#revenge of the night revenge of the knight heir to the sun heir to the son its funnnnyyyyy

[krytus]

a week ago i was ready to give up on kings blood and today i just finished outlining each new chapter of the restructuring/rewrite im doing 😌.....

[codename-adler]

Fake fic title: "Beauty's Prince"

Once upon a time, Jean Moreau, a mere servant of the Moriyama kingdom and its princes, Riko and Kevin, was too beautiful for his own good.

Riko had sent Jean to clean the castle's dirtiest quarters, the pig pen, the stable. He'd sent him to work in the infirmaries, with the wounded soldiers and the lepers. He'd sent him to tend to the hundred acres of gardens and orchards. Jean did not mind the work, and did it well. And yet. The scorching sun, the dirt, the dust, the sweat, the blood, nothing could tarnish the beauty that lay underneath.

Prince Riko could not stomach it any longer. Jean Moreau attracted attention that was rightfully Riko's. He'd even caught Prince Kevin's eye, and that would not do. They were princes. Jean was nothing. He was property Riko owned, and Jean would do best to remember it. So Riko took to more drastic measures.

For a fortnight, Prince Riko kept Jean locked in the dungeons, and day after day, night after night, he broke bones, cut skin, beat the body black and blue. Prince Riko tarnished him until what his eyes saw satisfied him, until he no longer saw grace and fairness upon Jean Moreau.

There was a guard down there, one the prisoners tolerated more than the others, because of his good nature. Each watch, Jeremy Knox had to endure Prince Riko's torture of this poor fellow he knew not from face nor name. Until one day, it all stopped, and the jailed bird was left to die, long forgotten by Prince Riko, his sinful cravings purged. But no physician was sent. No nurse, no apothecary.

No matter what a man has done, Jeremy Knox believed they deserved pity and redemption. And so no matter the crimes this man had committed, Jeremy could not watch him die like this.

But he was not prepared for the horror that lay in this fateful cell. Broken and unrecognizable, Jean could not even speak for himself, out of it most of the time. Still, Jeremy persevered and tended to the wounded, until his superiors warned him Prince Riko had completely forbidden it, Jeremy's action having reached his ears.

Only one path remained for Jeremy Knox. Under a crescent moon, he stole away the wrecked captive and fled to the woods beyond the castle, hellbent on saving this man he did not know. Knocked out for his own good, Jean forgot most of the horse ride and woke up to a quaint little cabin hidden in the forest, with a strange man tending to his open wounds and fractured bones.

Things seemed to slow and calm down, until hunters come, targeting Jean and anything standing in their way. One lets them go, a small man with fire for hair, but others will follow. Jean and Jeremy must flee again, this time also to look for answers, as not everything is as it seems. The Old Gods are not as dead as the King preaches, and life is far from being over for one Jean Moreau. There are legacies to reclaim, revenge to seek, and love to accept.

Snow White meets Cinderella meets Greek Mythology meets Fantasy? Jean Moreau, son of Aphrodite? Jeremy Knox, knight in shining armor with a heart of gold? Evil Prince Riko? Usurper King Tetsuji? Rightful Heir Kevin? Hunter Neil Josten? Jerejean!!

[jawlipops]

this is very half assed comic but i wanted to get it out dkjgs

ok so here comes my brainrot for the last few days 

(wartime of farewells/knights au) i cant even really call it a rewrite tbh bc i just borrowed the roles and the names, the story is entirely diff im just writing mykr fanfiction fr

to give some context there was an event in the mobile game where the main 7 do a play called the warttime of farewells which covers two warring nations: The Sun Nation and the Black Lion Nation. they all have fancy european names but the ones im gonn talk about is Maya (Mariavera il Sole), Claudine (Claudia Schwarzwolf) and Kaoruko (Catalina Leopardo)

In my rewrite the Black Lion Nation was originally a vassal state of the Sun Nation: the largest empire in the known lands ruled by the Il Sole family. Pretty much the unquestioned sovereigns for generations every time there are diplomatic issues to be attended to, Mariavera’s father, the emperor Domineco il Sole calls the noble houses to their big fancy castle in the capital As a result, Claudia, Maria and Catalina spent a lot of time together as children naturally, Maria is super uptight and duty-bound even as a kid, whereas Claudia encourages her to let loose and they quickly become besties. (and maybe maria has just a little bit of a crush idk maybe 👉👈) Claudia comes from the Schwarzwolf family, a house renowned for its knights and duelists.

Catalina’s father Giorgos, eventually hatches a plan to claim power for the Black Lion Nation, and house Schwarzwolf is in on it. The night before the coup is to be set into motion, Claudia confides with Maria about the plan, and urges her to run away with them. Maria says she’ll think about it, but decides to tell her father. The next day the plan fails, but the heir to the throne, Maria’s older brother, Ermanno is killed. Giorgos and his insurrectionists escape the castle walls, and a violent war for sovereignty begins.

Years go by and during a celebration hosted at the Schwarzwolf fortress, the attendees, including all of the Schwarzwolf family, and Giorgos Leopardo are ambushed and slaughtered. Claudia manages to survive by playing dead. The building is set on fire, and she narrowly escapes through a hole in the wall. With the death of Giorgos Leopardo, the Black Lion Nation was handed off to Catalina’s uncle Tullius. A much meeker, and passive man compared to his brother. With nowhere else to go, Claudia heads north to the Black Lion Nation. She stays for several years until adulthood sheltered together with Catalina. Though eventually, Claudia being Claudia, gets fed up with Tullius’ inadequacy, and sets out on her own. She’s hellbent on getting revenge for her family now, and joins a group of roaming Black Lion radicals.

That’s all i got for setup, but Mariavera is now the heir, and general of the Sun Nation’s military force. She hasn’t seen Claudia since the day before the coup, and probably presumes that she died at the Schwarzwolf fortress u can imagine her surprise when they finally meet again and Maria’s all 🥺🥺 but claudia just wants to shove a blade through her heart

[the-knight-of-the-stars]

Fictober Day 4: Arranged Marriage - Uma/Ben

Help

When Uma came down the stairs, and the scandalized crowd looked at her between whispers, she couldn't help feeling a lump in her throat, she froze for a moment. But she remembered the words she had said to her crew when she had left them behind, doubt and fear throbbing in her chest. "We will be free, whatever it takes."

So Uma took a breath and raised her head, taking pride in what she did, taking pride at this moment as she would have done in the face of a battle fought and won. Because that's what it was. It was a victorious night, of rejoicing. At least that was what Ben had told her when she had released him from his imprisonment and he had agreed to stay and talk. Until Mal had arrived to rescue him from a problem for which he had already found a way out, without the need for swords and blood, only with his words and his kindness.

From that moment Uma had realized how different Ben was from Mal, how powerful he could be despite being a mere human that at first glance did not seem to stand out in any way. He was good with words. Uma respected that quality, but at the same time, she feared it. The Island was full of silver tongue masters, and the sweetness of their mouths was always revealed as rotten lies.

But Ben had given her more than words, he had given her time, he had entrusted her with his life. Uma found herself surprised by the courage of this skinny and seemingly naive boy, who would rather die than commit a dishonorable act, rather than fail his people. The same could not be said of his father, who Uma knew, would never have deigned to set foot on the Island.

And much less, King Adam would never have returned a second time, without coercion, without backup, just him and his goodwill, to offer Uma the opportunity she had always asked for. The opportunity to change things. Returning to ask her to come by his hand to the land of the opulent and become one of the ladies of his court. Asking her to accept the political power he offered her so that the guilty would be punished and the innocent would be free.

But Uma hadn't really been able to believe his words until that moment. There, in shells and tulle dress, illuminated by the glow of the chandeliers, staring into the face of all the people she had waited all her life to face. And as she went downstairs, Uma realized that Ben and only Ben looked her in the eye, with respect, with dignity. So Uma dared to take his hand, relying on her own goodness, her own strength, daring to believe that happy endings existed even for people like her.

She dared to see the light beyond the horizon, she was tired of the dark. She had spent her life drowning in anger. Uma had grown up to take pride in calling herself a villain, in embracing all the darkness in her world and transforming it into her own power. She would be the villain if that's what it would take to get out of that prison to which she and her peers had been condemned. She would burn Auradon to the ground, bring the mighty to their knees if need be. Because even her anger wasn't enough. Because she could do better because she deserved better.

Uma was tired of anger, of hopelessness. So he took Ben's hand. And allowed herself to be young for one night, allowed herself to smile when he kissed her hand and announced her to everyone as his lady. She allowed herself to forget about Mal, about revenge, about the misery that had been her life. And she allowed herself to celebrate because while she accepted her place as one of the daughters of Atlantica in that court, the royal knights were ordered to prepare the new royal decree: Liberty, for all the villain kids, all the children of the Island.

The decree, stamped with the king's ring, signed in his own handwriting, was carried to its dusty glass case outside the castle, displayed for Auradon to know as soon as the sun rose. And the councilors would protest, and the nobles would try to stop it, and the old kings would refuse to allow it. This fight was not over yet, but there was no going back. The decree had been issued, there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

So Uma danced to the beat of the violins, looking into Ben's eyes, her heart moved, recognizing in the boy the same longing for happiness, for greatness, to do whatever was necessary. The same stolen youth, the same tired struggle. And she realized that he too had spent his life waiting for someone to take the necessary step to change things. Uma recognized him, and it was like seeing herself in a mirror.

And when the day came the obstacles came, and they could feel that something in the world had already changed. And they had changed it. The static shock of the people, the scandal of the nobles. People who came screaming and protesting to the boardroom, where Ben had to shut himself up to calm things down for hours. And Uma had to restrain herself, listening behind the door, not to enter to strangle the arrogant councilors who called the inhabitants of the Island hopelessly ignorant villains.

The ancient King Adam, in particular, found no graces in the decree. He saw it as a challenge. For him, for his kingdom, for everything he had built. But it didn't take long for him to realize that manipulative words and half-truths no longer had an effect on Ben, now he was out of their reach. He had underestimated the true power of his son. And now, face to face with his mistake, he wanted to find an alternative. After all, he was not the type to give up power so easily.

He knew his own vague and pliable laws, he had made them that way, and now he planned again to use them to his advantage. If Uma, the instigator of this ridiculous mission, turned into a lady, he would make sure to see a benefit. And it was not difficult to find it, after all, the girl had only achieved it thanks to her ancestry. Triton's court.

By the time the second dawn arrived, King Triton had already been summoned to answer for his niece, and at the instigation of King Adam, he arrived with a stern hand. As part of his court, Uma now had to answer to him.

And so she did, with her head held high, while bearing the gaze of the King of the Seas, and holding her ground, defending her position as she had done all her life. But Triton, in his already known intolerance, called her to answer for her mother's crimes. Thanks to Adam's advice, now he could do it within the fuzzy limits of Auradon's law. His plan to bring order seemed perfect.

But Adam, in his human arrogance, had forgotten that even the great Triton must respond to a greater power.

Uma was ready to break free and return to the fight when the sirens arrived to chain and condemn her. And Ben was ready to let her do it, even if it cost him his throne. But they did not even get the chance. Triton retracted, to the surprise of those present, much to Adam's disbelief, who saw his strongest ally bow his head and solemnly proclaim that the matter was beyond his power. And then he understood.

Olympus had taken matters into their own hands.

The Great Lord of the Seas, Poseidon himself, had ordered to have Uma under his wing, recognizing in her the anger and power that all his other granddaughters and grandsons lacked, the strength forged by metal and blood. A worthy heir to the gods. Poseidon looked at the earth and saw that this kingdom was the least he could offer her, it was what she needed to rule like the mighty. Oh yes, The God of the Sea had plans for Uma, and there were nothing mortals could do at the will of a god.

Uma heard him call her from the waves of the sea, the echo of his great power manifesting itself in that invisible ghost, who stroked her hair and offered her power over human affairs if she agreed to become the queen of Auradon and leave the name of the sea forever embodied in the history of the kingdom. In his own words, the perfect union between men and gods. This was how the world had to change, that was his command.

Ben heard it from other ears and realized that he also had no power in the matter, after all, he had always known that his marriage was hardly a matter of the heart. He couldn't risk his people to the fury of the gods, he had no choice. Ben had given up the right to choose love when he had put on the crown. Now more than ever he understood that.

There was no need for Uma to say a word when they finally sat down to talk. It was only enough to see her in the eyes to know that she carried a similar duty on her shoulders. They had been born with power and had decided to use it. Now they had to bear the consequences. Uma looked at Ben, understanding and resigned, and remembered that hope was not yet over. She could still do it. They could still do it. No more fighting, no more bloodshed.

"We will be free, whatever it takes"

[seimeinotaka]

A beautiful gift for a beautiful flower: the Legendary Sword (Vil X MC fic)

It is still the 9th, so I’m still on time to upload a fic to celebrate Vil’s birthday. I wanted to give something he would love, so here it is, given and made with him and Ann in mind. Maybe one day I’ll upload Ann giving him also his so-wanted list hehe. But for now, I hope this will do!

Thanks to polyphenols@AO3 for beta-reading this!

-

This is a story from a young prince who lived in a faraway land.

~ ° ~

Vil had just returned from his afternoon walk as he crossed the now empty lounge, devoid of any of the birthday tables and balloons for his own celebration, as expected for it was the day after. Well, it was empty except for the lone presence of Ramshackle dorm’s prefect, Ann Hawthorne, and Vil’s almost professional headache.

“Vil-senpai, here!” the young girl said as she handed Vil a thick-looking envelope, with a purple ribbon on top.

The unexpected gift made him raise an eyebrow. “Potato, my birthday was yesterday and you were here, with your usual birthday interviews for the School’s News Section. You even took a picture of me. Did you somehow not know it was my birthday yesterday and made a last-minute gift to excuse yourself?”

Ann rolled her eyes and made a mocking grin. “Haha, how funny, there is no way in hell I can make this in one night. I had actually brought it with me, but well, I wanted you to read it, and I didn’t want to take up your time at your birthday party. I mean, you didn’t read Rook-senpai’s poems either, so it was fair that I handed you this now.”

Vague curiosity in his eyes, because he wasn’t really interested, just a little, Vil opened the envelope and took out a large stack of papers bound together with a purple thread. The words “Legendary Sword” could be read on the first page, and with a quick glance, Vil realized it was a script with some pictures in between.

~ ° ~ 

Long ago in the hidden remains of the Araceae Kingdom lived a beautiful young man, with brilliant cold amethyst eyes and delicate flawless skin. His hair was silky golden and he blinded everyone with his appearance. Every day, he devoted himself to his studies, from arts to economics, languages and science. In the afternoon he would train his body, fencing, wrestling, running, horse riding. He worked harder than anyone, never complaining, as he pushed himself day after day.

However, he was feared and scorned, for he was the scion of the wretched Zantedeschia household, Schwartz Zantedeschia. His family had ruled the kingdom with an iron fist, and had seized control of every other kingdom under the sun.

Shedding blood, many fought the Zantedeschia until one day a brave hero, wielding a mythical sword, was able to dethrone the cursed family and their household vanished from history. The hero, coming from the Leiron family, the rulers of the Lilium Kingdom that everyone had dismissed as negligible, was of pure heart and as the chosen hero, he was able to vanquish the evil.

However, the Zantedeschia weren’t completely destroyed and each heir was carefully trained in hopes of achieving their dream.

Before Schwartz, no one had been as successful nor had anyone worked as hard, and he was the only one to cast off from the shadows to fulfill his mission, leaving his homeland in shambles behind him.

To regain their former glory, and extract revenge, that was the reason for his journey.

~ ° ~ 

“A villain protagonist, really? This is your gift to me?” Vil took his eyes off the script for a moment to give Ann a dismissive and insulted glare.

Unamused, the girl rolled her eyes as she pushed the script closer to his face. “Keep reading, Vil-senpai.”

Vil kept his penetrating and heavy stare on her, though the young girl didn’t even flinch, probably used to his flair for the dramatic. However, the actor kept on reading.

~ ° ~ 

To fulfill his quest for revenge, he would need to seize the mythical sword Durendal, which had been the fall of his family. The next chosen holder would be Weiss Leiron, the heir of the Lilium Kingdom, adored by everyone for his purity. As soon as he turned of age, he would become the legitimate owner of Durendal.

Prince Schwartz had known of Weiss, meeting him long ago when he hid his identity to get to know the faces of his enemies. Even now, he was painfully aware, Weiss was beloved by every creature in the land, his affable nature charming everyone in spite of his failings. During that time, Schwartz came to learn that his own nature scared others, finding himself pushed away even if his true name hadn’t been revealed. His beauty alienated everyone he had met and his stoic personality was found distrustful by many, no matter what he did or said.

Thus for years, he couldn’t help but to grow deep resentment in his heart, jealousy taking root like a bloody, poisonous flower. So for Schwartz, this quest meant also his own reassurance of his worth to the world that had shunned him.

~ ° ~

“Do you enjoy making me upset?” Vil squinted as he kept on re-reading the last line, his frown growing deeper and deeper with every word.

“Do I look like I’m enjoying this?” Ann replied with a not so concealed smarmy smile.

“Your suspicious gaze makes me wonder if you are secretly a sadist. You’re not even trying to flatter me in the slightest, and of all people, you had to put him as the hero again. Really, you have a morbid sense of humor.”

“Who says Neige is the hero?”

“I am obviously Schwartz, as the narration clearly describes me. That would mean Neige can only be Weiss. Stop playing around, you aren’t fooling me.” Vil let out a long sigh. “At this rate, I’m going to have you list 200 beautiful things about me instead.”

“Please finish reading the thing, Vil-senpai? Do you judge books on the first page?”

Vil sighed again, gently shaking his head as his eyes went back to the papers in his hands.

~ ° ~ 

To aid him on his quest, Prince Schwartz had been sent with two trusted knights serving the Zantedeschia, the bow master Vert and the young knight Violett. Vert was a self-proclaimed defender of beauty and followed Schwartz wherever he would go. Violett had a tense relationship with Schwartz, feeling constricted by Schwartz’s rules and strictness, and with a promise of freedom after this journey. Whatever their goals were, they would protect him with their lives, as his travel would grow more dangerous the further he went. Prince Weiss had seven renowned knights and no matter Prince Schwartz’s prowess in combat and magic, it would be safer for him to be accompanied. The Araceae Kingdom was also on the northern end of the continent, hidden behind a harsh tundra and treacherous mountains, and Schwartz’s safety was to be prioritized.

As the prince and his knights traveled south, to reach the center of the continent where Durendal was enshrined, they met a group of four travelers in peril, surrounded by foul beasts. Even if it was dangerous, as it could blow his cover, Schwartz and his knights went to their rescue. In gratitude, the brawler Azure, the thief Vermillion, the young lost researcher Ai and her magical talking cat Hai joined Schwartz on his travels south.

~ ° ~

“Why do I get vague videogame allusions from this?” Vil arched an eyebrow at the recent development.

“Well,” Ann replied with a shrug. “They are classes you find in RPGs. It would make sense for Schwartz to gather several comrades that can cover any weakness he might have.”

“Then? What is your class, Ann?” Vil turned to the girl, a mocking smirk dawning on his beautiful face. “I don’t think you’d be able to be a Healer here.”

Ann pursed her lips before reluctantly answering, “I am the very important NPC tagging along. You all can fight to protect me.”

“Fufufu, bold of Ai to wander alone with her talking cat who can barely manage a spell. I wonder if they will be of help.” With a dark chuckle, Vil resumed reading.

~ ° ~ 

Vermillion and Azure hailed from the Rosaceae Kingdom, a land not far away from Lilium and the shrine for Durendal. Originally a couple of bandits, they had initially attempted to trick Ai and her cat, lost travelers who had just survived a shipwreck and were looking for a way back to their homeland, the Asteraceae Empire on the other side of the world. However, after being saved by the same girl they wanted to rob, they decided to reform and help them reach a port. Being told of their quest to reach Lilium, the group tagged along unaware of Schwartz’s true intentions. They all believed he was a young man kidnapped and sent to Araceae who was trying to go back to his own land, Vermillion and Hai hoping they could snag a reward for their efforts.

To reach Lilium and the shrine, the group would need to cross a perilous desert, where the rays of the sun would be so merciless that the unprepared would easily die. Unaccustomed to such warm weather, Schwartz and Violett struggled with the inclemency of the climate, growing weaker with every step. However, Schwartz was not willing to abandon his mission, even at his own health’s peril, and he continued his trip until he grew gravely ill.

~ ° ~

“You’re not writing this right now, but one could think you were expecting me to question your abilities and you kindly decided to get some petty revenge on Schwartz,” Vil said flatly, as his eyes dangerously narrowed, throwing daggers at Ann.

“Excuse me, I would be incapable of doing that, Vil-senpai.”

“Have you forgotten the time your hand slipped and your fist casually connected with Rook’s jaw? Or the time you-”

“That was a legit reason to punch him, okay?” Ann pouted as she folded her arms in front of her. “And we don’t need to talk about other things, go on and keep reading.”

~ ° ~ 

Taking a detour, the group reached the land of Oleaceae in hopes of finding a doctor to treat Schwartz and Violett. In their search, they found a pair of young men running away from a large group of pursuers. Ill and weakened, Schwartz still led the party to defend and protect the men in need of help, learning that the people running away, a dancer by the name of Asfar and his servant Burtiqali had been wrongly accused of murdering Asfar’s father. Even if Asfar had chosen to distance himself from his father’s business, one of the largest spice traders in Oleaceae and the land, he was the heir to the family and people within the clan wanted to get rid of the father and son to claim the business for themselves.

After a narrow escape from Oleaceae, the group learned that Burtiqali was a proficient chemist, and he provided relief to Schwartz and Violett, in gratitude for helping them escape. With no place to go, Asfar and Burtiqali decided to travel with Schwartz, hoping to find a way to clear Asfar’s name if they reached Lilium and found the hero Weiss.

Meanwhile in the Lilium Kingdom, word of Schwartz’s quest reached the ears of Weiss.

“Someone sullied is not fit to be a hero, only those pure can be one. Envy, jealousy, those emotions are unbecoming. A hero is a beacon of hope, a model to follow, a paragon of virtue. Someone who is envious of the natural course of things is not fit to be a hero.”

Those were the words of the beloved hero, the next in line to inherit Durendal. He looked at the eyes of his loyal knights, seven brave men who would follow Weiss wherever he went, taking his word almost as if it came from the heavens. Anyone wishing to follow the right path would look closely at the Prince of Lilium, with his bright and kind features and no darkness in his eyes. For his sake, they would even shut their hearts, to do what was right.

If Schwartz was willing to attack the hero, they would prevent him from even touching a single strand of the hero’s hair. A villain must never win, and good will always defeat, vanquish evil. In these times of crisis, with the kingdom’s growing unrest year after year caused by the Zantedeschia, the populace was suffering. Inequality, famine, disease, they had been slowly creeping in Lilium, and Schwartz’s arrival would be the key to opening the forbidden box.

Thus, they needed to bring swift judgement to the villain trying to usurp power once more.

~ ° ~ 

“A paragon of virtue, the meaning of a hero,” Vil uttered those words, almost wounded.

“In my world, the origin of the word ‘Hero’ was one meaning Defender.”

“It’s the same as this world. Color me surprised, though, I wouldn’t put you as a reader.”

“How rude, senpai, even after all this time you still think the worst of me.” Ann pretended to sigh dramatically, though Vil just rolled his eyes. “You probably think I spend my time thinking of how to annoy you and picking my nose.”

He let out a chuckle, his now trademark sardonic smile aimed at her. “Given how much you neglect your appearance, would you blame me for believing it?”

~ ° ~ 

As they traveled, the burden of his secret mission weighed heavily on Schwartz’s shoulders, as he found himself growing attached to his companions. Keeping an aloof distance and not hiding his critical tongue and stoic and strict nature, he had assumed they would be simply people he would be using to achieve his goals. Schwartz had always been alone and feared by everyone, so he hadn’t expected anything else. The kind interaction of these people made him at times believe they could be friends, something he had once thought impossible.

After all, no one knew better than him that he was sullied with jealousy and anger, stains perhaps too deep in his soul to be the hero recognized by Durendal. After all, the legendary sword would only choose someone who was a hero and the more Schwartz looked at himself in the mirror, the further he traveled in his journey, the more he believed himself to be the villain, just as his ancestors before him.

~ ° ~ 

This time, Vil had no snappy retort or effusive reaction. Instead, he solemnly stared at the words in front of him, his lips pressed together into a thin line. He wouldn’t admit aloud that Schwartz’s feelings were hitting too close to home, the traces of his Overblot still lingering in his thoughts. His own failings caused his heart to be tainted with ink and even to his day, he struggled with his wish to be cast once as a hero, to prove he wasn’t the villain everyone appointed and believed he was.

His eyes briefly met Ann’s, before he diverted his gaze. He recalled the times she had called him several things, such as kind, that he, to this day, did not believe he was, and he wondered if there were some of those feelings portrayed in the script in his hands.

She didn’t say anything, as she quietly looked at him with a warm soft smile, in hopes that he kept on reading to find the answer he was suddenly seeking for.

~ ° ~

Just as the travelers arrived at the shrine where Durendal rested, Schwartz came to face his sworn enemy, Prince Weiss, the paragon of goodness and the hero of the land. He almost laughed maniacally, as the seven holy knights came to protect him. It would truly be a fight of good and evil, and for once he decided to unveil his ugly mask to the oblivious people who wrongly decided to accompany him.

~ ° ~ 

“Did you honestly write ‘Fighting scene goes here’?” Vil arched an eyebrow, with a dismissive and almost stunned glare at Ann, who simply blinked in return.

“Do I look like I know how those kind of fighting scenes normally go in a script?”

“Shouldn’t you know it? You ARE writing this after all.”

“You can make it up as you want.” Ann waved her hand nonchalantly, and Vil let out a groan. The nerve of the girl to leave out the most important part of the scene, and he thought of thousand ways to express his utter shock and frustration. Ann huffed. “If you really want it, you can pretend I wrote you kick Neige in the balls…Ah, but be careful with your heels, you might break his baby-making machine and that might give you trouble.”

“Baby. Making. Machine.”

“His dick, senpai. You break his dick.”

Vil’s blank expression was on her for a couple of seconds, before his line of sight was interrupted by her gently shoving the script toward his face.

~ ° ~ 

The knights defeated and Weiss wounded, Schwartz would lift his sword, deep in anger to decapitate his nemesis, at the protest of his friends. The anger of knowing that his family had been shunned for years for crimes they never committed, Schwartz finding himself damned for the only reason of being born under the Zantedeschia name fueled his fatal blow. As the sword fell like a guillotine, an arrow threw it away from its trajectory, his friends deciding to oppose him in a battle they knew they might lose. But they would face him because they knew what kind of person Schwartz truly was, cold and aloof, but secretly caring, and they didn’t want him to commit a heinous crime.

Somehow, his words reached Schwartz, horrified at the monster he had become. Falling on his knees, he threw away his magic tome and his sword, realizing he was no hero, he was the villain awaiting his execution. He would no longer be capable of wielding Durendal, no, the idea of wielding it was ridiculous from the very beginning. And to wound him further, his close knight Vert had picked up the Legendary Sword, handing it to a wounded Weiss, as he protected him from any harm on their escape.

“I was hoping you would recognize your own worth without needing external validation. You do not need Durendal. The wielder of Durendal is the one who shines like the sun, the most beautiful at heart. One day, you will surely be recognized, farewell, Schwartz, but my heart truly lies with Weiss, who is unclouded by sin and is as radiant as any star.”

Vert’s betrayal caused everyone to fall back, taking everyone by surprise. While Asfar, Burtiqali and Ai had caught grasp of Schwartz’s true intentions, they never realized Vert had sent a warning to Lilium. Tending their wounds, Schwartz finally explained the truth he had concealed.

Long ago, as a great war emerged, the Zantedeschia were one of many houses caught in the strife. Fighting to protect their territory and lending a hand to nearby lands, they grew in power, and lords of other lands deemed them too dangerous. While they hadn’t invaded other kingdoms, they were plagued by fear, and decided to vanquish them before they could do anything. And thus, they imparted their judgement and executed most of the royal family except for one who managed to escape, keeping the bloodline alive and hiding at the ends of the world.

They gave the honor to a random lowborn house, the Lilium, as they would make the better heroes for a loving fairytale. A chivalrous story of the good and weak defeating the evil and strong. Pinning all of their internal problems on the Zantedeschia, they decided it was for the best to brand them as the evil of the world, and thus it would be allowed to destroy them. Because Durendal happened to choose the prince of Lilium, they could embellish their tale which was no more than political machinations to benefit just a small few, while giving crumbs of justice to the unknowing folk.

And thus, with the passage of time, the world would know of the story of the evil Zantedeschia and the good Lilium and it became the truth for everyone. Except for the surviving bloodline of the Zantedeschia who relayed their truth to their successors, hoping that one day, they would finally be acquitted of something they never committed. And if Durendal chose any of them, then it would finally be proof that they weren’t the evil they were always thought to be.

“Did you want to wield Durendal for yourself or for your bloodline and your people?” Ai had posed this question to Schwartz, who had tried everything and had failed.

“For them, but also for myself, though it no longer matters. Someone like me isn’t meant to be a hero. Which Legendary Sword would choose a murderer driven by jealousy? Which kind of people would follow a hero tainted by anger, envy, and resentment? Weiss is as radiant as the sun, I am the cold moon doomed to die at every dawn.”

“I don’t believe you are the villain you have convinced yourself to be, nor is that one born a hero. If you still wish to try, there is still time for you to see if Durendal has rejected you.”

“Even if it doesn’t choose me, I want my clan’s name to be cleared for sins pinned on us.”

Because of Schwartz coming to Lilium, the official ceremony for Weiss to become the next wielder was rushed and would be before he was of age. It was also to quell people’s anger, as their issues in their land had become unbearable to wear and a hero would bring peace to the people, as Weiss truly believed with all of his heart. To bring light to cast away the shadows, he would take his place as the hero.

Apologizing for what he had done, Schwartz asked his friends if they would accompany in a final quest. If he were to be fought and executed, so be it, and if he was never to become Durendal’s wielder, so be it, but at least, he would want to denounce the infamy his family had been accused of. He would accept his death if it at least meant the truth was finally known, and with it the Zantedeschia would be no more. He was surprised when everyone decided to go on with the journey, everyone knowing what kind of man he was, and wishing to support him one last time.  Thus, Schwartz and his friends traveled to Lilium to set right what was wrong.

“I am Prince Schwartz Zantedeschia from the Araceae Kingdom and I have come to reclaim the innocence of my people, unjustly accused in the past of crimes they did not commit. If I have to fight the hero chosen by Durendal, so be it! But on this day, the truth shall be known!”

“I will not let you, Prince Schwartz,” Prince Weiss proclaimed. “The Zantedeschia have become the evil of this land, and will be purged once more. You even wanted to steal this holy blade, someone like you is unfit to be Durendal’s wielder.”

Prince Weiss fought Prince Schwartz, not letting him say anything else. And deeply wounded after so many battles, Prince Schwartz fell on his knee, the sign of his loss and imminent execution. With a heavy movement, Prince Weiss swung Durendal, only to find that it wouldn’t even touch one strand of Schwartz’s hair, falling to the ground and staying there unmoving no matter how hard Weiss tried to lift it.

For Durendal would never harm the wielder it had chosen.

Surprising everyone, Schwartz included, he found himself picking up the sword, glowing as beautifully as the sun, a sign it had picked his newfound hero. However, before anyone could rejoice, the flames of revolution stormed into place, as Schwartz and his friends had to flee Lilium.

~ ° ~ 

“And that’s when the first movie ends,” Ann chirped happily as Vil closed the script having finished reading it, “setting up the second one where Weiss goes batshit evil because he wasn’t the chosen hero as his land falls into shambles because of a revolution unfolding because the government was trash. Schwartz and his friends had to flee and embark on a journey to unfold a thousand year conspiracy and reveal the people behind the scenes of every tragedy. Burtiqali might or might not have to face the fact he kinda murdered Asfar’s dad and tried to set Asfar up but it blew up on him. Ai and Hai try to go back home, Violet has to reevaluate his relationship with Schwartz, tension between Vert and Scwhartz for the treason he committed, and Azure and Vermillion try to redeem themselves from their petty felonies while working as comic relief.”

Vil blinked for a moment before bursting out laughing for a couple of minutes. “A sequel, really? You even thought that far?”

“There are too many developments to fit in one movie. This isn’t a cash-grab sequel, it’s because the plot is too heavy to work in only one.”

“Pffft!” Vil couldn’t even stop himself from making that grin, between condescending and touched. “I didn’t know you had quite the imagination, I know you make a comic and you made your friends cry with it, but I didn’t expect a conspiracy for Legendary Sword. You truly never watched any of the films, the sword’s name is Excalibur by the way.”

“I knew the name, but Durendal fits better, duh. The meaning of Durendal’s name has been debated actually, but a common point is how it resists and endures. It was a sturdy sword, so of course it would endure, that is why it had to be the Legendary sword here.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow your obtuse logic, Ann.”

“If you’ve read as much as you claim to have, you will concede that former heroes weren’t good-natured people. It was a term given to those humans who defied all odds to achieve something impossible. In fact, many of them were terrible people struggling with vices. It was with time, especially modern times, that the word hero morphed into what we see, the pure-hearted paragon of goodness.”

“I almost poisoned Neige. How many heroes kill their rival in a fit of jealousy?”

“I like reading, and I realized the most valuable heroes weren’t the ones who never did wrong, but the ones who faced their own weaknesses and demons, and at their lowest, they could go on. You aren’t born a hero, you become one. Durendal chose Schwartz because he was willing to live on with his resentment and envy and help others. Durendal recognized Schwartz’s struggles and the time and effort he had spent all his life, trying to live up to his own morals. He saved people he encountered because it was the right thing to do, even if it was at odds with his goals. Would you call a villain someone who helps others out of the wishes of their heart?”

Vil opened his mouth to refute everything she had said, but Ann lifted a hand, a sign she wasn’t even done.

“You didn’t harm Neige in the end, and you overblotted because you regretted what you were going to do. You had a moment of weakness because you bottled it all in and because you are human. But your weakness doesn’t define your worth, it’s how you deal with your failures and faults what does. I told you, didn’t I? You are a hero, Vil. And I thought of making a story for the hero you deserved to represent.”

“…You depicted what happened during the VDC. That is no original story,” he mumbled, though he wasn’t mocking her. In fact, he was saying it to try to confront his own mixed feelings, at how she had turned his own struggles in a story of him being the hero. To be seen at his worst, yet being given this…

“It stops being based on that at the end, and there’s still the sequel, don’t forget. I haven’t finished it, but it can be a future birthday gift, right? I am a no-name person, but I’m giving it to you so you can give it to a director or a producer or a big shot and tell him ‘Hey, I got this great idea for a movie’. Obviously, you are Schwartz, the description was there so no one would get funny ideas of casting Neige.”

“You have no idea how these things work. No one will take me seriously if I hand them this.”

“Then arrange for someone to hand it to them then, duh.”

Vil chuckled. “Of course, I might follow your whims, if you behave well. Though I can’t say I hated this gift, you’d better improve your written action scenes next time.” There was no way he was giving this to Adella.

With a bright smile, not knowing that her gift would never reach the light of any studio, Ann excused herself, not before waving at him as she disappeared from the corridor. Vil himself reached his own room, carefully closed the door and threw himself on his bed. The script was carefully held between his arms, as he sighed.

“What a naïve girl, no one would make this film,” he said to no one, disappointed.

Vil knew how the industry worked. Such a story as the one depicted in this tale deviated too much from the norm to become a mainstream film and the budget needed was too large for an independent studio. Thus, only Vil would know of this story, the story of Schwartz Zantedeschia.

Even so, he held the script tightly against his heart, as he closed his eyelids to hide the tears forming in his eyes.

-

This has a lot of Author’s notes to make things more understandable.

Every character’s name is, as you might have guessed, based on a particular color. The color designation was depending on the origin of the fairy tale. Schwartz (Vil), Weiss (Neige) and Violett (Epel) got the German names for the colors black, white and violet, respectively. Vert (Rook) is the only exception, his name coming from French for green, this is to highlight that in the end he is a traitor of sorts to Schwartz.

Azure (Deuce) and Vermillion (Ace)’s original story hails from England, so they got variants of blue and red. Aladdin was written by a Syrian author, so Asfur (Kalim) and Burtiqali (Jamil) are the Arabic words for yellow and orange. I don’t know Arabic, so I am not sure if that’s the proper way you’d spell those words in the English alphabet, so if you find any mistakes, please let me know. Finally, while Ann comes originally from England, her character Ai and Hai (Grim) are in a way from Japan, so they are the Japanese words for indigo and gray.

Every character’s last name comes from a particular flower. Schwartz’s comes from Zantedeschia, or the calla lily. The calla lily can be found in a purple color so deep it might even look black. In spite of its name, it is not a true lily, hence it comes from the Zantedeschia genus and from the Araceae family. In the language of flowers, it represents beauty (hence ‘calla’, beautiful in Greek), purity, holiness, faithfulness, rebirth and resurrection. Funny though, the flower IS poisonous because of course Vil gets a poisonous flower.  :^)

Meanwhile, Weiss’s Leiron is the Greek word people believe referred to the white Madonna lily, and his Kingdom’s name is Lilium, the Genus for the lily flowers. Lilies have different meanings, depending on the color. White ones represent virginity, purity and modesty, while yellow ones represent falsehood and gaiety and orange means hatred. It is used in funerals in the west and are actually poisonous as well.

The other kingdoms come from the family of the Roses (Heartslabyul people), Chrysanthemums (Ann and Grim), and Jasmine (Kalim and Jamil). Because the author of the story of Aladdin is from Syria, I picked the national flower from that country.

Also, it’s ok Vil, you can make it an anime, or you can blackmail Crowley for $$$ and make it your club’s pet project :^)  Ehehehe

It was longer than expected, but I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for reading!

[kyluxtitleception]

Full Title List

These are all the titles that we had for this years Titleception! If you see a title you like here, you can always use it and feel free to add it to the collection!

Ending My Husband Curse of the Light Pleasing my Leader Soldiers of the Forest Still Breathing in the Ashes Thief of Dusk Adopting the Dark Songs of my Home Assassin of Hell Admiring the Shadows Enhancing the Light Hunted by Secrets Influence of Darkness Cats and Hunters Enemy of Nightmares Vanish at the Moon Witches Without Honor Misfortune of Rainbows Rebels of Nightmares Awakening the Darkness Choice of Fire Bandits and Pilots Rats of Fire Obliteration Without Courage Army of Dawn Horses of the Solstice Sailing into the Ashes Vanishing into the Fires Lord of the Curse Argument of the Ancients Rebel of the End Guardians Without Hope Scourge of the Great Battle the Void Admiring the Apocalypse Controlling the Dark Laughing at my Future Danicing in the Moon Choking in the Future Rebels and Rats Deceiving my Friends Boys of the Sea Knight of the Void Scared at the End Invited by the Light Fortune of the Forest Running in Secrets Union Without a Goal Ignoring the Emperor Lord Without Shame Battling in a Storm Choice of the Night Means of the Forsaken Death of Dreams Question the Shadows Blood at the Mountains Planet Without Glory Vulture of the Solstice Growing in the Darkness Ending Secrets Companion of Despair Ending the Sun Life at the Abyss Symbols in the Darkness Union of Dread End of Sorrow Ruination of the Gods Punished by the Darkness Destiny Without Duty Mice and Officers Rat of the End Whispers in the Stars Defenders and Bandits King of the Forsaken Invader of the Night Honor of Hell Ruins of Power Symbols of the Void Whispers in the Mist Pilots of the Eclipse Victory Without Hope Friends of the Prison Foe of the End Misfortune of Nightmares Armies of Fire Challenging the Dark Trees and Enemies Bleeding in my Home Adopting my Future Shield of Time Going to the Darkness Never Trust the Hunter Invader Without Flaws Savior Without Shame Cats and Rebels Heirs and Heroes Inventing the Night Assassins of Rainbows Opponent of Desire Enemy of Earth Millicent's Bad Day Who Touched My Cheese A Surplus Of Kittens Mitaka Gets A Shock Space Cakes Two Idiots Get Married My Boss Made Me Marry My Shitty Coworker. (You won’t believe what happens next!) Winged Shadows An Inconvenient Attachment Splintered Heart Black Silk Court of the Immortals Inferno Dreams Believing in Angels Stuck on the Good Side Créme de la créme and you said Kiss me Looking at you sideways You're a Sunflower There and Bopped Again Millicent, Millenials, and the Mummies Once Upon a Tattooine I Would Rip the Sky Asunder The Fall of Yesterday Old Souls You Will Find Peace at My Feet Our Shared Salt Two Truths and a Lie Hate at First Sight You Will Eat the Heart and You Will Enjoy It Return to Imbalance Apocryphon Holding Hands and Blushing Why the hell is it you? Everything the Light Touches Don't Push It The Curious Taste of Benjamin's Butthole Norwoods, Zillo Beasts, and Acklays Fate Fell Short Dr Ren’s love shack I don't love you A Finalizer Wedding Such a Lonely Day Accidents Happen My Sweet Revenge An Unquiet Mind Don't ever try to fly Closer to the Edge The Sun Comes After Rain Another Victim of Love Time Will Heal It All Knife Through My Heart Don't Keep Me Waiting I Really Wish I Hated You Underneath the Landslide Lost and All Alone Walking On Air Don't Wanna Let Go The End of the Line Living in Chaos Twelve Majestic Lies Man Overboard Crime Doesn't Pay Terror Rising Celestial Bond One Man Army Meet the Enemy Everything Remains as it Never Was Stargazer Blood of Heroes The Great Escape Weapons of Ass Destruction End of an Empire Off to the Hunt Before the Morning Sun Nightmare Come True My Evil Love A Light So Lonely Taken Apart You want to put what where? why do flowers always die? Balls Deep Tater Tots Stand Up and Fight See the Sky Turn Bright In the Darkest Hour Zen and the Art of Finalizer Maintenance Of the days that are to come Your Memory in my Mind Where Treasures Lie Down Distant Paths Alone Somewhere Afar There Fell a Shooting Star Lonely Spirits Flickering Heart Turned to Dust Smoldering Serenity Say It Ain't So Freefall Awaits the Brave Where the Cliff Meets the Sea In My Sword I Trust

[violetsmoak]

Philtatos [13/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47690671

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #fatal flaw #secrets #riddle #fate #revenge #oracle #betrayal #prophecy #jealousy

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

Tim feels a little bad about using Jason’s skin hunger against him but only for a moment. Any concern about that vanishes when he peeks back at Jason as they walk, and observes the color returning to the other man’s cheeks. The hand clasped in his own stops shaking the longer they touch.

Tim has never been one to enjoy holding hands—often he’s felt uncomfortable or self-conscious, worrying about sweaty fingers or whether the other person might consider it lame—but this doesn’t feel like that.

This feels right.

It’s actually concerning how right it feels, especially in light of his recent discussion with Steph.

Stop it. This isn’t about you. It’s about putting Jason at ease.

They return to the containment unit to find Barbara facing down Eros—an impressive feat considering she’s in a wheelchair and he’s the one looking down on her. Her face is drawn in irritation, and he’s gratified to see that Eros seems put-out about something.

“Took you long enough. Cherry here says she’s got a bonafide prophecy from the Oracle of Delphi and wouldn’t share it until you got back.” He eyes their entwined hands and leers. “I take it the domestics are going well?”

“Get bent,” Tim snaps in irritation as Jason tugs his hand back so fast he might as well have been burned.

“Only if you do the honors, pretty boy.”

Jason growls and makes a move for his gun, but Tim reaches out to stop him.

“Can you not tease him?” he demands of Eros. “Especially when the only reason he’s like this is because of you.”

“Oh, if only you knew…”

Before Tim can comment on that, Jason interrupts.

“What’s the feathered freak talkin’ about?” he snaps, radiating tension. “What prophecy?”

“The one Signal was able to recover from the girl that was killed,” Barbara says coolly. “He transcribed it and sent it along. Do you want to hear it, or do you want to keep acting like a child?”

This she directs at Eros, who actually does look chastised a beat, before gracing her with a cool smile.

“I guess it is apropos if you do the honors, darlin’,” Eros says with a cool smile. “Is it ironic or coincidental if someone who stole the title of oracle interprets a prophecy from the actual Oracle of Delphi?”

“Who cares? This whole situation is making me hate both irony and coincidence,” Tim says.

“It’s making me wonder if there are any coincidences,” Jason mutters, eyes fixed on Eros in intense dislike.

Barbara offers him an identical look, before thumbing the screen of her phone and opening her incoming messages.

Then she begins to read:

“The Unseen darkness cannot keep its captive thrice for mortal masks the divine that seeks its reward in the city where dark nights conceal the greatest of secrets.

“Crossed beneath the stars when the Rager’s Moon is full, eternal freedom is neigh upon the eleventh moment of the small hour.The sacrifice of the virgin gifts triumph to the prisoner and that which drowned in Lethe’s tears is reborn.

“But take heed, for the winged scion of Cythera, willingly blinded by the veil of vengeance revealed by Discord’s most cursed boon, awakens the warrior guided by the Physicians heir.

“Fury dooms the fair, heralding the return of magnificent Alexandros and one whose name is painted in blood and stone.

“Greatest of loves, damned by the gleam of a golden barb, torn asunder by jealousy and parted by cruel death, they will stand against Strife.

“Titans will rise and one who Death names hero, betrayed yet shielded by love, will sunder the chains of Aidoneus and avenge the victim of grievance. One will be born anew, the other bound eternally to Stygian Darkness.”

There is silence as she puts the phone down, eyebrows drawn together in thought.  

“What?” Tim says.

“I see your ‘what’ and raise you a ‘the fuck’,” Jason adds. “Does any of that make sense to anyone else? Because it don't make sense to me.”

“Blame my uncle,” Eros says, apparently annoyed.

“What? Why?” Tim wants to know. “Which one’s he?”

“Apollo,” Barbara says, still considering the puzzling words on the screen. “Aside from being a sun god, he was also the god of prophecy.”

“Talking in riddles is his favorite pastime,” Eros agrees. “It’s a pain in the ass.”

“I’ll bet,” Tim agrees. “We’ve got someone like that here in Gotham.”

“Yeah, and he’s a frequent guest of Arkham, so what’s that tell you?” Jason grumbles.

“That people who come up with riddles have too much time on their hands.”

“There’s a reason the Oracles of Delphi didn’t put their predictions into simple words,” Barbara points out. ”If you give people information about what’s coming, how do you know you’re not ensuring it will or won’t come to pass? It was important for them to be seen as the medium of the message and not an agent.

“By keeping information vague, it would seem like they were allowing a querant the chance to defy fate, while at the same time allowing fate to take its natural course, whatever that might be,” Eros agrees. “Ans it was good insurance. Even Oracles needed to cover their asses. You were less likely to get your head lopped off by a visiting king that received news he didn’t want to hear. And whatever the outcome, they could still say, ‘we told you so’.” He considers Barbara. “You know, I don’t usually find brainy sexy, but you might just turn me.”

“I’m thrilled,” she deadpans.

“So what’s all this supposed to mean, anyway?” Tim asks, trying to bring the discussion back to the matter at hand.

“It could mean anything. Though to start with, that bit about ‘unseen darkness’, that’s an epithet for the Underworld in old Hellenic documents.”

“We called it that in the old days,” Eros confirms.

“And then there’s the part about someone captive in Hades.”

“I thought Hades was a person?” Tim says.

“It is. But it’s also a place.” Jason tells him.

“It depends on what story and what source you’re drawing from,” Barbara elaborates. “And what translation.”

“What about the next bit? About mortal maskin' the divine?”

“Could that mean whoever’s possessing Carrie Cutter?” Tim suggests. “We’ve already established she’s got help from a god, and if they’re inhabiting her body even for short amounts of time, it’s a pretty effective mask.”

“No doubt,” Eros agrees. “Not so sure about that part with dark nights, but I guess it’s referring to this cesspool you people call a city.”

Tim, Jason and Barbara exchange glances, knowing exactly how dark nights and secrets relate to their city.

Maybe Duke misheard. It might not be dark ‘nights’ so much as dark ‘knights’. Which makes sense, considering Bruce and Dick both have that title depending on the day.

“Safe to say it’s Gotham,” Tim confirms. “So all that begs the question, do you have any idea who’s locked in the Underworld trying to get out?”

Eros snorts. “The better question is who isn’t locked in the Underworld.”

Jason is glaring furiously at Eros, clearly growing tired of his evasive and snarky answers. The way his fists clench, Tim suspects he’s close to throwing a punch at the glass in frustration. Not something Tim wants to see, especially given Jason’s injuries from their altercation with Carrie Cutter and Dick haven’t even been seen to yet.

God, it feels like it was days ago but it was only hours. He probably came right here to confront Eros without even looking after himself.

He has to put that out of his mind for now. Deciphering any clues in the prophecy takes momentary precedence.

“…. A lot of myths end with someone displeasing a god and getting sent to Tartarus, so he has a point,” Barbara is saying, her thumbs busily texting something on her phone.

“So that’s not going to tell us anything,” Tim decides. “What about the ‘crossed beneath the stars’ part?”

“More of the same in terms of pinpointing when everything is supposed to happen,” Eros says.

“Which is when?”

“November twenty-third,” Barbara says, frowning at the small screen in her hand.

Jason looks askance. “How d’you know?”

“'Moon’ equates to month, and another name for Zeus was the Rager,” she replies. “So, Zeus’s month. According to the Athenian calendars we still have access to, Zeus’s month was Maimakterion—which in modern times would fall somewhere between November and December. And the next full moon—” She holds up her phone, showing a lunar calendar for the month, “—falls on November twenty-third. It’s the only full moon that falls during Maimakterion.”

Eros nods along in approval. “What she said.”

“And the small hour?”

“Midnight.”

“So, whatever’s supposed to happen is going to happen eleven minutes after midnight…assuming that’s what moment means,” Tim muses, glancing at his own phone calendar. “That’s this Friday.”

“Five days from now,” Jason agrees, and side-eyes Tim. “We’ve all had shorter deadlines.”

“That’s not necessarily referring to your deadline, sweet cheeks,” Eros reminds him. “I figure you have about half that.”

“No thanks to you.”

“You know, the last Jason I knew wasn’t this whiny.”

“Children,” Barbara says sharply. “Let’s stay focused, shall we? I’m concerned about this virgin sacrifice part—specifically the part where it ensures success for someone we probably don’t want to succeed.”

“Cutter did kill that girl,” Tim reminds them. “Maybe it was some kind of offering, so she’d be successful at whatever she’s trying to do.”

“It’s a good an explanation as anything else,” Eros agrees, examining his nails. “We always did love our human sacrifices. And a virgin does increase the likelihood of something working out to your advantage.”

“You’re a piece of shit,” Jason growls. “That’s a kid you’re talking about!”

“And as an Oracle of Delphi she’s entitled to an eternity of bliss once she enters the Underworld,” Eros dismisses. “It’s a better end than some people are entitled to.”

Jason’s eyes blaze as if that’s a personal insult. Tim can certainly empathize.

“What about the second part?” he prompts. “What’s Lethe?”

“The Lethe was the river the souls drank from to forget their previous lives before being reincarnated,” Barbara explains.

 “The Ancient Greeks believed in reincarnation? But I thought that was something from the Far East?”

“Many ancient cultures had a concept of reincarnation beyond the Hindu and Buddhist mythos,” Barbara explains. “Just look at the belief systems of the indigenous peoples of North America and you’ll see countless examples. And they didn’t have any contact with the civilizations of Asia during the time when those faiths were evolving.”

Beside Tim, Jason is as stiff as a board and appears to be having trouble breathing. Automatically, Tim edges closer to him, and though he doesn’t outright take his hand—he leans into him, nudging him with his shoulder.

Jason’s eyes dart to him for a moment, and he relaxes incrementally.

“How does that relate here though?” Barbara wants to know.

“Maybe the prisoner forgot something,” Eros suggests, not sounding very interested.

“Or maybe whoever’s tryin' to escape Hades as made to forget something,” Jason counters darkly.

“Only mortals can be made to forget by drinking from the Lethe,” Barbara says. “The prisoner could have been human. Salmoneus or Tantalus or one of the Dainads.”

Tim doesn’t even get a chance to question who they are before Eros interrupts. “Actually, it’s a little broader than just mortals. More like mortals, demigods that haven’t consumed ambrosia, giants, hybrids—”

“So again, we’re back to a broad spectrum of people it could be talkin' about,” Jason complains. “Great. Is there anyone or anything in this stupid prophecy that isn��t doublespeak?”

“Well, the next verse is pretty self-explanatory. Obviously, we’re talking about yours truly,” Eros says, pointing at himself. “What other 'winged son' do you know from mythology?”

“A case could be made for Pegasus.”

“No, it’s Eros,” Tim says. “Cythera’s another name for Aphrodite.” Everyone looks at him in surprise.

“How do you know that?” Jason asks, but where the emphasis ought to suggest incredulity, he sounds impressed.

Tim tries not to bask in that.

“My parents used to visit the island of Cythera a lot when they weren’t on business trips, especially before I was born. It was their favorite vacation destination. Full of history, not touristy—they didn’t like having to socialize with people when they were on vacation.”

Tim falls silent then, remembering sitting in his living room with his parents, pouring over their vacation photos of the Mediterranean island while they told stories. They’d always promised to take him one day…

He glances up and notices the others are watching him now—Eros with a sharp, calculating gaze while Jason appears concerned. As for Barbara, she seems to sense his discomfort, because she navigates them past the lull. “Okay, so if it’s Eros, what are you wanting revenge for? It’s not exactly your M-O.”

“I can think of a few people who have it coming,” Eros answers. “Starting with my mother.”

“What’d she do?” Tim asks.

“Do you have a few centuries worth of couch time?”

“Isn’t she the reason your wife died?” Barbara wants to know. “In the myth, she survived, but Tim told me that's not what happened in reality.”

Eros expression goes cold.

“That’s right,” Tim remembers; he and Eros had this conversation a few days ago, didn’t they? “Aphrodite is the one who sent Psyche to the underworld.”

Eros bares his teeth. “One of her many sins, but not the only one.”

“Then couldn’t the prophecy maybe be referring to her? Psyche, I mean? Maybe she’s the prisoner.”

“Are you implying my wife is the one behind your Cupid’s actions?” Eros growls. “Because that’s impossible.”

“How would you know? It could be—”

“Because she died a mortal! Her soul is mortal and wouldn’t have the power to escape the Underworld in any capacity! Furthermore, Psyche would never kill or arrange the death of anyone! She was good and pure of soul and that’s why I fell in love with her.”

“That’s not what I read,” Barbra says. “Didn’t you prick yourself on one of your golden arrows while watching her?”

“I pricked myself because I fell in love with her,” he snaps. “I’ve already told Jason here that the arrows only work to magnify emotions that are already there.”

“That makes no sense. You liked her before you made yourself fall in love with her?”

“Look, you know the story: Psyche was beautiful. So much so, that the idiots in her kingdom started treating her like a living goddess, bringing the gifts meant for my mother to this human princess. You can guess how well that went over.”

“Right. She sent you to make her fall in love with a horrible beast.”

“Yeah, one of Diomedes mares. Gorgeous animals—people would stop and stare at them for hours. Also, vicious, flesh-eating beasts. Just getting to close to one of those and it would have ripped her to shreds—and she would have stood there and let it.” Eros’ expression becomes soft, eyes faraway at the memory. “If she had been some arrogant, selfish royal I would have let it happen. But I watched her for days while I tried to put her in the path of that thing. And everything she did was just good and kind. I had never seen as pure a soul like hers.” He shakes his head. “The idea of a girl like that being sent to her death just because a bunch of idiot humans had the audacity to praise her alongside my mother didn’t seem fair.”

“And you’re all about fair, aren’t you?” Jason sneers.

Tim has to agree; if Eros cared about fair, he would have been a lot more helpful about curing Jason and wouldn’t have demanded they find his diviners beforehand.

“I was young and stupid, and I didn’t realize the world didn’t work that way,” Eros dismisses. “Even for gods. I thought my mother would never want to harm me—and so if I put Psyche under my protection, she couldn’t hurt her. And if I could show my mother what a good wife Psyche was, even if she was unable to see me, it would prove the point.” He snorts. “It didn’t exactly go my way.”

“And there’s no way her soul could have somehow been corrupted when she died?”

“The Underworld is stagnant. There’s no such thing as change or time there. Everything occurs both in one moment and in all moments there.”

“So you’re saying a soul going in would remain in the same state as it was when it died,” Barbara posits.

“Exactly. How else do you expect the judges to judge souls if they kept changing after death? It’d be a headache.

“Then if it’s not Psyche, who else can you think of that it might be?”

“It might be more than one person,” Tim suggests. “That line about 'greatest of loves'—what if that’s why Carrie’s been targeting couples? She hears the prophecy—or whoever’s riding along inside her hears the prophecy—and thinks there’s a couple out there that’s going to stand against her. She could be trying to eliminate potential threats to her end goal.”

“If so, we need to decipher her criteria for choosing her victims. You already said it didn’t seem like they had anything in common.”

“We’ll have to check again. Maybe now that we’ve got this prophecy, something new will jump out.”

“We skipped a whole verse,” Jason points out. “The ‘warrior guided by the physician’s heir’. Any ideas?”

Eros shrugs. “Since the rest of the prophecy involves me, I’d say it’s me.”

“How do you figure?”

“The Physician is another name for Apollo.”

“So?”

“So, who do you think taught me archery? Next to him, I’m the greatest archer among the Olympians.”

“Or it could be Jason,” Tim ponders.

Jason seems to go pale, almost panicked. “What?”

“I mean, assuming you’re interpreting ‘awaken’ by activating the way you do with a sleeper agent. You infected him with your blood however accidentally and then pressed him into doing your dirty work.”

“I resent your tone, boy,” Eros grumbles, but Jason interjects, “And the other bit?”

“The other bit is just really literal,” Barbara catches on. “Jason, you were trained by Batman. Who was the heir to an actual physician. The M.D. kind.”

Thomas Wayne.

Jason looks like he doesn’t know what to do with that information. “Shit.”

Eros watches Jason, inscrutable eyes considering; Jason glares back at him as if waiting for him to make a comment.

“But if it’s Jason, the next bit wouldn’t make sense,” Barbara says after a moment. “‘Magnificent Alexandros’. The only Alexandros I can think of off the top of my head if Alexander of Macedon. But that doesn’t really track with the rest of the verse. He was a historical figure, not mythological.”

“That’s offensive, you know,” Eros drawls. “All those stories you call mythology actually happened.”

“Then why don’t we have an archaeological record for them?”

“Because screw you, that’s why.”

“If it is talking about Alexander the Great, Robin will be happy,” Tim says with a rueful smirk.

Jason is perplexed. “Why?”

“Apparently he was on the list of the kid’s League-approved childhood heroes. Mother-son bonding time seems to have included traveling in his footsteps as preparation for world domination.”

Jason looks surprised and amused. “Really?”

“Is it that surprising?”

“No, it’s just…” Jason shakes his head. “Never mind.” He clears his throat. “So, back to the prophecy. It talks about the Titans—are we talkin' the creatures the Olympian gods overthrew?”

“Well, whenever one of us mention the Titans, it is usually those bottom feeders rotting in Tartarus, yes,” Eros says dryly, inscrutable focussed on Jason. “Them going free is never a good thing. Don’t believe me, read the Titanomachy. Hesiod got it pretty close to right.”

“Could be the goal, could be the result,” Tim suggests.

“Which brings us back to possibly being on the lookout for more than one prisoner escaping Hades,” Barbara says.

“And all of that leads us to the typical ‘one shall live and one shall die’ device,” Eros concludes.

“Only we don’t know who either of those is.”

“I can tell you now if it’s a prophecy involving me, I have no intention of dying."

“If it’s even about you. It’s not really an exact science, interpreting this sort of thing,” Barbara warns. “Even an Olympian like you can misunderstand—there’s evidence of that in the myths. In fact, I’m sure we’re missing more than is good for us. It will take some time to decipher it and we need more information.”

“At least we have something,” Tim maintains. “The exact date when it’s going to happen and where. We can begin preparing for that.”

“It’s a whole hell of a lot to think about,” Jason agrees.

“Which you can do back at the Cave. We only came here to see if Eros could shed some light on the prophecy or see the arrows.”

“What arrows?”

“Wonder Girl told us that to reverse what’s been done to Nightwing is to remove the arrow that Carrie stabbed him with.”

“Uh, there is no arrow,” Jason says. “Cupid took it with her, remember?”

“I guess that answers that question,” Barbara sighs. “You can’t see them.”

“Of course he can’t,” Eros says. “I’m the only one that can see the wounds caused by my arrows. Even this pseudo-Cupid wouldn’t be able to see them.”

“After she stabbed Jason she seemed to be looking for something, so I’m not sure about that,” Tim argues.

“She can’t see them. Though it may be possible her divine passenger might. I don't know. Never had another god take my diviners before."

“Speaking of being stabbed,” Tim goes on, nodding at the bruises coming out on his face. There are likely more hidden by the leather jacket and gear. “You should get those looked at.”

“I didn’t physically get stabbed, you know. Magic wounds don’t need to be looked at.”

“You went toe-to-toe with an enhanced fighter and Batman. You could have internal bleeding for all we know.”

“If you think a little tussle with that dick is going to do lastin' damage—”

Tim cuts off his indignation. “I don’t, but you haven’t been eating or sleeping properly, and your system is already compromised, so how do you know what damage was or wasn’t done? You didn’t stay to get treated at the Cave.”

Their eyes meet, remembering exactly why that is, and Tim’s cheeks darken. Jason is the first to look away, though.

“It’s nothin'. I can patch myself up whenever.”

“I can help—”

“I’m good.”

“Jason—”

“I’m an adult and I’ve been treatin' myself without help for years now,” Jason interrupts tensely. When Tim can’t stop himself from flinching, Jason’s eyes flash with dismay. “I mean…” He flounders like he’s trying to take it back, and instead changes the subject. “Didn’t you say somethin' about a list? Maybe get started on that and I’ll do an injury check myself.”

It’s a clear cop-out, and if they were alone, Tim would be calling him on it.

“I’ll ask for help if I need any,” he adds, awkwardly, like it’s been a long time since anyone actually cared about his injuries being treated. 

Barbara glances between the two of them, obviously sensing the undertone, but not commenting on it. Instead, she says, “I don’t mind helping Jason. Besides, Red Robin needs to contact the Family and let them know what we know.”

“And I need food,” Eros says. “I haven’t eaten since before you went on your little reconnaissance mission. Can’t you see? I’m wasting away.”

 “If only,” Jason mutters.

Tim is torn, wanting to argue that he can help Jason, but at the same time trying to respect the other man’s obvious need for distance.

At last, he nods.

“Okay,” he says, feeling a little defeated. “Let’s take a break. I’ll make a food run…you get yourself fixed up.”

“Whatever you say, babybird.”

⁂

Once Tim vanishes, Barbie indicates with a jerk of her head that Jason should follow her upstairs to the Nest medbay. He knows better than to think it’s just her wanting to take a look at his injuries—like him, she’s probably looking for some privacy.

They take the elevator up in silence, and Jason wonders vaguely when the last time was, he was this close to Barbara Gordon.

I don’t think I have been, actually. We both avoid the manor unless there’s no choice. And we both have good reasons for it. And when we are there together, there’s usually about six to ten feet of distance between us.

They were never what he would call close before she was paralyzed and he died. Barbie was Dick’s girl and Jason’s occasional babysitter until the Joker ruined her life. And then she wasn’t around at all. Jason wasn’t alive to watch her painstakingly drag herself up and pull it together again, so he never got the chance to interact with the Barbara Gordon that became Oracle.

Since returning to Gotham he’s kept her at a distance as much as he did the rest of the Family, so it’s somewhat surprising to him that she’s here now and working to help him.

Probably it’s on account of Tim.

Still silent, they enter the surgically pristine room of the Nest’s medical wing—and Jason is a little jealous of the supplies here. It makes the kits he has in his safehouses about as sophisticated as a needle and threat.

Barbie watches him, framed in the doorway.

“Well? Spit it out,” he grunts, deciding to get whatever reprimands are forthcoming out of the way.

Her look turns sharp before she reaches into her jacket pocket for something; Jason can’t help tensing up, even though she knows the likelihood of her pulling a weapon on him are slim to none.

That suspicion is confirmed when she instead draws out a device and turns it on; there’s a high-pitched background whir that Jason recognizes as a listening device scrambler.

Clearly we’re both aware of what a paranoid freak Timbers can be.

“Okay, Jason, what’s going on?” she asks without preamble. “You know Tim only wants to help you.”

“Yeah, at his own expense,” he retorts sourly.

Barbies raises an eyebrow as if waiting for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, she presses, “You’re being cagey. And it’s more than just worrying about losing control around Tim, I can tell.”

“Oh you can, can you?” he challenges.

“I’ve known you since you were still desperately trying to live up to Dick while pretending like you didn’t care. I know when you’re hiding something,” she folds her arms. “Believe it or not, Jason, you’re a terrible liar when it comes to things that matter.”

It’s reflex to want to say something caustic to that, but he stops himself in time. He needs Barbara’s help and pissing her off isn’t going to make his life any easier.

“I need a favor,” he admits after a beat.

“Another one?” she repeats, sounding like she doesn’t believe him. “You’re going to owe me a lot.”

“Yeah, well, now would be the time to collect on those debts while I still can.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means everyone else is tiptoein' around the subject, but at some point, I’m gonna need to be put under,” he says, erring on the side of just enough truth to keep her from questioning him further. “We both know what I’m talkin' about here.”

As expected, Barbara only just keeps herself from visibly recoiling; she’s already ready with an argument. “You don’t know we won’t find something before that happens.”

“I’m already feelin' like I’m livin' in someone else’s skin—” Literally, in a way. “—I’m not gonna get any better than I am right now. We’ve already seen what it looks like when I dip toward worse. So while I’m still lucid, let me make my decisions. And my decision is, I’d rather go under while I’m still me instead of violent, mindless…reaver.”

Barbara does a minor double-take. “Did you just make a Firefly reference?”

“It’s the last series I was watching before I died,” Jason says, a little defensive.

“I’m not judging, just surprised. Dick and Tim are usually the ones making pop-culture references to deflect. I’m not used to it from you.”

“And I’m not used to you stallin',” he counters. “You’re different from the other Bats, O. You know how to cut your losses, and you know how to make decisions when no one else wants to think about it. You get makin' the hard calls. So, I’m gonna ask you: when it comes down to a choice between me and Tim—and I mean when, not if—who do you save?”

Something like pain passes over her face, and then resolve hardens her face. “Tim.”

“Exactly,” he approves. “Because unlike me, he’s good. And smart.”

“You’re both of those things, even if you pretend like you’re not,” she protests.

“And he hasn’t committed multiple murders,” Jason continues, acting like he didn’t hear her. “Not that what I’ve done wasn’t justified. It wasn’t good, but I don’t regret it because I will go to my grave believin' sometimes that line needs to be crossed. Again. But it’s still a line Tim’s been lucky enough not to have to cross.”

She doesn’t argue with him, instead inclines her head.

“More people will miss him if he were gone then they would me,” Jason concludes. “I’m not supposed to be here anyway.”

There’s a long beat of measuring silence. Then, Barbara sighs. “What is it you need, Jason?”

He tilts his chin in gratitude.

“I didn’t just come here to yell at Eros,” he admits. “If Wonder Woman doesn’t show up, he’s the only one I know who has access to the stuff I need.”

“The Stygian Sleep.”

“Yeah. But it’s probably in GCPD lock-up.” He gives her a quick run-down of events, minus anything about Eros’ intentional plan to infect him. Babs listens, jaw set and eyes narrowed; given what she just said about him, she likely knows he’s not being completely truthful, but his explanation clearly holds enough water that she doesn’t call him on it.

“I’ll get someone to look into it,” she decides at last.

Which, even though he’s relieved about, he’s also suspicious.

“And by ‘look into’ you mean grab hold of and perform a million tests on it before handin' it over,” he posits.

“Just because you’re hellbent on using something that’s effectively going to kill you doesn’t mean I don’t want to know everything about it first,” she says, unapologetic. “Like the prophecy, it might have clues about how to circumvent it.”

“Yeah, because we’re having so much luck with that.”

“Also, when Bruce comes to me later in a righteous fury for letting his son die a second time, I’ll be able to assure him we knew everything we did about it before making an informed decision.”

Jason doesn’t pretend to believe that’s the end of it. Barbara might be willing to humor Jason a little more than Bruce, or even Dick when he’s not compromised—she might even be a little more objective in considering things, but she’s not going to trust Jason’s plan to be the only plan. She’ll have her own contingencies, the same as any Bat.

The only difference with Babs is that once it’s over and done with, and it becomes clear there’s no saving him, she’ll have an easier time getting over it than Bruce will. And she won’t let it compromise her work.

Tim’s told Jason what Bruce and Dick were like after he died the first time, and if it happens again, Gotham needs someone competent in keeping things in check.

And Tim…

Jason’s heart thuds with guilt.

This time, Tim won’t just be sweeping in to pick up the broken pieces of Batman and Nightwing as he did as a kid. He won’t be watching it from the sidelines.

The memory hits him then. To his surprise, it’s not from Achilleus or Alexandros.

Jason hates Wayne Charity galas.

People are always staring at him, murmuring through pasted-on smiles that even if he couldn’t read lips, he would be able to hear the judgment dripping from their words. These people are so achingly dry and genteel, their teeth don’t even unclench around their vowels.

Bruce doesn’t make him come to all that many of these shindigs, thankfully; only the ones involving children’s advocacy and the like. Jason doesn’t mind those too much, considering their purpose. He just hates that even at those—like the one tonight—he’s the only kid that has to parade around in the straitjacket Alfred calls a tux.

He gets it, of course; he’s the poster-boy, the success story, a means of showing the rich snobs how well a dirty Crime Alley orphan can clean up so that they’ll open their checkbooks.

It doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Except for tonight, for the first time, he noticed another kid that’s been dragged along. A tiny boy whose meticulously fitted tux still manages to look too big for him.

A man and woman who must be his parents are chatting with another couple, seemingly oblivious to the way their son is staring into the distance, a neutrally polite expression fixed on his face. He might as well be sleeping standing up, and Jason has the odd suspicion that’s by design.

That makes his mouth twitch; maybe rich kids get bored with this kind of thing too.

Jason keeps staring across the manor ballroom until the strange kid senses his gaze and looks up. He grins when the boy’s eyes widen—their color is startling, even from across the room, and they take up practically his whole face—and wonders at the sudden flood of color in his cheeks.

He’s about to motion the boy over to the edge of the reception area—hanging out with another kid, even a little one, will definitely break up the monotony of the evening—when Bruce’s hand falls hard on his shoulder.

“Time to make an exit, son,” he says, voice quiet and intense and incongruent with the false smile he’s still beaming at everyone within a ten-foot radius. From the distracted note in his words, Jason doesn’t even need to look out the window to see the signal lighting up the sky. 

They meet Felipe Garzonas that night, and he doesn’t think of the boy again.

Jason shudders as the technicolor recollection fades out, his stomach twisting angrily.

He’s never made the connection between Tim and the boy at the fundraiser before. It occurs to him how stupid that was—at the same time it occurs to him that if not for that case that night, he might not have been on the outs with Bruce. He might have endured more Wayne event galas instead of limiting whatever time he was with Bruce to being Robin by night. He might have gotten to know Tim in this life, instead of dying.

He might not be in this damned predicament right now.

“Jason?”

He looks up, realizes that Barbie is watching him with concern. He is quick to revisit their conversation and mutters, “Yeah, fine. Just make sure the stuff actually makes it to me before my brain dribbles out of my head, okay?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” she replies, reaching out to turn off the scrambler device, though she continues to exude suspicion.

“All Bats are dramatic, or have you forgotten?” he quips back, offering an irreverent smirk to cover up.

“Hard to forget something you live with every day,” she returns dryly. “Now get over here and let me check you over.”

“You don’t need to,” he points out. “I’ve had worse than this, you know.”

“Yes, yes, we’re all aware you’ve died and come back, who hasn’t these days?” she returns. “Now, shirt off, or I’m telling Tim you didn’t do what you said you would.”

Jason glares. “This is going to become a thing, isn’t it? You people using Tim to make me do things.”

“Things that are for your own good, yes. Now strip, Todd.”

“Yes, mother…”

“You wish your mother was as cool as me.”

Which Jason can’t argue with, because she’s right; he’s had a total of three mother figures in his life (two of which he’s not sure even qualify because of how messed up they were), and none of them have been as capable or decent as Barbara Gordon.

Once he’s shrugged his top half out of the body armor and leather, she reaches for him.

Jason experiences a nauseous swoop in his stomach at the idea of anyone but Tim putting hands on him. Instantly, his hand snaps up and knocks hers back.

“Don’t touch me!” he snarls.

Barbara pulls away, watching him with a raised eyebrow and instantly Jason is overwhelmed with shame.

“Sorry,” he bites out. “I didn’t mean…”

“We can wait for Tim to get back,” she suggests, instantly understanding.

Alarms blare in his head at the thought; he shakes his head. “No. No, I’m…I’m good. Now that I’m expectin' it.”

She considers him several beats longer and then makes the next attempt to check his injuries. This time he concentrates on forcing the sick feeling away and tries to ignore how it feels like someone is rubbing sandpaper across his skin.

That’s a new symptom. Great. Because it wasn’t enough that I’ve been trying to claw my skin of myself, now other people get to do it too…

Barbara checks him over with quiet efficiency, evaluating the shallow slash between his arm and shoulder which his armor didn’t cover, as well the bruising along his hips, elbows and lower back.

“It could be worse,” she decides eventually, considering the mottled purpling across his chest. “Ribs are bruised, not broken.”

“I could've told you that…”

“And were you going to tell me about that?” she points at his shoulder and the spiderweb of gold leeching out around the long-healed-over bullet wound. From the way he’s been itching at it this past day, he doesn’t need a mirror to know it’s beginning to creep up his neck as well. “How long has it been growing like that?”

“Pretty much since I got it,” he replies.

She reaches up, brow furrowed and reaches toward one of the raised lines winding toward his chest. Again, he braces himself for the pain of the touch his body doesn’t want.

Thankfully, she barely grazes that. “You haven’t been keeping better track, have you? It might give us a more specific idea of how much time you have.”

“How so?”

“The same as any poison, I would guess. The closer it gets to your heart, the less time you have.”

He frowns. “At this point, I don’t think it even matters.”

Movement outside of the med bay window draws his attention, and he across the floor to see Tim climbing the stairs from the ground floor.

Jason is quick to grab his shirt and tug it on; it’s not something he wants to discuss with Tim just yet.

Barbara watches him, lips pursed in worry and disapproval, but he could care less about the latter. She knows his thoughts on this, and she’ll respect them.

Tim strides in and then slows like he’s wondering if he’s supposed to knock or not.  

“How are you doing?” he asks, hesitant like he’s afraid expressing concern will set Jason off like a bomb.

Guilt hits him at that, but he forces himself to remain calm and blank-faced. “Fine.”

“I have to go,” Barbie announces, maneuvering her chair toward the door. “I need to go back to the Cave and check on Dick’s condition. I don’t know how long it will be before he tries to escape or pull something to keep from going nuts.”

“Also, it’d be nice if this month was one of the ones where Alfred doesn’t get knocked out,” Tim suggests with false levity.

“Or lose a hand,” Jason mutters darkly.

“Exactly. And whether he knows it or not, Feathers downstairs gave me some ideas about how to remove the arrow,” Barbie says as they leave the med bay.

“I should come with you.”

“No.” Both Barbara and Tim speak at the same time, but she’s the one that keeps talking. “You should stay here.”

“Not sure that’s the best idea.”

“I think it is,” Tim counters. “It will keep us out of everyone’s hair and they’ll know where we are.” His tone is reasonable—too reasonable; clearly Timmy has some ulterior motives.

Whether those motives are to circumvent Bruce or Jason’s plans, he doesn’t care. But one thing is for sure. “They can know where we are if we’re at the manor.”

And isn’t that a reversal—Jason being the one to insist on that?

I need to have people around because I don’t trust myself right now.

The mutinous expression is back on Tim’s face, before he visibly switches tactics.

“Okay, how about this,” he suggests, tone only a shade off exasperated. “Why don’t you go lie down somewhere and try to catch a few hours' sleep? If you’re sleeping, you’re not doing anything else, right? And then we’ll either go back to the Cave or see if anyone can be spared to chaperone here.”

“There’s no need for that,” a voice says, and they all look up to see Damian stride in still in full Robin-gear.

Tim scowls. “How did you get in here?”

“It was fairly simple,” the kid snorts. “A fish tank, Drake? Really?”

Tim looks like he wants to protest, but Jason chuckles. “It was kind of obvious, babybird.”

“You can barely take care of yourself, and you expect someone with a brain to believe you have the patience to care for fish?” the boy continues. “Exactly who do you think has been feeding them when you forget?”

Tim gapes. “You…break into my apartment…to feed my fish?”

Jason can’t help the loud guffaw that escapes at that, earning two equally unimpressed glares in return. He doesn’t care—that might be the funniest thing he’s heard in days.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Barbara says and wheels out of the room. “Try not to kill each other, boys. Alfred would be unhappy about it.”

“Luckily, we are standing in a well-stocked room with several methods for resuscitating a dead body,” Damian replies easily.

“Don’t you have school?” Tim grumbles.

“It’s Sunday, Drake.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“I have been sent to babysit you two and put Todd down with extreme prejudice should he try anything.

Which Tim gapes and, while Jason is…kind of relieved about.

“Aw, Dami, I knew you cared,” he teases.

“Don’t address me with that infantile drivel!”

Tim sighs.

“Just don’t set anything on fire while you’re here…”

  ⁂⁂⁂

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Next Chapter

[fae-redux]

rules of the game: ch. 3 - the lights are on and everybody’s home

Story Summary: 

The Evergreen and Imagi were never quite in peacetime. Roman’s just trying to figure out how to survive and succeed his mother. Logan wants to live long enough to use his magic however he wants. Patton is coasting while repressing everything, still trying to figure out what feelings are. 

Virgil doesn’t want to change the world. 

Luckily, it isn’t up to him.

first | ao3 | prev

Chapter Summary: A witch in the woods with her head held high, a host of fae are wondering why.

Word count: 2530

Pairings: future lamp, platonic anxceit

~|~

There are reasons for the things the queen did, and then there are excuses. Her reason is simple. For years, she wished to create a proper heir to the throne. Gods only knew, she was never going to let herself be succeeded by Virgil of all people. He was uncontrollable, wild, dirty magic, and what was worse, he didn’t even know. She needed someone who would listen to her, someone who would allow her reign to flourish and bring true magic back to the land. She didn’t need Virgil, she needed a child of her own, two. Her excuse for two, just in case the first one didn’t have her magic. Excuses always have consequences.

She tried and tried, but with no success, she made a choice that would change the course of the kingdom’s future forever. She sought out the fae queen.

~|~

Valerie was used to the calls of humans. When it was cold, she sang life into their crops, and when it was warm, she touched the ground with ice so they might escape the sun, skate, and play. Back before the witch took her seat on the throne, fae were welcomed into the human kingdoms with open arms.

These days, the humans have all but ceased to call her. As much as she avoids the border for fear of knights, humans avoid the border for fear of fae. It makes her stomach turn, but she doesn’t even have to put up guard around to dissuade them from entering the Evergreen anymore. 

Regardless of the fact, she does put up a patrol around the northern border, and there’s no one more surprised than her when they summon for her one autumn night.

She gets her steed and sets off in the direction of the call. Three of her guards form a circle at the edge of the wood. “What’s happened?”

“The witch has entered the Evergreen. Lauren is missing from her post, she didn’t answer when we raised the alarm,” Toby responds coolly. “Kai’s gonna pitch a fit if he finds out. Finding her is top priority.”

There aren’t many places Adelaide knows about, luckily for them. If Valerie remembers correctly, Dee only ever told her about the court. He never mentioned telling her about his home, but that doesn’t mean Adelaide won’t stumble across some other poor unsuspecting fae before she reached her destination. “Get to the Lapointe estate in case she goes after Dee, I’ll catch up to her if she goes to the court.”

Yanking on the reins, she does a full turn to go back to the court. Dee wouldn’t have told her a direct path, just a general location supported by the fact that they hadn’t crossed paths as Valerie rode to meet her guards. That means she has time. Urging her horse just a tad faster, she hopes she gets there before her.

~|~

“It’s a nice place you’ve got here,” Adelaide circles the throne room lazily, her plate mail clinking as she walks. Her steed stands by the entrance, large and imposing as Valerie pulls up to the edge of the room. The pearlescent marble under the witch’s bare feet glimmers in the moonlight. “If I were you, I’d never leave.”

Valerie dismounts her horse. “I like to know the people I’m ruling,” her mouth twists into a grimace. “They trust me because they know me.”

The witch doesn’t miss the slight, allows it with a tilt of her head and a slight smile. “I’ve come to seek a treaty-”

“Then you may leave,” She responds sharply, imitating Adelaide’s smile.

Adelaide shakes her head, loose red hair spilling around her neck, taking a seat on her throne, making her bristle, “Come now, don’t be rude. If you don’t want peace, I have plenty of your fae in my kingdom who wish to return to the Evergreen, and it would be a shame if they never made it back.”

“If you wanted peace, you would’ve sent your husband,” Valerie doesn’t quite snap, controlling her tone, “And you wouldn’t have touched Lauren.”

“Oh, was she important? Don’t worry, she’s still in the forest. If she’s a real knight, she’ll find her way back. You should really train them better if you think a little displacement spell will kill them, Mab,” The witch leans back, completely relaxed. “The treaty will return her, and all your people, if you so wish to make a deal.”

“My people?” Valerie echoes hollowly. “Do better than that.”

“The fae in the castle will all be back, as per your wishes, but I need a deal first.” Her teeth shine, light catching on a fang, as she smiles, “Who knows what would happen if they tried to pass through the iron wall on their own, no?”

She’s been staking out the knight’s exit for a very long time, enough time that it might’ve caught her attention. “What have you done?”

“Nothing,” Her nails glint as she studies them, the disrespect, taking her eyes off Valerie, “Not yet, anyways.”

Valerie’s lip curls in disgust. “What do you seek, mortal?”

“Finally!” She drops her arms to the armrests and pushes herself up, “Two children for the safety of your people on their return to you.”

“No, ‘my people’ is a term that only includes winter fae, and ‘on their return’ is not true safety, be more specific,” If the queen of the human kingdom wished to play it like that, she would have to try harder.

“Okay, fine, give me a moment,” The queen ponders, her finger tapping innocently on her chin like she has never done anything wrong in her life. Valerie can’t stop imagining the blood from Dee’s throat coating her fingers. Adelaide is not human and she is not fae. Revenge is not something Valerie could execute without risk, but Adelaide has to pay. Her eyes narrow. “I would like to give birth to two children and in exchange for helping me, I will return all the fae that lived in this forest alive and unharmed.”

“And I shall grant you this on one condition,” Valerie begins to craft the magic. If she does this right, the Evergreen would get an heir despite her wish to remain without a romantic partner. If she didn’t, Imagi would end up with two heirs. “If you go back on your word, your firstborn child shall be mine.”

The queen’s face sets in determination. “I agree to the terms. In fact, as a gesture of goodwill,” she waves a hand, and Lauren collapses on the floor from thin air, gasping for breath as her feet scrape the ground, running behind Val.

“Very well,” Valerie runs a gentle hand over Lauren, taking the remaining magic that clings to her skin. “Now, get out of my forest. You never asked for protection while you were here, and to have the children, you must first get out alive. I suggest,” She hands the queen a leaf coated in her magic, which glows in the witch’s hand, “you start running.”

~|~

Adelaide’s screams echo throughout the castle halls, and Terrence has never had a bigger headache, the pressure of old magic pushing down on the space in his skull behind his eyes. Tonight is the night that the twins would be born and if the awful sounds echoing down the hallways could be trusted, the twins are most definitely being born. 

With the climate in the castle, he knows that as a fae, he has a greater duty to the rebellion tonight than he did to Adelaide. Any loyalty he had to offer her ended the moment she put up the wall. 

A deal, she’d said, that she made with Valerie to have a child and in return she wouldn’t harm any fae that swore loyalty to her. 

Bullshit. 

His messages couldn’t reach Valerie if he sent them. Adelaide made sure of it when she closed the walls and leashed their magic. Any words spoken ill of her were bound to get back to her, so instead, he said nothing at all, waiting patiently for his time to come.

Tonight, there would be an opportunity. Terrence knows as well as any fae does of the little one of their kind growing in the queen. If the deal was what he thinks it is, the magic of the Evergreen will make it such that the child is returned, and with it, the balance of deals made in the forest fulfilled. 

With the wolf star directly overhead, he lets the magic guide him through the halls, unseen. He watches as Adelaide denies the babe any touch, any comfort as he enters the world as his screams pierce the night. In a daze, he follows a maid to the nursery, picking up the baby, far too light and far too small for who Terrence knows he will be. 

The child is unnamed, unmoored to the land. His pointy ears wiggle as he yawns. Even now, Terrence coos at the sight of little tips of white fangs peeking out from his gums. The magic coming from the child is neon, not quite of the Evergreen, but not anything he’s seen from any magic user either. 

This is him, Valerie’s child. No power in the world, let alone a wall, could have stopped them from riding out into the night.

~|~

Lauren is stationed at the base of the throne room when Terrence rides in.

“We need an audience with the queen,” Terrence clutches the bundle to his chest as tight as he can. “Please tell her it’s urgent.” 

The tiny fae is starting to squirm in his blankets as she books it up the stairs and no matter how cute the babe is, Terrence is entirely ill equipped to handle it. The child has barely been in the world a full day, but he still has no name, no prospects. By blood he is royal, but the way Adelaide practically scrambled away from him denied him a place in that castle. 

The queen descends the spiraling stairs behind her throne, the cool ice-like structure making her look twice as alluring as usual, and Terrence, like most who ever receive the honor of being in her presence, is enchanted.

“Who in the gods’ names is calling me down so late? Is it really important?” She yawns and stretches, her sleek light blue robe falling in waves around her. “I really don’t see the point in-”

With a fond smile on his face, he can identify the exact moment she sees him.

“Terrence!” She runs down the steps at full tilt towards him, and he swings the baby closer and hunches in to protect him as her arms come down across his shoulders. “Terrence, you’re okay,” She pulls back and her hands stay on his shoulders as she kisses both his cheeks then leans back to get a better look at him, “You are okay, right? I swear, if that witch laid a finger on you, I’ll have her skull as an ornament.” Her eyes land on the baby. “Oh, darling, you never said anything about a child.” 

She sweeps up the child, thoroughly distracted with his clear green eyes. “I’m fine,” He starts, amused with the way she dances away with the baby. “He isn’t mine, you know?” She hums as she dances away and the child giggles. “He’s yours.”

Valerie stops dead in the middle of the throne room, her eyes never leaving the babe’s, the echo of her footsteps fading into silence. “Excuse me?” Her voice is untethered, the same way the babe’s magic feels, white just like the frost that forms at her fingertips in shock.

“He isn’t named yet, Adelaide didn’t bother. She gave birth to him last night.” He hands her the certificate detailing the time of his birth, “Right under the wolf star. He’s her first born.”

She holds him just a touch closer, nudging his nose with her own, to the child’s delight. “I did say he would be mine, didn’t I?” Her voice has softened the same way it did when she took the crown all those years ago. 

Staring at the child, Val reaches her free hand towards him, and he takes it because he has to and he has missed her more than she would ever know.

“You’ve come back to me,” Her hand squeezes tight around his hand, “And you are safe,” Her voice breaks on a cry as the child begins to warble out a sob.

Terrence forces the longing to stay back down to his stomach where it belongs. “But there are others still trapped in the castle,” He doesn’t want to say goodbye so soon. “And I have to go back before Adelaide notices I took him.”

He doesn’t want her to hope for him to stay. It will make it that much harder for him to leave. Her magic is too strong though the moon is still a crescent above their heads.

She leans her head against his chest and he can feel her tears on his shirt, and he can do nothing more than keep his arms around her.

“Under the wolf star, you said?” She hums a shaky tune under her breath and the baby stares up at her in awe. He nods to her question. “Then his name shall be Remus.” 

The magic floods the room, and it has been ages since he has really felt connected to the forest, but he can feel the change in hierarchy in the woods themselves. Mother and son glow green the way he has only seen potions of a particularly dangerous nature shine. It’s as if their very souls are visible.

She is so pained yet so joyful when she says, “He’s mine,” The two of them continue to look at each other, and Terrence can feel the power they radiate unfiltered and raw. It bleeds into his skin in a way that he knows he’s going to smell of it for days. “He’s so fae, Terr. You can feel it, just look at him,” her tone is already as full of warmth and love as her heart is. Choking back her own cries, she stands tall, her eyes still glowing bright, and smiles. 

Terrence can feel her leaving him before even she speaks.

“You will be safe on your return.” Her voice has taken on this ethereal echo, the way it does when she can’t quite cap her energy. The babe blinks and his eyes are now a blazing, neon green, and for the first time since he left the castle, Terrence feels at peace.

“Thank you, Val.” He unwraps his arms and leans down so she can grant him one last kiss on the forehead. “Wish me luck.”

She smiles and cradles her child to her chest. “You won’t need it. I will see you soon.” Her tune starts to reverberate through the walls and the trees and the sky. 

He rides under the cover of night, her melody following him through the break of dawn and all the way to his bed where his eyes close, restful and safe in his queen’s song.

[som3thingcr3ative]

And I am Wanting 2

It’s here! I wasn’t sure when I’d have time to write this or post it- I tried last night but it. wouldn’t. post. grr. I have a few crazy days coming up soon but I’ve been wanting to write this sooo badly, especially when I go through the tag lol. 

ENJOY!

part one part two part three part four

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier leave Lord Corro’s town; a debt is paid; Jaskier hears something go bump in the night. 

Warnings: abuse, bruises, minor character death, revenge...oof

Pairings: pining!Geralt and pining!Jaskier, eventual geraskier x oc 

Geralt has a bad feeling about leaving Lani behind. Her green eyes are piercing and focused directly on him as he lowers himself into Roach’s saddle. He looks over at her as she hesitates, standing beside her father as always. Loretta the handmaiden stands an appropriate distance behind her, but her eyes are careful. 

The Lady Corro steps down from the steps in front of her fathers’ house. She walks slowly to Roach’s side, where Geralt watches but doesn’t stop her from placing a hand on the mare’s shoulder. Jaskier’s eyes widen in surprise, but Geralt can see the way Lani is leaning her weight onto the mare. She’s exhausted, he can see it in her face. “Where are you going next?” She asks, conversationally for the many ears listening. He can see her true question hidden behind the facade, though. 

“North.” He gruffs, squinting at the noonday sun. It’s been just over twenty-four hours since Lani slayed the beast, fewer than that since he claimed the bounty. Then, quietly, “We’ll stick to the main roads. Travel slowly for now. The bounty is enough for three months.”

Lani nods, bowing her head just briefly. Her skin is paler than before, Geralt notices, and his heightened senses pick up the coppery scent of blood beneath her clothes. She’s not doing well, but she’ll live, and he can take comfort in that. A fighter like her is rare, too rare to let die.

“Be careful.” Geralt says, his lips barely moving. 

She steps back, smoothes her hands over the skirt of her dress. “Safe travels.” She says. “May the wind stay at your backs.”

If he hadn’t seen the gleam in her eye, he would’ve thought she didn’t hear him. Her eyes slide to Jaskier, whose fingers pluck idly at the strings of his lute. The tune is familiar, but slightly different than what he’d played last night. For once, the bard isn’t fidgeting or talking incessantly. His eyes are bright and only on Lani, who looks back at him with an unreadable expression. She smiles, bright and pure.

An hour later, once there’s plenty of space between them and all residents of the town under Lord Corro’s rule, Geralt turns to Jaskier and asks; “The song. What was it?”

And Jaskier grins. “It’s the truth of what happened. I sang it for her, and she liked it.”

Geralt smiles to himself and thinks that maybe one day he’ll ask to hear it. 

~~~~~~

Forty-eight hours have passed since Lani slayed the werewolf. She wakes in her bed with her entire body hurting from the fight. Her bruises had quickly turned black and purple, so significant that she’d been pale from it and weak. 

Sunlight streams through the crack in the curtains to her left. She blinks, turning her head toward it. Even the small motion hurts, but she can feel that something’s off. Loretta hasn’t opened the drapes. In fact, Lani can’t hear her bustling around setting out breakfast or arranging clothes. She sits up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. 

When she moves her hand from her face, a scream catches in her throat. Her ribs hurt to much to give voice to the sound and even if she’d tried, it’s like she’s been punched in the chest all over again. 

Loretta hasn’t opened the drapes because she’s dangling from the end of a rope at the foot of Lani’s bed, barely on her tiptoes. She doesn’t make a sound- none of the men in the room do- and there are a lot of them. 

“What is this?” Lani rasps, chest heaving despite the pain. She clutches her sheets to her body, trying to hide the bruises under the guise of protecting her modesty. Her free hand quests under her pillow, fingers wrapping around the hilt of her dagger. “What are you doing?”

Her father’s eyes are cold as he peers down his nose at her. Loretta chokes, her face turning blue. She can’t dangle there much longer. “Your handmaiden was caught washing blood-soaked clothes that a guard recognized, Lani. Do you know why they were recognized?”

Lani’s wide eyes go to Loretta, who is desperately trying to mouth something. ‘I’m sorry-’ she reads on her lips, heart breaking at the sight before her. 

“I don’t.” She says, despite it all. “Father, please let her down!” Lani lets the tears come; now is not a time to be stoic, not when her handmaiden is choking to death at the foot of her bed. She lets the wracking sob push its way up her throat, acting just the way a Lady would at a sight like this. “She’s dying!” 

“She was caught washing the clothes of the vigilante, Lani sweet. For aiding a criminal, she must die.”

“Why are you doing this?” Lani questions through tears, her hysterics making several of the knights shift uncomfortably, glancing at each other. They’re sworn to her father, but Lani had made sure to win many of them over as the heir. Those are the ones who seem most likely to stop the killing. “She doesn’t deserve to die!”

Her father is unmoved. “Did you know about this?” He asks. A burning fire rages inside Lani’s chest as she watches Loretta struggle. There are too many knights for her to fight off with nothing more than a dagger and in her bedclothes. She can’t do anything. 

Helpless, Lani’s mind whispers: exactly what you swore to never be again. 

The castle shakes. Everyone standing stumbles; the wooden beam holding Loretta drops dust like so many snowflakes, catching in her hair and eyelashes. Her eyes are barely open. 

“What was that?” Lord Corro demands, looking around at the gathered knights. No one has an answer.

Again, the castle shakes. This time several people scream down the hall, cut short in a gurgle that even Lani can her from her bed. She takes the confusion as an opportunity and lunges forward, severing the rope in one neat slice, her blade so sharp that it doesn’t even catch. 

Loretta drops to the ground, near-lifeless. 

The doors to Lani’s room bang open and everyone looks up; standing there is a woman dressed in crimson, though patches of white show through. It’s blood, Lani realizes with a sickening lurch in her stomach. Blood on a white dress.

“Lord Corro,” the woman says. “Thanks to you, someone killed my pet.” She steps into the room and holds up a hand. The knights fall to the ground, each one with a sickening crack as their spines break. Her eyes fall on Lani and a wicked smile curves her lips. “Now I will take what you love most.”

~~~~~~

Geralt dreams of an open plain filled with flowers; flowers whose scents he can often catch on Jaskier. He dreams of open air, of a life with nothing tying him to one place. There are no contracts, no monsters, no people. 

He’s content. In the dream, his stomach is full, the air is warm and Roach grazes nearby. 

“Geralt!” Jaskier’s hoarse whisper sounds near his ear. He startles awake. The air is cold, his stomach is empty and there’s a new knot in his back from the hard ground. He growls, eyes opening to the black sky. There’s no moon tonight and Jaskier is almost wholly blind in the dark, his hands fumbling for Geralt’s arm. “Something’s out there!”

Now normally, Geralt would listen to find that it’s a squirrel or some other not dangerous forest creature, but this time isn’t normal. 

His ears pick up something on the path they’d been walking all day. He hears a horse’s tail swish, a quiet grumble of a breath from the animal. Its hooves make no sound on the rocks, and that’s how Geralt knows something’s wrong.

The second he leaps to his feet and draws his sword, he hears the rider draw the horse to a stop. Through the trees, he catches a glimpse of a massive black animal’s glistening hide, a second horse just beside it. Jaskier curses and the rider tugs the horses into a circle. 

Geralt steps out from between the trees. Oddly enough, he can feel the riders’ eyes on him despite the pitch black. Why are they out this late? Surely they’re as blind as Jaskier in this. 

He doesn’t voice his concerns. If the rider can see him, then the sight of a witcher would be enough to frighten anyone. They face each other for a second, just long enough for Geralt’s eyes to narrow on the canvas bags over the horses’ hooves. 

Why are you riding alone at night? He could ask. Why are you trying to hide?

A slight breeze comes from behind the rider toward him, just as the person urges their horse to move along. Geralt stiffens. Vanilla. Wild mountain air. Wood smoke. And just below that scent, the coppery tang of blood. 

“Lani.” Geralt gruffs. The rider stiffens, a spike of fear through her scent. 

“Lani?” Jaskier questions, stepping out of the woods. “Oh my, Lani is that you?”

Something’s wrong if she saw me. Something’s wrong for her to be riding alone at night, Geralt thinks. He steps toward the horses, puts a hand on her mount’s flank. Lani twitches away from his touch. Even in the dark, even at night her hood is drawn over her head, obscuring her face. Not even Geralt’s eyes can see past it at this angle, but she turns her head and there’s the unmistakable flash of firelight reflected in her gaze.

Reflected. The Witcher thinks. Like an animal.

“Don’t, Geralt.” Lani breathes, her voice near-broken. “Let me go.”

He wraps his fingers around one of the straps attaching a saddle bag to her saddle. Her face turns toward the motion, the most he can see past the hood. “No.” he growls. She yelps when his hands suddenly go to her hips, lifting her out of the saddle even though she sits about shoulder-height with him. Lani grips onto his arms, her fingers digging in as he lowers her to the ground in front of him, hands moving to her wrists. He has the feeling that if he lets go, she’ll bolt. 

“Geralt, what are you doing?” Jaskier asks, coming up behind him. He still can’t see and has both arms held out in front of him, so when he bumps into Geralt’s side, he grabs hold of his tunic to keep the Witcher close. “Is it Lani?”

“It is.” Geralt hums, reaching up to remove her hood. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of her eyes; he remembers the vivid green of them, but now they’re a molten dark gold with a slitted pupil like a fox. “What happened?” He snarls, brushing his thumb along a fresh bruise high on her cheekbone. Her eyes are even more obvious due to the black bruising around the left, the red and purple bruises that frame her throat. 

She looks away, toward Jaskier. When she speaks, her voice is raspy- from whatever caused the blooming colors across her throat, he realizes. “The witch came back.”

“No-” Jaskier gasps, startled. He clutches onto Geralt’s tunic, tightening his grip. “Are you okay? Geralt, what does she look like?”

“She’s not okay.” Geralt grunts as Lani’s eyes drop between them. “She’s staying with us.”

Her gaze flickers up to his in shock. She shakes her head quickly, but his grip on her wrists only shifts so he can grab her horses’ reins; the second horse, the one her bags are tied to is connected by a rope to her mount. “Go back to camp, Jask.” He says, dragging Lani and her horses behind him as he moves toward their firelight. Jaskier dutifully stumbles toward the light in front of them.

“I don’t want him to see me like this.” Lani’s low whisper reaches Geralt’s ears all the same. He shakes his head. 

“You’re staying.”

“Why?” 

Geralt turns to look at her over his shoulder. She’s not stumbling in the dark like Jaskier is: her pupils are barely dilated. Those fox eyes are focused on his face, still just as stubborn as she was before. ‘Don’t tell my father,’ he remembers her saying as she lay broken on a cold stone floor. Stubborn to the last. “You’re hurt and traveling alone.” He says, like it’s obvious. 

“I can handle myself.” She retorts, trying to yank her wrist out of his grip. 

“I’m not leaving you to the wolves, Lady Corro.” 

She snorts, sounding terribly self-hating. “Didn’t you see, Geralt? I’m one of them now.”

He turns so fast that she slams into his chest, his eyes blazing with fury. She seems to realize her mistake as she looks up into irises that are so similar to hers. “There are far worse things than being like a wolf, Lani.” Geralt snarls. “You could be dead. You could be attacked by a monster you can’t kill, or overpowered.” He doesn’t say the other thing that could happen to a woman traveling alone, but he gets the feeling he doesn’t have to when her fear spikes and her pulse quickens beneath his fingers. Regret flashes through him- his intention hadn’t been to wake some hidden demon in her thoughts. He eases his grip on her wrist and softly adds, “Jaskier won’t judge you for your eyes. He’s still just as likely to write songs in honor of you.”

“It’s not just my eyes.” She murmurs, raising a hand to gingerly touch the very edge of the bruising around her eye. 

“Did the witch do that?” He growls, a protective urge burning through his body. 

“No.” She says, and that’s the end of that. He knows by her tone that he won’t get any more out of her. 

Geralt turns, releasing her wrist but still leading her horses. He steps toward his camp, trying to keep his gait even though he listens almost anxiously for her to follow. When he hears her careful step through the brush, a tightness in his chest eases. She’ll stay, he thinks with an odd sort of satisfaction. 

Jaskier is waiting in the ring of firelight for them, wringing his hands together anxiously. When Lani walks toward him, he breaks, lunging toward her and cupping her face in his hands. “Oh Lani, what happened?” His eyes linger on the bruises around her throat, the darkness blossoming across her cheek. He blinks when he sees her eyes, but he doesn’t react to that any more than to the evidence of a fight. “Are you alright?”

Her eyes go to Geralt who has tied her horses beside Roach. The three sniff noses, her gelding arching his neck. The Witcher is undoing her saddlebags and saddle, glancing over at her and Jaskier every so often. “I’m alright.” She says at last, brushing her fingers over Jaskier’s hands as they rest on her face. “Thank you, Jaskier.”

His brows furrow anyway, pupils swallowing the blue of his eyes in the darkness. He pulls her against his chest suddenly, and though she freezes for a second, his embrace is warm and welcome so she relaxes against him, taking comfort in the hug. Tears threaten to rise when she rests the right side of her face against his chest and squeezes her eyes shut. He doesn’t let go- her arms are tight around his slim waist and his are comfortable around her shoulders. He smells of sandalwood and flowers, like home, though she doesn’t know where that is anymore. 

“It’s my turn to take watch.” Geralt says. “Get some sleep.”

Lani relaxes her grip on Jaskier’s waist, finding that he releases her as soon as she’s ready and not a second before. She offers him a grateful smile before she turns to Geralt, warming her hands over the fire. “I’ll take watch.” she says. “I can’t...the sun’s too bright during the day for me, and besides, I’m not tired.”

Geralt frowns, remembering his first weeks with his enhanced vision. It had been the same for him, though he’d been forced to adjust rather quickly. He knows exactly how much the sunlight burns and how if felt like his pupils would never fix themselves. But- he can’t tell if she’ll run off before first light. She’s clearly been cursed, that much he can tell, and whether it was that or something else that has her running three day’s hard ride from home, she’s obviously not in a great mental state at the moment. 

He doesn’t want to threaten her to stay. He wants to trust her, this wild woman who has so much to prove to the world, but trust isn’t his strong suit. 

“Hmm.” He says instead, turning to the two bedrolls laid out side by side. 

“He says that’s fine.” Jaskier murmurs to her as Geralt lays down, his back to the fire. “You can share my bedroll if you want.”

Lani smiles just slightly, feeling a bit more relaxed now that both of them have seen the effects of her curse and not judged her for it. She undoes the straps around her saddlebags, pulling a rolled blanket from amongst them. With it in hand, she moves to where Jaskier is settled against Geralt’s back and takes a seat on the bedroll in front of him. Jaskier reaches out and threads his fingers through hers as she drapes the blanket over her shoulders. She squeezes his hand, taking comfort in the soft touch, glancing over at him to see his eyes slipping closed. 

Before long, both Jaskier and Geralt are asleep. Lani stares into the fire, silent tears streaking down her face. Her body hurts from three days of riding and the fight before that. The bones of her face ache from the pressure of the swelling, her throat is raw from what she’d endured. She feels like death warmed over, but Jaskier’s hand in hers grounds her to the present and she looks over to see his features softened by sleep. 

The bard’s eyelashes brush his cheeks, his lips slightly parted. Lani giggles through her tears when she sees a bit of drool in the corner of his mouth. His fingers twitch between hers and he unconsciously moves closer to her, wrapping himself around the warmth of her body. She drapes the blanket over him, encircling them both in its warmth. Geralt remains unmoved when she looks at him, though it’s no surprise. 

Her aching heart throbs, but the pain is dulled now that she’s no longer alone. For whatever reason, the two men care about her. Thinking about that and how she in turn- despite barely knowing them- cares as well, she watches the woods for danger and tries to adjust to her new, heightened vision. 

TAG LIST (OPEN):  @little-piece-of-tamlin​ @inforapound​

[meeselikedramatoo]

all dramas masterlist

okay some of these totally have notes. 

#alive 100 days my prince 200 pounds beauty  38 task force  49 days 4th period mystery  a company man a day  a dirty carnival  a frozen flower  a hundred year’s inheritance a korean odyssey  a millionaire’s first love a moment to remember  a poem a day a special lady  a tale of two sisters  a tree with deep roots absolute boyfriend abyss aftermath alchemist  along with the gods: the last 49 days  along with the gods: the two worlds  an actor is an actor angel eyes  angel’s last mission: love  antique bakery arang and the magistrate are you human too?  arthdal chronicles ashfall  athena: goddess of war awl  bad guy bad guys  beautiology101  because it’s the first time big birth of a beauty - ???  black black knight: the man who guards me blind blood born again brain bride of the century bring it on, ghost broken  cain and abel  cello cheese in the trap cheo yong 1 & 2  cheongdamdong alice children of a lesser god - ???  children of nobody  chuno  cinderella and the four knights  cinderella man  cinderella’s sister  circle  city hunter  class of lies  coffee prince cold eyes  confession (2015)  confession (2019)  confession of murder (kr) confession of murder (jp)  crash landing on you  criminal minds  cyrano agency  dead friend  death bell death bell 2  defendant  derailed - ???  descendants from the sun  designated survivor: 60 days  detective k: secret of the living dead  diary of a prosecutor - ???  dinner mate  doctor john  doctor stranger doctors  dong yi  don’t click  emergency couple  empire of lust  empress ki  encounter  entertainer entourage - ???  fabricated city - ???  faith  fashion king (2014)  fight for my way  five fingers  flower crew: joseon marriage agency  forest forgotten  full house (2004)  gap dong  ghost goblin goddess of fire, jeongi god’s gift - 14 days  god’s quiz - ???  golden time  gonjiam: haunted asylum  good doctor  goong  graceful family  grand prince  granny’s got talent  green rose - ???  gu family book  gye baek  haechi  he is psychometric  healer  her private life  high society  hindsight  hong gil dong  horse doctor  hospital playlist  hospital ship  hotel del luna  hotelier  hotel king  hwajeong - ??? 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want to watch  late night restaurant  missing: the other side  money flower  my secret hotel  peninsula  revenger  the silenced  sound of a flower  take of nokdu  the throne  true fiction 

[riizev2]

The Living Timeline of Riize Wintersong

RPing is hard. Keeping track of nearly three years of continuity is harder. Here is my organized timeline of Riize’s life for those interested in RPing her now that I’ve returned. I recognize that this is based primarily on my own recollection of plot events, so I have chosen to tag in as many blogs as possible for those interested in hearing the other side of these stories.

However, times change. A lot has happened in two years and my recollection is far from perfect or impartial. In that vein, this is going to be considered a living document. It may change as new information is brought to my attention. Furthermore, some of the people mentioned here are not on good terms with each other (or with me lmao), so take some of this with a grain of salt. This might end up being more for me than for you.

That leads to what’s in brackets. Certain story beats that happened previous have been decided to be written out of continuity for a variety of reasons. Out of respect to the wishes of those involved, certain characters have been omitted even though they did have canon interactions with Riize previously. If I feel that the scene in question is still required to understand Riize’s current characterization, I will leave them in with brackets. The names and occupations of those involved will be changed for the sake of obscuring the identities of those involved and to open up future revisits to old topics now that I have more control over certain elements of Riize’s past. 

I’m organizing it by patch because using the IRL timeline might awaken Blizzard’s lore department. Bold information was originally supposed to be proper nouns and important events but it got a little bit away from me. Just fucking kidding I deleted one word and half the hyperlinks broke and all the bolding disappeared so nothing is bold now. Also Tumblr ate this post twice so I’m kind of trying to get it up before it happens a third time. If edits need to be made, I will write a reblog with the changes as they happen (unless it is basic grammar or more comprehensive formatting)

With that said, let us begin.

Backstory:

Riize Wintersong was born in Darkshore to a priestess and a druid. Her childhood was largely uneventful, training under her mother as a Priestess of Elune while spending her spare time exploring the coastline. As she grew older, she decided that her true love was the sea and became a sailor. Travelling around Western Kalimdor, she became a rotating member of various trade ships that provided food and supplies to other kaldorei settlements on the continent.

In the lead up to the Third War, Riize joined the Alliance Navy and sailed much of Azeroth. During this period she learned much about dwarven and gnomish engineering and worked to maintain the components of ships. While only obtaining the title of Seamen, these years kindled her love for tinkering.

Riize left the military after fulfilling her tour of duty in Northrend. Like many she did experience whispers of the the Old God Yogg-Saron, but did not yet begin her study of the Void until far later. During her time as a civilian she fished and sailed for recreation purposes. After the Cataclysm she returned to the sea as a hired hand on any vessel that would take her. This began her integration into less savory groups.

Riize’s status as a sailor-for-hire was the status quo leading into her playable first appearance in...

Patch 7.3

At this time, Riize is a member of the pirate gang the Dreadwing Vultures. Operating under the professional alias of ‘Nine,’ she sailed with the group for fun and profit. While occasionally brushing against the machinations of Unit Eight, her time with the group was generally enjoyable. Around this time is her first meetings with Corine Blythe, Saelkath Alzarah (@saelkath-alzarah) , and Kat Hawke (@kat-hawke).

[During this period Riize would begin dating one of her fellow Vultures. The two of them would spend long nights getting high and listening to vinyl records. While their life trajectories eventually moved in two different directions, she still values their time spent together greatly.]

Riize begins to make ties with the independent intelligence agency The Silent and a few of its high ranking members through their establishment at the Golden Keg. She begins to take up the place of one of their previous agents as an informant within the Dreadwing Vultures. This position does not last long, as the Vultures soon move to Ironforge and afterwards shutter completely.

Shortly after this event, Riize begins to study under Saelkath in the ways of the Void. Reaching into the darkness, Riize’s exploration is noticed by beings lurking in the Void and mentally affected irreparably. While initially curious, she finds herself drawn to understanding the Void and the denizens within with more fervor. She convinces Saelkath to reveal to her the rituals of the Cult of C’Thun and soon becomes a member herself.

[However, shortly after reemerging with her new focus on the Void, Riize is captured and held captive by a masked Light zealot in the Hinterlands. Detained and tortured for over two weeks, Riize was eventually able to escape into the woods. While too weak to fight, she swore revenge on the one who imprisoned her.]

Patch 7.3.5

While examining a job board in Stormwind Riize comes across a flier directing people towards Easterly. After communicating with The Silent, Riize chooses to enter the newly reforming House Draconis on an information-gathering mission. She meets the House’s heir, Strixena Draconis, and begins to establish a friendship with her. She completes her induction after kidnapping a priest of the Light out of Stormwind on Strixena’s behalf. She is initiated into the House shortly after. While initially believing she escaped Stormwind without notice, Riize ends up crossing the Warden Elyza Morrowbranch (@morrowbranch) who was more than capable of overpowering the newly minted Lady’s Hand. Beating aside, Riize chooses House Draconis over her previous bonds and affirms her loyalty to Strixena.

Riize’s involvement with House Draconis does not go unnoticed by those who knew her and soon she finds herself interrogated by Director Hawke. Remaining affable post-kidnapping, the two enter a tense truce. Working with Saelkath and her previous student Iceilla Nightbane (@iceillanightbane​), Riize partakes in off-the-record assistance on a small handful of missions on Unit Eight’s log.

During a heated argument between the two of them, Riize slices Strixena’s face and leaves her permanently scarred. Agreeing that her delving into the Void is making her lose control of herself, Riize is isolated within the barren White Room deep under Easterly’s catacombs. She is kept in solitary confinement for six weeks, with her only outside contact to the world being twice daily visits from Strixena to bring her food. While originally planned as an act of love, Riize begins to go mad. Her connection to the Void deepens in secret. When she is released she rekindles her vow of loyalty to Strixena and is rechristened as Riizen Draconis, the Phoenix of Easterly.

While working as a founding member of House Draconis’s intelligence branch, the Lady’s Hand, Riize meets the Arbiter of Dead Sun Harbor Eilithe Duskbringer (@eilitheduskbringer). While working together during the opening of the House’s gunsmithing store in Stormwind (Dragon’s Breath Smithing) the two kaldorei would develop a lasting friendship. Fulfilling her duties to the House, Riize recruits Joskinar Soulshread (@joskinar) into the Lady’s Hand. Near that time she also meets Aurelia Voidsong (@smoke-and-stilettos), Headmistress of Sordasa Academy. The Academy would act as the research division of the House, providing a vast bevy of knowledge to those who would seek it. Riize, Jos, and Aurelia would soon form a polyamorous relationship.

Patch 8.0

Strixena and other key members of House Draconis are jailed by a mysterious figure. Riize is not targeted, though the time spent away from Strixena eats at her. She tries her best to maintain the organization in her stead but is slowly pushed further and further out of power by inter-House politics. She settles into running the House’s business ventures while awaiting her sister’s return.

During a Unit Eight expedition to Ahn’Qiraj with Saelkath and a mage in SI:7’s employ, Riize witnesses the full power of her teacher’s magic and is horrified. Barely able to push through the ritualist’s powerful psychic influence, Riize helps destroy the artifact they came to collect to free Saelkath from its hold. While the trio are able to return to Unit Eight’s headquarters safely, Saelkath’s mind is shattered and she loses all memory of Riize. Heartbroken, she leaves her teacher in the medbay and disappears into the night. Riize never sees her beloved teacher again.

Eventually Strixena reemerges before the House as a Death Knight, a specter of vengeance unleashed upon the world. House Draconis begins to act again, though with far less of Riize’s input. Not long after, Dragon’s Breath Smithing is shuttered. The intelligence branch that Riize helped Strixena found is scrapped as well, resulting in her joining Aurelia in Sordasa Academy.

Things grew more dire over the coming months. War loomed on the horizon and the temperament of her sister grew even more volatile. The final straw came in the one-two punch of the closing of Sordasa Academy and the ultimatum that re-entering the House’s inner circle would require letting go of her attachment to her partners. Riize, Aurelia, and Joskinar would all leave Easterly for the old Voidsong Manor in the dead of night. She never saw her sister again.

Patch 8.1

The War of the Thorns escalated further, far from Riize’s gaze. The Void’s hold on her grew ever deeper until the Burning of Teldrassil snapped her from her stupor. Journeying to Darkshore, Riize learned that her parents had evacuated to the presumably untouchable kaldorei capital only to be lost in the fire. Riize had not seen her family in decades and never got to say goodbye.

Patches 8.1.5 through 8.2.5

AKA the period I wasn’t playing WoW

Riize, Joskinar, and Aurelia married in private far from the world. The trio would spend the following year together in seclusion, enjoying relative peace together far from the world and the war raging around them. While it was peace at the cost of ignorance, it was a much needed reprieve from the pain that had preceded.

Patch 8.3 through Past and Present

The rise of N’Zoth and the emergence of Ny’alotha took an unseen toll upon the Void-Blessed Night Elf. Visions began to infiltrate her mind showing her memories of lives unlived and roads not taken. In time it became impossible to distinguish the visions from reality. The usually energetic kaldorei would soon spend hours of the day bedridden, barely able to navigate through the illusions that danced before her eyes.

Now

Riize re-enters a world that is unfamiliar during a time of uneasy peace. The public has turned its hatred upon the Void-aligned and allies have become few and far between. Familiar faces have disappeared, replaced by an endless stream of vitriol. Still, Riize searches for answers and closure to a life that has escaped her...

[tidustargaryen]

Blood of the Dragon

Sorry the quality is not great on Tumblr. It’s better on Ao3.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22291069/chapters/53236438

Chapter 3 - A Dance with the Shadow Dragon

"My sister won't marry this savage. We can take a boat at the south dock, it's less guarded. ”

"You have no choice but to receive this khal, they will sack the city and many people will die, and those who remain alive will be enslaved. "Oberyn replied to Viserys with reproach.

"It is out of the question to risk the lives of anyone here. After all you have done for us, Mistress Ilissa, I cannot allow it." Answered the princess.

They had all gathered in the Mistress's private residence to see how they would handle the horde, the place was huge and so sumptuous that it was difficult to concentrate on the conversation without taking a look at the portraits hanging on the walls or at the shining chandeliers that dominated the rooms.

"I knew the risks involved in housing the last two Targaryens, and I'm proud that Oberyn trusted me to take care of you both."

Ilissa Naeraar was a middle-aged woman, very beautiful even though time had left its mark on her face, which was tinted with one of the most beautiful browns she had ever seen. She also had one of the sweetest and rarest hearts that it was unthinkable that someone so rich and with so much influence would want to help others. But Daenerys trusted Oberyn, and it was he who had entrusted them to the Mistress' care. Her husband had succumbed to a fever after one of his many journeys, but Ilissa had taken over the estate with dignity and ran her late husband's business in a much more prosperous way. She had managed to pay off all his debts and had become richer since then. She had never remarried, but was enjoying life in the same way as Oberyn, whom she had known as her lover a long time ago.

"And I can never thank you enough for all you've done, but I refuse to let them ruin this town because of me." Ilissa took Dany's hand in hers and looked at her with disconcerting affection, she was the closest thing to a mother for Daenerys, she has no children but never failed to bring all her love to her servants and her two hosts. "Oberyn, where's the priestess?"

"Who...is...?"

"Oberyn...?"

"It's too dangerous, something emanates from her, I don't trust her and nothing is ever free with them. And it's not a thing you pay with gold..."

"I ask for nothing..." She had subtly introduced herself into the room without arousing the senses. Oberyn was right, something was emanating from her, something strange and dark. She was also a beautiful woman, her gaze was mesmerizing, she seemed to have bewitched her brother who could have been drooling right now, he was so suspicious of strangers, normally. Oberyn, on the other hand, hadn't let himself be seduced, he had only one desire and that was to impale this woman on his spear.

"How could you...? I locked you in the cage with the piglets, you were tied to the trough!"

"What?!"

"What... what? Safety before comfort, you'll see when she tries to set your precious silver curls on fire." Oberyn then approached Viserys to give him the same kind of warning. "The future king that you are should avoid that kind of devil, or you risk losing parts of yourself that you love so much, and the kingdom will need heirs..."

"I wish the princess no harm, on the contrary, I am here to guide you, dragon girl." She replied while completely ignoring the future king who did not really appreciated the offense. Her brother was very sensitive but she had no time to ease his feelings.

"Very well, but first you will help us, you said you could repel the Dothraki, how?"

Somewhere, at a certain time

The burning sand was a real torture for her feet, which she had not been able to cover in order to facilitate her training, the stifling heat made her skin redden and covered it with a film of sweat. She was in a desert in the middle of nowhere with Oberyn, he had brought her and her brother to Lys, he had paid the expenses for the boat and they embarked after spending a few more weeks in Myr before the Dornish got tired of the courtesans.

Lys was the perfect place for debauchery, her brother seemed to think so too, but today Oberyn dedicated his time to training. It had been a few weeks since he put a sword in Dany's hands, Viserys protested, of course, she was too young for that, but above all, she was a woman, and a woman's role was to be a good wife who would bear beautiful heirs. Oberyn didn't care, women fought just as much in Dorne, he told them that he had eight bastard daughters, for the moment, he winked, and that he taught all the older ones to fight so that they could defend themselves.

Daenerys had great difficulty holding the sword, her arm was numb and her legs threatened to abandon her at any moment. She didn't like the training, the idea of being able to defend herself was nice, but the idea of killing much less. Her brother was much less scrupulous, but rather lazy about training and didn't like the Dornish prince. It was also a game for some children, with Oberyn, it was not.

"If you refuse to fight, I'll have to make you spend the rest of the day standing on one leg under the blazing sun and you'll spend the night cleaning swords and spears and all our clothes."

"Please Oberyn, I'm just a child and Viserys isn't even here, he's the future king!"

"Your brother is an idiot but he is the future king as you say, it would be easier to make a snake dance than to train him when he decides to spend the day in a brothel. And you're the right age, but not the right will."

She spent a lot of time with the Dornishman, they often spoke, and although Daenerys was young, he explained many realities of this world to her. She had to learn how to fight, for life had not yet offered her all the misfortunes it could. He blamed his brother, who spent his time brooding over his anger and dreaming of his kingdom rather than doing what it took to win it. The world was not kind to children, and it would be even worse for adults, and much worse for a woman. That's what Oberyn told her, the same thing he told his daughters. But any blow they took, they could return, and that's why Dany had to learn, he wasn't just teaching her how to hold a sword, he was also training her body to withstand pain. On several occasions he asked her to bring him back a random object in a very short time, it was a game for the princess, a fun game she was playing with her brother, but very quickly, the fun had given way to exhaustion. Her feet were damaged and sore, her legs were hurting and hardening, her body, so thin before, was beginning to change, she was gaining a little more strength every day.

The worst was when she had to spend the night without sleeping, looking at the passers-by through her window, she had to count them and differentiate between women and men, sometimes he would ask her a few more details about their clothes, what they were doing outside and when there were the least people on the street. When she had the audacity to tell him that it was no use to her training, Oberyn made her spend the day cleaning the inn where they were staying, and she only had a meal when it was over, very late at night. He then explained to her that training her mind was just as important as training her body, it was essential that she had good concentration and that she could spot all the details and memorize them.

His daughters' training was much easier, but they had not lacked food for so many years, their bodies were stronger, better prepared. The young princess was much more comfortable with books, she had learned a lot from the stories her brother had taught her and enjoyed learning more from Oberyn. Dany didn't like the training, but despite a few complaints, she never missed any of them, and never used her title to avoid them.

Oberyn was strict, and felt no remorse at seeing the princess exhausted, he didn't have much time and she had to learn fast. But sometimes he would change his plans and arrange a day off to go for a walk with the Targaryens, he liked to see the girl marvel at the beauties of the world, she deserved a little joy, she deserved to smile, to laugh, her life had been so sad and dark. Her brother was much more reserved, and had only two obsessions, the throne, and revenge, which he had in common with Oberyn, they could agree on that, at least.

The Dornishman was two sides of the same coin for Daenerys, he was both stern and demanding about education and training, but he was also the most affectionate and smiling man she had known since her knight. He had offered her many things since they had known each other, food above all, a roof and a bed to sleep in, but also toys, his time, his wisdom and a lot of joy. And even though he was jealous and cranky, she also knew that Viserys appreciated Dorne's help, he was proud of it, despite his condition, a great kingdom was loyal to him, but he didn't appreciate the man and began to spend a little more time with his sister, reading books to her, telling her stories, taking her on his lap until she fell asleep on him. Oberyn's arrival had, in a way, allowed Daenerys to recover a brother.

After training, they met Viserys at the inn in good company, he dismissed the women and followed his two companions to their room. Oberyn had not planned such a long journey and money was running out, so he took a room for the three of them and, while the siblings slept together in bed, he requisitioned the chair.

"I'll have to go back to Dorne, give news to my brother and make a plan to take King's Landing. You'll be staying with a faithful friend for the time being, I trust him, but you'll have to be very careful when you go out, Lys attracts a lot of people. I want you to continue training, you'll be taught by a preceptor here, much less demanding than I am, so enjoy."

The news hit the young princess, after a day together, Oberyn didn’t tell her he was leaving. And he was leaving tonight, leaving them with strangers. Dany held back her tears as the two men continued the discussion.

"Doran's going to want to know the terms of our arrangement, he still believes you'll marry my niece. ”

"I'll marry my sister, it's non-negotiable. My house must rise from its ashes, but marriages between Targaryens and Martells can still be made. I will offer my heir, the future king after me, to one of your princesses of his age. And for the delay this will cause you, my council will also need loyalists who have supported and helped me, many benefits will be granted to House Martell, if your brother wishes, he can still make requests. If you help House Targaryen, if through you we obtain vengeance, then House Martell will be the second power in Westeros, and nothing will threaten us, no more Dornish daughters will suffer, and the Lannisters, Baratheons and Starks will see their Houses humiliated, destroyed and forgotten."

Oberyn had without looking back, he spoke one last time with their host and left Essos for an indefinite period. The princess cried after his departure, Viserys mocked her weakness and sent her to bed without telling her that he saw the Dornishman shed a tear as he boarded the ship. Plans were constantly being made, and none of them were ever going as planned, none of them had any certainty that they would see each other again. The Targaryens were always in great danger, especially so close to Westeros.

Everything had been prepared for the arrival of the khal, it had taken only a short time in truth, the Dothraki were a simple folk, who ate simply, dried horses in the great majority and who did not do the politeness to bend to the rules of the place where they were. And the Magister brought so much food with him that they didn't need to cook anything else. Daenerys didn't bother to dress to receive them, after all, the women of this folk were also dressed in trousers. They had agreed not to bring weapons, but the princess discreetly placed a dagger on her belt, just in case, Oberyn always told her. The khal was not the kind of man to keep to a schedule either, Dany chose to wait next to the dragon eggs that had been offered to her by the Magister, she had not yet moved them to her room, this place was better protected, and what was in that trunk was too important.

The eggs fascinated her, she didn't know why, they were only stone, would never be dragons and were just breathtakingly beautiful. Her brother had already made it known that they would cost a fortune, and the Magister, that they would only be hers as wedding gifts...

Daenerys wanted to keep them, no matter their values, they belonged to her House, they were its symbol, and the remains of a wonderful time when the dragons colored the sky. Their values were priceless. Then she thought back to her dream, and to the priestess, she had to have a private conversation with her, after all this she must understand, why she had this dream, why the heat of her bath was always hotter than that of others, and why the egg she had in her hands seemed to be warm and alive when no one else had noticed it. The woman was potentially dangerous, probably even, and she knew that listening to Oberyn was the right thing to do, but she at least had to talk to her, just one conversation.

A maid came to warn her that Viserys has sent for her. After carefully arranging her eggs out of sight, Daenerys joined her brother at the entrance to the estate where a welcome decoration had been erected. The meeting was so solemn for such a primitive people, and Dany kept clutching the fabric of her tunic of nervousness, all their safety rested on this red priestess still unknown the day before, when the princess would refuse the offer of the Horse Lord. And none of them even trusted her...

"You could have dressed up, dear sister, you represent our House."

"Our sigil is on my tunic, I represent our House as much as you, dear brother." She answered condescendingly.

Ilissa stood beside Daenerys as if to comfort her and assure her that she would never let them take her away, but the princess wouldn't let so many people die just to get out of this marriage, and if that priestess had lied, then she would marry the khal so the horde would leave Selhorys in peace. Oberyn had returned to the Targaryens' private home with the red priestess to watch over her, patiently waiting the time to come for her to intervene.

The sound of several hooves trampling the ground resounded in the air and soon, four horsemen were in front of them letting their mounts sing their greetings for them. They were very imposing, and knew how to hold the attention of their audience, their skins were coloured and signs were painted on them, specific to their culture, their hair was deep black and all braided with one or more bells hung on it. They were all bare-chested and their musculature was imposing, her brother seemed frail and insignificant in comparison, one of them was ahead of the others and his gaze was directed straight at her. It’s him, Khal Drogo, a beast, much stronger, taller and with much longer hair than the others, the most frightening man she had seen, and living in the streets she had seen many of them, but this one was of a different kind. If she were to be his wife, she would disappear completely between his arms, this man's thigh was almost as big as the width of her abdomen, it would be like mating a mare and an elephant... No, I can't marry him, he will break me in half as soon as he takes my hand... and I doubt he is that tender...

The man came closer and looked at her body from top to bottom, then from bottom to top, stopping for a moment on her breasts, he seemed to be torn between satisfaction and annoyance while Daenerys was simply indignant. He glanced at his companions and one of them left the scene. The Magister spoken in Dothraki to the khal and talked to Ilissa before they all entered her house for further conversation. Other Dothraki arrived afterwards, as did the Westerosi knight as they went through the tables full of food. The khal was seated next to her and threw himself on his food while the Magister explained the origins of it, her brother was on the other side and seemed disgusted by this people who, for the most part, remained standing and smelled with curiosity the dishes that were before their eyes. The Westerosi was sitting next to her brother and she could feel his gaze falling on her quite often. She was not really comfortable here and kept thinking about the drama that might unfold before her eyes, what would they do if she killed their chef right in front of their eyes? And could she do it? She had never killed a man before, but no, she would certainly condemn everyone to death, no people would let their king or queen die in front of their eyes without any consequences for the murderer...

"What is this impostor priestess doing? I can't stand those animals anymore." Viserys whispered in her ear right in the middle of his unpleasant tasting of his dried piece of horse. The Magister then stood up and placed himself before the table of the Targaryens.

"The khal wishes to know when the wedding can take place, he'd like it to be as soon as possible, the journey to Vaes Dothrak will be long and, forgive my next words, he'd like his heir to be in your womb before the horde joins the Dosh Khaleen."

Her brother rose angrily, the alcohol he ingested was probably responsible for such bold behavior, but he seemed to want to cut the Magister in half with the knife in his hand, and given the difference in size between the person and the object, it would probably take longer than they had.

"I never gave any consent to this marriage. What did you tell to make him think my sister would carry his horseshit?"

The Magister seemed caught off guard by the prince's reaction. "But... you have accepted my gift and I don't think it's reasonable for you to refuse..."

"You dare to threaten us?"

"Not me, of course, but the khal will not take no for an answer, their traditions are very important to them, he will make the princess his wife, and if blood must be shed for that, then the marriage will be all the more successful for the Dothraki."

"So let it be your blood, but my sister will never become his broodmare." Viserys took her hand and wanted to leave the room when the khal stood up, grabbed Dany's arm and pushed her brother brutally to the ground. Daenerys shouted a cry of surprise and tried to go and help him but the man grabbed her face so that she could look at him. His other hand went to the opening of her tunic, and when he tried to look inside, the princess grabbed her dagger and tried to stab him but the khal stopped her hand as the blade scratched his skin. The wound seemed to amuse him and he pressed a little harder on her hand so that the blade would dig a little deeper.

"Yer anni. Yer anni khaleesi."

The situation was now as she had feared, her brother was being held down by another Dothraki and the rest of them were ransacking the place. Ilissa and some of the maidservants were seized by the men who were about to rape them when flames higher than them burst out of the braziers and from the mouths of the stone statues. The room darkened and shadows danced on the walls, they represented horses that succumbed in the middle of a battle, the beasts were howling and their riders were forced to fight on the ground, the shadows represented flames devouring everything in their path. The priestess stood behind the Targaryens and repeated words in a language well known to Daenerys, High Valyrian. The khal let her go and seemed angry as his gaze fell on the priestess, the rest of his people let the women go before abusing them and looked at the shadows with fear.

The khal tried to approach her but other flames burst around her, her eyes shone bright red as she repeated the same words over and over again, smiling at her opponent. The flames were now dancing, threatening the Dothraki to burn them alive, Illyrio Mopatis had taken refuge under a table and was trembling with fear, Oberyn appeared in the opening of the entrance and have witnessed the whole scene apparently, she was hoping that he would not awaken the Magister's attention. The priestess was now speaking to the khal, in his language, the shadows on the ceiling turned into a great dragon flying over the room from side to side, and each of its breaths fanned the flames on the floor even more, and its howling was as icy as its shadow fire was burning.

The khal looked at Daenerys one last time before leaving the room followed by his men. The people remaining in the room were all shocked by what they just witnessed, the magic of the red priestesses was well known, but seeing it was far more confusing. No one dared to speak for a long time before their hostess walked over to the priestess to thank her.

"No need for that, honour your word and follow me. I'm counting on you Daenerys Stormborn."

She then left the room to join Oberyn outside, her brother followed shortly afterwards with a quick movement and Daenerys went towards the maids still in shock. She helped them up, brought them water and some comforting words before turning to the Magister who was trying to regain what little dignity he had left after the scene of weakness he had offered. Swelling his chest and clearing his throat, he addressed the princess and their hostess.

"It would have been wiser to accept the agreement with the Dothraki, this... woman will not always be there to protect you. I'm sorry I came all this way for nothing, I still wish to support the Targaryen's cause, if you'll try to be more reasonable. In the meantime, please return the dragon eggs to me, as I told you, they're yours only if you're married."

Daenerys didn't like this man, he didn't inspire her confidence, but after his words, it was now anger and impatience that she felt, did he threaten her? She thanked silently, whoever could hear her, that her brother wasn't there, or her ears would surely have suffered from a tone that was too loud and insulting.

"This is not my house, it's not for me to tell you to leave, and yet I will. You come here as a guest and you impose your laws, your banquets, your slaves, whom you treat even worse than the flies around you. You insult not only me, but also House Targaryen by thinking for a moment that I am for sale, and that you, as rich as you can be, will be the merchant who will arrange the transaction and that thanks to this, you could obtain a place of choice in our future kingdom. I am not one of your spices, I am not one of your slaves, and I am not negotiable, I already have a future husband, there will be a wedding, I am keeping the eggs so, respecting your conditions. Now I kindly advise you to return home, as soon as possible."The Magister seemed surprised by the words of the princess, he turned his eyes to Ilissa who smiled proudly towards Daenerys.

"I'm afraid, Magister, I can no longer welcome you in my house. I thank you for your gifts, and the kindness you have shown in allowing us to discover foreign specialties. It has been a...real pleasure to have you with us."

Words worthy of a snake wrapped in an angel's voice and a deceitful smile, Oberyn had told her about Ilissa. She had not succeeded and built up the whole business by being kind and welcoming of course, she could have been Dornish in another life, again, according to the words of her dear friend. The Magister soon left the place, while adding last words, of thanks but also of prevention, was it possible that the Dothraki would come back and attack Selhorys, or him with an army of mercenaries to avenge the offense? Daenerys had to apologize for bringing so much trouble into this house, but that's when she noticed that the Westerosi knight was still present. He stepped forward and, to her surprise, knelt down before her.

"I do not wish to follow the Dothraki, they are not my people, I want to help you, in the reconquest of Westeros, I want to serve you, my princess. ”

The young woman remained speechless for a few moments, then asked the knight to rise.

"It's not for me to decide this, my brother is the future king, speak to him. But I thank you for your words and your allegiance. ”

A former knight was a great asset to them, as was Oberyn, but where she had complete confidence in one, she could not say the same about the other. She left "the bear" with Ilissa to join her brother. Outside, there was already no trace of the Dothraki, except for some rubbish left here and there. She crossed the gardens quickly before entering her house where Viserys was calling out to the priestess.

"I don't know what you want with my sister, but it is out of the question that we follow you, you have made this decision without my agreement. Your shadows may frighten these savages, but not me. ”

A little lie my brother, Daenerys thought. She had seen the fear on his face, even Oberyn had been surprised and worried. He was sitting at a table, sharpening his dagger and drinking his wine, waiting for Viserys to keep quiet, but it was Dany who stopped him.

"Leave us alone. I want to talk to her." Before Viserys could reply she said "Please brother, I'm safe, she just saved us all and I'm not hiding anything from you, I just need to talk to her in private."

Without you being there to interrupt me, or her, at every moment... It was better not to add those words... Viserys gave the priestess an icy glance before leaving the room, grumbling imperceptibly. Oberyn followed while playing with his dagger, perhaps he thought he would frighten the priestess, but after witnessing such magic, she doubted he would succeed. The woman was always in a fixed, upright position, her hands folded over her belly, half a smile clinging to her face, that hypnotic, disquieting look and unreal beauty that emanated from her. She looked at Daenerys as if she knew who she was, her past, her future, and it was very confusing for the young woman, especially since she had appeared in her dream, before she met her.

"You don't seem to want us bad, but do you want us good? I don't know, and if you do, then why now? I've needed help for years, we've needed help, we could have died hundreds, thousands of times when we were on the street. I could have died at the same time as my mother, or at the hand of the traitors on Dragonstone who wanted a title from the usurper. ”

"Things aren't so simple, magic doesn't fix everything, you're not alone in this world, we didn't know, and we had to find you. The Lord of Light sends me visions into the flames, it's not always easy to interpret, I can't tell you what I don't know."

"The Lord of Light... R'hllor...?"

"Indeed... But you're making a mistake, we don't want to help you, we need your help. I just need to guide you. You must embrace your destiny, Daenerys Stormborn, it is far more important than you think, it is not limited to regaining your power and influence of your House, you must lead, you must also serve, serve our Master, and serve this world. ”

Her words fogged her mind even more, she had nothing particularly special, except the patience she had shown in putting up with her brother, she was far behind Oberyn when it came to fighting, and as a leader she would have little power after she becomes the queen.

"Why me? My brother will be king, he will rule."

"It is not him I saw in the flames, it is not him who dreams of the future, he is not the bride of fire, the daughter of fire, the daughter of dragons. It is not in your lineage, it is not in your claim to the throne, it is in your blood, in your heart, in your soul. It's not a choice, it's a destiny. But you can still choose your current life, you will never go home, you will live free, until this world is no more, but if you follow our way, your life will no longer belong to you, you will be the instrument of the Master who will bring back the Dawn, and you will save millions of lives. I can't force you, but you promised me, Daenerys."

The princess had been sitting on a chair and looking at the floor for some time now, the words of the priestess really disturbed her and she was still wondering if all this was possible, was it still a dream? The same words resounded constantly in her mind, why me? Why... ? When she looked up, she realized that the priestess still hadn’t moved, still that half smile and impassive attitude, as if she hadn't just shaken her whole life and that of her brother. What was she going to tell him anyway ? Did following this woman mean that they would have to be separated? She had only him, had known only him for so many years, he was her only real family, and without him she would not be here before this priestess who claims she has to save the world... But it is true that she made a promise. She had stupidly promised a stranger to get rid of a more urgent danger and she had to assume, even if she had to leave her brother for good, because she had no idea where she would have to go, or if she would come back. But this dream had been so real, her mother too, perhaps she had a chance to see her again, and if all was true? She must have known, because it wasn't the first dream she had, there had been dozens before that, she was too young to understand and had forgotten their content, but they were still connected to her House, to magic and dragons.

"I will follow you."

_____________________

"Yer anni. Yer anni khaleesi." : You are mine. You are my khaleesi.

[une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir]

THE SAME STORY (2-2)

MELISANDRE’S VISIONS

It’s been said that both books and show are different stories, but there are some major common stories including the endgame. What I propose here is an analysis of what is common between all the prophetic segments, that they all tell the same story. In specific (there are more), I have analysed the following

A CLASH OF KINGS #47 - Danerys # 4: Danerys visits the House of the Undying and sees some visions that foreshadow her future.

SPINOFF #2: Melisandre’s visions.

S02E10 - Valar Morghulis: Danerys visits the House of the Undying and sees some visions that foreshadow her future.

SPINOFF #1: Arya Stark will kill Danerys with Bran’s help.

S04E02 - The Lion and the Rose and S06E06 - Blood of my Blood: Bran Stark’s prophetic visions.

In this fifth post, I’ll analyse Melisandre’s prophetic visions and how they foreshadow Danerys burning Winterfell during the Battle against the Army of the Dead, in an attempt to kill Jon and ending up killing a “fake” Sansa instead.

MELISANDRE, THE RED WOMAN

Melisandre is a priestess of R'hllor, a religion based on a dualistic view of the world. R'hllor is the god of light and life, contrasted with it's antithesis the Great Other, the god of ice and death. She has the ability to see visions in the flames, which predict the future, though they are difficult to interpret and because of that she freestyles a lot. She joins Stannis Baratheon’s cause, believing him to be Azor Ahai reborn, a hero destined to defeat the Great Other.

In previous iterations of these analyses, I propose that R’hllor (represented by its champion Danerys and the dragons) and the Great Other (represented by its champion the Night King and the White Walkers) are neither good nor evil, just the two extremes of destructive elemental magic that are threats against humanity. Therefore, this fits the eponymous “A Song of Ice and Fire”, the franchise’s name which was derived from a poem by Robert Frost which characterises fire and ice as equally destructive forces.

Therefore, Melisandre’s prophetic visions should mostly relate to the struggle between fire and ice. She can predict random things as well of course, but the major ones should revolve around those matters. In specific, Melisandre gives off a few successful predictions here and there but there is one that is framed differently, warranting a cumbersome mistaken identity choo-choo train and it’s own dedicated chapter, ADWD #31 Melisandre. It’s worth noting that the Azor Ahai prophecy actually doesn’t come from Melisandre, in that case she’s simply parroting R’hllor’s prophecy and teachings that greatly predate her becoming a priestess of that religion.

Anyway, that prophetic vision presented in ADWD #31 Melisandre should tell the same story as well, specifically to the Azor Ahai section. Cross-referencing with the previous iterations of this post series, this means Danerys burning WInterfell. The question is, does this story fit with Melisandre’s prophetic visions. It’s my conviction that it does.

PREVIOUSLY, ON THE SAME STORY:

In broad strokes, Danerys finds out about Jon being the rightful heir to the Iron Throne and attempts to burn him with Drogon, outing herself as Azor Ahai as the destructive counterpart to the Night King / Others, ending up burning Winterfell as well as killing a fake!Sansa whether accidentally or on purpose. In this section, a summary of the foreshadowing of this event and where it can be found in other prophetic visions (explained in detail in the previous posts).

In the show, Danerys Targaryen visits the House of Undying in S02E10 - Valar Morghulis to rescue the dragons after they were stolen by Pyat Pree. She sees some visions which foreshadow her future. Amongst them, the following:

Danerys sees a stained-glass window with a blue flower, inside the Iron Throne room which is covered in snow. Moreover, she’s carrying a torch and the camera-work makes it pass over the blue flower. I propose that this represents Danerys finding out that Jon Snow is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, which will result in her burning him and / or Winterfell with dragonfire.

Also in the show, Bran Stark has two clusters of prophetic visions, the first in S04E02 - The Lion and the Rose and the second in S06E06 - Blood of my Blood. Amongst them, the following:

Bran sees an undead!horse, the Iron Throne covered in snow, the Night King behind an ice wall and a dragon over King’s Landing. I propose this represents that during the invasion of the Army of the Dead, Jon Snow being the rightful heir to the Iron Throne is revealed, moreover this will trigger the destructive forces of ice and fire (in other words, that Danerys + Drogon will prove herself to be as much of a threat as the Night King).

Bran sees parallel imagery of Danerys followed by Night King creating their respective elemental weapons, Aerys wishing to burn everything followed by Night King wishing to kill everything. These are preceded with a clip of the sun hanging low, Catelyn Tully being murdered at the Red Wedding, and followed by Joffrey executing Eddard Stark in revenge for saying he wasn’t the rightful heir. I propose this represents Danerys + Drogon will out themselves as threats against humanity as much as Night King + White Walkers during the Long Knight. Moreover, that Danerys will break-guest right (Red Wedding) in hopes of killing Jon since he denied her being the rightful heir to the Iron Throne (Joffrey executing Ned), consequently killing “Sansa Stark” (Cat) as well.

Bran sees the Long Night clip, followed by Danerys // Night King parallel, followed by Aerys wishing to burn King’s Landing, then the wildfire catching. This is followed by Aerys deciding to murder Aerys and then asking where is Lyanna, to find her dying  I propose this represents Danerys breaking guest-right by setting Winterfell on fire, that Arya will seek revenge against her and that Jon will find “Sansa” dead next to a tower.

In the books, Danerys visits the House of the Undying in ACOK #47 Danerys #4, after failing to gather support from the rest of Qarth. She sees some visions which are meant to give her knowledge on how to claim the Iron Throne (the visions show Jon Snow has a higher claim) and that foreshadow her future (what she’ll do once she realises this). Amongst them, the following:

Danerys sees a feast of corpses, which foreshadows the Red Wedding. I propose that this foreshadows another event where Danerys will break guest-right with the Starks (in hindsight, Danerys burning Winterfell with Drogon’s dragonfire).

Danerys sees Rhaegar saying that Aegon is the rightful king, that the dragon has three heads and that there must be one more. I propose this represents Jon Snow as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, he’s Rhaegar’s third child that he thought he needed.

Danerys meets a bunch of people with fake intentions, amongst them a kingly man who offers her food. I propose this represents Jon Snow inviting Danerys to Winterfell (in hindsight, to fight against the Army of the Dead).

Further along, Danerys meets the Undying and asks them to explain what she saw before meeting them. They mock her and explain whatever she saw through more riddles and visions (they should say the same as the ones above). Amongst them, the following:

“… three fires must you light … one for life and one for death and one to love … (…) Viserys screamed as the molten gold ran down his cheeks and filled his mouth.” This represents Danerys allowing Drogo to kill Viserys at Vaes Dothrak, breaking guest-right and usurping him. I propose this represents Danerys using Drogon to try to kill Jon at Winterfell, breaking guest-right in an attempt to usurp him.

 “ … three mounts must you ride … one to bed and one to dread and one to love … (…) Glowing like sunset, a red sword was raised in the hand of a blue-eyed king who cast no shadow. A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire. … mother of dragons, slayer of lies …” This represents Stannis as Azor Ahai, a person that people cheer for, and a beast flying off to burn shit. I propose this represents Danerys being Azor Ahai (and not Stannis) and this is a threat to humanity (not someone people should cheer for), and that she’ll reveal it by burning Winterfell (smoking tower = Burned Tower).

THE GIRL IN GREY

GRRM likes to use characters as shadows of someone else. In Jon Snow’s case, there are a few characters who apparently are love interests but whose attributes code what he’s either attracted to or repulsed by. These characters and Jon’s story with them exist independently, but I believe there are details about them which are also meant to foreshadow future storylines with other characters. In specific, Jon as a man appreciates specific attributes in these characters which foreshadow his endgame love interest to be Sansa Stark.

Melisandre’s prophetic visions in ADWD #31 Melisandre feature three out four of these women. Jon has a moment where he mistakes the two redheads Ygritte and Melisandre, which alludes to a “mistaken identity” plot and then bleeds into those same prophetic visions which allude to the brunette Alys Karstark (who was changed from having brown hair in the books, to having red hair in the show). In specific, this is known as the “girl in grey” prophecy. People often treat the whole thing separately (crumbling towers by the sea, the girl in the grey, “Brynden Rivers” and Bran Stark, Jon Snow as Azor Ahai?), but I believe that is wrong and treat it together.

ADWD #28 Jon #6

In general, Jon’s character arc is a mistaken identity plot since he’s not Ned’s bastard but Rhaegar’s trueborn son, but Jon’s arc in ADWD in specific is full of mistaken identity plots (Jon swapping Mance and Gilly’s babies, Melisandre disguising Mance as Rattleshirt, fake!Arya who is actually Jeyne Poole, the inane grey girl plot, etc etc). In broad strokes, it hints that Jon mistaking people should be looked at carefully because they foreshadow something else.

In this chapter, Jon receives a raven informing him that his half-sister Arya Stark is to marry Ramsay Bolton. He’s conflicted between keeping faith with the Night’s Watch and worrying about Arya. In reality, this isn’t Arya but Jeyne Poole in disguise. In the books, this is part of Jon’s Winterfell side-plot where he's tempted back to his family and pander to his wish to retake his home. In the show, Jeyne was switched by Sansa and they conveniently made Jon clueless about the whole thing (not a good look if he did know she was there getting raped and yet did nothing, because Sansa is his endgame love interest).

Sometime after, Jon goes for a walk with Ghost to angst about this, then finds Melisandre who he mistakes for Ygritte at first. Melisandre tells Jon that she knows about his sister Arya marrying Ramsay and that she has seen her in prophetic visions. Much later on, the “girl in grey” that Melisandre sees will be “revealed” to be Alys Karstark instead. In hindsight, it will become obvious that the “girl in grey” is actually meant to be Sansa Stark since she lurks in the background in all these mistaken identities: Arya Stark // Jeyne Poole, Ygritte // Melisandre, Alys Karstark // Sansa Stark. In the show, they cut this bloated storyline by switching Jeyne with Sansa and making Alys Karstark a redhead.

    [01] In the shadow of the Wall, the direwolf brushed up against his fingers. For half a heartbeat the night came alive with a thousand smells, and Jon Snow heard the crackle of the crust breaking on a patch of old snow. Someone was behind him, he realized suddenly. Someone who smelled warm as a summer day.     [02] When he turned he saw Ygritte. She stood beneath the scorched stones of the Lord Commander’s Tower, cloaked in darkness and in memory. The light of the moon was in her hair, her red hair kissed by fire. When he saw that, Jon’s heart leapt into his mouth. “Ygritte,” he said.     “Lord Snow.” The voice was Melisandre’s.     Surprise made him recoil from her. “Lady Melisandre.” He took a step backwards. “I mistook you for someone else.” [03] At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red. He did not understand how he could have taken her for Ygritte. She was taller, thinner, older, though the moonlight washed years from her face.

[01] Jon feels someone that smells as warm as a summer day. This can’t be Ygritte since he met her in autumn and it can’t be Melisandre since he says she smells of smoke and blood the first time they meet in ASOS. The “warm as a summer day” gives it away as who this really is meant to foreshadow, a regular childhood acquaintance since most of Jon’s childhood that he remembers took place during the Long Summer (in specific, Sansa was born either at spring or summer, while Arya was definitely born in summer).

AGOT #52 Jon #7: The old men called this weather spirit summer, and said it meant the season was giving up its ghosts at last. After this the cold would come, they warned, and a long summer always meant a long winter. This summer had lasted ten years. Jon had been a babe in arms when it began.

[02] Jon then mistakes Ygritte and Melisandre, but he’s dismayed as to why this happened when they’re actually very different physically and the only thing in common is that they’re both redheads. A childhood acquaintance who has red hair, so Cat and all of the Stark kids (except Arya, which is notable since she and Jeyne are both brunettes, who they think the “girl in grey” is at first). Ygritte and Melisandre (and later the “girl in grey”) are all female, so this suggests the subject should be one as well, narrowing this further to either Cat or Sansa. Since Cat and Jon disliked each other, Jon wouldn’t characterise her as having a warm smell, therefore by the elimination of parts we get Sansa (awww).

[03] Jon has a daltonic event and mistakes robe colours, he sees Melisandre’s red robes as grey robes. This is notable since they are talking about the “girl in grey” next. This suggests the whole passage should all be looked at together as a single foreshadowing event, therefore to look more closely at all these mistaken identities which I’ve already done in [01] and [02]. The conclusion is that this “girl in grey” is actually meant to represent Sansa. Again, in the show they cut all this bloating, making Sansa go to Jon at the Wall and that’s it.

    “The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you.”     “I have no sister.” The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?    Melisandre seemed amused. “What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?”    “Arya.” His voice was hoarse. “My half-sister, truly –”     “– for you are bastard born. I had not forgotten. I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. Coming here, to you. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will.”

Melisandre says she has seen in prophetic visions that Arya will be coming to Jon at the Wall, dressed in grey and on a dying horse, fleeing from Ramsay’s marriage. Most of what Melisandre says is actually nonsense fuelled by filling the blanks and wishful thinking, because two or three chapters later there’s a POV chapter with Melisandre and only about half of this is truth. Melisandre only sees a grey girl on a dying horse, coming to the Wall to Jon for his protection. It’s possible that Sansa is also fleeing a marriage since it’s present in both fake!Arya and Alys storyline (Arya + Jeyne, Alys, Alayne, all brown-haired, get it?), but that detail isn’t necessary due to never being stated that way. Melisandre filled the blanks with faulty logic, most likely because she overheard Jon receiving Ramsay’s letter in some way (or she was informed). She got the “sister” part right, but that only out of sheer luck.

ADWD #31 Melisandre: The girl. I must find the girl again, the grey girl on the dying horse. Jon Snow would expect that of her, and soon. It would not be enough to say the girl was fleeing. He would want more, he would want the when and where, and she did not have that for him.

ADWD #31 Melisandre: “The girl,” she said. “A girl in grey on a dying horse. Jon Snow’s sister.” Who else could it be? She was racing to him for protection, that much Melisandre had seen clearly.

Melisandre doesn’t give the context as to why she sees the “girl in grey” in her fires. Since her objective is for Jon to trust her just like Stannis trusts her so they can make shadow babies together (dreadful), the logical conclusion is that she asked to be shown something important enough to move him. In response, the fires answered with Sansa (awww). This may be indirectly confirmed by Melisandre commenting that she can see into men’s souls and Jon’s own words loaded with authorial intent, “What do you know of my heart, priestess?“ It suggests that Jon already loves Sansa at this point (there are others sprinkled in the text that suggest it as well), which is the type of icky stuff GRRM would do and that (in this case) I very much appreciate. It shouldn’t matter either way, if this is foreshadowing of the future or says something about the past as well, since the endgame is the same though.

ADWD #03 Jon #1: “I shall pray for the Lord of Light to send me guidance. When I gaze into the flames, I can see through stone and earth, and find the truth within men’s souls. I can speak to kings long dead and children not yet born, and watch the years and seasons flicker past, until the end of days.”

S05E04 - Sons of Harpy

In the show, Jeyne Poole and Mance Rayder (the whole “girl in grey”) were cut from the storyline. In consequence, Melisandre skips the mental seduction and power tripping, going right into the physical seduction (the show is just “sexy” like that, urgh). Jon is very tempted by Melisandre’s beauty (also a metaphor for her power), when Sam leaves them alone he sits straighter and clutches the armrest like a green boy and when she undresses he’s rekt because she’s a redhead with nice titties (the camera-work purposely focus on both with light tricks and close-ups) and he’s very weak against those (he’s a consistent man).

There’s a portion of the dialogue which is common in both mediums. Melisandre promises that if Jon gives himself to her (make shadow babies with her), she’ll give him the power to obtain what he wants. In the books, both Winterfell and a way to save Arya, while in the show, it’s just Winterfell since he’s oblivious about Ramsay having Sansa. In both cases as well, Jon is very much tempted but refuses, saying he swore the Night’s Watch vows, but in the show when she looks at him pointedly because she doesn’t believe him, he adds that he doesn’t want to since he “loves another” still. This is nonsense, Jon is refusing because he knows Melisandre is dangerous and he doesn’t want to be indebted to her (these are his thoughts in the books).

What’s interesting about this scene is actually the potential for Sansa in the background, as was the case for the equivalent chapter in the books.

Sam mentions Lord Ashford, which could be a reference to the Ashford Tourney theory, predicting a Targaryan as Sansa’s final suitor (in the show, it has to be Jon since Aegon VI was cut from the storyline).

Jon is writing stuff down with a quill and two scenes afterwards, Sansa finds Lyanna’s feather at the Crypts of Winterfell. These two scenes are connected visually by a feather object.

Jon is upset for having to ask the Boltons for resources and then he’s seduced by a redhead but refusing by saying he still loves another, while Sansa discusses Jon’s real parents with Littlefinger, as well as her upcoming marriage to Ramsay Bolton. These two scenes are connected thematically as well (sexually even, which is... kind of telling).

This means that either this is a huge coincidence (nah) or they managed to adapt the “mistaken identity” conundrum, just made with different symbolism (very nasty symbolism, the smelling warm like a summer day is just... *cries*), though the underlying idea is the same. Jon “mistakes” Melisandre with Ygritte (well, kinda), but the subtext actually means Sansa.

ADWD #31 MELISANDRE

Melisandre has one POV chapter in the whole series, ADWD #31 Melisandre, where she’s in her chambers, looking into the fire and trying to have visions. It becomes obvious very quickly that Melisandre's interpretation skills are quite bad since her logic process is very flawed. What this also means is whatever Melisandre says she sees in the fire in other character’s POV chapters should be interpreted with huge caution.

    The red priestess closed her eyes and said a prayer, then opened them once more to face the hearthfire. One more time. She had to be certain. Many a priest and priestess before her had been brought down by false visions, by seeing what they wished to see instead of what the Lord of Light had sent.  Stannis was marching south into peril, the king who carried the fate of the world upon his shoulders, Azor Ahai reborn. Surely R’hllor would vouchsafe her a glimpse of what awaited him. Show me Stannis, Lord, she prayed. Show me your king, your instrument.

This passage suggests that R’hllor’s visions are very difficult to interpret to begin with, that people who have these visions are prone to see what they wish to see reflected in them instead of what it really means. In case of Melisandre, it means that her instinct is to believe she’s serving a good god and relate what she sees to Stannis. This is Melisandre’s bias filter.

However, this passage is also explicit in what she’s asking R’hllor to show her. She asks the flames to show her Azor Ahai, which is R’hllor’s champion. What she’ll see next is the same story. Danerys outing herself as Azor Ahai by burning Winterfell with Drogon, moreover attempting to kill Jon Snow and succeeding in killing someone that is mistaken by Sansa Stark.

    [04] Visions danced before her, gold and scarlet, flickering, forming and melting and dissolving into one another, shapes strange and terrifying and seductive. She saw the eyeless faces again, staring out at her from sockets weeping blood. [05] Then the towers by the sea, crumbling as the dark tide came sweeping over them, rising from the depths. Shadows in the shape of skulls, skulls that turned to mist, bodies locked together in lust, writhing and rolling and clawing. [06] Through curtains of fire great winged shadows wheeled against a hard blue sky.

[04] Melisandre describes the visions she sees in the fire with words associated with fire. The colours are gold and scarlet which are the colour of fire, the verbs are flickering like the movement of flames and then a more flowery language way of describing them, forming / melting / dissolving into one another. Later she’ll also see snowflakes and the like, things different from fire that she can distinguish. What Melisandre is glossing over is that she’s watching something on fire (in hindsight, Winterfell).

This is confirmed by the following phrase. Melisandre sees eyeless faces, staring out of sockets weeping blood. This type of imagery pinpoints what kind of fire it is, since it’s also used with Azor Ahai killing “monsters” with Lightbringer as well as Danerys killing people with dragonfire (in hindsight, they’re the same thing). There are other variants, but the most substantial example is with the common expression: “eyes melting down their cheeks”. In other words, “eyeless sockets weeping blood”.

ASOS #27 Danerys #3: “Drogon,” she sang out loudly, sweetly, all her fear forgotten. “Dracarys.” The black dragon spread his wings and roared. A lance of swirling dark flame took Kraznys full in the face. His eyes melted and ran down his cheeks, and the oil in his hair and beard burst so fiercely into fire that for an instant the slaver wore a burning crown twice as tall as his head.

ADWD #10 Jon #3: “I looked at that book Maester Aemon left me. The Jade Compendium. The pages that told of Azor Ahai. Lightbringer was his sword. Tempered with his wife’s blood if Votar can be believed. Thereafter Lightbringer was never cold to the touch, but warm as Nissa Nissa had been warm. In battle the blade burned fiery hot. Once Azor Ahai fought a monster. When he thrust the sword through the belly of the beast, its blood began to boil. Smoke and steam poured from its mouth, its eyes melted and dribbled down its cheeks, and its body burst into flame.”

ADWD #16 Danerys #3: “My dragons have grown, my shoulders have not. They range far afield, hunting.” Hazzea, forgive me. She wondered how much Xaro knew, what whispers he had heard. “Ask the Good Masters of Astapor about my dragons if you doubt them.” I saw a slaver’s eyes melt and go running down his cheeks. “Tell me true, old friend, why did you seek me out if not to trade?”

[05] Melisandre describes the sea destroying towers. It’s worth remembering that these visions are supposed to be tricky, so the most likely interpretation that these are towers by the sea is factually wrong. Since I propose this to be the same story that is being told, the common subject of Winterfell being destroyed by the sea as well as Winterfell burning was already explored before. In ACOK, Jojen Reed had a green dream where the sea came to Winterfell and that predicted the Greyjoys invading Winterfell. There is a very good meta that proposes this green-dream predicts Winterfell will burn a third time and that it will be invaded by the sea once more (I cannot find it because I’m incompetent and don’t tag), but this time by Danerys with the Dothraki, which hail from the Great Grass Sea. That fits quite well into this.

Moreover, Melisandre describes the sea as a dark tide made of skulls that rose from the depths and sweeps over the towers to destroy them. Together, these suggest the Army of the Dead, since that one is composed of undead corpses (dark tide made of skulls) which have been reanimated (rose from the depths), as well as their invasion of Winterfell (sweeping over the towers and destroying them). Furthermore, the skeletons are having freaky sex and intercourse in ASOIAF’s prophetic dreams often mean war (for example, Danerys sees some dwarves fucking a woman as an allegory for the War of the Five Kings). It’s worth noting that “rising from the depths” could also allude to the corpses inside the crypts Winterfell, suggesting all those dead Starks can come back to either join the Army of the Dead or fight against them.

ACOK #34 Bran #4: “I dreamed that the sea was lapping all around Winterfell. I saw black waves crashing against the gates and towers, and then the salt water came flowing over the walls and filled the castle. Drowned men were floating in the yard. When I first dreamed the dream, back at Greywater, I didn’t know their faces, but now I do. That Alebelly is one, the guard who called our names at the feast. Your septon’s another. Your smith as well.”

[06] Melisandre describes great winged shadows flying in a wide curve amidst tall fires. This suggests that the dragons are flying over and setting stuff on fire (in hindsight, the dragons are setting Winterfell on fire). While the three dragons are described as winged shadows, this is most prevalent with Drogon.

AGOT #68 Danerys #9: Wings shadowed her fever dreams. (...) She raced, her feet melting the stone wherever they touched. "Faster!" the ghosts cried as one, and she screamed and threw herself forward. A great knife of pain ripped down her back, and she felt her skin tear open and smelled the stench of burning blood and saw the shadow of wings. And Daenerys Targaryen flew. (...) And now the stone was gone and she flew across the Dothraki sea, high and higher, the green rippling beneath, and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings.

ACOK #12 Danerys #1: "Aegon's dragons were named for the gods of Old Valyria," she told her bloodriders one morning after a long night's journey. "(...) and Balerion ... his fire was as black as his scales, his wings so vast that whole towns were swallowed up in their shadow when he passed overhead." The Dothraki looked at her hatchlings uneasily. The largest of her three was shiny black, his scales slashed with streaks of vivid scarlet to match his wings and horns. "Khaleesi," Aggo murmured, "there sits Balerion, come again."

ASOS #27 Danerys #3: "And here he waits." Ser Jorah and Belwas walked beside her to the litter, where Drogon and his brothers lay basking in the sun. Jhiqui unfastened one end of the chain, and handed it down to her. When she gave a yank, the black dragon raised his head, hissing, and unfolded wings of night and scarlet. Kraznys mo Nakloz smiled broadly as their shadow fell across him.

ADWD #2 Danerys #1: Bones they were, broken bones and blackened. The longer ones had been cracked open for their marrow. "It were the black one," the man said, in a Ghiscari growl, "the winged shadow. He come down from the sky and … and …"

ADWD #11 Danerys #2: And Drogon ... The winged shadow, the grieving father called him. He was the largest of her three, the fiercest, the wildest, with scales as black as night and eyes like pits of fire.

ADWD #52 Danerys #9: Dany hit him. "No," she screamed, swinging the lash with all the strength that she had in her. The dragon jerked his head back. "No," she screamed again. "NO!" The barbs raked along his snout. Drogon rose, his wings covering her in shadow. Dany swung the lash at his scaled belly, back and forth until her arm began to ache. His long serpentine neck bent like an archer's bow. With a hisssssss, he spat black fire down at her. Dany darted underneath the flames, swinging the whip and shouting, "No, no, no. Get DOWN!" His answering roar was full of fear and fury, full of pain. His wings beat once, twice …

This type of “winged shadow” imagery is shared with an eagle that stalks Jon during ACOK (in fact, it’s a skinchanger checking up on Mormont’s column) and later attacks him when he’s taken hostage by the wildlings because it detects he’s being duplicitous. This blue-grey eagle is changed to a black eagle in the show (subtle) and attacks Jon right after he outs himself as a betrayer (”You were right the whole time!”). Together, these foreshadow that Danerys will attempt to burn Jon with Drogon, butthurt about him betraying her.

ACOK #52 Jon #7: Then a sudden gust of cold made his fur stand up, and the air thrilled to the sound of wings. As he lifted his eyes to the ice-white mountain heights above, a shadow plummeted out of the sky. A shrill scream split the air. He glimpsed blue-grey pinions spread wide, shutting out the sun ... "Ghost!" Jon shouted, sitting up. He could still feel the talons, the pain. "Ghost, to me!"

 ASOS #73 Jon #10: "Something's coming." Varamyr sat crosslegged on the half-frozen ground, his wolves circled restlessly around him. A shadow swept over him, and Jon looked up to see the eagle's blue-grey wings. "Coming, from the east [Essos]."

I refuse to post #agony kissing each other’s chin and moustache, with Jon staring at Drogon over Danerys’ shoulder while the dragon glares at him in suspicion because EWWW, but that’s the perfect moment to post here so whatever... imagine it,

[07]The girl. I must find the girl again, the grey girl on the dying horse. Jon Snow would expect that of her, and soon. It would not be enough to say the girl was fleeing. He would want more, he would want the when and where, and she did not have that for him. [08] She had seen the girl only once. A girl as grey as ash, and even as I watched she crumbled and blew away.

[07] Melisandre switches focus and thinks about the "grey girl” and how she must find more about her in the flames, to appease Jon. She’s dismayed she hasn’t seen her again, but she’s actually asking the flames the wrong question. Melisandre asked the flames to show her Azor Ahai, so they showed Danerys burning Winterfell and outing herself as such. She now wishes to find the grey girl again, so the flames show her how to find her (in hindsight, it’s Bran as the Three-Eyed Raven through the Weirwood Network).

[08] This girl is as grey as ash, she crumbles and blows away. This is the same imagery of burning until there’s nothing but ash. This fits the scenario where Danerys burns Winterfell and ends up burning someone that is mistaken by Sansa either willingly or unwillingly (I’d say willingly). Jon later believes this is grey girl is Alys Karstark and in the show, it has been speculated that she will die and be mistaken for Sansa (they even changed her hair from black to red between adaptations).

    A face took shape within the hearth. Stannis? she thought, for just a moment – but no, these were not his features. A wooden face, corpse white. Was this the enemy? A thousand red eyes floated in the rising flames. He sees me. Beside him, a boy with a wolf’s face threw back his head and howled.

This is Bran Stark (wolf boy) with a Weirwood Heart Tree (wooden face and corpse-white). Together, these represent Bran as the Three-Eyed Raven’s powers to check out the Weirwood Network and find out about things (”a thousand red eyes that see everywhere”). Melisandre’s question is answered, Bran will find this grey girl through the Weirwood Network. In hindsight, this suggests that Bran will find out about Sansa’s mistaken identity as well as kidnapping (?), plus that he’ll find out where she was taken.

    The red priestess shuddered. Blood trickled down her thigh, black and smoking. The fire was inside her, an agony, an ecstasy, filling her, searing her, transforming her. Shimmers of heat traced patterns on her skin, insistent as a lover’s hand. Strange voices called to her from days long past. “Melony,” she heard a woman cry. A man’s voice called, “Lot Seven.” She was weeping, and her tears were flame. And still she drank it in.

This functions as “punctuation”, separating the former segment from the latter. Melisandre sees herself before she became a priestess of R’hllor, as a slave sold to a red temple at an early age. It’s worth noting that this would be a clever way for the author to hint at a kidnapping plot, as slaves have no agency and they’re only property of someone else (as a hostage, Sansa is known as the property of the crown, this is exactly what Littlefinger calls her situation).

    Snowflakes swirled from a dark sky and ashes rose to meet them, the grey and the white whirling around each other as flaming arrows arced above a wooden wall and dead things shambled silent through the cold, beneath a great grey cliff where fires burned inside a hundred caves. Then the wind rose and the white mist came sweeping in, impossibly cold, and one by one the fires went out. Afterward only the skulls remained.     Death, thought Melisandre. The skulls are death.     The flames crackled softly, and in their crackling she heard the whispered name Jon Snow. His long face floated before her, limned in tongues of red and orange, appearing and disappearing again, a shadow half-seen behind a fluttering curtain. Now he was a man, now a wolf, now a man again. But the skulls were here as well, the skulls were all around him. Melisandre had seen his danger before, had tried to warn the boy of it. Enemies all around him, daggers in the dark. He would not listen.     Unbelievers never listened until it was too late.

This is like a continuation of what Melisandre asked first in [1,2,3], it’s what follows Danerys burning Winterfell, the Battle against the Army of the Dead proper. A dark sky represents the Long Night, the white snowflakes and the grey ash represents the destructive forces of both ice and fire respectively. The Others have brought their cold winds to Winterfell and Danerys has burned it as well because she’s raging. Interestingly, since it implies that some type of undead wins the battle (”the wind rose and white mist came, one by one the fires went out and afterwards only the skulls remained”), either killing everyone or forcing them to flee south.

Jon is also mentioned of course. He’ll fight this battle, as expected. Much later, it’s implied that Melisandre’s visions are meant to symbolise “dragons” and “kings”, which fits this narrative. Danerys as Azor Ahai and burning stuff with Drogon, Jon and Winterfell both, out of anger because she finds out Jon is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne.

ADWD #39 Jon #8: “And keep him away from the red woman. She knows who he is. She sees things in her fires.” Arya, he thought, hoping it was so. “Ashes and cinders.” “Kings and dragons.” Dragons again. For a moment Jon could almost see them too, coiling in the night, their dark wings outlined against a sea of flame. “If she knew, she would have taken the boy away from us. Dalla’s boy, not your monster. A word in the king’s ear would have been the end of it.” And of me. Stannis would have taken it for treason. “Why let it happen if she knew?” “Because it suited her. Fire is a fickle thing. No one knows which way a flame will go.”

    “What do you see, my lady?” the boy asked, softly.     Skulls. A thousand skulls, and the bastard boy again. Jon Snow. (...) Yet now she could not even seem to find her king. I pray for a glimpse of Azor Ahai, and R’hllor shows me only Snow.

To recap... Melisandre asks the flames to show her Azor Ahai, so she sees what she believes are “unrelated” visions, but they’re actually Danerys burning Winterfell and outing herself as Azor Ahai (the same story). Melisandre thinks she must find the grey girl, so she sees what she believes is the enemy, but it’s actually Bran as the Three-Eyed Raven because he gets to find the grey girl. Melisandre trips out and then the visions continue “unprompted”, she sees Jon Snow because he’s the one who’s going to rescue Sansa after being told by Bran where she’s at. Yet, she connects Azor Ahai with Jon Snow.

Even if people don’t agree with what I’m proposing, it should be more than clear Melisandre misread what she sees in the flames because she has bad basic interpretation. Melisandre should be equating Azor Ahai with either the skulls being naughty because that’s the first thing she sees or the wolf boy since that’s the first person she actually sees, but instead she dismisses the former as non-important and the latter as the enemy (Bran is R’hllor’s champion’s enemy alright, but not how she believes), then bridges the start vision with the end vision, identifying Azor Ahai with Jon Snow. It’s very bad.

    (...) [09] “The girl,” she said. “A girl in grey on a dying horse. Jon Snow’s sister.” Who else could it be? [10] She was racing to him for protection, that much Melisandre had seen clearly. “I have seen her in my flames, but only once. We must win the lord commander’s trust, and the only way to do that is to save her.”     “Me save her, you mean? The Lord o’ Bones?” He laughed. “No one ever trusted Rattleshirt but fools. Snow’s not that. If his sister needs saving, he’ll send his crows. I would.”     “He is not you. He made his vows and means to live by them. The Night’s Watch takes no part. But you are not Night’s Watch. You can do what he cannot.”

[09] Who else could it be? This is blatant trolling by the author since this is a string of mistaken identities. [A] Jon Snow has no sisters since he’s a mistaken identity himself, he’s unwittingly posing as Eddard Stark’s bastard son when he’s Rhaegar Targaryan and Lyanna Stark’s trueborn son, so his sisters are his cousins. [B] Jon was informed Ramsay Bolton married Arya as a captive in Winterfell and Melisandre must have known about him, so she tricks him into thinking that the “girl in grey” is Arya when it’s Jeyne in disguise. [C] Jon later believes this "girl in grey” means Alys Karstark (it is and isn’t) since Stark and Karstark are kin some generations back. In resume.

Jon’s sister but Jon says he has no sister because they’re his cousins, he has two instead of one and such Sansa lurks in the background.

Arya Stark, who’s actually Jeyne Poole. Theon spends ADWD comparing these two to Sansa, therefore Sansa lurks in the background. In the show, Sansa took this plot directly.

Alys Karstark, who is kind of random... but that I propose will be killed and mistaken for Sansa, therefore Sansa lurks in the background. In the show, her hair colour was changed from brown to red to match Sansa’s.

[10] The grey girl goes to the Wall for Jon’s protection is framed as certain. The way this is framed is the same as GRRM’s original plotline, where “Arya” goes to the Wall for protection. That original plotline is now irrelevant as most of it has taken another form (including Arya’s character), but Jon’s sister going to the Wall for protection seems to be something that was carried over. In the books, it’s a side-plot that keeps tempting him back to his family and back home (successfully). In the show, it’s played “straight” since Sansa took Jeyne’s plot and later flees Winterfell with Theon to the Wall for Jon’s protection. It’s unclear how the Night’s Watch’s vows business will go in the books, in the original plotline Jon turns Arya down because of them, while in the show Jon believes he was released from them and swears to protect Sansa immediately.

So in TWOW, Sansa will bail out from the Vale and will flee to the Wall to Jon. I’ve seen several metas on how this sister is supposed to be Sansa (I agree!!) and what way she’ll travel. They’re all very good and I recommend them (if only I tagged and knew how to find them in the rat maze that is my blog) I’m actually only going to make a few observations of the following passage which I don’t believe where made in any of them (if they were, I honestly don’t remember and I apologise in advance. They predict the way she’s coming, but they also identify her through those same descriptions.

    [11] “If your stiff-necked lord commander will allow it. Did your fires show you where to find this girl?”     “I saw water. Deep and blue and still, with a thin coat of ice just forming on it. It seemed to go on and on forever.”     “Long Lake. [12] What else did you see around this girl?”     “Hills. Fields. Trees. A deer, once. Stones. She is staying well away from villages. [13] When she can she rides along the bed of little streams, to throw hunters off her trail.”     He frowned. “That will make it difficult. She was coming north, you said. Was the lake to her east or to her west?”     Melisandre closed her eyes, remembering. “West.”     [14] “She is not coming up the kingsroad, then. Clever girl. There are fewer watchers on the other side, and more cover. And some hidey-holes I have used myself from time –” He broke off at the sound of a warhorn and rose swiftly to his feet.

[11] Melisandre describes “where” this sister can be found with an elemental allegory of water and ice. Sansa is half-Tully from her mother’s side, the lords of Riverrun and the Riverlands, a place associated with rivers and waters. She resembles her mother and she has the same eye colour, which Littlefinger describes in AFFC as “blue as a sunlit sea” and when she’s a bit older many men will drown in them (younger too, apparently). Sansa is half-Stark from her father’s side, the lords of Winterfell and the North, associated with ice and snow. This piece of land comprises half the territory of the Seven Kingdoms and both Robert Baratheon and Tyrion Lannister have described the North as “going on forever”. While the element fits all the Stark kids, since it’s female and the insistence on the colour blue points to Sansa over Arya.

[12] Melisandre describes the “surroundings” of this sister with another nature allegory referencing the current location and even the relevant characters. Sansa is at the Vale, a region associated with mountains and vales and trees. In specific, Sansa begins AFFC at the Eyrie which is the Vale’s highest point (hill) and then descends into the Gates of the Moon at the mountain’s base (field), said to be surrounded by a thick forest. These locations are both very far away from regular villages as they’re two isolated castles. The following, mentioning a deer and stones and streams suggests she’d go through forest, whatever stone means (mountains for example) and water.

Sansa befriends plenty of people, but not that many would fit the words “hill”, “field”, “trees”, “streams”. Only Mya Stone is referenced proper, she’s Robert’s Baratheon bastard daughter, whose house sigil is a stag (deer) and whose surname is stone. This suggests that Mya accompanies Sansa in her journey North. The rest, I’ve no idea. There is “water” in this, so this could mean Brynden Tully, Gendry Waters, Brienne Tarth (in her case, there’s also the colour blue). In the show, Brynden is randomly killed, Gendry shows up in Winterfell in a very forced manner, and Brienne does find Sansa on her way North. Of all three, Brienne has big chances.

[13] The journey north references avoiding hunters, which can both signify the bounty hunters that are at the Vale after Sansa (for example, Ser Shadrich), as well as the Boltons later on. Ramsay is a known hunter in both medias, in the show he’s precisely introduced in this fashion hunting for a human girl (!), and after Theon and Sansa escape Winterfell they are chased by his dogs. In a way, just this alone hints that there will be some kind of chasing sequence.

There is the widely accepted theory that Jon is going to stay inside Ghost for awhile while “dead”, which considering the dynamics at play suggest some kind of Red Riding Hood reversal moment (Jon while warging Ghost as the “big wolf” but he’s good instead of bad), Sansa as the “red cap” since she’s a redhead, Ramsay as the hunter chasing after her but he’s evil instead of good). It’s worth noting that GRRM likes fairytales with wolves and specifically mentioned Little Red Riding Hood and the Starks in an interview a few years back.

2014-11-09: "Well, they're mythic. I think even as a kid I responded to the werewolf legends and the wolves in the wood and, you know, Little Red Riding Hood and all of that," says Martin, who claims his choice for the Stark's direwolf banner came from a gut feeling rather than an attempt at symbolism.

There is a specific passage in Jon’s very first chapter in AGOT that could be foreshadowing for such a plot as well. Jon feeds Ghost some chicken, there’s a mongrel who attempts to steal the food (Ramsay has hunting dogs which he calls his girls) from the wolf and the two face off, but then Ghost wins. In this case, the food can foreshadow Sansa and / or Winterfell (I’d say both). In the show, Jon and Sansa retake Winterfell from Ramsay, fulfilling this little one.

AGOT #05 Jon #1: Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal. Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

As a side-note, there is a sexual component to all these stories. Ramsay rapes and tortures Jeyne in the books and Sansa in the show. The Little Red Riding Hood is actually an allegory for sexual male desire and a girl having sex for the first time (colloquially, “she has seen the wolf” *shifts eyes*). AGOT #05 Jon #1 foreshadows the conflict between Ramsay and Jon through animal counterparts where they’re both hungry and I’ve watched Evangelion too many times it also features a sexual pun (”He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs.”). I’m not sure what to think of it. I’m just hoping Sansa’s fate is kinder in the books than in the show, because from that disgusting mess of season 5 I’ll only miss Sansa’s friendship with Theon Greyjoy.

[14] Melisandre mentions that the grey girl will travel through isolated areas to avoid being seen. Mance believes this makes the grey girl a clever girl. I could write about Sansa is smart but I’ll let Arya speak for me. Yeah.

THE BURNING OF WINTERFELL

It’s interesting to look for Jon’s chapters to find Sansa’s shadows, to see if they have foreshadowing of her role in his life. There is a “redhead obsession” with Ygritte and Melisandre (the show added Ros as well), it is clear they are meant to foreshadow that his endgame love interest is also a redhead, but also other things such as singing and nice titties, etc etc (all things Sansa has as well). There is also a “brunette swerve” with Val (he thinks she’s the most lovely when she’s described as a brunette) and Alys Karstark during ADWD, which fits the time Sansa spends parading as a brunette Alayne Stone in the Vale. In the case of Val, Jon appreciates her character strength in face of contrariety and unwilling to be subservient, which mirrors Sansa’s story as it’s being framed in season 8 (northern independence).

Jon doesn’t really think of Sansa much, which many think is narratively suspect (I agree!!). In specific in ADWD, Jon thinks of Sansa in two specific contexts. The first is to assert Winterfell belongs to her by birthright and the second is to oddly associate her with Ygritte for the first time. The latter is one reason why it’s narratively suspect that he doesn’t think of her, since Jon compares Ygritte being skinny with Arya, but it’s Sansa who resembles Ygritte since they share colouring, yet he only connects them at this point in a moment of despair.

ADWD #3 Jon #1: “By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.”

ADWD #17 Jon #4: Jon said, “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.”

ADWD #69 Jon #13: Of Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow.

In the specific case of Danerys burning Winterfell and killing someone that is mistaken for Sansa, the foreshadowing could be present in Ygritte references since about ~75% of them in ASOS after Jon leaves her would fit that plot device. The remaining ~25% also have the potential to fit since they could be details and motivations for the things he has done, but since there’s no way to tell (yet) I’ll leave those out and only reference major examples and add the rest if they happen later (there’s a cute one that may foreshadow Sansa taking care of Jon while he’s hurt, I want it so bad... :<).

A STORM OF SWORDS

ASOS #48 Jon #6: When the dreams took him, he found himself back home once more, splashing in the hot pools beneath a huge white weirwood that had his father’s face. Ygritte was with him, laughing at him, shedding her skins till she was naked as her name day, trying to kiss him, but he couldn’t, not with his father watching. He was the blood of Winterfell, a man of the Night’s Watch. I will not father a bastard, he told her. I will not. I will not. “You know nothing, Jon Snow,” she whispered, her skin dissolving in the hot water, the flesh beneath sloughing off her bones until only skull and skeleton remained, and the pool bubbled thick and red.

This could foreshadow a “fake” Sansa (Ygritte isn’t Sansa after all) being burned during the Battle against the Army of the Dead, which would happen in the godswood. In specific, slough is a verb that’s almost exclusively used for burning in ASOIAF (there is one exception, an undead!bear and even then this bear might the one that shows up earlier and got burned...).

ASOS #55 Jon #7: But he remembered the grotto best of all, the look of her naked in the torchlight, the taste of her mouth when it opened under his. Ygritte, stay away. Go south and raid, go hide in one of those roundtowers you liked so well. You’ll find nothing here but death.

This could be foreshadowing of Sansa leaving Winterfell in the middle of the battle against the Army of the Dead (not an isolated case) and taken south either willingly or unwillingly but also mistaken for dead up north in Winterfell. In specific, Sansa has a vast association with towers and she’s known for liking the southron architecture XD, which Ygritte also does apparently.

ASOS #55 Jon #7: He found Ygritte sprawled across a patch of old snow beneath the Lord Commander’s Tower, with an arrow between her breasts. The ice crystals had settled over her face, and in the moonlight it looked as though she wore a glittering silver mask. The arrow was black, Jon saw, but it was fletched with white duck feathers. Not mine, he told himself, not one of mine. But he felt as if it were. (...) He touched her hair. “You’re kissed by fire, remember? Lucky. It will take more than an arrow to kill you.”

This could foreshadow Jon finding someone dead that he mistakes for Sansa during the Battle against the Army of the Dead (ice on her face), after Danerys burned her with Drogon out of jealousy (black arrow to the heart). which would fill him with guilt. In specific, Ygritte is found beneath the Lord Commander’s Tower, which Jon accidentally burned to kill a wight. This would fit very well with Danerys’ vision at the House of Undying that could reference burning Winterfell with Drogon (”a stone beast flew from a smoking tower breathing shadow fire”) during the Battle against the Army of the Dead. It’s worth noting Burned Tower is NEXT to godswood, so this body could be found next to both places.

As a side-note, I was meant to finish this nonsense before season 8 began, but I was tired of writing the previous four posts, so this one stayed in the back burner (there are more posts, I write a lot XD). I’m completing it just after 8x2 aired and this is the status quo as of now. Jon convinced Danerys to fight against the Army of the Dead, but she’s both jealous of Sansa and angry at Jon after finding out he’s the rightful heir to the Iron Throne.

ASOS #64 Jon #8: He dreamt he was back in Winterfell, limping past the stone kings on their thrones. Their grey granite eyes turned to follow him as he passed, and their grey granite fingers tightened on the hilts of the rusted swords upon their laps. You are no Stark, he could hear them mutter, in heavy granite voices. There is no place for you here. Go away. He walked deeper into the darkness. “Father?” he called. “Bran? Rickon?” No one answered. A chill wind was blowing on his neck. “Uncle?” he called. “Uncle Benjen? Father? Please, Father, help me.” Up above he heard drums. They are feasting in the Great Hall, but I am not welcome there. I am no Stark, and this is not my place. His crutch slipped and he fell to his knees. The crypts were growing darker. A light has gone out somewhere. “Ygritte?” he whispered. “Forgive me. Please.” But it was only a direwolf, grey and ghastly, spotted with blood, his golden eyes shining sadly through the dark …

This could foreshadow Jon feeling guilty over fake Sansa’s death (”a direwolf spotted with blood”), while the Battle against the Army of the Dead is still raging (”a chill wind was blowing on his neck”). In specific on the latter, Theon has a “counter” dream where he’s feasting with the dead in that same Great Hall (don’t worry about Theon, what is dead may never die). Interestingly, after Jon has this dream and he’s trying to figure out what it means (lol, poor baby), a horn blows and Jon thinks it’s the Horn of Winter (rumoured to bring the Wall down, which would allow the Others to invade, as well as waking giants from the earth, which would probably mean animating all the dead Starks).

Much like the previous example, things are lining up rather well. Sam told Jon he’s not Ned Stark’s bastard but Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark’s trueborn son in Winterfell’s crypts (”You are no Stark.”), and he’s most likely having a silent identity crisis (”I am not welcome there. I am no Stark, and this is not my place.”). Alys Karstark was featured a lot in both episodes and that has added with the speculation that she’ll die and mistaken with Sansa (her hair colour was changed from books to show) and Karstark’s sigil is a sunburst (“a light has gone out somewhere″).

A DANCE WITH DRAGONS

Most of Ygritte mentions in ADWD are “irrelevant” for this subject. In broad strokes, they reference giants (if they’re meant to reference the “waking of giants” and these mean the dead Starks maybe the insistence means fake Sansa comes back from the dead, imagine all that glorious man pain eh...), comparing to other women (Melisandre and Val), remembering her when seeing random redheads (to push the reader to remember Ygritte when reading about Sansa’s red hair of course), then some interesting passages that may foreshadow something else. In specific, one two of them may foreshadow the Battle against the Army of the Dead.

ADWD #58 Jon #12: “Stand fast,” Jon Snow called. “Throw them back.” He stood atop the Wall, alone. “Flame,” he cried, “feed them flame,” but there was no one to pay heed.They are all gone. They have abandoned me. Burning shafts hissed upward, trailing tongues of fire. Scarecrow brothers tumbled down, black cloaks ablaze. “Snow,” an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. As the dead men reached the top of the Wall he sent them down to die again. He slew a greybeard and a beardless boy, a giant, a gaunt man with filed teeth, a girl with thick red hair. Too late he recognized Ygritte. She was gone as quick as she’d appeared. The world dissolved into a red mist. Jon stabbed and slashed and cut. He hacked down Donal Noye and gutted Deaf Dick Follard. Qhorin Halfhand stumbled to his knees, trying in vain to staunch the flow of blood from his neck. “I am the Lord of Winterfell,” Jon screamed. It was Robb before him now, his hair wet with melting snow. Longclaw took his head off. Then a gnarled hand seized Jon roughly by the shoulder. He whirled –

While Jon is dreaming he’s at the Wall fighting the undead, this can foreshadow the Battle against the Army of the Dead at Winterfell as well (“I am the Lord of Winterfell”), where he’ll have to face undead friends (including fake Sansa and Robb!) and Danerys will try to burn him (Scarecrow brothers tumbled down, black cloaks ablaze. “Snow,” an eagle cried.).

Much like the previous example, things are lining up rather well. Jon believes that he needs the dragons to defeat the undead and he has acquired Rhaegal as his personal mount (“his blade burned red in his fist”). Danerys is pissed off after Jon revealed that he’s Rhaegar Targaryan’s trueborn son, realising he has a claim to the Iron Throne.

ADWD #69 Jon #13: Jon flexed the fingers of his sword hand. The Night’s Watch takes no part. He closed his fist and opened it again. What you propose is nothing less than treason. He thought of Robb, with snowflakes melting in his hair. Kill the boy and let the man be born. He thought of Bran, clambering up a tower wall, agile as a monkey. Of Rickon’s breathless laughter. Of Sansa, brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird’s nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell – I want my bride back – I want my bride back – I want my bride back – “I think we had best change the plan,” Jon Snow said.

In this case, Jon thinks that going against Ramsay Bolton is treason, but then thinks of his family and directly associates Sansa with Ygritte for the first time (the fact that he never did before is narratively suspect), then changes his plans and decides to engage him, foolishly reveals his plans to the rest of the Night’s Watch and ends up dead. This can foreshadow Jon choosing his family and betraying Danerys for their sake, then ending up targeted.

This example wasn’t part of the original draft of this post, but I procrastinated and in this case it was worth it because the show’s clunky dialogue (”That’s treason.”) when Jon’s parentage reveal was done (the crypts, matching the foreshadowing of the last example of ASOS as well) make it relevant. In the books, Jon thinks it’s treason to go against Ramsay, while in the show, Jon thinks it’s treason to go against Danerys. The parallels between Ramsay and Danerys are actually quite vast (there’s a very good post about this, I even made an infographic, but I can’t find it) and in this case, they’re pretty much the same narrative too. Both Ramsay and Danerys have taken Winterfell away from the Starks and they’re threats to them.

ROS

Ros is a prostitute of renowned beauty in the brothel in Winterfell's outlying town. She has drawn the attention of the young nobles of Winterfell, including Theon Greyjoy who is a regular customer. Jon Snow once paid Ros for her time but explains he did not have sex with her because of a pang of conscience over the possibility of fathering a child who would be a bastard like him. She’s yet ANOTHER redhead (with great titties) which relates to Jon’s storyline.

Ros is a show-only character, but when Sam asks Jon to describe her, he says her hair was red and she had nice titties (a consistent man, I tell you), then when Sam makes the same question for Ygritte, he says that her hair was red. It’s difficult to grasp whether these redheads in Jon’s storyline are simply meant to foreshadow the future (Jon will love Sansa in the future) or they’re actually saying something about the past as well (he always loved her). It doesn’t really matter either way (IT MATTERS TO ME!), since the endgame is the same.

S03E06 - The Climb : Chaos is a Ladder

Regardless, Ros has an interesting death since it’s part of yet another redhead choo-choo train. Varys finds Littlefinger in the throne room and they discuss the Game of Thrones and how to win the Iron Throne (they even talk about the Tully sisters, both redheads). Littlefinger then announces that he thwarted Varys’ plan of giving Sansa to the Tyrells and reveals that he has given Ros to Joffrey to do what he wants. In particular, Littlefinger’s final stretch “Chaos is a Ladder” is put in the foreground with two scenes, the first Joffrey having killed Ros and the second with Sansa crying after realising she cannot escape King’s Landing after all. This could foreshadow Sansa’s fate during the Battle against the Army of the Dead. Danerys kills a fake Sansa by burning her with Drogon, but Sansa was actually kidnapped and taken south as a hostage instead.

Notice that both Joffrey is the usurper to Jon’s “real” claim (just like Danerys) and that Joffrey kills Ros the same way Ygritte died, plus the arrow is black and red (just like the colours of Danerys’ dragon Drogon). This crossbow (or one alike) has shown up once again for season 8, as Cersei tasks Bronn to go North to kill both Tyrion and Jaime with the crossbow that killed Tywin. It suggests that fake Sansa is killed by Danerys and she’s whisked away by Lannister betrayal (this latter one was also foreshadowed in Bran’s prophetic visions, as they include Roose Bolton killing Robb Stark after saying “the Lannisters send their regards”).

The directors have said that they are very careful with transition scenes and that they mean something, this may not be true for all of them, but this one is a strong candidate for two major reasons. The first, is that this is a redhead choo-choo train for some reason that is actually bigger than this as the two scenes that precede them also feature redheads and the following one does as well. The second is that this is Littlefinger’s infamous speech about climbing to power (the very name of this episode and what the wildlings are doing) and winning the Game of Thrones, obviously something important. So what are these scenes? Below, their transition matrix.

[31] The wildlings are climbing the Wall but it breaks.

[32] Loras and Sansa discuss their future marriage.

[33] Cersei and Tyrion discuss how Tywin arranged to break Loras and Sansa’s betrothal, by arranging Cersei to marry Loras and Tyrion to marry Sansa.

[34] Tyrion goes to Sansa’s room to explain how she’s no longer marrying Loras, but she’ll have to marry him instead.

[35] Varys finds Littlefinger in the throne room and they discuss the Game of Thrones.

[36] Littlefinger’s speech is in the foreground while Joffrey raises up after killing Ros with a crossbow.

[37] Littlefinger’s speech is in the foreground while Sansa watches the ships leaving King’s Landing, realising she’s a prisoner there still.

[38] The wildlings finish climbing the Wall.

The case of [31] and [38] is interesting because the wildlings are climbing the Wall, the name of this episode is The Climb, and Littlefinger gives his infamous speech about chaos being a ladder and that climbing it is all there is. There is a lot of climbing case and in the wildling’s case, it features Orell (eagle guy!), Jon and Ygritte... yes, a redhead.

The first scene is where the Wall accidentally breaks and a bunch of them die, leaving Jon and Ygritte hanging by their safety rope. Orell decides to cut this rope, but Jon manages to secure himself to the Wall and saves Ygritte. The two hug, while Jon glares at Orell (eagle guy), but then Ygritte leaves starts climbing up ahead of him. The second scene is the wildlings reaching on top of the Wall. Ygritte is the “first” to arrive and Jon follows her (hilariously, an eagle passes by as they stare up to the sky, so maybe Rhaegal will be involved). The two raise up and stare at the landscape, then they kiss.

It may foreshadow Danerys attacking both Jon and Sansa (Orell is the skinchanger that controls the black eagle that attacks Jon and he tries to cut their rope), then Sansa decides to go on ahead either willingly or unwillingly (Ygritte goes on ahead) and manages to hatch some plan to win the Game of Thrones (she’s the first to arrive, Sansa crying in King’s Landing directly follows Ygritte arriving at the top) and Jon follows her. I’ll maybe forgive the show for romanticising Jon x Ygritte so much if it actually goes exactly like this. Fuck yes, Sansa winning the Game of Thrones.

The case for [32], [33] and [34] is also interesting, because it’s the Lannisters attempt at solidifying their power through Sansa as Key of the North. There is plenty of speculation about what Cersei’s role in season 8 as well as Tyrion betraying his allies for Cersei (that conversation in season 7 between them that people never got to see).  ETA: Since Cersei sends Bronn to kill Tyrion in 8x1 and yet seems like he has a role to play yet, this panders to that speculation that Tyrion buys an extra-life by delivering Sansa to Cersei. As a side-note for fans of Lyanna’s feather, [31] is preceded by Tywin telling Oleanna that she will accept his plan of breaking the Loras and Sansa marriage to marry each with the Lannisters, threatening to name Loras to the Kingsguard if she doesn’t and picks up a feather, but she accepts the deal and breaks this feather.

In particular there are arguments that Loras Tyrell is actually a stand-in for Jon and interestingly, [31] Jon staring after Ygritte climbing the Wall transitions into a close-up of Loras’ rose pin (the winter rose symbolises Jon’s real parents, Rhaegar Targaryan and Lyanna Stark, therefore that he’s the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. In this case it could foreshadow a romance between Jon and Sansa, but then they are put in a position where they must marry others instead (if it’s literal, Cersei wishes to marry Jon to solidify her claim to the Iron Throne and Tyrion wishes to marry Sansa again to unite the North into Cersei’s hand, I read a theory about the kidnapping plot going exactly like this once).

[darrowsrising]

Hello darling! Character aesthetics ideas! IG characters edition 😊 Niobe and/or Thraxa Volga Lyria Diomedes au Raa If you’ve done any of these before I’m sorry I missed them, but I hope it helps!

Niobe au Telemanus

Red soil scorched in the afternoon sun. The smell of eucalyptus. The first cries of a newborn. Tā moko - the permanent marking of the face and body as traditionally practised by Māori. Crushing glass with your bare hand. Burnt toast. Battle cries. Purple velvet and gold accents. Death glares. Mama bear. Spilling red dye over white marble. The cold hands of revenge. Mauling someone’s face. Motherly smiles. Suturing a wound. Holding a child’s hand. Foxy grins. Rows of gleaming weapons. Jeweled staffs.The sound of violent winds at the sea. Shipwrecks. Soaring on gravBoots. Dragon scales. Gladiolus flowers. Bed time story-telling. The crackling of wood logs in the fire place. The tales of Vishnu, of Arthur, of the Nazarene. Secret stashes of jellybeans under the bed. Treading fingers through a red beard. Guarding secrets.Bits of gold leaf. Smiles lines. Raw power. The roar of engines. Protecting your own. Breaking fingers.

Lyria of Lagalos

Blood soup. Children playing at your feet. A pitViper preparing to strike. Being in the wrong place at the right time. Wanting to scream, but no one can hear. Biting from a bland, but expensive pastry. Hand me down combat boots. Needle wounds from trying to repair an old dress due to lack of concentration. Messy, unruly and uncombed red hair. Big soul, small body. Starving, but sharing the food with the small kids. Sunset in a safari. Windchimes in a storm. The rawness of your throat when after hours of crying. Falling on your knees into a blood puddle. Dirt under nails. Brilliant, rare smiles. Freckled cheeks. Fox hair on the couch. Investing in quality leather jackets. Abstaining from making any noise when your bones break or dislocate. Willow trees. Getting lost. Staying up all night to see your loved ones sleep. Tucking a child into bed. Packing a good punch. The power of quiet people. Finding safehaven during a sandstorm. Cheap, but meaningful jewelry. The soundless crack of your own heart breaking. Blisters and wounds. Investing in good quality leather jackets. Feeling weird in dresses. Fueling a pyre. A monument to grief. The anger coming from powerlessness. The stench of decay. Wild flowers. A fox rolling in fallen leaves.

Diomedes au Raa

The heir and the spare. Family, duty and then honour. Chinese dragons. Scarlet scales. Mirthless laughs. The samurai code. Lances. Minimalist decor. Mountain waterfalls. Fresh water. Decapitations. The cry of a hawk. Untimely death. A serpent bitng its own tail. Twin sais. Civil war. Blistered hands. Brittle bones. Kamikaze flights. Making rain with the blood of your enemies. Protecting your favorite sibling. Japanese gardens with orange trees full of bloosoms, pond with koi fish and bridges. The hot wind of the desert. The sweet sound of wind chimes in a breeze. Sulfurous lakes. Blood drips on wooden floors. Olympic Knight gear. The serious son. The smell of orange peel. Black and gold feathers. Battle braids. Terracotta soldiers. Paper walls. Clear streams of water. The soft pour of rain in a forest. Rare, genuine smiles. Numbness. The sounds of a koto (japanese instrument). Halberds. Equilibrium. 

Thank you for the asks! Hope these are ok! I’ll do Seraphina and Rhonna next. Much love! 💖

Howl on!

Astrea!

[sweusource]

ESSENTIAL STAR WARS LEGENDS/EXPANDED UNIVERSE BOOKS. 

Many people have asked for that, so I decided to do a list with the essential novels and comics of the EU/Legends. This is my personal opinion and I have a very bad memory too so I guess, I haven’t included many others, so if you think there’s a book or any other EU content that should be on this list too, please, just let me know and I’ll put them on this list.

Obviously, I haven’t read all the books of the EU and tbh I’m not a fan of anything related to Rise of the Empire era, prequels, and The Clone Wars. All my favorite content is from Rebellion Era and post-ROTJ.

Anyway, here it’s my list of the most important novels and comics of the EU.

The EU books are divided into different eras.

Before the Republic Era - 37,000 BBY to 25,000 BBY

Old Republic Era - 5000 BBY (years before the Battle of Yavin to 1000 BBY)

Rise of the Empire Era - 1000 BBY to 22 BBY

Clone Wars Era - 22 BBY to 19 BBY

Imperial Era - 19 BBY to 0 BBY

Rebellion Era - 0 BBY to 4 ABY (4 years after the Battle of Yavin)

New Republic Era - 5.5 ABY to 22 ABY

New Jedi Order Era - 24.5 ABY to 36 ABY

Legacy Era - 40 ABY to 139 ABY

BEFORE THE REPUBLIC ERA

Dawn of the Jedi: Into The Void   

Dawn of the Jedi 

Force Storm

The Prisoner of Bogan

Force War

OLD REPUBLIC ERA

Tales of the Jedi

The Golden Age of the Sith

The Fall of the Sith Empire

Ulic Qel-Droma and the Beast Wars of Onderon

The Saga of Nomi Sunrider

The Freedon Nadd Uprising

Dark Lords of the Sith

The Sith War

Redemption 

Crosscurrent 

 Knights of The Old Republic (Comics)

Crossroads

Commencement

Flashpoint 

Reunion

Days of Fear

Nights of Anger

Daze of Hate

Knights of Suffering

Vector

Exalted

Turnabout

Vindication

Prophet Motive

Faithful Execution

Dueling Ambitions

Masks

The Reaping

Destroyer

Demon 

War

The Old Republic Novels

Fatal Alliance

Deceived

Revan 

Annihilation

Knight Errant

Aflame

Deluge

Escape

Darth Bane Trilogy

Path of Destruction 

Rule of Two

Dynasty of Evil 

RISE OF THE EMPIRE ERA

Legacy of the Jedi 

Part 1 (chapter 1 onward) takes place during 89 BBY. 

Part 2, "Dooku and Qui-Gon Jinn" (chapter 7 onward) takes place during 76 BBY. 

Part 3 "Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi" (chapter 14 onward) takes place during 44 BBY. 

Part 4 "Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker" (chapter 20 onward) takes place during 22 BBY

Darth Plagueis 

 Jedi: The Dark Side

Jedi Apprentice

The Rising Force

The Dark Rival

The Hidden Past

The Mark of the Crown

The Defenders of the Dead

The Uncertain Path

The Captive Temple

The Day of Reckoning

The Fight for Truth

The Shattered Peace

The Deadly Hunter

The Evil Experiment

The Dangerous Rescue

The Ties That Bind

The Death of Hope

The Call to Vengeance

The Only Witness

The Threat Within

Secrets of the Jedi

The Rise and Fall of Darth Vader

Cloak of Deception

Episode I: The Phantom Menace (Novelization)

Republic

Prelude to Rebellion

Vow of Justice

Outlander

Emissaries to Malastare

Twilight

Infinity's End

The Hunt for Aurra Sing

Darkness

The Stark Hyperspace War

The Devaronian Version

Rite of Passage

Honor and Duty

The New Face of War

The Battle of Jabiim

Show of Force

Dreadnaughts of Rendili

Trackdown

Siege of Saleucami

Into the Unknown

Hidden Enemy

Jedi Quest

Path to Truth

The Way of the Apprentice

The Trail of the Jedi

The Dangerous Games

The Master of Disguise

The School of Fear

The Shadow Trap

The Moment of Truth

The Changing of the Guard

The False Peace

The Final Showdown

Outbound Flight 

The Approaching Storm

Episode II Attack of the Clones (Novelization)

The Cestus Deception

Jedi Trial

Episode III Revenge of the Sith  (Novelization)

Dark Lord: The Rise of Darth Vader

Kenobi

The Cestus Deception

Darth Vader and the Lost Command

Coruscant Nights

Mace Windu

Shaak Ti 

Aayla Secura  

Count Dooku 

Yoda

Darth Vader and the Ninth Assassin

Jedi 

Jedi Twilight

Street of Shadows

Patterns of Force

 The Last of the Jedi

The Desperate Mission

Dark Warning

Underworld

Death on Naboo

A Tangled Web

Return of the Dark Side

Secret Weapon

Against the Empire

Master of Deception

Reckoning

The Last Jedi 

Darth Vader and the Cry of Shadows

A New Hope: The Life of Luke Skywalker

Rebel Dawn

Death Star

The Han Solo Adventures

Han Solo at Stars' End

Han Solo's Revenge

Han Solo and the Lost Legacy

Dark Forces (Novellas)  

Soldier for the Empire

Rebel Agent

Jedi Knight

Han Solo Trilogy

The Paradise Snare 

The Hutt Gambit

Rebel Dawn

The Lando Calrissian Adventures

Lando Calrissian and the Mindharp of Sharu

Lando Calrissian and the Flamewind of Oseon

Lando Calrissian and the Starcave of ThonBoka

REBELLION ERA

Episode IV: A New Hope  (Novelization)

The Fight for Justice

Tales from the Mos Eisley Cantina

Scoundrels

Rebel Force 

Target

Hostage

Renegade

Firefight

Trapped

Uprising 

Allegiance 

Choices of One

Empire and Rebellion

Razor's Edge

Honor Among Thieves

Splinter of the Mind's Eye (The first Expanded Universe novel)

Episode V The Empire Strikes Back (Novelization)

Shadows of the Empire 

Mara Jade. By The Emperor’s Hand

Mara Jade: A Night on the Town

Tales from Jabba's Palace

Episode VI: Return of the Jedi (Novelization)

The Truce at Bakura

NEW REPUBLIC ERA

Jedi Prince

The Glove of Darth Vader

The Lost City of the Jedi

Zorba the Hutt's Revenge

Mission from Mount Yoda

Queen of the Empire

Prophets of the Dark Side

Tales from the New Republic

Luke Skywalker and the Shadows of Mindor 

X-Wing (Different eras and timelines) (from 6.5 ABY to 44  ABY)

Rogue Squadron

Wedge's Gamble

The Krytos Trap

The Bacta War

Wraith Squadron

Iron Fist

Solo Command

Isard's Revenge

Starfighters of Adumar

Mercy Kill

The Courtship of Princess Leia

Tatooine Ghost 

The Thrawn Trilogy (Novels and Comics)

Heir to the Empire

Dark Force Rising 

The Last Command

Dark Empire 

Vol I

Vol II

Empire’s End 

The Jedi Academy Trilogy 

Jedi Search

Dark Apprentice

Champions of the Force

I, Jedi

Children of the Jedi

Darksaber 

Planet of Twilight 

The Crystal Star

The Black Fleet Crisis Trilogy 

Before the Storm

Shield of Lies

Tyrant’s Test

The New Rebellion

The Corellian Trilogy 

Ambush at Corellia

Assault at Selonia

Showdown at Centerpoint

The Hand of Thrawn Duology

Specter of the Past

Vision of the Future

Union 

Judge's Call (Short Story)

Scourge

Junior Jedi Knights

The Golden Globe

Lyric's World

Promises

Anakin's Quest

Vader's Fortress

Kenobi's Blade

Survivor’s Quest

Young Jedi Knights

The Rise of the Shadow Academy

Heirs of the Force 

Shadow Academy

The Lost Ones

Lightsabers

Darkest Knight

Jedi Under Siege

The Fall of the Diversity Alliance

Shards of Alderaan

Diversity Alliance

Delusions of Grandeur

Jedi Bounty

The Emperor's Plague

Under Black Sun

Return to Ord Mantell

Trouble on Cloud City

Crisis at Crystal Reef

NEW JEDI ORDER ERA

The New Jedi Order (NJO)

Vector Prime

Dark Tide Duology (Onslaught and Ruin)

Agents of Chaos Duology (Hero's Trial and Jedi Eclipse)

Balance Point 

Recovery

Edge of Victory Duology (Conquest and Rebirth)

Star by Star

Dark Journey

Enemy Lines Duology (Rebel Dream and Rebel Stand)

Traitor

Destiny's Way

Ylesia

Force Heretic Trilogy (Remnant, Refugee and Reunion)

The Final Prophecy

The Unifying Force 

Dark Nest

The Joiner King

The Unseen Queen

The Swarm War

LEGACY ERA

Legacy Of The Force

Betrayal

Bloodlines

Tempest

Exile

Sacrifice

Inferno 

Fury 

Revelation 

Invincible

Fate Of The Jedi

Outcast 

Omen

Abyss 

Backlash

Allies

Vortex

Conviction

Ascension

Apocalypse

Crucible

Legacy (Comics) (50 Issues/10 Volumes)

Book I

Book II

Book III

[solheira]

        In fair Corona, where we lay our scene, where ancient grudge break to new mutiny.

Many years after King Herz Der Sonne’s death, his predecessor, King Leonardo, took the throne with Queen Arianna. Some time after that, the news that the Queen was expecting echoed through the kingdom and all rejoiced. Songs were sung and it seemed the sun shone brighter over the little kingdom because of it. However, not soon after had the heir-to-be been announced did the Queen’s failing health began to rapidly decline and the songs faded to silence.

Sadness gave light to desperation, and while the kingdom knew nothing of the magic hidden away under their feet, the king and his chosen council discussed the usage such power could provide.

One of his chosen advisers, a blacksmith named Xavier, recollected a story told to him in his youth about a girl so loved by the sun it shed a tear at her passing. This tear, supposedly, produced a flower rumored to possess the gift of life but had been stolen away by the Brethren of Darkness and was lost during the battle against them. The possibility it existed at all was low but that it was still around was even less.

The discussion went on for hours and none could come to an agreement. To use the flower meant to bring harm to Corona and none in attendance were willing to make the sacrifice. Although the king believed in tradition, he did not believe in the magic they supposedly protected. He allowed the believers their audience but no more than that. So, as things go, the king threw away the idea as just that, a fairy tale, and the conversation ended with no result. 

Later on, during a cool spring night, while King Leonardo sat by his wife’s bed he was visited by an enchantress. At first, King Leonardo was wary of the visitant but when the woman spoke of a way to save his wife he offered her a deal. “I’ll give you anything you desire: jewels, gold, riches; ask and it shall be yours.”

But the enchantress was not moved, “I do not have the magic to save that which is destined to be lost,” she spoke, “but there is a way.” 

She then opened her palms and light formed over it in the shape of a flower. “You are not the first to cry for a queen and you will not be the last. Even the sun cries for the fallen ---”

The apparition in her hand swirled and twisted, forming a ball representing the sun and then dripping into the palm of her hand. There, the flower bloomed into it’s former shape. “The miracle you seek lies in what has been told. Find the flower and you will find your cure.”

And then, she was gone.

King Leonardo turned to his Queen, brows pinched and sorrowful. Although he had not believed in magic as a form of salvation before the vision proved to be of another make entirely.  All he had been taught felt so real and the ramifications on acting on it were grave.

King Leonardo called upon his most trusted knights and sent them out in search of the flower in secret. Days became weeks and hope’s light was beginning to dim within the King. The queen was growing sicker and their loving child would soon perish with her. Just when King Leonardo was about to call the search fruitless the flower was found in the most humble of places. It was quickly brought to the castle, boiled in water and given to the queen to drink. Immediately the color returned to her cheeks and all was well.

The flower healed the queen and not long after a beautiful baby girl was born. She was named Chiara, and once again the kingdom was happy. In celebration, the kingdom let out thousands of floating paper lanterns into the sky. They thanked the sun for their good fortune and prayed for many good years to come.

What the kingdom didn’t know was that a woman named Gothel had been using the magic flower to keep herself young and beautiful for centuries. She was furious that they dared steal from her and began to plot her revenge.

Gothel knew that there was no way she could just walk in and demand the flower back. She heard it was used and more importantly that it was gone. However, there was a glimmer of hope for the old witch, as the child had been born with beautiful golden hair.

With that in mind, she began to sneak into the castle in the night to use the child for her own selfish reasons. Only she knew the true secret of the flower after all… to make the power work all you had to do, was sing a special song.

                                                          Flower gleam and glow                                                             Let your power shine                                                          Make the clock reverse                                                    Bring back what once was mine

Before the witch’s eyes, the princess’ hair would glow bright and true like the very sun. Each strand carried a portion of the magic, alleviating the witch of her aches and returning her youth. 

As time went on Gothel realized she needed a way to take some of the magic herself. Eventually the child would grow and there were far too many close encounters for her liking. So one night, while she sang her special song, she took a pair of scissors and snipped a lock of hair from the princess’ head.

But Alas! As soon as it was cut… the magic was gone and the hair turned brown.

The child awoke and cried startling the slumbering monarchs, for not only was her hair cut but he act had caused her pain as well. Gothel had to act fast and so, “If I can’t take the power in part I shall take the child as a whole.” Just like that, before the king and queen could even stand from their bed, she and Chiara… were gone.

The kingdom searched and searched but neither princess nor her captor were found. For far from the kingdom in a hidden cavern, up above in a tower, she raised the child as her own.

 Chiara — now named Rapunzel, was none the wiser of her origins or her birthright and grew into a beautiful, talented young woman. Gothel did her best to warn Rapunzel of the evils of the world, using that fear to keep her locked away where no one could find her. Her magic had to be protected, Gothel claimed, for the world is dark and cruel and cares little for girls in towers. But the walls of the tower couldn’t hide everything and Rapunzel grew up with a love for what she saw outside her window.

For the next eighteen years, on the day of her birth, the kingdom let out thousands of lanterns towards the sky in hopes their princess. From her tower, Rapunzel watched those lights dance across the sky, and an irrepressible need to venture out grew as the girl aged.

                                                                                                                          \`PART II FIN.