#Daenerys Targaryen I can’t wait to see you again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

damn-stark · 1 year

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Chapter 15 What could have been

Chapter 15 of Sandstorm

A/N- A good and sweet chapter!! Some would say it’s the calm before the storm 🤔

Warning- swearing, talks of death, FLUFF, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS BACK*

The air smells like salt, the grey waters crashing against your feet is cold, and the breeze brushing against your skin is chilly; it’s nothing like the warm blue waters at Sunspear. But if you close your eyes the smell takes you back.

You never thought you’d miss a place so much then now as you stand miles away from it.

“Are you all right?” The voice of Daenerys approaching you at shore cuts you off from your stupor.

You peer back and offer her a smile. “Quite,” you assure her and look back at the roaring waters ahead. You wait until she’s close to you to continue. “I just miss Sunspear. I miss the warmth and the calmer waters.” You laugh softly and turn your body to be able to face her.

Daenerys hums and smiles at the ground. “Yes, I’m afraid the waters here are dull and harsh.”

You pick up your shoes off the sand and pick up your skirt to walk towards her standing where the water won’t hit her. “Do you miss Meereen?”

Daenerys draws in a deep breath and looks at the never ending horizon ahead of her. “No,” she admits with a sigh, and proceeds to clasps her hands together. “I can’t miss a place that was never my home. I don’t miss Pentos either.”

You hum softly and nod. You don’t press further so as to not upset her, you do however begin to follow her as she begins to walk down the shore.

“There is one place albeit,” she adds much to your surprise. “When I was child, I lived in this house that had a grand red door, and underneath my window was a lemon tree…” she pauses and the faintest smile decorates her lips whilst tears well in her eyes. “I don’t remember much anymore but I was happy there. I miss that.”

You watch the dragons ascend to the sky in the distance and can’t help but smile. “Well,” you add. “Once we’ve won this war, we’ll build a vacation home in Sunspear, by the blue sea. One with enough space so when the dragons grow tired of flying over the water they can burrow themselves in the sand,” you beam and hook your arm around hers.

“We’ll plant Lemon trees for shade so we can watch the waters roll in and relax after you’ve had a long week of ruling,” you add on. “We'll use the lemons for refreshments as well to cool ourselves off. And at the entrance we’ll have a grand red door. How does that sound, hm?” You drift your eyes to Daenerys, and she meets your gaze with a smile; a bright smile that makes her eyes squint, that lets you see her shiny white teeth, and makes her smile lines crease deeply on her cheeks.

“I like the sound of that,” she muses.

——

*NOW*

You’ve missed it all, the smell of salt, the sand even if it’s irritating at times, the heat, the castle and vibrant colors, the people. You’ve longed to be home, and now seeing it again brings a small joy to your heart.

Albeit, without Rhaenar by your side now there’s more sorrow than actual happiness as the castle finally comes to view.

“Gods,” Arya murmurs with awe as the gold domed roofs on the castle towers gleam as the sun reflects off them.

You peer back at her with a prideful smirk. “Just wait until you go inside.” You blink and look back at the castle below this last sand hill, and notice castle guards riding towards you already to greet you halfway.

“Welcome back home,” Jon murmurs by you.

You meet his gaze and offer him a kind smile before you keep moving, letting the army trailing behind you to follow as well, whilst Eraxis flies past you and fills the sky with a happy screech as she recognizes the place she was born, her first home.

And unlike at Kings Landing, or at winterfell when you first arrived to those snowy lands, here in Sunspear, once you enter the city below the castle, the people aren’t scared of your white dragon. Sure no one besides your family knew of her before, but now that everyone knows about you, as they’ve heard the stories, the people come to love the white dragon the people call The Silent Death.

“Make way!” The Dornish soldiers bellow at the gathering crowd as they try and make a path for you towards the castle. “Make way!”

“Your Grace,” Ser Brienne mutters to you as loud as she can so she can be heard over the people that begin to clamor as they see you passing by. “You should go to the carriage with the children, there’s too many people, it's not safe.”

You meet her gaze and shake your head. “Don’t worry, Ser Brienne, no one will harm me here. I’m home.” You glance over at the crowd of people that gawk and offer them a kind smile.

“Your Grace!” Someone cries out from the crowd.

“It’s the Queen!”

“Queen Y/N!”

People come out of their markets, others stop what they’re doing, and some walk out of their homes to be part of the crowd, to try and catch a glimpse of you and everyone that came with you. Unlike at Kings Landing, or Winterfell people here cheered, others smiled and filled with excitement. Others tried to touch you as if you were some kind of miracle or a god, but the guards never let them get that close. There were also some people at the front of the crowds that bent the knee at the sight of you.

You tried not to let it affect you, you tried to remain collected but seeing all the people happy to see you filled you with glee and pride.

Nevertheless, it’s because of the crowd that getting to the castle took longer than expected. Albeit that didn’t take away from the greeting within the castle walls.

“Queen Visenya Targaryen, second of her name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms.” Ser Brienne exclaims, filling your skin with goosebumps as you’re still not used to such a proper and dramatic announcement. And no matter how many times you’ve seen it already, you can’t wrap your head around people bending the knee for you.

“Your Grace,” the new Prince of Dorne and a distant cousin of yours interjects after a moment of silence. “Welcome back home.” He stands up to his given height and offers you a welcoming grin. “We are honored with your presence.”

You meet his gaze and nod before you get off your horse and respond. “Thank you for having us at such dire times, cousin.”

He scoffs as if you’re being ridiculous. “Please, Sunspear is your home. You may come when you please.”

You hum and without a second more to waste you slowly beam at him before you break away from your spot and rush over to meet him with an embrace. Your cousin returns it and squeezes you tighter.

“You’ve been gone far too long,” he says and pulls back to face you. “And yet you don’t age.”

“And you on the other hand,” you tease him. “Is that a beard I see on your face?” You step back and watch him caress his chin.

“It is, and you thought I could never grow one.” He chuckles, but quickly goes serious. “I want to give you my dearest condolences, cousin. I’m sorry for your loss. Rhaenar was a good boy, he didn’t deserve that fate.”

Your breath falters, but you do the proper thing and thank him. “Thank you.” You avert your gaze and clear your throat, catching Ellaria standing behind him with her yougest daughters by her side. Yet you don’t greet her yet, instead you turn to face Jon, seeing the narrowed glare as he studies your cousin.

Is he jealous?

“Meet my husband, and my Prince Consort, Jon Snow.” You grin at Jon and wave him over so he can get closer. “And Jon, meet my cousin and the Prince of Dorne, Quentyn Martell.”

Jon glances at you before he meets your cousins gaze and offers his hand.

And of course your cousin takes it and offers Jon a grin. “Welcome to Sunspear. My home is yours.”

You smile wider and leave them be to then walk towards Ellaria, noticing Elia with her now embracing her and greeting her with joy and relief to see her return home. Once Ellaria sees you she steps past Elia and her other daughters to curtsy before she speaks. “We all mourn your loss, Your Grace.”

You exhale deeply and nod. “Thank you, Ellaria.”

“I'm happy to see you back home,” she continues. “We’ve missed you.”

You pull your lips to a smile and reply. “And I’ve missed you.”

She gets closer and her smile softens. “Thank you for protecting my daughter and bringing her home.”

You grin. “She’s strong like you and my uncle Oberyn. You should be proud.”

Ellaria looks back at Elia and hums in agreement. “I am.”

“You must be tired after a long journey,” Quentyn cuts in, turning your attention to him. “We’ll have baths prepared in your quarters before dinner.”

You sigh and nod. “Good thank you.” You then turn to the Prince's advisor and speak to him. “Please make sure that the armies are taken care of and properly installed. Have half be underground now that the civilians have returned to their homes, and the others can share the military quarters with the soldiers that live here.”

The advisor nods and attempts to do as you said, but Jon then cuts in. “We don’t want to bother, they can camp outside.”

You quickly meet his gaze and shake your head. “No, it's fine. Winter is here, the desert gets cold at night. It’s better that they have shelter.”

Jon holds your gaze for a second before he nods and doesn’t argue, letting you add one more thing to your cousin. “I’d like to see the maester so he can check on the twins before I go to my quarters. They've been on the road since they were born, I want to make sure they’re okay.”

Quentyn nods. “Of course, again, this place is your home. Do as you please.”

“Thank you,” you say before you look back at the midwives as they approach you to hand over the twins. “Come on my loves, let’s go get you checked on, hm?”

Jon follows by your side, but he gets stopped before you can walk inside the castle.

“Jon, a word?” Ser Davos adds.

Jon hesitates and glances at the twins, wanting nothing more to accompany you since he doesn’t want to be far, but he has duties to fulfill. “I’ll catch up when I can,” he tells you before he presses a kiss on your cheek and follows Ser Davos, letting Ellaria now return to your side.

“Congratulations, last I saw you your belly was small, now I can’t believe they’re here. Your children are beautiful.”

You meet her gaze and smile softly. “Thank you Ellaria. They’ve been through so much already, but I’m glad that they’re safe. I’m glad that they can come here to their home as well.” You look at the sleeping babies and whisper a harmless joke. “And you feel that warmth? That’s the sun,” you giggle. “You’ll love it.”

Nevertheless, when the maester is checking on them, your heart feels as if it’s getting squeezed because of their discomfort. No one was harming them, but you were still filled with worry.

But it seems that your worry doesn’t compare to Jon’s. Ever since you reunited and he held them in his arms for the first time he’s been nothing but overly protective and cautious, he never skips a meal time, he never likes to be far from them, and always, always makes sure that they’re breathing when they’re asleep; the first few nights he probably didn’t even sleep just to watch their little chests move.

Now is one of such examples of protectiveness, after being dragged away he managed to catch up with you in the maesters quarters. “Sorry,” he apologizes to you and finds Rhaenyra crying her little lungs out as the maester feels her heartbeat. “What’s wrong? Is she all right?”

The maester pulls his gadget away and picks up Rhaenyra. “The little princess is fine, Your Grace, she’s healthy, she has a strong heartbeat, and as you can hear a strong pair of lungs.” He chuckles softly and walks to Jon to hand him Rhaenyra. “She’s just upset that we woke her. That’s all, nothing to worry about.”

Jon doesn’t fail to smile at his little girl and begins to sway her gently. “It’s okay, you’re fine, Rhaenyra,” he coos at her, making you watch him with awe as you held Robb in your arms—“I’m here now. You’re okay.”

“The twins are healthy, nothing to worry about. But if you have any concerns you can always come see me.” The maester adds.

You bow your head. “Thank you maester, we appreciate it. Have a good day.” You then walk out and when you’re out in the hall you notice Rhaenyra calm down and watch Jon with her dark eyes.

It’s been a couple weeks since they were born and you’ve seen how good Jon is with the twins, but he never fails to amaze you. His bond with the both of them is very strong.

“Did Robb cry?” Jon asks.

You glance down at him slowly falling back to sleep and shake your head. “No, he was calm. I think I was the one crying instead of him.”

“Are you okay? Did he check on you too?” Jon asks and meets your gaze.

You hum in agreement. “I’m fine. I just need to take care of myself that’s all. But enough about me, you, how are you liking Sunspear?”

Jon glances at the tall white cielings and nods slowly. “It’s beautiful. Bigger than I imagined. And it’s also not as hot as I thought it’d be.”

You giggle, and he meets your gaze. “It’s winter, sure the days aren’t as bitter as in the North, but they are chilly. Just wait until the sun sets, it gets even colder. Unbelievably so.”

The corner of Jon’s lips tug to a smile. “It’s no wonder the cold doesn’t affect you as it should.”

You smirk. “That or maybe I was fated for the cold,” you joke. “Considering you my love were born there.”

Jon snickers and grows flustered. “Sure. But I will say, the warm climate agrees with you. I think all that fur hides too much of you.” He shoots back smugly, and slowly looks you up and down to once again study your light white dress that lets you show off your arms, and more skin than you could show off further north. He watches how the tail, and the thin matching cape hooked on your sleeves so elegantly flows behind you, he admires the way the gold accessories that you wear on your arms, around your neck and on your head glimmer against the sun and light.

“Why thank you.” You beam at him. “You should see what I wear when I swim. Perhaps I’ll show you later, hm?”

Jon smirks at you. “Please do.”

You hold each others gaze for a lingering moment, making your smile turn all timid like.

“You hear that Robb,” you direct at your baby boy. “Perhaps you’ll be getting a brother soon enough.”

Jon scoffs, letting you reach one hand over to him to tuck his hair behind his ear. “What?” You ask.

“I think we just practice for a while, hm?”

You gasp softly in surprise to his comment and grab his arm. “Jon Snow.” You giggle. “You never fail to amaze me.”

Jon shoots you a smirk before his smile then softens. “I'm happy to see you smile.” He caresses your cheek, but soon pulls his hand away out of fear he’ll drop Rhaenyra if he holds her with just one arm.

“I’m content,” you assure him. “I have you, our babies, I’m here at Sunspear. I feel content.”

Jon leans over and presses a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m glad,” he whispers.

It’s true, you feel content, the most you’ve felt in months since Rhaenar’s passing. If only this war wasn’t still going on so you could be like this forever…but unfortunately there’s still stuff to be done and…there’s more sorrow you have yet to feel. You don’t know how you know that exactly, perhaps it’s because it is war, or something else, but you feel it coming…

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

He could see it there in the back of his head. No matter how much he wanted to forget the memory, the tremendous amount of power he felt on that battlefield, it all stuck with him like a dirty spot you can never clean.

He doesn’t know, albeit, whether he liked that power he felt when he was on Rhaegal. It was a power unlike any other. Commanding armies, ruling over people and lands never made him feel so…strong. With one word—no, sometimes he didn’t even have to say Dracarys for Rhaegal to blast out fire, he just did it, he listened and knew every ounce of rage Jon felt when he thought he’d never see you again.

When he was flying, when he was in the sky he would’ve laid waste to that haunted castle if it meant getting you back. But now, now that time has passed since the battle, now that he can reflect, he knows that feeling so invincible is wrong. Sure he doesn’t care if he had burnt away all the soldiers, it’s a war, it's just what he felt capable of doing to everything else that was in between him reaching you and the twins.

How is that you did it? Kept your cool while on Eraxis? How did you stop that power from taking control?

If he asked you would you think he’s weak? Would you think he’s incapable of having Rhaegal?

Probably not, but he still worried you would.

It’s why he didn’t want to ask, but he needed to for his own sake.

Albeit you aren’t in your shared quarters, instead the Wetnurse was there taking care of the twins.

“Do you happen to know where the Queen is?” Jon asks the older woman.

The woman lifts her head and nods. “At the pools, Your Grace. She said she’d be back soon.”

Jon turns to go search for you, finding the Water Gardens castle easier to navigate than the actual castle. Albeit he can’t decide which castle is prettier, here pale pink marble paves the gardens and the courtyard, different fruit trees he had never seen in his life shaded the grande pools and beautiful fountains. It was like paradise.

Which is why if you wished to move here then he’d accept. Besides, where else could he watch you be so relaxed?

The moment he found you he saw you in the water floating on your back with your eyes closed. He noticed that you wore a bathing suit, and no burden. He could watch you just take in the sun all day.

Yet he doesn’t know that what you were thinking about wasn’t so relaxing. Your heart is in anguish as you think about Daenerys now more than ever, about that plan you had to build that vacation home here in Sunspear.

You were completely serious about having that dream become a reality. It would have been nice watching your children play in the waters, bask in the sun and play in the sand. It would have been nice seeing them grow up together like family, like the family you never got to be because of war, because of your fathers.

But no, now you’re also at war.

“Y/N?”

Jon.

You smile and turn up right in the water, and see him standing there at the edge of the pool. “My love,” you greet and swim over to the ledge. “Are you here to join me?”

Jon shakes his head. “No. I came to watch you.” He grins smugly.

You swim back and hum. “Ah, well that’s a bummer, the water is pleasant.” You bat your eyelashes before you swim to the ledge again and fold your arms over the marble. “How are they?”

“Sleeping,” Jon says. “That’s all they do.”

You giggle. “When they get older they become restless, it’s best to appreciate that they sleep all day right now.”

Jon hums and crouches down. “You’re right you look breathtaking in your swimming garments.”

You offer him a sweet smile and hold his gaze whilst you discreetly reach for his hand. He parts his lips to say something, but before he can speak you manage to pull him in the water.

Jon quickly swims to the surface, and you can’t help but laugh as he stares at you in disbelief.

“You looked hot standing there,” you feign innocence and wrap your arms around his neck.

Jon albeit then splashes water on your face, causing you to pull away and gasp. “I had to get you back,” he chuckles.

You swipe the water off your face and grumble.

“Can I ask you something?” Jon asks in a serious tone all of a sudden, making your smile fade.

“Of course.” You nod.

Jon sighs and averts his gaze, making you feel a bit of concern.

“Has there been something that’s happened in your life that you can’t forget? No matter what it sticks with you like a dirty spot you can’t clean.”

Without having to take a moment to think, the answer pops up immediately. “Yes,” you let him know. “It was my uncle Oberyn’s death….” You let out a shaky sigh. “The Mountain killed him right in front of me, he squished his head like it was some fruit. Every memory I had of him was haunted by his bloody face, it felt like I was the one that killed him. I knew I didn't, but I couldn't wash the blood off my hands, or think of anything else.” You blink in confusion and slightly tilt your head. “Why? What’s bothering you?”

Jon exhales. “That day I fought Daenerys at Harrenhal, when I was full of rage because you were missing, I felt this immense amount of power while I was on Rhaegal. This invincibility that I fear now. I would have burnt down that castle and everyone in it…” he trails off and shakes his head as his eyebrows furrow deeper. “I don’t want that to take control of me the same way it took control of Daenerys. How do you do it? Stay calm? Keep Eraxis calm?”

So that’s it? That’s what had him brooding all day?

“Well one,” you say softly. “You aren’t like that.”

“What if I am?” He presses.

You shake your head. “But you aren’t,” you argue. “You're a good man Jon. You were just angry, but I know that you would never let that control you. I actually envy you for keeping calm when problems arise.”

Jon sighs deeply and averts his gaze, causing you to grab his chin and tilt his head so you can have him meet your gaze. “Jon you’re smart, tactical, you could have burnt that damn castle down and killed Daenerys at the spot, but you didn’t. You know why? Because that’s not you.” You point at his chest. “No matter how angry you may get, no matter what might happen, that will never be you because you’re simply not that person. As to the dragons?” You exhale deeply.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand our special bond with them. I mean they react to our emotions, Eraxis comes to me when I need her without having me say it, it’s amazing,” you continue. “But like every animal, like every person, they have their emotions too, they react to their own pain. I don’t think we can fully control them, we can guide them, control some aspects but they’re beings too. Do you understand?”

Jon holds your gaze and nods softly, making you offer him a soft smile.

“As to that surge of power,” you add more lightheartedly. “Wouldn't everyone feel it? I mean you’re on a fucking drsgon! Just remember, don't let anger control your judgment.” You lean in and press a gentle kiss on his lips. “Did that help?”

Jon cups your hand and nods. “It did. Thank you.” He then proceeds to press a kiss on your hand, making you grin.

Albeit that grin falters and you begin to frown instead as anguish fills your heart. “Now that we’re on this subject,” you add softer and slide your hands down to his neck. “I need you to promise me something. Can you do that?”

Jon’s expression turns puzzled and he just asks, “what is it?”

You sniffle and fight the tears that threaten to spill. “With the war coming to an end, the worst has yet to come…I need you to promise me that if I…don’t make it—”

“Don’t say that,” Jon cuts you off.

You shake your head and just slightly tighten your grip around him. “Let me finish, please.” You beg in a quivering voice. “If I don’t make it, if I die don’t seek revenge, don’t. Just take the twins and their dragons and get far away from here. Don’t make them seek revenge either, raise them, be their father. Please.”

“Y/N,” Jon whispers.

A tear falls from your eyes and your hold softens. “I,” you swallow thickly. “I grew up without my parents, Jon. The war ripped them away from me. Because of it I had to hide all my life, I had to live in fear. Promise me you’ll take them, go beyond the wall, cross the narrow sea, I don’t care, just don’t seek revenge, they need at least one of us. Please, swear to me.”

Jon swallows thickly and nods stiffly. “I promise,” he whispers.

You sigh with relief and then throw your arms around him for an embrace. “I love you…more than life itself,” you whisper.

Jon hugs you back and caresses your back as he whispers. “I love you too.”

You pull back to face him. Jon offers you a faint smile before he cups your cheek and leans in to give you a gentle kiss on your lips before he kisses your forehead too.

The gesture makes your heart skip a beat and your face burn. The kiss brings back your joy and amusement you had felt moments ago. “Now,” you say softly and slide your arms down his clothes to pull them off and throw them to the side. “Wow,” you muse as you see his toned torso. “I’m lucky aren't I?” You beam at him and let him grab your waste as you once again slither your hands around his neck. “I'm willing to make a third baby here. Now.” You giggle and press your forehead against his.

Jon flashes you a grin and shrugs. “Let’s keep practicing,” he insists. “I want you to myself for a while now.”

You squint your gaze lightheartedly. “I’m afraid we’re too late for that. You have to share me with your children now.”

Jon shakes his head. “That doesn’t matter, we can find moments to ourselves like we do already. And like now. If you’re expecting a child we have someone between us.”

“Ah. Well when you put it that way, fine, we can practice—”

“But, uh, not here,” Jon quickly cuts in.

You laugh and pull back. “I know that. Come on, we can go somewhere else.” You climb out of the pool, and as the servant helps you put on a light gown you add something else to Jon. “Before we go on our rendezvous though, I need to show you something.”

“What is it?” He asks.

You peer over at him over your shoulder and just shoot him a teasing smirk. “You’ll see.”

Jon then huffs as he looks at his wet clothes. “By the way, I didn't bring extra clothes to the pool. You got my clothes wet.”

You snicker. “I like you better that way,” you tease him. “Anyway, we won’t go far, just cover yourself with a towel.”

Jon sighs but has no choice but to do as you advised as he follows you inside the castle.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” you interject and turn around to face him as you continue to walk towards the gallery you want to show him. “Considering you were in the Night's Watch, and you weren’t allowed to marry or what not, what would your brothers say if they knew you married a princess?” You ask curiously.

Jon smiles at the ground before meeting your gaze again. “Queen,” he corrects you. “You’re a Queen.”

“Sure,” You brush him off. “Now come on, tell me.”

“Well you met Edd,” he responds softly. “He said I was a lucky bastard. And he called you beautiful.”

You smile softly. “I wish I would have gotten to know him longer. Ask him about you.”

Jon sighs softly and glances ahead. “The others would just tease and ask too many questions.”

You laugh and then clear your throat. “How is it like to lay with a Dornish woman?” You mock a man's voice, causing Jon to chuckle.

“Why do men ask that?” You ask in your normal voice. “I mean sure we are very beautiful,” you giggle. “But we are still women.”

Jon shrugs. “I don’t know. But I know you’re not like every other woman.”

You snicker and grab his hand before you turn around as you approach the gallery. “You flatter me, husband. Anyway come with me.” You push the doors open, and walk into a white room that had no windows on the walls, the floor is decorated with different red carpets, and the cieling, that was the most impressive; it was made of colorful and delicate stained glass. Since the sun is out, the ceiling reflected in bright colors that basked your faces and made the art in the room even more beautiful.

“Its beautiful in here,” Jon muses as he loses himself in all the art hung around the room, all the statues that stand in different spots.

“It was my uncle Doran’s favorite place,” you share softly and stop in front of an art piece of women wearing a veil made of blood, and holding a bouquet of flowers that pricked her fingers. “Since he couldn’t travel the world he found solace here,” you finish.

“Who painted all these?” Jon asks whilst his feet shuffle so he can look at you. “These are impressive.”

The corner of your lips pull to a faint smirk as you turn to face him. You don’t say anything, but Jon quickly understands that it was you. “These,” his breath catches and twists around to admire more art. “These are beautiful y/n.”

You smile softly and walk over to him slowly. “My uncle didn’t have any daughters, so when I came to live here, he liked to spoil me rotten. When I started getting into my art he liked to hang every piece of art I made in here, even if they were terrible. As they became better this place became his pride and joy.”

Jon looks over at you with a smile. “I see why.”

You smile shyly at the ground before you slowly step behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. He uses one hand to caresses your arm as he walks towards a statue of the head of a stag wrapped around it is a snake; it’s long and very carefully detailed, it’s body wraps around the stags neck and slithers around its antlers penetrating through an ear and coming out of its eye.

“Did you carve this?” Jon asks as he tries to read the meaning.

You nod and hum. “I did.”

It was one of the last pieces your uncle put on display here. Does it have a meaning though?

No.

“What does it mean?” Jon asks what you were just thinking.

You sigh and shake your head. “Nothing. I just saw it in a dream.”

Jon hums and peers back at you with a sweet smile. “Well it’s all very beautiful. You’re an amazing artist. Why don’t you paint more often?”

You shrug. “I haven’t had time,” you answer honestly. “But I have drawn. I drew you sleeping with the twins on your chest. It’s my most prized possession now. I’ll show you when we get to the castle.”

Jon nods softly in agreement before a smirk tugs on his lips and he turns himself around to be able to face you, and then hold your jaw. “Now about that practice.” He teases, making you grin before you take him in for a kiss.

However, the moment is soon cut short as the doors open and a throat clears. “Your Grace,” the voice of your cousins advisor cuts in.

Jon and you break away from each other, and he tugs the towel tighter around his torso.

“Yes?” You probe.

“The Lady Hand has arrived,” he shares, “she says she needs to speak to you urgently.”

Urgently? That’s probably all lies. She’s eager to meet the twins.

“All right,” you respond with a sigh and bow your head. “Thank you. We’ll depart right away.”

The advisor leaves and you turn to meet Jon’s gaze. “Guess it will have to wait.” You snicker and stride ahead of him.

——

Returning to Sunspear seemed to be a small cure, roaming the halls you once did when you were younger brought a soft smile to your face, and showing Jon and your babies where you grew up, where Rhaenar grew up as well, provided you with a joy you lost when Rhaenar died.

“Arya,” you call out as you catch the girl peeking out the window that overlooks the gardens below. “Where’s Sansa? We got word she’s here.”

Arya's eyes slide over to you and she points to the window. “She just arrived and was quickly whisked away by some prince.” She grumbles.

Your eyes widen and you hold the back of Robb’s head before you rush over to the window to also peek out beside Arya.

“I’m not sure that’s appropriate,” Jon interjects from where he stands. “We should give her space.”

You squeal and grin brightly. “It’s my cousin, Prince Mors, the man I spoke to her about.”

Prince Mors is Quentyn’s younger brother, he’s taller than his brother, he's also slender than the men in the North, but his muscles are quite toned, you could see them under his robes. He also had the common Dornish features; dark hair, brown eyes and a bright tan skin.

Considering he’s the youngest son he doesn’t inherit Dorne, so he spends his life much like your uncle Oberyn did, traveling the world and sailing across the sea’s. Some say he’s wiser and better at handling politics than his older brother, but he doesn’t wish to start a war and fight for the throne so he doesn’t deal with any of it. You know him as well, or well you knew him; much of the time you spent with him was when you were younger. He was kind, less harsh than some of the other boys, but he is a brilliant fighter.

Sansa deserves a kind man, and he can be that man.

“She’s been smiling like an idiot the entire time,” Arya points out. “Is that normal?”

You hum. “It can have two meanings though, one just fool him into thinking you’re interested when you’re not, or two, she’s actually interested. Your sister isn’t one for games anymore so I suppose it’s the second.”

“You know that by just seeing her face?” Jon queries and takes a few steps towards you.

You peer back at him and nod with a cocky smirk on your face. “Aye.” You return to look at Sansa walking at Prince Mor’s side, and catch them stop by a rose bush filled with the most beautiful white roses. Mors picks one and tucks it behind Sansa’s ear, letting it stand out perfectly against her long red hair.

Sansa’s smile also softens and her eyes fall, whilst her cheeks seem to grow the faintest tint of pink.

“That’s ridiculous, don’t tell me she’ll fall for that,” Arya grumbles.

“I think it’s quite sweet,” Ser Brienne gives her opinion as she sneaks a peek, causing you to grin wider. “Gods know she deserves someone kind.”

“Besides,” you throw out and lift your head higher as they continue to walk. “It’s not like they’re getting married, they’re having a stroll. A kind stroll while Sansa waited for us. Jon,” you call out and look back at him. “Come see.”

“I’d rather not,” Jon scoffs.

You snicker. “Are you feeling a bit protective over there Jon? Don’t worry,” you say and return your gaze to Sansa and prince Mors, noticing they turned the corner and seem to be walking back inside. “Gods, they’re coming inside, quick act normal.” You part away from the window and continue to head towards one of the parlors.

“Wine?” The servant asks as you sit down.

You shake your head. “No, thank you, some water will be fine.”

The servant nods and walks away, letting you pull Robb out of the sling you wear around you and seeing he’s wide awake now. “<You’ll keep my secret about me spying on your auntie right?>” You ask the baby in High Valyrian, making him blink and your smile to soften.

You look over at Jon beside you and see him watching Rhaenyra sleep. You don’t say anything, you don’t want to interrupt the moment, instead you just watch him with awe.

“When do you think—” Jon pauses as he catches you staring when he looks at you. He then mirrors your smile and leans over to press a kiss on your forehead.

“What were you saying?” You press him.

“When do you think they’ll start smiling?” He finishes asking and looks down at Robb in your arms.

You lift your gaze and think back to Rhaenar when he was a baby. “Well,” you muse. “Perhaps at the next moon cycle. So when they’re about 60 days old.”

Jon huffs, making you laugh.

“Don’t worry that time passes quickly, you’ll soon find out.” You let him know.

“Still—”

“Your Grace,” the sound of Sansa’s voice cuts Jon off, pulling the attention of the both of you up to her, and Prince Mors bowing beside her.

You stand up and offer them a soft bow of your head. “Lady Sansa. Prince Mors.”

Sansa straightens up after her curtsy and her eyes immediately fall on Robb in your arms. “Enough of pleasantries right now,” she says and doesn’t hesitate to walk over to you. “Let me meet my niece and nephew.” She puts her arms out, letting you carefully hand her Robb.

“This is Prince Robb,” you tell her. “The youngest twin.”

Sansa fixes him in her arms and her smile softens as her eyes begin to water. “He’s perfect…” she sniffles. “He has your eyes Jon.”

Baby Robb moves his fisted hand, letting her reach over with her finger so he can grab it.

“Careful,” Arya warns her in a teasing tone. “They don’t know you like they know me, they might cry.”

“And this,” Jon brushes Arya to the side as he stands up and approaches his sister. “Is Princess Rhaenyra. The eldest.”

Sansa’s eyes drift to the sleeping baby girl and her eyes fill with even more tears, but her smile never falters.

“They’re wearing what I made them,” Sansa points out.

You nod and watch as she switches Robb to one arm so she can then reach for Rhaenyra as well. “I couldn't wait to put it on them,” you share.

“Careful,” Jon mutters as he lets his hands hover below Rhaenyra's back.

“Yes,” Sansa remarks. “I know how to hold a baby Jon.”

“She also has Jon's eyes,” you share since she’s sleeping. “Albeit it’s the temper I don't know where she gets it from. She’s feisty.”

Sansa laughs. “I’m sure she will be.” She lifts her gaze to meet yours. “I brought the dragon eggs like you requested, they should have been taken to your quarters.”

You smile at her and nod. “Thank you. Hopefully soon enough they’ll hatch so they can bond. I’m excited!”

Sansa’s gaze falls back on the twins and her smile stays on her face the longest you’ve ever seen it stay alive. “I’m proud of you Jon,” she says. “I’m happy for you.”

As they have their moment you walk to your cousin and give him your attention. “It’s nice seeing you again, cousin.”

Prince Mors flashes you a grin. “And you, who would’ve thought the next time I saw you you’d be a bloody Queen. Uncle Oberyn would be proud.”

“I’m sure he would,” you agree softly.

Mors smile fades away and his eyes fill with the same pity you’ve seen many others look at you with. “I just want to say congratulations on your babies, and my condolences on the passing of your son. It’s weird to say those things in the same sentence, I’m sorry.”

You swallow thickly and plaster on a faint and thankful smile. “Thank you, cousin.”

He reaches over and grabs your shoulder. “Blood must have blood,” he says in a more intimidating voice. “I want to join your forces, help with your fleet if it’s okay with you.”

You blink in surprise and nod. “Of course that’s okay. I’m honored in fact, I’ve heard incredible things about your reputation, thank you.”

Mors shakes his head. “No, thank you.” He pulls his hand away and bows his head. “I’m at your will, Your Grace.”

From the corner of your eye you catch Sansa stealing a peek at your conversation, and have to hide your growing mischievous smirk.

“Actually,” you add to your cousin and shift to the side so you can see Sansa better. “The title of Master of ships is open. I’d love for you to join my small council.”

Mors eyes widen whilst his smile softens. “That would be great,” he agrees. “Thank you. Truly, thank you!”

You hum softly and steal a glance at Sansa, making her look away and focus back on the twins.

“Okay,” you change the subject giddily. “Before I get swept away with all the business, I would like to go visit my family’s Master-at-arms, he helped train my uncle Oberyn, my cousin Trystane, some of my sisters, and me.”

Mors snickers knowing how incredibly skilled and intense the now retired master-at-arms is, only making the Stark siblings confused.

“For what?” Jon asks cluelessly.

You smirk. “Show off of course. Ser Meer is truly amazing. He doesn’t train like most other Master-at-arms.”

Jon shakes his head and he’s about to say something, but Arya cuts him off as she jumps off the couch. “Let’s go. I want to see y/n train!”

“Before you go,” Sansa says and hands the babies to Jon. “I need to give you two something.” She looks over at one of your Queensguard to pass a knowing look and share a nod.

You furrow your eyebrows and slowly make your way to Jon to take Rhaenyra from him while he holds Robb. Ser Alys then walks over and unhooks a leather sheath from her belt line.

“Tyrion sent this as a present for the twins,” Sansa shares and grabs the sheathed sword from the Knight. As she turns to face you, you notice that the sword wasn’t just some ordinary sword, the golden pommel carrying a red ruby is one you recognize, it was Ser Jaime’s Valyrian sword. And before that it was the sword of the cruel King Joffrey—you remember clearly when he got it at the breakfast ceremony, it was a distasteful display. He couldn’t even swing the damn thing.

“He said his brother had no use for it buried with him, and he hopes it can be a step towards forgiveness.” Sansa continues and pushes the sword toward you.

You swallow thickly and hold back your tears as you take the sword from her hands. “We’ll have to write him our gratitude,” you say. “Thank you for giving it to us.” You glance over at Jon and see him studying the sword that was once a part of his fathers sword; or so you’ve been told.

“Yes, we’ll write to him,” Jon agrees with a sigh. “Thank you Sansa.”

You then proceed to hand the sword back to Ser Alys so she can take it to your quarters.

“What about the twins?” Sansa then asks as you pick up the sling off the couch to give it to her.

You smile at her. “We’ll take them of course, they’ll be fine,” you assure her.

——

*LATER*

“Queen y/n, my kindest student.” He rises up and meets your gaze. “I heard of your ascension, I’m glad that we get to see a Dornish Queen on the Throne. I’m sure your mother would be proud.”

You sigh softly. “Thank you.”

He flips the sword in his hand as he glances around at your company before shooting you a questioning look. “If I may ask, what brings you here, Your Grace? I’m sure I’m not worth visiting.”

You walk around the training circle to admire all the weapons racked together. “I was hoping to give a small presentation to my family.” You smile. “I’ve told them of your stories and they’re eager to see for themselves.”

The master at arms begins to stroke his chin and looks at your family standing to the side. “Well, in that case then I’m willing to give them a show. Albeit they must know that I don’t hold back, an enemy at battle wouldn’t. Queen or not.”

You pull a spear from the rack and study its gold design on the stick. “I was hoping you wouldn't.” You look back at Jon and shoot him a smirk.

“All right,” the master at arms gives in and sheaths his sword. “Let’s go then. To our training arena. Let’s show the Northerners what we’re made of, little sunspot.”

You grin and flip the spear around in your hand before you skip to catch up to his fast pace.

“Are you sure, Your Grace?” Ser Brienne asks.

You peer back at her and at Jon and the others walking behind you, and nod as you shoot them a wink. “It is. There’s nothing to worry about, right Mors?”

Said man snickers and nods. “Of course, he won’t actually kill her.”

You chuckle and follow the man out, you don’t give Jon and the others a clue as to where you’re going, you just let them see the landscape change from beautiful white and vibrant walls, and then to orange sandy dunes that yanked your foot down. Well for them since they don’t know how to navigate the terrain.

“For the new people joining us,” Ser Meers interjects. “For my older students I like to take them to tougher arenas since in battle there’s no guarantee you’ll fight on flat grounds. It prepares you to use your environment to your advantage.”

“Fighting at shore is the best,” Mors adds to the conversation. “Albeit the salt stings, and Jellyfish are sneaky bastards. You got stung once didn’t you y/n?”

You look back with a grin. “Yes, right on my chest. Obella threw it at me.”

Sansa’s eyebrows furrow in slight disbelief that she doesn’t let show for long.

“It’s okay I got her back by shoving her to a cactus,” you add with a giggle.

“Here,” Ser Meers cuts in, forcing you all to stop in your tracks. “Tell your knights to stand down.”

You look back at your knights and only give them an assuring nod before you join Ser Meers a few feet ahead. And before you knew it without any warning he swings his blade, making you throw your head back to miss being hit.

“Okay,” you mutter and then run at him, but instead go low and manage to kick his leg before you flip around on the ground and kick up at his chin.

Ser Meers groans and you twist around and shove yourself to your feet to then pull out a small blade and swing it across his chest, managing to cut him a little.

“Good,” he compliments. “But a poisoned blade doesn’t affect right away. Remember that?”

You pull out your spear and nod. “Of course.” And luckily for him your blade isn't poisoned right now either.

Regardless, you then swing your blade at his neck, but he throws a dagger at you at the same time, causing you to twist your body to the side. He uses your slight distraction and grabs ahold of your spear before he kicks your chest, managing to catch you off guard just the slightest bit and causing you to tumble down the sand hill.

“Y/N!” You hear Sansa call out as you’re rolling down the sand.

When you hit sort of stable ground you come to a stop and groan out. It’s been a while since you’ve taken a tumble like this, it fucking hurts!

However even if it does hurt and you are down, you don’t try and get back up, you lift your head off the ground an inch and peek back, catching Ser Meers running at you down the hill like some scary assassin out for blood, so you stay put. Once you hear him close by you grab a handful of sand and wait for a second. The moment he stops right behind you, you twist your torso around and throw the sand at his eyes with a deep growl.

Ser Meers stumbles back and grabs at his eyes, so you get back up and hit his legs to pretend to slice them, before you spin around to get further back and then hit his throat to pretend to take him out, ending this session.

“Good job!” He exclaims and struggles with the sand in his eyes. “That was good. You haven’t lost your training.” He pulls his water pouch out and rinses his eyes out, making you pat his shoulder. “You okay, Ser?”

He blinks repeatdly and nods. “Always.” He then turns to face the group on top of the sand hill. You follow his line of gaze and see the castle's adviser whispering in Jon’s ear, albeit you don’t pay too much mind to it.

“Who wants to go next?” Ser Meets shouts out. And right away Arya raises her hand.

“I would, against the Queen.” She smirks at you, and you shoot her one back before you run back up the hill.

Albeit just as Arya pulls her thin sword out, Jon faces you with that long uspet look of his that never means anything good.

“That’ll have to wait,” Jon interjects as the advisor hands him a raven scroll. “We have to talk.”

You begin to frown and swallow thickly.

Once you return to the castle, and after you put the babies down in their cradles with their dragon eggs now keeping them company in their cradle, you meet in the parlor and find out what had upset Jon so much that he didn’t speak at all the entire way here.

“Daenerys told everyone the truth about Jon’s real parentage,” you reveal and throw the scroll down on the table.

“I thought it didn’t benefit her,” Arya grumbles.

Jon sighs. “No it doesn’t, but she lost Greyworm its revenge. She doesn’t care about the stakes.”

“Why should it matter if the two of you are married,” Mors interjects. “Your Targaryen ancestors married in the family to keep the line pure.”

You and Jon share a small glance before you look around with no shame, after all Jon and you never let that affect you, you love each other too much, and he doesn’t consider your father his own, so neither of you are ashamed of it.

“We don’t care,” Jon interjects. “My father is Lord Eddard Stark. He always will be, so it’s not that we care what we are to each other, all the people need to know is that me and y/n are man and wife.” He grabs your hand, and you offer him a kind smile before you face your advisors sitting on the couch, and frown.

“It’s the Lords that are allied with us,” you share the truth. “Regardless if Jon doesn’t consider himself a Targaryen, they don’t agree with sister marrying brother, that, and well they can use it to betray us and ally with the Prince Consort Gendry Baratheon. Because after all it’s him they want on the throne now that he married Daenerys”

“Then burn them,” Arya suggests. “They would be traitors and you have dragons. Use them if they want to defect.”

Jon shakes his head. “We can’t just go burning down castles and towns Arya. We do that, we become just like Daenerys.” He argues.

“You won’t burn their towns, just the Lords.” Sansa interjects now, catching you by surprise. “Burn them and have someone else take over. They’ll think twice about betraying you.”

You can’t help but smirk, but don’t show it long, instead you bring up something else. “We’ll send them ravens, explain why that information wasn’t shared and warn them about the traitors' fate. If they turn then we burn them.”

“What of the Citadel?” Ser Davos cuts in, drifting your eyes to the Onion Knight. “I’m sure they’ll have something to say.”

You shake your head. “If they do, they won’t complain until we win the war. We can take care of them if it happens, as of now though, we attack because that’s what she wants to do. No more waiting.” You look at all your advisors and smirk mischievously. “Daenerys is desperate and wounded. Drogon is hurt as well. We have her surrounded. Let’s strike now. Let’s end this war.”

A/N- There’s a fight i'm excited for next chapter!

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

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filhadoboto · 6 months

Text

Falling for You - Chapter 4

SUMMARY: Daenerys sees the love of her life turn to ashes in her arms. She believes she will never see him again, but fate has other ideas. (rating: M)

Written for "Jonerys Falling for You 2023" - Day 3 - Monsters

@iceandfirejonerysdiscord

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 - Have we met before?

Daenerys Targaryen was awakened from her daytime rest by the same primal instinct that had kept her alive for centuries, and the first thing her keen senses registered was the smell of human blood mixed with burning flesh and ash.

That smell meant only one thing to those who were like her. Death.

That smell meant her coven had been invaded. Some group of hunters had waited for the sun to be high in the sky to attack, corner and kill them. Not even the thick stone walls of Harrenhal had prevented them from entering. But what was most alarming to her at that moment was not that her coven was under attack, but rather that Aemon, her husband, was not in the place where he had fallen asleep beside her at dawn. He had probably heard something suspicious, gone out to investigate, and, true to who he was, was at that moment fighting like a wild beast to protect their coven and kill as many hunters as possible.

She left the room she and her husband shared and could hear better the sounds of fighting, of doors being kicked in and furniture being destroyed, the screams and moans of pain of the wounded reverberating through the hallways. Terrified, Daenerys went in search of him, and as she walked down the corridors that led to the surface of their refuge, the stronger the smell of humans became. The smell of death became stronger.

Before finding the dismembered corpse of the first hunter, she found several piles of ash and drops of blood scattered across the floor of the rooms she passed. Based on the amount of ash she found on her way, the hunters had not only taken the vampires by surprise, but they were well trained and in sufficient numbers to commit that massacre. From the amount of ash, she knew that few of hers were still alive.

One of the hunters saw her when she came out of a room and charged at her brandishing a long, bone-white wooden stake. Driven by fury, she easily disarmed him, ripped out his arm and heart, and threw his lifeless body away. As she advanced, Daenerys killed those who had dared to invade and defile her home.

Following Aemon's scent, she reached the surface of the refuge and the scene before her petrified her. There was a sea of ash and torn human bodies and Daenerys found her husband in time to see a hunter driving a stake through his chest, piercing his heart. His red eyes met hers as Aemon fell to his knees and then his body gave way and he fell to the ground. That image woke her up and, in a reflex, she went to the hunter and ripped his head off, causing his blood to gush over her and the injured vampire on the floor .

A trickle of blood ran from between his lips and the destroyed shirt revealed the severity of the injury. Dany knelt beside him, ignoring the headless corpse of the hunter who had wounded him, her hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline and the fear, the absolute dread of losing him. His gray eyes met hers and she could see that he was calm, unafraid, as if he had been waiting for this moment his entire existence.

Swallowing her despair, she held his cold hands and could feel the rapid beating of his heart trying to heal the wound. But as old and strong as Aemon was, this was a mortal wound.

He knew that.

She knew that.

There was nothing he or she could do to save him.

“Please don’t leave me.” she begged, even though she knew there was no hope. “I love you.”

He gave her a smile. “My Dany.” he said in a faint whisper “I will always love you.”

She squeezed his hands, wishing she had the power to save him. “I can’t do this without you, my love.” she said with teary eyes and a choked voice. “I can’t face eternity without you.”

“No matter where I am, I will always look for a way to come back to you.” he promised and squeezed her hands back in a weak grip. A farewell.

Dany pressed her lips gently against his and memorized the feeling of his lips against hers, as she knew this would be the last time. He smiled and whispered her name against her lips for the last time. She felt the moment his heart stopped and watched her beloved's body shudder before an intense light turned him to ash.

He was never coming back.

She would never see him again.

Daenerys looked at the ashes in her hands and felt her heart breaking into thousands of pieces. She let the tears fall, let her pain spill out, and screamed until there was only a painful emptiness left in her chest.

Ignoring the danger that both the remaining hunters and the sun posed, she stayed there, lying on his ashes, cataloging in her mind every detail about him and only emerged from her grief when she felt something rough scrape against her skin. Part of her wished it was some hunter who had returned to finish the job and she could join Aemon. But another part identified it as the licking of some animal and she opened her eyes. Before her was a n albino direwolf staring at her with his unnervingly beautiful red eyes. His muzzle and part of his fur were stained with blood.

This was a sight that was not only frightening but rare. D irewolves were northern animals and were rarely seen in that region. Seeing him made her feel both devastated and comforted. When she first met Aemon and they were both still human, he was accompanied by an albino direwolf he called Ghost.

“What are you doing so far from home?” she asked in a voice hoarse from screaming and crying.

They looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds and something moved in her peripheral vision. There were more direwolves of different colors, sizes and ages feasting on the flesh of her family's killers. The albino direwolf continued to watch her while his companions ripped the meat from the bones of the corpses and it was only after all the members of his pack had eaten, that the albino direwolf moved and followed them out of the refuge.

When night came, Daenerys got up and wandered the castle in search of any survivors from her coven, but there was only her. Accompanied by the emptiness in her chest and the image of her Aemon turning to ash, she walked to the shore of the Gods Eye lake and dove in. When she emerged from its icy waters, Daenerys knew what she would do next: she would take revenge. She would hunt and kill all the hunters who attacked her family until there were none left.

It wasn't a difficult task to track them down since their scent was engraved in her mind. So, she spent the next few weeks hunting down the people who killed her family and making sure to eliminate every vampire hunter she came across wherever she went. She had lost her coven, but she wouldn't let other vampires go through what she had. It wasn't long before she became a kind of myth among the smallfolk and villagers and was known as the 'silver death'.

Devastated by grief, she didn't want to join another coven again and didn't have the courage to create another vampire. With her revenge over and suffocated by memories of her past with her husband, she decided to leave Westeros behind and moved to Essos with the promise of never returning.

For years Dany wandered that continent alone. She spent her time learning about the customs, culture, politics, language, and history of each people who inhabited Essos. She tried to fill that hole in her chest with blood and taking a few lovers both vampire and human. Unconsciously, she always ended up taking into her bed men who had something that reminded her of Aemon, the same long face, the same brown hair, the same gray eyes, the same timbre of voice, the same shape of lips. She looked for Aemon in every face she saw and, instead of being able to heal herself, she only increased her suffering.

The only thing that came close to filling that void was her new family.

First she found Missandei. She was just a nine-year-old little girl and was being auctioned off in a sex slave market. That night, Dany spared only the slaves and tore each of the slave-traders and slave owners to pieces. Missandei was the only one who wasn't afraid of what she was and, even though she was covered in blood and guts while breaking the chains that kept the humans prisoner, the little girl smiled and asked to stay with her. The little girl hugged her when she agreed to stay with her, and for the first time in decades, Daenerys Targaryen smiled.

Having a human life in her charge was more of a blessing than a burden. Caring for Missandei gave her a new focus, it reminded her what it was like to have a family. With Missandei by her side, Dany felt that her heart, shattered by Aemon's death, began to mend itself and the love she felt for the little human not only filled part of the void but also kept her warm, kept her own humanity alive.

On her twentieth birthday Missandei asked her to be transformed. Her dear daughter had a speech ready and a list of arguments to convince her. A few months later, Dany gave in and transformed her. The two wandered for a few years and the smell of blood and death drew them to the outskirts of a city that had recently been attacked. Among the corpses they found a boy at death's door. They took him with them to their home and cared for him until he fully recovered.

The boy told them the name his owners had given him, told them his story. Gray Worm had been captured and sold when he was still a baby and trained as an Unsullied soldier. He had no memory of his homeland or his life before being an Unsullied. A total of two thousand Unsullied including him had been sold to that city and they faced a Dothraki horde that threatened the city and wanted gifts in exchange for being left alone. He was ready to die, knowing that in death he would finally be free and he begged them not to sell him, not to force him to return to that life. They promised him he was free to do whatever he wanted and told him how they found him.

Inevitably, they told him what they were and, despite his surprise and fright, he chose to join them. The night Dany turned him, he chose a new name and was reborn as Basil Gray. The three became a family and it didn't take long for Missandei and Gray to fall in love.

Together they traveled through Essos and Sothoryos, visited Naath and the Summer Islands, and lived in various locations. Together with her children, Daenerys witnessed history being written over the years and even influenced and interfered in some events that caused significant and lasting changes, such as the end of slavery in Slaver's Bay.

Despite still feeling the emptiness caused by the loss of Aemon, she lived in relative peace with her children and centuries passed before she was forced to break her promise to never return to Westeros.

Things changed the night the red comet appeared in the sky. She was hunting alone near one of several nomad camps in the Dothraki Sea when she saw the red comet crossing the night sky for the first time. Its light was so strong that it was possible to see it crossing the sky even during the day.

Daenerys couldn't help but think about how it was during the appearance of that same comet a few centuries ago that she and Aemon had first met. Seeing the comet again caused her an inexplicable and uncontrollable desire to return to Westeros. It was as if there was a thread tied to her heart and the other end was on the other side of the sea and someone was constantly tugging at it, trying to get her attention, trying to convince her to leave everything behind and return to her true home.

She tried to ignore it for weeks, but with each passing night the more intense the comet's light became, the more that tug intensified, the more she was consumed by the overwhelming need to return. Knowing she wouldn't find peace until she went to Westeros, Dany told her children about her decision and her family, of course, refused to stay behind.

Returning to Westeros was strange, but she felt relief at seeing that place again and the feeling of someone pulling the string lessened. After she and her children settled into their new home, Dany allowed herself to explore the streets she had walked alongside Aemon guided by the sensation of the thread, which seemed to pull her somewhere close to the historic center of King's Landing.

A lot had changed since she last saw and walked through King's Landing, but there were still historic buildings like the Red Keep and the dragon pit, some forges and inns and, of course, the pavement, remained the same. As she journeyed through the painful and precious memories of her past, a smell that Dany had thought she would never smell again filled her nostrils. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, her broken heart filling with hope as she remembered that that smell belonged to her beloved Aemon.

Without thinking, she began to follow the scent, walking hurriedly through the streets as the scent became stronger, more concentrated and the thread seemed to pull her in the same direction. It was only when she started walking down a busier street that she remembered that it was impossible for that to be Aemon's scent. Each person had a unique scent, and since he had been dead for centuries, any trace of his scent had long since disappeared.

Her memory must be playing tricks on her.

It was impossible that that was his scent.

But even so, she continued walking, following the scent, following the thread. She was close, so close she could almost taste it on her tongue.

The smell took her to a restaurant and she entered without hesitation. Her body froze when she heard the sound of his voice and her eyes scanned the place and the people around her for something that she knew was impossible, but that didn't make it any less expected.

She felt the thread give a tug when her eyes fell on a face that was engraved in her memory: long and solemn face, dark brown hair and gray eyes.

She was looking at Aemon's face.

"Impossible." she whispered.

Dany had held him as he died, she had seen him turn to ash, but still he was there before her.

Smiling.

Talking.

Breathing.

Alive.

It was impossible.

Aemon, her Aemon, was dead.

But even though it was impossible, there he was. The same voice. The same smell. The same face. The same eyes that had looked at her full of love and desire. The same hair she used to spend hours playing with, stroking, washing off the blood after a hunt , brushing out of his face while they made love. The same body that she had known as thoroughly as her own, the same body that had been her refuge, her shelter, her home .

Dany felt her body shudder as those familiar gray eyes met hers. He held her gaze for just a few seconds and her heart ached when she realized he hadn't recognized her.

But of course he wouldn't recognize her. Despite their impossible similarity, that stranger was just that, a stranger.

She forced herself to stop looking at him when a girl with the same brown hair as him and sitting next to him at the table caught his attention to show him something on her cell phone. She forced herself to move, she forced herself to leave that place, she forced herself to move away, she forced herself to ignore his scent that insisted on following her as if he himself were following her, she forced herself to ignore the insistent tug of the thread, she forced herself not to look back, because if she looked back, she would be lost. She forced herself to go back to her home, to her children and forced herself to act normally. There was no reason to worry them about that matter.

Daenerys tried to force herself to forget what she had seen, what had happened. She recalled over and over again the moment Aemon had turned to ash right before her eyes. But even so, she couldn't stop thinking about the stranger. She couldn't stop thinking about all those similarities and coincidences. She couldn't ignore the thread that, she now knew, was pulling her toward him. She couldn't ignore the hope that had blossomed in her heart.

She tried not to go back to that part of town, but she failed.

Just three nights later she found herself walking down the same street again, all her senses attentive to the smell and the sound of his voice. Night after night she returned to that part of town until she saw the girl he was with through the restaurant window and realized that she probably worked there.

Unable to contain herself, she went in and sat at one of the tables closest to the windows. She looked at the menu that was on the table and a few minutes later, the girl came to serve her and Dany couldn't help but notice the similarity between her and the stranger. Or, as she had begun to call him in her mind, not-Aemon.

Knowing she couldn't eat any of that human food and that they certainly didn't serve human blood, Dany ordered coffee and toast. That would be enough for her to go unnoticed and have the chance to observe the girl and the place for a while. And maybe, if she was lucky, not-Aemon would appear there too.

But what were the chances that he would appear there? She didn't know, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and leave without first allowing herself to wait for him for a while.

While waiting for her order, her eyes scanned the place and she saw the girl talking on her cell phone and staring at her. The moment their eyes met, the girl smiled and continued her conversation.

Curious, Dany looked away and focused her hearing on her and heard her say “…just hold her here, Jon!”

The girl heard the answer and gave a resigned sigh and replied “I know.” and she listened to him once more before saying in an impatient tone “Just come here as fast as you can. I have to get back to work.”

Dany took her cell phone out of her pocket and pretended she was reading something. Could it be that the person the girl was talking to, that Jon guy, was the person she so desperately wanted to see? From the way the girl had looked at her as she spoke, Dany was almost sure he was.

“Here is your order.” said the girl, placing the coffee and toast on the table and Dany pretended that she had been distracted and had been taken by surprise by her arrival.

“Oh, thank you!” she said with a grateful smile.

“Can I help you with anything else?”

“Yes, I would like some water, please...” she replied and read the name on the name tag on her uniform before adding “Mia.”

“Actually, my name is Arya.” she corrected in a conspiratorial tone and Dany frowned. “I'm covering for my friend Mia for a few days.”

Dany smiled “She’s lucky to have a friend like you.” she said and, before she could stop herself, added “My name is Daenys Targaryen.”

Arya's eyes widened and she gave her a huge smile. “Like Daenys, the Dreamer?”

“Yes. My name was chosen as a tribute to her.”

Arya nodded and asked “Are you from here or just visiting?”

“A bit of both.” she replied “I was born in Dragonstone, grew up in the free cities and only came to Westeros when I was sixteen. I was living in Meereen and moved here recently.”

“Welcome back.” she said with a friendly smile “I’ll go get the rest of your order and be right back.”

Arya didn't have the opportunity to continue questioning her when she returned with her water, as she had to attend to the other tables, so Dany sipped her coffee while pretending to be interested in something on her phone and occasionally taking small bites of toast. Her stomach wasn't too happy with what she was swallowing, but this wasn't the first time she had to pretend to be human and she knew that once she threw it all up, she would be fine.

His scent hit her like a wrecking ball at the same time the string tugged at her heart. Her attention turned to the restaurant door and she saw him walking in and waving to Arya. Then the girl gestured toward her with her head and he looked over and started scanning the tables. She was right. Jon was the stranger.

Their eyes met and this time, there was something different in his gaze. Not exactly recognition, but a mix of relief, anxiety and hope. Dany looked back at the cell phone, her heart racing like that of a scared human, and followed his approach with her peripheral vision and hearing, feeling that the string seemed to pull him towards her.

“Excuse me, Miss.” he said in a nervous tone and her heart almost opened a hole in her chest when she heard Aemon's voice after so many centuries. She forced herself to act like a human would normally react when approached by another human.

“Yes?” she asked, her expression neutral.

He gave her a nervous smile before continuing, “I'm sorry for bothering you, but I have to ask, have you and I met before?”

You are the exact copy of the love of my life, but I know you are not him. No matter how much I wish with all my strength that you were him, I know it's impossible., she wanted to respond, but stopped herself.

For a few seconds she studied his familiar face. The only thing different about Aemon's face was the absence of the scar over his eye.

“No, but you look extremely familiar.” she heard herself respond.

He nodded slowly, “You also look extremely familiar. I saw you here a few nights ago and I knew I knew you, but I couldn't remember when or where.” he explained “I wanted to talk to you that night and I even went after you and tried to catch up with you, but you disappeared as quickly as you appeared. So I asked my sister to let me know if she saw you around here again.” he looked over to where Arya was taking an order.

So the two were siblings. This explained the similarity between them.

He looked back at her and continued, “I know this sounds weird and scary, but I swear I'm not stalking you or trying to do you any harm.”

Even against her better judgment, even knowing that she should get up and leave and never return to that place again, even knowing that she could end up even more hurt from that situation, Dany pointed to the chair in front of her and he sat down with a relieved expression.

“I confess that I am intrigued. Hmmm… you didn’t tell your name.”

“It’s Jon. Jon Snow.”

“Daenys Targaryen.”

He looked at her as if something was wrong. “Daenys?” he repeated. “It feels both wrong and familiar.”

“Really?” she asked curious about his comment and he nodded “Do you know someone called Aemon?” she ventured.

“Aemon.” he repeated and she nodded “It also feels familiar and wrong at the same time. Like a piece of clothing that once belonged to me, but no longer fits.” he explained “Do you know any Aemon that looks like me?”

"I did." she replied and, before she could stop herself, added “He was taken from me a long time ago.”

“Was he a member of your family?”

“He was my…” she began and felt a lump forming in her throat “He was my best friend, my confidant, my companion. He was my everything.”

“I'm so sorry.” he said and then he handed her the bottle of water on the table and she accepted it.

“Do you think we met in another life?” he asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Do you believe in other lives?” she asked, trying to escape giving him an answer that she didn't even know what it was.

“I didn’t believe in other lives, but that changed the night I saw you.” he replied.

She motioned for Arya to bring her her bill and saw Jon tense up. She looked him in the eyes before asking “It’s a pleasant autumn evening, Jon Snow. What do you think we continue this conversation while walking along the shore?”

Relief filled his familiar gray eyes and his smile sent shivers through her body.

“I would love to.”

About half an hour later they were walking side by side along the shore, the red comet shining above them and the thread seemed to have accomplished its mission and stopped pulling on her. She had asked him questions about his family and his life and answered the ones he had asked her. Now they walked in comfortable silence and had reached a more deserted part of the shore.

“You didn’t answer my question.” he said, breaking the silence.

“Which one?”

“Do you think we met in another life?”

“Do you think I believe in other lives?”

"Do you?"

“I didn’t, but that changed the night I saw you.” she replied using his words.

The two were silent once more and she could see he was working up the courage to tell her something, so she waited.

A few minutes later she heard him ask “Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone you’ve never met? Loving someone you don't even know really exists? Someone who was always in your memories even though you never met them?” he took a deep breath before continuing “Ever since that comet appeared months ago I felt something, as if there was a thread tied to my heart and it was being insistently pulled, as if it was trying to take me somewhere, to someone.”

She looked at him, surprised by his words, to hear that he had felt the same as her, and he was looking at the comet above them. Jon stopped and she did the same and looked at him as he continued “The feeling became more urgent as the days passed and it only lessened as I walked through the city, my steps being guided by the thread and it always brought me to the seaside. Until, weeks ago, the sense of urgency subsided. And then a few nights ago, I felt a tug and there you were.”

Jon looked at her and his gray eyes studied her face for a few seconds before continuing “I know this all sounds crazy, but…” he took a deep breath once again “I remember you. And I spent my whole life thinking you were just a beautiful dream, an illusion, a figment of my imagination, as unreachable as a distant star, but you are real. You are here within my reach.” he gave her a smile. “I spent my whole life looking for you and I need to tell you how relieved I am to have found you.”

That took her by surprise and he continued, “I remember you more vividly than I can remember my own life. I have had memories of you for as long as I can remember and I have looked for you everywhere, I have looked for you in every woman who has crossed my path. I remember your eyes. I remember spending hours watching your hair being illuminated by the moonlight. I remember braiding your hair. I remember things that don't even make sense, like..." he hesitated and took a deep breath “I remember the feeling of my lips on your skin. I remember kissing you. How can this be possible?” he looked into her eyes for a few seconds before adding “I’ve been in love with you my whole life.”

His words, his declaration of love caught her by surprise and she looked away. The two fell silent once again and her mind filled with memories of her life with Aemon. The first time she had seen him. Their first kiss. The first time they gave themselves to each other. In a way, she was also in love with Jon or, at least, projecting onto him the feelings she had for her husband.

“Please tell me something. Anything.” he begged.

“I have memories too, Jon.” she said after a few seconds of hesitation “Memories that are my most precious treasure. Memories that kept me alive at the same time that they were the source of all my suffering.”

He surprised her when he held her hand and gently caressed its back, just like her Aemon used to do and the feelings caused by that gesture were as intense as she remembered. She looked into his eyes and heard herself confessing, “I think I'm in love with you too and I'm terrified.”

She had spent centuries looking for Aemon in other men, and now that she had found someone who looked like him, she didn't know what to do, what to say. She was absolutely terrified of the possibility of falling back in love with someone and losing them again.

Jon pressed her palm against his chest before saying “I am too. Until a few nights ago I believed you weren’t real and now I found you.” he rested his free hand on your cheek, a gesture so familiar it made her heart ache. “But if you want too, I’d love to see where this goes.”

Yes!, she wanted to respond, but Daenerys remembered what she was. She remembered what he was and what he would have to give up to be with her.

“I can't be with you, Jon. I'm sorry, but I need to go.” she said taking a step away from him and started to walk away from him.

“Dany, please don’t go.” he asked in a hopeful tone and she felt herself freeze.

She turned to face him “What did you call me?”

“Dany.” he repeated with a hopeful smile “It’s the name that always came to mind when I thought of you.” he explained “Dany. My Dany.”

Before she could think about what she was doing, Dany had her lips pressing against his, her arms wrapped around his neck. His arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her body even closer to his, and intensifying their kiss.

In that kiss Daenerys felt that she had found her home again after being lost for centuries. She was so intoxicated by the sensation, so caught up in the delicious, familiar feeling of his arms around her and his mouth devouring hers, that she only remembered that she was kissing a human and that she should be careful when she felt the taste of his blood filling her mouth.

Immediately she could feel the thirst burning in her throat, her fangs growing, her predatory instinct trying to take control. Jon let out a moan of pain and surprise, broke their kiss and when he looked into her eyes, she saw his face fill with fear and then shock.

She knew exactly what he was seeing: her violet eyes were now red and her fangs were visible above her lips stained with his blood. She was a frightening sight and she couldn't blame him for his reaction. In fact, she was lucky he didn't run away screaming. She felt her hope being shattered as he released her and took a step, then another away from her.

“What are you?” he asked, running his fingers over his injured lip.

Dany closed her eyes and took a deep breath to control herself. When she opened her eyes, Jon was still staring at her with fear and doubt in his gray eyes. Without taking her eyes off his, she licked the blood from her lips before saying, “I told you I couldn't be with you, Jon. Goodbye.”

She turned around again with the intention of leaving, her heart breaking again, but Jon, once again, stopped her. He held her hand and said in a soft tone “Please stay. I don’t want you to leave me behind.”

She looked him in the eyes and there was sincerity in them, as well as a good amount of fear. “I can hear your heart racing and I can smell your fear, Jon.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t afraid.”

She watched him for a few seconds. Jon was scared, but he was also sincere in saying that he wanted her to stay.

“As you've just seen, I'm a monster, Jon. A vampire. I feed on humans like you to continue existing.” she explained in a serious tone and looked away at the comet above them. “I still taste your blood in my mouth and part of me wants me to rip out your throat and drink every last drop from your veins.”

“Yes, I want you to stay.” he replied “And now that I’ve seen what you are, many of my memories make sense.” Jon placed a trembling hand on her cheek and stroked it gently before continuing “I remember how exciting it was to hunt. Dany, I remember licking the blood off your skin. I remember drinking other people's blood with you by my side.” she stared at him with her mouth open. “So, this can only mean that, in my other life, I was also a vampire and that I met you, right?”

“Even if that were possible, you are a human now and I am still a monster.” she said in a whisper against his chest “You have a family and friends, you have a whole life ahead of you and I couldn’t ask you to give up all of that for my sake, for the sake of a monster.”

He watched her for a few seconds before saying “I know you would never hurt me on purpose.”

She nodded. No, she would never hurt him.

He gave her a sweet smile before adding, “And monster or not, I will always have those feelings for you.” Jon gave her a sincere smile before asking in a soft tone “How did he die? Your Aemon.”

That question took her by surprise, but she replied “A group of hunters invaded our coven during the day and only I survived.” she felt a lump forming in her throat and stopped. He saw Jon placing his other hand over his heart and forced herself to continue “One of the hunters drove a stake through his heart and I couldn't do anything to save him. So I held him in my arms until he turned to ashes.”

As always, remembering that filled her with pain. Jon pulled her to him, hugged her and she wished she could stay locked in that hug forever, but she couldn't.

“I couldn’t bear to go through all that again.” she said against his chest.

He looked into her eyes for a few seconds and she could see her pain reflected in his eyes. Dany didn't stop him when Jon kissed her and only broke the kiss long enough to whisper against her lips “I've been looking for you my whole life, Dany. I felt finally whole the moment our lips touched.”

He kissed her slowly, and although she could still taste the delicious taste of his blood on her tongue, she held back so as not to hurt him again. Jon, however, kissed her enthusiastically and she ended up letting herself go. But this time it was her blood that filled their mouths, and when she tried to break the kiss, Jon held her even tighter against him. She knew she was strong enough to break away from him if she wanted to, but she didn't want to. He looked at her with hungry eyes as their lips parted and gave her a smile as bright as the sun.

“Daenerys!” he whispered and kissed her again with renewed enthusiasm.

Intoxicated by his kisses, it took her a few seconds to realize what he had said, what name he had called her.

Daenerys.

Her real name.

The name she hadn't told Jon.

Dany broke the kiss and looked him in the eyes.

She swallowed hard before asking “What did you call me?”

He smiled and gave her a mischievous smile before replying “Daenerys.”

She stared at him open-mouthed “But how…”

“I remember.” he said, interrupting her. “I remember everything.”

For a few seconds, she just looked at him as her brain understood the meaning of his words.

I remember everything.

So that meant…

Could she believe it?

Was it even possible?

Could she afford to hope that…

“Aemon?” she whispered with a mix of hope and fear.

He nodded slowly “My Dany.” he whispered and placed a sweet, soft kiss on her lips before looking into her eyes and adding “I said I would find a way to get back to you, didn’t I?” Dany nodded, her eyes filled with tears, and he hugged her and placed a soft kiss on her hair. “I came back to you, Dany. My heart is yours, I am yours for all eternity.”

He kissed her passionately and Daenerys Targaryen felt her heart becoming whole again.

Her love had found his way back to her and they had an entire eternity ahead of them.

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springdandelixn · 2 years

Text

Je te vois - Finale

Dark!Jorah x Daenerys

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41178564/chapters/103407948

Warnings: Story contains rape/noncon elements. Jorah is the bad guy. Please proceed with caution if that is not your cup of tea.

This chapter was inspired by darkficsyouneveraskedfor’s prompt "I knew the moment I saw you."

Part One

The week passes by in a buzz and Daenerys couldn’t be happier to finally leave the company.

She received the contract from Blackbird Publishing the very next day after the party and after seeing how much they were willing to pay her just for an internship. She immediately sent a scanned copy of the signed contract and squealed in delight in her living room, jumping up and down in celebration.

But what drives her, even more, to be excited about leaving is that she won’t see Lynesse and Peggy any longer who’s made it a routine to pass by her cubicle every day since they came back from the party and blab about meaningless hearsay about her relationship with Jorah.

She knew people would start talking, it was impossible for them not to be seen together. They were so close to one another and Lynesses saw it first hand. She doesn’t doubt they saw him kiss her hand too as well as waited with her for her Uber at the entrance of the hotel after she declined his offer to take her home himself.

“We’re just friends.” She tells them in sheer annoyance while typing aimlessly at her computer, a poor attempt into ignoring and tuning them out.

“ Friends? ” Lynesse scoffs while Peggy mimics her like some parrot. When did they even become friends? “Who would want to be friends with you?” They both laugh at her face, her fists closing tightly as she tries to steady her breathing and prevent herself from bursting.

“For all we know you’re fucking the boss so you won’t be some lousy assistant any—”

“Who’s fucking the boss?”

Daenerys’ eyes widen in shock when she hears Jorah’s voice over theirs, looking up from her screen and seeing him standing behind them, a wide smile on his face while he stares down at the two girls when they turn to face him.

“Mr. Mormont—!” Peggy stammers, her body shivering as she looks down in complete embarrassment.

“Do continue with your story,” Jorah says with sarcasm, leaning his hip against the cubicle wall and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m quite curious to know who our dear Ms. Targaryen is sleeping with, so she won’t be a lousy assistant any longer.” He says with ridicule.

Both girls stay quiet, their heads pointed at their feet as they fidget in place. And Daenerys can’t even feel sorry for them even if she tried. They’ve been harassing her all week, taunting her and hounding her, asking her embarrassing questions that she doesn’t even have answers to, the answers that they’re looking for.

“Ms. Hightower?” Jorah drones, his hand casually resting on his waist. “Correct me if I’m wrong but you’re not in this department, am I right?”

“Correct, Sir.” Lynesse whispers, the woman visibly wincing when Jorah hums audibly, the sound echoing throughout the floor.

“Then please kindly tell me why you’re here and not at your desk, working.” Daenerys senses the bite in Jorah’s words, turning her head to face her monitor once again, not wanting to see the anger bubbling up within him. “It’s not even lunch break.”

“I—I don’t know,” Lynesse mumbles, seeing her eyes tear up from her periphery.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Jorah mocks. “Because funny enough I know why you’re here.” His voice tightening in anger as he adds. “You’re here because you came to harass Ms. Targaryen who, as I can see from where I stand,” Jorah’s eyes dart to her for a quick second before facing both women once again. “is trying to do her job. You’re here because your life is so meaningless and dull that you have to fill it with petty lies and gossip to get the satisfaction that you exist and are better than anyone in this working environment. But most of all,” He stops mid-sentence and Daenerys can feel him smirking as she spies the two women standing stock still in their place, their mouths slack from Jorah’s wrath. “You’re here because it saves me the time to go to your stations and dismiss you both from your jobs.”

“What?!” Lynesse and Peggy say in unison, the latter already bursting into tears as she covers her face from humiliation. Daenerys gasps in shock and looks up at the two girls and then at Jorah, his blue eyes swimming in fury, his eyes completely focused on his target.

“You heard me. You’re both fired.” Jorah says with finality, his back going straight as he stands upright once more, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I will not tolerate such toxic behavior in my company nor will I allow you both to continue harassing other employees with your bullshit lies and accusations.”

“But—Mr. Mormont—” Lynesse tries to rebuttal, tears freely falling from her face, but comes out empty, her head turning to the crying girl beside her. “It was Peggy’s fault!” She points at the other girl. “She told me to come here!” She says in a rush, Peggy looking up at the blonde girl with pure betrayal on her face.

“Enough!” Jorah roars, making both women cower and everyone on the floor either looking at them in shock or hiding in fear, including her. “I will not hear anymore of your excuses! Pack up your desks and leave the premises immediately! If I don’t hear from your superiors that you’ve already left the building in the next 30 minutes, I will have security drag you out. Do I make myself clear?”

They both nod and scurry back into their workstations, the cries of Peggy echoing throughout the office space. She doesn’t even dare to look at her and see if she would actually pack up her stuff and go, not when Jorah continues to stand by her spot, his eyes stoic as he looks around the office, every head who’s witnessed the gruesome exchange looking down to busy themselves with their work, not wanting to offend their president.

“Ms. Targaryen.” Daenerys winces when he whispers her name, peeking up from her lashes, and seeing him still facing the room. “I want to see you in my office at noon sharp. Understood?” Jorah instructs and doesn’t wait for her answer before walking down the corridor and to Tyrion’s office.

She releases the breath she’s been holding when she hears the door close, her head bowing down as she feels a wave of desolation rush over her. She knew Jorah to be strict, heck, every executive in the company was but it was in good faith that they were, to keep a good balance of work and play in the office. But not once has she seen him angry, she doesn’t even think anyone has seen him that furious for she’s never heard anyone say anything about his temper. Only praises of how a good boss Jorah Mormont is. But after that display, she doubts anyone would ever say he’s perfect. She doubts anyone would even open their mouth at all.

Daenerys looks up from her feet when the elevator dings, signaling her arrival on the top floor. No one else aside from Jorah and his assistant, Samwell, stays on this level, the space igniting the inevitable nervousness at the pit of her stomach as only the sound of her heels clicking against the marble surface and the typing on Samwell’s keyboard fills the void.

She didn’t hear from Jorah any longer after the fiasco at her department. No emails nor calls to help assure her that she’s in the clear from what happened. Not that she was expecting any but she can’t shake away the feeling that he’ll be doing the same thing he did to those girls with her when she steps into his office.

I don’t have to be afraid. I did nothing wrong. She tells herself but it does little to boost her confidence in facing the CEO. If anything, it just solidified her anxiety and her conclusion that Jorah was going to fire her for being the reason for such drama in the office. But it shouldn’t matter, right? Even if he does fire her, she’ll be leaving the company in a week to begin her career as a photographer. But what if he revokes his endorsement? What if he tells Petyr that she’s a troublemaker? She doesn’t even know what mood Jorah would be in when she sees him. Will he still be fuming? Will he shout at her? The negativity continues to pile up in her head, her heart pounding loudly against her chest, making her breathe heavily and stumble as she stops by Samwell’s desk.

“Oh, Daenerys,” Samwell chirps when he looks up from his monitor, Daenerys giving him a small wave. “Have a seat. I’ll let Mr. Mormont know that you’re here.”

She squeaks a soft ‘thank you’ and occupies the middle seat on the waiting bench across Samwell’s desk, placing her purse atop her lap. Not too close and not too far. A perfect angle to gauge the atmosphere in the room.

The typing resumes from Samwell’s end and Daenerys can’t help but fidget in anticipation in her seat. She grabs her phone and presses a button to bring the screen to life. 11:55 AM. She’s early and it makes her sigh, thinking that she could have come a bit later to lessen the waiting time and the fear that completely overcomes her.

“Mr. Mormont is ready to see you now,” Samwell announces, the sound of his chair rolling back as he stands from his desk filling her ears, Daenerys standing along with him and inhaling deeply when she walks with him to the door. Samwell knocks lightly on it 3 times before pushing the wooden barrier open and ushering her in.

She doesn’t hear a response when he announces her presence, her heart jumps in her throat when the door closes with a light click, Daenerys swallows thickly as she scans the modernly decorated office space that’s big enough to fit 3 conference rooms and stops at the floor-to-ceiling window when she sees Jorah standing in front of it, his eyes already locked on her and a grin on his face while holding an old-fashioned glass that’s half filled with amber liquid.

“Darling,” Jorah’s voice cuts through the silence and Daenerys forces a smile as she takes a tentative step forward. “You made it. Please, have a seat.” He gestures to the L-shaped couch facing the windows.

“I—I didn’t want to disappoint you.” She says in a soft voice as she walks toward him, angling herself when she reaches the couch and takes a seat in the middle just as he instructed. And it gives Daenerys a slight sense of ease to see that Jorah is back in his usual calm mood. He called me Darling. That’s a good sign, right?

“I know you would never disappoint me.” She notices how his grin turns playful as he says those words, her eyes darting forward to look at the skyline of London on display before them instead of his eyes. “How are you feeling?” The question takes her by surprise.

“Okay, I guess,” She mumbles, her hands fidgeting on the strap of her purse from the nervouness clawing at her throat. She then bursts into tears as she balls her fists tight. “Mr. Mormont—I am so sorry.” She begins, the tears immediately flowing down her cheeks. “I kept telling them to stop and I kept telling the truth, that we’re just friends and they wouldn’t believe me. They just wouldn’t no matter how much I tell them. Then—when—you saw them and I should have just told them off but—but—” She chokes and wipes her tears away harshly with her palm, feeling her make-up smudge on her skin and her hand. The tension is just too much for her to handle and the fear that she’s disrupted the company’s peace weighing heavily on her shoulders. That what happened with Lynesse and Peggy was her fault and that it has jeopardized any chances she has to fulfill her dreams. “Please—Please don’t revoke your recommendation to Mr. Baelish. I’ll stay an extra month until you find replacements for the vacant posts. I’ll—I’ll—”

“Daenerys,” Her rambling breaks off when she hears the strength in Jorah’s voice, looking up at the man with a deep frown on her face, her tears continuously rolling down her cheek with the droplets making their way to her hands. “I want you to relax. I’m not revoking anything.” He says calmly before a light chuckle leaves his lips. “I didn’t call you here to scold you.”

“You didn’t?” She asks as she sniffles.

“No,” A low laugh echoes through the office, Jorah’s chest rumbling as he does. “I called you here because I wanted to give you something.” His hand holding the glass then stretches and gestures towards the box she hadn’t noticed when she walked in sitting on the coffee table in front of her wrapped in black paper with a red ribbon laying on top of it. “That’s yours.”

“I—” She blinks fast and eyes the box before looking back up at her boss. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s alright,” Jorah says as he places the glass atop the coffee table, striding back on his desk and taking a box of tissues that he sets beside the mysterious gift. “Calm yourself down first then you may open it.”

She nods and pulls out several tissues from the box and shyly wipes her face dry, the frown deepening even further when she sees her foundation and mascara smear on it, trying her best to clear whatever residue is left. A gasp then leaves her lips when she feels the tissues being snatched from her hand, Jorah now taking a seat beside her and taking hold of her chin, tilting her head back to face him before wiping her face himself.

She sees his eyes boring into her, the blues turning darker by the minute as if he’s staring into her soul. A low rumble then sounds from his throat when he runs the tissue against her lip, his thumb following suit as he runs the pad against it, the smirk on his lips making itself known once again.

“You look beautiful, Darling, even after crying.” She hears Jorah say and Daenerys breaks their eye contact, looking down as much as she could, refusing to look up at him as she feels her cheeks heat from the comment. “And what happened with those girls was not your fault.” He says with a nod. “I told you before, I will not hesitate to fire anyone who spreads ill rumors in my company.”

She does remember. Back at the party; His words firm and sure of what he was to do if anyone dared to speak lies about him.

She keeps her head down and nods when he releases her, the soiled tissue sheets balled up and tossed carelessly onto the coffee table. The black mystery box is now placed on her lap and Daenerys reaches up to run her finger against the glittering ribbon.

“Go on.” Jorah urges. “Open it. And I hope you like it.”

She peeks up at him once and takes a breath, peeling the ribbon off and placing it down on the couch before carefully unwrapping the tape off on each side, unfolding the paper, not wanting to ruin the delicate wrapping. Her eyes then grow wide when the paper drapes off on her lap, revealing the brand new DSLR camera staring back at her.

“I—Jorah,” She hiccups, looking up to see him staring at her once again, this time, a soft smile playing on his lips. “This is for me?” This can’t be real.

“Well I don’t see anyone else here but the two of us,” Daenerys couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his joke.

“But why?” She asks, her hands skimming against the box and pushing the flap open to pull the camera out of the box, confirming the gift to be real.

“I wanted you to have a good start on your first day, next week.” He says as a matter-of-fact. How does he know that? “Petyr went ahead and told me when you were starting, so I went and picked this up. I wasn’t sure if you already had one but if you do, now you have two, but I sincerely hope that you would use this one more.”

“I—I don’t know what to say,” Daenerys whispers as she runs her thumb against the body of the camera.

She’s always wanted one of these. To allow her to take pictures professionally and not through her phone or a borrowed camera from the library. But with all the bills she had to pay, even a debt that isn’t even hers but her stupid brother’s, the paycheck of an assistant was just barely enough to have her skim by each day.

And now she has one but she doesn’t understand why Jorah would go out of his way to get her such an expensive gift. She does have a hunch, with the pet name and the way he acts around her but chooses not to dwell on it. To not entertain it. A boss cannot harbor feelings for their subordinates. It’s against company policy. And even if he did, that she continues to convince herself that he doesn’t, she cannot entertain as such with Jon in her life. Yes, she would want Jon to be similar to Jorah in terms of attention but no—it can’t be. They are simply friends and he’s just being kind. But do friends even gift each other items that are over 4 digits? Jon wouldn’t even think about giving her one, yet this man did and it makes her question, “Why?”

“Why what? Don’t you like the gift?”

“No, I love it.” She mutters, “But I don’t understand why you would give me something like this. This is too much, Jorah. I—I’m just your employee.”

“And a good one.” He affirms, his leg crossing over his knee as he leans back against the couch, his arm stretched over the back. “And I believe that good employees, obedient employees, deserve rewards. Don’t you?”

“I—I don’t know.” She sighs and runs her finger against the lens. “I don’t think I can accept this.”

“You can and you will.” The sudden anger in his voice takes her by surprise, seeing Jorah’s lips set into a thin line when she looks up, his eyes narrowing at her whilst his hand lightly taps on the cushion at her side. “And you will say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Mormont. I appreciate this gift.’”

There’s a threat to his words as if he’s taunting her, and the fact that he’s eliminated his first name worries her even further, scares her even, that she’s offended him deeply. Forcing herself to smile, Daenerys takes the strap of the camera and wears it around her neck carefully, the weight of Jorah’s stare heavier than the device.

“Thank you, Mr. Mormont,” She breathes. “I appreciate this gift.”

“Good Girl.” Jorah praises and reaches over to flip the camera on, holding it up for her to take. Good Girl? “Go on. Try it. I can be your first model.” He grins and nods at the device.

Swallowing thickly, she fiddles with the lens and lifts the device to position her eye against the viewfinder, focusing on Jorah who fixes his tie and faces her, seeing the blue of his eyes darker than before when she presses the button and the shutter echoes through.

The morning autumn breeze blows through the city, leaves of gold and red scattering the sidewalks and crunching underneath her shoes, excitement thrumming through her veins as her camera bag hangs and swings from her shoulder, and a wide smile radiating from her lips as she walks up the stone steps of Blackbird Publishing.

The building isn’t as big as her previous company, in fact, if you didn’t pay attention or have no idea of what the company’s logo looked like, you would miss it. Daenerys likes it that way, the lobby of the building already exuding comfort with several chairs and bean bags scattered on the floor, a small Starbucks kiosk nestled at the corner, and shelves of books and magazines everywhere you looked.

Daenerys steps up to the reception desk and gives her name, the woman smiling at her as she hands her a badge, directing her to the hall of elevators and instructing her to go to the 5th floor. She thanks her and pins the badge on her dress, following the instruction and waiting in anticipation for the metal doors to open.

Natasha, a woman wearing a plaid shirt over a black tank top and cargo shorts, her hair red as the fire, the Head of Imagery greets her with smiling eyes, Daenerys giggling at how happy she receives her in their department. They engage in small talk for a while as Natasha walks her through the hall, saying the name of each room and what it does in between stories of how her husband ruined her red shirt from a science experiment, with her ending up wearing a green one, to which she adds, “It’s my husband’s favorite color.”

She then introduces Victor—her partner in crime—as Natasha puts it, a tall and lanky guy, with round specs over his eyes and soft-looking, blond hair, his office covered in posters of past award-winning photographs that were featured in their magazine. He’s kind and attentive, to Daenerys’ observation and within minutes of getting to know each other, she slowly dives into the motion of her work, following the instructions Victor gives her and smiling when he bids her a job well done.

The day goes by in a whirl. Her mind intensely focused on the tasks she’s given that she ignores the constant buzzing of her phone in her pocket. She knows it’s Jon and it deflates her a bit that she can’t respond immediately, not wanting to ruin any of the photos she’s been tasked to edit by Victor and Natasha, but at the same time, she feels happy that he’s finally being more involved in her life.

They reconciled after the party, Jon feeling remorseful for his lack of attention and sensitivity to Daenerys’ feelings after she opened up about his misgivings. It’s not like she’s perfect, she has flaws too and she apologized for them as well. And it just makes her feel giddy that their love is slowly rekindling itself, the feeling carrying over to her work, making her hum in her seat as she clicks through the editing software.

When break time finally arrives, Daenerys stretches her arms and her back after sitting for so long but smiles as she sees her task list was almost done. The workload is just as tedious as her previous admin job but the fact that she’s doing what she loves takes away the stress from it all.

“I’ll be having lunch outside, Dany!” Victor calls out, raising his lunch bag in her direction.

“Enjoy!” She calls in return, waving at her co-worker and turning back to her computer, pulling her phone out from her pocket to respond to the messages she’s received.

Just as she suspected, there was a text from Jon and it makes her smile as she reads his wishes of good luck and his confirmation for their celebratory dinner tonight. What she doesn’t expect were several messages and a missed call from an unknown number, but as she reads the messages, she immediately knows that it was Jorah, asking her how her day was going and what time she was off, another one asking how she was adjusting, and another telling her about a meeting he feels stuck in.

Not that she didn’t appreciate such messages, they just came unexpectedly. Jorah has never messaged her on her personal number before. She doesn’t even remember exchanging numbers with him at all, her curiosity piquing up as she thinks how he got hold of hers but she answers her question all the same. Company Directory . Of course, he has access to it, probably the reason why he took the initiative to send Mr. Baelish her email.

She sends a quick reply to Jon, giddily telling him how excited she is about their dinner tonight then sending one to Jorah, replying that she’s having a blast at her new job.

She places her phone down on her desk and reaches for her backpack to take the sandwich she’s prepared for lunch when her phone starts ringing, startling her in the process. Her heart then hammers against her chest when she sees the same unknown number calling, Jorah’s face popping in her mind as she watches her phone vibrate in her hand.

Taking a steady breath, she presses her thumb against the green icon and slides it against the screen, lifting the device to her ear.

“Hello?” She answers, looking down at the sandwich sitting on her desk.

“Darling, I was worried you weren’t getting my messages,” Jorah says, a happy tone in his voice. “How are you? How’s your first day?”

She hums and scratches her thumb against her desk. “It’s been great. Sorry I wasn’t able to reply immediately. I didn’t want to get distracted with my tasks.”

“That’s alright, Darling.” The pet name returns, making Daenerys squirm uncomfortably in her seat. “I just wanted to invite you for dinner tonight. You know, to celebrate your first day?”

Her heart sinks. Dinner? What does she tell him? She already knows that Jorah wouldn’t be happy knowing she has plans. The way his voice sounded when he told her to accept the camera still fresh in her memory, a spark of fear running down her spine.

“I—I’m sorry, Jorah. I can’t.” She mumbles. “I’m having dinner with Jon tonight.” She shuts her eyes tight when the line goes silent, her heart pounding hard against her chest as she awaits his response.

“I see,” She hears the disappointment in his voice, Daenerys hating herself that she even has to feel apologetic for rejecting him. The instinct to please she developed when working as an assistant resurfacing.

“I’m really sorry, Jorah.” Daenerys frowns in worry. “How about tomorrow? I’m free tomorrow.”

“What time is your dinner anyway?” He asks.

“We’ll be meeting at O’Malley’s Pub at 8.” She answers.

There’s a slight pause at his end, muffled voices and movement playing in the background. “We can grab a couple of drinks then while you wait for him. We’ll pre-game as others call it.”

“I’m not sure. I don’t want to get drunk.”

“Just a drink.” He insists. “Just until he arrives and I’ll leave you be.”

It’s just one drink. There’s no harm in that right? And it doesn’t seem like a bad idea to have company while waiting for Jon. She knows 8 pm was just a tentative time with him anyway, that the possibility he would be a couple of minutes late from his shift is close to a hundred.

And Jorah just probably wants to know how she’s adjusting to her new job. She wouldn’t be here anyway if it wasn’t for him. If he didn’t give a good word to Mr. Baelish in the first place. And he’s just asking for a drink, it’s the least she could do after everything he’s given her, after everything he’s done for her.

She schools her emotions and releases a calming breath, nodding to his request even when he cannot see her. “A drink sounds great. And we can still go on that dinner tomorrow too, the timing is just off today.” She tries to sound happy, hoping that Jorah believes her sincerity.

“Amazing! I’ll pick you up at the end of your shift then.” He says, his voice much lighter than earlier, making Daenerys release a relieved sigh. “See you, Darling.” He bids.

“See you.” She says back, keeping the phone on her ear as she waits for Jorah to end the call.

Placing her phone face down on her desk once more, she picks up her sandwich and unwraps it, taking her mind off of the conversation earlier. She doesn’t want to dwell so much on Jorah’s reactions, doesn’t think about Jon either for she knows that if she gets caught up in such an emotional strain, it would affect her work and she doesn’t want to fuck up on her first day.

Taking a tentative bite of her sandwich, she hums and closes her eyes as she tries to return to her earlier joy when coming to work. Nothing and nobody should have the power to ruin her day.

“Only great things will happen from now on, Dany.” She tells herself. “Great things.”

She waves goodbye to Victor after logging out of her computer and then at Natasha as she heads to the elevator. The rest of the day seemed to go by so fast that when she looked up from her monitor, her shift was already over.

It still feels surreal for her that her life seems to be heading into the right direction. No more working just to get by. No more fear that her money wouldn’t last her the week. And most importantly, no more dreaming of becoming who she wants to be, for she’s already taking the first steps into turning her dreams into a reality.

The sound of the elevator suddenly brings Jorah to the forefront of her mind. She forgot to text him that she was already done her shift. She was quite thankful that her phone stopped buzzing for the entire duration of her work, Jon wasn’t an avid texter so she didn’t really expect anything from him but Jorah, she was worried that he would send her more messages and the thought of him being upset because she wasn’t responding made her shiver in worry.

‘ Shift just ended. ’ She quickly types on her phone and sends it. A ping coming immediately soon after, a reply from Jorah. ‘ Waiting outside. ’

How does he know when I’m off? She clutches her phone tightly in her hand as thoughts of Jorah and his action come to the surface of her mind. That for some reason, Jorah knows so much about her and what she does. How he seems to appear at the right moment without her even disclosing anything to him. It’s probably just a coincidence. She convinces herself and refuses to listen to the voice at the back of her head saying ‘ It’s because he likes you .’ Her contact details are available to the company and getting off from work at such a time is the norm in almost all working environments. Yes, a coincidence. She nods to herself and wills the ill thoughts back where she can never think of them.

Just as she expected, she sees Jorah standing in front of the building, his usual navy suit enveloping him perfectly. But what catches her attention is the bouquet of roses in his hand, a smile playing on his lips when he spots her among the passing strangers and walks towards her, meeting her halfway.

“Hi.” He breathes, holding out the bouquet to her. “For you. To celebrate your first day.”

She takes them and smiles back at him, lifting the flowers to her nose to take a whiff of the fragrance. “Jorah, you shouldn—” No, he doesn’t like his decisions being questioned. That day in his office coming to light once again. The anger in his voice and the words he said echoing in her head.

You can and you will.

Taking a deep breath, she keeps the smile on her face. “Thank you, Jorah. They’re lovely.”

“I’m glad you like them.” He says as he reaches over and takes her pack hanging loosely on her shoulders. “So, do you want to wait at O’Malley’s, or would another place suit your taste while we wait for that boyfriend of yours?” She doesn’t miss the tightness in Jorah’s voice when he mentions Jon and it somehow deflates her that there’s an unspoken tension that revolves around both men.

She asks, “What do you prefer? I think Jon will text me when he’s on his way to the pub anyway.” And she only does so to appease her former boss.

“There’s a place called Tres at the edge of town. About 15 minutes from the pub by car.” He says as he opens the back of the car and places her bag inside, taking the flowers from her grasp after. “I heard their cocktails are phenomenal.”

“Sounds good.” She says and carefully gets in the passenger seat after Jorah’s opens the door, a gasp of surprise escaping her when his hand takes hold of the seatbelt before leaning over, his face so close to her as he locks the belt in place.

“Must keep you safe.” He gives her a playful wink as he rights himself once more and closes her door.

Tres is not the place Daenerys was expecting Jorah would be taking her to. It’s like she was transported back into the 1920s as soon as she stepped through their door. Soft light illuminates the place with plush leather booths surrounding the elegant, mahogany bar sitting in the middle of the room, with two bartenders mixing drinks in front of their patrons. It was more of a Gentleman’s Club if anything, with several men clad in suits occupying the seats with their female companions dressed in cocktail dresses.

It suddenly makes her feel out of place as she looks down at her attire, a plain white dress that stops just above her knees with a brown belt tied around her waist. Her sneakers look even more inappropriate compared to the heels that are strapped around the women’s ankles.

She takes a step back, feeling like an alien entering another universe when she feels a hand press against her lower back, looking up to see Jorah staring down at her, his blue eyes soft yet full of question.

“I don’t think I belong here,” She mutters, her eyes unrelenting in scanning the place. “I’m not even dressed properly to be here.”

“There’s no dress code.” Jorah in tones, his hand moving to the side of her waist and resting it on her hip. “And you look lovely as always. Shall we sit?”

But she doesn’t get to give her answer as he tugs her to his side, striding down the row of booths and claiming the one at the very corner of the bar, his hand only pulling away to allow her to slide into the leather seats.

“How was your day today?” He asks as he takes his beside her, too close for comfort and his arm stretches at the back of her seat, his head tilting as he keeps his eyes on her. “Were the people kind? I’d like to hear everything.”

A server then appears in front of them, Daenerys looking up to face the young man when he asks for their orders. She’s not given a menu and it slightly worries her that she would make a fool out of herself if she asks for something they don’t have.

“Whiskey. Neat.” Jorah says, not looking at the boy. “And a sample board if you have it.”

“Uhmm—what do you have?” Daenerys worries her lip, her hands resting on her lap as she plays with the hem of her dress to ease her anxiety.

“You can order anything you want, Ma’am, and we shall make it for you.” The server directs.

“P-Peach Bellini?” She doesn’t even know if she said her order right. But the server just nods and turns away from their table, Daenerys looking down at her hands when her introversion makes another appearance. And she doesn’t even know why she’s being so shy. Why she’s acting as such when she’s just having drinks. Drinks with Jorah. He said she looks alright and there’s no dress code. So, she doesn’t have to worry about sticking like a sore thumb.

And it’s as seem Jorah senses her apprehension, his hand gingerly moving to rest on her shoulder, giving the joint a light squeeze. “Daenerys, relax.” He tuts and she heeds his advice, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “Today is a good day for you. And I only have you for a little while. Don’t you think we should make the most of it?”

She nods and wills herself to smile, a genuine one this time.

And she does end up relaxing; diving back into the smooth conversations she would have with Jorah back then as he tells her of the comings and goings of the company, how he’s implemented a new rule that concerns gossip and other non-business-related conversations that lead employees into the path of unproductivity. While she, in turn, tells him about the company and how she enjoyed every bit of it. How Natasha has been nothing but nice and accommodating to her transition to a new working environment and how Victor—there’s a tick on Jorah’s jaw when she mentions his name—has been helpful in her tasks and that she’s quite thankful that she already knows how to work the software they’ve been using in the firm.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Jorah says as he pops a grape in his mouth, the look he has on when the fruit pushes against his cheek making her giggle.

“I am. And I cannot thank you enough for helping me get this.” She says before sipping her second cocktail.

“Like I said, anything for you, Darling.” He grins and takes a tentative sip of his whiskey, their conversation moving on to how her previous supervisor, Tyrion, was glad that Peggy has been fired from the company.

After three cocktails in, Daenerys starts to worry in her seat, peeking at her phone from time to time as she waits for Jon’s text. It’s already 10 o’clock and they were supposed to meet two hours ago but still, he hasn’t responded to any of her messages.

“Maybe he forgot.” Jorah hums as he finishes his drink, the tumbler making an audible sound as he places it back on the table. “I mean, he did leave you at the party. I wouldn’t trust a man who wouldn’t even think about his woman for even a second.”

The comment takes her back and the easiness she was feeling earlier dissipates. His words are true, yes, but pointing it out further just drives the knife deeper into her heart, that Jon has indeed forgotten their plans for dinner breaks it even more.

She picks up her phone once more and tries to call this time, making several attempts and each one only brings her to voicemail. She sighs, the drink in front of her forgotten as she thumbs through her phone, reading the last message Jon sent to her today.

“I think I’m calling it a night.” Daenerys deflates, fighting the tears that are threatening to fall from her eyes.

How can he forget her so fast when he confirmed that he would show up earlier? They talked about their flaws and had an intense heart-to-heart about his assumed indifference in her life. And he promised he would change. Promised her that he would be more present, more available, and give her the emotional satisfaction she desperately needs. But now it feels like all that talk has fallen on deaf ears and that Jon has rolled back into his usual self.

“Let me take you home.” Jorah offers as he stands from his seat, offering his hand to her which she takes.

“That’s alright.” Daenerys sighs. “I can grab an Uber from here.”

“Please. I insist.” Jorah pushes, his hand resting on her arm, the sudden touch making her flinch. “You’re obviously in distress and I wouldn’t trust a stranger taking you home.” He adds. “Please, it will bring me peace to know that you arrive home safely.”

With Jon being MIA once more and knowing that Jorah doesn’t take lightly to answers that involve ‘no’, and frankly, she doesn’t have the energy to argue and with the sadness dominating her senses, she nods, and concedes to his offer, following him out of the bar and back to his car.

She’s quiet for the whole drive, her head leaning against the window as she stares blankly into space. She couldn’t take Jon off her mind and how he flaked on her. Couldn’t accept that their talk from before has all been for nothing.

But she’s pulled away from her reverie when Jorah makes a turn at the right corner. The street and houses looking all too familiar for her not to notice. And when she looks at the GPS on the dashboard, there’s no path he’s following, no destination typed into the console. Her mind going overdrive, fear encasing her as she thinks how Jorah knows where she lives when she didn’t even give him her address.

She sits up and grabs her phone tightly when she sees them stop in front of her building. The lamp posts and the silver moon being the only source of light to illuminate the streets as windows from the surrounding houses and apartments bathe in darkness.

Without saying a word, Jorah gets out of the vehicle as soon as he turns it off, Daenerys watching him stride to her side and open the door for her.

She steps out carefully, her heart pounding in her ribs as she watches him take out her things from the backseat, the flowers being placed in her hands along with her camera bag while he slings her backpack on one shoulder.

“You don’t have to take that.” She says with a forced smile, reaching up for her bag but Jorah’s hand circles around her wrist, stopping her from taking her things and looking at her with seriousness in his eyes.

“Nonsense.” Jorah chuckles, the grin on his lips making her spine shiver with trepidation. “You’re not yet at your door. I wouldn’t want you to break your neck in case you trip on the stair, especially with you carrying all this.”

She swallows thickly and nods at his words that feign concern, agreeing to his request as she walks to the front door, taking her keys out of the pocket of her camera bag, just to appease him and possibly make him leave her alone faster.

Her body goes rigid as they climb the steps of her apartment, Daenerys feeling Jorah’s chest so close to her back making her nervous that she flinches and trip on a step, his hand finding its way to her hip when she tries to right herself.

“See? Good thing I was here.” He laughs.

She laughs back, although in pretense, to not arouse any suspicion that she feels unsafe with how this man is acting. The man she’s come to know for years now. The man she looks up to and has shown his support in her work.

She clutches her keys tight and quickens her pace as she climbs the remainder of the steps, her door coming to view making her feel elated that she will be in a safe space away from this man. Immediately, she fumbles with her keys, and she hiccups when her fingers get all sticky, her eyes blurring as she tries to push the key through the slot.

Yet her attempts are halted when Jorah’s hand comes into view, her keychain snatched from her hand and he inserts the metal instrument through the hole, the knob turning in his grasp after and pushing the door open to her apartment.

“After you,” He hums and Daenerys slips through the threshold, her back facing Jorah and her heart dropping to her stomach when she hears him step inside, the locks on her door snapping into place.

She places the bouquet and her camera bag down on the coffee table, her bag making an audible thud when it hits the floor and Jorah’s footsteps echoing through the living room, filling her ears, making it known to her that he’s walking around her space.

“Quaint.” He remarks. “And cozy.” And Daenerys gathers the courage to face him, her eyes widening in surprise to see Jorah holding the picture frame previously hanging at the side of her door, a picture of her and Jon during their visit to Buckingham Palace.

“I’m home safe.” She speaks all of a sudden, giving Jorah the fakest smile. “You can go now. Jon might come by to check on me.” She rambles as she tries to recall the video she saw in high school when dealing with unwanted visitors. Keep stalling til you find an escape. “He could have just been tied up at work and is probably on his way here—”

“Oh, he’s not coming.” Jorah hums, his eyes still glued to the frame before dropping it on the floor and stepping on it with a loud crunch.

“What—what do you mean?” She asks, feeling her blood run cold at his eerie words.

Jorah then reaches in his pocket to take out his phone, tapping on the screen before holding it out for her to take. “Why don’t you see for yourself.”

Taking the device with shaky hands, she chokes on her breath when she sees the image of Jon slumped on the ground. His eyes closed, his lip and forehead bleeding and a bruise forming on the side of his face. She looks up at Jorah then back at the photo, her muscles tightening as she studies his battered face.

“What did you do?” She gasps, her face red in anger and her eyes brimming with tears. “What the fuck did you do?!”

“Me?” Jorah feigns innocence and plucks the phone from her hands, tucking the device back in his pocket. “I did nothing of the sort. I was with you the whole night, remember? While your boyfriend was absent, like always.” He smirks and picks up another photo of her and Jon, giving it the same treatment as the previous one.

“They’ll find him!” She shouts. “Someone will find him and they will find out what you did to him!”

“Maybe—” Jorah hums and takes a step closer to Daenerys, his eyes turning sinister as he keeps them on her. “Or maybe they won’t. Maybe, they’ll find his body floating in some river and see a man who saw no future after his girlfriend dumped him for another. Decided to drown himself to end his meaningless life.” He chuckles when Daenerys looks at him in horror, the tears spilling down her face as she stares at the man she thought she knew. “The media would sop up that story in a flash, don’t you think?”

Daenerys takes a step back, her body shivering in terror before sprinting to her bedroom. She doesn’t look back when she hears his hurried steps, grabbing onto the knob but yelps when Jorah latches unto her arm.

“Hel—” Her scream gets muffled as Jorah covers her mouth, her eyes blown wide when he pulls her closer to him and sneers in her face.

“Shut up!” He warns and walks them both to her room, kicking the door closed before pushing her to the bed, her back dropping harshly on the mattress.

She pushes her palms against the bed as she tries to lift herself up, her instinct to scream taking over once more but stops when his hand wraps around her neck, his body pressing hard against hers, Daenerys gasping when he tightens his grip.

“Don’t give me a reason to hurt you, Darling.” He growls, Daenerys clawing on his wrist when he adds pressure on his hold.

“Please—” She chokes out.

“You promise?” He hisses and she nods, her eyes shutting tight when she feels the air slowly leave her. “Don’t make me regret it.” A threat and Daenerys gasps deeply, taking lungfuls of air before coughing loudly as she holds her neck, Jorah still atop her with his eyes boring into her.

“Why are you doing this?” She rasps, the tears continuously rolling down her face as Jorah’s hand begins to wander down her thighs, giving it a hard squeeze.

“Because I am better for you.” He says in a serious tone, his nose grazing down her cheek while his hand rides up her dress, a finger slipping through the fabric of her panties and pulling on it to have the elastic snap against her skin. “Because your boyfriend is not the man you’re supposed to be with. Because you’re supposed to be with someone who takes care of you, who supports you, and who loves you.” He whispers, his lips pressing a kiss on her cheek before trailing it down her neck. “And I’m that man.” His tongue then rolls on a patch of skin, Daenerys whimpering while her stomach turns at his words and how her body starts to respond to his touch, feeling her cunt go slick.

“If you love me Jorah, you wouldn’t do this.” She cries, her voice still raw from his previous assault. “Please, just let me go.”

“Oh, but I can’t do that, or else you won’t realize that you need me. That. You. Love. Me.” He says each word in a hushed voice laced with danger, and pulls away from her, dropping down to his knees on the floor of her room as he lifts her dress up and tugs her panties past her legs, pressing the soiled fabric against his nose and hearing him inhale deeply before tucking the undergarments in his pocket.

He pushes her thighs apart and Daenerys gasps when the cool air hits her sensitive cunt, another cry leaving her lips when he runs his tongue against her pussy lips, rolling around her swollen nub. She tries to stop him once more, pushing his head away from her but his large hand takes hold of both hers, locking her in place as he begins to lap his tongue against her folds.

She can’t believe that this is happening. That Jorah who was always kind to her is now doing such sinful things to her. She tries to think of how it started, of what she did to warrant such attention from him. Was it because she always said yes and never once tried to go against what he asked, what he wanted? But she only did it out of courtesy, did it because she didn’t want to offend and wanted to appease. She was a good employee. An obedient one. He said so himself.

But he loves her. He said he loves her. Why would he bestow upon her a nightmare if he loves her?

Her breath suddenly hitches and her muscles stiffen at the sudden intrusion of his digit in her, feeling her pussy suck his finger in as he buries it to the knuckle. And he doesn’t wait for long before thrusting it in and out, his pace quick and relentless, making her arch her back at the overwhelming sensation.

She pants heavily and grits her teeth, her mind going black when he adds a second, then a third, the pain from her walls stretching around his digits digging into her pelvis, making her squirm on the bed.

His lips then round her clit and begin sucking on it like a starved man, no pretense of holding back or slowing down, her core starting to quiver as she feels herself climbing higher into ecstasy. The tears on her face have long since dried and she feels shame wash over her as her body sing and delights from his torturous touch.

“That’s it, Baby,” Jorah coaxes against her cunt. “I can feel you close.”

She tries not to give in. Tries her best not to give him the satisfaction of succumbing to his ministrations. But she can’t fight her body, can’t fight her sense. Her heels digging into the mattress when he adds pressure on her clit, his tongue frantic as his fingers move faster and harder, thrusting deeper inside of her, the sound of her cunt squelching and his hums of pleasure filling her ears.

Her hands are then released from his hold and his thumb replaces his mouth on her swollen bud as he moves up and trails kisses on her pelvis, his body pressing against hers when he sees his face next to hers, the blues of his eyes almost gone as his pupils blown wide in evident arousal and his nose grazing down her cheek as he keeps up the movement of his hand.

“Cum for me, Baby.” He groans and as if his voice triggers something in her, she combusts with a loud cry, her head lolling on the mattress and her eyes rolling back as her release grips her senses.

A whine then leaves her lips when Jorah continues to rub her still, his fingers easing her from her high before he pulls his fingers out, feeling her pussy clench from the loss. She tries to regulate her breathing, to steady her erratic heart, and when she opens her eyes, she sees Jorah staring at her, his lips wrapping around his digits as he licks them clean of her essence.

“God, you taste divine, Darling.” Jorah groans as he pulls his hand away, Daenerys seeing his beard glistening with her unwelcomed arousal. “Turn over.” He commands after, his hand slapping her still sensitive thigh hard, Daenerys pushing herself to do his bidding, for she could tell he was still holding back. She winces to think what that hand would do if she dares to disobey.

“Take everything off.” The power in his voice shakes her to the core, immediately working to undo the belt then the buttons of her dress, dropping the fabric to her waist and stopping when only her bra is left to keep her dignity. “I said everything.” His command comes once more, this time with a bite, and with shaky hands she reaches from behind, sobbing as she unclasps the hooks of her bra from behind, Jorah’s hands reaching over to slide the straps off her arms and letting the article drop on the bed.

He pushes her down on the mattress, her chest pressed down while her ass hangs in the air on display for him. The telltale sound of his pants unzipping and the rustle of cotton and denim fill the quiet, the thud of shoes and the clang of his belt buckle coming after.

“Keep those hands where I can see them, Darling.” He warns as he grabs her waist, her heart constricting when she feels the tip of his cock brushing again her soaking cunt.

A soft cry of ‘no’ leaves her lips as he pushes through her folds, her hands clutching tightly on the duvet on her bed as he continues to drive himself in inch by inch, his groans of pleasure then a growl echoes through the room when he bottoms out.

He pulls back slowly, leaving only the head before plunging himself back inside, a garbled cry escaping her lips as he begins to fuck her hard, his pace unforgiving and reckless.

“Please—” Her cries turn into moans as she reaches back, pressing her hand against Jorah’s strong thigh. “It hurts—”

“Take it, Baby, you can do it.” Jorah growls and slaps her hand away. “Don’t you feel how your sweet little cunt wants me?” He says in between pants, his fingers digging into her flesh, feeling herself bruise underneath his touch while his cock thrusts harder and harder, the bed creaking underneath, threatening to break from his frenzied movements.

She lets out a loud yelp when he suddenly grabs her by the hair, her back arching as he pulls her up and holds her against him, her back pressing against his solid chest and feeling his chest hair rub against her skin while his hand makes its way back around her neck.

“You. Are. Mine.” He says between each thrust, the sound of their skin slapping against each other mixing with their hurried breathing driving her closer to her limit once more.

“Tell me you’re mine!” He demands, and Daenerys grunts as his hand tightens around her throat when she refuses to give in to his bidding. “Tell me!” He growls even louder, snapping his hips in a merciless rhythm, making her body quiver both in fear and pleasure.

“I’m yours! Please, Jorah—I’m yours!” She cries, her hand reaching up to grab his arm, her legs shaking as she feels the familiar pull at the core of her belly once more.

“Yes— Yesss!” Jorah exclaims and curses a loud fuck! in the air as his pelvis quickens in pace before giving one final thrust and stilling, his cock buried deep inside of Daenerys’ cunt and spilling in his desire, white ropes coating her walls. The act itself triggers her climax once again, making her body spasm against his at her release, her chest heaving as Jorah continues to thrust his hips, riding out his climax along with hers.

Daenerys feels breathless and used, her body being laid down on the bed and a whimper escaping her throat when Jorah pulls out, feeling his essence drip down her thighs, leaving her hollow and spent, her cunt raw and clenching from the loss of his cock and her body shivering when he presses his lips on the base of her nape, slowly trailing them down her back and stopping at the dip before her ass.

“Such a good girl.” Jorah praises and runs a hand up her side, whispering once more against her shoulder, a shiver from both his menacing voice and fear running up her spine. “ My good girl.”

The black barrier with a crest of a bear stares back at her as she stands in front of the door. It’s Jorah’s place. A house built away from the city and near the boundaries of the country. It’s where she will be living as per Jorah, telling her to pack her things after that night. He’s even struck a deal with Petyr, the man agreeing that she’s to transition working from home, even giving her the position at his firm completely only after a few days of her internship.

Daenerys doesn’t hear from Jon again after that night. No calls, no messages, making her fear that Jorah has made true to his threat. She cannot even try and contact him herself as Jorah took away her phone and replaced it with a new one. One he can track her with, one he threatened her into believing that any calls made outside of work would only make her suffer. And that he was listening and watching, always.

Jorah opens the door and nudges her in, her camera hanging around her neck, a reminder of his cruelty and deceit, and her luggage that contains everything she owns in Jorah’s hand. She thinks about where things have started to go out of hand, and what she did for her to end up in such an ordeal but stops her thoughts altogether for she knows there is no answer to her questions. That with Jorah, her life is better by not having questions at all.

She flinches when the door shuts with a snap, Jorah taking her hand and walking her up the staircase that’s decorated in modern architecture. That if the circumstances we different, she would take the time to appreciate its beauty, along with the decor of the house. But she can’t bring herself to do so as fear completely takes over her being, a constant presence in the company of this man.

She follows him through the hallway, various doors closed for her to see, her eyes firmly ahead as she stops in front of a closed door at the end. Jorah’s room, she assumes as he reaches over and pushes it open, revealing a neatly made king-size bed, walls of gray and white, and a closet full of suits hanging neatly beside an ensuite.

She looks around, trying to see even the smallest shred of the man she used to know when she stands frozen by the bed, blood running cold as her eyes stare at a grey wall, bare of any furniture aside from multiple photos. Photos of her. In various places. Her profile staring back at her wearing the outfit she vaguely remembers as the one she wore when she first joined his company. Another of her half naked at her apartment window. Another leaving the cafe she frequented in her lunch breaks and a big one where she’s smiling happily into the camera, one she remembers being taken on her first date with Jon, a big red X over his face.

“Y-You’ve been w-watching me?” She stutters.

And Jorah moves to block her vision, her eyes looking up to meet his, a devious smirk on his lips when he says, “I knew you were mine the moment I saw you.”

She shivers when he presses his lips against her lips, his hand holding her down by the shoulder and she knows that there will be no escaping this man. That he’s got what he wanted and he would stop at nothing to keep it.

#jorah mormont #daenerys targaryen #ser jorah mormont #jorah x daenerys #jorah x dany #jorleesi #dark fic #dark jorah #game of thrones #Jorleesi AU #jorleesi fanfiction #jorleesi fanfic #coconut bun stories #game of thrones au

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where-theres-smoak-2 · 2 years

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HOTD Episode 1 Review/Analysis (Spoilers)

After the disappointment of the GOT finale I was somewhat hesitant about watching HOTD but the allure of seeing more dragons on screen finally won out and I bit the bullet and just binge watched all three episodes. And I am so glad I did because this show is far from a disappointment, I have enjoyed the plot, the characters are interesting and complex and I love the dragons, in particular I love that each of the dragons we have seen so far all look different and you can clearly tell them apart, one of the critiques I had of the og show was that I found it hard to tell Daenerys’ dragons apart from each other because they all just look similar. But there is no way you could mistake Syrax for Caraxes and all of the dragons so far have looked so beautiful I have squealed in delight during pretty much every one of their scenes. Originally I was just going to talk about all three of the episodes in this one post seeing as I just watched them all together, but it was clear it was going to be too long, apparently I have alot of thoughts, but I will be posting reviews for the other two episodes soon, I’ll come back and edit this post with links to those other two reviews once I’ve written them for anyone who wants to read those too. As a bit of context I have only watched the show and have not read the book Fire and Blood that the show is based on, I own the book I just haven’t gotten around to reading it yet and I’ve decided I am going to at least wait until the end of the season before I do. Obviously there are spoilers so the rest is under the cut.

Opening Scene

I think they did a really good job with the opening scene for this episode. It set up the foundation for the show and explained well what the situation was and where we were in the timeline. The King is getting old and he has no clear heir so to avoid a dispute after his death he holds a vote. Despite being a more direct descendant the council decides the King’s granddaughter, Rhaenys can’t be heir purely because she is a woman, it did not matter whether she would have been a better ruler or not. We are shown, not just here but as the episode continues, that this world really is a patriarchy where many consider a woman’s worth to lie in strategic marriages and in providing heirs and not much else. One thing that I did notice that I thought was a clever touch was during the great council, as the camera pans over the crowd gathered, the focus is primarily on the women that are present showing that whilst this is a patriarchy the show is going to be focusing on and exploring the women in this world, such as our lead Rhaenyra.

I also think Harrenhal looked amazing, I don’t remember if we saw Harrenhal’s great hall in the og series but I can’t deny that I did pause the video so I could take a good look at it, it just looked so grand but eerie, seeing where the dragons had melted parts of the stone and where parts were being held up by scaffolding is that subtle reminder of just how powerful the dragons are, and how dangerous, I also really like the symbolism of the great council happening at Harrenhal which, much like the Targaryens once were, was believed to be undefeatable, until Aegon and his dragon literally melted it leaving it in ruin. I think it plays nicely into that foreshadowing of the only thing that could tear down the house of the dragon was itself. Like Harrenhal, come the end of the Dance, house Targaryen is left in ruins, a shadow of its former power.

I also really loved that transition into the viewer being up in the clouds and then you see Syrax and Rhaenyra soaring in and over King’s Landing. They knew we were all here for the dragons and they didn’t make us wait for it, which I am real happy with. I also think the Dragon Pit looked really cool sitting over King’s Landing, the interesting thing about seeing the dragon pit is that it is a landmark we have seen before in GOT but it was in ruins then. Now we are seeing it in all its glory, which again really highlights that we are at a moment in time when the Targaryens were at the height of their power.

The Childbed is Our Battlefield

A large part of this episode was all about the King’s new heir and his desire for a boy but also on the role woman play in bringing the next generation into the world. Queen Aemma’s story is a tragic one. She has tried over the last ten years to provide the King with an heir and it is clear that she has felt a lot of pressure to give him a healthy son, my heart broke for her when she apologised for failing to give him a son. We also learnt that she had lost five children by this point, one in the cradle, two stillborns and two miscarriages. In the scene where she is talking with Viserys about how this is the last time you could see how tired she was, there was also a sense of foreboding when she said it was the last time and for me that’s when I knew she wasn’t going to make it out of this episode alive.

The scene between Aemma and Rhaenyra was interesting. It was clear that there was alot of love between mother and daughter but that they have very different views on the role a woman can play. Rhaenyra doesn’t see why she can’t go to battle in glory and ride her dragon and explore the world whereas Aemma seems to have accepted that her role is to carry children and that is how she can best serve the realm. I liked how she described the childbed as a woman’s battlefield as it shows just what woman went through during childbirth, in those times childbirth was as dangerous as a battlefield.

One of the most shocking and graphic scenes of this episode was the childbirth scene, I think it was kind of genius of them to intercut the scene of Aemma’s labour with the tourney to really highlight this imagery of the childbed being like a battle. There was also a lot of symbolism in one particular sequence which is where Prince Daemon jousts against Ser Criston Cole. There is alot of ups and downs in this sequence which I think parallel not just Daemon’s journey in this episode but Viserys’, Aemma’s, Rhaenyra’s and the house of Targaryen as a whole. In this scene we see Daemon get hit by Criston’s lance and then grind against the rail, this moment is an uncertain one as we are left wondering what will happen? Will he fall or will he recover? This can be paralleled with Daemon’s uncertainty about whether he will remain heir or whether the Queen will give birth to a son that will replace him. The same can be said for Rhaenyra and her uncertainty about whether her mother will deliver a son that will overshadow her in her father’s affection but also her concern over her mother’s safety during the childbirth. It represents the uncertainty for the Queen as well, will she finally give the King a son and the realm a clear heir? Will she safely make it through her battle in the childbed? It can also represent Viserys uncertainty on whether he will finally have a son, something he has longed for.

The scene right before showed Viserys faced with a decision, whether to put his wife through a horrific death in the hope of saving the child. I think the moment we see Daemon fall from his horse symbolises Viserys making that decision and the moment when Aemma’s fate was sealed. We now know that she will not be able to recover and she will die. But we also see Daemon continue his battle when he calls for a contest of arms and I think this not only shows that even though her fate is sealed Aemma’s battle isn’t over yet but also the fighting chance the child still has. It represents that little glimmer of hope Viserys still has that although he will lose his wife he may still have a son and heir. At the start of the contest of arms it looks like Daemon is struggling and losing the battle, these moments are intercut with Aemma and we see her struggle and how she is losing her life in a violent, painful and bloody way.

Then comes the moment when Daemon overpowers Criston and raises his arms in celebration as the crowd cheers which is intercut with the moment that Baelon is pulled from his mother and begins to cry. Obviously I think this represents Viserys triumph at finally having a son, for a moment it seems as if Aemma’s sacrifce is worthwhile and that the realm will know stability under a clear heir. But the moment is short lived. Daemon has let his guard down and is then blindsided when Criston attacks and knocks him down while Daemon’s back is turned leaving him no choice but to yield. I can see this representing a few things. The obvious being how Viserys risks everything for a son and in the end he loses his wife and his son who only lives a few hours. It could also represent how Daemon thought after the death of his nephew he would be heir again only to be replaced by Rhaenyra. In regards to Rhaenyra (and there is a spoiler for episode three here so beware if you are reading this after only watching ep 1) I think this could also foreshadow her journey over the three episodes in that she loses her mother and brother but is finally seen by her father and is named heir. But then she is blindsided when her father decides to marry her closest friend Alicent and they have a son together which leaves Rhaenyra feeling like her position is threatened.

I think the most disturbing thing about the birthing scene though is the lack of autonomy Queen Aemma has. The decision to do the c-section is made by the men in the room who want to save the son. You could maybe understand why the decision was made as they were both going to die anyway and at least a c-section would give the child a chance but I can’t forgive the fact that Aemma, the woman, wasn’t included in the discussion or given a choice at all. They didn’t even explain to her what was going to happen, they took control over her body and she was held down against her will despite her expressing her fear. It was a truly disturbing and horrific scene and you could feel how much pain she was in. It was truly heartbreaking.

Rhaenyra My Queen!

I am trying my best not to compare characters from this show to characters from GOT but I can’t deny that I was getting some Arya Stark vibes from Rhaenyra in that she just wants to explore the world and wants to be a warrior who will ride into battle, also the way she keeps showing up late. The scene where she comes in late to the tourney while her father is announcing the Queen’s labour has began reminded me alot of when Arya shows up late when the King is arriving in the pilot of GOT. But even though I do see those similarities I think Rhaenyra is an amazing character in her own right and I have instantly fallen in love with her.

She goes through quite the journey in this episode. It is quickly established that she has alot of love for her mother but that she also has concern for her about her pregnancy. As mentioned above her mother has lost 5 children and its likely Rhaenyra witnessed these losses and knows how it has effected her mother and father. Yet she seems hopeful as well and we hear how she went to choose a dragon’s egg for her new sibling’s cradle and that she specifically chose one that reminded her of Vhagar, the oldest and biggest dragon living at that time. I think she feels overlooked by her father and like she is not enough for him because she is not a son, yet despite this it seems like she genuinely hopes for a brother for her father’s and mother’s sake. A brother would make her father happy but also would mean that there would be less pressure on her mother to go through another pregnancy.

I also very much get the impression that Rhaenyra feels somewhat trapped in King’s Landing. She finds an outlet by going dragon riding despite protests from her parents and her guard, who do not seem keen on her riding but I don’t think that is enough. In the scene with Alicent under the Weirwood tree she talks about how she wants to explore the world and I think this is what creates the close bond she appears to have with her uncle. I think she feels very out of place in her world, everyone expects her to be the typical lady and get married and have children and leave the fighting and politics to the men, but she doesn’t conform to the ideals of her society and neither does her uncle. I think they are very similar, they both feel overlooked by Viserys and want to prove their worth. Neither of them really follow the rules and roles expected of them by the court. The first scene we see of them together in the throne room on the surface it could seem like they are being unpleasant with each other but it is clear that they have this banter between them and it actually comes across as very playful. He also brings her a gift, one that has meaning as it is a part of her ancestry but it is also something that links her to him, as he says now they both have a piece of their ancestry. I won’t lie I did sense, umm lets call it vibes, from these two. Any other show I’d have gone that’s crazy he’s her uncle, but this is a GOT spin off so I wouldn’t be that surprised if their relationship were to turn romantic at some point, the Targaryens are known for marrying each other to keep bloodlines pure and all that.

One scene that really did make me feel for Rhaenyra was the funeral for her mother where she is talking with her uncle and wondering whether her father knew happiness whilst her brother had lived and how she will never be enough for her father because she will never be a son. You could also see how much grief and pain she felt when she had to give the command to Syrax to burn the pyres of her mother and brother. That must have been a heavy burden for her to carry but it was clear that Viserys couldn’t do it.

Rhaenyra does get some recognition from her father come the end of the episode when he decides to name her heir and tells her the prophecy about the long night. He recognises that he wasted the years wanting a son and that he overlooked her. I think this might have been the first time Rhaenyra felt seen by her father. I did enjoy that scene at the end where we see Rhaenyra all decked out in her finest like the Queen she is as all the lords knelt and swore fealty to her as the heir. This was likely the first time a woman was ever named heir and the first time the lords of the realm had knelt and sworn fealty to a woman. I am very excited to see where Rhaenyra’s character goes from here.

The Heir For A Day.

Ok next I want to talk about Daemon. Not gonna lie I think Daemon’s character is deliciously complex. He might even be tied with Rhaenyra as my favourite character. He’s very messy and I don’t think he’s bad or good he’s kind of both which is what makes his character so interesting to me. He is clearly a very bold person, the first time we see him he is sitting on the Iron Throne which could be seen as treasonous. I also feel like he enjoys shocking people. Like alot of the things he does this episode seem to be just to get a reaction out of someone, mostly Otto. For example him choosing Otto’s son as his opponent was clearly just to wind up Otto, as was him asking Alicent for her favour after. I mean the guy is a dick but at the same time I can’t help but like him and those scenes where he is just being a petty drama queen are highly entertaining to me.

He definitely has some dark moments in the episode like with the city watch. That scene is very ambiguous to me because on one hand if the people he rounded up were criminals that you could make the argument that Daemon was just in his actions against them, as brutal as they were. I can also understand the reasoning behind this being a one off show of force to let the criminals of King’s Landing know that lawlessness would no longer be tolerated in the city. From what was said at the council meetings it does seem like Viserys was kind of turning a blind eye to the rising crime in the city and it had gone unchecked for a while. It is possible that Daemon was being sincere when he said he was trying to make the city safe for everyone. However it was very brutal and it did seem like Daemon enjoyed the chaos of it all and it isn’t made clear that they were definitely criminals, it could just be that Daemon wanted to make that show of force and so just rounded up some random people and falsely charged them with crimes. One thing I will say about Daemon is that he does seem to be a get sh*t done no matter the cost kind of guy. Like he might cross some lines but he will get the job done. Also I did find it kind of funny, and again bold, that he showed up to the small council meeting still in his armour and with blood and a smirk on his face.

There was another ambiguous moment in this episode and it was a big one as it is what lead to Viserys replacing Daemon with Rhaenyra as heir. The whole ‘Heir for a day’ debacle. We don’t know whether Daemon did say this or not as it cuts away from the scene and instead we see Otto telling Viserys that’s what Daemon said. I could see three different scenarios here. It could be that it’s exactly as Otto said, that Daemon really did call Baelon the ‘heir for a day’ and that he was glad that his nephew had died and that he got to remain as heir and that he rented out the pleasure house so that he could celebrate his own rise. However I personally don’t think this is very likely. During the funeral scene you could see that Daemon was genuinely grieving the loss of his sister in law and nephew. He felt bad for his family and he felt their pain along with them. He might be a dick who likes to wind people up but he does love his family so I think it would be highly unlikely that he would be so disrespectful by throwing a party to celebrate his nephew’s demise. Also during the scene at the pleasure house we see Daemon looking very melancholy and withdrawn from those around him. It is also worth noting that I do think those around him were celebrating the fact that Daemon was still heir as it is in their best interests that he remain Heir. The gold cloaks owe their station and reputation to Daemon and they are fiercely loyal to him, the more powerful he is the better it is for them. It’s the same with Mysaria, it is more of an advantage for her and her position is more secure if Daemon remains Heir. However Daemon himself did not seem to be celebrating, he wasn’t partaking in the activities, he was sitting quietly by himself. So another scenario could be that he said it but not in the context that Otto is saying he did. Not in celebration but in sorrow, when he says ‘to the king’s son’ he does sound sincere and there is a look of sadness on his face, its possible that he said it in recognition that for one day Baelon had brought joy to the king and the realm and to recognise how painful it is that his life was so short. The third scenario could be that Daemon never said it at all and Otto made the whole thing up. The question to ask here is why would Otto make it up and if he did then why didn’t Daemon deny having said it when Viserys asked? Well as far as Otto goes I do think he has been manipulating the King for some time. It does seem like Otto speaks for the King, an example being when he tells Corlys that his concern has been heard and will be taken under advisement. It very much seems that Otto is the one in control during the small council meetings. This gives Otto alot of power, power which he does not want to lose. Whilst it seems he can manipulate and control the King it is obvious that he cannot do the same with Daemon. I think he feels threatened by Daemon and wants to get rid of him. Replacing him as an heir would be to Otto’s advantage. I think the reason why Otto wants Rhaenyra to be the heir is because he mistakenly believes that because she is young and female she will be easy to manipulate. He is able to manipulate his daughter into visiting the King’s chambers and it seems like he has been manipulating her a long time. It’s possible he believed that as Alicent and Rhaenyra are friends he could use that friendship to manipulate Rhaenyra and keep her under his control too. However Daemon would be a problem here too due to the strong bond between him and Rhaenyra. I think Otto wanted to separate Daemon from both the King and Rhaenyra. During the scene when Otto tells the small council that Daemon called Baelon the heir for a day we can see how much this hurts Rhaenyra. So I do think Otto had a motive to lie about it and he chose something that he knew would turn both of them against Daemon.

So the next question is if he didn’t say it why didn’t Daemon deny it? Well I think the answer to this is because he was angry that the King would even think he would say it. I think he can see what Otto is doing and is angry that his brother is so easily manipulated by Otto, in his opinion it just reinforces to him that Viserys is weak. I also think some of that anger comes from jealousy, he is upset that his brother seems to favour Otto over him. He clearly feels overlooked by his brother and like his brother is always trying to send him away when all Daemon wants is to be at his brother’s side and for his brother to see his worth. In my opinion Daemon seems to be a ‘cut off his nose to spite his own face’ kind of guy. Even though denying it might make things better Daemon doesn’t because he doesn’t want to have to deny it, he wants his brother to know he’s not capable of saying such a thing in the first place. Daemon is petty and spiteful so I think he has that attitude of well if you are going to think I am capable of saying it then I’m not going to correct you. Another thing that I think is worth noting that might be a clue as to whether he did say it or not is that whilst he doesn’t verbally deny it right before he says ‘we all have to mourn in our own way’ he slightly shakes his head. I personally saw this as an instinctive non verbal denial, I mean Viserys says ‘did you say it’ and Daemon’s immediate, and what seemed to be involuntary, reaction was to shake his head no. I could be looking too deeply into this but to me that makes me think that he never said it at all.

I do think Daemon was surprised when Viserys told him he was naming a new heir. Up until this point Viserys, like with alot of things, seemed to just look the other way whenever Daemon did anything wrong, he always defended him to the others at court and so Daemon got used to this and just assumed that Viserys would look the other way this time too, this could also have played into why he doesn’t deny saying it, maybe if he knew how severe the consequences would be he would have tried explaining himself but he just didn’t think he would face any consequences. But I also think Daemon was really hurt by Viserys replacing him and ordering him back to the Vale. Honestly I did feel kind of bad for Daemon in this moment as he had just expressed to his brother how he felt like he was always sending him away and then in response Viserys replaces him and then sends him away again. I do think it was interesting foreshadowing that right when Viserys sends Daemon away we see him cut his hand on the throne, that definitely doesn’t seem like a good omen.

Little Nods and Foreshadowings

I did notice some little nods and some foreshadowing to the og series which I thought was entertaining so here are some of the things I noticed.

1) When Rhaenyra and Alicent were under the Weirwood tree they are talking about Nymeria, this was who Arya named her direwolf after and it could also be a nod to how Arya herself travels to explore new lands like Nymeria did. Also as I mentioned above I got a lot of Arya vibes from Rhaenyra so it was fun to hear her talking about the person Arya’s wolf was named for.

2) The Baratheon knight asks Rhaenys for the favour of the Queen that never was and Otto tells the King he could have his tongue for that. Viserys replies that tongues would not change the succession. I found this very ironic considering it is a baratheon that eventually replaces a targaryen and changes the succession. What is even more ironic is that we then see the Baratheon defeated in the joust which could be a nod to how they too are dethrone.

3) When Viserys is talking to Rhaenyra about the prophecy of the song of ice and fire, he mentions the terrible winter gusting out of the distant north and then we cut to Rickon Stark swearing fealty to Rhaenyra. It reminded me of how Arya Stark was the one to kill the Night King but also of how Starks and Targaryens stood together to face the long night.

Overall Thoughts

Overall I think this was a strong pilot. It set everything up well and left me wanting to watch more. I think all the characters are well fleshed out, complex and interesting. The dragons look amazing and I’m excited to see what will happen next. I will be posting my review for eps 2 and 3 soon and then from here on out I’ll post a review after each episode.

#hotd #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen

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viking-hel · 1 year

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I posted 1,301 times in 2022

45 posts created (3%)

1,256 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@whetstonefires

@legolas--thranduilion

@tubbylita

@riahchan

@jonsnowbrooding

I tagged 908 of my posts in 2022

Only 30% of my posts had no tags

#long post - 97 posts

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Longest Tag: 123 characters

#i have gaps in my memory because i don’t even know if what happened happened because my half sis was good at gaslighting me

My Top Posts in 2022:

For the Jonsa Halloween 2022.

Beast. Potion. Magic. 🎃

Jon couldn’t stop watching the way the fire danced with Sansa’s hair. Her glorious mane became the flames given true form, magicked into dancing as some hopeful lad of House Cerwyn tried his best.

He lazed back into his seat, a cup of ale held idly in his hands, a potion of false courage the Cerwyn lad mayhap guzzled too much of. He must have now felt it as Sansa gracefully twirled through his clumsy steps, a kind smile on her face.

Jon loved seeing her smile. She’d had so little to smile about before now. Here she was, Queen in the North, more regal and beautiful than any lady before, and he was a mere pauper worshipping at her feet.

Magic infused the air. Jon tasted it, sweet and heady, as he kept watch of Sansa as she twisted and turned with the cheerful lutes and drums. They had no worries now; no dragonqueens or lionqueens, and no rat faced bastards to chase down and hurt young women—

Jon’s fist clenched thinking of that snake. It had been so satisfying to bloody him, to hear the sound of bone striking bone. It was only Sansa’s sweet face that tempered that beast inside him, that would do anything for her.

He came back different, Jon knew. Perhaps a part of Ghost he took with him, some man left behind in the wolf. Whatever this was, it bubbled just under the surface. That beast inside that always sought to protect her - even when she believed he couldn’t - but now she was safe inside the walls of their ancient home and they had each other.

That. That was the true magic. That they were together after so long and so much, the world was right now in a way it had never been, even before they left.

Sansa picked out a mug of ale, held it up to her lips, and tipped her head to him in askance as her eyes took on a hint of mischief. Jon smiled back and gestured her forward. He’d shared her enough, the protective beast wanted his wife beside him. Carefully, Sansa wended her way to him, speaking briefly with those who wished her well as she moved. Tall and fire-touched, she was. Again, he was a worshipper merely wanting to bask in her presence.

‘Husband,’ she said, sitting beside him. ‘Are you well?’

‘Far better now you’re here, my love.’

She reached across the table and plucked up a grape. ‘Is something to your liking?’

He couldn’t keep his eyes from her slender throat as she moved. ‘There is.’ He gulped more of his courage potion, but found none left. ‘I always do when admiring my wife.’

Giggling, Sansa handed him her mug of ale, untouched. They sat back, Jon kept his hand around hers as the court made merry.

Yes, their life was some kind of magic. Jon would never question it.

67 notes - Posted October 28, 2022

‘Next is Germany!’

Already? - Graham

79 notes - Posted May 14, 2022

The Dance hasn’t even started yet and I can’t wait for Cregan Stark to come down and clean up the mess.

92 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Don’t tell me people are shocked Rhaenys killed the common people. It’s perfectly normal for Targaryens to come in on their overgrown lizards and slaughter defenceless people. Daenerys did it. Aegon and his sisters did it. Practically a pastime.

116 notes - Posted October 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post

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reginarubie · 3 years

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The younger, more beautiful Queen - Cersei and Sansa (and Daenerys and Margaery; and Brienne of Tarth)

When Cersei recalls Maggy the Frog's prophecy about her being casted down by a younger, more beautiful queen we were all ready, thinking that younger, more beautiful Queen was supposed to be Sansa; then Margaery entered the picture and how could anyone actually ignore the dragon queen in the east and the threat she posed to Cersei and everything she stood for?

At which point many theorized each and every of three girls, younger and all described as beautiful may be the younger, more beautiful queen and would fulfill a part of Cersei's prophecy, each taking something she cared for from her. Which has many merits, especially thinking about how much Martin dislikes prophecies and likes playing around with them nudging towards the realization that we as people are the one who make our own destiny with Cersei being the real catalyst of everything Maggy the Frog prophetized for her.

Under the cut, my own personal vision of this prophecy and why I think that, no matter who will actually cause Cersei's downfall directly, Sansa (assuming she ending as QitN is also book!endgame, which we have good reason to believe it shall be so) is actually the younger, more beautiful queen.

People way more talented than me have already talked about this matter, but I wanted to give my input about it as well because I like to talk and this has been sitting in my files way too long and now I've decided to share with you all to see what you think about it.

Beneath her golden curls, the girl's face wrinkled up in puzzlement. For years after, she took those words to mean that she would not marry Rhaegar until after his father Aerys had died. "I will be queen, though?" asked the younger her.

"Aye." Malice gleamed in Maggy's yellow eyes. "Queen you shall be ... until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear."

Anger flashed across the child's face. "If she tries I will have my brother kill her."

Maggy 's prophecy has haunted Cersei all these years since first the words had been uttered and it's no wonder. Now, we know Cersei married the king - Robert Baratheon, first of his name - after he had won the Realm through conquest and we also know that the other part of Maggy's prophecy, about Cersei having three children and the King many more than her. So it stands to reason that this part may also come to be true in some way or the other.

Though show!canon has derailed and distanced itself from book!canon, it must hold some kind of importance that Cersei asks Jaime to find Sansa and kill her especially if we connect it with what child Cersei told Maggy the Frog "if she tries I will have my brother kill her"; while she easily, in the show, decides she will be the one to cause Margaery demise as well as Daenerys's.

But let's break the prophecy and try to determinate what exactly it may mean to Cersei now.

Maggy tells her that she will be the Queen for a time, which we know to be the truth, and that she will have three children while the king (Robert) will have over seventeen. She also tells Cersei that one day another may come, that she will be younger and more beautiful.

Note, the first person we know Cersei describes as beautiful, by her words, is Sansa both in show and the book.

In the very first episode of the series, when Martin was still very much part of the writing process of the episodes, Cersei comments on Sansa's beauty and on how it would be wasted in the North (foreshadowing in my opinion Sansa growing past her enamourment with beauty and return North to stay, but I digress).

While in Sansa VI, AGOT, she states "such a beautiful child. I do hope you know how much Joffrey and I love you"

Also, note that this is said about Margaery Tyrell in AFFC in Cersei III: “When all the vows were spoken, the king and his new queen stepped outside the sept to accept congratulations. "Westeros has two queens now, and the young one is as beautiful as the old one," boomed Lyle Crakehall, an oaf of a knight who oft reminded Cersei of her late and unlamented husband.”

(Guess maybe it can’t be Margaery after all tho I do remember someone saying someone else, someone younger — Catelyn about Sansa — would grow even more beautiful than she was and though she did not mean to confront Sansa with Cersei, but with herself, the phrasing did stuck me as strange)

So this girl coming to cast Cersei down will be younger (and all candidates for the place are younger than Cersei) and more beautiful (now this could be as simple as a math count of how many times each candidate is described as beautiful and confront that number with Cersei's).

The counts now stands as following:

Sansa: 18 times (without sharing those times with anyone, all on her own; 2 times she is defined as more beautiful than someone older)

Drawing by @innocent-enyo; sorry I took your pics, I fell in love with them! If it bothers you I will take them down!

Cersei: 17 times (thyo sometimes shared with Margaery so the counts, if we count the shared times with Margaery goes up to 20)

Drawing always by innocent-enyo.

[honorable mention] Brienne of Tarth: 8 times (wouldn’t it be just perfect if Brienne did manage of convince Jaime to fuck loyalty and follow her instead of Cersei? Oh wait… that’s already show canon) after all if every girl can be the another younger, more beautiful who will take (something) everything from Cersei why not Brienne the Beauty?, especially since it’s said sarcastically yet she is far more fair and beautiful in character than Cersei is. I would appreciate the irony and the twist, all I am saying 🤷🏼‍♀️

Drawing by Lucas Werneck.

Margaery: 7 times(of which 3 shared with Cersei)

Margaery Tyrell by innocent-enyo as well.

Daenerys: only 5 times (?! I am surprised as well, tho to be fair she is described as the most beautiful woman in the world once and she was asked if she had grown more beautiful in a lapse of time, but never confronted to another older)

Daenerys Targaryen by innocent-enyo again!

So we have a neck-to-neck between Sansa and Cersei.

And tho I do think each girl will fulfill part of the prophecy (to save Margaery from her marriage to Joffrey he is killed, which catalyses the series of events which brings to Tywin’s death and Myrcella’s; Brienne did convince in the show Jaime to leave Cersei behind for a time; Sansa took her legacy in a way becoming the second ruling queen of a kingdom of Westeros; Margaery in a way took away Tommen as well in the show since learning of her death he committed suicide; Daenerys took the throne and the promise of the child in the show) I think Sansa will be in the end the younger more beautiful queen because the stress on the prophecy is put on the fact that this Queen will take everything Cersei’s holds dear…

…what did Cersei want? [note; now we enter in the show only realm and book hypothesis of the story since we have yet to see the last two books]

To save and protect those she loved; she failed by her ultimate fault;

have the younger, more beautiful queen and enemy killed by her brother (lover)

To sit on the throne as queen regnant because she feels she deserves it.

To be with the man she loves publicly.

What did Sansa achieve by the end of the show:

She marched her troops South and managed to get Jon free and her plotting assured that her siblings were safe (they protected her as well)

Her “brother” (lover?, Martin I have faith in you) killed her rival (Daenerys) to protect her and their family.

She gains the North independence and is named Queen in the North and is the queen with the strongest power love and loyalty (“Ned Stark’s daughter will speak for them, she’s the best they could ask for” and “we didn’t choose you to rule us m’lady but perhaps we should have”)

I truly believe in the books she will end up (or it will be hinted at) with a man she loves or will grow to love.

So, imo, while each and every girl may take something from Cersei and perhaps none of them (fAegon I’m looking at you, sweetie) or only one of them will manage to directly cause her death and defeat in the end Sansa will be the younger, more beautiful Queen because all that Cersei held dear and wanted she managed to achieve and she will be remembered the way Cersei wanted to be remembered, which is ultimately imo the true meaning of Maggy the Frog’s prophecy.

#younger more beautiful queen #asoiaf theories #cersei lannister #sansa stark #daenerys targaryen #margaery tyrell #brienne of tarth

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dany-is-my-queen · 3 years

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Born To Be Yours | Part Xl

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baratheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually)

Season 1-8

Word Count: 1,375

Note: Hey guys!! It’s been a year since I started this series and I was really excited to continue, I really was. But months flew by and my life began to take a different course, now, I can’t make promises that I’ll be uploading soon again, though I will try if I have time to spare and my imagination cooperates :) Hope you enjoy this chapter! And thank you all for your patience, it’ll be rewarded!

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9 Pt.10

Months have flew by way too fast. And now you were feeling more confident around the northern lady and your family. You’d keep her from any harm they would try to inflict on her no matter the consequences, yet you were cautions cause Joffrey was still so damn annoying. Though since Margaery arrived to the capital she has been keeping him rather distracted.

“Because the truth is always either terrible or boring.”

“Am I boring?” You approached Sansa from behind, daintily kissing her cheek.

“Not at all.” She answered with a broad simper.

“You shouldn’t be too obvious in plain sight.” Shae subtly advised.

“You are right. We should be more careful.” You peered up to see if the guards were staring your way, when you confirmed they were not you stole a kiss on her silky lips. She giggled.

“Have a lovely day. I’ll meet you later. My grandfather requested my presence.” It was true... Tywin wanted to speak privately with you, and you sort of imagined why.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

“My ladies.” You winked playfully at Sansa before walking away.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Shae asked Sansa well knowing the answer to her own question.

“She is perfect.” She let out a love sigh.

“You trust her?”

“The princess has always treated me with respect. I always dreamed with a handsome knight or a sweet prince, then I met her and she is far more better than any of that.” Sansa confessed.

“She seems to be a good girl.” Lord Baelish approached the two women.

“Lovely day for it. May I speak with lady Sansa alone for a moment?” Shae stood up and walked back to Ros.

“I saw your mother not long ago. She’s very eager to see you. And your sister.” He commented.

“Arya’s alive?”

“Oh yes. Indeed she is. But... I’ve noticed you’ve grown quite attached to princess Y/N.” He chose carefully his words.

“I have. She is and extraordinary friend.” Sansa added. “I’m very lucky to be her friend.”

“You are. I’m waiting for word on an assignment that will take me far away from the capital. When I set sail, I might be able to bring you with me. But you’d need to be ready to leave on a moment’s notice.” Sansa widen her eyes. She didn’t really want to leave now... did she? After all she knew she’ll never be truly free here.

“I... I’m not sure if that’s a wise idea, Lord Baelish.” She conflicted admitted.

“And why’s that? Other than the risks it involves of course.”

“Well, as I said before, King’s Landing is my home now. It has good things despite the corruption.” Only Y/N, she thought.

“All right then. The offer stands, my lady. Keep it in mind.” He turned around to leave Sansa wondering if she’d abandon you to return home or staying here by your side.

“You are glowing, granddaughter of mine.”

Tywin was jotting down something with a quill. “Is there a boy already?” It sounded more like a statement rather than a question. You tried not blush as Sansa’s picture coming to your mind.

“Mmm... no. There is not a... boy.” You concluded kinda nervous.

“If there is not then you should be looking for a suitable swain. I reckon you have many admirers waiting to receive your attention.” He said with a serious tone. Does he really mind? Of course he does. He wants to get a hold of another loyalty for House Lannister. “Many lords would give their whole lands to marry you. And we might need that.”

“But that’s not what I need.” You responded nonchalantly. It was true. All you truly needed and longed for was the love of someone who valued you. And you already found that in a northern lass. You knew he disapprove entirely your “reckless” choices, same as your mother. You’d fight back and won’t allow them to throw you into some random man’s arms.

You stepped inside Joffrey’s dining table. You always enjoyed to hang with the Tyrell siblings, but now that she’s engaged to your brother... you wonder how she’s been managing to handle him. After all, she’s one of the cleverest persons you know.

“Margaery does a great deal of work with the poor back in Hightgarden. I’ve heard Y/N do charity for the poor here as well.” Loras commented. You nodded. The soon to be queen smiled softly your way.

“The lowest among us are no different from the highest if you give them a chance and approach them with an open heart.” You mirrored her act.

“An open heart is what you’ll get in Flee Bottom if you’re not careful, my dear. Not long ago, we were attached by a mob there. We had a full complement of guards that didn’t stop them. The king barely escaped his life.” You hid your smirk.

“My mother’s always had a penchant for drama. Facts become less and less important to her as she grows older. Our lives were never truly in danger.” You rolled your eyes at his lies.

“Oh but they were. You didn’t even care about sending the guards to get lady Sansa back to the Keep. A king is supposed to ensure the safety of all the ones that are in need. You seem to keep failing on that, big brother.” You sensed his furious glare upon you.

“Who cares about her anyway.” You clenched your jaw tightly. Loras and Margaery keep their eyes on their dinner.

There was an awkward pause as the main course was brought to the table. The rest of the evening was all about the same. Joffrey flaunting about his “bravery” and Cersei flattering him all along. Margaery showing off a wide smile at his non sense.

~~~~~~

You strolled to your room exhausted after training with the bow and horse-riding with little Tommen. Before that you decided to pay a visit to Sansa’s chambers. You knocked the door twice and she beamed with delight.

“I hope it isn’t too late to stop by.”

“No, I was about to get under the sheets. Perhaps you can join me?” She suggested with a gaily grin. You chuckled. Seeing Sansa being so... awfully bold was so nice and pure. Being around you made her forget about the fact she’s a prisoner. It didn’t matter as much when you were together.

“I’d love that.” You entered the room, holding her by the waist and leading both of you to the bed.

“How was your day then?” You smoothly asked. She tossed to be face to face with you.

“Actually, it was wonderful! Ser Loras escorted me to the gardens with Lady Margaery and Lady Olenna. They were very kind to me. We had lunch together and chatted for a while.”

“That sounds lovely, my lady. I’ve always consider Lady Olenna as the grandmother I never had. She knows me since I was a baby. Now that they are here I’ve been reminiscing about the good old days when we wouldn’t stop joshing Loras about me beating him on a single duel. We were so young back then... I’ll always hold dear those moments. He may be moody and brash at times, still, he is complete gentleman. Water’s sometimes thicker than blood. That’s for sure.” The Tyrells were your second family, they welcomed you with open arms and never once judge you. Unlike your own blood, with exceptions of course.

“Back in Winterfell I was so focused on learning how to properly be a lady and all that, that I missed many things... I should’ve been closer to Robb, Arya, even Jon. I was mean.” Sansa’s voice cracked.

“Don’t lose faith, Sansa. I know it’s too much to ask for but life takes unexpected turns.” You brushed one of her ginger locks with your right hand.

“I found a new home.” She whispered lightly. “Not Kings Landing. Not this castle. You.” She unhurriedly closed her crystal eyes. Your heart was at her mercy, that was a fact. You caressed gently her cheek and sealed the night with the most tender kiss anyone could dream of.

“You are my home too, my love.” You breathed against her lips.

#game of thrones fic #got #sansa stark x reader #sansa x reader #sansa x fem baratheon reader #sansa stark imagine #dany x reader #daenerys x reader #daenerys targaryen x reader #game of thrones

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magalidragon · 2 years

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11 for the formula 1 / car racers au my fav !! pls

Hello Anon! Here you go!

11. Things you said while drunk.

“We won!”

“You won, love, not we.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dany slurred, tripping over her feet out of the Direwolf, the classic one that Ned kept locked away and only took out once a year. They’d stolen it. Well, Jon stole it. Snatched the keys right off the hook in the garage and poured her into it, zooming off into the night. They had a lot to celebrate, as she had just won her very first professional race.

Take that, to anyone who dared complain, she thought through her haze of one bottle of thirty-year Northern whiskey. She tilted the empty bottle to her lips, but there was only a drop left. She stomped her foot. “Oh darn!”

Jon spun her around. “I’m sober.” He wiggled another bottle in front of her. “Let’s change that, shall we love?”

Love, he drawled, in his raspy accent. Gods, it did things to her. She heard his voice in her ears, as she raced the track earlier, lapping the Lannisters twice. Shouting for her to take that turn or this turn, ease off, ease on, watch her speed, her steering. Sometimes he was too talkative during a race. Other times he wasn’t talkative enough. “I love you,” she murmured, waiting for him to open the bottle and take a long pull, offering her some. Seh sipped and sighed again, grabbing the lapels of his race coveralls, which he still hadn’t taken off yet. “I love you Jon Snow. I have since I was sixteen.”

He nuzzled her neck, turning her towards the Direwolf. They’d lost their virginity to each other in a version of this car, she thought idly, when he stretched her out on the hood. He’d told her loved her for the first time there. It was where she’d mourned Rhaegar with him. Where he’d told her she would be the best racecar driver in all of Westeros one day. And now she was.

One race down, a million more to go.

He worked his way through the bottle as she stared dreamily at the night sky, watching the stars sparkle and counting the faces in the moon. “We're gonna’ be here all night,” she whispered, side-eyeing him as his gray eyes glimmered in a tipsy haze. “Where’d you put the keys?”

“Somewhere in the car. Doesn’t matter. I could stay here forever.”

“A thousand years.”

He cradled the whiskey bottle to his chest with one hand, and her with the other. Fingers delving into her hair, he twisted the strands. “I’m so proud of you.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Soon enough.” He took a few more swigs and soon yes, he was as drunk as her, both of them giggling and pushing at each other, tickling and teasing, like the stupid kids they were, until he fell right off onto the ground, laughing hysterically as she tried to lean over to see how he was. He waved. “Hi Dany!”

“Hi Jon!” She waved back and pillowed her head on her arms, staring over the car hood down at him, in a messy heap below. Her eyebrows wiggled. “What are you doing?”

“Looking at you. Can’t tell what’s the moon and what's' your face.”

“Pretty words.”

He snorted. “Drunk words.”

“I like them.”

He gazed up at her another moment, pure adoration shining back. She smiled and crooked her index finger at him. “Come back up here.”

“In a minute.” He sighed and shook his head slightly, whispering. “Marry me.”

She rolled to her back, stretching like a cat. “You’re drunk Jon.”

“I’m serious. Marry me.”

“We’re too young.” She couldn’t remember how old they were, but she thought maybe she was nineteen.

He got to his feet and then fell to one knee, his arms outstretched, shouting for all to hear. “Daenerys Targaryen, marry me!”

She laughed, unable to stop. “Jon! Shut up! You’re crazy!”

“I’ve never been more sane in my life!” He stumbled upright and fell onto the hood over her, nuzzling her nose with his whispering. “I love you. I want you to marry me. Have babies with me. Race cars with me. Stay with me. For always.”

It was an appealing prospect. They already lived together. They’d never spent a day apart since she moved to the Winterfell estate with Rhaegar when she was a kid. She shared her very soul with this man. He encouraged her to race. Told her she could do it. She would be the best. He’d build her cars. He’d coach her. He’d race too. They would take the world. Together.

She nodded, her hands cradling his jaw, nails scratching his beard. “Yes Jon Snow. I’ll marry you.”

“Drive off into the sunset with me?” he breathed. He smiled over her mouth, stroking her face. “That’s the happy ending in movies, right?”

It wasn’t a movie, but it felt like one, so she nodded. “Yes,” she agreed. “We’ll race off into the sunset, happily ever after.”

Things you said ficlet prompts

#jonerys #jonerys au #my fics #jonerys fanfic #things you said prompts

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the-king-andthe-lionheart · 3 years

Text

So this is definitely in response to that certain dark section of our fandom (you know exactly who you are) who are throwing a fit about the Arya and Daenerys fandoms enjoying the possibility of a canon Daenarya friendship in the future. So let’s look at all the quotes that possibly foreshadow a future Arya and Dany friendship and put it into context.

It was very dark right now, she realized. She hugged her bare knees tight against her chest and shivered. She would wait quietly and count to ten thousand. By then it would be safe for her to come creeping back out and find her way home.

By the time she had reached eighty-seven, the room had begun to lighten as her eyes adjusted to the blackness. Slowly the shapes around her took on form. Huge empty eyes stared at her hungrily through the gloom, and dimly she saw the jagged shadows of long teeth. She had lost the count. She closed her eyes and bit her lip and sent the fear away. When she looked again, the monsters would be gone. Would never have been. She pretended that Syrio was beside her in the dark, whispering in her ear. Calm as still water, she told herself. Strong as a bear. Fierce as a wolverine. She opened her eyes again.

The monsters were still there, but the fear was gone.

Arya got to her feet, moving warily. The heads were all around her. She touched one, curious, wondering if it was real. Her fingertips brushed a massive jaw. It felt real enough. The bone was smooth beneath her hand, cold and hard to the touch. She ran her fingers down a tooth, black and sharp, a dagger made of darkness. It made her shiver.

"It's dead," she said aloud. "It's just a skull, it can't hurt me." Yet somehow the monster seemed to know she was there. She could feel its empty eyes watching her through the gloom, and there was something in that dim, cavernous room that did not love her. She edged away from the skull and backed into a second, larger than the first. For an instant she could feel its teeth digging into her shoulder, as if it wanted a bite of her flesh. Arya whirled, felt leather catch and tear as a huge fang nipped at her jerkin, and then she was running. Another skull loomed ahead, the biggest monster of all, but Arya did not even slow. She leapt over a ridge of black teeth as tall as swords, dashed through hungry jaws, and threw herself against the door. - Arya III AGOT

Here is the initial passage that has to do with dragons in Arya’s story. She comes across the dragon skulls in the dark and feels afraid of them. She feels as if the eyes of the skulls were watching her and did not like her. She also doesn’t recognize them for what they are. She initially refers to them as monsters, but later she comes to realize they are dragons:

This time the monsters did not frighten her. They seemed almost old friends. Arya held the candle over her head. With each step she took, the shadows moved against the walls, as if they were turning to watch her pass. "Dragons," she whispered. She slid Needle out from under her cloak. The slender blade seemed very small and the dragons very big, yet somehow Arya felt better with steel in her hand. - Arya IV AGOT

Now admittedly the first quote does sound like the foreshadowing could suggest antagonism between Arya and Dany, but the second quote doesn’t suggest this. Arya thinks of them as if they are old friends. That is the most notable sentence of the paragraph, not the fact that she slid Needle out. But when you actually look at this paragraph you actually see a duality here. The monsters did not frighten her. They seemed almost old friends. Yet she slides her blade out and feels better? So for me this quote just seems to foreshadow that Dany will be Arya’s friend, yet Arya will remain wary of her dragons like anyone naturally would be.

So putting these two quotes into context, it tells us that if Arya and Dany will meet they will initially be antagonistic and wary of each other (most Daenarya fans I’ve seen acknowledge this will likely be the case). However it also suggests that this wariness will eventually fade and they will become friends. Arya doesn’t need to think she is wholly safe from the dragons to have a friendship with Dany. EVERYONE is wary about the dragons, just like most people would be unsure and most likely afraid if they were in the same room as a large cat or a bear.

But this isn’t Arya’s only dragon connections in the narrative. Arya’s closest relationship is with Jon, who is half Targaryen. In Braavos Arya is fascinated by the courtesans and the Black Pearl in particular:

"The Black Pearl," she told them. Merry claimed the Black Pearl was the most famous courtesan of all. "She's descended from the dragons, that one," the woman had told Cat. "The first Black Pearl was a pirate queen. A Westerosi prince took her for a lover and got a daughter on her, who grew up to be a courtesan. Her own daughter followed her, and her daughter after her, until you get to this one [...] - Cat of the Canals AFFC

The woman with him could not have been more than a third his age. She was so lovely that the lamps seemed to burn brighter when she passed. She had dressed in a low-cut gown of pale yellow silk, startling against the light brown of her skin. Her black hair was bound up in a net of spun gold, and a jet-and-gold necklace brushed against the top of her full breasts. As they watched, she leaned close to the envoy and whispered something in his ear that made him laugh. "They should call her the Brown Pearl," Mercy said to Daena. "She's more brown than black."

"The first Black Pearl was black as a pot of ink," said Daena. "She was a pirate queen, fathered by a Sealord's son on a princess from the Summer Isles. A dragon king from Westeros took her for his lover."

"I would like to see a dragon," Mercy said wistfully. - Mercy TWOW

There is even foreshadowing that Arya will form a closer relationship with the Black Pearl in the future by becoming an apprentice for her so Arya can refine her highborn manners so it’s easier for the FM to place her into highborn society to do their work, because why not utilize a highborn girl in this way?

But also notice that Arya/Mercy is friends with a girl named “Daena” which is ridiculously close to the name Daenerys. And in the same conversation with Daena (Daenerys) Arya/Mercy also said she wished to see a dragon. And no this isn’t “Mercy’s” wish, this is Arya’s wish:

As Arya crossed the yard to the bathhouse, she spied a raven circling down toward the rookery, and wondered where it had come from and what message it carried. Might be it's from Robb, come to say it wasn't true about Bran and Rickon. She chewed on her lip, hoping. If I had wings I could fly back to Winterfell and see for myself. And if it was true, I'd just fly away, fly up past the moon and the shining stars, and see all the things in Old Nan's stories, dragons and sea monsters and the Titan of Braavos, and maybe I wouldn't ever fly back unless I wanted to. - Arya X ACOK

Doesn’t really sound like Arya hates dragons or have any issues regarding them. She wants to see them irregardless of any fear they may inspire within her that everyone would naturally have upon seeing a dragon.

Arya also expresses a wish to fly throughout her narrative and she also has wing symbolism in her arc:

If I was a crow I could fly down and peck off his stupid fat pouty lips. - Arya X ACOK

If I had wings I could fly back to Winterfell and see for myself. And if it was true, I'd just fly away, fly up past the moon and the shining stars, and see all the things in Old Nan's stories, dragons and sea monsters and the Titan of Braavos, and maybe I wouldn't ever fly back unless I wanted to. - Arya X ACOK

I wish I could change into a wolf and grow wings and fly away. - Arya XIII ASOS

She might be bald and skinny, but Mercy had a pretty smile, and a certain grace. Even Izembaro agreed that she was graceful. She was not far from the Gate as the crows flies, but for girls with feet instead of wings the way was longer. - Mercy TWOW

Also lets not forget how similar Arya and Dany are to each other and how many parallels they share. They are both lost princesses exiled and sent to Essos, specifically Braavos, after their father's deaths at the hands of Lannister's. They each know what it's like to be bought and sold and to be enslaved – Dany as a child bride and Arya as a child soldier. And they both have pretenders trying to take their claims. Both have been forced into becoming smallfolk, living in poverty and starved. And they both know what it's like to be hunted and scared. They adapt exceedingly well into other environments and cultures, and their morality and sense of justice are very attuned, as they seek to protect those that can not protect themselves. Very protective, they are both empathetic and maternal and care for the sick, ailing, and dying. Both of them are survivors and have both suffered abuse and sexual assault (more so for Dany, but it's still there). They are both clever and know how to manipulate people. They are both polyglots and both of their deepest desires are for home and family/pack. They both try to live up to the image of their older siblings (ie Sansa and Rhaegar). Arya is said to look and act like Lyanna and Daenerys is compared to Rhaegar by the people that knew him. They are both very close to their house sigils and even dream about them and the mystical beasts they both own. They both love horseback riding and they both have encountered mystical prophets. Wanted/considered becoming sailors and they both have fantastic people skills. Not to mention that it was Arya who said that the slaves should have killed the masters, while Dany is leading a slave uprising to overthrow and yes, execute the masters.

Dany is also not some “mad queen” and she does listen to the people who knew her father and Rhaegar. She is learning the truth about the monster her father was and learning to accept that. So there is no reason why Dany should continue to feel antagonistic towards the next generation of Stark’s for something they didn’t do.

I’ve also seen comments about how the fire devastation that is within Arya’s story must clearly mean “Dark Dany” and that Arya and Dany will be antagonistic towards each other in canon when they meet. I’m assuming these people are referring to the burning barn scene:

"You take her!" she yelled. "You get her out! You do it!" The fire beat at her back with hot red wings as she fled the burning barn. It felt blessedly cool outside, but men were dying all around her. She saw Koss throw down his blade to yield, and she saw them kill him where he stood. Smoke was everywhere. There was no sign of Yoren, but the axe was where Gendry had left it, by the woodpile outside the haven. As she wrenched it free, a mailed hand grabbed her arm. Spinning, Arya drove the head of the axe hard between his legs. She never saw his face, only the dark blood seeping between the links of his hauberk. Going back into that barn was the hardest thing she ever did. Smoke was pouring out the open door like a writhing black snake, and she could hear the screams of the poor animals inside, donkeys and horses and men. She chewed her lip, and darted through the doors, crouched low where the smoke wasn't quite so thick.

A donkey was caught in a ring of fire, shrieking in terror and pain. She could smell the stench of burning hair. The roof was gone up too, and things were falling down, pieces of flaming wood and bits of straw and hay. Arya put a hand over her mouth and nose. She couldn't see the wagon for the smoke, but she could still hear Biter screaming. She crawled toward the sound. - Arya IV ACOK

Arya rolled headfirst into the tunnel and dropped five feet. She got dirt in her mouth but she didn't care, the taste was fine, the taste was mud and water and worms and life. Under the earth the air was cool and dark. Above was nothing but blood and roaring red and choking smoke and the screams of dying horses. She moved her belt around so Needle would not be in her way, and began to crawl. A dozen feet down the tunnel she heard the sound, like the roar of some monstrous beast, and a cloud of hot smoke and black dust came billowing up behind her, smelling of hell. Arya held her breath and kissed the mud on the floor of the tunnel and cried. For whom, she could not say. - Arya IV ACOK

This chapter does not mean that Dany is going to go “evil” or “mad” and start burning stuff to the ground. You guys do remember that Dany has three dragons right? And that Dany is only the dragonrider to Drogon? That leaves two other possible dragons that could be stolen from Dany. We have Euron/Victarion who has the dragon binder horn and then we have Aegon who may or may not be able to claim one of those dragons for himself. There is also the possibility that Euron dies or Aegon dies and someone else will take their places as dragonriders via Targaryen blood or use of that horn. So besides Dany we have Aegon, Jon, Euron, and Tyrion who may all ride dragons within the story as they all have the proper set-up and foreshadowing for it to be a possibility. So why is it the automatic assumption that it will be Dany burning shit down?

Not to mention, wildfire has the same types of language used as the two quotes above:

And then some vast beast had let out a roar, and green flames were all around them: wildfire, pyromancer's piss, the jade demon [...] From bank to bank there was nothing but burning ships and wildfire. The sight of it seemed to stop his heart for a moment, and he could still remember the sound of it, the crackle of flames, the hiss of steam, the shrieks of dying men, and the beat of that terrible heat against his face as the current swept him down toward hell. - Davos I ASOS

So considering there not only is there a ton of foreshadowing that it will be Cersei who destroys King’s Landing with wildfire, but also there is foreshadowing that Jon Connington will do something incredibly drastic to win and keep the Iron Throne for Aegon. And may I remind the audience that the fires Arya went through and experienced in the Riverlands had zero to do with Dany. They were the direct result of the Lannisters.

So if Arya IV ACOK is foreshadowing a future fire she is stuck in, there is no evidence that the fire will be caused by Dany nor that the fire is dragonfire. And if you are going to point out the show as evidence, let me tell you something, go to the youtuber The Dragon Demands and watch his videos dissecting everything about the scene of Dany burning King’s Landing by using the script, listening to BtS content, looking at the storyboards, actually noting that a scene of Cersei looking out the window, depicting her watching people put barrels of wildfire on the battlements, etc. Because the compilation he makes proves that Dany burning KL the way that she did in 8x05 was a last minute change. It was supposed to be an accidental wildfire explosion before they changed it so they could justify Jon killing her. But I’m sure even with the evidence you’ll still cling to the idea of Dark!Dany because you are incredibly insecure about your fictitious ship and your blatant mischaracterization of your favorite “pure as the driven snow /s” character, because there is literally nothing in the books that foreshadows Dany going “mad” or “dark”. So why don’t you take your jealousies about Daenerys and Arya and the very possible Daenarya friendship somewhere else.

#arya stark #daenerys targaryen #asoiaf

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damn-stark · 1 year

Text

Chapter 7 I see dead people

Chapter 7 of Sandstorm

A/N- someone’s Targaryen realness comes out in this chapter…someone learns after a very distant great grandfather named Daemon ;)

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, fluff, incest, ANGST, talks of pregnancy, death, blood, ALSO THERES CHANGES THAT DRIFT AWAY FROM THE SHOW (not big, but there is)

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

Episode- 8x03

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Every shuddered breath releases a cloud of air in the cold bitter sky that soon gets lost within the thrashing violent winds. As much as you’ve really wanted to admire the snow, getting hit by it, feeling as if it’s little needles against your flesh, makes snow irritating. And getting lost within the raging storm makes it a true nightmare

You had been helping burn the dead below, but the storm came and clouded the battlefield, it clouded your eyesight too, to the point you can’t see past Eraxis’s face. You try to fly up, above the storm, but as Eraxis tries, suddenly something crashes against her, making you get jerked back.

It’s a damn good thing you’re restrained on your damn saddle or else you would have fallen already.

Regardless, when you open your eyes and look over you see it, Viserion and that damn bastard, the Night King.

This is it, you think, this can end here. “Dracarys!” You shout.

Eraxis blows out fire, burning away the snow that fell, and clouds that had blocked your view. However, when you try to see if Viserion is burning, or if the Night King is dead, they’re not there anymore.

“Damn it!” You bellow. “Fuck!”

You nudge the handles up, and Eraxis quickly flies out of the storm, letting you see the beautiful swirling cloud above the ground, letting you see Daenerys and Drogon across from you.

She can’t hear you so you don’t even try to talk, instead you point down, hoping she’ll understand to get close to the trench so can light it when they give the sign.

Daenerys seems to understand and nods before both of your dragons fly down. Yet it’s that moment that you lose sight of each other again, you’re lost within the stupid storm again unable to see anything, not even if you’re close to the ground. You can’t even try to blow out fire because there might be living people there.

It makes you feel useless, utterly useless because you can’t even spot the Night King anymore.

“Fuck,” you mutter. “Fuck!” Your shout gets lost in the wind.

Eraxis flies lower, hoping she’ll be closer to the ground. You can hear the groans from the dead, their screeching, you can hear the battle shouts, the cries. But you can’t see a thing.Not until suddenly fire blasts out a few feet below Eraxis, causing you to quickly snap your head down, and noticing the trench spark to life.

And even if it’s just for a bit, you feel relieved as the raging flames engulf every running wight. Your adrenaline spikes at that sight, it fills you with motivation and rage.

——

*RHAENAR*

“Do you want to see?” He asks the young girl with a scar on half of her face.

The girl lowers her gaze to the orange hatchling in awe and nods slowly.

Rhaenar grins and pulls out a piece of meat to place it before his hatchlings feet. “Helios,” he speaks, making the little dragon lift its head to meet the boy's gaze. “Dracarys.”

The hatchling lowers his gaze and steps back, it tilts its head and then blows out a small puff of fire from its mouth and cooks its piece of meat before it scarves it down.

The girl's eyes widen, but not with fear, she doesn’t seem fearful anymore, she seems impressed; she giggles and claps her hands, making the boy's cheeks burn and his smile go timid.

“May I try it?” She asks with a bit of excitement.

Rhaenar sighs. “Well, Helios will only listen to me, but you can throw his meat up in the air, he’ll fly up and burn it before he eats it.”

“Okay,” the girl doesn’t fret to agree.

Rhaenar grins brighter and pulls out another piece of meat to hand it to the girl. Helios turns and watches the piece of food in her hand, and waits.

“Alright,” Rhaenar says and glances at the girl. “Ready—”

Yet before he can tell the girl to do the trick, suddenly an arm wraps around her wrist and she gets pulled off the ground. Rhaenar looks up and sees an older lady staring down at him and avoiding looking at the dragon beside him.

“Come on,” the lady urges the girl, making her drop the piece of meat she carried in her hand. She then gets taken further away from him and deeper into the crowd of women hiding within the crypts.

And now that the girl is no longer visible he looks down at his dragon and frowns as he begins to wonder what he’s done wrong to be treated so poorly. People in Sunspear, people he’s met in other parts of the world aren’t like they are here, rude and distant. Sure people are scared of dragons, but why are they scared of him too?

None of the mothers here ever let any of their kids train with him, or let them talk to him, they take them away and he’s left talking with the adults he’s with. They’re nice but they aren’t his age….

Oh how much he’d give to go back home and talk to his aunts again, Obella, Dorea and Loreza, they’d be excited about Helios, and they’d for sure talk with him.

“May I try?” A sweet and feminine voice interjects.

Rhaenar looks up and sees Lady Sansa before him. She isn’t his age, but it’s better than sitting alone.

“Sure,” he agrees and watches her sit across from him and in front of Helios.

“I’ve heard his name is Helios?” Sansa queries.

Rhaenar nods in agreement. “Yes, it means sun,” he shares.

“Well,” Sansa says with a small smile. “Don’t tell your mother but I think my favorite dragon is yours. He’s very beautiful. He looks like a fire flame.”

Rhaenar begins to smile. “I won’t, but you should see my….” He trails off as he remembers that he’s forbidden from telling anyone about you being with a child. “My mothers,” he plays it off. “At night when the moon shines on Eraxis she’s the most beautiful, my uncle Doran said it’s a reflection of my mother,” he grins and lets Helios climb on his arm.

Sansa hums and doesn’t think twice about what he was actually going to say, even if she wanted to try Rhaenar then picks the piece of meat off the ground and hands it to her.

“Okay,” he sighs and glances at his hatchling. “Helios, <focus.>” He commands the dragon in High Valyrian.

The dragon turns its head to lock his eyes on the piece of meat in Sansa’s hand.

“And,” he points at Sansa, “now. Throw it.”

Sansa flings the piece of meat up in the air and Helios follows it with his eyes, whilst Rhaenar quickly throws out, “Dracarys.”

Without hesitation Helios flaps its little orange and yellow wings to fly off Rhaenar’s shoulder and burn the piece of meat before catching it and eating it.

Sansa smiles in disbelief and watches the hatchling land beside Rhaenar. “I’m sure Arya will be jealous when I tell her.”

Rhaenar meets Sansa’s gaze and holds back his smile. Sansa notices his stifled gesture and probes. “What?”

“Arya has already done it,” Rhaenar shares. “When she showed me some of her moves she learned from the faceless men. She even held Helios.” He begins to smirk. “She thought she could beat me at naming all the dragons, but I won because she forgot about Prince Lucerys Targaryen’s dragon, Arrax.”

“Of course she’s already grabbed the dragon,” Sansa comments.

Rhaenar looks down at the ground and begins to frown. “Do you think…” he pauses and lets out a deep breath. “Do you think my mother will survive? I know she’s strong, I know Eraxis will never let anything or anyone hurt her, but she can still get hurt….and if she gets hurt…if she dies….then…” he swallows thickly. “I’ll be alone.”

Sansa lets out a small breath and tilts her head down so she can meet his gaze. “Your mother will make it. She’ll live. I may not know her well, but one thing I do know about her is that she really loves you and that she’ll never think about leaving you alone in this world.”

Rhaenar sniffles and offers her a soft smile. “That’s good to hear.”

Sansa laughs softly and nods in agreement. “That is, isn't it? Besides from the sounds of it it seems that the trench is lit, there should be less of them out there, the battle should end soon.”

Rhaenar sighs in relief and watches Sansa stand to her feet. “Come on,” she invites him. “Let’s sit over here.”

Rhaenar quickly scoops up Helios and then runs over to sit beside Sansa against a wall.

Silence follows after that, dreadful silence as everyone listens to the battle raging above, as everyone waits for it to be over. Yet that silence doesn't last long.

“At least we’re already in a crypt,” Lord Varys interjects.

Rhaenar scoffs in distaste, but the guards beside him snicker.

“If we were up there,” Tyrion suddenly adds. “We might see something everyone else is missing. Something that makes a difference.”

Lord Varys scoffs, causing Tyrion to turn around quickly and snap back.

“What? Remember the Battle of Blackwater? I brought us through the Mud Gate.”

“And got your face cut in half,” Lord Varys reminds him, making Rhaenar glance over at Tyrion as he finally knows why he has that scar across his face.

“And it made a difference,” Tyrion counters. “If I was out there right now—”

“You’d die,” Sansa cuts him off. “There’s nothing you can do,” she continues as he looks over at him.

That’s quite brutal.

Rhaenar looks down to check for Lord Tyrion’s reaction, and sees him throw his wine aside to grab another as he strides towards Lady Sansa to argue back in his own defense. “You might be surprised at the lengths I’d go to avoid joining the Army of the Dead. I can think of no organization less suited to my talents.”

“Witty remarks won’t make a difference,” Sansa says. “That’s why we’re down here, none of us can do anything. It’s the truth. It’s the most heroic thing we can do now…look the truth in the face.”

Once again her words are quite brutal, but…Rhaenar likes it. How honest she can be but still mean it in a good way.

“Maybe we should’ve stayed married,” Tyrion comments quietly.

“You were the best of them.”

They were married? Rhaenar wonders in shock.

“What a terrifying thought,” Tyrion says, making Sansa smile. But only briefly.

“It wouldn't work between us,” Sansa adds in a more serious tone.

“Why not?” He probes.

“The Dragon Queen,” she shares, making Rhaenar begin to slowly furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “Your divided loyalties would become a problem.”

“Yes,” Rhaenar hears Missandei cut in. And when he looks at her he sees her look upset. “Without the Dragon Queen, there’d be no problem at all. We’d all be dead already.” She stands up and walks off, leaving an awkward silence. Leaving Rhaenar stuck. Does he go with Missandei, or stay with Sansa?

Missandei was right, his aunt Daenerys was only trying to help, can’t they see that?

On the other hand Sansa is now family too because of you and Jon getting married.

He’s stuck and he can’t be rude to either of them, he can’t bring himself to do it, so instead he just goes off and sits somewhere else and waits alone in silence again.

——

The snow keeps falling, the storm keeps raging, but the trench provides light. It lets you see a shadow of a dragon between the thick storm clouds.

Daenerys is across from you so it’s not her and Drogon, Jon and Rhaegal are no longer waiting by the Godswood…it must be them…or the Night King and Viserion. Whoever it is, they’ll fight soon, Jon is going to need help, he’s an inexperienced flier and can't fight the Night King alone.

So without a second to waste you nudge Eraxis up, and she quickly follows orders, choosing to fly away from the field and fly up further in the storm cloud. Once within the blizzard though, it’s hard to see again, you try to rely on shadows brightened by the moon's light, but that too is obscured.

Only flying will help.

Eraxis flies further up until she’s out of the storm and in the clearing, letting you look down. Yet just as you squint your eyes a figure emerges from inside, it’s…Jon.

You sigh in relief and without a command Eraxis flies to Rhaegal. Once you’re close the first thing you do is lift yourself off your seat to study Jon to make sure he isn’t injured.

As Jon feels your stare, he quickly meets your gaze before he looks at you up and down too. Once you’re both assured by your current injured status you both offer each other an assuring nod before you both look down. And actually as you do, you catch Drogon and Daenerys meeting up with the four of you.

Now to wait for the Night King in the silence and beauty of the night sky, above the destructive swirling storm cloud.

You wait and wait until suddenly a blast of blue flames bursts below Eraxis and Rhaegal seconds before Viserion rams between the two dragons and shoves them back, causing your body to jerk back as you’re caught off guard, and making Eraxis roar out in anger.

Rheagal and Jon get lost below in the cloud, and as Eraxis proceeds to fix herself, you have to quickly tighten your hold around your handles and lean forward. You then snap your eyes up and can’t help your gasp as you catch Viserion chasing after Drogon and Daenerys, and blasting out more of that blue majestic flame at their tail.

“<Come on,>” you mutter to Eraxis.

Without a fault Eraxis shoots up and quickly catches up to the dead dragon.

“Dracarys!” You bellow out with a smug smile as you’re at its tail.

Eraxis opens her mouth and fire erupts through the dark clouds. At the feeling of the heat at the tip of its tail, Viserion closes his mouth and tucks his wing back to then tilt to the side and fall down so as to not get caught in your dragon's wrath.

Drogon then stops flying and turns, letting you meet Daenerys gaze and share a worried glance she understands, and nods at so you’re not worried.

You offer her a gentle smile before you point your eyes below. She looks down too and when you meet each other's gaze again you both know to chase after Viserion and the Night King.

Rhaegal and Jon finally fly down to the clearing, letting you share the same understanding look with Jon that you just shared with Daenerys.

Jon understands it and without a second to waste, Rhaegal and Jon shoot down. Your lips pull to a smirk at the sight of your…husband flying down and quickly follow him too. Yet nevertheless Eraxis and you get lost again in the thickness of the blizzard. The sight of Jon and Rhaegal are no longer visible, and the sound of flapping wings is drowned out by the sound of the violent and icy wind.

Out of fear you’d hit Rhaegal and Jon you don’t let Eraxis throw out fire to light the way, so instead you navigate blindly basically and keep flying down. You close your eyes and try to focus more on the sounds to try and hear fighting, or a nearby dragon.

Albeit for the first few minutes all you hear is the howling of the wind hitting your ears.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter and fix your grip on your handles.

Eraxis keeps flying to try and spot them, but then suddenly screeches out. You snap your eyes open and squint your gaze to look around. And just as expected, you spot two dragons fighting below, yet you can’t make out who’s who from above.

Eraxis nevertheless tucks her wings back and flies down, you continue watching the battle and carefully study the dragons as they snap at each other to try and rip each other apart in any way they can. As you get closer you finally spot the difference, Viserion has holes in his wings and an almost icy complexion. So before he or the Night King can spot you, Eraxis leans down further to quicken her pace.

Once Eraxis is close, and just as Rhaegal rips out Viserions jaw, Eraxis slightly lifts her body up to slam her claws in Viserion and shove him down.

The Night King is caught off guard so he loses his grip, and you watch him hurdle down to the ground….

Fuck.

Fuck!

You pant and keep your eyes on him until he’s lost in the clouds. When you look up to check on Jon and Rhaegal, all you see is Drogon and Daenerys flying down after the Night King, there’s just no Jon—

Rhaegal must’ve gotten hurt.

Jon won’t be able to hold on if Rhaegal is losing control.

“I’m coming,” you murmur and nudge Eraxis down.

Yet just as you try to fly down, Viserions torn mouth suddenly clamps onto Eraxis neck, causing you to groan as your body is slammed to the side harshly.

Luckily the restraints hold you in place so you don’t fall. And what’s even luckier is that Eraxis is somewhat okay, she quickly retaliates by digging her claws in his belly and swinging down, making him screech out in pain.

Eraxis then pushes back and shoots fire at him, Viserion avoids the flame and dives down to try and attack Eraxis from below, but your dragon is quick and twists her body around, hitting the dead dragon in the face with her tail.

“<Come on girl,>” you encourage your dragon and watch as she turns to face Viserion again. This time as he tries to lunge at her you unsheath your double bladed spear from behind you to try and hurl it in Viserions mouth.

However, just as Eraxis and Viserion slam into one another and grip onto each other by the claws, they begin dancing through the sky violently. You try to continue aiming at his eye, even as they keep thrashing around, but then, from the corner of your eye you spot an opening and quickly pull your handles to the right instead.

Eraxis then sees what you do and bites down on Viserion’s wing and pulls back hard, managing to rip his wing partially off his body.

Viserion cries out, and you grin in disbelief. However, he still doesn’t let go of Eraxis, he holds onto her, digging his claws in her legs and pulling her down with him, making you thrash around. Eraxis tries to bite at him but he pulls back and shoots out his blue flames.

You quickly duck from the flames trajectory and barely miss getting hit. Eraxis knows that and gets more pissed off at the same time you do, so out of a fit of rage, as they’re both hurdling down at a rapid speed, she lunges at his neck.

Viserion finally lets go of her, but she bites down harder and keeps pulling him down. When you glance down you’re now a few feet away from crashing in the castle.

“Eraxis!” You yell out to try and get her to fly up.

Alas, just as she’s letting go, he bites on her shoulder. He wants to tear off her wing too.

You look down again and see you’re closer to the castle, it’s still quite a fall, but if you don’t help get rid of him he’ll only cause destruction. Besides, Eraxis is good, she’ll catch you. Right?

Fuck hopefully….

You let out a shaky breath and clench your hands around your spear before you pull at the strap on your left leg.

That one comes off quickly, but when you switch to the other side and pull, the buckle gets stuck.

“DAMN IT!” You yell and yank again, but it doesn’t budge. “FUCK!” Without another choice you use your spear to cut it off.

When you do the restraint is released but you also manage to cut your leg. “Agh! Fuck!” You cry out.

Yet there’s no time to wallow, even with the sharp pain you stand off your saddle. You don’t glance down anymore and swing your other leg off the saddle, you clench your jaw into a grimace and narrow your gaze on Viserion as he keeps digging his teeth in Eraxis’s shouder, as they both keep twirling down to the castle.

You let out a deep breath and grab onto one her spikes along her neck as you begin to crawl up her neck to reach her head. Your wounded leg keeps slipping off her side, but you hold on tighter and just quicken your pace until you reach the top of her head.

The breeze is quick, and the snow is sharp along your skin, barely letting you see or move. The fall from the looks of it isn’t far anymore, but you’d still break your bones or die—but he’d only damage the castle and kill more people, or even kill Eraxis. You have to do this….

You let out a deep shaky breath, bend your knees a bit before you let go of one of her spikes and break into a sprint down her head. When you reach her forehead you finally jump down.

As gravity rapidly pulls you down towards Viserion, you hastily grab your spear with both hands and throw your arms up. Just as you’re falling down to the dragon you let out a mighty cry before you swing down to stab his icy flesh.

Viserion screech’s out in protest and begins to squirm. You begin to slide the spear down his neck as you fall, until suddenly Viserion explodes into a thousands of ice shards, making you lose your grip and finally hurdle down towards the stone castle.

However, Eraxis spots you right away and flies to you, making you crash your side on her body and roll down. Luckily before you can slip off her body you manage to grip onto one of her spikes and stop. Yet since she’s falling down fast and can’t take flight right away, she crashes down in the castle hard, making you lose your grip.

This time a pile of dead bodies breaks your fall. But that’s where the problem starts, the wights spot you, hear you groan in pain, and come sprinting at you. Without a different choice you snap your eyes around and notice your spear a few feet away. You try to stand to go get it but your leg shoots out sharp throbbing pains, making you stumble back to your hands and knees, and leaving you to crawl rapidly towards your weapon as the dead continue to chase after you.

They get closer and closer as you approach your weapon. And just as you slap your hand on it and wrap your fingers around the spear, a hand wraps around your ankle and begins to pull you back. You yelp, and then nails dig in your flesh, making you cry out louder.

You swing back to try and hit them with your spear, but another wight throws itself on you, making you lose your spear and feel its stench on your neck and its bones on your back. It actually tries to stab you, but the armor you wear stops its attempts.

“Back off!” You bellow and thrash your body around. Yet one wight keeps pulling, and the one above you paralyzes you. As you peek up you see it lift its blade again, aiming at your neck.

Alas, just as it’s about to stab you, suddenly the wight that has you by your ankles lets go, and the one above you falls limb on you before it gets thrown off. You quickly flip around to see who your savior was, and for a second, as the flames behind their figure drowns them out, as they blind your eyesight, for a second you picture your father; his eyes, his tall figure. For a moment in time you imagine your father.

That is until they crouch down and offer you their hand, that’s when you finally recognize who stands above you, Jaime Lannister.

“Quickly,” he breaks you from your stupor. “Take my hand.”

You glance at his hand in shock, and having no other choice you take his hand and let him help you up. Yet you quickly regret putting weight on your leg because you instantly feel the pain from your wound intensify.

“Here,” he says and hands you your spear. “Let’s go.”

He lets go of you and begins to lead the way to the stairs so you can follow, however as you try to run the pain forbids you.

“I can’t run,” you mutter and shake your head. “My leg,” you groan.

Jaime stops and looks back at you before glancing at your leg and seeing the wound that’s visible through the gape in your pants.

“Eraxis, I need to get to her.” You mutter and quickly look around, seeing her struggling to get off her feet as the dead begin to mount her. “No,” you gasp and run to the hole that was on the wall so you can climb down the pile of dead wights to reach her below. But Jaime then runs backs to you and grabs you by your arm to begin pulling you away.

“No,” you argue. “I need to help her.”

“Only you’ll die before you can even reach her,” he argues and begins to pull you down the wooden staircase.

You snap your head back and see her barely managing to gain some momentum off the ground with each weak flap. Some dead cling onto her, desperate to try and get a good hit, but she shakes them off and flies higher up, letting you comfort yourself with the thought that now at least she won’t get injured further, or die, she can fly off and join you later. She’ll be okay.

Nevertheless, now that you’re on the ground you’re only welcomed with the sight of more dead everywhere, both wights and people. There’s even a corpse of a giant, and Lady Mormont dead beside it. As far as wights there’s a few left fighting the living, still…a few is one too many.

“Stay here,” Jaime commands you as puts you behind Lady Brienne and her squire.

You shake your head and snap back, “I can fight. I may not be on my dragon, but I can fight.” Without waiting for anyone to argue back you limp forward to stand in between him and Lady Brienne.

In that moment however, just as you fix your stance and get ready to welcome any wight that comes your way, suddenly dead bodies everywhere begin to rise up, all of them, every single one of them displaying those same glowing icy blue eyes, and making chills crawl all over your body.

“Fuck,” you mutter and grip onto your spear.

They don’t attack right away, they slowly turn as if they’re grasping their surroundings. Once they spot all the living then they run and lunge, making you act fast and counter each one of their moves, making you kill each and every one that comes your way.

This time there are no breaks, or waiting up in the sky. Down here every single second was a matter of life or death. It makes you thankful for all those hours that you spent training.

——

*RHAENAR*

“Shh. Shh.”

Besides the smell of dirt, now a different stench infiltrated the crypts, something putrid…

Death.

Now rather than whisperings filling the space, pained cries and screeches echoed around, both from the dead and those dying.

Two of Rhaenar’s personal guards had died, one trying to protect some woman, and the other trying to protect him. He wanted to fight, get rid of the wights that were around the room searching for bodies to kill, but the other two guards forced him to hide behind a statue. So as of now all he could do was stay still and quiet in hopes none of the dead would try and kill him too. He had to wait even if he heard people dying.

He closes his eyes and tries to cover his ears so it can go by faster by, so he couldn’t hear the fearful shrieks. But then in that moment a sharp cry rings out and he can’t stand just sitting, so he puts his dragon on his shoulder and springs into action, even if his guards keep telling him otherwise.

There are many bodies, many people hiding behind statues of their own, there are many dead roaming and it scares him; seeing their skulls, their moving skeletons, terrifies him to his very core, makes him want to freeze and search for you, but he ignores it all, all of it and follows the sound of the cries.

Once he reaches where it comes from he sees the woman from before, the one who had pulled the girl away as they tried to just be friends. The lady is being dragged by a wight, so without hesitation Rhaenar lifts his spear and stabs the wight through the skull, letting the woman live. Another wight proceeds to come running behind him, he can hear the footsteps against the stone ground, so without even saying a thing the dragon flaps its yellow and orange wings to hover by Rhaenar, whilst he spun around swiftly and swung on the wight. The dragon then blows out its little puff of fire and manages to burn the wight enough to kill it.

“Hide,” Rhaenar tells the lady as he faces the wights that came after him.

The lady drags herself up and nods rapidly before she runs off, leaving him and his guards that finally caught up with him to fight as hard as they could.

——

They won’t stop coming, there are more and more dead, they swarm everyone who is left fighting, they swarm you…try to anyway. They keep you busy, focused on only them, on your life and the life you carry within you.

Yet the moment you catch Jon across the yard all your attention is instantly just driven to his blood covered face, the fear and panic in his dark eyes. Ser Jaime had told you to stay behind him and Lady Brienne, but if Jon isn’t on Rheagal, if he’s here it means he’s going to try and go to Bran, and there’s so many dead between Jon and the Godswood. You just got married, you won’t lose him too.

So quickly you depart from the group you were fighting beside and slide under flinging arms of the dead to run after Jon.

Nevertheless, the dead keep getting in your way, those who aren’t busy trying to kill the other living try to come after you, and so as to not fall behind you just swerve past them, or kill one or two. The sight of Jon is lost in the raging crowd, but you…sort of know your way around, or at least you remember the map, so you try to enter a hall to cut the other yards.

Albeit, the moment you look around the corner you see it swarmed by wights so you step back out and cut through the yards anyway. That’s when suddenly one wight mostly made of bones comes from your side. It tries to tackle you down, but you shove your spear in its mouth and run forward to slam it into another one.

“Fucker,” you grimace and pull out your blade to continue running forward, continue to swerve and duck past and under swinging arms and blades. You begin to get close to the Godswood, but just as you walk past an archway to enter the last courtyard, you suddenly bump into a body.

Thinking it’s another wight you get ready to stab it without looking up at its decaying face, but then it grabs you by your arms and utters your name, so you look up and see Jon.

“Jon,” you sigh in relief.

He studies you quickly making sure you aren’t wounded, and you do the same.

The good thing is that all either of you see is dirt and dark blood from the dead.

“Come on. Bran,” he breathes out and grabs your hand to begin pulling you towards the Godswood, making you fight through your pain.

And while he leads ahead you want to keep holding onto him, you want to feel secured under his hold, but you have to quickly pull your hand away as you see an entire crowd of dead begin to fall down a stone wall. Jon and you try to avoid fighting them, but then another crowd comes running out of the shadows of a nearby archway around the yard. They all see Jon and you and don’t fret to charge directly, making Jon grab you by your hand again to turn you around and go a different way. However more dead now come out the way you had just come from.

Was this it? Get ripped apart by all these dead corpses? Only paces away from the enemy that can end this battle with one perfect hit?

At least you’re with Jon though, hand in hand, side by side. Many people don’t get to say they died beside the person they loved, you would. At least that’s an upside to this hell.

Of course you didn’t want to die, not yet, not before you can know your son is safe, not before maybe the baby can be born and have a chance to live. Maybe not before you’ve won the other war. But no matter how hard you try to fight off all the wights, there are too many of them and they surround you quickly leaving no chance to escape.

“Jon!” You yell over all the noise.

Said man looks over at you and waits.

“I love you,” you mutter through tears.

Jon’s eyes water and he grabs your hand again to press a kiss on your knuckles even as the dead keep trying to reach you up the hill of corpses you were now on.

“I love you,” he mutters back. “Thank you for the silence in the loud noise that has been my life.”

You smile through the tears and even if these might be your last moments, you glance at the approaching crowd of wights. “We fight?” You ask in a quivering voice and meet Jon’s gaze again since he had never stopped looking at you; if he was going to die, he would die looking at you, the woman he loved, that’d be the last thing he’d see. Yet when you say those words, he can’t help but be proud and feel encouraged to at least go out fighting, so without he nods in agreement and backs up your question.

“We fight.”

You let go once more, you face the relentless crowd and raise your spear again, whilst Jon stabs his sword into a wights skull. You continue fighting to try and still get to the Godswood.

Yet just as you ram your blade in a wights face, suddenly fire blasts down on a patch of wights before it swirls around Jon and you, killing all of the wights that had been trying to get you both.

At the feeling and the sight of the raging flames Jon tries to shield you, but you quickly look up at where the flames come from and see there in the night sky Eraxis. You beam at her, and Jon looks up at her disbelief before he yells out at you, “Bran!”

You glance down at him and nod before you both run down the piles of bodies and over dry patches of land that aren’t in flames. Eraxis hides back in the clouds, but you know she doesn’t wander far. Because just as you reach the Godswood and see its infiltrated wights, flames blast down again, burning away every single corpse, even those out of ice and with long white hair. She burns away every single tree that surrounds the red leaf Weirwood tree, leaving only a path that leads directly to the Night King and Bran, and letting Jon and you walk past before she completely surrounds the weirwood tree and all of you with a ring of fire.

The Night King's eyes then immediately set on Jon, and Jon glares at the monster as he pants.

Since there’s no one left to protect it, since there’s only fire around it, the Night King unsheathes its ice sword from behind him and faces Jon and you completely to stand its ground alone. Jon on the other hand secures his other hand around his sword handle before he begins to stride towards the Night King.

You begin to stride to it too, but then just behind the tree comes out a smaller corpse, or so it seems so, its face is covered by a hood, and its body is hidden behind a baggy cloak. It escaped Eraxis' wrath somehow.

It’s going to try and kill Bran.

So as Jon clashes his blade against the Night Kings you change your course and charge at the wight.

It spots you right away it though, but rather than running at you, it quickly raises its hand the closer you get and yanks it’s hood off, showing off a face of a wight, but a head full of brown hair pulled back to a small half ponytail that makes you falter and blink to watch in disbelief as you slow down.

Its eyes aren’t glowing blue or caved in, besides wights don’t pull off their hoods…this isn’t a corpse….and going by the hairstyle and hair color, and by the fact that they had hid so well, this can only be one person, Arya Stark.

Fucking impressive….

Regardless, you can’t precisely stop and come up with a plan together now that you see her too, so instead you look up at Eraxis as she watches whilst she flies around, and assure her that it’s okay with your look alone so she won’t burn Arya disguised as a wight. You then proceed to get closer to Arya before you both begin to slowly and quietly approach the Night King as Jon keeps fighting against it, and keeps its back facing Arya and you.

You get a few feet closer and then stop to meet Arya’s gaze while metal and ice keep clashing, she points to your spear with her eyes and then points at the Night King’s back before she drifts under the shadows that aren’t touched by fire light.

Jon and the Night King keep dancing around in the ring of fire as they clash their swords together, and it’s back keeps facing you. So as to not let this moment go to waste you lift your arm and then hurl your spear at its back.

Albeit just before it can hit its back, the Night King snaps its head back and catches sight of your spear before he maneuvers to the side, letting the spear now head to Jon.

“Jon!” You cry out.

Said man catches sight and barely manages to duck to avoid being hit.

The Night King then tries to lunge at you since he sees you’re defenseless, but then out of the shadows, from behind him Arya runs out and pushes herself off her feet to swing down. However, it then quickly snaps around stiffly and catches her by her throat.

Jon gets angrier at the sight and charges at it, whilst you begin to charge at it too, seeing Arya fling her blade over at you as it keeps her off her feet and gripped by her throat.

You catch the blade, and it snaps its icy blue eyes to you, letting Arya pull out her Valyrian blade she had hidden. It then snaps its eyes behind him as Jon raises his sword over its head, and lets go of Arya in hopes to swing his blade to slice all three of you.

But just before it can even move, Arya stabs her Valyrian blade in his chest, you stab your dragonglass dagger in its side, and Jon swings his blade down on his neck. All of you hit it simultaneously and the Night King erupts in thousands shards of ice, ending the battle once and for all….

Now there’s no sound of groans, grunts, screeches or running footsteps. There’s no more dead trying to run at you, there’s only dead corpses around the trees. There’s only silence and sorrowful peace.

It’s over. Now and always. The long night comes to an end, and the sun begins to break through the horizon, bringing relief and hope in you and everyone who lives.

Once the disbelief is somewhat surpassed, you and Jon look at one another after he makes sure his brother is okay, and instantly drop your weapons to close the gap with an embrace.

“Are you okay?” He asks between heavy pants.

You grip onto him and answer. “My leg,” you mention. “I hurt it, but it’s nothing too significant. You?”

Jon nods and then pulls back to instead cups your grime covered face and looks at you with concern. “The baby?” He asks, not caring if his siblings heard now.

You swallow thickly and shrug. “I don’t know,” you whisper, “I think the baby is fine.”

Jon swallows thickly and sees your worry so he tries to assure you now instead. “We’ll talk with the maester.”

You nod and then let your eyes linger on for a second to admire that he’s alive, that he isn’t another cold corpse. You relish in his touch before you press your forehead against him.

Jon presses a kiss on your lips as he caresses your cheek, and leans into your touch as you press your hands against his cheek.

“Rhaenar,” you whisper in quivering tone and pull away. “I'm going to check on Rhaenar.”

Jon nods. “Let me just grab Bran,” he says, “and I’ll catch up to check on Sansa as well.”

You nod in agreement and before you leave you meet Arya’s gaze and share a small passing smile before you run off, even through the pounding pain. You maneuver past dead bodies of all those you lost in battle, past debris, and past living people all grasping that it’s over.

Once you’re close to the crypts you finally slow down as you notice people coming out, Tyrion, Lord Varys, Missandei, yet Rhaenar is not behind them.

Your heart begins to pound in your ears, a force begins to clench around it, and the world begins to dim even if the sun rises. Sansa then comes out too, and thankfully, behind her is your son, covered in blood and grime, but he’s alive….he’s alive.

Relief washes over you instantly, and even if tears rush out of your eyes you’re filled with glee. “Rhaenar!” You call out.

Said boy instantly finds your voice and right away his shoulders fall, and his lips pull to a wobbly smile as he’s filled with relief.

“Mama!” He calls out before he quickly maneuvers past people to meet you halfway in an embrace. “Mama,” he cries once you have your arms around him, making his dragon hover beside him.

“My sweet boy,” you whisper and squeeze him tighter. “My little Sunspot.” You pull back only to grab his face and begin pressing kisses on his dirty forehead.

He scoffs softly, but he doesn’t shy away even if people around you see.

Once you completely step back you he quickly interjects with concern. “Are you okay?”

You nod and offer him a sweet smile. “I’m just hurt but I’ll live. You? You seem okay, are you?”

The boy begins to smile again and nods eagerly. “I’m fine. Mama you should’ve seen me, wights began to come out of graves and I fought some of them. Whom, swoosh!” He swings his arm, pretending to be holding his weapon. “One even tried to grab at my leg but I quickly flipped in the air and stabbed my spear in its SKULL! Just like how my uncle Oberyn taught me.”

You grin brightly and whisper, “I wish I could’ve seen, but I am proud.”

Rhaenar grins shyly, and in that moment there’s a soft dragon call from the sky. You look up and see Eraxis trying her best to fly past the castle walls.

“She’s hurt,” Rhaenar points out.

You grab him by his hand and begin to pull him after your dragon. “Yes,” you say, “Viserion hurt her, but she’ll recover with time.”

“Good,” he whispers.

“Now come,” you urge him, “she must’ve found Daenerys and Drogon.” You quicken your pace as best as you can, and once you make it out of the broken gate you gasp as you see the body littered battlefield. There’s thousands of people, all of them brave warriors.

The sight of a dark shadow then makes you lift your gaze, and you see Drogon fly by to fly away with Eraxis. Yet in the middle of the field of bodies is Daenerys in her dirty white coat, heading to the castle with a grief stricken look.

She sees Rhaenar and you and instantly her chest falls, her eyes glisten brighter, and the corner of her lips tug to a relieved smile.

“Aunt Dany!” Rhaenar yells out and pulls away from you to run over to her.

Quickly once he reaches her, he envelopes her in an embrace. She gets surprised for a moment, but once she's assured by his embrace she returns his hug and presses her cheek against the top of his head.

When you finally reach them they both let go of each other, letting you and Daenerys embrace each other now.

“It’s over,” you whisper to her. “It’s finally over.”

Daenerys holds onto you tighter and closes her eyes out of relief.

Feeling left out and happy that his family is alive, Rhaenar joins in the embrace and pulls you in a group hug.

“The war isn’t over,” Daenerys interjects quietly. “Not the real war.”

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject

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istumpysk · 3 years

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AGOT: Eddard XV (Chapter 58)

The king eats, Robert had said, and the Hand takes the shit. How he had laughed. Yet he had gotten it wrong. The king dies, Ned Stark thought, and the Hand is buried.

Interesting theory, Ned. Let’s explore further.

Robert Baratheon💀: Jon Arryn💀, Eddard Stark💀

Joffrey Baratheon💀: Tywin Lannister💀

Tommen Baratheon❓: Tywin Lannister💀, Harys Swyft❓, Orten Merryweather❓, Mace Tyrell❓

But wait, there’s more!

Renly Baratheon💀 : Mace Tyrell❓

Stannis Baratheon❓: Alester Florent💀, Davos Seaworth❓

Daenerys Targaryen❓: Barristan Selmy❓

Aegon VI Targaryen❓: Jon Connington❓

I have to agree, all of these people are doomed, with the exception of Davos Seaworth, who could easily die and it wouldn’t shock me in the least.

Anyway, let’s add Tyrion to the list, yeah?

+.+

Cersei Lannister's face seemed to float before him in the darkness. Her hair was full of sunlight, but there was mockery in her smile.

THE NEXT CHAPTER? What kind of witchcraft is this? @agentrouka-blog

+.+

When he thought of his daughters, he would have wept gladly, but the tears would not come. Even now, he was a Stark of Winterfell, and his grief and his rage froze hard inside him.

You and Catelyn should work on that, it can’t be healthy.

+.+

He made plans to keep himself sane, built castles of hope in the dark.

Father and daughter building castles of hope!! 😭🥺

+.+

I failed you, Robert, Ned thought. He could not say the words. I lied to you, hid the truth. I let them kill you.

I mean yeah, you kind of did. Really fucked over your kids too.

+.+

Cracks ran down his face, fissures opening in the flesh, and he reached up and ripped the mask away. It was not Robert at all; it was Littlefinger, grinning, mocking him. When he opened his mouth to speak, his lies turned to pale grey moths and took wing.

Littlefinger with a mouth full of moths! How fun. Let’s look at some other passages featuring moths:

A moth had gotten into the lantern Ser Boros was holding; she could hear it buzzing and see the shadow of its wings as it beat against the glass.

(...)

Her heels scraped against the stone as she climbed, and she could still hear the moth fluttering wildly inside Ser Osmund's lantern. Die, the queen thought at it, in irritation, fly into the flame and be done with it. - Cersei I, AFFC

He did not remember if they'd been warm or not. As the strength went out of her, her blows became moths fluttering about his face. Each time he gave the chain another twist the golden hands dug deeper. - Tyrion II, ADWD

Clutching the bars of his cage with bound hands, Mance sobbed and begged. When the fire reached him he did a little dance. His screams became one long, wordless shriek of fear and pain. Within his cage, he fluttered like a burning leaf, a moth caught in a candle flame. - Jon III, ADWD

"Risk is part of war," declared Ser Richard Horpe, a lean knight with a ravaged face whose quilted doublet showed three death's-head moths on a field of ash and bone. - Jon IV, ADWD

You’re dead, bitch.

+.+

The memory came creeping upon him in the darkness, as vivid as a dream. It was the year of false spring, and he was eighteen again, down from the Eyrie to the tourney at Harrenhal. He could see the deep green of the grass, and smell the pollen on the wind. Warm days and cool nights and the sweet taste of wine. He remembered Brandon's laughter, and Robert's berserk valor in the melee, the way he laughed as he unhorsed men left and right. He remembered Jaime Lannister, a golden youth in scaled white armor, kneeling on the grass in front of the king's pavilion and making his vows to protect and defend King Aerys. Afterward, Ser Os well Whent helped Jaime to his feet, and the White Bull himself, Lord Commander Ser Gerold Hightower, fastened the snowy cloak of the Kingsguard about his shoulders. All six White Swords were there to welcome their newest brother.

Yet when the jousting began, the day belonged to Rhaegar Targaryen. The crown prince wore the armor he would die in: gleaming black plate with the three-headed dragon of his House wrought in rubies on the breast. A plume of scarlet silk streamed behind him when he rode, and it seemed no lance could touch him. Brandon fell to him, and Bronze Yohn Royce, and even the splendid Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning.

Robert had been jesting with Jon and old Lord Hunter as the prince circled the field after unhorsing Ser Barristan in the final tilt to claim the champion's crown. Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty's laurel in Lyanna's lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost.

Such vivid memories of the whole affair.

Wait, no Ashara Dayne?

+.+

Ned Stark reached out his hand to grasp the flowery crown, but beneath the pale blue petals the thorns lay hidden. He felt them clawing at his skin, sharp and cruel, saw the slow trickle of blood run down his fingers, and woke, trembling, in the dark.

That’s the thing about blue roses, they may represent daughters of House Stark, but they’re also synonymous with death.

I’m just saying if a blue flower surrounded by ice showed up in one of my prophetic dreams, I might be worried. Especially if I’ve been warned about the colour blue, and sweet smells.

+.+

"Can you free me from this pit?"

"I could … but will I? No. Questions would be asked, and the answers would lead back to me."

✨ foreshadowing ✨

+.+

"Your own ends. What ends are those, Lord Varys?"

"Peace," Varys replied without hesitation. "If there was one soul in King's Landing who was truly desperate to keep Robert Baratheon alive, it was me."

There’s a popular theory that Varys never outright lies, he only omits truth.

That theory is bad.

+.+

Ned Stark laid his head back against the damp stone wall and closed his eyes. His leg was throbbing. "The king's wine … did you question Lancel?"

"Oh, indeed. Cersei gave him the wineskins, and told him it was Robert's favorite vintage." The eunuch shrugged. "A hunter lives a perilous life. If the boar had not done for Robert, it would have been a fall from a horse, the bite of a wood adder, an arrow gone astray … the forest is the abbatoir of the gods. It was not wine that killed the king. It was your mercy."

It’s me, the village idiot.

+.+

If you will give her the peace she needs and the time to deal with Stannis, and pledge to carry her secret to your grave, I believe she will allow you to take the black and live out the rest of your days on the Wall, with your brother and that baseborn son of yours.

“Pledge to carry her secret to your grave” followed by a mention of that baseborn son.

I don’t believe Varys knows about Jon, but sometimes I do wonder.

+.+

And spare a thought for this as well: The next visitor who calls on you could bring you bread and cheese and the milk of the poppy for your pain … or he could bring you Sansa's head.

"The choice, my dear lord Hand, is entirely yours."

Up next, an honourable lie actually worth telling.

Final thoughts:

Thus concludes the last Eddard Stark chapter in the series. Not sad to see them end, to be honest.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #agot #eddard xv

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megsironthrone · 3 years

Text

A Change of Fate

Based on this request: hiiii could i request one with Gendry, she’s a high born lady and they’re in love but shes married off to someone else because her family don’t approve of him her husband dies and when she finds out Gendrys alive they reunite. He’s legitimatised and they go off to storms end together?

Here you are, my lovelies! I do not own ANY Game of Thrones characters!

Warnings: Angst? Arranged marriage, death, FLUFF!! Some suggested steaminess??

Pairings/Characters: Gendry Water/Baratheon x fem!reader, Samwell Tarly

"Please don't make me do this," you begged. Your heart sank to your feet as your pleas fell on deaf ears yet again. "Father, please. I can't marry him. Please don't make me." Your father finally turned his eyes on you. "Y/N, you are going to marry young Dickon Tarly. There will be no question about it.'

"But I can't! I can't marry him when I love someone else. Father, I beg of you to listen!" You felt foolish, like a child, arguing with him. You knew it was inevitable. You were going to have to marry Dickon. Once your father made up his mind, there was no stopping him. "You will not be seeing that blacksmith ever again, Y/N. Now, I don't want to hear another word on the subject." After pleading once more to at least let you tell your lover yourself, you ran off to see Gendry for the last time.

Years had passed since you'd been forced to marry into House Tarly. Dickon was truly a good man, despite his father, who you loathed. And Dickon was a good husband. If your heart hadn't been in taken by Gendry all those years before, you might have been able to come to love Dickon. As it was, there would be no chance to find out.

You sank to your knees as the messenger told you the news. Your husband was dead. Executed for standing with his father against the Dragon Queen. While you hadn't loved him in the way he had loved you, he was still your closest friend and confidant. The messenger continued on in the background, talking about how the Dragon Queen was heading to Winterfell and to help against the Army of the Dead. He said there were rumors that she was with Ned Stark's bastard son, Tyrion Lannister, the Hound, and…

"Bastard Baratheon? I thought Cersei killed them all," your good mother said. Your ears perked up. There was only one Baratheon bastard you knew that had survived against Cersei's wrath. He had escaped thanks to Ned Stark. "Apparently not, My Lady. There is one left. Worked as a blacksmith I believe." You had to hold back a gasp. He really was alive?! And headed for Winterfell. If it was true, you knew what you had to do.

In the dead of night, you packed up a few things, saddled your horse, and rode North. You hoped you'd make it in time. You had no desire to bend the knee to Daenerys Targaryen, but you had to see Gendry again. Some people might accuse you of not caring that your husband had just died, but you knew he would have understood. He had been in love with someone else before you married too.

You rode as quickly and safely as you could, arriving in Winterfell just days before a battle was about to take place. The stronghold was armed and ready for a fight. The guards at the gate nearly didn't let you in. It was only thanks to two familiar faces that they moved aside. "Y/N?" The guards turned and you were able to catch a glimpse of your good brother. "Samwell!" The guards moved to let you through. You threw your arms around Sam and squeezed him tightly, thanking the gods he too was alive. It was then that you let your gaze wander to his companion.

"G-Gendry?" You cursed yourself for stuttering. His piercing blue eyes stared back at you as if he couldn't believe it himself. "You're here." You let go of Sam to get a good look at the love your life. He was a bit taller, broader. And he'd cut off most of his hair. You met his gaze again to see that he had been doing the same to you. "This is the…? Oh. I'll, uh, leave you to it then, shall I?" Sam said, knowing who you and Gendry used to be to one another.

"You're alive," you whispered. Gendry nodded. "And you're here alone. Shouldn't your husband be looking after you?" You glared at him. "You know damn well I never needed anyone looking after me," you hissed. Gendry chuckled softly and shook his head. "I know that, Y/N. But seriously, what are you doing here? Does he know you're here?"

"His name was Dickon and he's dead. Queen Daenerys executed him and his father." Gendry at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "Sorry," he muttered. You softened a bit. "It wasn't your fault. And he wouldn't have cared that I came here. He knew I didn't love him. How could I? I gave my heart to someone else a long time again. A blacksmith with noble blood and a bastard name." It seemed to take him a minute to make the connection, but once he did, his eyes widened almost comically.

"Me? You traveled all this way to find me?" You nodded. "Once I heard you might still be alive, I had to see for myself. Even if…if you no longer love me. Even if you despise me. I had to know that you're safe." You looked up at him, waiting for him to say something.

What you got wasn't words. That wasn't Gendry's way. So, it came as no surprise when you suddenly felt his arms wrap around you. His gaze flickered down to your lips and then back up to your eyes, silently asking permission. As soon as you consented, Gendry's lips were on yours, attacking your lips fervently. If not for the sudden cheers, you would have forgotten anyone else was there. Gendry pulled away, took your hand in his, and pulled you after him toward his chambers.

Once inside, Gendry's lips were on yours again, but they didn't stay there. He kissed you all over your face, making you giggle. "I love you, Gendry." Gendry pulled you close. "I want to be with you," you continued. "What about your parents? I'm still a bastard. Still a blacksmith." You shook your head against his chest. "I don't care. I've never cared. If you'll have me, I want you." Gendry chuckled. "If I'll have you? Y/N, I'll always have you. In every way you let me." You felt your skin flush as his warm breath tickled your ear.

*time skip*

You sat next to Gendry, practically clinging to him. After the battle with the Night King's Army, you were so grateful that you were both alive. From the moment you both saw that the other had survived, you had been nearly impossible to separate. It was probably annoying and somewhat nauseating to the people around you, but you didn’t care. You had missed out on so much time together and then you both nearly died in battle. You weren't about to let one another go for a while. It wasn't until Queen Daenerys spoke directly to Gendry that you even paid attention to anyone else.

You could hardly believe it when Daenerys pronounced that Gendry was no longer a bastard. He would be given the Baratheon name as well as all the lands of Storm's End and the title of "Lord". He thanked her profusely before turning to you. You let him lead you from the room once all the cheers had died down and everyone had stopped staring at him.

"Can you believe it? I'm a lord! I'm not a bastard anymore." You beamed at him. It wasn't like him to get so elated about things, so you were happy to let him enjoy the moment. "I can marry you," he said suddenly. He pulled you close to him again. "Marry me? Please say you'll marry me? We waited long enough." You laughed and nodded. "Of course I'll marry you, Gendry. You didn't even have to ask. Now come here and kiss your future bride."

Samwell married you and Gendry the night before the army was to leave for King's Landing. He'd had enough training and study with the Maesters to at least do that. You and Gendry decided to travel to Storm's End instead. "I think, if Dickon were alive, he'd want you to be happy," Sam had told you when you had asked him. You and Gendry headed out the next morning, blissfully happy in your new life. Together.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @etherealpotter @line-viper @frozenhuntress67 @cd1242 @smalltownbigheart @gruffle1 @igotmadskills

#george r.r. martin #game of thrones #gendry waters #gendry baratheon #gendry waters x reader #gendry baratheon x reader #gendry x reader

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spidey-sophie · 4 years

Text

Curiosity Bit the Cat | Tom Holland One-Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader

Warnings: meet cute, fluffy smut, public bathroom sex, hand kink (shocking), fingering (f receiving), sex with a 'stranger'

Summary: On the biggest Halloween party of the year you meet a mystery guy dressed as Spider-Man. You haven’t even seen his face, but somehow you just can’t get enough of him.

Word Count: 5.8k

Notes: Okay, so first of all, thank you everyone for your kind words after reading the teaser! Also, I can’t ever thank enough to my wonderful editors @worldoftom and @hypnotized-so-mesmerized ! Thank you for staying up all night, listening to me talking about it for daysss and making this fic as amazing as it is! Also, thank you to my lovely twin @rebekkah4766 for brainstorming with me and jumping in whenever I needed her to!

It was your favorite holiday of the year. Halloween.

As a kid, you would look forward to it all year, excited to go trick or treating, collect loads of candy, and eat it with your friends. Now, you loved the holiday for a different reason. You still looked forward to Halloween months in advance, but not for trick or treating. Halloween gave you the chance to don a mask and transform. There’s something about those masks and the anonymity that they provide. Wearing a mask always set you free.

“Are you coming, Daenerys Targaryen?” your best friend called out from outside of the car, her voice pulling you out of your thoughts. She wasn’t completely wrong, you did reuse your old Daenerys blonde wig tonight, styling it differently to get your character’s famous platinum blonde hair just right.

“How many times have I told you, I’m Black Cat tonight!” you said, finally climbing out of the car. As soon as you did, you started regretting your decision. Your leather costume was too tight. It did hug your figure in all the right places, but it was so uncomfortable to move with it on. The white fur around your wrists and neck wasn’t helping either.

“Oh yeah, I forgot how much of a nerd you are,” she said as she took your hand and started tugging you towards the entrance.

“Wait a second,” you said, pulling you and your friend to a stop to unzip the front piece of your costume. You had debated whether you should rock the famous Black Cat décolleté, and at the last moment you decided to go for it.

“Well, now we’re talking, come on!”

The loud beats and bass vibrations took over your senses as you entered the club, looking around in awe at the lights and decor. The place was crowded, full of people in various costumes, all of them wearing masks. You could barely recognize the rest of your friend group as they spotted you and waved you over.

“How did you manage to get us into this club?” you leaned over to ask your friend. This wasn’t a place you’d usually go out to. It was too luxurious for your taste. And for your wallet.

“I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy… don’t question it, enjoy it while you can!” Your friend said, gesturing afterwards that she was going to the distant table your friends were at. You nodded, deciding to push through the crowd to the bar to get you both some drinks first.

There was one thing you needed to be able to fully let loose in the crowd - alcohol. You made your way towards the bar and, after a while of squeezing your way through the crowd, you finally managed to get to the bartender. As soon as you finished ordering your drink, you heard someone laugh right next to you.

Intrigued and liking the way the laugh sounded, you turned around. It was immediately clear why this mystery person had laughed.

There, right next to you, was a guy dressed as Spider-Man. You couldn’t help but smile at the coincidence.

“Never thought I’d see you here, Cat,” you heard an appealing, smooth voice coming from under the mask.

“Back at ya, Spider. Thought you could only ever be spotted over the city's skyline.” You didn’t know exactly why, but you decided to play his game.

"Well, I heard a rumor a certain thief might be here and had to check it out."

You started to reply but lost your train of thought when the crowd jostled him closer to you, letting you see him better in the dim light. He was wearing a red and black version of the famous Spider-Man suit, with the mask fully covering his face. There was no skin in sight, but nearly every muscle of his was noticeable through the tight suit. Your eyes landed on his broad shoulders, and you couldn’t help but continue checking him out. Sure, you couldn’t see his face, but you could see plenty of his body and, for the moment, that was enough.

“Wow, after all these years, you’re still thirsty for me, Cat?” His voice startled you from your observations.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Spider.” You looked back up and turned around to face the bartender who just came back with your drinks. "I was just passing the time."

“You two have the best couples costume I’ve seen so far,” the bartender said as he gave you two shots for you and your new friend.

“Thank you, but I don’t like to be associated with spiders,” you said, and could almost hear the guy next to you smiling at your quip. Just as you grabbed your drinks and started walking away from him, you felt his hand on yours, lightly squeezing it.

“Will I see you around?” he asked, almost whispering into your ear.

“Maybe. If you use your spidey senses to find me.” You winked at him and finally left to join your friends.

The rest of the night went by pretty quickly. You spent most of it either dancing with your friends or meeting some new people, but none of them caught your attention like the mystery Spider-Man did. You couldn’t explain it, but there was something about him that attracted you. You felt stupid that you hadn’t even see his face yet, but there you were, searching for him in the crowd while drinking and dancing. Yet he was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t mention your mystery man to your friends. The only thing you knew about him was that, judging by his accent, he was probably American, but that clue wasn’t enough for you to find him.

You eventually gave up on looking for him and focused on the night. With your friend’s hand in yours, you strutted towards the dance floor. The music was so loud, it was almost throbbing inside your body. Letting yourself sink into the feeling, you started moving to the rhythm. You could feel many eyes gazing at you, following your every move closely. But, you felt indifferent to their attention. Hand in hand, you were dancing with your friend, spinning each other around and having a blast dancing together to your favorite songs. She was there for a little bit, but then her hand left yours and she gestured to the bar, and you nodded, continuing to dance on your own. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this good, this free. You stayed dancing alone on the dance floor, most of your friends too drunk to join you or had already hooked up with someone, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to have fun.

A few songs had passed when you felt someone only a few inches behind you. Curious to see if it was one of your friends or someone else, you started turning your head back but paused when you heard a familiar voice.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

His soft voice sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t believe you were so drawn to someone’s voice. Though you’d just met him a few hours ago, you’d missed hearing it. You smiled and finally turned your whole body to face him.

“What happened to those spidey senses of yours?” you said, stepping closer as his hands moved to rest on your elbows. You look down at his suggestion of proximity and surprisingly didn't feel uncomfortable with it. It felt… nice.

“Turns out they don’t mix well with alcohol," he said, "or maybe you were too skilled for them tonight. Where were you hiding?” The music was too loud so he had to be close to you in order for you to hear him.

“See that Harley Quinn who keeps frantically waving at us? She’s at my table.”

“Oh, I see. I was at the complete opposite side of the club.”

“You know, I almost approached the wrong Spider-Man,” you told him with a slight giggle, putting your hands around his neck as he drew you closer by the waist. The last thing you had wanted was for him to know you were looking for him, but somehow the alcohol made your mouth work faster than your brain. “There’s too many of you guys now anyways, I can’t keep track anymore.”

“Which one is your favourite?” he asked you.

“Oh, Miles. Definitely.”

“Well, he’s one lucky guy then, to be your favourite,” he said, running his hands up and down your lower back. Your skin felt like it buzzed with prickles wherever he touched you, hands still resting on the back of his neck. Since you couldn’t see him, you tried to focus on other things apart from his face and eyes, such as his voice. It sounded very comforting to you, almost like you’d heard it somewhere before.

"But you come a close second, Parker," you said with a grin and a partial wink. He chuckled and shook his head.

"You know," he said, moving one hand close to yours and starting to intertwine his fingers with yours. "You have quite an irresistible smile."

Transfixed by his flirt, you let him hold you like that, relaxing into him. And there you were, face to face. One of your hands was still on his neck, while he brought the other one to his chest, still holding on tightly. Even with his gloves on, you could feel how warm his hand was against your cold one.

“You do, too… I mean, not that I’ve seen… I meant the sound of it.” The embarrassment tingling through your body was unbearable, so you moved your hand from his neck to wipe a phantom drop of sweat from your brow. You felt stupid, but in a good way. In a way you haven’t felt ever since talking to your first childhood crush.

He laughed yet again. "Don't worry, kitten, I know what you meant."

Before you knew it, you were quickly wrapped around him from the warmth of his words.

You danced quietly for a bit, both of you moving your bodies out of sync with the music but in tune with each other. You’d become used to the silence between the two of you when he finally said, “I really enjoyed spending time with you tonight.”

“And I liked talking to you,” you replied, gently caressing the back of his neck with your nails.

“Maybe we can talk better if we go outside. If you want to?” he asked when the dance floor got too crowded, and the music got even louder. As close as you were, you could barely hear each other now.

“Yeah, that’d be nice. I just need to stop by the restroom first.”

“I’ll go with you.” He took your hand in his and led the way. That little gesture made your heart beat faster. However, once you were in front of the bathrooms, you saw the familiar long line you were hoping wouldn't be there.

“I can’t believe I’ll have to wait ages to pee,” you groaned.

“Wait, you can use this one, there’s no one else inside.” You saw him opening the door of the men's bathroom and gesturing to you with his hands to come inside.

“Are you sure it’s okay that we’re both here?” you asked him once you walked in.

“No, but we’ll see,” he laughed, and so did you.

You were done fairly quickly, but he seemed to still be in one of the stalls. You decided to sit on the sink counter, waiting for him to come out of the toilet. You looked around. The counter was fairly big, there were four sinks with a big mirror. On your left were urinals, the stalls on your right.

“How did you get out of that suit?” you asked, to kill some time while you were waiting for him.

“I have a zip at the back, darling.” You loved the way he used pet names for you, it made you smile and caught you off guard. “But I’m going to need your help to zip it back,” he said as he got out. His gloves were off, so now you could see his hands. They seemed soft and a bit bony. The thing that drew your attention the most were his fingers. They were really long, with a few veins popping on them. You watched him washing his hands and caught yourself imagining how those fingers would feel on your body.

“Can you even see in that thing? Can you breathe?” Once you realized you were staring way too much at his hands, you tried to change the subject.

“I can, and sadly not so much. Could you zip me up please?” You loved the way his fingers clenched the towel while he was drying them.

He got near you, right between your legs, facing the opposite direction. You saw a fair portion of his freckled skin through both sides of the zipper as it fell open till about half of his back. As you zipped him up, you could feel your heart pounding and your hands growing clammy with sweat. Especially when you looked up and caught sight of his curly brown hair peeking under his mask.

“All done,” you said nervously.

"Thanks," he said as he turned around to face you. You lifted your head and looked at him. Your eyes flicked over his face, trying to distinguish his facial features, but his mask hid them very well. You lingered on his nose jutting out through the spandex before taking in the details of his white lenses. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't see his eyes, though you could almost feel him studying you just as intently. Neither of you said a word, but the silence didn’t feel stifling at all. In fact, you couldn't help but smile at how calm you felt just sitting in front of him like you were.

"I thought cats had vertical pupils." His voice sounded lower than before. Sultrier.

"Don’t spiders have eight eyes? It's unfair that I can't see yours to find out."

"Well, they hold too many secrets, kitten." You smiled at his remark. He lifted his hand and put it on your arm. It felt like his touch was emitting fire on your already warm body. Your fingers were trailing from your thighs to your knees, searching for distraction but you wanted to put them back on his body so much that they were almost aching.

"Your lips are fully human tho," he said while he traced little circles with his thumb on your forearm. "Can I kiss them?"

You noded shyly. You started removing his mask, but just as you pulled it over his nose, he caught you by the wrists. He placed your fingers near his lips and kissed them.

“Look, I, um, I’ll need you to trust me right now. This is gonna sound odd, but do you mind if I keep my mask on? If it makes you uncomfortable in any way, we can stop. Say the word and we'll stop, alright?” he told you, and you nodded. You couldn’t explain why, but this idea excited you.

You took a closer look at the bottom half of his face. Well, as much as you could since the lights in the bathroom were too dim and red. They complimented his mask. Your heartbeat quickened, it felt like it was about to come out of your chest. You hoped he couldn’t feel it since he was so close to you.

His jawline was the first thing you noticed. As you gently traced the strong path with your finger, you noticed his lips curving into a devilishly hot smirk. That’s when you decided that your best response would be to kiss him.

You lightly brushed your lips on his. Excited but also a bit surprised that you had the courage to kiss him first. Just when you thought about parting your lips from his and apologizing for kissing him, you felt his hands on the small of your back, bringing you closer to him.

His tongue flicked at your lips and you finally parted them, letting out a small moan as you let him in. His hands tightened around your waist as he kept pulling you closer than you already were, like he never wanted to let you go. Instinctively you lifted your legs up and around his waist. The heat of his skin was seeping through the material of both of your costumes.

And he was kissing you so good. Somehow, it seemed like this mystery man knew just the way you liked being kissed, hard and slow. Your hands were on his neck, touching the only parts of his skin that were exposed for you. His skin was soft, and you could feel the way his neck muscles tensed while he was kissing you. Your hands started roaming his body, not breaking the kiss.

Just below his abs, you could trace the outline of his erection in his suit, and he kept pressing it into you. Soon he started slowly and lightly jerking his hips to meet yours, which was enough to make your whole body twitch, desperate for more. His hands had gone around to your ass, caressing it before squeezing it hard. You were desperately yearning for his touch that even though his action took you by surprise, you moaned into his mouth.

The kiss got hungrier than before. He nibbled on your bottom lip and after a while, started moving back slowly. You moaned once his lips were away from yours. In the heat of the moment, both of you forgot to breathe. He moved from your lips to your neck, his breath was hot and it sent shivers down your spine all the way down to your toes.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you.” He growled into your neck. His voice sounded even more familiar to you now, but you couldn’t focus on it, your mind turning hazy from the pressure of his lips. Just when you were about to ask him if you'd ever met, you heard someone coming into the bathroom.

You jerked away from each other, quickly reminded that you were still on the counter, at a public place. He pulled you by the hand, guiding you until you were both crammed into a bathroom stall.

His body was pressed flush into yours even though there was enough room in there. He was so close to you that you could feel him breathe. You focused on the way his muscles were tensing, on the way he smelled and on his paced breathing. Looking up, you kept your eyes on his plumped lips. They were puffy from all the kissing. You could hear the sink run as the person that came into the bathroom washed their hands and felt relief that soon you’d both be alone and wouldn't need to keep quiet anymore.

Once you heard the person leave, he captured your lips with his yet again, kissing you like you had all the time in the world, his tongue exploring your mouth like both of you could stay there forever.

Your hands went up to your mask and you tried to remove it, but he held them. “I still have mine on, it’s only fair if you keep yours on, too.”

You removed your hands from his and slid them down his arms instead.

“And, y’know, you look hotter with it on, too,” he added, his mouth shaping into a smirk.

It was captivating, but you wanted it gone, so you kept moving your hands until they reached his growing bulge. His skin tight costume couldn’t hide how excited he was. You started moving up and down, feeling him growing even more. You needed to use both of your hands to cup him completely, caressing and stroking him through the fabric. He thrust into your hands, grinding on them while he kissed every exposed piece of skin on your face and neck. His fingers worked his way to your back where he found the zip to your own costume. He pulled back from your neck.

“Is this okay?” he asked you as if he hadn't started to unzip you already. As soon as you nodded, he pulled the zip down to your bottom and started pulling it down your body. He squatted in front of you and peeled it slowly off your legs, leaving you in a lacy black underwear. He put your costume on top of the little countertop behind the toilet while still on his knees in front of you. Your underwear was soaking wet and you knew he could see it, feeling the brush of his finger on your clit. He gently kissed your clit through the fabric. You were yearning so much for him it was almost painful. To hell with him for choosing this moment to tease you.

He got up and slid his hand behind your back to unclasp your bra. You were overwhelmed but you wanted to see his body too. Just when he was about to start kissing your neck, you pushed him off of you and reached for the zip on his back. You knew very well where it was from having helped him before, so your fingers found the pull tab easily.

You started pulling his costume off his shoulders, feverishly tugging it down the rest of his body. The first thing you saw was his collar bones, you started moving down his abdomen. He was wearing white Calvin Klein boxers, which was nice and made you send him a cheeky look, but you wanted them gone anyway. You knelt in front of him, tugging every piece of clothing down to his ankles. Looking up, all he had left was the mask over the top of his head.

You ran your hands over his exposed abs, your nails lightly dragging over his smooth skin. He quivered and flexed, and led you to kiss the mole right above his belly button. Just as you were about to start kissing his cock, he put his fingers on the nape of your neck and pulled you back up.

“If you do that now, I’m not going to last long,” he said in an accent that sounded different than before. It had an English touch to it, more pronounced.

Once you were standing, he bent down and pulled your hard nipple into his mouth, gently stroking the other one with his left hand. You moaned, digging your fingers into his back.

“I need you,” you panted.

“Oh do you now,” he growled into your collar bone, moving slowly back to your neck. He started sucking on your skin very hard while moving his right hand down into your soaked panties.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked him, struggling to catch your breath. His hand stopped right at the hem of your underwear.

“No… but wait a second.” He pulled away and slowly opened the bathroom stall door. You took a quick look, too. There it was, attached to the wall, one of those vending machines with condoms and toothbrushes, but both of you were naked and someone could come in any second.

"I got this," he said, pulling his boxers back up in a hurry, attempting to pull up his suit too, but ultimately leaving it half hurled around his knees. When he sneaked out of the stall, you peeked through the opened doors and saw him trying to walk as fast as he could. It was nearly comical, but you contained your chuckles for the sake of the moment.

Soon after, he was on his way back to you, sporting a grin, but the bathroom door opened and you could hear at least two guys chatting animatedly on their way in.

You cussed to yourself, but he was less smooth. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he mouthed repeatedly, audibly too, until you were able to reach out and pull him back in by an arm. Just in time because you could still hear a boyish 'woaaaah' coming from outside even before the door was locked.

"Get it Spidey!" a voice said, and immediately you both started laughing and shushing each other at the same time. You almost didn't want to because his laugh was the cutest sound you'd heard in a while.

“Sorr…” you started, but he put his finger over your lips to silence you. Still there was no way to stop your wide smiles, even though you had pretty much been walked in on.

You moved your eyes to his chest in an effort to stop smiling, and noticed him breathing heavily. Unsure if he was struggling to hold back more laughter or high on the adrenaline, you decided to give him something else to focus on. His finger was still on your lips which made it easy to part them and start sucking on it, keeping your eyes focused on his face. His smile instantly faded, his mouth hanging open while he sucked in a sharp inhale.

Satisfied at his reaction and wanting more, you used your hands to maneuver his middle finger into your mouth as well, grabbing his wrist to suck on both fingers hard. You could see his lips dancing around the word 'fuck' and glanced into the white eye-shaped lenses, daring him to stare back at you from behind the mask. It felt weird yet captivating to not be able to see into his eyes.

As soon as the restroom door banged closed again, he removed his fingers from your mouth and you let out a small whiny moan. His hand snaked into your underwear, its motion heightened by the kisses he littered on your neck, all the way down to your breasts. He pinned you to the wall with his shoulders, sucking on the soft skin right under your collar bones. You moaned softly under his ear as he slowly worked his way around your pussy and clit, cupping it with his fingers, rubbing it with his whole palm.

He slowly put one finger inside of you while his lips were all over your neck and breasts. Once his finger was fully inside of you, you started moaning a bit louder. He had to kiss you to keep you quiet. His tongue was teasing your lips, waiting for you to let him in. At the same time as his tongue entered your mouth, he put his other finger inside of you and started curling them. The kiss was urgent and sloppy, like your whole life depended on it.

The tension in your lower abdomen started building up. Whether it was the adrenaline rush from the risky location, the fact that he was so mysterious that he wouldn't even let you look him in the eye, or simply his skilled fingers and mouth, you didn’t know. But the truth was that you hadn’t been this wet in a while. You weren’t even kissing him now, just breathing into his mouth. Your hands were around his neck and you could feel the ends of his hair within reach of your fingers. Your lips left his and you started moaning into his neck, feeling him shiver from the warmth of your breath.

Your lower back was still pressed against the cold bathroom wall, thrusting hard into his fingers as you started clenching around them. You started mouthing his shoulder to control your moans and to keep yourself from slipping down.

“I’m so close,” you whispered into his shoulder, kissing and biting into it while your hips bucked hard onto his fingers. He was working you up with his middle and ring fingers, his palm on your clit providing you with more stimuli. They were curling inside of you, hitting just the right spot. You could feel the pure pleasure building inside of you and let out a loud moan when it finally approached.

This time he didn’t try to shut you up, smirking instead as you came down from your high. Your hands instinctively went to his throbbing cock, the need to erase that smirk from his face overcoming your exhaustion You pulled the foreskin over his head and started jerking him off, watching as his lips parted and let out a soft moan. You smeared the precum of his tip and brought your fingers back to your mouth, humming around the taste.

“Turn around,” he told you and you knew exactly what to do. Turning around, you put your hands on the bathroom door and leant against it. You heard him ripping off a condom with his teeth while he rubbed your clit with one hand.

He teased your entrance with his cock, spreading your wetness all over him. He pushed inside of you slowly, making both of you moan. You gasped when his hands reached and squeezed your hips. They were all over you, moving from your hips to your ass cheeks and then finally to your stomach, leaving goosebumps behind in their wake

One of his hands finally slipped back onto your swollen clit. He started rubbing circles around it, while pushing into you with only his tip.

“Are you close?”

His words were distracting, but when you tried to answer, he filled you up completely and your mind went blank. Your only response was a loud moan, you didn’t even care if there was anyone outside of your stall who could hear you.

You felt your arms beginning to ache, shaking a bit from the effort of keeping yourself in position while he pounded into you.

“Can you please hold me?” you whispered through your moans, and he did with a hum. He moved his hand from your ass to your stomach, holding you tight, pressed onto him. His breathing intensified, matching yours.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you finally said as you felt your body melting into his.

“I got you, I got you,” he moaned breathily, not stopping his movements. He fucked you until it was too much for the both of you. You came when his hand found your nipple, the pleasure it caused setting you ablaze. Then you felt him tremble behind you, hips erratic from chasing his high. Your hands were shaking and his hands on your body were the only things keeping you from falling. Even after he was finished, he couldn’t stop grunting while rocking his hips slowly back and forth, still not ready to pull out and to stop this magnificent feeling for both of you.

When he finally pulled out, you needed a few moments to collect yourself. You struggled to stand still, bracing yourself with one arm on the door. Once you turned around, he grabbed the sides of your face and kissed you hard.

“Fucking hell, this was something else,” he said while his hands were still on your face and his head was resting on yours. You stayed like that for a few moments, and you could feel his hot breath all over your face. When he moved away from you, he got rid of the condom while you took some toilet paper to clean yourself up. A smile bloomed on your face while you took your suit and started dressing up. You couldn’t believe what you had just done, but it felt so good. Your eyes went straight to him and to the way his muscles shifted while he was dressing himself. He turned around for you to zip him back up. You left a little kiss on his back and you could feel him smiling.

“Thank you, kitten,” he said, sounding more American again, using his Peter Parker voice.

“You’re welcome, Spider.”

But as he moved to help you, it hit you that a few moments ago his voice sounded a bit different and his accent definitely had an English lilt. “Can I ask you something?” you asked him while he zipped your suit up.

“Sure. But let’s get out of here first.” You turned around and he pressed his lips lightly into yours while your heart was pounding furiously. The kiss was gentle and sweet, you never wanted this to end.

But it had to. He broke the kiss but moved his hand up to your cheek. His thumb was caressing your lips, almost like he wanted to savor this moment. He smiled before he put his mask back on. You took one last look at the bottom half of his face. And maybe you were out of it, maybe the leftover alcohol was playing tricks on your mind, but you were now almost completely sure from where you recognized his voice and his smile. You needed to ask him. He couldn’t be who you thought he was.

Luckily, the bathroom was empty so you had no trouble getting out of it. Just like when you first came in here, he was holding your hand and leading the way. As you got out of the bathroom, you were blinded by the lights and startled by the loud music. It was hard to believe that you had been in the same building this entire time, the bathroom seemed like it was its own bubble. You stood there with him for a few moments, as you both tried to figure out the best way to get away from the crowd when someone dressed as Batman appeared in front of you.

“Tom, mate, we’ve been looking everywhere for you. We’re outside, ready to leave.” You felt your heart sink into your stomach. No. It couldn’t be.

“Right, mate, I’ll be there in a second,” he answered him in that same accent he had while he was having sex with you.

“I’ll use my spidey senses to find you,” he whispered in your ear. His American accent was back on. You didn’t know anyone who could switch accents this effortlessly except for the person you thought he was. You were too shocked to respond to him. You just stood there watching him with your eyebrows slightly raised while he showed you a peace sign and left.

Once he was gone, you mechanically walked towards the table your friends had been at. Yet, as you tried to find them, only one thought was on your mind. And you still couldn’t believe it.

Did you just have sex with Tom Holland?

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