#watcher of the eternal flame

[returnofismasm]

Given how much of the immediate backstory to Dragon Age: Inquisition was found in Asunder and the Masked Empire, I think some people might be wondering if any of the short stories, anthologies, or comics are also "homework" for The Veilguard. Obviously, the game's not out yet, so I can't be 100% sure, but here's my best recommendations based on what we know about the characters (done in alphabetical order because why not).

Bellara: She's new! The Veil-jumpers are in a single issue of the Missing, but she's not any of the ones named there. They investigate magical disturbances around Arlathan forest, and that's kind of all we know.

Davrin: Also new! The reason he seems to have a juvenile griffon (or at least, why there's a griffon at all!) is covered in the events of the novel The Last Flight, but it's hard to say how much any of those specifics are relevant to Davrin.

Emmrich: Emmrich (and Manfred!) is in Down Among the Dead Men in Tevinter Nights, and another, The Eternal Flame released during a Dragon Age Day and archived on the wiki. We learn he's a senior member of the Mourn Watchers, somewhat eccentric, and capable of talking to the dead. Also he's got a last name, Volkarin, so that's neat. All of that seems pretty easy to catch people up on in-game. (Down Among the Dead Men is really good though).

Harding: Harding is in the Missing, accompanying Varric on his hunt for Solas. Her buddy-cop-comedy-ing it with Varric is apparent from the trailer. Her apparent magic powers are completely new though!

Lucanis: He and Neve probably have the most backstory in Tevinter Nights of the bunch. Lucanis's story is found in the Wigmaker Job and he's mentioned in Eight Little Talons, both in Tevinter Nights. A Dragon Age Day short story called the Wake seems to have implied that he died, so mayhaps he faked his death? To hopefully set some people at ease, even though he's advertised as "The Magekiller," the mages he's killing are Venatori, so it's all good. I doubt he'd have beef with Neve or Emmrich or a mage PC JUST because they're mages. Also he's got a last name, Dellamorte.

Neve: Neve has a last name too! It's Gallus. Neve is the viewpoint character of the Streets of Minrathous, where she stops a Venatori plot to unleash a giant sealed demon underneath Minrathous. Her story is very Noir-vibes in a fantasy setting. She's also in the Missing for an issue, where she meets Varric and Harding and they work together to help escaped slaves avoid recapture by the Venatori. The giant sealed demon business did feel very "preview of a boss battle" but who can say if it actually is.

Taash: Like with Bellara, Taash herself is new, but the Lords of Fortune have featured elsewhere. They're in a number of stories in Tevinter Nights, as well as in Dragon Age: Absolution. The group doesn't seem to have a formal role, they seem to be sort of "adventurers for hire." Side note though, Ataashi is Qunlat for dragon, so I wonder if that's where Taash got her name.

[rangerisms]

tag drop

[etanow]

Got some Abstragedy and various ML ramblings!!

Zooble doesn't care much for torturing and tricking humans or whatever the stigma around demons is, they're more aligned with the sin of sloth, manifesting with apathy and a blatant disregard for any 'duty' they might have to higher powers.

This means they aren't into the whole "human and blood sacrifice" stuff like other demons might be, so when a mysterious cult's summoning of an ancient power failed and the group summoned Zooble instead, you can only imagine how pissed they were. Not only from being ripped away from a Seinfeld marathon but also now having an innocent soul sacrificed in their name. Hell has paperwork, too much damn paperwork, and turning the bright soul over to eternal damnation like it was promised to felt like too much of a chore and such a waste of a soul. So instead Zooble told it to go haunt or whatever, just leave them be and they won't collect. She didn't like this idea much. Stuck as little more than a string of shadows with no name to remember, and nowhere to go, and the idea of haunting her family felt wrong.

So in the first few years, Gangle followed Zooble around as a distant shadow, not interacting much, simply watching the demon go about their business. Zooble didn't mind this. They got annoyed at first when she started getting curious and asking questions or starting up chats, but soon found her to be a decent conversation partner.

Gangle didn't know she could possess the mask she died in until Zooble showed her, even with the heavy emotions that the mask brought she missed being more than a watcher to the world. She can enter it freely, but can't exit it unless the mask breaks. There's something supernatural about the mask, the breaks never stick. The black silk ribbons originally were connected to the back as decorations. It's how Gangle got her new name, when she learned she could use the ribbons like limbs and Zooble started laughing at how gangly she looked. Gangle as a nickname stuck more than any other they gave her.

She cried when she held a pencil for the first time in a decade and now finds enjoyment in interacting with everything around, she's very touchy-feely. Goes absolutely crazy for bubble wrap.

Zooble can interact with Gangle when she's pure shadow and vice versa.

Zooble's allergic to holy water lol

Gangle worries about everything and overthinks a lot, being around Zooble helps with that as their presence does promote feelings of apathy.

Gangle is ambidextrous after learning how to write with flimsy hands. Zooble prefers writing with her shadowy hand.

Zooble can switch out parts but certainly has preferences based on fate, even if they don't know why. They change their parts out slowly rather than daily and will stick with some appendages for months or years at a time.

Gangle kissed Zooble first and then ran and hid for 4 months out of embarrassment even though Zooble very enthusiastically kissed her back. Zooble found her and the first thing she did was return the favor 💕

They didn't put a label on their relationship until much later, just fine being whatever felt right in the moment.

Gangle can't feel temperature anymore so doesn't mind Zooble's elevated body temperature or when they burst into flames.

Their arrangement works, but Zooble still feels like Gangle is missing out on the life that got stolen from them. They want to fix it. It took a while to hunt down someone with connections who might be able to help, it's how they made their way into C&A Laboratories- specifically in a research division focused on the study of souls; One of Caine's many domains. In exchange for services to find a way to sever the soul debt, they'd both participate in any research going on within the residency.

Jax is the one to fix Gangle's mask when it breaks when Caine isn't around. He teases her for it endlessly, sometimes throwing it at the shadow when she isn't paying attention only for it to stick to her and force her back in.

Jax and Zooble have an,, interesting agreement. Deals and trades are how he ended up in the same residency, and he's no stranger to twisting the words of their pacts for his own benefit, even to other lab resident's detriment.

[the-mother-of-lions]

they say we are what we are but we don't have to be i'm bad behavior, but I do it in the best way i'll be the watcher of the eternal flame i'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams

@animeolympics2024 day 3 - immortals (fall out boy) ↳ joe and cherry (sk8 the infinity)

[thedinanshiral]

Today is a fine day as any to rise the dead, but first we need to spell something out. We don't know enough about this intriguing necromancer from Nevarra so this one should be shorter.

So far we only have a couple of source materials, the story "Down among dead men" from Tevinter Nights, and the short story The Flame Eternal. And there's already some minor discrepancy between them. Emmrich's last name is Volkahrin in Tevinter Nights and Volkarin in The Flame Eternal. His short profile on the Dragon Age The Veilguard site only calls him by his first name, so until more information is revealed and the correct spelling of his name officially confirmed i'll use the original spelling, the first we got from Tevinter Nights.

Meet Emmrich Volkahrin, a Mortalitasi from Nevarra, member of the Mourn Watch, a seemingly delightful gentleman, described in his short profile as a well-meaning scholar.

Nevarra is a kingdom at the center of Thedas, south of Tevinter and north of the Waking Sea, famous mainly for two things: their unmatched tradition in dragon hunting and their reverence for the dead around which they've built much of their culture. While in most of the Andrastian lands the dead are cremated to avoid possession of the corpses by the spirits that may be drawn to cross the Veil by the array of emotions that usually follow death, Nevarrans do not; quite the contrary, they've built a Grand Necropolis across the ages where their dead are put to rest. Except not all the dead like to be put to rest so some may rise on occassion and wander about a bit. Most mages in Nevarra if not all are Mortalitasi, necromancers, and among them a special group called the Mourn Watch are in charge of taking care of the dead things that won't stay dead enough. They deal with possessions, early possessions, a number of oddities that arise in the deeper levels of the Necropolis, gathering information by making the dead speak again, and gods know what else. Their perception of the dead is different from anything we've seen in Thedas so far. It seems is common for them to even make use of those no longer living, and skeletal assistants or servants are a common sight near Mortalitasi mages.

So far we've learned of very few Nevarran Mortalitasi, and they all seem to be rather.. dry. Emmrich is the first one so far with a certain charm. He enjoys a nice cup of tea, has a skeleton assistant called Manfred, and he very naturally expresses a sincere excitement when knowledge is involved, be it when others express their curiosity or when there's a chance to learn something new. He's not just a necromancer on the clock, he's also a dedicated scholar. In The Flame Eternal he says to a fellow necromancer who's only interested in getting the job done quickly:

“What sort of passion drives one spirit above the rest? What tangle of thoughts and heart returned this soul?”.

He's not just doing a job, he's interested in understanding the motivations behind it, what drives the dead to act past their time. In Down among dead men his role is a small one, the story is actually about a guardsman name Audric Felhausen who after an attack by a possessed corpse during its funerary rites is sent to accompany a Watcher -Myrna, of the Mourn Watch- down into the Grand Necropolis to catch the running dead man, only to soon learn he's not quite alive himself anymore and the intrusive thoughts and memories of his love for books and architecture were indicative of his own new nature. Once the issue with the Pride-possessed deceassed noble is resolved they returned to Emmrich and decided Audric, who's still clinging to the world of the living for his love of books, takes a position at the Library.

In The Flame Eternal, we're introduced to a younger Emmrich Volkahrin, who alongside fellow necromancer Johanna Hezenkoss, was tasked to resolve the issue of a screaming skull. It turned out the wife of the decesased had recently passed and even in death the love endured and the skull simply wanted to rest by his beloved. When Johanna complains all the fuss the skull did was just for his dead wife, Emmrich responds “Oh, I don’t know (...) It would be rather fine to possess such an enduring affection."

In the few lines from him we've gotten so far i think he comes across as a kind and charming man, even if maybe a bit odd considering his line of work and how calm he seems about it. Seems he respects the dead too and doesn't just see them as mere tools.

Design wise, he's also very interesting. If he looks like Vincent Price, chances are it's intentional, but it hasn't been confirmed beyond casual mentions from one or two devs who've made that reference. We don't have a specific age for him but one can be estimated, as in the beginning of The Flame Eternal we're told those events occurred thirty years ago in 9:22 Dragon. Inquisition takes place in 9:42, Trespasser events happen in 9:44, and ten years after that we have The Veilguard, so curently they're in 9:54. Knowing this short story was published in 2021, it adds up that in Thedas it was 9:52, and if we presume Emmrich must have been at the very least 20 years old the youngest he could be is about 52. He could be even older, he certainly looks like he could be in his 60s already.

In his companion tarot card we see him in better detail. The skeleton up front may be Manfred, his assistant, and i find the little skeletons on the side the cutest things ever, like tiny puppets. I think that's the idea behind this card, actually, the necromancer rising the dead, his magic as the strings of the puppeteer that will decide how the puppet moves.

Many were suspicious of his right hand from the party's teased picture, because it looks off, red and just generally weird but as seen on his tarot card, that's actually a glove. That he wears rings over the glove must be a personal choice. And that's an interesting one if we look at his left hand and arm. More rings and bangles to last a lifetime. Is it just his style, or does all that jewelry serve a more specific purpose than adding to his looks? Maybe it's all enchanted, one certainly needs protection when dealing with the other side. Guess we'll know in the future.

We don't really know much else about him. Gameplay wise the reveal trailer gave us nothing, he's barely a little guy in the distance during the fight scene..

Yeah, that's Emmrich, chased down by the red lyrium darkswpan. No staff, no green necromancer sparks, no idea of what he might be like in combat yet.

In another piece of official art we see him alongside Manfred and i think Emmrich looks rather confident when facing the enemy here.

I suspect he's the confident and charming scholar type to whom said qualities occur so naturally he is not entirely aware of it or of the effect he has on those around him. Of course as a sholar and a necromancer he surely has a certain aura of that may be offputting to some as well. What little was hinted of him as a companion was in relation to his romance, a dev described it as "intimate and sensual".

Hopefully we'll get more details in the upcoming days. I'm curious to know more about all the new companions but him, specifically, i'm more curious about.

[eastern-lights]

So we all read Flame Eternal, right?

"30 years ago, in 9:22 Dragon", right?

Why did it just hit me like a truck to realize that Emmrich would have been between 20 and 30 years old? I had been imagining a seasoned mage using his vast experience to pacify a spirit like he presumably does every day, but this is a young lad! For all we know this is his first day on the Mourn Watch!

And the Mourn Watchers are the best of the damn best, our man is a prodigy.

And the reason he mostly ignores Johanna's jabs isn't that he's an experienced professional, unfazed by childish bullying, it might be because he's used to it.

And the famous

"It would be rather fine to posess such an enduring affection."

aren't the melancholy words of an older man who's had his heart broken several times, but those of a young man expecting to experience such devotion in the life to come! And judging by the fact that he would not find it until Rook 30 years later, it really brings a tear to my eye.

[solqrays]

obsessed with the idea that due to the flower valley wall being burnt down by joel, and the events that followed it, jimmy is afraid of fire, or more specifically he believes fire to be a root cause of their destruction, the dare to flare game with lava, the flower valley wall being burnt down, the fact that in empires and xornoth and everything- jimmy believes that fire is a bad omen to destruction and death, the prelude to the canary curse. (thats why in lim life, he knew he would be the first out, because of the fact that the bread bridge was destroyed). flash forward to double life, and jimmy is paired up with tango, a blazeborn with fire for hair. he's the reason they lost their first life and even if jimmy doesnt blame him for it he knows he wouldnt last long in this season. but when he meets tango and he feels like his world has been shifted upside down, because before fire reminded him of death and destruction, of unhappiness and eternal doom. now it reminds him of home, a sanctuary in the death game, he thinks he's finally safe from the eyes of the watchers and that perhaps, just perhaps fire could mean something more than a curse. but alas nothing ever seems to go his way as fire comes back again, messing with his life when scar comes back and burns the ranch- a physical reminder that fire will destroy everything that comes in the watcher's way of torturing jimmy. but little do they know how much the ranch and tango has affected him, when he walks up to tango who is in his rage, flaming hair and hands and everything, he knows rationally that he will get hurt, thanks to his avian heritage and his curse, but at that moment he finds himself not caring, he holds tango's hands, and even if the fire burns his own hands he finds himself not caring. because he was sick and tired of fire getting in the way of things he loved (with scott distancing him after the walls burnt down and then leaving him after he died and joel who used to be his loving and caring brother-in-law betraying him and after the grimlands explosion- forgetting him and turning into a cruel shadow of his former self)- but jimmy couldnt let that happen to him and tango's relationship. he wanted to break the phoenix's cycle, burning up and then reincarnating to lose a small part of himself. he couldnt let that happen and so when jimmy took tango's hands into his own, he wanted to change the watcher's plans, and to pay for that he died again, sooner than expected- but to him it didnt matter anymore, because he finally had someone who would be there for him. his relationship with fire was still shaky, not trusting it completely, but he knew he could trust tango, and he knew that he wouldnt hurt him or leave him be- and even when they returned to empires and jimmy was faced with the cruel remarks of the other emperors and their meaningless insults, he longed to be with tango, to be with his fire. sure he may not be doing the best on empires, but he had someone to live for, someone who would help him break free from the cold clasps of the watchers, and thats what mattered. no amount of fire would break this bond, for it was forged in the brightest flames of love and understanding.

[notapersob]

@mcythorrorgiftexchange

@turtlecase

Grian watcher god fae reference? Mayhaps?

I hope this is horror-y enough? Sorry I really struggled. Turns out this event collided with the last 3 weeks of college and I got super busy and struggled to come up with ideas. Thus drawing does have a short writing thing attached to it (under the cut) but I wrote it a year ago so I didn't wsnt to submit it for this event all by itself.

The writing thingy --->

Its neck snapped and cracked, contorting itself. The thing swiveled it's head around to stare at Scar. Six black wings tore out of its skin. They were covered in eyes. They all stared at him, glowing a dim violet.

"What a peculiar little thing you are" a voice echoed. It sent chills down his spine. He had never felt so small.

Scar could make out what resembled a human face but it looked wrong. It cracked when the thing moved, stitching itself back together. Scar wondered what was under the mask. He couldn't seem to look away, he wanted to know. Like a moth to a flame. Not realizing the danger till it was too late.

"What are you?" Scar tried to back away.

The creature trilled, it laughed at Scars ignorance. "That is of no importance to you,"

"But-"

"Hushhh, you've ran yourself into something you do not understand. What is your name?"

He wasn't sure how he should answer. "You may call me Scar"

"You're funny," it smiled. A talloned hand reached out. It's whole hand was covered in what looked to be a sort of mold. It was black like the sky. Where it warped a deep purple grew in place. The fingertips were sharp. They gently traced the scar across his lip, then moving to his hair. It was curious. Well, so was he.

"What can i call you?" Scar tread carefully. He may be curious but he would like to stay alive. Though, he heard stories where unfortunate humans became eternal servants to the fae they angered. But that's not the worst they can do. Maybe death would be a gift.

The hand left his hair, leaving it a mess. He pushed it out of his face. "Hmm, I dont know, why don't you choose"

"Oh" Scar was surprised. "Uhmm."

"Is something wrong" it's head tilted, or twisted. It was a little unnerving.

"Well, to be honest I wasn't expecting to still be alive, let alone have enough time to think of a good name to call you."

"I could change that" it smiled deviously, the glow of its many eyes flashing bright purple and dimming just as fast as they appeared.

"As much as I appreciate the offer, It would be preferable to avoid death for the time being." Scar laughed nervously. He racked his brain for a good name for his new... friend? He tapped his fingers nercoulsy together trying to think of anything… bread.. Butter.. Wheat.. Grain. Graaiin.. Grian. Grian? For the life of him he cant understand why bread was on his mind. He thought of food when he was nervous and right now a nice good loaf of bread might just make him forget he’s face to face with some sort of eldrige god or something. "Hmmm, does... Grian work?" Scar offered.

"Yes, I think that'll do" it said excitedly. "Gri-an.. gria-nnn, grian" it tested the sound of the name.

Scar laughed. "So are you a girl, a boy? Neither?"

"None, all. It changes, does that even matter? I am a being beyond your mortal rules."

"Cool ok" Scar whispered, wiping his hands on his dirt covered jeans.

The wind picked up. The purple leaves spun up in the air. Grian slowly lowered himself from where he was hovering. His wings folded inward. Scar thought he could hear bones snapping. Grian landed on the ground. They looked a lot smaller then they had before.

He now only had one set of wings with significantly fewer eyes. Scar looked at Grian's face. Where the white of the eyes should be, they were black. He had short golden brown hair, the longest unkempt strands reaching his shoulders. He was a whole head shorter than Scar. He used to stand at least seven feet tall. He was beautiful. His pointed ears were decorated with silvers and golds.

"I owe you now." Grian grabbed hold of Scars hand, all too eagerly. His grip stung, the humanoid bird not quite understanding what a normal amount of strength is. A bright ring of light surrounded the point where their hands joined. The white swirls landed on their arms creating a beautiful pattern. The light disappeared into his skin. He blinked his eyes, getting used to the dark again. The swirls left white marks on his arm, it looked like some sort of abstract tattoo.

"Whoa". He knew he should probably be concerned by what just happened but this was the most spectacular thing to ever happen to him.

[joeyclaire]

fall out boy lyrics that make me stare at the wall: an ongoing list

i wonder if your therapist knows everything about me

anything you say can and will be held against you so only say my name

and you can get what you want but it’s never enough

i’ll be the watcher of the eternal flame, i’ll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams / i am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass, i try to picture me without you but i can’t

my nine to five is cutting open old scars

free love on the streets but in the alley it ain’t that cheap

singing vows before we exchange smoke rings

i got a feeling inside that i can’t domesticate, it doesn’t wanna live in a cage, a feeling that i can’t housebreak

how the mighty fall in love

i only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me

i’m half-doomed and you’re semi-sweet

i’ll be as honest as you’ll let me

all those people in those old photographs i’ve seen are dead

when rome’s in ruins we are the lions free of the colosseums

in between being young and being right you were my versailles at night

i am the opposite of amnesia

i wish i’d known how much you loved me, i wish i cared enough to know / i’m sorry every song’s about you, the torture of small talk with someone you used to love

you are what you love not who loves you

you said “please don’t ever change” but you don’t like me the way i am

they say the captain goes down with the ship, so when the world ends, will god go down with it?

silent film stars stuck in talking cinema

i don’t just want to be a footnote in someone else’s happiness

the truth hurts worse than anything i could bring myself to do to you

[lumaverse]

Day 89 of drawing every @falloutboy song! This is a fun one! I remember watching Big Hero 6 when I was younger and feeling so incredibly happy that fob was in the movie. It only felt right to draw Baymax being the watcher of the eternal flame!

[where-theres-smoak-2]

Ok I am in rant mode again, sorry, this blog just happens to be a place where I dump all my thoughts negative and positive both, unfortunately for all who follow me. But I have seen some bad and incorrect takes from anti darkling/darklinas. So here’s just a few things I want to say.

Firstly LB has never stated that she based the darkling on her ab*sive ex. This is misinformation that was spread by antis. The only thing she has ever said about an ab*sive relationship was that she wrote the first book, Shadow and Bone, at a dark time in her life right after she had got out of a bad relationship. She has said in the past that the darkling was inspired by every bad boy she’s had a crush on in fiction including david bowie’s the goblin king. 

So it seems from these comments like the character was supposed to emulate those types of characters that woman find attractive, the ones you would fall for. 

I’ve also seen the argument that LB clearly wrote the darkling as a villain, well LB might disagree with you there as she herself has said on multiple occasions that she doesn’t write villains: 

LB says that the darkling believes he is doing the right thing and that ‘you can make a case for most of the choices he makes, even the despicable ones.’ So if LB says that she doesn’t write villains and that you can make a case for his actions you can’t really blame darkling fans for doing the same. 

The truth is LB promoted the heck out of both the darkling and darklina (or as it was known back then Darlina and Alarkling) when she was writing the og trilogy, even admitting to ‘fanning the flames’ when talking about people shipping m*lina and darklina and was clearly encouraging the shipping of both ships: 

She also put out teases for the darkling and darklina:

And promoted darklina fan edits even using the ship tags: 

It was only post the release of book three that she changed her tune, likely because of all the backlash she got about the ending of the books. So no LB wasn’t always against fans shipping darklina or liking the darkling. All of this information is easily found with a simple google search, I wasn’t even in the fandom back then being a show watcher first and yet I was still able to learn all of this with minimal difficulty. 

Which brings me to the whole darklina being an allegory for a older man manipulating a younger girl and how the darklina fans ‘missed this’. Well if they did miss it then it was for a very good reason, but the truth is darklina’s didn’t miss it, we just didn’t think it made sense within the narrative, the darklina fandom have talked about it, myself included, in fact I’ve already posted a whole pretty much essay on the topic. But let me explain why some people may have ‘missed it’ and why it doesn’t work in the story or with darklina as the allegory. The first is because LB chose to use an immortal/immortal couple for this allegory. The thing with immortality in fiction, especially as love interests, is it makes age pretty much meaningless. The whole point of immortals is that they are ageless. Immortal ships have always been accepted within fiction and this whole age gap issue has never come up before. Nobody was going omg but the age gap yuck with Bella and Edward when twilight came out, or when Magnus and Alec got together in Shadowhunters or with any of the ships in Vampire Diaries. Yet now anti’s are trying to use the argument that the darkling is 100s of years older than Alina and that’s creepy all of a sudden. Sorry but not in my book, an immortal is always going to be significantly older than anyone else what’s the alternative they spend eternity alone, never knowing love? At least with darklina they are both immortal. Another reason why it doesn’t work is because of how the darkling is described in the book, he is said to not look much older than Alina, so in the books he looks like a teenager. So of course people weren’t going to pick up on the older guy/younger girl allegory because the darkling isn’t presented in the books as an older guy. He’s described the same way every other immortal being in every YA book at that time was. It’s also worth noting that I am not sure if LB ever actually said that darklina were supposed to represent a older guy with a younger girl or whether that was something the fandom came up with. I’m not saying she didn’t just that I myself have never seen a direct quote from her that I recall and I wasn’t able to find one. I think the first time I heard of it was when someone sent me an ask about the topic. I know that she has said it was meant to serve as a warning of attractive and charismatic men being able to manipulate young girls but I don’t know that she herself has ever talked about an age gap or specifically mentioned older men? 

Another thing that I have been seeing alot of are comments like darkling/darklina fans only like him because he is hot. What bothers me about this is firstly even if that were true and the only reason people liked him was because he is hot, so what? There’s nothing wrong with that, its fiction and fiction is used to escape for a bit, its for enjoyment and entertainment, so if that enjoyment and entertainment comes in the form of staring at the hot guy irregardless of whether they are the hero or villain, let them be. Why are you criticising the way someone enjoys fiction? Sometimes a gal just wants to look at the hot guy. Secondly its just a really irrelevant argument because the darkling is not the only hot, charismatic character in the books or show. M*l is also described as being attractive and charismatic with no shortage of friends and girls, Nikolai is another character that fits that description, so by this argument the only reason M*l fans like him is because he is hot, and the only reason Nikolai fans like him is because he is hot. Thirdly its just plainly not true, whilst I am sure there may be some fans who only like him because he is hot, again nothing wrong with that, most fans like him for a variety of different reasons because he is an interesting and complicated character. As someone who spends a fair bit of time in the darkling/darklina tags the most common reason I have seen for fans liking him is because of his dedication to the grisha, his willingness to fight for the grisha something that he has dedicated 100′s of years of his life too. Personally I like Aleksander/the darkling because he has a sympathetic backstory, because he is fighting for the grisha and when seeing that they had no place to go where they could be free from fear he vowed to make them a safe place, a sanctuary, of course I am going to root for that goal too. I like him because he is complicated and complex and despite being an immortal being who has become deeply effected by past traumas there is still something beautifully human about him, particularly in the show. I also like the connection he has with Alina, the whole yin/yang of it and them being each others balance. I love the complexity and angst of them having this deep connection and pull to each other but also having this anger and sense of betrayal, how they have to try and navigate around having different points of view and seeing the world in a different ways, it makes for a very compelling story and their chemistry in the show is electric. The fact that he is hot is merely a bonus, but even if he wasn’t a conventionally attractive person I would still like his character because of those complexities, because of that connection he has with Alina. But one thing this rant has done is make me curious as to what my other fellow darkling/darklina fans like about the darkling? What drew you to the character? Anyway that’s enough ranting for one day, again my apologies, I am going to go and rewatch season 1 of shadow and bone in preparation for season 2′s release tomorrow...sheepishly shuffles off my soapbox, waving awkwardly.   

[emyn-arnens]

It’s spooky season! In honor of the season, I’ve put together a rec list of some of my favorite LOTR and Silm horror fics. So curl up with a warm drink, tuck in…and maybe leave the lights on. 😉 Please leave a kudos and comment if you enjoy!

A Hidden Hunt in Hollow Dells by Zdenka (T, Petty-dwarves, 100 words):

The Dwarves of the great cities tell tales of the Elvenfolk to frighten their children, but the Petty-Dwarves know the tales are true.

A Treatise on the Origin of Dragons by Piyo13 (T, Sauron, 2.9k):

"A Treatise on the Origin of Dragons, recorded by Mairon" In which Mairon conducts a scientific experiment, and Orcs aren't the only form of corrupted Elf to have ever graced Middle Earth.

autumn fruits with me prevail by Anonymous (T, Thranduil, ~200 words):

On his head he wore a crown of berries and red leaves, for the autumn was come again.

cold be sleep under stone by Feanoriel (NR, Ar-Pharazôn, ~600 words, character death):

Under the barrow, a dead man dreams.

consuming by simaetha (T, Khamûl & Sauron, 1k):

...For one of the hungry Houseless, if it is admitted to the friendship of the Living, may seek to eject the fëa from its body; and in the contest for mastery the body may be gravely injured, even if it be not wrested from its rightful inhabitant. Or the Houseless may plead for shelter, and if it is admitted, then it will seek to enslave its host and use both his will and his body for its own purposes. It is said that Sauron did these things, and taught his followers how to achieve them. - Laws and Customs Among the Eldar

Heed No Nightly Noises by Marta (M, 4.7k, Pippin, Merry, Barrow-wights, Lalia Took, and OMC, minor character death):

"The hobbits sprang to their feet in alarm, and ran to the western rim. They found that they were upon an island in the fog. Even as they looked out in dismay towards the setting sun, it sank before their eyes into a white sea, and a cold grey shadow sprang up in the East behind. The fog rolled up to the walls and rose above them, and as it mounted it bent over their heads until it became a roof: they were shut in a hall of mist whose central pillar was the standing stone. "They felt as if a trap was closing about them; but they did not quite lose heart. " (from The Lord of the Rings, "Fog on the Barrow-Downs")

lengthen the night and shorten the day by kimaracretak (G, Lalaith, ~100 words, character death):

Death cannot take Lalaith from the river.

nights so frozen by simaetha (G, Varda, Lúthien, and OCs, ~900 words):

Varda: Star-Queen, Kindler, Sublime, Ever-white. Every angel is terrifying. - Rilke

Nine Fingers by Prackspoor (G, Frodo & Sam & Merry & Pippin, 6.3k):

On their way home from Minas Tirith, the Hobbits have a strange encounter on the outskirts of the Barrow-downs...

only the sleep eternal / in an eternal night by simaetha (T, Shelob, ~700 words):

“The world is a terrible place,” you tell the small creature, kindly. 

The Snaring of Gorlim by Zdenka (T, Gorlim/Eilinel, 1.4k, character death):

Gorlim searches for Eilinel.

This Will I Do by amyfortuna (NR, Míriel Þerindë & Ungoliant, ~800 words, character death):

Míriel makes a deal with Ungoliant, and she'll see it through, no matter the sacrifice.

Too Bright for Mortal Lands by amyfortuna (T, Beren/Lúthien, Díor/Nimloth, 1k, character death):

"...The wise have said that the Silmaril hastened their end; for the flame of the beauty of Lúthien as she wore it was too bright for mortal lands."

Watcher Of/In the Woods by ncfan (T, Andreth, 2.4k):

"Outside, the world was changing." Andreth, in the time following the Dagor Bragollach.

With Both Hands by crackinthecup (T, Morgoth & Ungoliant, 1.5k):

“This is my domain, Dark One,” Ungoliant said, and her body was revealed in the light of Melkor’s gaze, dark and heavy and sagging, splayed across her webs like a hole through the fabric of the world. She dwarfed Melkor by her sheer size. “Our ties were broken long ago. You promised that I would feed to my heart’s content and beyond, yet I was hungry then, and I am hungry still. Begone! I owe you nothing.” It is said in the Silmarillion that Melkor went to Avathar to seek out Ungoliant and plot his revenge with her. This is the story of their meeting.

[brightlotusmoon]

They say we are what we are, but we don't have to be

I'm bad behavior but I do it in the best way

I'll be the watcher of the eternal flame

I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams

Oh, I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass

Oh, I try to picture me without you, but I can't

'Cause we could be immortals, immortals

Just not for long, for long

And live with me forever now, pull the blackout curtains down

Just not for long, for long

We could be immortals

Sometimes the only payoff for having any faith

Is when it's tested again and again every day

I'm still comparing your past to my future

It might be your wound, but they're my sutures

Oh, I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass

Oh, I try to picture me without you, but I can't

'Cause we could be immortals, immortals

Just not for long, for long

And live with me forever now, pull the blackout curtains down

Just not for long, for long

[camilbarnessss]

¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 15 》

The One-Eyed Prince and The Rogue Princess married. Secretly, but they did, even after all the schemes and plots of their families so they couldn't. The lovers made their own discreet plot as well, and it is working just fine. Daera understands their position, the causes of their harsh decisions. However, anyone who was wronged like Aemond so many times was, is going to feel some sort of hatred, wether it's subconsciously or consciously, towards the people who did it. That is a hard true. But, what Aemond ends up doing above the skies of Storm's End, out of rage, and eternal resentment...ultimately starts the domino effect that would lead to The Dance of the Dragons, which will mean the lost of his sanity...and his love.

《 The Invitation's Second Season 》

Masterlist

Warnings: constant swearing, references to sex, angst and grief, mentions of death, HIGHLY EXPLICIT DEATH, mentions of blood, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡

In Storm’s End, watchers on the castle walls saw distant blast of flame, and would hear shrieks cutting the thunders. Everyone that knew which dragons had taken off from Darren’s Defiance imagined the same: the two beasts were locked together, lightning crackling around them.

■ ■ ■

《 Calm before the storm that already thundered 》

Vhagar was five times the size of her foe, the hardened survivor of a hundred battles. If there was a fight, it could not have lasted long. Though we did see what happened between the dark clouds, and so we can attest that the Fight above Shipbreaker Bay lasted more than perhaps ten minutes. Too little time for ones, mayhap, but let us remember The Queen of All Dragons could’ve easily ended the confrontation within a snap; it was prince Lucerys and his great rider skills than bought him and his dragon more time of life.

Yet, Arrax’s few remaining members fell, broken, to be swallowed by the storm-lashed waters of the bay. A leg and half-tail of his washed up beneath the cliffs below Storm’s End just hours after his butchering, to make a feast for crabs and seagulls.

So many theories arose between whisperers, in the years to come. Some claim that Prince Lucerys’ corpse washed up as well, and tells us that Prince Aemond cut out his eyes and presented them to Lady Maris Baratheon on a bed of seaweed. We know that’s excessive, and very much a lie.

Some say Vhagar snatched Lucerys off his dragon’s back and swallowed him whole. We know ‘tis the true version. It has even been claimed that the prince survived his fall, swam to safety, but lost all memory of who he was, spending the rest of his days as a simpleminded fisherman. Gods be good.

We shall give all these tales the respect they deserve…which is to say, none. Lucerys Velaryon, the sweet boy we lived, laughed and fought with since the commence of this story, died with his dragon. Our brother was fourteen years of age. His body was never found, though we yet may see that.

With his death, the war of ravens and envoys and marriage pacts came to an end, and the war of fire and blood began in earnest. But we will wait for the narration of this war a little longer. Believe us: the longer we postpone it, the better for our hearts.

Now we are up to date, knowing what is happening on each of the different sides of our history. We saw Jace and Daera conquering The Vale, we saw Aemond's and Luke's experiences in Storm's End, we saw Rhaenyra along her Black Council, and we saw Daeron arriving to King's Landing.

Now, let us turn back to him.

The youngest son of King Viserys I and his second wife, Alicent Hightower, is now at moments in the Godswood of the castle.

The prince, who’s just days away from turning eight-and-ten, is seated on a bench made of fine stone. From here, he feels a cold breeze and looks up at the white round moon, lightly smiling to it from his distance. The night is a quiet one that has brought him to reflections and thoughts.

His eldest brother, Aegon, is King of the Seven Kingdoms, sits the Iron Throne and is the highest authority of all Westeros. His elder sister has two beautiful children and is with child again, serving as a perfect wife to her husband. His elder brother, Aemond, flies about the realm to gain support for their brother’s throne.

Daeron can’t help but to think that his family is the freaking best. It only takes a glance to realize it; look at what everyone’s up to! There are times that the young man whishes dearly that he had grown here instead of Oldtown. He’d know them better, and he wouldn’t have had to ride Tessarion always alone in the skies. “How would it have been?”, he dreams.

The boy doesn’t know his luck.

-Daeron!-, a voice suddenly calls him. The prince stops smiling at the moon and turns around his face with tranquility, blinking quietly.

Dowager Queen Alicent nears to him with nervous steps, looking around anxiously while approaching with quickness. All of her jewelry clinks as she walks.

-What are you doing out here?!-. The Queen whispers, raising her brows as she reached to him, standing in front of her youngest son, who just shrugged-. It is dark and cold out here, and you alone-. She raises her brows.

-It is fresh-, he shrugges again, gifting her a little smile. Alicent shakes her head briefly, looking around-. The Godswood is always a good place to think, mother, which is what I am doing, do not need to worry-. The prince speaks funnily, cocking his head while looking at her.

-You must be tired, from your flight, Daeron-. The Dowager Queen speaks along little sighs, lightly moving her arms at the sides of her body.

-Sort of-. The boy shrugges, once again, showing no distress at all on his eyes. He’s so different from his mother-. I realized…Aegon didn’t make a feast, as he said he would-. He notices, lightly narrowing his eyes towards her.

Alicent briefly presses her lips, raising her brows a little and beginning to nod.

-The King came to the realization that holding a banquet was not appropriate for the evening-. She attests, crossing her hands over her belly-. He found it best to…behold his wishes-, she showed a quick smile.

That was a lie. She hasn’t even seen Aegon since they were at The Iron Throne Hall and he declared a feast was to be taking place in The Red Keep. Truth be told, “the King” got drunk, forgot about his idea, and kept getting drunk.

-Ah, wise-. Daeron smiles, nodding. His mother nods in silence, starting to wonder where her eldest son may be now. She spent great time of the day in the High Sept, praying, so she wouldn’t know-. Mother-, he appears before her eyes again.

Alicent breathes in deeply, getting off her deep thoughts. Daeron blinks while looking at her, noticing the strong grip on her own hands and how tense her shoulders are. He wonders whether she’s cold or anxious.

-Care to sit with me?-, he proposes, leaning to the right, and making space for her on the bench.

-I rather stand-. His mother answered, preferring to have a clear sight of the whole garden itself, which is still lonely, only the two of them here-. Thank you, dearest-. She’s quick to add, glancing at him.

Daeron accepted her decision with no offense, but still kept the space for her. The prince breathes calmly through his nose staring at the moon once again. There is silent for some time, in which he got thoughtful, and she kept looking around.

-May I ask you something?-. The queen’s son questions, still looking at the white circle in the sky.

Alicent pressed her scrunched lips, immediately assuming that he’s to ask about the situation at presence. The war.

-You may, son-. She allowed after gulping, maintaining a serious expression.

Dowager Queen wonders what he’d ask. “What would happen to us if Rhaenyra steals my brother’s throne?”, “How are our defenses?”, “Why didn’t you fight back to Rhaenys and her dragon?”, “Will someone kill me and my siblings?”.

-Did my father suffer, mom?-. Daeron asked, blinking slowly. In that moment, Alicent became speechless, parting her ever-pressed lips. Haven’t expected that question at all, she looks down to him with eyes that started to show emotion-. Did he suffer much…before parting?-. He furrows his brows lightly, gulping.

There’s true worriness on her child’s eyes; he truly feels for the father that barely paid him any sort of attention. He is not resentful. He…truly is completely different from his brothers.

Alicent licks her lips, thinking of her words before speaking them, under the purple eyes of her Valyrian son.

-We did everything in our and the Gods’ power so that your father didn’t suffer-. Alicent answered with tones of sweet, sugar-coating King Viserys’ sickness-. We cared for him…until the very end-. She assured, gifting him a slow honest smirk.

When hearing so, Daeron sighed, forming a smile as well.

-I am glad-, he whispers-. I am thankful-. The prince looks to her with relieve-. I know he is too, mom…-. Daeron promised with gentleness, raising a hand, and holding one of his mother’s.

Alicent curves her brows, sniffing her nose. Her shoulders slouched and her lips smiled sadly to him. She looks at the boy with a troubled love, honestly not understanding how is it that he can be so good.

Feeling a great deal of easiness while being with her youngest child, Dowager Queen Alicent prayed for forgiveness from the gods, and then lied to him.

-He oft asked for you, your father-. Alicent softly says. She saw Daeron’s immediate surprise and how he instantly smiled. That made her to show her teeth.

-Did he?-, the young princeling asks, wide-eyed and smiley, wanting more than ever to had been here much much sooner.

-He did, many a time-. His mother whispers tenderly, gripping his hand, and caressing his white hair with other. Daeron sincerely smiles to her, lifting his blushed cheeks.

Alicent loves him.

-And did he also…?-

-You ought to sleep, my love-. The Queen interrupted him with a funny reproachful tone, raising her brows. The prince inevitably chuckles, standing up from the bench. She had to look up; all her children are taller than her.

-I shall then-. Daeron agrees, caressing her fingers. Alicent smiles softly to him, blinkless, appreciating his manly features yet all his soft-hearted gestures-. Good night, mom-. He leans forward, placing a sweet kiss on one of her cheeks.

While her son kisses her cheek, and she kisses back one of his, a part of Alicent starts to regret having sent him to bed, and whishes to keep chatting and feeling this kind of tranquility. But she’s also right; her son must rest.

-Sleep well-, she whispered, caressing his fingers with love.

-My queen!-. A startled voice called her from one second to another, Cole’s.

Mother and son both turned their heads with easiness. Still holding hands, Alicent has calm in her eyes and Daeron a little smile on his lips.

-Ser Criston-, the Queen greets him with raised brows. The knight looks highly relieved, walking into the Godswood.

-Worry not, my mother was not alone here-. The prince talks with a funny smile, starting to walk towards the stiff knight. From behind, still standing in front of the bench, her mother chuckles. The sound surprised her Sworn Protector-. Please see that my mom reaches her bedchambers safely, Ser-. He asks.

-I shall see it done, my prince-. Cole immediately agreed. Daeron winks an amused eye.

-Ser Criston-, he farewelled him with a respectful nod, smiling.

-My prince…-, the knight mumbled, nodding back to him.

After a last smile, Daeron left the Godswood. After her child left, Queen Alicent blinked many a time, and the smile on her face got erased. Feeling again her usual uneasiness, she gulped and breathed heavily.

She turns around and approaches to her Sworn Protector, who quickly walked towards hers as well, armored as always.

-Has something happened, Ser Criston?-. She asks distressedly.

-Nothing, Your Grace-. He quickly answered, standing firmly while looking at her-. I had been looking for you for a while, my Queen. Couldn’t find you-. The knight explained his former anguish.

When hearing no bad new, and the man’s worriness, the Queen sighed and closed her eyes for a few seconds, relieved but still stressed.

-I was at the Sept praying, Ser Criston-. Alicent informed, scratching her forehead and making her bracelets to jingle.

Cole pressed his lips, staring at her with his brown big eyes, which blinked two times with growing unquietness. He takes a step closer, making her to open her eyes when he suddenly whispered.

-I beg your pardon for my boldness, Your Majesty, but you should not be wandering alone, neither outside the castle gates nor at night-. He mumbled with shame but insistence, looking over her shoulder while talking.

-The Sept is safe-, Alicent shakes her head briefly, making her long curly red mane to bounce with her while a troubled smile.  

-…Yet these are not safe times, Your Grace-. The brown-haired knight murmured, this time looking down at her, with loosen brows and blinkless eyes.

Dowager Queen Alicent’s eyes started to became wary. She presses her lips, recalling the events that took place in the Dragonpit, where The Queen Who Never Was and her dragon Meleys broke the pit’s floors, rumbled roars of war, and nearly slashed their fury above all Alicent’s family, if it hadn’t been until a sudden change of heart from the Princess Rhaenys. Only her sudden mercy saved their lives, after attempting against them.

That’s when Alicent gulps, truly understanding his meanings. Cole stares at her with the same worried shame.

-I am your Sworn Protector, my Queen-. He recalled, justifying the advice he just gave her.

-You’re right-. Her airy and weary voice agreed with him, nodding-…you are-. She expanded her lips into a close sad grin.

Softly, Cole nods, lightly lifting the sides of his lips. She did the same and, with this, Queen and Sworn Protector gifted each other tiny but sincere smiles under the white light of the moon.

The redhead woman sighed through her nose, crossing her hands over her belly, and taking a last look around.

-Walk with me, Ser Criston-. She asks, beginning to walk calmly. Doubtlessly, he followed her by her side, as always.

They got into the castle, now walking among the great pale red walls of The Red Keep, having the light of multiple torches along their way.

Queen Alicent sighs, staring front.

-I wanted Daeron to come to King’s Landing not only to have the many dragons as possible with us, but to have him with us too-. She comments, briefly raising her brows under the listen of her guard-…Wanted to be able to see with mine own eyes that he was safe-, she mumbles, looking around as they walk.

Criston looks sideways at her for a second, silently moved by how she talks about her younger son. Seconds the, she sighed, highly heavily.

-Although, now that he is indeed here, I must confess a certain…uneasiness, regarding his safeness…-Alicent mumbles. Cole furrows his brows, looking at her-. I now doubt whether if The Red Keep is the best place to accomplish so-. She admitted, glancing at her feet for a second-. Wonder if it’s safe for any of us-, she quickly murmured, breathing with heaviness.

-The Keep is strong, Your Grace-. Criston is quick to assure and slow to agree with her, in this case. The Queen gulps, gently side-eyeing him while they walk-. So are our men at arms, our dragons and our defenses-. He firmly listed, sure of his words. He stares at her, closing his lips for a quick second-. And so are you, my Queen-. The knight added with confidence.

Alicent stops walking, looking at the floor. Ser Criston stopped too, standing straight and firmly. The Queen gulped, turning her head to look at him. She took a glance around, seeing that they were alone, and afterwards approached to steps closer to him.

Cole almost felt his heart bursting out from his chest.

-We deserve naught of this paranoia, Ser Criston-. The Queen murmured, shaking her head-. The Iron Throne by rights must pass to His Grace’s eldest trueborn son-, she insisted with wide eyes, opening her hands and moving them tightly.  

-As it has always been, Your Grace-. He quickly nods.

-Not to mention that it was my late husband’s desires, his own words! And…and his brother, Rhaenyra’s husband, no other than Daemon…we all know that one’s nature-. Alicent afflicts her throat with sincere fright. His eyes got cold when thinking of The Rogue Prince.

-Make no mistake, should Rhaenyra ever sit the Iron Throne, it will be Lord Flea Bottom who rules us-. Ser Criston mumbled with sourness, clenching his armored hands to the sides of his robust body.

-A king consort as cruel and unforgiving as Maegor ever was-. Queen Alicent whispered with bitterness. Criston hums, remembering the stories Aemond has read him of Maegor The Cruel, his Black Brides and his reigning years of terror-…Under his judgement, my father’s head will be the first cut off, I do not doubt it, but your Queen, myself, will soon follow-. She spoke with a low voice, constantly curving her brows.

-Your Grace-, he makes a disgusted worried face, scowling at her.

-Nor will their spare my children-. Alicent declared, gulping so strongly, and blinking with so much fright when saying it. Even the harsh Criston shivered when thinking of that-. Aegon and his brothers are the king’s trueborn sons, with a better claim to the throne than her brood of…plain-featured boys-. Even after Viserys’ death, she can’t find herself capable of saying the word “bastard” out loud, yet no still-. Daemon will find some pretext to put them all to death. Even Helaena and her little ones…-, she whispered, having fright on her eyes. Cole clenched his jaw-. One of her boys put out my Aemond’s eye, never forget, though he was a boy-. She remembers, speaking in whispers.

-He was a boy, aye, but the boy is the father to the man, and bastards are monstrous by nature-. Ser Criston didn’t have the Queen’s sensibility towards the word, and spoke it plainly and without shame. The redhead parted her lips, not stopping him-. Should the princess reign, Your Grace, Jacaerys Velaryon would rule after her; Seven save this realm if we seat a bastard on the Iron Throne-. He spoke bitterly, in whispers.

-And Daera Targaryen by his side-, The Queen whispered too with sourness. Criston pressed his lips harshly when hearing that name-. We can only expect the worst from that girl too, for she’s no different than her tribe-, she denied while shaking her head from one side to another-. What she did to those man in The Vale…butchered them whole…-, Alicent narrows her eyes, recalling that great fuss from those years.

-As her father did to our city as well-. Cole remembered when The Prince of The City took his Gold Cloaks and dismembered nearly half of the capital’s smallfolk, punishing thieves, offenders, rapists and all kinds of evildoers.

Alicent strongly clenches her teeth, approaching one step closer, and whispering even lower.

-And she did it again…when she was here…-, she informed. Criston opens his furrowed eyes bigly, listening closely-. Ash and bone were taken to Flea Bottom by the breeze, from the coast where her dragon always nests-. Alicent whispers, narrowing her eyes-. The same day that she arrived to court with a brain-stained dress and tears of red on her hair-. She pointed out, recalling.

Criston immediately remembers that day, and how she walked into the hall of the Iron Throne with a cocky smile, all bathed in blood. Moments later, her father, The Rogue Prince, was decapitating Ser Vaemond Velaryon.

Alicent gulps, remembering the detailed report that the master of whisperers and Lord Confessor, Lord Larys “Clubfoot” Strong, brought to her about the mine of ashes on Kalistrox’s nest, and the smallfolk that attested to have heard voices of despair pleading for mercy in the air.

-…A bastard and a madwoman ruling the Seven Kingdoms…-, Ser Criston’s murmur came with sourness and angriness whilst he shook his head-. Unforgiving-, he denied.

-It is not just that it cannot be, but that it is not what should-. Queen Alicent raises her brows, insistent-. That chair belongs to my son-, she places a hand on her chest, over her heart-…It always has. Viserys told it to me…long ago too-. She confessed, blinking slowly.

When that came to be said, Ser Criston grew confused, not understanding the “long ago”, for the King died just recently. Alicent opens her mouth, but closes it quickly when seeing a brown-skinned servant walking nearby.

The Queen and her Protector remained silent. The servant, carrying a lemon cake on her hands, bowed her head and quickly walked away, soon turning on a corner and going elsewhere.

Alicent licks her lips, and breathes in deeply, looking at him again.

-Your Grace-, he whispers and nods, listening to her.

-When I was pregnant with Helaena…Viserys told me about a dream of his, a dream that- well, a dream that he had when Queen Aemma was still alive-. She whispered, surprising the knight, for he thought about how long ago that was-. He dreamed of a son birthed to him, being crowned!-. Alicent curved her brows, speaking with passion. Ser Criston parted his lips, shocked-. My husband expressed to me how much he desired that to be truth, how he saw in that dream The Conqueror’s crown placed on his son’s head and his sword on his hand-. The Queen recalls as if it has been yesterday, as it has been moments ago, and not more than twenty years-…He said he wanted it…-, she murmured slowly, blinkless, remembering that night.

Ser Criston, speechless, watches her every move and listens to her every word. This just reassures everything they’re fighting for; he thinks.

-He told me on Aegon’s second nameday-. Alicent confessed, closing her eyes for a few moments. Criston opened his widely, instantly remembering those times, that night, that hunt in the Kingswood where Rhaenyra made a fuss out of her emotions, as always, drowning herself in a cup of water.

Cole parts his lips, taking the information in. Moments then, he speaks.

-Prince Aemond once told me about the dreams some Targaryen have…-, he recalls with a low voice, and she starts to nod-. If I’m not mistaking…Daenys the Dreamer dreamed Old Valyria’s doom-. The knight says, thoughtful.

-Which happened, eventually, within the years; Daenys’ dream was true-. Alicent quickly nods, raising her brows. He gulps; he has always been kind of fascinates -to not say intimidated- by the Targaryens and their history-. Viserys’ is too-. She thinly whispers, from the bottom of her heart. Her knight looks at her with big secure eyes.

-It will be, my Queen-. He nods under the crystal hazel gaze of hers-. I shall be by your side and your children’s, until my last breath, Your Grace-. Fiercely, he promised, never blinking.

Alicent curves her brows, and gulps. She appreciates it heartily, closing her eyes while nodding. The Queen sighs with distress, caressing her forehead, realizing just now that she had been sweating.

-I thank you, Ser Criston…-. A soft whisper left her lips. He nods with determination.

Dowager Queen Alicent gulps, and then starts to form a smile on her closed lips. A minute then, she opens her eyes, and looks at him.

-…Helaena is with child-, she informed with an easy mumble. Ser Criston instantly froze; any firm look on him faded away and his eyes immediately shined with surprise and happiness, his mouth went open.

Such expression from her serious guard made the Queen laugh openly, which she rarely does.

-Maester Orwyle says her course is three moons already-. Alicent whispered with great emotion.

Ser Criston took the liberty to laugh, curving his brows, and clenching his teeth with excitement and pride.

And, as they speak of Helaena, let us turn to her…

Queen Helaena’s handmaiden, Claudia, delivered a small-sized lemon cake to the Queen’s chambers when she asked her for that favor. Claudia recalled it was not a favor but a duty for her to obey her commands; Helaena pointed out that not when it was this late and she should be asleep.

Nevertheless, the kind Claudia had not trouble in bringing the dessert to her rooms. After thanking her, and gifting her a slice of the cake, Helaena took the pastry into her bedchambers, having a shining smile on her lips, showing all her teeth.

The Queen sliced two slices of cake. Now we find her kneeled on the bed and, in front of her, are her two children. The twins both excitedly see their mother handing them a slice of lemon cake for them to enjoy; she was giggling as she handed it to them.

-Happy name day…-, Helaena whispered with a glim of love on her purple eyes.

Jaehaerys was the first one to cheer, shrieking and immediately starting to eat. Jaehaera soon followed, taking a big bite of cake with a smile on her face. Kneeled and slouched in front of them, Helaena scrunched her nose into a smile and clapped excited.

The mother sees how her twins enjoy their dessert. The hour has grown late, indeed, but it seems that neither of them are sleepy. In the solitude and darkness of the bedchambers, Queen Helaena is happy to share this moment with her children, who are already a year now. Time flies…

While they eat calmly, the Queen sweetly pushed the twin’s heads with softness and neared them to her to place tender kisses on both their cheeks. She laughed so happily when feeling the kids kissing her too, leaving crumbs of cake on her pale skin.

After kissing their mother, they went on with their dessert.

-Oh-, Helaena giggles with sweetness, passing a thumb in Jaehaera’s lips to clean some crumbs-. Messy girl-, she whispered along funny chuckles.

-Um-, Jaehaera emits amusing sounds while her mother cleans her-. Daera-, a sudden babble left her lips.

In that moment, the white-haired woman froze, slowly getting away her hand from her girl.

-Yes-, she silly whispers.

-Daera-. ‘Twas Jaehaerys now who spoke.

-UH- Yes!!-. Their mother laughs, covering her mouth that smiled greatly.

Helaena blinks in shock, not believing that they had just named Daera; they haven’t seen her for days already, and still said her name for the first time, perfectly and- and she’s not here to listen.

Helaena feels her lips starting to tremble, and bitter tears coming up to her sudden sad eyes while she still smiles. The Queen feels her children miss their aunt. And for the love of whoever god that exists, she does too. Daera hasn’t left her mind nor heart since the last time she saw her. She just never leaves.

But now they’re apart, far away and completely oblivious to when they shall see each other again. These quarrel between their families, these stupid acts…

Helaena sobs weakly, closing her sad eyes while her lips curved down. She weeps Daera’s name, yearning and longing for her. What’s happening scares her so much, and what’s to come scares her even deeper. It is not worry about herself she worries; is about the ones she loves…the ones that are far in more danger.

“Daera, Daera, Daera…”

It seems that Helaena got so excited when Claudia brought her the lemon cake, that when she closed the door and walked to her twins with pure happiness, forgot to lock.

The doors are opened without notice, making the Queen to quickly turn around her head, still slouched on the bed. Entering to her chambers she found her King husband, arriving with weary steps, baggy eyes, long thin scarring wounds in his arms, and a great bulk on his pants.  

Helaena’s face instantly became paler than usual, and her throat afflicted. Her husband grumbles, delicately closing the doors of the bedchamber. He did lock.

-Come-, his hoarse voice fills the room. Her superior lip tremble, looking at his red tired eyes-. Come-, he did a soft hand gesture to her.

-‘Tis the children’s birthday-. She is quick to say, weakly and fearful, blinkless.

-Helaena, I said come-. The King raises his brows. He limped for a second, too drunk to keep a straight posture-. Come, come, come-. He tsks his tongue, hating she was so still.

-Not in front of them please-. The Queen wept with a shaky voice.

Impatient and chaotic, Aegon II growled with despair and shot out walking quickly towards the bed of the room. Queen Helaena gasped and fastly came down of it from the other side. The children’s father grunts, clashing his hands on the mattress with distress.

After rapidly glancing at the children, the Queen turned around and ran further from there; thus, he followed her and got away from the kids.

-When I tell you to come…!-, Aegon left the rest of his words in the air, spitting on the floor as he ran foolishly to her, nearly stumping.

Helaena breathes fastly, coming out to the balcony with fast steps and scared eyes. She looks everywhere within a second, clearly knowing she got no way out. When she looked down for a millisecond, she saw the spikes below Maegor’s Holdfast.

-…YOU COME!!-. Aegon reached her angrily, surprising her from behind, and grabbing her wrists with great strength.

Queen Helaena gasped airless when he touched her, nearly breaking her neck when she looked up as if she was burned in a pyre. She looked up, and yet what she saw wasn’t the moon nor the stars.

She saw a thousand hanging men of blue, red and green flowing blood.

She saw her mother standing on the shore of a lake.

She saw a white curly mane burning.

Aegon made Helaena to end on the floor, forcing her to sit, only to then crawl over her, pressing his manhood against her shaky closed legs. His queen cries with fear, eyes-closed, shaking her head while mumbling nonsenses.

-They dance…-. Helaena cries with a broken voice, suddenly gasping for air and opening her eyes. She finds Aegon on top of her; she feels his kisses on her neck and his hand searching for her womanhood-. N-no! No! No!-. She shrieks as an agonizing hart, wanting to crawl away from his touch.

-Ay no no no, Helaena, you- Just stay quiet, bitch-. Aegon tsks his tongue with so much annoyance, babbling out his words, keeping her wrists prisoners of his hands.

Helaena’s red throat pains while she cries endlessly, strongly closing her eyes while her tits are being licked and her skirt lifted. The Queen lets out a scared sob, now moveless. Her husband sighed with the smile of a fool, feeling her warm body.

With a hand, Aegon gets his cock out and taps it against his wife’s thighs, making her to squeal with great horror. She grunted a cry and nearly turned around to craw far from him, but he quickly let go of his member and grabbed both her hands again.

-No!-, a broken sob leaves the Queen’s itchy throat.

-I came here to fuck-. Aegon smiles charmingly, looking down at her with his red eyes-. Not to be suffocated by all this fucking weeping!-, he erased his smile and whispered right to her face with anger.

Helaena sobs, pressing her trembling lips, looking at her greatest nightmare talking above of her; he’s a demon paralyzing her.

-Your running away’s from me are at an end-. Aegon growls maniacally, violently pushing one of her legs, opening them. Helaena cries endlessly, shaking her head from side to side-. I am King now-, he whispers bitterly.

He harshly gripped her chin, squeezing it, and from a moment to another penetrated her dry womanhood within a second, completely entering it. The Queen let out a cry so hurted, afflicting her throat and showing her teeth with pain.

On the other hand, The King afflicted his throat with pleasure, and showed his teeth when he smiled madly.

-Oh, yeah-. He moans, thrusting into her time after time.

Unable to cry out loud due to the hand squeezing her mouth and chin, The Queen can’t but cry silently, moveless and speechless, only hoping for it to be over already.

-You…-, King Aegon II’s red eyes of madness stared right at hers. She’s now realizing that there’s blood under his left eye-. You are to serve me, sister-. He declared with a cough and a smile.

Helaena sobs terribly, feeling all of his violent thrusts, his violent grip. The Queen, weakly, could glance at her children for one quick second. She cried harder when finding them watching at them with parted lips; they’re no longer eating cake.

Queen Helaena weeps with great terror, closing her eyes strongly.

A thousand hanging men of blue, red and green flowing blood.

Her mother standing on the shore of a lake.

A white curly mane burning.

-They danc-…!-. Helaena whines while her husband moans with a smile, trying his best to ignore her and just enjoy of her body-. They dance with crooked shoes!-, a broken sob left her throat.

-SHUT IT!-. Done with her nonsense, King Aegon punched his Queen right in her head.

And so Helaena was plunged into temporary darkness; she found calm.

■ ■ ■

Be welcomed to The Neck.

The narrow isthmus that connects the North to the rest of Westeros.

We’re now right beyond the border of the riverlands; we’re now officially in the North. Winds have change, of course; the wind is colder and harsher, dry but at the same time it makes one’s forehead sweat.

The swamplands of the Neck are by far the largest in all of Westeros, making it a rather unique biome. During day you can appreciate deep green trees, a lot of moss everywhere, and frogs jumping all around. However, ‘tis nighttime now, and the moonlight is not enough to light the lushness at its best.

Jace, Daera and their dragons had flown as discreetly as possible between the clouds of the night, for they didn’t want anyone to see them; they succeeded. The princes and their dragons took place as deeply in the swamp as possible, away enough from any camp and small civilization they checked from the skies. After wandering above the woods for some time, they decided upon a clean spot clean of mud or subterranean caves -at least cleaner the other spots-.

To their better accommodation, they opened in the ground as many of the bedsheets they could. They left two apart to cover themselves when they went to sleep, and with the remaining made an improvised mattress, not royally thick but neither too thin. In a free-of-sheet spot they left in the middle, they lighted a modest fire with a gentle sigh from Vermax.

With their “camp” now established, the princes are lying in their improvised mattress of fur. Both Daera and Jace have their heads resting in their luggage, using them as pillows. Both of them also have their respective dragon right by their side, keeping them warmer and safer. Basically, they’re surrounded by their dragons, who’re also lying in the ground.

Jacaerys is nearly falling asleep, tenderly watched by Vermax, who’s face is resting by his, breathing calmly too. On the other side, Daera has a golden tall wall by her. Kalistrox head rests over a fallen tree whilst his tail is nearly reaching the shore of a lake that is far from them. You cannot even imagine how uncomfortable it was for him to land in the swamp, watching to not mess with any tree. Matters to say that the one he’s resting his chin in is one of three he accidentally threw with one of his horns.

The Rogue Princess, playing with the handles of both her sword and her new dagger, which both remain strapped to the belt on her waist, watches her dragon with dearness. She raises a hand; her sweet fingers and palm caress Kalistrox’s limbs, lightly scratching them. The Golden Ray sighed loudly and purred with gentleness, blinking slowly. His princess smiled quietly.

The dragon’s sound made prince Jacaerys to open his sleepy eyes within a second, for they took him out of his nearing sleep. He breathes in with tiredness, humming lowly and scratching his eyes.

-Ouh shit-, the princess turns her head to look at him-. Sorry, did I wake you up?-. She whispers with same, scrunching her nose.

-No no, I was just resting my eyes-. The prince answers with a kind smile, and a hoarse sleepy voice. His sister snorts a little laugh, curving his brows-. Hmmm…-, he sighs again, crossing his arms behind his head-. They still ought to eat-, he remembers.

-Uhum-, his wife nods, eyeing Kalistrox while still caressing him. Jace lifts his gaze towards the Golden Dragon, feeling that it is a fortress that he’s looking at, for the beast is so tall and thick. He gulped, having the greatest of respects for his siter’s dragon.

-…He’s growing by the second, I think-. Prince Jacaerys murmured after some moments of quietness. Not looking at him, Daera lifted her lips into a small prideful smile.

-He is-, she agrees, whispering while scratching his limbs.

-Does he still fits in the Pit?-. He questions with curiosity, narrowing his eyes.

-I think he still does, at least he did the last time-. Daera shrugges, cocking her head-. Barely-, she quickly pointed, lifting a finger.

-‘Tis no wonder to me-. Jace mumbles, watching at his impeccable golden scales. He presses a smile, caressing Vermax’s horn with slowness.

Daera looks at Kalistrox distanced face. Her dragon eyed back at her, which made her to smile, kindly lifting her lips as a mother to her child would when seeing him laugh. The dragon purrs and closes his eyes, at ease.

The princess keeps staring at him, slowly becoming thoughtful. Jace looks at her again, finding her purple eyes looking at the fire interestedly; she looks beautiful.

-Do you remember that time when we were in the Dragonmont, walking over Vermithor’s nest?-. Daera asks from a moment to another, turning his head to look at him.

-Yes-, Jace quickly answers with an easy tone, raising his brows-. The other day when Daemon dared us to walk into the cave, and you almost did?-. He narrows his eyes with a playful smile.

-Haha-, his sister cackles two times. Jace chuckles, curving his brows-. That day-, she nods-. Well, did you know that…? Ah-. The princess accommodates herself better, turning her body to face him completely. Jacaerys did the same, interested, trying to not fix his eyes on the beautiful curve her waist has when lying sideways.

-Why?-. He questions, speaking curiously.

-I almost did because I wanted to see him, to see if Kalistrox could already be larger than him-. The princess confessed with honesty. That surprised his brother, whose eyes shined.

-Vermithor is to be said the second largest-. He murmurs, thinking of Vhagar, who is the first-. Do you think it possible?-. Jace asks with great interest.

-All the dragonkeepers from both Dragonstone and King’s Landing keep telling me these last moons is how much Kalistrox has been growing!-. The Rogue Princess speaks with a passionate hope, nodding quickly-. Vermithor barely flies out of his cave, what-…what if Kalistrox is bigger?-. She whispered, narrowing her eyes while picturing it.

-Can you imagine?-. Jacaerys smiles mesmerized, with narrow eyes too. His sister smiled, gladden with his same enthusiasm-. So, you wanted to know…-, he mumbles as he nods, recalling that day again.

-I still do-. The princess corrected him. Her brother raised his brows with acceptance, and she sucked her inferior lip with funniness.

Jacaerys gives her a cheerful smile, giggling lowly while looking at her. Daera chuckles lightly, still sucking her lips when she took a look around them.

A thousand cricket sing near them, as a hundred frogs do too. The sound of a stream soothes their ears when there is silence, which there was, until the white-haired spoke again.

-‘Tis weirdly ugly here, don’t you think?-. She comments, studying the surroundings. Prince Jacaerys did the same, only that with a growing smile on his humid lips-. Still, the northmen have never been known for a taste on eye-lusty lands-, she shrugges.

-What are they known for?-. The prince asks with an amused calmed tone. His wife makes a pout with her lips, thinking for two seconds.

-Baela once said they’re too pretty and too serious-. Daera shrugged, and he started to laugh-. I guess that sums them up pretty well-, she laughs as well.

-We shall see-. Jace raised his brows; she looked at him with cocky eyes, humming lowly when thinking about the lord they’ll be meeting soon-. And as an opposite to your statement, sister, I must admit I find certain beauty in this land-. He admitted with no shame, gaining a funny curious face from her-. Knowing something or someone’s story makes them more dazzling, I’d dare to say-. Jace nodded to a side.

-Ouh!-. Daera raises her brows-. Oh well, then…-. The princess drags herself a little closer and takes more comfort on her position, opening her eyes wide and smiling hugely when exaggerating curiosity-. I’m all ears-, she said with a funny voice.

Her brother-husband lifted his blushing cheeks and laughed. He took the liberty to also get closer, which his wife stared at with calculating smiling eyes, quietly.

-Well, there’s no much to it-. Jacaerys smiles modestly. She snorts and he grinned, rolling his eyes blank for a second-. In ancient times, the Neck was ruled by the Marsh King of the crannogmen-. And so Jace uses his “studying voice”, that he always employs whether when reading, discussing politics or -a new addition- treating with lords and ladies about alliances. Daera raises her brows, listening with a smile-. They submitted to House Stark when Rickard Stark, King in the North, defeated the Marsh King and took his daughter as wife-. He tells.

-Romantic-, she mumbles. Jacaerys licks his lips within a smile, looking down for a second.

-The crannogmen have maintained their ancient allegiance to House Stark, though…well, contact between them and the outside world has faded away to almost nothing, in these past years-. He mumbles while cocking his head, speaking softly-. Maester Gerardys told me-, he added-. But yet I know that the Starks wouldn’t even dream with disengage The Neck from them-, Jacaerys denies.

-Why not?-, she asked with a tender whisper, loving how he knows and speaks his histories by heart.

-The Neck presents a formidable tactical obstacle to anyone planning to invade the North!-. Jace responded with obviousness, raising his brown brows. She giggles and nods with great interest-. Did you know this place was instrumental in holding off the Andals during the coming of the Andals six thousand years ago?-. He asks with bemusement, shaking his head.

-Now I do-, the princess nodded, and he scoffed with marvel, now nodding.

-But, however, it is not effective against…ha, airborne dragons-. The prince said with undeniable pride, eyeing the two beast that sleep by their side.

-Such realization lead King Torrhen Stark, the last King in the North, to his decision to bend the knee to Aegon the Conqueror during the Conquest-. Princess Daera spoke with cocky smile and tone, raising her brows. Her husband licked his lips while smiling, nodding-. I used to read that story with father nearly every night, back in Pentos-. She remembers.

-Ah-, Jace smiles to her, slowly nodding.

-Hum-, Daera lets out a cute chuckle, turning her head to look at the white moon above-. The Conquest…-, she whispers-. Well, we already have something to chat about with Lord Cregan-. Daera cheers funnily.

-Aye-. The prince laughs, cheering too-. And a lot more of things-, he added.

-Yes…-. The princess breathes in deeply while looking around, not knowing that her husband is forever staring at her-. The North may not be the fastest ally, due to its location, but they surely will be the worthiest-. Daera points out with honesty, blinkless for a few second. She hears him humming, agreeing with her-…You’re right-. She mumbled.

-About what?-, he questions with a soft voice.

-Something is more dazzling when knowing its history-. Daera said into a playful sweet tone, looking at the trees and the stars above.

Blinkless, Jacaerys lifts the sides of his lips into a thoughtful expression. While feeling Vermax’s near body keeping him warm, the prince soon speaks his mind again.

-May I ask something, then, about our history?-. He questions with politeness, making her to look at him again. Her purple eyes smiled.

­-Targaryen or Velaryon? I know many-, she proposes-. Wanna hear ‘bout King Aenys I and how I would give my live to have met him?-. Her face lit up with pride.

-…Us-. The Velaryon prince softly corrected her, barely moving his lips when whispering. Daera blinks bigly, only one time, staring at him with inevitable surprise-. I mean about…us…-, he whispered. And soon, she began to nod.

-You may-, she agreed.

-On our wedding night...why didn't you consummate with me?-. Jacaerys didn’t wait to ponder his question; Daera felt time froze. He’s blushing fastly-…Why didn't we?-, he murmurs.

-I…-, Daera blinks very slowly, finding the right words while beginning to shrug her shoulders-. I think that…I think that I never had thought about it before, honestly-. She has-. Good question-. She points at him.

-Uhum-, Jacaerys nods, patiently but presently waiting for an answer.

Daera presses her lips and sighs through her nose while staring at him. The answer is far from simple and yet it consists of an only word: Aemond.

-I guess I was heart-broken-. The princess Daera answered with a low tone, shrugging-. I was…besotted with another, you see…-

She still is.

-You have always been my brother-. Daera murmurs, lightly furrowing her brows. Jace watches her with attentive eyes and listening ears-. I always loved you as so-. She points out with a soft tone, nodding-. So, to have been turned into your wife, from a day to another, well…-. The princess sighs, opening her eyes big when she sighed with pure honesty-…I didn’t desire you-. She declared.

-Now you do?-. Jace’s question was automatic, asked within a second. Daera parted her lips, surprised. It was just then that the prince realized his thoughts had slipped out of his lips. He gulps, feeling heat reaching his cheeks.

Before speaking, the prince had been thinking about what took place in the Eyrie, between them. He thought about everything: Daera grabbing his jacket’s neck and pulling him closer to her; she purring at him, pushing down his shoulder so his mouth met her womanhood; she moaned with a smile and, while caressing his brown mane between her legs, called him a good boy.

Remembering all that apparently made the prince ask his question without much anticipation. But, accepting that he already did it, he moved on, and spoke again.

-Do you feel that I am…enough?-. He questions, narrowing his brown eyes. Nerves glim in them.

In that moment, sincere curiosity glammed on Daera’s purple orbs. The princess breathed in, accommodating her shoulders on their mattress; she got closer to him, blinkless under his gaze, which follows her every move.

She didn’t answer; but made another question herself.

-From the first day we were wed, and even days before that, I noticed that…-Daera narrowed her eyes, speaking firmly and curiously-…that you did want to consummate our marriage…-, the princess murmured.

They both recall that night. They had to sleep together, as the Seven dictate it must be done on a wedding night. They shared a bed, same blanket and same big pillow. She was drinking wine, jesting, joking, giggling all around; she was content…but she never touched him. And him…well, it seemed as Jace was starving even for a kiss on his cheek, or a caress on his hair, even a blow from her breath to his lips.

-You wanted to do it-. Daera points within a mumble, blinking slowly. She sees how his cheeks has gotten redder than before; he is not blinking, looking at her while nodding lightly-. And yet, you have always seen me only as your sister-. She says, recalling the feelings he used to have for Baela, their sister, not her. They’re faded now, since a long ago, but the question still rises-…Why was it so easy for you?-. The princess asked, confused.

Jacaerys breathed in through his nose, staring at her. The reflection of the fire flames dances in her confused face, in her curious violet eyes. Her long curly mane wiggles a little too, with the wind and Vermax’s breathing. After some seconds, the prince let a sigh out.

-Because I knew who I was getting wedded to-. The Heir to the Iron Throne answered with firmness, closing his eyes. In that moment, Daera grew even more confused, tilting her head to a side-. You are one of the most beautiful maidens of the realm, if not the most. Each lord -either paramount or vassal-, each steward, servant and knight speak of your beauty everywhere I go, anywhere I step into. There have been tourneys on your honor, men fighting for your favor and bless! Quarreling to just have you to look at them!-. Jacaerys speaks with admiration, narrowing his eyes.

Daera, bemused, listens with parted lips, which started to smile with surprise and flattery while looking at him. The princess scoffs while he talks, seeing the shine on his eyes, listening to the passion in his voice.

-I took as my wife the most precious and desired woman in the Seven Kingdoms-. Jace declared, straightening his shoulders whilst he talks, slowly taking seat in the mattress. She follows him with her eyes, having her head resting on one of her hands. He looked down at her, and stuttered, blinkless. Then he sighed; his shoulders fell-… I wanted to be up to the gift of owning that-. He confessed, simple but sincere, shrugging.

Warmly, Daera looks at him, curving her brows a little. That was shortly, for then she snorted with amusement.

-Oh-, she closed her eyes and widened a sarcastic smile on her lips-. So I am a responsibility for you, huh?-. Daera questioned with fun, laughing burlesque. Jace quickly furrows his brows, shaking his head with confusion-. Tell me, brother, is everything a duty for you?-. She tauntly asks, scrunching her nose.

-You are not following-. He fastly denied, firmly. Funnily, she pressed her smiling lips and nodded with gentleness, allowing him to speak again, thinking that she’d hear more of the same-. I see you as no trophy, I swear this to you-. The prince declared with a stiff lip, never stuttering nor blinking. His sister looks at him with eyes that slowly started to lose all glim of diversion-. I see you for what you are: someone there are no two of. I wanted to be enough for you-. Jace narrowed his eyes, slouching; his face got a little closer to hers, who’s staring at him with parted lips, shocked-…I still want to-. He confessed, true and honest.

The princess stares at him with reading eyes, analyzing every expression he makes. All are sincere and filled of dearness. He is speaking his truth, perhaps for the first time since the day they were wed.

-It’s not that is my responsibility to make you happy; I know you can very well achieve it on your own account-. Jace laughed a little, raising his brows. Shocked, Daera chuckles lightly too, curving her frown while looking at him at all moments. His brown eyes are dilatated-. It’s just that…you deserve that effort from me, it is the least- the least you deserve-. Jacaerys whispers as he touches his chest with his own warm hands, tapping his ten fingers over his heart, which is beating so fastly-. And as your husband -call it “duty”, if you so like- I want to give it to you; I want to make you happy-. The prince said with pure genuineness and openness.

Bemused, Daera lift she lifts the corner of her lips, curving her brows as well while looking at him with an inevitable tenderness, and surprise. “How not to feel this moved, this warmed?” She’s speechless, for he had never been so honest before, not like this. Not this…beautifully, in search of nothing more than acceptance from her.

Taking advantage of the tremendous loneliness of the swamp, the great distance from their home, and that he has already said too much, he sent all nerves to the Seven Hells…and leaned closer to his sacred wife.

-I lust for you, Daera…-. Jacaerys confessed with the sweetest of whispers, and the warmest of eyes. Daera gasped briefly, opening her lips, looking at him with pureness, and a light smile that began to thrive on her lips. He looks at them, breathing deeply-. I love you-, he murmured, a little weak now.

It is now that everything makes sense, that everything clicked in the princess’ mind. Jacaerys, her “fake” husband, had been slowly and silently falling in love with her…and it is just now that he’s having the guts to confess it, when they are at the other side of the world, in a cold swamp with their dragons.

-Oh…-, Daera sighed, raising a hand and placing it on his neck, caressing his brown hair with her tender fingers. He breathes deeply, always staring at her-. I love you too, Jace-. She warmly said, dragging her fingers to a side of his face to caress his burning cheek. He lightly raised his brows, lost on her purple loving eyes-…I always have…-, the princess whispered, honest.

Jace scoffed, with a happiness and nerves that he couldn’t hide very well. He bit the inner of his cheeks, sucked his inferior lips, and looked down whilst trying to hide a smile, chewing it. That expression remembered her of Rhaenyra. Daera leaned her head to a side and looked at him with a dear grin, feeling how warm his cheeks are.

-Oh, for the gods’ sake…-. Daera whispers, narrowing her eyes. She is so moved; she is so happy he has told her this. Why? Why is she? How does she exactly feel about this? Why doesn’t it bother her, as their whole marriage once did?

-I know that we married off for duty, but…-. Jace speaks, looking up again. He takes both her hands, resting his chin in them. Daera snorts a cute laugh, wrinkling the sides of her eyes-. But…!-, he laughs too, caressing her fingers-…I have learned so much from you, Daera; you have taught me so much-. He declares, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes-. I only ever want your best-. Jace whispers with softness.

-And I yours, my prince…-. Daera murmured with the same tenderness as him, feeling the soft caresses on her fingers.

Jace smiled to her, not showing his teeth. Moments then, that smile slowly started to fade away, which confused her.

-What is it?-. She whispers, holding his hands tighter. He smiles lightly again, looking up at her, then gulping, then fading his smile again.

-I also wanted to ask about…about Aemond-. Jace spoke, inevitably uncomfortable, pressing his lips.

When Daera heard his name, her body froze. She didn’t see it -thank the gods she didn’t- but when Aemond was named, her eyes flickered, and afterwards they blinked with what appeared to be shame, and embarrassment. Jace did notice it, gulping.

-Can I ask?-. With honesty, the prince asked for permission, patiently. His wife looked down with sad eyes, not wanting him to see the glum in her pupils, but he is. After some silent seconds, she starts to nod, allowing him to continue.

This is the first time they have said The One-Eyed Prince’s name between them, since they got married. He had faded to Daera’s past, until now.

-It has been a year already, I think, or nearly a year-. Jacaerys mumbles, starting to caress her fingers again. She gulps strongly, thinking of Aemond and all the- the wrongs he has done to her-. Do you…do you think this was the right decision?-. And so, Jace asked with no restriction. Her lips almost trembled in that moment, looking at him with them pressed-. Us?-, he whispered.

Slowly, Daera takes her hands away from his, taking seat in front of him while crossing her arms on her chest. The prince gulps, patient. Daera looks down, feeling a great lump on her throat, and a thousand knives on her heart.

She imagines a reality where she had never really been with Aemond; one where she would have married Jace, with heart and desire, not convenience and politics. A reality where he had never followed her into Flea Bottom, nor to that alley either. A reality where she had never seduced him first, nor defended his violence and cruelty. A reality where she…had never lied to her family and dear ones.

If that were her reality, she would have saved herself from so much pain, dilemmas, arguments and fights with her family. She would have saved herself from so many tragedies. As soon as she heard of the usurpation of the Iron Throne, she and her dragon would have flown to King's Landing and would have burned them all.

When hearing Jace’s question, Daera’s head thought by its own, not sugar-coating anything. It thought this: Everything would be easier if she wasn’t in love with prince Aemond Targaryen.

To think that hurted her so much, her chest ached. Daera gulps and shakes her head from side to side, whilst her husband waits for an answer.

She smiles tinyly, looking at him.

-Had I continued walking down with Aemond…-, her eyes flickered for a second-…I’d be lost…-, she confessed within a whisper.

What hurted the most was that it is no lie, that it is no “if”. Daera Targaryen has been lost since she fell in love with Aemond Targaryen. How expensive that’s going to cost her.

-You…-, Daera takes Jace’s hands again, firmer than ever. Blinkless, he looks at her with determination and love. She gulps, wanting to cry, but not succumbing herself to it-. You are my right decision, Jace-. The princess declared with a stiff voice, looking into his brown eyes.

-Oh!-. In that moment, the prince breathed out with a huge smile, and a relieved expression. She gulps again and starts to smile as well, pampering his fingers with soft caresses-. I- I am glad to hear that-. He stutters. Daera softens her eyes, sighing while looking at him-. I was always afraid to ask; I was afraid you…you resented me-. He admitted, pressing his lips with embarrassment.

-What?-, she parts her lips, opening her eyes big.

-Hence why you- why you never slept with me-. Jacaerys stutters and shrugges, being honest with her.

-That’s not true-. Daera is quick to deny, shaking her head. She holds his hands stronger, nearing them to her chest. The brown-haired prince looks at her with heart-eyes, listening closely-. I would never, never resent you on Aemond’s behalf-. She promised with firmness-. I am not cruel…or stupid enough to do that-. Daera rolled her eyes.

Jacaerys showed his teeth, laughing tenderly. Unable to don’t too, Daera sighed and chuckled with him, closing her eyes. As soon as she did it, she saw Aemond’s face, so quickly opened them again, gulping.

Daera looks down, pressing her lips with a thoughtful gaze, under Jace’s loving one. Moments then, she breathed in and started to stand up. He quickly did so too, looking around and then at her again.

-They haven’t dined yet-. The princess spoke with a soft tone, staring at her golden awaked dragon. Jace quickly eyes Vermax, who purred, looking back at him.

-You’re right-. The prince nods, now tending all his attention to his dragon.

Daera blinks slowly, caressing Kalistrox while breathing in. She got lost on her mind, until he called her.

-Daera-, Jace named. When she turned around, got surprised when seeing him already on his saddle, ready to take flight-. Join me…-, his voice is tender and his smile a happy one, cocking his head towards the sky.

She smiles softly, looking at his brown eyes.

-I shall join you, in a minute-. The princess said-. You go ahead. I will put off the fire first-. She says, pointing at the flames with her purple eyes.

Narrowing his eyes with that smile still on his lips, Jacaerys nodded towards her, smitten.

-Sōves, Vermax-. The prince commanded him to fly with a soft mumble, patting his neck.

Within the seconds, the green dragon of yellow eyes took off from the woods, easily dodging the trees on his way, for he has the perfect size for it. Soon enough, the prince and his dragon were in the sky, looking for a proper supper for the majestic beast.

When she was left alone with her dragon, the princess Daera blinks in silence. Her eyes got lost in the humid mud, her hands on her abdomen.

Looking at the ground, she thinks of Aemond.

It feels the last time she saw him was ages ago, and it was far from a pleasing encounter. “Where do we stand now?”, she asks herself, worried and inevitably angry. He has been doing so bad, acting accord his family’s whishes and not taking hers in mind. What she said to Rhaenys before parting off Dragonstone is true; she wants to punish Aemond for his sick doings, for placing a rapist on the throne. She will, but…when? When are they to see each other again? Where, how? Is she to fly to Lovers Island and expect for him to go too? She cannot. What would they say to each other? Would he kiss her? Would he ask for forgiveness as soon as he sees her purple eyes again? Those that have always give him love and understanding. How could he have betrayed them? When will he be sorry for it? Because he will. She’s sure.

Caressing her belly, she thinks of Alyssa.

How is it that, in this world, things go on so quickly? One day she used to not see herself as a mother, then she wanted nothing but a child product of her love with her husband, then they agreed on it, the next day her husband made her to drink away that child. “How could it be?”. Daera dreamed, and lost her dream so fastly in the bat of a lash, the blink of an eye, the breaking of a heart. A babe was supposed to thrive on her royal belly, but it didn’t; perhaps the gods wanted so. “Fuck you gods then, and give me my child”, the princess cursed in her mind. Alyssa was conceived in Lovers’ Island. And the very next day, in that very same place, she was taken away.

Daera curves her brows, pressing her lips while she thinks in all of that. Feeling her deep sadness, and turning his head to look at her glum eyes, Kalistrox purred with sweetness, looking to comfort her.

-Please, don’t…-. His rider sighed with a tired voice when she heard him. The Golden Ray still purrs, lightly, as down as her. Daera shakes her head, squeezing her belly with her fingers-. You’ll make me cry, dearest…-, she said with unquietness, sniffing her nose, and forcing herself to draw her hands away from her belly-. I will not-, she declared.

He blinked slowly, looking at her. Daera straightens her shoulders, and blinks a few times; then she glanced at him.

-Jikãgon jurnegon syt issa (Go for your supper)-. The princess ordered raising her brows. Kalistrox growls lowly, eyeing the sky for a second and then at her-. Go!-, Daera pressed her lips when seeing him slowly standing up from the muddy ground. The golden dragon carefully lifts his wings, shaking his neck with a little doubt on his gaze-. You’re hungry-, she whispered.

After another low growl, Kalistrox opened his wings as big as possible, crawling a little away from there. Daera walks backwards with no hurry, stepping away from his thick tail. She crosses her hand over her belly, seeing him shaking his neck again with unquietness while looking at the multiple trees.

Moments then, The Golden Ray took off with one big flap from his wings, which lifted him up in the air within a second. His paw kicked the tall pines when flying across them. They wiggled like crazy. Their wood and sticks cracked, making the princess to look up with carefulness, watching that nothing fell on her.

Having learned from his difficult landing from before, Kalistrox took off with skilled maneuvers. He zig-zagged, as he has watched Caraxes do; no tree fell, and he headed towards the grey clouds while roaring out with sharpness and freedom, quickly getting away from the humidity. Inevitably, his rider looked up at him while siding a small smile.

-Smart boy-, she whispered to him along a little chuckle.

Daera is now by herself in this ugly, lush and lonely swamp. The princess looks down at the fire that still burns in the middle of the furs. While looking at it, the princess’ ears catch the sound of a nearby stream.

She made a pout with her lips, grabbed an empty jar they had use for their supper, and followed that sound with easy-going steps.

While walking, the princess thinks of how beautiful Lovers Island is. When the sun is not blessing it, a clear moon is. The sand is always white and warm, the waters fresh and sound. A kind breeze always blows softly towards their handmade hut, and in there their home is always waiting for them.

Daera tried to picture all that, but here, in this swamp. Many would think that it wouldn’t be the same at all, but the princess thinks it would be the very same. Lovers Island is beautiful, but its meaning does not fall on its beaches, sun and sand; but in the lovers that live there. This could very well be Lovers Swamp with no problem.

After chasing away a couple of curious frogs with her hands, Daera soon arrived at the place where that sound she followed came from. She arrives to a small river almost entirely covered by fog. In here are less crickets than in the other place, so it is quieter.

The princess keeps walking, grabbing the jar in one hand, and her own fingers in the other. She plans to take some water from the river, to go and kill off the fire, and then join Vermax and Jace in the skies. A flight would make her good right now, to be honest; she has a lot of stress to free.

But, postponing her task for a while, Daera stopped walking at the very shore of the river, and remained moveless. A cold breeze blows her dress and her curly mane, making it to bounce on her back. Her arms are loose to the sides of her body, applying no force. The fog in front of her gets sad when seeing her sad face.

Lighted by the cold white of the moon, Daera’s sleepless purple eyes stare at the nothingness while she gulps and presses her dry lips. Her gaze is lost, thoughtful, tired, sad and in the water.

They joy of having won three houses to their side in the half of a day remains in her with honesty; she’d never forget Jacaerys’ hopeful eyes every time that a lord or lady said yes to them. However, great part of her knows that they shouldn’t be even doing this. They are taking the bother to go house by house, knocking their doors and pleading for their support. “Who are they?” “Who are we?”.

Daera thinks how she and her husband have been going around the realm, like fucking beggars, having to give things in exchange to convince the Houses to fight and advocate by their side. It is ridiculous, to say the least! It its demeaning and degrading to go as so…

As future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Daera understand that exchanges, accords and betrothals are of great essence for the Iron Throne to keep good relations between the crown and its subjects. But we’re talking about war here, for the fuck’s sakes, not some feast or tourney, or wedding. Everyone should fight for the Blacks by law.

But no, here they are. They’ve licked Lady Jeyne Arryn’s cunt, given away Joffrey’s hand in marriage. The Houses are taking them as fools, it seems. And as the day goes by, Daera has been growing bitter and more bitter about it, not liking it one bit.

We are Targaryens.

The sound of a branch being stepped on brings the princess out of her thoughts. She blinks, still. Within seconds, two more branches crack, and then she detects the sound of footsteps in the mud.

After blinking again, Daera starts to slowly turn around. She turns her head with patience and a quiet expression, looking at what is behind her. And oh, gods be dammed, look at what we have here.

A group of five people has come out from the woods, arriving to the river with silent steps. There are three man and two women. They are all of small sizes; not dwarfs, but under the regular height of Westerosi people. They’re wearing clothes of colors similar to the swamp’s, fashion-less and ugly.

Perhaps that’s why they’re staring at her fancy expensive clothes and boots with lust.

Daera’s expression remains unfaced. She’s no longer sad, but calmed. She completely turns around, standing by the river’s shore, under the eyes of these ones.

-Good night-, she greeted with a polite tone.

-Good night-. One of the men greeted her, nodding towards her. We don’t know their names; we’ll call this one: Fuck.

-Beware, princess, there are many lion-lizards around these places-. Another of the men spoke, looking at her from feet to toe. He’ll be: Cunt.

Daera blinked and tilted her head lightly, instantly catching that they know she’s the princess. Great, no need to introduce herself then.

-Lion lizards?-. She gives them a confused smile, shaking her head.

-Dreadful beasts-. The third man raised his brows. This is: Dumb.

-Ah no, thankfully I haven’t seen none-. She kindly said-. But thanks for the warning-, her head tilts to a side whilst her hands meet on her belly.

Still, they keep getting closer, slowly but noticeable. Their steps are paused and marked, something she glanced at with tranquil eyes. Meanwhile, what they glance at is to the clothes and jewelry of the princess; her fine rings and leather dress must cost a fortune, not to speak about her white scalp.

Daera parted her lips when she sighed and scratched her forehead.

-Right…-, she mumbles with tiredness, nodding.

-Take off her clothes first, then do whatever you please-. One of the women spoke for the first time. How should be call her?

-She’s more worthy alive than dead, bitch-. Cunt spat to her. We’ll call her Bitch.

-Then don’t make her die, brute!-. The other woman spat back to him with an obvious tone, not even looking at him. This will be Dead.

Daera watches them all, person by person, looking at their steps and the manners of their hands. They’re armed, each of them with a rusty axe. She breathes in, looking at their faces again.

-Well, you’ve quickly made your intentions clear-. She sighed, making them to look at her with full amusement. A girl standing alone in a river, poor she thing-. Are crannogmen this direct then?-, Daera scrunches her nose, disappointed. Fuck and Dumb chuckled lowly, while Bitch twisted her lips with tediousness-. I like my men to entertain me-, she confessed whilst, under the enough darkness of the swamp, one of her hands so very slowly grabbed the handle of the dagger on her belt.

-I shall entertain you, princess-. Cunt growled with a smile. And it was here that he and Dead started to fastly walk towards her within a second, menacing. The others followed.

And within another second, Princess Daera got her dagger out of her belt, throwing it in the air. Its edge cut the wind sharply until it reached the middle of Dead’s eyes. The dagger crossed her skull and sliced her brains. The last thing she did was gasp, and then she fell hard on the floor, dead.

-Kalistrox, don’t come-. Daera whispered to the air, with a strand of white hair in the middle of her sight.

The other four cared naught about the fallen woman; they started running towards the princess. The closest was Cunt, who smiles while running.

Daera fastly leans to a side and scratches the river’s shore. Afterwards, she threw a handful of mud towards Cunt, who grunted when the heavy wet dirt ended up on his eyes and nose, making him to walk backwards.

-WHORE!-, a muted groan escaped his throat whilst he tried to wipe it all off his eyes.

-CUNT!-. Daera groaned as well, throwing more mud against Bitch and Dumb, but they dodged it and kept running to her with mad eyes. The princess laughs growly, unsheathing her sword.

-Don’t kill her!-. Bitch yelled with rage, and she ran slower when she saw the sword, getting a little scared. Fuck copied her.

Thus, Dumb kept running and became the closest to the princess, who took him off guard when making a savage expression with her face. The man, who cannot be older than twenty, furrowed his brows and, when he least expected, let out a loud and agonizing scream when a hand was cut from his body by her sword.

-AHHHH!!-, Dumb grabs his hand-less arm, looking at it with terror.

Daera laughs with great confidence, and that was her mistake, for the raged Dumb yelled with madness and grabbed her hair, pushing her with his remaining hand. The princess screamed, angry, and then she fell into the river’s deep shore, getting all wet by water and heavy mud. Her hand never left her sword’s handle.

-NO!-, Daera gasps in search of air, quickly sticking her head out the water.

Cunt had run to another part of the river as well, washing off the mud on his eyes while grunting with angriness. All the times that he found the strength to open his red and swollen eyes for a second, he glanced at the white-haired princess. He started to wash his face faster when seeing her falling into the river.

-GRAB HER HANDS, GRAB HER HANDS!-. Fuck yells quickly as he and Bitch ran to reach the princess.

-AHH!-. Remaining in the shore, Dumb breathes fastly while looking at his gone hand laying in the mud. He whines, staring at his bleeding wrist-. FUCKING BRING HER!-, he screamed to the river.

Daera breathed fastly, with her eyes blurry due to the water in them, but she saw something: those two small-sized beasts running towards her with more than evil intentions. She spat the water off her mouth, and took a deep breath.

Bitch runs faster when the princess’ head got dipped into the river from a moment to another. Fuck did so as well, yelling with rage when losing her out of sight.

-Fucking bitch! Where are you?!-. Bitch yells with alert, pushing all the water around her, wanting to hit the princess’ head by doing so, but she was far from her.

-Where are you?! WHORE!-. Fuck screams tauntly, licking his lips and smiling while from his mouth drops of saliva fall-. Fucking coward-, he mumbled with amusement.

-FIND HER!-, a scream was heard from Cunt, who’s walking to the shore near where they are. He pushed Dumb, who still cries for his hand.

Even though the screams continued, none was as loud as Fuck’s, who opened his mouth into a broken shriek when a sword suddenly cut his inner thighs and inner knees from a second to another, under the water.

-FU- FUUUCK! FUCK!!-. He yelled with extreme pain. Bitch quickly runs faster towards there, opening her eyes big when seeing the water turning red-. YOU- YOU…!-, he looks at the water around, harshly getting both his hands into it-. YOU FUCKING CUNT!-, he pulls something out.

Daera let out a pained screamed with her mouth open when Fuck suddenly pulled her out of the water, grabbing her by her hair. All her face and mane drips water while she roars with rage, looking at him, who roars back at her.

-BEAST!-, Fuck grabbed her hair into a fist, and his other hand slapped her strongly on one cheek.

-FUCK!!-, Daera roars. She holds her sword stronger, and head it right to his skull.

But Bitch appeared out of nowhere, arriving behind of her and taking both her hands prisoners into hers. Daera immediately screamed with rage, struggling against her grasp. Fuck grasped her legs the same way, trapping them, and that’s how the both of them began to carry her out the river.

-NO! NOOO! YOU WHORES, CUNTS, LET ME GO!-. The princess shrieks endlessly while dragged in the water-. YOU WEAK BEASTS, LET ME GO!-. Her yells never end.

-Bring her!-. Cunt waits for her in the shore with an ugly smile on his yellow teeth. Steps from him, Dumb is dizzy while looking at his bloody wrist.

-CUNTS!-, Daera grunts, not letting the river to take her sword away. She’s grabbing it tightly, while Bitch is incapable of taking it from her, for both her hands are busied in grasping hers to not let her go.

The princess was delivered to the shore, being harshly placed there. Within a second, Cunt grumbled and headed to her, going for the legs that Fuck fights against with a scrunched angry face.

While placing her in the ground, Bitch leaned forward in a way that made Daera’s eyes shine when she realized what she could do. Not losing time at all, the princess extended her neck up, opened her mouth, and then closed it along a wild roar. Daera bit the woman’s left breast, and squeezed it violently between her teeth.

Bitch let out a great scream, letting go her hands. Out of instinct she stepped away. At the same time, the princess wiggled her head ferociously from side to side; Bitch’s left nipple was torn from her breast by Daera’s harsh teeth, and then was spitted right into her face by the princess

The woman took six long steps back when she opened her mouth towards the sky to scream and cry with a pain none can even imagine. She grabs her bleeding teat, looking at it with extreme terror.

Oblivious to that, Fuck fights against the princess’s closed legs. She looks down there with rage, and opened her eyes big when seeing Cunt grabbing her knees with his big hands, and smiling up at her.

-No-, Daera’s voice trembles, and she realizes her hands are now free-. NO NO, STEP AWAY YOU CUNTS!-. She screams, about to slice them both in a half with her sword.

But a feet stepped on her armed hand, and a hand grabbed her other one. When she looks up, breathing fastly, she found Dumb’s handless wrist bleeding over her face. Daera immediately yells with pure rage, scrunching her nose and struggling even fiercer than before.

-Away!!-, Cunt pushed Fuck, taking his place in front of her. He squeezed her knees, and pulled them apart violently.

-FUCK!!!-, Daera struggled against him with rage, tears coming up to her eyes. Cunt grumbles when finding out the princess was wearing pants below.

-Queer bitch-, the man grunted, quickly pulling her dress’s skirt up, and beginning to break her pants with his bare hands.

Breathing fastly, Daera studies her surroundings within three second: Bitch whines for her lost nipple, rocking her breasts with agonizing pain. Cunt fights to take off her clothes, Fuck lines behind him with an excited evil smile, taking turn to rape her as well. Dumb steps on the hand she grabs her sword with, and grabs her other one while looking down at her. And, just a few steps from them, Dead lies dead with open eyes, with the dagger still on her forehead.

Daera blinks when feeling the drops of blood falling on her face from up. She looks up, and sees the Hand-less Dumb leaning towards her with a crazy smile while trapping her hands. Blinkless, he’s heading to kiss her lips.

And with these very lips of her, she spat harshly against his face from a second to another. The saliva that violently entered one of his eyes made Dumb to scream and to take a step away. He kept grabbing one of her hands, but: stopped stepping on the other.

Hissing, Daera dropped her sword, pulled the dagger out of Dead’s head, cut off Dumb’s remaining hand, and cut away the part of her dress Cunt was pulling away.

When the dress was cut and the pression of his pulling abruptly ended, Cunt gasped and staggered with no time to react. When her legs were free at last, the princess roared and kicked him with all of her strength and will.

Cunt fell right over Fuck, who yelled with pain when his bleeding thighs met the mud.

Daera heads the dagger to Dumb’s legs, and cut both his knees profoundly within a second, making a perfect line. The Handless man screamed agonizing-like, falling on his knees when being servant of the pain.

Before his knees ended right on her eyes, princess Daera fastly makes herself to a side, rolling in the mud. While doing so, she grabbed back her sword, never letting it go again. Dumb sobs with rage, going for her.

With a smooth rolling, Daera stood up from the mud within seconds and, as soon as she did so, she clashed her sword against Bitch, not even letting her to take a last breath. Bitch gasped before being sliced in a literal half by the princess’ sword. Her upper body fell hard on the ground, whilst her legs kept standing for a few more second.

After cutting Bitch in a half, Daera made a perfect circle on her feet and with her sword. Smoothly turning around, she slashed Dumb’s belly. Her angry expression faded away as soon as he died, when all of his bowels fell from his open abdomen. A stinking shit fell with them too; the princess stepped on it, and then cleaned her boots with Dumb’s face.

With dagger and sword now at hand, The Rogue Princess bloody face turns to look at the remaining two. The two that were planning to rape her.

Her breathing blows white strands of her disheveled hair. Blinkless and mouth-parted, she starts walking towards them, licking the blood on her lips.

When Cunt fell over him, Fuck couldn’t walk again. Pressed by the other man’s heaviness, he fell right on a big stone that crashed so hard against his lower back that it appears to have disconnected it from his legs, which are still cut and bleeding while he now drags himself away as quick as possible. Fuck whines and grunts as his elbows are the only thing helping him to move in the mud.

Meanwhile, Cunt is- well, he is running to her.

Daera turns around; her back collapses with his chest. He grunts and, before he could do anything with his rusty axe, the princess surprised him with a stab on his ribs. He gasps, opening his eyes big. Blinking two times while looking at the woods, Daera stabbed him two more times, in different places.

-Fucking…!-, airless, he gasped.

Letting out a sour chuckle, Daera suddenly starts to walk backwards with fastness. Cunt looks around with terror; the loss of blood tricked him bad, and he imagined the trees laughing and pointing at him whilst the princess pushes him with her own little body.

From a moment to another, Cunt felt he flew, and he did. For a second. He fell harshly on the river’s shore, dyeing the water with red. What’s weirdest is that the princess allowed herself to fall with him, only to then rise on her knees and stare down at him with hell-like eyes and evil twisted lips.

She grips her dagger tightly, closing her fist on it.

-I’m a Targaryen-, her honeyed though growly voice spoke while her hand slipped down his pants.  

Her dagger swayed in the air, and then cut off Cunt’s hard erection. When his member was sliced off his body, the bleeding man screamed with pure pain, never taking his eyes off her. He saw her painted all in red, grabbing his bland chopped cock with a rogue glim on her eyes, and smiling to him within a blink.

-I’ll be taken as no fool-. The princess mumbled with rage, starting to fill his mouth of the mud around, filling even her own nails with it.

Cunt coughs violently as his throat and mouth gets clogged by dirt and water with no end. His eyes tears while he yells as louds as he can, desperately searching for air. Daera grunts, grabbing his head with a hand.

-Stay fucking quiet!!-, she grunted, dipping his face into the river.

Cunt struggles and kicks with despair, airless, swallowing both mud and water endlessly, nearly starting to cry blood. Whilst he grunts and tussle, the princess turns around her head. She sees the other one, Fuck, still crawling away. He’s already far, but she sees him. She hears him crying with horror, crawling away like a coward from his sliced thieves friends.

Daera presses her lips, pulling Cunt’s face out of the water. And before he could give his last breath for himself, the princess drew her dagger on his throat, and cut it with a clean move.

Cunt’s mouth dripped vomit, blood, mud and water. His eyes went blank, and his face dipped again in the water when the princess stood up and walked away from him, leaving his unliving body behind.

When Fuck hears steps near him, he turns around his head. Now, when he saw The Rogue Princess approaching to him with armed hands and raged mad eyes, he cried for his mother, and started to crawl and drag himself faster than ever, to no purpose.

Fuck tried to stood up while breathing fastly. Her knees trembled, but he was able to stand weakly. But before he could even think of running, a boo kicked his lower back violently and made him to fall back in the mud. He yelled loudly, with pain and terror. He turns around his head, finding the ugliest and most disturbing image of his life.

The white-haired brown-skinned princess, slouched to look directly at him, is bathed in blood and mud. Her chin, lashes and nose are dripping a red liquid that does not belong to her. Her teeth are stained on red too, as well as her jewelry and her chopped wrinkled dress. What disturbed him the most: the madness and pleasure that shines on the purple of her eyes.

The Rogue Princess grabbed his hair and pulled his head up with harshness. He gasps with pain, scrunching his lips while crying, feeling her breathing approaching to his neck.

-You’ll live a little longer-, Daera whispered with a growing smile.

Fuck screamed with terror, quickly silenced when the princess violently placed Cunt’s bleeding bollocks on his mouth and made him to chew on them.

■ ■ ■

Aemond and Vhagar’s flight was…a silent one. The breeze and the dragon’s breathing are one. Her wings flap quietly, her body soars calmly. The Queen of All Dragons, by all means, goes with tranquility, not worried by anything, neither ashamed of any doings.

On the other hand, the prince that rides on her back is not sharing her feelings at all. Vhagar might be serene, but Prince Aemond is a nervous wreck.

Lucerys has been slain.

Aemond’s only eye is blinkless. His gloved hands are held to his saddle with tension; his palms are sweating below the black leather.

He did it.

His hair is humid, priorly wet by the rain at Storm’s End. His lips are dry and constantly shaking.

He has killed him.

His heart has been beating with endless fastness for hours and hours. His teeth taste like iron; his tongue like blood.

He killed Luke.

Vhagar growls lowly when she sees the shores of King’s Landing already appearing in front of them. In trance, Aemond looks up from his saddle, staring front. When he saw the Red Keep from the distance, his heart stopped beating and his throat got afflicted within a second.

The prince breathes fastly, pressing his lips with anxiety. His dragon keeps flapping her wings, knowing she were to land in the beach nearest to the castle, where she always nests. But the closer they got to the heart of the capital; the more nervous Prince Aemond grew.

He knows his landing means one thing: his family will ask him how things went. He, then, shall tell them that: he won Lord Borros and House Baratheon to their side, he wooed Ellyn Baratheon, and made her his betrothed. And that he lost control of Vhagar, and got Lucerys killed.

Shamefully, he does not have the gut to tell them, at least not now.

The One-Eyed Prince parted his trembled lips and, within a second, he pushed his saddle down. Vhagar shook her neck; she immediately obeyed, and started to descend quickly, straying from the path towards King’s Landing.

Vhagar landed right in a high hill belonging to The Kingswood. It is night, and late, so no one is around nor near them. The green dragon lifted ton of dirt when she landed, when her wings flapped near the ground. She looked up to the white moon, with her small eyes.

As soon as she landed, Aemond breathed with unquietness while he started to fastly come down from saddle, quickly getting off his dragon’s back. He gets endless chills whilst climbing down the ropes; his altered eye stared at her belly only for a second.

Aemond’s feet landed harshly on the ground when he jumped away from Vhagar. He breathes in and out, in and out, fastly and anxiously. He feels his legs trembling, and his heart about to stop beating. Is this how it feels to die? Is his body preparing him for a feeling even worst than this?

“Gods. Gods. Gods”

The prince walks with shaky legs, looking all around at the trees with his eye filled of despair. His parted mouth breathes heavily, the same as how his chest feels. He doesn’t feel his arms, which are hanging to the sides of his body.

-Fuck-, he whimpered with a string of voice.

“Help me. Help me. Oh, please may the Gods help me”

Aemond couldn’t hold himself for much longer. He fell right on his knees, making them to clash against the dirt on the ground. The prince shrieks while he looks around, looking for some light. He hasn’t one thought on his mind and, at the very same time, a thousand of them.

He’s in shock; that it is. The shock on him is so big that he’s thinking that by calling the gods for help he’ll get out of this. Well, he won’t. He’s fucked, he’s condemned. And he knows it. He knows what this means, Aemond is no fool.

He knows this will bring war. What he does not know yet: he has brought the doom of his family as well.

The prince breathes in, shaky, slowly turning his head, looking over his shoulder. He stares at Vhagar, who looked back at him with tranquility and blinkless eyes. Kneeled, the one-eyed huffs a dry laugh.

-What have you done?-, he whispered. His eye stared to her belly, and he shivered when thinking that Luke and his dragon are both literally in there, dead and butchered-. Oh- oh Vhagar, what have you done?!-. His voice shook with disbelief, looking at her.

Vhagar does nothing but to growl lowly and calmly, looking back at him with no shame nor pity. Queen Visenya’s ancient fierceness shined on her former dragon’s eyes. Oh, if dragons could talk.

“I did what I wanted to”, Vhagar would say, “What you also wanted me to do”. She knows her rider is just blinded by fear, or whatever, right now, but the truth is that: her desires were the same as his when they were in the skies. “Are you a coward now?”.

“Imma kinslayer”, Prince Aemond told to himself while looking at Vhagar’s huge tum. Is that what he’s supposed to say to his family? Or is he to confess that he lost control of his own dragon, like an idiot? What is he to do? What- what is to happen now?

Aemond breathes fastly, heavily overwhelmed by the whole situation; he is not having one clear thought at the moment. He feels like a child again. He’s just scared, and he wants to cry.

The One-Eyed Prince turned his head again and, from this high hill, he stared at The Red Keep. His chest comes up and down whilst his only eye, teary, looks at there with not one blink in the middle. Tired and wary, he starts to close his lips. His family is in that castle.

Hours, the prince thinks. Is just a matter of hours for the Black to know about Luke’s death, about what Aemond has done, if they don’t know it already. Then, war will come.

“War. War. War”

It is imminent. It's inevitable now. There is no turning back, and now the war is getting closer. It's almost at the door of his house.

And, when thinking of this, prince Aemond twisted his lips with determination, ceasing their trembling. He growled as he stood up from the floor, and ran towards Vhagar with stiff feet and legs.

He is scared, yes, but he can't afford to stay here, worrying and crying, cursing his dragon's actions. His dear dragon. No. He will act, he has to. And he has to do it now.

-SOVES, VHAGAR!-. With a loud growl, Aemond commanded his dragon to fly, pulling her ropes tightly when he took seat on his saddle.

Quick to answer, Vhagar growled as well, and took off from The Kingswood with a big flap from her wings. They rose in the skies again, flying faster than before. Aemond breathes fastly, clenching his teeth and jaw.

Tears come up to his eyes and then they run down his cheeks, one after another and another after one. Fright and shock have been keeping his thoughts at a limit. He doesn't want to think too far into the future; He couldn't stand it.

So…

He forces himself to live in the moment, to go to protect his family.

He forces himself to not think of Daera and the hate he’ll won from her.

He forces himself to think that he’s still on time, that they can prepare for whatever that may come.

Aemond forces himself to pretend that he doesn't feel a pair of raged eyes on his neck at all times, crossing the entirety of the Blackwater Rush.

■ ■ ■

Daemon stands over an open window. A red gaze of his crosses the whole sea; there is rage on his purple eyes, immense. His chest comes up and down with a slow infuriated breathing. His fists are tight to the sides of his body, he has tears on his demonic eyes.

More than one cry is taking over the room he’s in.

Viserys and Aegon are crying on their cradles; their faces are red and their throats are shrieking, constantly babbling, in the need of tending and kisses. They’re so uncomfortable and unquiet; there’s a reason for that.

Their mother, Rhaenyra, is crying louder than them. Her palms are flat open in a wall. Her head shakes from one side to another whilst her mouth whines endlessly and her closed eyes tear up with no stop. The Queen cries with the worst pain of her life; her chest feels empty.

In Dragonstone, the sky is still dark, but it is almost dawn, so a new day has arrived. All that can be heard around the castle is the crying coming from Queen Rhaenyra’s chambers, from her very self. Every lord, servant and knight either shivers or looks down every time a scream makes echo through the walls.

A dark cloud has been casted on Dragonstone, when news of Prince Lucerys’ death reached his parents’ ears.

-Luke!-, a broken sob comes out from Rhaenyra’s mouth. She cries brokenly, curving her brows and lifting her face towards the ceiling, looking at it with swollen eyes and a trembling open mouth-. Why?-, she whispers sorrowful. To only imagine it, her boy- her son…killed with no mercy-. FU- UCK!-, she cried with a torn heart, screaming loudly.

Master Gerardys had to quickly fetch something to make Prince Joffrey to fall asleep, for the boy became mad when he heard that his brother, Luke, had been murdered by their own uncle, the prince Aemond.

Joff cried less than his mother, but that was only because he busied himself with trying to escape the guards’ arms when wanting to take Tyraxes and fly himself to avenge his brother. With a mouth resembling his step-father and older sister’s, Joff swore a terrible oath of vengeance against Prince Aemond and even Lord Borros. Only the intervention of Ser Erryk kept the boy from mounting his dragon at once.

It was the same with his sister, the princess Rhaena.

-My baby…-, Rhaenyra sobs with a shaky voice, afflicting her throat.

In The Chamber of the Painted Table, when the news was announced, Rhaena fell from a chair to her knees, screaming, crying and whining so loudly that it waked the whole island entirely. Some even searched for some wound, cut or tumor in her, to see if it was that she was burning from within.

Rhaena screamed with so much pain, and squeezed her own chest with so much sorrow, feeling her heart being plucked away from it with no mercy, just as Luke’s probably was too. She cried the name of her brother, her betrothed, four times. After the fourth cry, her father ordered Maester Gerardys to sedate her too, and so he did.

Prince Daemon looks outside with lips trembling of rage, and eyes flickering of grief. His nose is sweating endlessly, and his mouth is dry. Every second he thinks of different moments of Lucerys. Training on the beach, laughing with his siblings, asking him to help with his saddle. Every second he thinks of different ways of murdering Aemond. Tie him barefoot on stones in fire, slicing off his cock and making him to eat it as his last meal, watch him burn.  

Queen Rhaenyra squeezes her belly with one hand whilst the other remains flat on a wall; is the only thing keeping her steady while she cries her soul out. Her feelings are indescribable; no mother should go through this. With the blur of her tears, she can only see him. As a babe, as a child, as a young man. He has been taken away from her…he’ll never be grown up. Her boy. Her sweet boy.

You may be wondering where does Princess Baela stand, in all this. Well then, if you must.

The princess left the Chamber of the Painted Table with swift steps, airless. She reached her dorms, staggering, where she was free to yell as much as she wanted. She fell flat on her bed and cried until ending voiceless and with a sore throat.

She didn’t believe it.

Caraxes, Syrax and Moondancer’s shrieks were constantly heard very near the castle, startling the servants many times. They’re furious too.

Baela cried, but not for long, for now she finds herself walking with firmness and quickness through the castle’s hallways. There are dry tears on her swollen purple eyes, tears that she slapped away from her with angry growls. She is in denial, and scolded herself for her crying.

Soon, the princess arrived to Rhaenyra and Daemon’s chambers. She opened the doors within a push, walking into it with rage and despair. Before the harsh sound of the doors, Daemon looked over his tense shoulder and Rhaenyra lifted up her red face. Viserys and Aegon went silent.

They find Baela with a lifted chin and shoulders.

-Baela…-, Rhaenyra sobbed her name with weakness, looking at her from feet to toe. She looked at her, and her lips trembled when seeing her step-mother’s red sorrowful face.

-I come not to mourn-. The princess spoke harshly, shaking her head. Daemon starts to turn around fully, staring at her with wide red eyes of attention-. My brother is not dead-. She declared with a stiff lip, serious.

Rhaenyra sighed shakily, staring at her with curious eyes of sadness, and tilting her head to a side while heading both her hands to her flat belly. Daemon, blinkless, listens to his daughter too.

-This is not Luke’s end!-. Baela’s loud voice trembled when saying his name. Nyra’s lips shook too, though her head began to nod, slowly-. Not in the hands of a deranged wretch-, she mumbled with decision, shaking her head-. Let us look for him-. She decided.

-Look for him?-, Daemon fastly repeated with his sharp loud voice.

-Look for him!-. His middle daughter nodded with the same sharpness. Hopeful, Rhaenyra caresses her belly, and begins to nod with tiredness.

-Baela…-, his father mumbled, almost ashamed. He fears their hope, for it can only bring more pain to them-. They said th-

-Then you have been misled!-. She quickly cut his words, yelling with firmness. Daemon closes his lips, serious. He hums lowly, looking at the both of them with thoughtful sour eyes.

-Yes…-, a weak whisper came out from Rhaenyra’s lips. Her husband looked at her, and his gaze automatically became softer. She breathes in with deepness. Pain and decision on her eyes-. Yes-. She spoke firmer than before, letting go her belly.

-We’ll find him-. Baela approached to her with decision, holding one of her hands. Rhaenyra sobs and looks at her with curved brows, nodding with the same conviction.

-We’ll leave at dawn-. Queen Rhaenyra declared.

The three share a look between them, decided, but none of the two women dared to ponder the question “What if we don’t?”.

Nevertheless, prince Daemon stood tall, and walked towards them with slow harsh steps, staring at the both of them. Baela gulped, holding Rhaenyra’s hand tighter.

-Whatever the come out, the Greens’ bloodline will end on our dragons’ bellies, their heads on our shelfs…-. He speaks with poison and sourness. His wife’s lips tremble, whilst his daughter nodded, bitter as him-. We will breathe fire, and drink blood-. The prince madly declared.

He approaches to the both of them, with his irritated eyes shining with blood and vengeance thirst. He narrows his eyes.

-Gaomagon ao emagon zire isse ao?-. The Rogue Prince asked, filled of wrath.

[Do you have it in you?]

■ ■ ■

Back to The Neck, Vermax landed on firm ground, growling lowly. His rider, the prince Jacaerys, landed him near where they were camping before, as he calculated before coming down.

Coming off from his saddle, the prince sighs tiredly, patting his dragon’s back.

-I am sorry, Vermax-. He whispered with shame and pity, caressing him. Vermax growled with tediousness, closing his eyes and shaking his neck.

Sadly, there are no sheep nor mutton or cows in swamps, so the search for dinner for the dragons was a total fiasco. Vermax hungers, and it seems that he’ll have to wait until arriving to Winterfell and see what can be offered to him.

Jacaerys sighed heavily, petting him. As he saw, Kalistrox is still in the skies with Daera. They did not exchange words or glances as they flew, as each one was focused on their dragon's supper.

-Alright-. The prince sighs, starting to walk with full calmness. His dragon, purring, follows him slowly-. I know you’re tired but at least help me to…-, as he goes walking and looking front, Jace starts to furrow his brows, cutting his own words-…lit back the fire?-. He mumbles.

He was planning to lit a new fire. But as he approached to where they were before, he realized the fire was still lit, just as he left it. Jace tilts his head to a side with confusion, keeping approaching, and wondering if he was wrong.

When being closer, and seeing their furs and bedsheets, he knew he hasn’t wrong. This is their fire, which confused him, for Daera told him she’d stay to turning it off, and the she’d go up with Kalistrox. Now she’s up there with Kalistrox, he thinks, but the fire is still here.

As Jacaerys approaches to the camp, he noticed a piece of luggage that wasn’t there before, big and lumpy, too big to seem like one of theirs. The prince approaches with slow steps and curious eyes, staring at the luggage as he walks by it.

Jacaerys takes three more steps, looking at it with confusion and mistrust. Only seconds then is that he got to look at it from the front.

And right at that moment, the “luggage” came to life. Vermax squealed whilst Jacaerys gasped when they realized it was a man with his hands and feet tied that struggled against the ropes with despair and fear.

-Ah!-, Jace steps back with quickness; he’s shocked and scared, with his eyes wide open. He breathes fast, seeing all the blood that man is covered with. The man’s screams and pleadings of help are muted by some bloody hairy bollocks on his wide mouth.

The man, Fuck, cries and struggles with terror, moving like a worm in dirt. The prince Jacaerys breathes very fastly, as confused as grossed out, looking at him with wide eyes. Steps are heard near them. Fuck tried to yell loudly to the boy, kicking his feet and looking like he was…trying to warn him about something? …Someone.

-Nyke emagōn pōja havor [I found their supper]-. A taunt mumbling voice spoke behind him.

Jace turns around with frighted eyes. He afflicted his throat strongly, for his eyes automatically traveled to the ground, and in there he found more “pieces of luggage”. More bodies. But these are not alive, as the other one. They’re butchered people, long gone.

Dumb. A man with no hands, bleeding his wrist out; his belly all open, hence his organs on the floor, and his face stained by shit. Dead. A woman with a hole in the middle of her eyes, which are open. Cunt. A man that has no upper body, for neither his torso, arms chest or head are to be found; in the middle of his legs there’s no cock. Bitch. And another woman, literally sliced in two. Her legs are chopped like fresh ham, whilst her upper body lacks a nipple in one of her breasts; instead, is between her lips, soaked in blood.

Jacaerys breathes slowly and deeply, with eyes of fright and marvel, not believing his sight. Feeling his heart beating crazily, his brown orbs slowly began to look up, following a tread of blood from the cock-less body.

Soon, he comes to the sight of his wife standing over a rock. Her hand is holding another, that belongs to the upper-body to the cockless man. His throat is sliced, and his face stained with vomit, blood and mud; his eyes closed, his hand hold to hers.

Daera is bathed in red dirty blood, her pants and dress are torn, and her hair disheveled and wild. Her hands are bloody, so are her arms, so is her neck, her mouth, her teeth, her cheeks, forehead and her pupils. Little of that river of blood is hers.

There is a terrifying calm in her eyes, which are staring at him endlessly. Slightly swinging the corpse whom she holds hands with, Daera looks at Jace amidst all the blood that paints her eyes. Blinkless, she's breathing slowly.

Mouth-open, Jacaerys’ chest comes up and down. Mesmerized and terrified, he looks at his wife from down, not even smelling the blood, neither hearing the man’s pleadings and struggles. The prince merely blinks, shocked by the sight in front of him, the sight of her.

Unfazed by her blood-dripping face, The Rogue Princess looks back at him with easiness; a glim of taunt in her eyes. She sniffed her nose.

■ ■ ■

[goddevouringserpent]

9 people I'd like to get to know better

tagged by @dujour13 , thank you so much!! this was fun hehe 💜

three ships: OH MAN this is a tough one... I'm gonna make things easier on myself and say that, in honour of Femslash February coming up relatively soon, I'll only pick F/F ships, because otherwise I'll be here for an eternity:

Yunia (my Tarnished)/Ranni, if only because I have been rotating them in my mind a LOT recently, especially since @takers-flames helped me figure out a bit of Yunia's backstory

Gideon/Harrow

Kaija (my Knight-Commander)/Camellia. let's go, toxic yuri, let's goooo

last song: Halcyon by Spiritbox! I am normal about Spiritbox I can stop listening to Spiritbox whenever I want

last film: uhh. okay so I am not much of a film-watcher at all. I really should be watching more films because the major I'm going to be starting this year has an entire module regarding film, but IDK I just always have trouble with them. so my answer is the very boring "I legit can't remember, which means either it's been ages since I watched a movie or the last movie I watched did not leave a strong impression on me and I Forgor 💀"

currently reading: alternating between Tesis sobre una domesticación, by Camila Sosa Villada, and Buddha's Little Finger—or Chapayev and the Void, depending on the edition?—by Victor Pelevin (the latter being a recommendation by my bestie, @hate-not-wanting-a-name). I'm, unfortunately, a very slow reader, because being an editor means I spend most of my time reading anything but what I would actually like to be reading, which also kind of limits my reading energy

currently craving: so I actually am craving two things, kind of like superposed cravings? on one hand—so the other day I went out for some coffee with my aunt & I had a slice of key lime pie and a pistachio-flavoured frappé, both of which were absolutely heavenly and I could really, really, really go for that exact combo right now. aside from that? sushi. I'm in a perpetual state of Craving Sushi. no matter the hour, if I've already eaten, if I'm hungry or not, how I'm feeling, I always want sushi. it's a curse 😔

since I've already mentioned Joy and Walkeri on this post, let's just say that counts as a tag lol (only if you want though! no pressure), & as for the remaining 7 tags... uuhh no idea who's done it and who hasn't so I'm open tagging!

[raniououou]

Just a thought…

Why does every time when an angel falls in love, something terrible happens?

In the beginning, before there was paradise, Kimah loved Uri, and Uri loved Kimah. And they became Uri-Kimah, one being, one soul. Together they were love, bliss, and comfort in a time of violence, fear, and pain. But it was not to be, and after the angels were ravaged, Uri-Kimah was split, their age-old love torn asunder. Kimah was set aflame, a star to light the path for Uri, who became Uriel, the flame of God, and God alone.

Before there was sin, He was the anointed cherub that covers. Blessed cherub, son of the morning, wisest of all angels, of unfathomable beauty. Lucifer was perfect in his ways from the day he was created, until the day iniquity was found in him, until the day love bloomed in his blameless heart. Lucifer loved Michael, but it was not to be. And the sanctioned cherub picked up his wounded heart and aching body, driven by the aim to rise above God. Thus, the first sin was born. He waged a war against his Father and ultimately, against the love of his existence. A battle such that had never been fought, and never will again. But he was defeated. Injured and damned, he fell, a third of his brothers fell with him. All would share in his eternal suffering.

Before the flood, the watchers were given charge to look after, protect and pray for mankind. And they did, taking notice of man’s unparalleled faith and resilience. They admired the sons of Adam for it, But they also took notice of the daughters of Eve, and their love for them blossomed into something more. So their leader Semyaza made a pact with his brothers, and they took the liberty of taking the daughters of man to wife, the liberty of following the heart. But it was not to be, and from the union of the sons of God and the daughters of man, giants were born. Sanctioned, the watchers begged their father for forgiveness, but the deed was done, and they had to face punishment. Semyaza was imprisoned, without a hope to ever fly again without wings. Azazel was chained and buried deep beneath a desert, never again to see the light. A flood would come to wash away the sins they helped spread. And the world as they knew it, would never be the same.

Uuuuuuugghfhfh, hope u enjoyed reading whatever this was. I was never the same person after reading Angels Before Man by Rafael Nicolas. That book changed me. Giving me a new perspective and things to think about. Always wondered why everyone, even God could love someone else romantically, except for angels. Heh, idk, i should probably write a poem about this.