his own and ice runs through me."She sighed."Cursed and then sent away, back to this city. Why? I do not know."

"I mean that explains the embers that are constantly coming out of your mane."Viral said.

"Yes, Viral. That explains the embers."

"Does it burn?"

"Does what? The embers? No."

"The ice."

"Viral…"Alnilam looked at Viral with an almost unreadable expression.

"Dumb question, right?"

"No that's… I don't know what a burn is supposed to feel like but based on descriptions? It did burn. I've adjusted."

"Miss Alni, maybe if we found the Flamecaller, she could give you your fire back?"

"Or she could kill me. OR perhaps I'm done dealing with the eleven. They may be gods but if I have to face another, I want it to be the Icewarden so I may spit on his name."Alnilam said, heading to a building."Now then, what was it you were pestering me about before you got me on this topic?"

"Oh, I need three loaves of Sunflower loaf, a batch of blacktongue muffins, and a whisp fruit honey pie."

"Hosting another Contagion party?"

"Yes! Only Rohel showed up last time."

"Is that a problem?"Alnilam asked, gathering the pastries from one of the display cases and some baskets.

"Yes! Because he left thinking I just wanted to hang out with him. AND I DID don't get me wrong, but… uh. I never know what to say around him unless others are there. I mean he's part of the council! And well… he's pretty."

"Oh Viral… What am I going to do with you?"Alnilam handed over the baked goods and waited as the skydancer fished payment from their bag, only to see the shocked and clearly disappointed expression. Alnilam shook her head with a sigh before going to write something down.

"Pay later?"Viral asked with a nervous laugh.

"Yes. Pay later."

"Thank you! Sorry!" Viral left the obelisk to her job.

[bardkin]

while my dracionity turned out different in the end, this was still an important post for me to write!

<:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::{[xxx()o

when I see my draconic self in my mind’s eye, or become more aware of my phantom parts (because they're always present to a degree), there’s a consistent, distinct shape.

o()xxx[{:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

- a long-ish mammalian muzzle, full of sharp teeth & fangs. also has a feline- or mustelidae-like nose-pad. (“padded nose”? idk the exact term for these types of critter snoots.) - brown fur of short-to-medium length. - unsure if i have scales or protective plating anywhere? might have some on the lower sections of my legs. - body is pine-marten-y in shape & length. - tail is also quite long. sleek, thick-ish, and is capable of corkscrewing around itself at least once. tapers off into a (albeit large) lion-like “tuft” at the end; like a traditional unicorn’s tail. (may be longer, and i’m just experiencing a length that’s relative to my human body???) - paws with five digits, paw-pads, & claws. unsure if said claws are retractable at all. overall very marten-esk. - ears are always in a “back facing” position, which seems to be their natural/neutral positioning. ears are large, almost fennec-like, and fuzzy inside & out like a donkey’s. - set of small nub-horns, teal in color, positioned like a goat’s or deer’s. - one of the closest placement matches i’ve seen are Trico’s (beast from The Last Guardian), but mine grow the opposite direction (i.e, toward my back).

- i do not have wings, and notably feel like i’d be incapable of (natural/non-magical) flight.

- i believe my species lived in, or at least frequented, a temperate forest environment of sorts. and/or potentially somewhere that feels like a mix of Alaska & California's wilderness? it's a jumble of fuzzy noemata that i'm still sorting through.

all this got me wondering; is there any example of this sort of dragon in wider media? in any known mythos or folklore? thus far, the closest examples i've found in these sources are Chinese & Japanese Dragons, such as the character of Haku from Spirited Away; but these aren't exacts. when i look up images & read about them in mythology texts (historical & fictional alike), i always think to myself "Kind of close, but... not it."

one fictional type i've found that sort of matches me is Imperial dragons, from Flight Rising.

however, many details just don't ring as "me." i lack wings, those prominent whiskers, full scales, or any kind of beard, my horns are much, much shorter, i could go on. bottom line, i'm not an Imperial dragon. so, i'm left with the same feeling: "Close, but nowhere near exact."

the absolute closest body-type/shape i’ve found (outside of drawing something myself) is from various original characters. there's a consistent handful of design tropes that make these characters distinctly this type of "fuzzy noodle dragon" — like a mosh-pit mix of almost "off-brand" depictions of eastern dragons. if you're in character/adoptable design circles, you may know what i'm talking about. you may even own a character like this, or be in the same boat as me.

i did briefly consider the idea i might be OC-kin, but... similarly to historical depictions & Imperial dragons, these designs feel like they’re just that; designs. not part of my identity.

"Close. Nothing more."

even this fursona/character concept i whipped up a few years ago, which has pretty much every visual aspect i described, doesn’t feel like me. that character still feels like just a for-fun-mascot or character; not a self-portrait, idealized or true-to-form.

which brings me to a label i've been ruminating over: Folcinteric (Nonhumanity).

i feel @who-is-page’s label of folcintera might really fit me, especially with the specific type of dragon i’ve described here. problem is, (and this is most likely just the imposter syndrome talking) i'm not even sure i have any mythos to begin with.

well. maybe i do. in a slightly more abstract sense.

as i said, this kind of design is not that uncommon; i'd even dare to say it's popular. popular enough that a lot of people will understand and have a fairly distinct image in their mind when you say “furry noodle dragon.” (i'm extremely curious about the origins of this design trend, and who might've kicked it off, or if this concept is a conclusion that multiple artists came to when making a lung dragon inspired design.)

so, perhaps my larger “mythology” — to potentially stretch the definition a bit — is from a subset of the dragon art & character design communities. something in me says that could count as a "lived mythology" of sorts.

and, i am still a type of dragon, one that varies in imagery/details and person-to-person lore, at the end of the day. one that is also very tied to my own personal understanding of "dragon."

dragons, in the larger scope of folklore, are typically an allegory for the wealthy, or the concept of "evil," or are simply more "neutral" symbols of power, wisdom, strength, and/or magic.

dragons were never something i feared / saw as universally "villainous," or even as strictly symbolic of any of the previously listed symbolism. my first exposure to dragons was within the Eragon/Inheritance Cycle series. due to the dragon and rider bond i saw there, "dragon" was cemented in my brain as a companion; protector, friend, but also animal. a fearsome one, yes, but not cruel or "evil by nature." not greedy, just naturally curious and drawn to "shiny" objects in the way any corvid is. sapient as any human or humanoid folk, but still as much of a beast as any wolf or bear.

publicly, i'll most likely just say "I'm a [species of] dragon," and leave it at that. the details of my identity are for me alone, and thus any further explanations or descriptions will be given voluntarily.

but even the things i keep private, i like to put names to. this is one such thing!

"theriomythic" felt somewhat like a hasty choice, though i don't mean that as a bad thing, at least for me. a bit of "my experiences fit here [within the therian label], but the species and my understanding of it doesn't [fit the definition of "only" earthen/nonfictional animals]... so i'll go with something that's close enough."

i do quite like the terms "draconity" & "dragonkind," since they're both very all-encompassing; but... i'm not sure how to articulate how that also feels like the problem (though i use the term loosely) that my brain has with them. "dragonkind," from my understanding, is more-so a label for the community itself rather than the individual. (it can be for personal use, i.e "I am dragonkind," but i don't know if it's widely used as such.) and "draconity" doesn't... quite ring the way i feel it should. it feels more like a general descriptor to preface my experiences and identity.

i could come up with my own term(s), and who knows, i might end up doing so. but at the same time, i don't want to reinvent where i don't need to. to me, the idea currently feels like calling that particular shade of lavender purple by another name, just because i can.

so maybe my flavor of dragon does fit the definitions for being folcintera. the term is supposed to be pretty much limitless within "lived mythos."

all that to say, i'm going to be trying out folcintera for myself. worst that happens is it doesn't end up fitting lol if that becomes the case, i'll find or make something new~

[frtools]

800 followers, dang!

Well then, I did not know that this would blow up this much. We apparently hit 800 followers recently, and I did not even notice!

It's been quite a bumpy ride over the years as you all know, but one I am happy to have pulled through. Although there have been next to no updates to the site and it's toolset recently, I have learned a lot on how to deal with many problems.

I've learned how to do image manipulation

How to effectively parse URLs for data (like dragon's and their properties).

Automated fetching new changes to dragons and genes without even having to visit FR itself. Just run a script and commit changes.

Learned how to deploy the website and all it's background jobs without supervision.

Implemented SSL with automatically renewing certificates.

Created a discord bot that is in many servers, mostly to fetch dragon data.

Learned how to minimalist scrape the site for specific data, such as finding new items, checking news posts or fetching user ids based on name to cache so I don't have to fetch the user again in the future

Implemented many local caching methods such that data only has to be retrieved once from FR

Created a pretty expansive user profile system

Attempted to ensure that all site functionality would be available to logged in and not logged in users through means of 'secret keys', basically passwords for that specific feature.

I can probably list many more things but that would be going into a lot of detail. Below the cut I'll write some more stuff, but for those who read this far already:

Thanks for all the support <3

I recently mentioned that my cost for the hosting increases, this is what a normal month looks like for me and starting this period it will be about 10 or so euro more. This is all to keep the service running smoothly, without any downtime, paid out of pocket for you all to enjoy. Any assistance in helping offset these costs are always welcome : )

You can do so either by becoming a patron or just toss me a coffee.

So what is in store for the site in the future?

Honestly.. probably not much. Eventually functionality will cease to work as Flight Rising makes changes to their front facing API and I won't be able to get the data needed for many things anymore.

Having said that, I have been messing about with the idea of a redesign of the front end, making it a little less developery and more user friendly. But life has been busy for me as of late with a new job since almost a year ago, other hobby projects I have been neglecting and games that have come out that I love to play.. it just doesn't leave much time for a project like FRTools that I have no direct gain from myself other than gathering more programming knowledge.

That said, if you want any specific feature added I can always look into how much work it would be and maybe it will get me hooked?

Regardless, let's get the follower counter to 1000 next before stuff breaks down completely :3

[swiftscion]

TOA anniversary munday!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

tagging: you. yes, you.

Name: Orokara

Pronouns: he/they

Birthday (no year): February 3

Where are you from? What is your time zone? Canada; EST

Roleplay experience: I have no idea but probably something like 7 or 8 years at this point

Got any pets? Just a few fish, if you can count those

Favorite time of year: Spring! It feels really nice when the days start to get longer

Some interests and things you like: Mythology, music and playlist making, reading, animanga, cooking, random video essays, biology

Some fun facts & trivia about you: I used to moderate a few roleplay groups and a Pixelmon server myself, though those interests all died. I share a birthday with Hilda Goneril. I have an awful habit of starting things and then never finishing them. I like wearing bracelets and golf clothing. I crack my neck like all the time.

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? Currently, Honkai: Star Rail, League of Legends, and Flight Rising. I'm also a big fan of the Pokemon series (and fan games), Project Moon games, Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance, Ultrakill, and Omori. Currently looking for people to play Stardew Valley with me ehe

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: Ghost and Grass. I used to be a grass-type gym leader on the Pixelmon server i helped run, and Appletun was my ace. Did you know that due to its ability thick fat and partial dragon typing, it actually resists fire moves? Many of my challengers didn't ;) my other faves are Hisiuan Zoroark, and Altaria!

How did you get into Fire Emblem? I liked Ike from Smash Brothers Brawl and on a whim decided to play Path of Radiance one day. It was one of my first emulator experiences. I let Rhys and Soren die on the first map they were available and never reset for them. It was bad.

What Fire Emblem games have you played? All mainlines at least once, plus feh

First Fire Emblem game: Path of Radiance!

Favorite Fire Emblem game: Blazing Blade, Binding Blade, and Genealogy in no particular order

Any Fire Emblem crushes? Kagetsu, Shannan, DIECK, Tibarn, Gerik, Selena/Severa

If you’ve played the following games, who was your first S support? Awakening - I don't remember but most recent is Chrom. Fates - Selena. Three Houses - Marianne. Engage - Mauvier

Favorite Fire Emblem class: Swordmaster but I use early game pegasus knights and thieves religiously. Dodgetanking is my favorite thing ever

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class? Navarre archetype myrmidon

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? Fear the Deer baby!

If you were an Engage character, which Emblem would you Engage with? Emblem Ike so I can run into an entire pack of enemies and slap the great aether button

How did you find TOA? Got invited after i was struggling as like. the only fe4 fan in a discord group that mostly wrote modern fe titles

Current TOA muses: Larcei, Owain, Sain

Who was your first TOA muse? If you don’t have them anymore, could you see yourself picking them up again? Larcei! Though she has come and gone

Have you had any other TOA muses? Ough I might not remember them all but I think the list is: Lewyn, Elm, Sirius, L'Arachel, Ryoma, Idunn

Do you think you have a type of character you gravitate towards? This might sound crazy considering my muselist but edgy swordsmen... I think people who grapple with feelings of revenge, hatred, and guilt are so interesting to delve into the psychology of. Lif is probably my all-time fave, if that says anything about me

What do you believe you enjoy writing the most? Slow and steady character growth. I like it so much when my muses become long-term friends with other ones. Owain and Julius, Larcei and Edward, Sain and Caeda, etc etc. Gaining a new reason to wake up in the morning and all the implications of that is always a joy to hash out over the course over multiple posts

Favorite TOA-related memory: The time Sirius and Est kept being forced to attack eachother by an arena boss, but whiffed all their rolls. Darcy and I wrote it with this little tongue-and-cheek bit where they kept saying "now isn't the time for sparring" before misdirecting yet another attack and writing Sirius' feelings regarding her, his past in Archanea, and the present state of that arena was real fun. Shoutout to N's Leif for the incredible setting of a really dark cave, too!

How do you pronounce TOA?: Sometimes I pronounce each letter individually and sometimes I say "towah". I am mad inconsistent sorry

Got any delusions that didn’t see the light of day in TOA that you’d like to share? Fuck it have my whole delusion list: Rutger, Fergus, Lif, The Vaike, Lewyn (again), Osian, Melady, Orson, Zihark, Louis, Kagetsu, Libra, Lon'qu

[pumpkin-bread]

Tipsy Lair Review for @dreamslayer-fr!

Thanks for tha CR. I'm always delighted to look at your lair.

Accidentally posted a link but like, sure. Anyway. FUCK YEA. DOUBLE ELDRTICH GEN 1.

Everyone knows ol Kai loves g1s. I also love a dragon with a backstory, and Sana has a good one. Thief/merc with morals, who befriended a harpy. V nice. V nice.

Ohh I love me a pretty tundra. Oh look, here's one! Honeydew petals is simply one of the best colour/gene combos out there, and it has been for... god, so many years. I have a honeydew petals tundra of my own actually! Because they deserve to be rainbow bicorns.

I started writing then realised that Bloom does NOT have a bio. WHOOPSY. Whatever. She's great.

To make up for that I'll throw out right here that I love your mooshroom tuntun man in the same lair. Precious.

...It's DEFINITELY cheating to pick dragons I made for sale but I will say it brings me much serotonin to see them so loved in your lair. Okay.

ONWARDS

She looks so cool! And she's named after one of my favourite animals in the world! I once more made an oopsy and thought I had a bio to go off of but I don't so instead I'm gonna say that the thought of a pirate captain who is also a deep sea eldritch monster fucks severely. That's what her amazing look inspired me to think of. Hell yea. Belladonna is so gorgeous too. Wait. Did we talk about them on discord? I think we did! Or I'm just drunk. Shit. Whatever, I love them.

Wraith is so fucking handsome!! Look at him!! LOOK AT HIM. May your eyes be rended from your skull in flame like his. You will never see something more divine. Anyway I love g1s.

I've seen this fella in your lair before but I'm gonna be honest. I NEVER notived he was a gen 1 before now. Fire/Fire/Metals? That's fuckin awesome. What a guy. I see he is also a cute lil owlman. Please tell me more.

I LOVE YOUR LAIR

[stories-in-the-wind]

Happy New Years my flight rising friends and to all the new people who have joined this blog this year. Over 600 of you now! Wow!

Next year I plan to try my best to provide image descriptions for the work I post. I would like to do my part to make this blog at least a bit more accessible. If anyone has suggestions about describing FR dragons I’m all ears.

Next, I know I said this in the tags of the last reblog, but just to put it here again in writing the next thing I will be doing is to continue the monthly illustrations I started doing last year.

It was a resolution that broke on the 5th month last year but considering the massive upheaval in my life starting end of March I’m honestly still proud of lasting like I did.

I’m still suffering from the physical consequences the stress took on my body this year but I am going to try anyway. I will be doing my best just to have fun with the challenge.

Doing those illustrations gave me an immense amount of happiness last year not only because I saw massive improvement with each piece I drew, but because the slow paced nature of my art challenge gave me a routine and a deadline that forced me to engage with my hobby and disconnect from the internet. I want to draw, not get so wrapped up in work or doom scrolling or spending the whole day on video games.

I am hopeful and excited for this year to be much better than the last.

So with that little ramble out of the way let me say it again,

Happy new year.