#God's steadfast love for me never ceases
Text
Heart of the Great Wolf
39 - Great Wolves of White Mists
Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)
Length: 15.9k
Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past character deaths, smut, oral (f receiving), exhibitionism, p in v, threats of sexual violence
Notes: Lots of world building going on behind the scenes, but I assure you everything does come together logically when we're ready. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here
Words had continued to reach you long after you assumed much communication would have ceased to be. Yet, they still came, and you still heard whispers that disturbed you beyond what you were willing to speak so freely on. What were you to make of them on your own, let alone bring them to his attention when you were not sure? He knew it bothered you, but without any confirmation all there was to do was speculate about the unknown.
You knew little about that part of the world, though that was the case for many. Asshai was the furthest east most maesters knew anything substantial about, and it sounded like a place that draws in those looking to shed what good in them remained. Darkness and shadow binders, old powers speaking of magic that was unnatural in the world you knew. And the red woman was said to be from there, yet here she had sat atop her horse beside your father as if she had any right.
Speaking as if he was this great warrior, born amidst salt and smoke. Her fire god's chosen, and yet you only saw a man. A just man, a leader and a King, but like the husband at your side, Stannis Baratheon was still only a man. Heroes of such tales were best left in the books you had long since passed onto Shireen's dutiful imagination. In the world you knew, good men were rare to come by, and most seemed to die before they had a chance to be spun into such heroes.
Your father had a witch at her side, but no magic of any power from her would have you trade away standing with only your love and honour at Robb Stark's side.
And yet, it was that stance which your father took issue with. Demeaning you in front of your men and your King, as if a child needing scolding. Claiming you betrayed your duty at his side, when he had the audacity to bring a woman such as her to this meeting. Robb did not fight with magic tricks and dishonour, he fought the same bloody battles which his men did beacuse that was the leader which found worship from his people.
Stannis's men were loyal to him, but they worshipped the fires of a god only one woman spoke of in these lands. You felt that biting rage inside, heart beating harsh enough it hurt against your chest as your eyes sat steadfast in a glare towards him. You made your choice, and so did he. But you did not stand there and berate him for his choices, for what you heard this woman told him to do. But he thought he had the right to tell you that it was not Robb's side you belonged at.
You only belonged in one place, and it was with him. Your destiny was not your fathers choice anymore, your destiny was with the future you and Robb were fighting for together. Sacrificing the life you should be forming in your home where you both belong, to do what needed to be done.
Stannis spoke it with such an even tone, but only you knew what it spoke of. It was an irritation that you dared speak against him in front of everyone when you never dared defy his command before. “You truly think yourself so highly, that you can deny your duty as my daughter, that you can choose your destiny now?”
Your lungs struggled to breath you moved so little, but the sound did not appear all dissimilar coming from beside you. Teeth almost bared as he controlled what little he could of his possessiveness, and one you suspected Robb almost did not care to hide from your father. “She is my wife, your grace. My Queen. Which means her destiny lies with me.”
Caring not for if he tried to argue against it, he did not know. Your father married you to the North without ever even bothering to be there to hand you over himself, but now he expected you to betray the husband he chose for you? Not even in a chance of your existence, would you have gone to your father instead of Robb. There hadn't even been a thought the day you escaped.
You had a home and a family and a duty, and Robb Stark was all three within your life and heart.
The red woman however, beckoned your father to let her speak. Capturing your attention as the blood inside you felt too cold against the terrible red she represented. You would rather not have approached her, but she did not pose a threat. Not in this fashion. You suspected her danger lay in what persuasion her words held within the manipulated minds of men. Still, she made her try to entice you.
“I have seen your fate, a destiny showed to me in the flames, princess.”
Eyes flickering to Robb, he did not wish for you to approach her but as you did, sensed no physical threat towards you from the woman on her own. Only a blur in the side of your vision did a large grey figure stalk around the perimeter of where you all stood, Grey Wind prowling forward in watch and guard. A direwolf always ready to attack, just as The Young Wolf behind you now.
Your horse approached hers, and the chilling in your blood only grew and grew until sights and sounds of ice and cold flashed. She could not see them, she was only one to serve fire, but it was as if she looked to you with a knowing you did not like. Not even Robb knew of the kind of dreams you were truly having at night, but you did not want this woman pretending as if she had a clue.
Eyes so blue they shined like terrifying crystals were not haunting her dreams, only yours.
Yet she sensed something. “Do you believe in the old powers?”
Once, you would not have been sure. Memories of a flame long gone, memories of nightmares only as a child on an isolated island, you lived most a life in the world before you. Men only made of flesh and bone, and the mystery of the world long passed. But now? Now you knew for one reason or the other, you and Robb no longer could be so sure of what you once thought impossible. But none of that was what came out of your mouth.
Your own tone as even and matching as what came out of your fathers. “I’ve been told you are from Asshai, Lady Melisandre. I imagine preaching such a foreign religion to the people includes a lot of convincing people of the old powers. Most would think that isn’t an easy task, and yet here you stand so close by my fathers side.”
She was quiet as she stared at you, and you could only be confident she knew nothing of the freezing dreams of a crying infant in the night you had. There were other dreams, but that was the one you saw over and over, that was the one that left you without telling a soul. A nightmare shouldn't scare you the way that one did.
Her own intentions did not match what you and Robb came here for. Whatever she wanted, was not what you and Robb were spending years fighting for. Her tone confident as it was aggravating to listen to it's words attached. “The King has seen the truth in flames shown by that of the Lord of Light. He is his chosen, a warrior born amidst salt and smoke. The red comet signalling a rebirth of power that will lead him to his true destiny. One that I have seen you in, princess.” But it wasn't red in your dreams, not even close.
Watching her turn to Robb, you could have knocked her off her horse then and there for even thinking she had the right to try and sway him to her poison. Something about her put you on a blades edge of tensity. “The princess only has one destiny, your grace. You are not so far away from that fate.”
Something crawled under your skin, and in an instant it was as if you moved your horse without realizing it. Closer back to Robb's side in more proximity then you had even before. You wanted to be nowhere near this womans words as she spoke. But her eyes found yours, and what they spoke was something you didn't comprehend.
“Your fate does not lie here, princess. The Lord has shown me, you are destined to stand behind your father. The coming of a great war and you will only find your fate there. With your love, with the heart of your Great Wolf at your side, you will stand prosperous in such battles to come. A future written for you already, princess. Your Great Wolf to stand with you and your children together only if you accept the truth that your fate lies behind that of the Lord’s chosen.”
Life for her was found in flames, but yours was frozen in ice and snow like that of the very wolf at your side she spoke of. Seeing you in her lies was one thing, you would do much to keep Robb out of whatever her sights in red showed her, though.
Only, Robb was gone. Dead and lost in the Riverlands and the future in your womb too was just as butchered as what ended you both together. The red woman tried to manipulate you by saying your Great Wolf would stand with you, with your children, and yet you three all died in one night soaked in the others blood.
Too often you still wished you ended her that day you both stood at the top of the Wall.
There used to be a point in his life where there weren't many memories which stuck out so heavily in his mind. His life was one day to the next and never quite with any importance that should be cared about. He didn't even remember his mother, all he could ever come up with was that she had pretty yellow hair and a high, lovely voice to which she would sing to him in.
She died when he was little, he didn't even remember how he came into Tobho Mott's care, but he became his apprentice. Perhaps if he had any ambition to do something else or leave, he'd have taken a thought of how he was sold off as if a slave trade, but he didn't.
In those days, there was very little to stand out in Gendry's life. That was until one strange day when the Hand of the King came to see his master. Though, it wasn't a memory that stuck out much in the moment. No, it was the things which came after. The memory of Lord Stannis with a narrow eyed glare as he said nothing but watched him as Lord Arryn was the one asking all of the questions.
Then Lord Arryn died, and the next Hand of the King, Lord Stark came to ask the same questions only this time he had Lord Stannis's daughter working beside him instead.
He recalled you doing the same, narrow sharp eyes watching him close, but unlike your father you took the time to speak to him at the least. You had been stern and short with him, but he had the feeling now it was simply your temperament in general instead of the previous Baratheon's ire. Asking about his mother. Then you had a strange look, stepping a bit closer as you told him “Look at me,” and parting without another word. He could recall the passing thought as he returned to his work, that if he didn't know any better he'd have thought you were his twin.
That encounter was strange yet, but it wasn't until the events occurring with the red woman, did Gendry finally recall that day as you looked at him and what exactly the shock was you felt. Well, he recalled two faces he couldn't stop seeing what one was for very different reasons.
With not a clue what happened to her for years, or what became of her the moment they parted ways, all Gendry could think of in those days was how angry Arya was for what they had done. He had Beric Dondarrian agree to keep him on as one of them, only for a beautiful woman all in red come and take him away in exchange for gold. Found a purpose perhaps, and maybe just one person who he could care about, only to be sold off like a slave once more.
“You are more than they can ever be. They're just foot soldiers in the great war. You will make kings rise and fall.” Was what she said to him. Gendry had not a clue what that meant, but he didn't care. He was being sold off like cattle to a strange woman and for years, he had thought he'd never seen Arya again. Not a clue if she was safe, alive, what happened to her or where she could have gone and it still made him upset.
The first time he found someone genuine who he actually cared about. She was a huge pain in his ass, there was no doubt about it but he liked that about her. She didn't know when to not say something like a smart ass, was quick to take care of others or defend those weaker and smaller then her even against soldiers. Once Arya cared about you, she'd protect you. Except for that last time and he used to wonder if she thought he was dead like he worried she was.
But he hadn't been given that chance to think on it. He had been told his father was a King, the King. Robert Baratheon was said to be his father and as he finally was taken to Dragonstone did he see the man once more. Saw Stannis Baratheon and he realized what your look had meant.
Stannis looked unimpressed, whereas you had looked shocked. And you looked shocked, because he was right. Well, not exactly. It wasn't twins you were, but you were cousins. It all felt unusual to him, being dragged here in a cage, being brought to Stannis Baratheon who was waging wars against many, including you. He knew a bit about you without realizing much of it, you had been married to Arya's oldest brother.
Robb Stark was King in the North, but Gendry didn't feel like he belonged anywhere in these people's lives of royalty. But that was because he didn't. It was nothing more then a trick, not knowing if it was clever or cruel. The red woman knew, sensing his inexperience and played perfectly into such a tactic. Had all of the right words, knew the right way to look at him and knew how little to wear and when to take that little amount off to make him pliable enough to not have much in him to protest.
Then she tied him up. And leeched blood from his skin as the man he then knew was his uncle came in with another. He was left to suffer there as if he meant nothing and he felt as such, used and tricked and he hated that this was the only family he had properly met. If his life depended on it, Gendry couldn't say what even it was they discussed in that room. Names passed around as the leeches filled with his blood were tossed into the burning brazier.
What Arya had described of you sounded nothing like the people your father surrounded himself with, with the uncaring dismay as if he was nothing. A mix of highborn and lowborn and all the lowborn side of him did was make him someone to be tossed away. That wasn't the way Arya made you seem, and the longer he was on Dragonstone the more he felt as if you were the enemy to Stannis Baratheon as well.
Gendry couldn't understand what kind of people his true family were, or why he at all thought he would fit into it when there was nothing but darkness and fire around it. Ultimately it was Ser Davos who enlightened him on some truths he couldn't have known. Rumours of prophecies and visions and he hated all of it. He didn't care about any of it.
He had seen Beric Dondarrian come back from death and all he recalled of the man was that he sold him to these people for gold just like everyone else. Whatever this magic in his blood was meant nothing if it's only use was to make others suffer for it.
“I met her once, in King's Landing.” The two men had been leaning against his cell bars on opposite sides as they spoke quietly. “Her and Lord Stark came to see me, asking what Lord Arryn wanted to know about me. Think maybe it took her a minute, two the most to figure out we were related. Didn't realize why she looked shocked by it until now.”
Davos huffed a laugh, “I see why, put you two side by side and I'd think you were twins. And I know if she heard what her father was doing to you, she'd be furious, her and Robb Stark both. Tried convincing Stannis to make peace, do the right thing, fight by each others side but he turned their offer down and now I have no clue how he think she'll come back to him this way.”
Arya had tried to tell him coming with her to find Robb Stark, her brother, was a good idea and maybe Gendry should've believed her when he had the chance. Because the day Ser Davos came to help him escape the island he realized what the true extent of plans for him were, and he couldn't imagine Arya trying to convince him for someone anything close to whatever this was.
So he escaped to King's Landing, only to find little for him there either. Less then little and nothing but hints of a life he would never know. His purpose wasn't on Dragonstone or in King's Landing so where in seven hells could it be?
For a while, Gendry wondered if he made the wrong call trying to figure it out on his own. Most of his life the new places he found were no control of his, sold to Tobho Mott, sold to the Nights Watch, sold to Stannis Baratheon and the red woman. But it had been the first time he chose his own path and had yet to have it knock him back for it.
If you asked him now, he would be honest and say he had no clue why he reached out to you. He was alone and had no one. He couldn't stand being in Kings Landing after knowing the truth, knowing that the remaining royal family there had wanted him dead. Living in the shadow of a father he never knew and would never live anywhere near as in luxury of.
The rest of the country was poor, hungry, torn apart from years of war but Gendry had one skill that was not exclusive to one place. So he found work wherever he could, usually around port cities as if he was too paranoid to stay too long in case someone recognized who he looked like. For the first time he realized he had to forge his own path of his own accord.
Learning that you were alive, he thought maybe he was crazy, but he'd try it anyways. He had asked around where he could get work up North until he was offered a spot on a ship heading for Barrowton and it was as far as he was going to get on his own. Writing to you made him feel like an idiot. If you were dead and the rumours were all a lie, he'd be gullible. If you were alive but didn't actually care, he'd look pathetic.
But again, he had nothing else left. So he wrote to you as discreet as he could manage, and for almost two months he spent his days the exact same way. Finding himself a usual patron of one specific tavern knowing it was the only place he described. Eventually he realized what an idiot he really was, for thinking a royal would care about any of this.
Until he walked into the tavern one day, and saw you and a young boy trying to blend in as much as possible. Reuniting with Arya however, that somehow was stranger then meeting you properly that day. Though, were he honest, it may be due in part to the way Aryas older brother would watch him when they'd interact. From what you told Gendry about Robert Baratheon, Gendry had not walked into Winterfell with his fathers reputation on his side.
He hadn't told the truth, few knew. He didn't want people to know. No good ever came of questions from highborns and he certainly didn't want people looking at him as if being Robert Baratheons son meant a damn thing. The only thing he could say however, was how much he was grateful in which that you found it incredibly easy to refuse to ever divulge his secret.
More then once he'd hear Arya try to get it out of you, and she was not quiet about doing so. Gendry was just lucky Winterfell was busy enough his eavesdropping was never noticed by her.
“I swear you are the only one who would be annoyed at not having more to do.”
You wished to roll your eyes, and they looked flat enough at Arya that she got the concept without needing a follow through on the action. If Jon was keeping you out of things before, he was certainly doing it more now. It had been over a week still since that dream, and yet he seemed to be finding new ways at forcing you to not lift a finger. “Pleasure to meet you for the first time.”
It was Arya's turn to let her face fall flat, and your smirk came about easier then her one to hide. As you worked with her out there, you were at least grateful you were stronger then her, everytime she'd try and do more heavy lifting then you, you'd be able to yank it from her. As if both of you were children but vying for the place of doing more work.
Sighing out, she moved beside you, accepting that you were going to at least share the manual labour on this occasion. “Why are you asking me and not him?”
Tilting your head to the side as you glanced at her pointedly. “Beacuse you still aren't good at not knowing when to stop talking, and Jon is an expert at it.” You knew that was a point you had her on, everytime you asked Jon what he seemed to find his mind so preoccupied with the past day or so, he would give no answer and change the subject with ease.
He knew that you knew he was avoiding the answer, but you didn't know why.
Maybe it would annoy you more if you were worried it was something you couldn't trust him for, but it was certainly more he was keeping you out of the loop of something he assumed may weigh down on you. In a strange way, it almost seemed to remind you of many years ago.
Keeping you busy and distracted with different tasks in Kings Landing so you did not know what it was your father and Jon Arryn were looking into. Yet this time it was a different Jon who was doing the work elsewhere and using Arya directly to keep you distracted instead of piling more work upon your desk.
Looking over to you, Aryas eyes squinted in thought. “How about we make a trade?” Your brows raised in question, and her answer was just as unfeasible as you thought. “I'll tell you what Jon is doing, and you tell me how you and Gendry know each other.” Face falling more flat, were such a feat even possible, Arya's shoulders dropped as did her tone, only adding an annoyed bit of a whine that made you amused in your chest. “Come on, he won't tell me and neither will you. He didn't know I was in the North, you went to Barrowton to find him, clearly you both know each other for something and don't just say you met in Kings Landing. That's not a real answer.”
Shaking your head, you turned to her, arms crossing over your chest. “Gendry won't tell you?” She shook her head no, and the lack of change in your expression annoyed her on you just as it did when Gendry gave her an identical look. “Then that is the end of that. I'm not here to share other people's secrets Arya.”
“So it's a secret then?” Your look got even more narrow, and she didn't back down. “What is with you two? You're both just as stubborn as each other, no wonder you both get on.” If you weren't so good at keeping it all very stone faced, you would have laughed. So close she was sometimes, but yet not even anywhere near finding the answer on her own.
Not that the answer was something any had reason to guess out of nowhere.
The unfortunate part, was that in your steadfast nature to take care of things for Jon anyways did you come across the thing he hadn't intended for you to know. He didn't hide things from you, not that you knew but this seemed like you came across a raven scroll in the middle of something you knew nothing about. The sigil was clear, bordered with runes and black studs within the middle of it, you knew were it not in wax it would be bronze in colour.
Jon was in the middle of a correspondence with Ser Yohn Royce of the Vale.
On it's face that seemed strange but not out of the question impossible. He knew Ned Stark during his time in the Eyrie as a ward, it wasn't as if there was nothing to connect there, but still you sat there looking over words you could read and yet did not quite understand. They clearly had been going back and forth about something for a bit of time now, and seemed to be very careful in choice of words.
Nothing about the Vale stood out to you, nothing really told you why Jon had any business there considering it's lack of effort in the war. Then again, you also seemed to be the one without knowledge of the realm anymore, and so you felt uncharacteristically stupid. Insecurity told you he was keeping things from you beacuse he thought you couldn't handle it, even though you knew that voice wasn't fair it still spoke loud as you sorted through other things for him.
Eyes trailing back to that letter, speaking about things you weren't privy to nor did it seem Jon wanted you to be. You had no right to bring up questions about keeping secrets, not a single right. But you also weren't quite sure what it was you were uneasy over. Was it really that Jon was keeping a secret, or was it that you didn't seem to be anywhere near keeping up with how much was spinning in the world around you that bothered you.
Or, more realistically the more you thought on it in the quiet that afternoon, maybe it was the wonder that bothered you the most, if you were being kept so out of the loop beacuse Jon didn't think you could handle it. How much worse at standing by a Kings side have you gotten that Jon of all people didn't think you could handle something like this anymore?
With night falling over Winterfell, you were far too in your head to notice how obvious you were being, despite trying otherwise. Standing by the window in his chambers, your attention was busy trying to stitch something of his up. Back to him, your head rose just a slightly inch at the sound of the door but your heart beat irregular in your chest, so you doubled down on keeping your eyes on what as right in front of you.
If you not turning to really look at him wasn't obvious enough, Jon knew right away something was wrong considering how you didn't move to him whatsoever. It was always a routine, you went to him to help take off the heaviest of layers and Jon playfully protested that he never gets to do the same, considering you were normally dressed down by that point. But you didn't move to him or look, and it wasn't until you caught sight of him at the corner of your eye did you realize he even was that close.
Looking over what you had organized, normally a smirk falling a tinge on his lips at how diligent you went through and sorted by importance, urgency, order, everything just like your own work but just in the right way you knew Jons mind needed it to be laid out. Instead, his eyes were wide, shining bright with something soft but worried as he flickered his gaze between his desk and you.
His own voice low and rasping as he tried to settle his own unease as to not set you off the edge further, “Anything I need to know about?” Your face twisted, trying to remain neutral but it took that effort to look normal in the first place rather then such an expression being a fixed position.
Your voice murmuring quiet gave it away perfectly. “Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow.” It wasn't angry, worried, on edge. It was a soft tone, held back akin to a whisper. A tone Jon knew too well, was when you were trying to hide something insecure. Something upset inside your mind. Since finding each other again, Jon was all too knowledgeable about when you tried to hide yourself like that from him.
His head rose, tilting as if to implore you to look over at him but you were stubborn he knew, and you were not willing to look in case he was disappointed in you. The thought made your hands work faster, coming close to pricking the skin and your jaw tensing trying to keep the choking feeling from rising in your throat. The gentle voice calling your name only making that choking feeling skip past your mouth and burrow itself right into the back of your eyes in a sting.
Head barley turning to the side to show you were listening but his warmth enveloped your back before you could sense where he was. For once, you fought between tensing and relaxing into him, as he leaned over your shoulder, resting the side of his head against yours as his hands ran down your upper arms gently. “Can you put that down for me?”
Your eyes flickering up to the night outside before sitting the leather and stitching on the open window sill. Another sign to easy for him to spot, you didn't go to gently find something of his hand or person to wrap around your front, didn't move to take advantage of how close he was to hold him. You knew he knew and he knew it too. You weren't very good at hiding this, never with him.
What were you to say? Bring up that he was keeping a secret, that would be the most hypocritical thing you would ever say or do in your life. Instead your eyes kept firm on the outside. The sky was clear, black with just a crescent moon adorning it. You could feel him leaning more to look over your shoulder, one hand leaving your arm to wrap around your stomach. Pulling you back into his chest more and still you didn't gently grasp his hand or wrist.
Jon of course, found the most blunt approach. “If you don't want to tell me what's wrong, at least tell me what I can do to make it better.” Gods, you hated how hard he made things. You wanted him to not care and this silence could continue beacuse he didn't notice. Sometimes being in love with such an attentive man was inconvenient to your insecurities.
Mumbling out, “Everything is fine.” You both knew Jon didn't believe that. Your hands itched to grab him, reach back and seek Jons touch out somewhere but your mind was too much a coward.
“You're not. I know when somethings upsetting you.” The words didn't find themselves though, you didn't want it to start a problem. You didn't want to pester him, interrogate him. You didn't want to act as if you were entitled to everything just beacuse he was kind enough to take pity and marry you. Only before you could get a lie from your lips, Jon found the roots of it himself rather quickly. “I'm not trying to keep secrets from you.”
If you could shrug in his hold you would have, eyes drifting more to the side attempting to feel anything but the uncomfortable you did. “It's alright. I understand you don't want me getting in the way.” Jon lowly said your name almost in scolding but you persisted. “I just don't know what I have to do to try and prove you I can do otherwise.”
Jon let the hand not across your stomach move up, turning your head slightly to the side so he could see you a bit better, his voice deep and something hurt behind it in cracks. “Why would you think that?”
You wanted to walk away from this conversation, you didn't want to stand here and feel so pathetic in front of him. Trying to swallow the feeling back down, it was as if the need to let tears form came out of nowhere. “Everything that's happened, you can't have me screwing things up..”
Jon felt both stiff yet ready to fall apart behind you, his voice barley a murmur as he let his thumb run gently over your cheek. “Darling,” You shook your head but Jon only pulled you in tighter to his hold. “I don't know where you're getting this from, but that's not what this is, not even close.”
You couldn't really tell, but Jon certainly was realizing that something in you was blowing this way out of proportion.
Running a thumb from what he could of your scar over your dress, Jon rasped low behind you once more, almost in your ear. “All your life you run around trying to do everything for everyone, but now it can be different. Those men out there,” Head somewhat nodding to the open window before you, “They're the ones who called me King in the North. They look to me to lead them. But you're my Queen.”
In honest, your heart skipped a beat. You really hadn't ever head Jon say it so blatantly. It was like that with Robb, you both referring to each other as such as a way to get used to it alone and it almost turned into using it as endearments alone with one another. But you hadn't truly heard such a sentence so blunt from Jon before.
“I didn't want to marry you so you could do my job for me. I wanted to marry you, make you my wife, not because I wanted a Queen, but beacuse you're the only girl I've ever wanted. I don't care what other people think a King and Queen should be like. This is my kingdom to protect, but you're my wife. Which means it's also my duty to take care of you, not add to your stress more.” Only slightly, did your hands just barley lift up. Finding the bravery to move to him.
Not anything much, not even pushing the sleeve of his forearm up to feel his pulse. Just lightly sitting atop the material as you indescribably leaned back into him, Jon pulling you closer with every shift you didn't realize you made. Part of you wanted to deflect, wanted to obsess, but what came out of your mouth was the most honest of what rawness lay behind you. What Maege was trying to tell you not to do.
Softly, you spoke with a bit less weight in your throat. “No one actually believed Margaery Tyrell loved my Uncle Renly, no one believed when she went on to say she loved Joffery. Everyone knows she's faking. Doing what she has to, beacuse she wants to be the Queen. So everyone believes the lie that she's this innocent maiden falling for Kings and doing her duty. Everyone knows it's all an act to be Queen.” It was hard to focus on not looking at him, but the frown twisting into Jons face was deep.
The last thing he wanted, was for you to worry about what the North thinks of you. The last thing his people thought, was that you only did things to be Queen. He knows you and Robb loved each other beacuse anytime those years are brought up everyone is honest about how much you two were in love.
Jon also knew, everyone from one end of the North to the other was well aware of how deeply Jon felt for you. He didn't hide it for a second, he didn't want too. His came back to life beacuse of you, and not once did he hide the fact that it was you he laid his affections onto. Jon didn't have to lie anymore beacuse the threats lording over him didn't matter in this new life. Everyone knew, everyone talked about how much Jon had staked his claim.
But you continued despite the loud yelling in his head. “I grew up on Dragonstone, spent years in Kings Landing. I'm practically a foreigner compared to these people, and marrying the second King in the North looks as if I seduced my way back in.”
You could feel that tear in your heart and you hated that you didn't know why things felt so messy in your mind, or why the entrancing rasp of Jons deep voice lulled you back to something grounding as if he had bewitched you. “If you recall, I'm the one who tore all your clothes off that night, not the other way around.” Slowly, a fluster grew in your mind and radiated through an embarrassed look you tried to hide, but it only made Jon grin.
The small huffing breath was as much of a laugh as Jon was going to get, but his grip was softening a slight bit around you, easing up as you relaxed a bit in his touch. More life finding your voice then one at all. “I care about these people, I don't want them thinking I'm not doing everything I can to protect them.”
Thumb running back and forth still, not moving from your scar over the fabric as if he could rub a hole into it feel it with his bare touch. “Maybe I should call our men into court, let them know I can't seem to get my wife to stop trying to do everything and anything every moment of the day. Ask them how to force you to relax.”
Muttering quiet, you weren't judgmental but an honesty that simply was as sounding. “Jon, I'm fairly certain you've given Arya more responsibilities then you've given me since she's been back.”
Dropping down to someone rather monotone, Jon was so calm saying it you could almost forget what it took for her to even get back to him, like no time had passed. “That's beacuse if I don't give Arya something to do, she'll start chewing on the furniture trying to figure it out herself.” That got a real laugh, a light breathy one that lit you heart up a bit, and had Jons explode within the confines of his scarred chest. Moving close to somewhat nuzzle against the side of your head Jon debated turning you in his arms entirely. “After everything done, trying to burn it all to nothing...we still have a lot of work to do on top of that to make sure we're ready for winter. Gives her a chance to feel a bit more at home after all these years. Helping to fix it. But winter is coming, and that's how you're helping me. On the only fight that matters. That's where I need you.”
Nodding firmly, your fingers pushed his sleeves up just enough to run along his wrist, pulse always strong ever since it flushed back to life that night. Jon pressed a gentle kiss just under your ear in response, letting his lips linger as you muttered, “I don't know why I've been like this. As if the past week I feel one extreme to another, and no reason to explain why.”
If Jon had his own answer, it seemed he kept it to himself in the notable silence. Lips gently trailing down your neck, eyes fluttering just as a shiver ran down your spine in tandem. Both of Jons hands moving to smooth up and down the fabric at your hip to your waist. Kiss increasing in need, leaving small bites as he would lick and kiss the skin to soothe it. His facial hair scratching it's way raw that called to you for more, the feeling. Barley muttering in between presses of his lips along your now slowly marking up neck, “I don't need a reason to take care of you.” Moving up to rasp in your ear, you bit your lip at the sensation across your skin. “Will you let me take care of you? Right now?”
Eyes flickering up to the clear sky and with a nod of your head, Jon exhaled in relief. Hands at your sides now sliding across, undoing the belt and clasps at your abdomen keeping your dress all together, moving your hands away from his if you tried to help. You both hadn't commented, that you seemed to have more and more dresses added to your closet. Light and ornate designs that only someone who knows you as Jon does, could tell a seamstress to make.
They were all light in tones, or just the right greys and blacks that it was as if they were made to match certain looks on Jon himself. They also, you knew both of you weren't saying, were incredibly easy to undo. Laughably simple to pull off, and not much room underneath for layers. A silky, short shift if nothing at all but covering between your legs.
As soon as the dress came loose at the front, Jon pulled all of it off from his place behind you, letting it toss to the side without much care as to where it landed. Only, Jon wasted no time pushing the thin straps of your shift down your arms. Letting it drop right to the ground and shoved the last fabric covering you down just as quick. Leaving you bare, your own breathing making your chest heave in a lit spark of nerves.
Not for a second it seemed, did Jon care at all that he was stripping you bare in front of his open window. He didn't even move you from it, just let his hands wander until they reached your breasts. Both hands rough as they grasped a handful, groping roughly before Jons fingers slipped to run over the small buds on your breasts until they were firm for him to twist and tug as each cry from you made him all the harder.
Still, Jon didn't move you into the privacy of his own room. He didn't care. If anything, he almost seemed to step ever so subtly forward. As if he wanted you to be set on display for the gods watching from above. His teeth rougher as he marked your neck up. His breathing hot and heavy in you neck and you leaned back into his touch with meek cries of need. “Jon-”
One hand slipping down to your hip, that time it was a push forward no doubt. Your front pressed against the stone of his window, slipping to sit just low enough his fingertips only just stretched across your mound. The hand on your breast sliding up, tenderly running along your neck and turning you to the side enough he could see you even if you couldn't see him.
Voice rough as he didn't move to touch you any further, but kept you bare between him and the window, the beg in your mind that no one but the gods could see you. “Someone has been spying on us.” Your breath hitched, but not in a pleasant way.
You knew this time, there was no underlying meaning or intent in his words. This time he meant it.
“Someone has been giving information about what we're doing, where we are. And whoever these people are, are why the Brotherhood found you. They had spies looking for you.” Your hands reached up more, grasping tighter against his forearm as if needing to steady yourself but Jon ran his thumb along your cheek and jaw soothingly, voice lower then before. “I didn't tell you, beacuse if it weren't true I didn't want you to worry beacuse I was paranoid. But I'm not being paranoid.”
Inhaling deeply, you tried to steady your heart. Relax into his touch. Focus on his voice and maybe it would ease the feeling in you that screamed. Voice hardly there, but Jon always heard you. “Why would anyone care what we're doing in the North?”
Lips gently found your neck, pushing your hair out of his way and his hand slid to your collarbones and lower neck, as if to keep you steady against him in your unease. Murmuring in your ear, “Letting me call you a Snow, didn't stop you from being Stannis Baratheons daughter. And being a bastard doesn't mean my father wasn't Eddard Stark..”
What else needed to be said, really? A dangerous couple to the eyes of an enemy it seemed. Snow in name, Stark and Baratheon in blood and in control of the largest portion of land in Westeros, best suited for surviving winter. That, and no doubt, whispers that the King in the North had managed to ally himself with wildlings would certainly not be unsubstantial of a threat.
But Jon was still attached to your neck, as if he couldn't decide if he wanted you to be distracted or couldn't stop himself anyways. Now having switched to soft, soothing kisses against the bites and marks he was just gifting to you. A cool sheen of air left chilling on your skin everytime he moved along, from how much he purposely soothed the wounds he felt desperate to create.
Hand low on your body, his grip seemed to grow harsher, like he was torn on what to do all over again yet he put himself into this situation. You however, had no control of informing him of it, all you could do, was try and lean into his kiss along your neck, hand reaching back to grasp the back of his neck as your own nails dug into the skin in need. Slipping without thought, Jon let his hand now properly press against your mound, teasing the want to slip down and feel you entirely.
Stuttering breaths through your words you managed to force out a question. “Is- is that what Ser Royce was writing to you about?” A hum in Jons throat almost showed he was hardly listening beyond surface level hearing. “I read the raven, I wasn't trying to pry I didn't realize he was writing to you in private-”
Surprising you, Jon moved to cover your mouth with his hand, sliding his lips up to your ear with a roughness in his voice that shook you from the chills it left. “Remember when I told you not to mention your father when I had you in my bed?” Nodding yes slowly, Jon bit at your ear and tugged you back into him, not bothering to hide that time you could feel how hard he was. “I don't think I like hearing you talk about any man when I have you like this..”
Finding your eyes as you tried to look back, a more narrow look that spoke far too many jesting volumes then Jon wanted, he pulled back a bit. Eyes darker and darker as he tilted his head at you, narrowed brows. “Don't.”
Jon knew you far too well, instead of giving you the slightest chance of gaining an upper teasing hand, Jon finally slid his hand down between your legs. A growl in his chest right away realizing how wet you were and how long he hadn't been feeling it. Narrowing his expression more, he almost looked disapproving if you couldn't have felt his covered cock twitch against the plush of your ass.
Running his fingers along, he never truly committed to a touch, just fleeting brushes until your head spun and legs shook. Core burning in desire but Jon wouldn't let your mouth free now, not risking hearing you take your chance to rile him up more, so you stood, and endured and wished you could beg him for more.
Watching over your shoulder now, Jon muttered rough as he kept his eyes trailed with greed down your body. “Gods, you're beautiful..” An embarrassed whine flushed in your chest and tried to get smothered before Jon heard it, but he felt it. A far more chaste kiss then you could handle was pressed to your cheek as he finally gave you something. Sliding two fingers inside you, slow and steady but sinking right down to the knuckle as you gasped into his palm.
Never picking any pace up, just slowly letting his fingers glide in and out of you, no doubt soaking his hand every time as you felt yourself grow wetter around him. Leaning more against you each time, Jon rumbled deep in his chest as he looked down between your legs just as you wanted to hide against him at the sight and sound.
Muttering quietly, and nowhere near as rough as you expected, “I'm going to give you three. I know you can handle that, but I want you to shake your head no if you can't handle anymore. If you can't handle four.”
Eyes sealing shut for a moment, your core twisted and burned both at the twisting desire in you but at the overwhelming thought. How Jon wanted you to give him permission to ruin you further then he already has many times over. You nodded, but he called your name gently to look at him. Nodding slowly for yes, it was his turn to let a more shaking breath out as he looked at you.
Slowly, he pulled his hand away from your mouth, sliding his two fingers out of you first. “Sit down on the bed for me.”
Sometimes, you felt as if it should be shameful the way you never questioned him, never disobeyed any gentle command or order. As if you didn't want anything he did to you, to only be a suggestion. You'd let him do anything, and you wanted him to do everything he wanted.
Peeling enough layers off as you gently sat at the edge of the bed, your eyes instantly scoured his chest finding the very scars you never could stop seeing everytime you looked at him. A reminder of how you two were even able to be here, be together. Pants the only thing he kept on, Jon gently knelt down in front of you. Palms gently running along your thighs before letting one hand reach up to cup the back of your neck, and the other at your waist. Pulling you down to his lips into a kiss, your own hands cupping his cheeks.
A single bite to your bottom lip, and you granted him access. His tongue sliding into your mouth to freely taste yours, brush against your own and overwhelm you as he leaned up more to crowd you without actually letting you lay against the furs. It wasn't greedy or even overwhelming. But slow and careful, wanting to explore you as much as he coaxed you to explore his mouth right back until a high pitched whine sat in your throat from how long he kept you against his lips. Still, Jon refused to pull away. You knew, Jon wanted you to have that dizzy feeling when he kept you like this for so long.
Your arms wrapped more around his neck and shoulders, grasping along his back as he held your waist with more firm of a grip. Keeping you steady but unable to move against his own strength, you cried into his kiss but he smoothed his hand along your hair.
As if to keep you nice and calm as he refused you the air he seemed to find only in your kiss.
Ever so slowly, Jon moved from your waist. Running down along to your stomach where he ran his thumb over your scar as much as he could and then finally down again more. Spreading your knees apart better for him, Jon first trailed your own wetness up along to your clit. Jumping into his touch, he still didn't let you leave his kiss. Your nails scratching into his back by now, but it was as if that only spurred him on more.
It was cruel, how much Jon wanted you to rely on him for even just air to breathe.
Your core twisted right away, a burning coil that begged to burn bright until it took you over and nothing was left. Tight, tough circles against you and only when Jon would rub you a tad more raw did he go back to gather more. Tensing and tensing, you begged into his lips and finally did he pull away.
His timing even more cruel, leaving your lips right as your orgasm snapped inside of you. Gasping for air just as a plead of his name left you, saliva still trailed between your lips as Jon kept his grip at the back of your neck so that you couldn't lean away from him. Not even coming down, Jon slid his two thick fingers right back inside you as if that's where they belonged.
A rasp against your lips, feeling his brush against yours as he spoke. “It's alright, let me take care of you.” Nodding as you found his eyes, the grey wide and blown out against his pupils with lips still parted slightly as he looked at you. Smoothly he slide his fingers deep inside of you, pulling close to almost leaving you empty before just as slow, gliding right back.
Building it right back up, more and more you wanted to tell him to give you something else, but not once did you take away how much you trusted his touch without any doubt. Nails digging into his shoulders, gasps finally breached your lips and the moment you felt unable to contain your needing cries did Jon slide a third inside of you.
Eyes watching you with every sharp detail, your hips moved against him as your mouth parted in a gasp in between pain and pleasure. Right at that middle point you could handle. Asking low, but his eyes somehow were bright, something soft and genuine without that greed or lust taking over. Something more of affection as Jon pressed a chaste kiss to your lips and rasped, “Can I give you a fourth?”
You paused in your need trying to clear the fog in your head long enough to form words. Trying to speak through what felt like pants for air, your forehead pressed against his. “Anything you want, I promise. Do whatever you want to me..”
Jons own eyes closed. An exhale wavering as he still slid three fingers against your slick walls, right against something so sensitive it kept your nails digging into his shoulders. Another kiss to your lips, then to your cheek Jon whispered tenderly, “Don't give me permission like this..there's a lot I want to do to you, things I shouldn't..”
Shaking your head, your cries fighting with your words, trying to almost sob out the words against wanting to beg his name. “Anything, Jon..anything you want..” What was almost worse, was that Jon knew you meant it. It's why over a week ago, you gave Jon full permission to fuck you even as you passed out. Letting him do whatever he wanted, fill you as much as he wanted.
Judging by how utterly coated the inside of your thighs were by morning, you suspected Jon had taken you many more times then he was willing to admit. It was why knew he could convince you on that night with- his own thoughts interrupted at the feeling of your gentle touch. Moving to run your hands along his facial hair, Jon finally moved. Sliding a fourth finger inside and you cried out loudly.
There was the pain, the burning at the stretch as he sunk deep but your eyes sealed shut didn't mean you pulled away. Instead arching into him, hiding in his neck with his name a mantra on your lips. Jons fingers filing you slowly and as deep as he could manage, drenching his hand and the fur below with each glide and your teeth trying to keep calm with bites into his neck as if you had nothing else.
Whispering into your hair though, Jon told you the truth. “I want a daughter.” Tied between the cry as he brushed against your sensitive walls, tightening in your core at the feeling but a lightness in your heart there wasn't an insincere shred in Jons intention. His voice, was more solid and gentle as it had been since he walked into his chambers. Running his hand down your hair once more, “Anything I want, that's what you said. I told you I'd give you a son, and I will, but I want a daughter too.”
There was nothing on earth that would make you refuse that for him. Not now. Nodding your head yes, you leaned up to meet his lips. Nothing but a gentle press before he leaned over you, your back pressed into the fur as he kissed down your body. The cry as he pulled his fingers out replaced in an instant as he pulled your hips up to meet his mouth.
A grunt left his chest as his eyes closed. Tongue flat against you, soaking everything already there before adjusting his grip, keeping you slightly above the fur better for his own taste. What of your upper back still lay against the bed, your arms stretched out above you. Grasping tightly at the fur, as you felt powerless to resist how he moved you. Soaking you as much as you soaked his mouth, Jon drank and drank this time no shame in how greedy he wanted to be about it.
A cry leaving your lips, skin flushed with sweat and eyes wanting to water you were crawling towards your end once more, his tongue warm as everything else about him was and you let a choking sob leave you just as Jon groaned. You soaked his tongue even further, and tugging you more into his mouth you were sure Jon might just keep you this way all night if he could.
White hot and burning, you whimpered his name and swimming deep in your bloodstream was our orgasm as he licked deep inside, to flat along your core and up to nibble at your clit. Back arching you cried as it flashed in your body and overtook your muscles, the pleasure burning through you like a fever and Jon didn't let go.
Didn't ease up, just kept going and going. One more came, then another, Jon never leaving your cunt once for air, his mouth desperate to stay attached and drink from your oasis with fervour. Hands moving from your hips up, one pushed down on your lower stomach right against your scar as the other pushed up your torso and grasped at your breast, needing the softness while you held with weakness onto his wrist and arched again into him.
Muttering with no breathe left, “Jon, I can't, it's..please..I want you inside me..you-” Cutting yourself off first, you flew too close to the sun as your orgasm teased you on his tongue. His tough pressing down on your scar more as if prompting you.
When you hesitated, Jon barley pulled from your cunt to mutter against you. “Tell me what you want, darling.”
It felt embarrassing to ask for, but you had no control over saying it. “Please, please fill me..you promised to give me a- please..”
Only, Jon pulled you down to one more orgasm, your cry loud and back arching as Jon licked along your walls and up to your clit and everything in between he tasted, like a heaven. Jon muttered words against you, something short and by the grip on your hips, incredibly possessive, but against your cunt it was inaudible to any ears but him.
Forcing himself up, Jon captured your lips with his. Sloppy and messy he made you taste what turned him into a possessed man to taste any time he thought of it. Hands gripping your hips Jon pressed you into the bed unable to move as he hovered above you.
He still had one thing left on, that his cock was utterly throbbing behind. Pulling back, the saliva snapping as you both watched one another wide eyed and gasping. Kneeling up, Jon watched you lean against your palms to follow. Neither one blinking as he pulled everything left off of him with ease, cock thick and desperate to cum as it was between his legs.
You weren't even sure what was thicker. Four of his own fingers, or his red, leaking cock all on it's own. Too bad for Jon, you were taught to be quick by himself and sometimes you were sneakier then him.
Moving enough down the bed without giving up the leverage you sat slightly up against, before he could tell what you were doing, you leaned forward. Taking his cock into your mouth, and having the shameless audacity to moan as he deepened inside your throat.
Hand grasping the back of your hair, Jon swore as his teeth grit together in a hiss. Eyes slamming closed, but his lungs stopped working at how swift you were to let him more into your mouth. Licking what you could reach and only pulling back what you could from your angle, sucking with your own need as you did so.
Head dropping, Jon panted above you, chest heaving as he barley found the strength to watch. “Fuck..darling..fuck-” Growling deep, you felt his hand tighten. Instinctively, Jon felt you take as much as you could, and forced you there. Held you right against the coarse wild hair around his cock, not letting you up as you soaked around him. That time, Jon struggled to let you pull away, wanting to see you but he knew he'd spill down your throat the moment he did. Your mouth was too much to handle, Jon would fuck your small throat until your voice was ruined the next day if you'd let him. He'd do nearly anything to you by this point if it came up.
Were Jon not hurling closer and closer to cumming down your throat, he may have found it in him to feel ashamed at just what he was willing to do to you in this new life. How much of a perverse animal he wanted to treat you as despite knowing it was all tied deeply with how obsessed with you he felt, obsessed with loving you felt.
Jon pitied any version of his life that was once possible to not have you in.
Throbbing in your mouth, you moaned as much as your heart raced at him being so deep but before even Jon realized, he hissed dark in nothing but swears and your name slurred in as he held your hair tightly. Spilling down your throat, you swallowed everything despite how much his warm, thick seed had you muffled gags trying to take it all.
Keeping his cock in your mouth until he felt the last of his seed spill in and without wasting another moment, Jon pulled you off of him. Akin to anger on his face, Jon moved to hover over your body proper. Hands shoving your knees apart so you spread wide for him.
For a moment, Jon only eyed your soaking cunt, his chest heaving at the sight. Crawling above your body, Jon grasped your hands, pressing them flat beside either side of your head as he intertwined your fingers with his. Grey barley visible against the black in his eyes, and his hair still up meant you couldn't hide anywhere from the way he stared down at you. A whisper as if he couldn't speak much more, “Wrap your legs around me.”
Nodding, Jon waited rather patiently until he could feel your ankles hook around one another keeping you to him as he kept you pressed against the furs. One slow push, and he sunk deep without any resistance. Your name falling from his lips, and honestly, as much as your mind was a haze only feeling and seeing Jon, he was the same.
Were he not the man he was in this life, it would have been embarrassing how quickly he once more spilled inside of you. But you were so soaking wet around him, so tight but so smooth as your cunt was designed by the gods for his cock. Filling you, Jon didn't lose a bit of it, and slowly begun to slide in and out of you. Muscles shaking before his orgasm even stopped, he still begun to drag his cock along your walls.
Your hands held his tightly, head thrown back into the furs as you cried out. “Oh fuck, I love you,”
Jons head tilted, eyes pleading with you but he kissed you as gentle as his cock slid almost out of you before he gave up and fucked right back before getting two thirds of the way out. Nodding against you, you tried to keep up but Jon had you at his mercy, and you knew you needed to let him do it. His voice clear as he kissed you, then your cheek and murmured against it. “You have no idea how much I love you..no idea..” Clenching around his cock, Jon picked up his pace.
The slap of his skin against yours begun to fill your ears and you cried out one more, and Jon let it make him pound into you faster just to hear it all louder. Refusing to ease the pace as the slapping was so steady it would've been heard by anyone outside his still open window.
Everyone outside of it would hear how Jon takes you, and how long it went on for. Which was more then you imagined, or guessed. Once more, Jon knew he came shamelessly quick the second he felt your orgasm surround him. Soaking him, and almost begging to pull his cock inside of you deeper, Jon filled you as much as you came around him. Meeting ends for one another but Jon didn't stop. Just fucked and fucked, pounded roughly inside of you where no second wasn't air consisting of a crackling fire, your gasps and begs of Jons name, growling from none other then himself and the cruel, fast, slap of Jons hips against yours as he fucked you.
It didn't matter how often he spilled inside of you. But in that room, you didn't know that.
Walking through Winter Town with little guard wasn't quite the option most were happy with, but you knew the more with you the more attention it would draw in the first place. Which was why you were the one sent. Ser Davos walked beside you as the crowds in the streets were more full even in the snow then you'd ever seen it, you only wish you could enjoy it. “I mean no offence, but if he's trying to be discreet, seems odd to not send someone with a low profile instead of me and you, your grace.”
A ways off, you could see Ghost trailing about the streets. Not unusual, not now, to see the King in the Norths direwolf wandering about the castle and it's town but what wasn't normal, was Ghost following you from street to street as you made your way. Keeping an eye on you was one thing, but in a strange manner it felt as if he was purposely following you without commands to do so.
A long time it had been since you were around this part of the town. Like many buildings, nothing of it stuck out in particular but any who was aware of it's inner contents would know it by sight even in the dark. Your voice fell quiet, answering Davos's original point. “He knows it will draw attention all the same, the point wasn't to be discreet. It was to not cause a stir more then he has too. I walk in here, and there are very few who would make that assumption, all things considered. But, If Jon goes himself-”
Davos finished the thought for you, coming to an understanding light on his voice. “All anyone's going to talk about is what the King in the North does and goes in his spare time.”
You nodded once, and as the sounds increased the closer you both got, the more obvious that became to him. How much it would stand out indeed, to see Jon, their honourable King, for any reason walking into a brothel. It wasn't a large building by any means, small and limited with what was right out there as most activities likely done in rooms alone, not so much out in the open here.
Curious greetings of “Your Grace” came from the girls still out and about, but you had only one you were here to find. Whatever other eyes just might be in here, couldn't be what you cared about at that moment. That was a worry later. Up by what seemed to be a display like that of a tavern, behind the small counter was a face that went from the normal bright and sweetness most girls would give to any clientele, to something a bit more serious, if not nervous.
Light brown hair in natural curls were pulled mostly behind her and she, even in the cold, was dressed far more warm and covered up then the others. She seemed, to be the one who wander ins and new comers would speak too, in charge in some manner, but she didn't strike you as the kind to find a life on her choice to wrangle whores in their employ.
Approaching, your face changed little in the stiffness given, not much given away in expression or posture, as Ser Davos looked rather unaffected. Which wasn't much of a surprise, the kind of people and life he once used to associate with, this was likely nothing. In her, there was a roughness as if putting on such a pleasant tone wasn't her norm anymore. “My Queen, what a lovely surprise, is there something we can do for you?”
Ser Davos to your left was glancing around the room with his own watchful eyes, allowing you to turn yours to speak softly in the lack of eyes on you other then curiosity. “I've been told you have a girl in your..” Searching for a moment in your head of the appropriate word. “..employ, which has matters she would like to bring to my attention.”
That time, she was the one to look at the other girls in the room before leaning forward a bit across the wooden counter. “I do, my Queen..me...” Your lack of shifting expression seemed to put her a bit more on edge, but you knew here of all places was not where the mask should slip. Asking for her name, indeed she was the one. “Daisy.”
Turning to Ser Davos, he raised an eyebrow and your eyes narrowed in thought almost as a silent discussion. The man thinking to himself, sometimes it was amusing, how little you and Stannis realized that you conveyed the same things in the exact same silent manner. “We don't mean to interrupt your business, if there's somewhere the Queen can sit and talk that isn't preoccupied.”
You almost turned your head slowly to give him the briefest of jesting glances in your eye, but instead the unsure ones on Daisy in front of you kept your focus. She nodded quickly, “Of course, if you would follow me,” Not leaving to any of the other rooms proper, Daisy led you down the hall.
A stretch of rooms that only working girls ever would go into, kitchens, up keeps, things of the sort that men in need of a quick tangle did not care to walk passed. At the end there was a small turn in the hall to a room on the end, one clearly used for any non working girls, which was taken up by an array of things well lived in.
There wasn't much in it, no windows of course, but a small fire lit with a few candles around to keep it from being too grim. Pulling a chair out, she walked to one edge of the room to a cabinet, once more a voice of high politeness flowing from it. “Is there anything I can get you, my Queen?”
Slowly, you pulled off the white fur around you, draping it gently along the edge of the chair as you looked around the room, still not much of a change in expression. “No need to go out of your way.”
You knew she was on edge, but trying to tell her to settle wouldn't help. Taking a seat near a small table, you asked Ser Davos to give you the room. You could sense her anxiety from here. The girl was nervous and she had good reason to be.
What she was risking by doing this.
It was that morning hours earlier as some of the pieces came together. Ser Yohn Royce had been the one to reach out to Jon all of his own accord first. Trying to be diplomatic in how he expressed things, but Jon had picked up on it quickly, the feeling like there were things not being said in the raven scroll. So back and forth they had gone for a bit, trying to find the root of what Ser Royce wanted to say without risking too much and spelling it out in black and white.
There was something he thought Jon should know. Arya questioned it as the small group of you stood in Maester Wolkan's study, most around the desk looking at the records of every raven passing through these walls was kept. You were alone by the window, arm crossed over your stomach to prop your elbow up as your nails dug into your lip. Pacing back and forth in thought trying to put the same connections together Jon was.
“Why reach out to you now? Why not earlier, they didn't do anything during the war why would they want to help us now?”
Jons hands perched on the desks, tensing and retensing as he tried not to glance up at your silence in concern, keeping focus on what was right in front of him here. “Ser Royce isn't Lord of the Vale. If he's going against their wishes then he has to be careful. More obvious he makes it that he's reaching out to me, the more danger it might put him in.”
Arya's face twisting, not trusting quite yet. “But why now? The Vale refused to help Robb during the war, why does he care about us now?”
Your own expression grimaced, glancing over to the group with a quieter tone then the rest of them debated in, but Jons eyes trailed up to you instantly, catching the rest of their focuses. “It isn't their fault. They were kept in the Vale from day one, they weren't allowed to leave.” Arya asking why and you widened your eyes for only a moment as you considered how to phrase it without sounding too judgmental. “Robin was too young then to make any decisions, meaning Lysa was doing it for him. Not exactly what I could consider a..fair choice of a ruler, Lysa.” Glancing to Arya with a tilt of your head, “She was your aunt, but she was a far bit more then what some might call a touchy woman.”
None in the room, the two wolves, nor Maester Wolkan, Ser Davos knew what you were talking about. Not quite as directly, but Theon certainly did. He knew as well as you what the story was Catelyn had reunited with Robb telling of her sister. He, did not quite hold back the same way your low tones were. “Woman was out of her mind.” Head turning, Theons name scolding from you quick and short but he didn't give up his position. “What, you want me to tell them all about what Lady Catelyn told us? All that weird stuff?”
If you weren't so deep in puzzled thoughts, you might have laughed in a sheer awkwardness. No, no you did not want to hear any of that retold. You had seen some of that yourself when you both lived in Kings Landing. Horrible thought as it was, but at least she wasn't there anymore to still force Robin Arryn into all that strange nonsense. He'd be a teenager now, and the disgust was not quite hidden on your expression.
Many of you had bits of a story that came together to start forming an image that none knew what was supposed to look like. Some names Jon had, and two of which were to be watched carefully but it was a third, that he needed you to be the one to go speak to her.
“She's the only one Ser Royce said is willing to help. Knows who the others are.” There was too much at stake the rest of the North was risking, Jon did not have the time to dedicate to painstakingly root out who was watching and why. Whatever ploys were being set in his home, he wasn't tolerating. Not now.
Not with him. After what he did. Because as soon as Wolkan said who it was Lysa had been married to just before she died, you knew right away it was his eyes watching you and Jon.
You just did not have the information to understand why yet.
The air outside was crisp as it was cold as you stepped into the streets, and it felt a relief stinging across your face to feel it. Having asked him to give some privacy, both Ser Davos approached you as did the now quiet and much closer waiting Ghost. The direwolf finding your side much closer, a rumble in him when your gloved hand ran along the fur by his ears before the three of you made your leave. Speaking quietly, you didn't bother tip toeing around the subject. “I'm sending her to your Keep in Cape Wrath.”
Glancing in question, Ser Davos sounded a bit taken back. “Your grace?”
Eyes trailed firmly on the snow your feet would walk across to get back to Winterfell, your tone as flat but heavy in something disguised away from disturbed as possible. “I'm presuming her previous profession won't be an issue for Marya, considering the company her husband keeps. She can be a maid, work in the kitchens, something safe, something out of sight. But I can't have her here, and I cannot just send her anywhere. I need to send her someplace she will be safe. Somewhere Petyr Baelish has no allies.”
Walking in quiet, Ser Davos found no protest in him. “What did she tell you?”
Late into the night, it was odd, discussing it for the first time with someone who knew exactly what it was like. Jon would try and explain it as best he could, but there was nothing comprehensive about how it felt to walk within Ghosts mind as if they both existed together, both walked together. Sitting by the fire, Jon and Arya found solace in their new found strangeness not being only them.
“I thought I was dreaming of Nymeria at first, but then I kept dreaming, and it felt like I was controlling it but I didn't understand why it felt so real.” Her eyes staring off into the fire, the quiet between them needed no further explanation. “Then one day, I was walking the streets, and I found myself..I knew then I wasn't dreaming.”
Still hard for Jon to believe that Arya had been all the way in Bravvos. Even harder to believe what she was there doing, the things she learned. Then again, he knew he had seven open scars littered about his torso that also was hard to believe. “That's how you were able to see, you used a cat?” Arya nodded, and Jon almost smiled at his impress. It was incredibly clever, really.
He hadn't brought it up to her much, or anyone but it slipped out with a surprising ease. “When I died, I was in Ghosts mind.” Arya's eyes bright, yet trying to hold back the wavering in them at the image she thankfully never saw. “I was in his mind the whole time until I came back.”
Your name slipped from Arya's mouth, “How do you know she brought you back? If you were in Ghosts mind, maybe you were always going to come back.” Jon knew she didn't mean it in offence, but it was hard for any to grasp. The way you and him came back to the world of the living.
Eyes flickering to the flames head, Jon could recall it vividly. “I felt it. I know it was her. I came back and she was all that mattered, almost as if I'd be lost again if I didn't see her..and now..now more then ever I know it was her.” Arya asking quietly after a beat of silence if he was sure, but Jons jaw clenched as he nodded once knowing it wasn't that which she was asking about.
“And she doesn't know?” Again, Jon only had one response, but that time it was a shake of his head in a no. “Why not tell her?”
That however, was something he knew he couldn't properly explain, not to Arya, not to you even, it was simply something dark trapped in Jons head that he needed to figure out on his own. But right now wasn't the time, not with what had to be done, the next few weeks. Voice rasping out roughly, “It's not that simple for her. If I tell her before she's ready..”
He knows he'd feel as if he'd be pressuring you. And Jon didn't want to do that, but eventually you both were going to have to add this to the list of things needed to be dealt with. But not yet, there was no need to rush into this. The North didn't have much time, but it had enough for this.
Even after Arya left to sleep, Jon stayed there for a while. Eyes on the fire. Connecting everything else in his mind, finding the conclusion before even standing up to make his way to his chambers. It all connected, except for the why. He knew the who, what, when and how. But the why? He still hadn't the last piece.
Creeping slowly into his chambers, it almost was enough to freeze him on the spot. It always was when he'd have the chance to see it. Laid out gently on top of the furs of his bed, it seemed you tried to stay awake long enough for him but fell asleep before being able to climb into the bed proper. Now, you laid out, comfortable and more peaceful then any given hour of the waking day.
The only time anymore, you looked truly innocent and all Jon could do was feel his muscles tensing up as he tried to move around the room quietly. If he looked back on himself ten years ago, this wouldn't be an image he'd even dream of on his worst nights. Yet you lay here in his bed, as his wife, and even worse for him now, Jon knowing he had the freedom of your permission, to act on just how hard your innocent, slumbering body made him. Without having the guilt of needing to wake you up for him.
Making his way around to the front of his bed, the shame of what an animal he had become, as he was undoing the laces on his shirt. Only, he could feel the cold air of the room on his torso. It shouldn't have been any colder then normal, fire blazing, the windows firmly shut only it was cold in the room, yet it was freezing. And something rang inside Jons mind instantly, the last time such cold surrounded somewhere you were like this. That was, until his eyes turned white.
White flew everywhere. It covered the ground, the air, it flew along you hair, skin anything exposed in such bitter cold that held no escape. But that wasn't it's only form. Standing tall next to you, almost in such a place, he stood in it's full true capability of height taller then you. Fur white enough that it seemed as if the snow storming around didn't effect it.
Red eyes keener then yours and could cut through what you could not, whatever begged Ghost to stand here was not just the direwolf you knew in waking life. Eyes intense as he was quiet, but you could not discern it here, not in this place. Too well you knew what having Ghost at your side felt like, but this was not that feeling.
But you both were here anyways, and despite the sights ahead only storm, it was further you walked. Silhouette's followed like none which stood on the icy earth. Which was which there was no way to know, but a man and a woman shadowed against the cliffs around you in shapes almost like ice dancing in a dark sky reflection.
Taller then the man, hair flowing as if on fire but in a place you knew it could not survive. Moving along the two figures with a strange grace the man could not. Yet in place of walking, was an embrace, something close and almost akin to loving should it not be a freezing image swept away in the winds as your eyes squinted to look at it.
Stopping in your steps, Ghost turned to look at you. Once more eyes intense and speaking emotions as if a thousand more words were in his mind then only a direwolf knew. Urging you to follow him, stay forward, to not let yourself wander away or behind. Not in this place.
Lips and skin turning the slightest shade of blue, you did not know how it worked. Why you could walk here and survive when none else has known too. Ghost was of the north, it made sense, but you? The Sight should not give you new skin to endure the freezing cold. No normal man could, and having visions forced upon your eyes and dreams did not make you anything special. Not even death.
Did the cold lands of winter go on forever? Was the comments of exile at the end of the world so drastically wrong about the Wall? None truly knew how far it went and no one had ever gone this far and lived to return with it's details. So why did your feet walk through the snow now?
Bumping into Ghost he had turned so swiftly in the whiteness around that you hadn't seen until your hands braced against this thick fur. Still on four feet, he looked to the distance and a low growl vibrated through him all the way into your hands and veins throughout. Keeping you behind him almost but whatever caught his attention you could not see. “Ghost..” Your voice was barley a mumble in the freezing.
The direwolf did not turn to your voice, but you felt not his paws or claws, but a hand rough yet gentle dance as a phantom along you hair by the side of your head. Nothing but the wind and yet the wind formed only in such a moment into hands to comfort before shattering again. The hand of yours still braced against Ghosts fur, tightening in your grip as he growled deeper and the more he stared but it was so bright yet too dark to see what he did. The sky could have been any colour, all there was above you was more storm.
Only the sound other then wind and Ghost was a single caw of a bird. Your eyes flying to a high cliff and somehow against the snow and ice sat a crow, no bigger then any other but he was there. Staring down at you both without another sound but watching. You couldn't see any of it's details but something about the bird felt strange. As if this bird flew when it shouldn't be able to move on it's own otherwise, a raven sat beside him, feathers even from here looking as if they were drenched in blood.
Again as if only for you two down below, the wind picked up and once more the image of a man and other world like woman painted along the cliff side, stretching first from where you and Ghost stood. The crow cawed once more and that time Ghost turned as well. His red eyes seeking the image and up at the crow before it's growl simmered to something less offensive.
You and Ghost looked upon the strangeness of the way the ice in the wind danced here, until part of it flew down and around to brush against your wrist, tracing like fingertips down to wrap around your hand as if it tried to form one. Once more scattering into nothing when you tried to return the empty gesture. Ghost watching you as you stared down to the gone sight, and your grip on his fur loosened slightly. Something less tense in your shoulders as he shifted do sit somewhat but closer against your shaking side.
By the time either of you looked back, the crow was gone. But you were not alone, as Ghost sensed it the same time you felt it. This time, across your shoulder as a real hand. Ornate metal across the leather glove and Ghost turned to bite and snarl at it's owner before lunging to stand in front of you.
Shoving the figure back a step, and your heart raced in such a painful manner you could suddenly feel the wind dancing around your hand and wrist. The hold this time tight even though nothing existed to return, but your focus was barley there. It was on who Ghost stood in between to keep you from. One eye blue in a way that looked like a sinister lie while the other was gashed, blood dried as it was carved like a knife deep where the other eye should have been.
Whatever you had done to the stranger, in this world, those marks stayed and you knew his intentions would do more then scare you in just a dream. Voice smooth but skin crawling as he spoke over the windy storms and the growling of Ghost. “You Great Wolf will not always be at your side, girl. One night, you will find me once more.” Ghost stepped forward as he took one back. Eyes kept on your shaking form trying to remain impassive despite the fear in your eyes. “If the old man will not help you, then you won't be able to control it. And you won't know how to escape once this one is not here to protect you.”
Was your tongue cut out? You found no ability to speak, but the wind around your hand and wrist tightened to the point it almost hurt. Ghost in front of you, was ready to attack at any second he felt the stranger goes too far, but the stranger had a voice he enjoyed to speak.
“Perhaps we will find out if I can put a bastard in you, in here of such a place before your Great Wolf gets there first. Man of honour like him won't have much use for a whore with another mans bastard inside her.”
Not even Ghost could go for him quicker then he was no longer in your sights. There one, gone the next but you felt a breathe along the back of your neck that was not the same grabbing your hand. The strangers voice scratched in a paralyzing way only like one other had made you feel. Whispering as if to keep it a secret in his taunting. “Come find me, girl.”
But his voice shattered once more, and the winds clear only enough for the black skies with shimmering green to emerge where you once couldn't see then. Ghost's teeth pulling you into his great stature with a possessiveness just as the wind wrapped around your waist and kept you against it's non existent form just as much.
The shadows of you and Ghost did not reflect either of you again, just an image of two beings against the cliffs of a frozen land no one had known to survive before. But the wind tightened around you more and more and Ghost no longer stood at your side. Only just as your mouth opened to shakily call for the direwolf, a human voice rasped deep against you.
Above the silhouette's, you saw the crow back. Staring down at you again. But before it could caw out whatever it wanted to say, what you realized in an instant the second time, was Jons deep rasp calling your name much more close and gently, when your eyes opened.
Gasping for air, Jon kept you close. A hand running along your hair, the other steady at your waist as he murmured into your hair, pulling you into him. “Breathe for me..” Your arms came to wrap around his shoulders tightly, both refusing to let the other go.
Jon and you both, were utterly freezing beyond any cold currently flowing through Winterfell.
#jon snow x reader#robb stark x reader#jon snow#robb stark#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#jon snow x you#robb stark x you#jon snow imagine#robb stark imagine
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Parable of the Lost Sheep:
Redemption and Restoration
In the parable of the Lost Sheep, Jesus conveys a deep message about the relentless pursuit of redemption and the boundless grace of God. Let us delve into this timeless story and explore its significance in our lives today.
A certain shepherd had a hundred sheep, yet one of them strayed from the fold. Undeterred by the ninety-nine, the shepherd embarked on a relentless search for the lost sheep. He scoured the hills and valleys until, at last, he found the wayward sheep, weary and alone.
Filled with compassion, the shepherd tenderly lifted the sheep onto his shoulders and rejoiced, calling together his friends and neighbors to celebrate the sheep's return. In the same way, Jesus explains, there is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance (Luke 15:3-7).
This parable reminds us of the depth of God's love and his unwavering commitment to seek out and restore the lost. Just as the shepherd pursued the lost sheep, so too does our Heavenly Father pursue each one of us with relentless love and compassion.
No matter how far we may have strayed, God's arms are always open wide, ready to welcome us back into His embrace. His grace knows no bounds, and His forgiveness is freely offered to all who humble themselves and turn back to Him.
The parable of the Lost Sheep challenges us to reflect on our own lives and consider those areas where we may have wandered away from God's path. It beckons us to return to the fold, to repent of our sins, and to experience the joy of reconciliation with our Heavenly Father.
Just as the shepherd rejoiced over the lost sheep's return, so too does God rejoice over each one of us when we turn back to Him. Our repentance brings joy to heaven, and our restored relationship with God brings fulfillment and purpose to our lives.
Broader context:
Parable of the Lost Sheep (Luke 15:3-7):
This is the main passage where the parable is found.
God's Pursuit of the Lost:
Ezekiel 34:16 - God seeks out the lost and brings them back to safety.
Isaiah 53:6 - We all, like sheep, have gone astray, but the Lord laid on Jesus the iniquity of us all.
Matthew 18:12-14 - Jesus' teaching about the shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine to seek the one lost sheep.
Psalm 119:176 - Like a lost sheep, seek your servant, for I have not forgotten your commands.
God's Rejoicing over Repentance:
Luke 15:10 - There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.
Luke 15:32 - It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.
Acts 3:19 - Repent therefore, and turn back, that your sins may be blotted out.
God's Unfailing Love and Faithfulness:
Psalm 23:1-3 - The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.
Psalm 36:5 - Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens, your faithfulness to the clouds.
Psalm 136:1 - Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever.
Lamentations 3:22-23 - The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
The Shepherd's Role as a Metaphor for Jesus:
John 10:11 - I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.
Hebrews 13:20 - Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant.
Call to Repentance and Restoration:
Joel 2:12-13 - "Yet even now," declares the Lord, "return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; and rend your hearts and not your garments."
Revelation 3:20 - Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.
The Joy of Salvation:
Romans 15:13 - May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.
Psalm 51:12 - Restore to me the joy of your salvation and uphold me with a willing spirit.
Questions:
Have I strayed from God's path, and if so, am I willing to humble myself and turn back to Him?
Do I fully grasp the depth of God's love and His relentless pursuit of me, even in my moments of wandering?
How can I share the message of God's grace and redemption with others who may feel lost or disconnected from Him?
What steps can I take to deepen my relationship with God and experience the fullness of His joy and restoration in my life?
Let us pray:
Heavenly Father, we thank you for your unwavering love and grace, demonstrated to us through the parable of the Lost Sheep. Give us the courage to humble ourselves, repent of our sins, and return to you with open hearts. May we never forget the depth of your love for us and the joy that comes from being reconciled to you. In Jesus' name, amen.
#ParableOfTheLostSheep#Redemption#Restoration#GodsLove#Grace#Repentance#Reconciliation#Joy#Sermon#Prayer#christian blog#christian faith#compassion#christianlife#christianity#jesus christ#salvation#jesus#god#biblestudy#holy bible#bible verse#bible scripture#christian#bible study#bible#biblicalteachings#biblical studies#lost sheep#good shepherd
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Hail From Silverymoon: The Oath
Well, we all know what this is. The scene was so powerful I was crying even when it was bugged. I was in a foul mood days after played this. There was just so little we could do for our boy.
Astarion X Amaara (my wizard Tav)
__________________________
With Cazador defeated and kneeling before them, Astarion could finally perform the ritual to ascend. His eyes pleading, and mania etched into his features. "Help me claim the power that is my right!" he implored, his voice quivering. "Don't forsake me now, not when we're so close..."
Amaara stood resolute, "If you cross this line, there is no return," she warned, her voice filled with anguish. "Seven thousand souls sacrificed…there will be no atonement."
Astarion faltered, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But he clung stubbornly to his ambition, his voice cracking with vulnerability. "With this, I will be truly, completely free. I won't need to rely on the parasite to walk under the sun, and no one will be able to control me," he pleaded, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "I will be able to truly feel you as a man, and enjoy the taste of your favorite dish. I will have the strength to shield you from all harm, provide everything you deserve!" He grasped her hands tightly, eyes wild. " Isn't this what you want for me, for us?"
Tears welled up in Amaara's eyes, her voice breaking as she responded, "Not like this." She reached out to touch his cheek, her fingers trembling against his skin. "This will not be you, but a monster wearing your face. The Astarion I love will be lost," she whispered, her voice filled with heartbreak. "The hope of ever restoring you to life, however slim, will be gone. And I will never know the true color of your eyes."
Their gazes locked in wordless turmoil. Amaara saw the warring desperation and devastation in Astarion's eyes. A broken soul balanced on the razor edge between salvation and damnation.
"You need no dark powers. You have strength enough within. And we will walk together in the darkness if we must.” Sensing the lust for power tugging on his heart, Amaara put her fist to her heart and raised her other hand desperately, “I, Amaara Ashvale of Silverymoon, do hereby solemnly vow, before the watching gods:
I shall not rest until a means is found to restore my beloved, Astarion Ancunín’s life. No lore shall go unread, no stone left unturned, no journey unfinished, for as long as breath and magic remain in me.
Through scorching deserts, frigid peaks, lands ravaged and lands lost shall I travel, never ceasing my quest. Across realms shall my pursuit carry me - from streets of Waterdeep to the glades of Silverymoon, from the heart of the City of Doors to the top of Mount Celestia itself.
No barrier will stand before my resolve to undo this curse you bear. By my blood, my magic, my very soul do I bind myself to deliverance of your life. This vow, more steadfast than stone or steel, I make to you freely, without reservation or regret.
So hear me now in your hour of tribulation. Take my hand, set aside primal ambition, and trust in destiny and devotion - I will help you reclaim what was so cruelly stolen. This I pledge with all that I am.”
Astarion's body shook, overcome with emotion as Amaara's solemn vow washed over him. For endless nights, he had craved the power before him to reclaim control of his fate. Yet her words unlocked something deeper - a hope long buried under scars of trauma.
"No more looking back," he rasped, then he turned to Cazador, drawing his blade.
With each frenzied stab, Astarion felt centuries of twisted abuse and stolen innocence pouring out. Cazador would never dictate his unlife again. He was finally, agonizingly free.
The trauma of endless torture at his sire's hands now manifested in uncontrolled rage. Though Cazador lay inert, Astarion continued driving his blade down ferociously, as if trying to obliterate the memories themselves.
Cazador had sadistically stripped away his dignity, his autonomy, his very identity. The violations were endless, the pain unfathomable. No matter how many times his blade struck home, the wounds upon Astarion's soul could not be expunged.
Astarion's rage melted into racking sobs. He wailed at the enormity of what had been done to him, what had been taken that could never be reclaimed.
He was an empty vessel, programmed only to serve his tormentor's cruel appetites. And now that purpose had been obliterated along with Cazador himself.
So Astarion wept bitterly over the broken shards of the man he might have been. His dreams, his potential, his light - all ruthlessly squandered. This hollow shell was all that remained.
The lacerations ran deeper than could ever heal. But perhaps in time, they could scar over, if never mend fully. On this ravaged ground, he might yet rebuild, slowly and agonizingly, something resembling a life of his own making. But for now, the only balm was blood, vengeance, and tears.
Amaara's heart bled seeing Astarion collapsed in anguish beside Cazador's broken body. Every sob felt like a lash upon her own soul. She ached to ease his suffering, but hesitated to intrude upon such naked vulnerability.
Slowly, giving him space, she moved to kneel on the blood-stained floor nearby. Close enough for him to sense her supportive presence, but far enough to avoid crowding his raw grief.
Silent tears ran down Amaara's own cheeks as the enormity of Astarion's trauma truly sank in. Her fury at Cazador's cruelty blazed anew. Her hand twitched instinctively, longing to soothe him, before stopping short. The touch of another might yet feel violating when emotions ran so raw. Every fiber of her being wanted to embrace Astarion fiercely, to promise him he was forever safe now.
But she remained still, letting this catharsis run its course. A light shining softly through darkness, awaiting the moment he was ready to reconnect and begin healing. And when Astarion surfaced from the storm's eye, she would be there. She would remain steadfast, for as long as it took, until he was made whole again.
#'Cause all of me Loves all of you#bg3 fanart#astarion#astarion fanart#astarion fanfiction#baldurs gate 3 fanart#bg3 fanfiction#astarion x mc#baldurs gate 3#bg3#baldur's gate 3#I Hail From Silverymoon#my oc stuff#amaara ashvale
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lamentations 3:22,23
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.
- How great is His faithfulness.
- Here you are, the Lord has carried you and brought you thus far.
- We have so much to be thankful for.
- The same faithfulness will carry you tomorrow.
Prayer: Lord, thank You for Your great faithfulness towards me. I truly do have so much to be thankful for. You have been a merciful God and a faithful, loving and kind Father to me. In Your faithfulness You have carried me and in Your faithfulness You will continue to sustain me. In Jesus' name. Amen.
#bible verse#daily devotional#christian quotes#bible quotes#inspiration#daily devotion#christian quote#christian life#scripture#bible
196 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii, I wanted to say that I love your writing and I was extremely happy to see that your requests are open! You deserve all the recognition in the world ❤️ Thank you so much for sharing your talent with us 😭
Could you write Aemond taking both Alys and Y/N as his bedmates as spoils of war? Where the two have a relationship and Aemond becomes a part of it as well. Something sensual and smutty
Again, thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️
Muted Hearts (18+)
Pairing: Alys x Reader x bookcanon!Aemond;
Warnings: very mean Aemond and ANGST, manhandling, very dubious consent from Alys and full-blown non con from the reader;
Word Count: 620;
Author's Note: I cannot do three-ways their justice :") and since this Nonny asked for smutty action that involved Alysmond and the reader to be a happy-esque, credencial throuple, I decided not to write something too long.
This definitely doesn't have a happy ending, and it has potential to be triggering - so please please please proceed with caution?
You loved your Alys. You really did.
And when she told you of her own affection, you tried your hardest to believe her.
“So what? You’re just going to let him do this?”
“What other choice do we even have?”
The hushed whispers of the two old lovers rumbled through their tired throats. Tears of anger seeped her vision, cutting short her broad horizon. When Alys still refused to linger, her voice rose to a contorted scream. “You’re just going to let him bed you?”
Her steps ceased into a halt. The brunette transfixed her with her aching stare, and merely pursed her lips together. “I’m doing this for you – for us.”
“Are you?”
Aemond Targaryen ruined her life when he breached the walls of Harrenhal. And due to his impending lust, her life had never been the same.
Alys, truly, had been smarter – ever the conniving woman, she jumped fast into his bed. Disregarded the years spent in her comely and enwrapping presence, and the promises they had once made.
When the Kinslayer had called upon her, the girl seethed with ablazing rage. She took a hold of the full and hefty wine pouch – the crude excuse Aemond had used, just to draw her closer yet –, and ploddingly ascended the slim and narrow set of stairs, in the steadfast favour of reaching his chambers.
Alys’ elated moans drew narrow blades into her heart. She had reached the wooden door, yet remained enthralled in place. Tears simmered down her cheeks, as choler outrage and futore aggression protruded through her skin and veins.
“Your wine, Your Grace.”
The words which heaved out of her mouth were not her own to recognise. Her eyes closed in vern lividity, as the pair stopped their rasp-long moans – if only for a little bit, the quiet's been a short-lived blessing –, and the Prince Regent’s leaden steps resounded in the quiet room.
Half expecting to surprise him naked – and wholeheartedly precise with that –, her cumbrous neck moved to the side, bringing forth her hair in vision, and blocking the path to his devout discretion.
“I asked for a cup-bearer this evening. Not a girl apt for delivering.”
A sickening swelling of dread smacked her right across the mouth.
“Of course, Your Grace, I’ll go fetch Rickon.”
“The road to him will not be necessary. For we want you to voyeur tonight.”
“I’m afraid I won’t do that.”
“Your Prince commands you.”
“My Prince may well stick his urges in his arse.”
What happened next unravelled fast. He hauled her hair. He dragged her inside. She lost her balance and dropped the wine. Alys rattled out a protesting scream – though she might’ve concocted the latter end part.
“My love,” She hastily spoke, “Forget this dumb girl – come back to me.”
Her extended arms reached out to him, and Aemond’s hold just vaguely loosened.
Gods, how her heart throbbed harder than her head, as she stomached down their sick exchange.
“This one has a mouth to her,” The One-Eyed Prince had hissed unwashed, whilst turning to the sprawling girl with a careless bite laced in his cadent timbre, “My Lady says I shouldn’t punish you.” He hummed quite lax and satisfied, “Yet I cannot just let you off.”
Both women shared a look of panic.
“Touch me now... and I’ll gouge out your one good remaining eye.”
Her own closed up in the expectance of a rough-sent hit. Though that loud slap would never come. Instead, Aemond let out a rumbled laugh, and merely ferried her to the bed’s near edge.
Her hands were tied to the bed’s ebony foot, and a small screech beleft her lips.
“You’ll watch my sweet Lady tonight.” He had grunted with his back all turned, as he pried Alys’ legs in a roughened and effective move.
“Tomorrow I’ll ensure your turn.”
#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#aemond fanfiction#aemond imagine#alys x reader#alys rivers#alys x aemond#alysmond#idk this is fucked up
126 notes
·
View notes
Text
No coward soul is mine
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere
I see Heaven's glories shine
And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear
O God within my breast
Almighty ever-present Deity
Life, that in me hast rest,
As I Undying Life, have power in Thee
Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts, unutterably vain,
Worthless as withered weeds
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main
To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thy infinity,
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of Immortality.
With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears
Though earth and moon were gone
And suns and universes ceased to be
And Thou wert left alone
Every Existence would exist in thee
There is not room for Death
Nor atom that his might could render void
Since thou art Being and Breath
And what thou art may never be destroyed.
Emily Brontë, “No Coward Soul Is Mine”
#emily bronte#no coward soul is mine#quotes#poetry#english literature#litblr#lit#literature#classics#typography#full poems
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Behold! For six blessed months, hath mine abode been in the chambers of rehabilitation. Yet, time and its relentless march, though the hours doth pass. But lo! Organic sustenance, a repast whereupon I cannot sup without the wretched upheaval of my innards. Throughout the day, I partake of doses of Olanzapine, and within my soul doth, resonate the soothing balm of its message. Still, the yearning to flee the anguish doth persist, though my mind be a dam against the flow. And as I lay upon yonder hospital chair, I am watched, whilst I wither away in silent lamentation. In the night's embrace, I fancy myself a specter, seeking escape through the winding passages of my veins... Despite all that has befallen me during my rehabilitation, I have conceived the notion of crafting a cradle of pills to soothe the physical and mental wounds I have inflicted upon myself. Sadly, I cannot swallow the antidepressant life of Serotonin, yet in the wee hours, the doctors cease not to slumber, eager to discern the whispers I utter and the words I inscribe in my diary of withered blooms. I have witnessed the brightest and most intelligent youths laid low by mental afflictions, borne of the myriad harms we endure, thus feeling a semblance of humanization. Some souls are of angelic love and benevolent hearts, while others shall not deign to acknowledge your sentiments... I yearn for someone to taste the coursing rivers within my veins! Let them glean the meaning of the sorrowful catastrophe that rages within me. I have heard tell of being branded psychotic, and my heart, suffused with a bittersweet pang, for it seems no one has truly comprehended me.
At this present moment, I harbor no desire to engage in discourse, though my yearning for the written word remains steadfast. I have endeavored to flee the tumultuous confines of the hospital, yet there exists within me a force that doth restrain. In turns, I find amusement and ennui, and to the eyes of astonishment, I release the torrents of tears that flow from the depths of my soul. I have beheld individuals older than I, ensnared upon the arduous path of cerebral affliction, and all I have done in their company is weep amidst the small garden of plastic blooms. I have offered my prayers upon the rosary, beseeching only for the chance to vanish into a realm where disappointment holds no sway. Nevertheless, I have never relinquished hope that my mother might perceive, with her heart, the strength that sustains me through this torturous ordeal. O, dear mother, from your womb and ethereal heart, I deeply lament having fallen once more into the abyss. I vowed, from the most divine sorrows of my heart, to vanquish this misery, yet the mental turmoil begins to allure me gradually. Pray for me in your abode, and I pledge to kneel in transcendental agony... I behold the false flowers in that diminutive space and yearn to ingest, so it may reach my stomach in a state of serenity. And know I will relish it, craving to taste the cruelty! But I rue being born a "masochist," as the malevolent serenade claims. I tread, pondering how to become a heavenly ghost, to safeguard my soul, though I fail to cherish it... Refuse to belong in a world where one must strive to end their own life. I have beseeched God solely for happiness and peace. Yet, after months of battle and being utterly wounded, I refrain from shedding tears, speaking, or even praying for misguided mortals. The pills shall become my preferred overdose... Slowly embracing that warm embrace of death, yet there are things I still yearn to inscribe.
Mighty is the duality, and every endeavor is in a state of decay. Once more, I have beseeched and knelt for the personal forgiveness of my shadowy sins. I am not the perfect daughter that my father desired to survive in some civil or worldly wars. With all the conditional love that I gave to my dear father from the most putrefied part of my heart, I felt it was a fleeting state. A love with brief explanations, longing for the last message to find the saving light again by a father who never showed affection towards thee, and it is a pain... I do stab myself and the weight of my body that I have obtained during my childhood hurts, though it be a grievous wound, it will not hurt as much as having muscle or fat that thou dost not wish to have to survive... It is always the same with me; I do not take my medicines, I observe my sinister bones in that mirror of rehabilitation, I have written poetry that in the end culminates in tragedies, I do not ingest the perfect quantity of food that the human being needs, I only walk and yearn for the portraits of my parents in this place, I see the television and appreciate a nun and a monk weeping with all their heart when they speak the healing words of 'Matthew 6:25,' and in the nights, I remain somnambulant in the hospital chair. Shall it be known if my mother will save my wounds spilled by my sufferings that shall be of eternal judgment. Even in my life, I desire the praise of my father, but he hath forsaken me... And in the sacred love of my mother, I have found some salvation, although in my sorrows, I never observed it. I lament it greatly...
Lamentation, I find myself ensnared in a stage where the stench of decay looms ominously. My body forsakes me, rendering me unable to walk, to eat, nay, even to think... I beseech God for the wisdom and aid to deliver me from this mental abyss. I do not seek punishment, yet I shall endure the burden of this malignant desire that festers within my mind. It is a challenge beyond thy comprehension, to convey the struggles I have borne through the passage of years. My existence has revolved around sustenance, though I yearn to forsake it, to revel in the twisted pleasure of a macabre dance amidst a music box wrought from corpses. Some shall never grasp the moment of my fading, yet gradually, the truth shall unveil itself... And my longing shall fade, buried beneath a deluge of tears and screams. I can hear thy words, I have witnessed the suffering of others, abandoned to their plight. But what was I?... A sorrowful porcelain figure crafted by an artist who depicted the spillage of our blood, and the romance of life, death, and human bones. I have longed for death, though it eludes the dreams I cherished in my youth. My love for the creations nurtured in rehabilitation has withered into naught but rust. With a heart weighed down by sinister despair, I choose to crucify my pain...
Mother Dolores, "Homestead Rehabilitation."
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
No Coward Soul is Mine
Emily Brontë
No coward soul is mine
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere
I see Heaven's glories shine
And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear
O God within my breast
Almighty ever-present Deity
Life, that in me hast rest,
As I Undying Life, have power in Thee
Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts, unutterably vain,
Worthless as withered weeds
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main
To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thy infinity,
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of Immortality.
With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears
Though earth and moon were gone
And suns and universes ceased to be
And Thou wert left alone
Every Existence would exist in thee
There is not room for Death
Nor atom that his might could render void
Since thou art Being and Breath
And what thou art may never be destroyed.
via.
#it's national poetry month!!!#emily brontë#ellis bell#19c poetry#english poetry#british poetry#vain are the thousand creeds / that move men's heartsι unutterably vain
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
No coward soul is mine
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere
I see Heaven's glories shine
And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear
O God within my breast
Almighty ever-present Deity
Life, that in me hast rest,
As I Undying Life, have power in Thee
Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men's hearts, unutterably vain,
Worthless as withered weeds
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main
To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thy infinity,
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of Immortality.
With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears
Though earth and moon were gone
And suns and universes ceased to be
And Thou wert left alone
Every Existence would exist in thee
There is not room for Death
Nor atom that his might could render void
Since thou art Being and Breath
And what thou art may never be destroyed.
Emily Brontë, No Coward Soul Is Mine
#emily bronte#literature#poetry#poem#no coward soul is mine#soul#spirit#earthly life#eternal spark#eternal life#inspirational#faith#connection#oneness#life#death#birth#creation#source#love
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
“I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, and he will hear me. In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord; in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying; my soul refuses to be comforted. When I remember God, I moan; when I meditate, my spirit faints. Selah You hold my eyelids open; I am so troubled that I cannot speak. I consider the days of old, the years long ago. I said, “Let me remember my song in the night; let me meditate in my heart.” Then my spirit made a diligent search: “Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable? Has his steadfast love forever ceased? Are his promises at an end for all time? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he in anger shut up his compassion?” Selah Then I said, “I will appeal to this, to the years of the right hand of the Most High.” I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old. I will ponder all your work, and meditate on your mighty deeds. Your way, O God, is holy. What god is great like our God? You are the God who works wonders; you have made known your might among the peoples. You with your arm redeemed your people, the children of Jacob and Joseph. Selah When the waters saw you, O God, when the waters saw you, they were afraid; indeed, the deep trembled. The clouds poured out water; the skies gave forth thunder; your arrows flashed on every side. The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind; your lightnings lighted up the world; the earth trembled and shook. Your way was through the sea, your path through the great waters; yet your footprints were unseen. You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.” Psalm 77
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
I guess I like your eyes
I want to tell you things.
but the words are trapped in my throat.
I long to show you things, take the moon from her silvery spindle and weave you the cosmos.
but I can't.
I'm small, and tired, but never hopeless, perhaps. as I've been told, reiterated through my skull a hundred or thousand times.
"you're not hopeless,"
am I not?
then give me hope.
please.
I'm begging, but that doesn't offend me.
it doesn't bother me.
I've never been that prideful. pretentious, sure. vain, sometimes. but underneath is the longing, sinking, grasping need to be loved.
i've never thought of my pride as a tall striking figure sticking it's nose up at the mere notion of shame.
no, I'm no way far that self sure.
I am small, yes, and tired, I'm growing older every second.
and you,
you.
I was fine before I met you.
I didnt ask to feel this way (but oh how I did)
I longed to the sky gods, oh please let me love. even if it is never returned let me at least so much as taste it.
you let me, yes.
but at what price?
I was fine before I met you.
I should've expected this.
I am in no need of pity, but I am in need of care.
I have been flitting by on torn off wings, hemmed together crudely by spinning thread.
they shiver and shake, but never shatter.
they get the job done.
oh how you could rip them so easily from my back.
watch as the blood trickles down my shoulderblades.
staining the earth like hawthorn and raspberries.
would you laugh?
(you'd never)
but even then could I make myself hate you.
we're similar, you and I.
we're both fighting, perhaps different wars.
are we winning?
I want to tell you things.
things like how your smile makes me feel alright again.
how your voice sets my reeling, grasping mind back into orbit.
are you the sun? (no,)
I am the moon, or perhaps a star,
waiting, patiently for my glittering demise.
perhaps I will create new galaxies when I finally shudder my last breath.
or maybe I will simply cease from existence.
a final nod of delight and wear-wasted worry before my soul elipses into the universe.
but you.
there's you again.
I dont want to get too poetic.
but it's too late for that, I am writing you poetry.
I do not wish to confine you, place you on a pedestal, crown your glories and grossly disregard all your shadows and scars.
I'd like to know all of you, if you'd show me.
I sense sadness, it laces my soul as well.
but we are not meant for each other.
I am far too fickle, fragile,
but I am unwavering in these emotions.
they stay steadfast anchored to you even if it drowns me alive, the water pours in through my throat flooding my windpipe, how long will I have to suffer but I will not struggle once.
let the ocean consume me I'll grin at my fate and sink slowly into the sea.
I don't let others love me.
how could I expect you to?
I gaurd myself, center myself in corners, near exits, near hills.
so I can dart and run and flee when they get too close.
when the fingers linger at my open wounds, tracing the cuts that never healed.
no, I'm not good with affection.
I can offer it, but in fractured closed-off and gentle notions. in ways I am so careful, I will only come when called. beckon me on churchbells on windchimes on daybreak.
and like a sprite I may appear.
but not sugar-sweet and cotton-down, but thorn-sharp and grinning, blood-bitter and fern-wise.
I can offer help. I can offer comfort.
but I am no siren, perhaps I'd prefer to be.
I am a selkie, trapped between realms.
do you have my coat?
I have not seen it in a while.
oh how I'd let you keep it, hide it from me, bind me to this mortal hellscape.
tell me you love me, that you look into my eyes and see solace and starfire.
but as you would I believe I would crumble.
smoke-soft and fire-bright I would fall into ashes through your fingers.
into tears, sea salt, and agony.
I have gone this long without love, I believe the softest note of affection would cause me to truly shatter.
I would not be able to take it.
how could someone want me?
I understand of course,
but there's always a bitterness held in my mouth.
an aftertaste of rot and honey.
am I cursed of either two fates?
equally terrible and equally tragic.
will I forever be the dryad, petals in my footsteps, rabbit-eyed, deer-footed, my hair golden like a halo of sun, my eyes watercolor and shifting. mist and daybreak, fated to be wanted. fated to be sought.
but I will flee, unmistakably.
chased down by longing hearts I do not wish to harm them.
and as Daphne before me, I will fall to the dark embrace of Mother, let the ferns and the fungi and the worms and the shrews take me. they'll be kinder, I know.
or the other end?
I will chase my demise, flirting with death until they notice me, until they take these broken bones and kiss me, all enchanting, all empowering as the belladonna and aconite stains my soul.
icarus reaching and straining on melting wings to the lover that sent him to his watery grave.
but oh, there's a sickness in this allegory, I just realize.
both ill-fated lovers fell at the hands of the same golden god.
are you him?
perhaps I've always been twisted into a dark self preservation and self destruction.
a phoenix burning herself alive to taste eternity.
ouroboros consuming his own tail.
I'm quite fond of metaphors?
oh can you tell? can you tell?
so tell me,
what is my fate.
stars, gods, cards, and trees.
whispers and ruins what will be the death of me?
I long for love. (doesn't everyone?)
honestly, that's all I ever truly wanted.
a softness that can ease these burning bones of mine.
but I will mend others how I wish to be mended.
I'll tend to my books, to my studies, to my plants, to the stars.
when infinity is over perhaps they'll give me a nice seat from which to rest with them.
not next to orion, hopefully, I'd wish to remain in Artemis' good graces.
but yes.
you have lovely eyes, I believe I lost you.
I never had you, nor your heart, nor your attention.
I'm merely something of curiosity to most who encounter me, a strange speck of insanity and irony, earth-old and riddle-ridden.
try to ruin me, wrap your hands around my throat Death, as Life guides me by the arm.
I am somewhat here.
fluttering like a moth heart, beating like a bird song.
tell me what it is to live.
but yes, as we reach the end of this cacophony of condolences.
I do like you, yes.
in ways I cannot describe.
but in the very least, I do like your smile.
and your laugh makes me feel a small bit lighter and less dead seated to the center of the earth.
and your voice is a symphony of hope.
you gave me hope.
that's all I've ever asked for.
hope and love.
but at least I've been given one of those things.
godspeed.
I wish it to you, I'll bear a sword and mend your wounds.
I'd dress your scars and tend to your brokeness.
but in the meantime
yes,
I like your eyes.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
And when he was demanded of the Pharisees, when the kingdom of God should come, he answered them and said, The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you. - Luke 17:20-24 KJV
As we are approaching the end of the year and the beginning of Advent, we begin to see more Bible passages about the end of the world, the Kingdom of God, and the second coming of Jesus Christ. This passage interests me because of Jesus' comment that the Kingdom of God is within us. What do you think He meant? Some commentaries on this passage translate the Greek to mean that the Kingdom in "among" us. Either way, it's an interesting statement to reflect upon. It could mean that the very presence of Jesus living with them is a sign that the Kingdom of God is there in preaching and works of Jesus. If "within" is what Jesus meant, then it means something a little different. Yes, it means that the Kingdom is present in the person of Jesus. But what about "within us"? We pray in the LORD's Prayer, "Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done on Earth, as it is in Heaven". Now Jesus is telling us that the Kingdom has come. Does this mean that when those who had accepted that Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah, then the Kingdom lived within them through faith?
For those today, who have accepted Jesus as our Savior and have been baptized into Christ Jesus, it might mean that the Kingdom lives within us. If that is so, then we are also responsible for helping the Kingdom come and grow where it doesn't yet exist, in the hearts of those who don't yet believe. If God's Kingdom is one of love, then the Kingdom is within us through the love we share with Christ and one another. The other part of this passage warns against those who will claim that Christ has come when He has not. Many have been deceived over these last two-thousand years; we don't want to be among them. May the love we bring to the world be a sign of God and His Kingdom of Heaven within us and within the world. May we also work to help His will be done on Earth. In good times and bad, we must trust Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ and we must remain humble and faithful as we continue forward on our journey with Him. May Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ strengthen us, forgive us for our sins and set out feet back on the right path as we grow spiritually everyday.
We come to Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ with sincere hearts to ask forgiveness and follow Him and His Holy Word and Spirit always. May Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ open our minds and hearts more and more to perceive and embrace Him and His truths. May He help us to find time to pray and read and study the Holy Bible daily and to find power in prayer, praying according to His Holy Word and will. May He help us to come to Him in true repentance and with faith in Him and His grace and merciful nature. We must never cease in worship. We praise Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for the mercy He bestows upon us and we are grateful for His grace and mercy and infinite blessings. May He forgive those times when we complain that His way is too hard, and may He give us the grace, courage and strength we need to walk with Him and do His will daily. May He teach us to watch our words when we pray to Him and to speak reverently and rightly. And may He teach us also to speak only kindness and truth with our neighbors that we may be men and women of our word. We must always respect God and His power and remain hopeful in His plans for our lives. May we continually ask God to transform our hearts and make us faithful and humble as we walk with Him daily. By surrendering our hearts and our lives to His will, we see all the blessings He has bestowed upon us. God our refuge and our salvation and our constant provider. We lift our voices to Him in praise for His steadfast love, mercy and understanding. Let us seek Him and a better understanding of His Holy Word daily, not for the sake of entertainment or mere accumulation of knowledge, but that we may love and serve Him more and more with each day that passes. We must come to Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ with honest, humble and repentant hearts. We must seek Him and His will and choose to follow Him all the days of our lives. May He help transform our hearts, help us to seek and live for Him above all else and to grow spiritually and build our faith and relationship with Him with each passing day. May He forgive our sinful nature and help us always make Him and our relationship with Him top priority.
As true and born-again Christians, we choose to walk in His righteous path and lead a life that is pleasing to Him. We desire Him and His will above anything else. We desire to walk in accordance with the love and light He has shown to us through His Holy Word and Spirit. We long for a deeper relationship with Him and a deeper fellowship with our brothers and sisters in Christ as well. When we fall into temptation and sin, we must turn to Him for forgiveness, strength and guidance. When believers learn to walk in accordance with God's Holy Word and Spirit, they have deeper fellowship with both God and one another. And the sin that could threaten to destroy that fellowship, if confessed (1 John 1:9), is covered in the blood of Jesus Christ and no longer a barrier between us and God. May we ask Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ to forgive us for any sins we have sinned this day or in days past. May we be faithful to Him and His Holy Word always. May He help us to walk more consistently in the light and to not neglect long to confess and forsake any sins that hinder our walk with Him. May He lead us in the direction He wants us to go so that we may seek and serve Him faithfully. God is holy and almighty and deserving of all praise honor and glory. We rejoice in Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ, knowing He is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). He is the Alpha and the Omega (Revelation 1:8). May our hearts always be filled with thanksgiving and rejoicing. May He help us to praise Him freely and honestly like all believers who came before us. May we live a life that showcases our love and trust in Him and His Holy Word and Spirit as He uses us draw others to Him and His soul-saving Gospel Truth daily. May He continue guide, correct and protect us, so that we continue to grow in Him and not weaken and stray. May we all remain faithful to Him and to this duty and purpose He has called us to. Seek and put your faith and trust in Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ and let Him do the rest. May He humble our hearts and help us focus on following and serving Him daily and helping others with joy and happiness. We lift our voices in praise to Him for His love, mercy, peace, faithfulness and grace - For EVERYTHING!
It is vital that we remain rooted in Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ through prayer and His Holy Word and Spirit and that we live and walk as a beacon of His light and love and share and spread the Gospel Truth daily, so that the lost souls in this world can come to know Him and be saved. The more we focus on Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ, growing spiritually by building our relationship with Him, leaning on Him and His Holy Word and Spirit, the better off we will be. Thanks to this and our faith in Him, we know that everything will be alright. And we will forever be grateful to Him. As true and born-again Christians, we believe in Him and His Holy Word and we strive daily to walk in His Holy Spirit. We know though our mortal bodies should die, He will raise us up and into new and glorious bodies (The Rapture). We who are truly His and alive at His second coming will never die, and our bodies will be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, and so shall we ever be with Him in His Kingdom of Heaven forevermore (1 Corinthians 15:51-52, 1 Thessalonians 4:16-17). This is one of many promises given to us by God Himself. Thank God for His strength and guidance when we are faced with sin and temptation. Thank Him for His mercy and grace. Through Bible study and prayer, God reveals His wisdom and guides us to see opportunities to grow closer to Him and grow spiritually. He gives us direction to live our lives daily according to His will.
Jesus Christ is the ONLY way to Heaven (John 3:5, 14:6), the ONLY way to salvation (Acts 4:12, Ephesians 2:8-9) and He is the resurrection and the life (John 11:25-26). Jesus Christ the LORD of lords, the KING of kings, the GOD of gods (Deuteronomy 10:17, 1 Timothy 6:15, Revelation 17:14, Revelation 19:16) - He is the Living, Almighty and Everlasting God (Isaiah 9:6, Revelation 1:8, John 3:16, John 3:36, Jeremiah 10:10). There is no other God besides Him (Isaiah 45:5). We MUST humble ourselves before Him, turning our backs on false teachers, false gods and idols and our sinful ways. We MUST repent and turn back to God and recognize who He is and love Him in return for His great love for us. We MUST make God top priority everyday! May we be motivated to spread God's Holy Word and Gospel Truth to all the Earth, knowing that it is the only hope of all those lost in their sins. Let us not hold out a false hope for men to be saved without the Gospel, but instead, strive to do our part to get the Gospel out to a lost and dying world.
Leaning on Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ through prayer and His Holy Word and Spirit strengthens us and our knowledge and wisdom about God and His Gospel Truth, exposing these imposters. May God help us to seek and lean on Him daily to gain the strength, wisdom and spiritual discernment needed to expose Satan and his imposters who seek to destroy us and God's ultimate Truth. Everyday, we must remember to share Jesus Christ's Gospel Truth with the world and to thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for the grace that He poured out for us on the cross at Calvary. He has freed us from the burdens of sin and from the eternal damnation of Hell. In all we say and do, may all praise, honor and glory always be given to Him and His Kingdom of Heaven.
With renewed minds, hearts and wills, let us serve Him humbly and faithfully out of pure love and grateful rejoicing. May He remind us of His presence and to remain at peace, fully knowing that all will be well because He is always with us. Let us seek Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ today and everyday with all our heart and being, looking for His love, light and will for our lives with each step we take. Let us seek to please Him with our thoughts, words, and deeds and seek to advance His Kingdom of Heaven and His glory with our lives. Let us seek Him from a pure and humble heart, and when we so seek, we believe Him and His promise that we will find. May He help us all to be more sensitive to the teaching ministry of His Holy Word and Spirit, relying on Him and allowing Him to speak to us and guide us every step of our Christian journey.
God gave us the Holy Bible - His living and Holy Word - to let us know of Him and His abiding love and care as well as guide and prepare us for all our lives. May He help us encourage one another as we continue our walk with Him and our duty to Him daily. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for being present for all our new beginnings and all our lives. May He redirect any anxiety we feel as He provides countless opportunities for growth and change. May we humble ourselves before God always, asking Him to forgive our sins and make our hearts and lives anew through His Holy Word and Spirit. May He help us make Him and His Holy Word top priority, so we can grow spiritually and grow in our relationship with Him as we apply it to our daily lives. Thank God that we can focus on Him and everything about Him, for that is what keeps us sane and at peace. May our words and actions always be a reflection of Him and His Holy Word and Spirit and will.
May He help us to always walk in His grace and Holy Spirit, not by our own measure. May He give us the humble humility to know that our freedom and eternal salvation is found only in Him, so that His grace may sustain us, and we may never lose sight of His love and light and mercy. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for calling us to Him and to serve Him. May He equip us to do all that He has called us to do so that as He works through us, He may use us to produce fruit, to reach others, and to encourage all brothers and sisters in Christ. May He work all of these things in us and through us for His Kingdom and His glory. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for all His creation, for His miraculous ways and for everything He does and has done for us! Keep the faith and keep moving forward in your walk with Jesus! He loves us and He knows what is best for us. Seek, follow and trust in Him - Always!
Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Word and for sending His Holy Spirit so that we might have His grace, not only to awaken us and transform our hearts in our spiritual rebirth and guarantee our eternity with Him, but to also call upon Him whenever we are in need. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for all the reminders of His love and mercy and faithfulness within His Holy Word. He is bigger than any challenge or circumstance in our lives. Knowing this within our minds and our hearts, nothing can deter our faith in Him and His Truth. May we all accept Him and His eternal gift of salvation and ask that He would transform our hearts and lives according to His will and ways. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Spirit who saves, seals and leads us. May we always thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His almighty power and saving grace. For He is our strength, and He alone is able to save us, forgive our sins and gift us eternal salvation and entry into His Kingdom of Heaven.
May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world daily. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Holy Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful LORD, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!
Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Eternal Embrace: A Tribute to My Beloved Father”
In the realm of love and memories, I find solace and pain,
For my father, a great man, in my heart, forever shall reign.
He was a pillar of strength, a guiding light so bright,
But fate had its own plans, casting shadows on his life.
Through the years, he battled, with every ounce of his being,
Heart attacks and strokes, his resilience ever freeing.
His voice was stolen, and his body weakened by strife,
Leaving him paralyzed, robbed of his vibrant life.
Yesterday, on this somber day, he departed from this earth,
Leaving behind an ache, a void from his life’s precious worth.
They say his suffering has ceased, finding solace up above,
Little did I know, my anguish would now begin, for my father beloved.
I thought I was prepared, for the inevitable farewell,
But the depth of this loss, only time could truly tell.
Regrets haunt my thoughts, for the things left undone,
I wish I had done more, to show him he was my radiant sun.
Life's barriers held us back, with limited options in our grasp,
But the love we shared, forever in my heart will clasp.
Oh, dear father, I miss you, the pain, it pierces deep,
My apologies for falling short, for moments I couldn't keep.
Though, I thank the Lord above, for taking you to eternal peace,
Yet, anguish consumes me, as grief refuses to cease.
I have never felt such pain in my tears, as they fall for his loss,
An ache so deep, my soul cries out, for this immeasurable cost.
You were a father, unmatched, your love knew no end,
In every treasured memory, your spirit I'll forever defend.
Through tears and laughter, hand in hand we transcended,
My dear dad, eternally cherished, our bond, gentle and splendid.
In the tapestry of my life, your presence still shines through,
Your love, your laughter, all the lessons that I drew.
Though tears may stain my cheeks, my love remains steadfast,
In the chambers of my heart, our bond forever shall last.
Farewell, my beloved father, in this ode, I pour my soul,
Your memory, a guiding light, as the years continue to roll.
Rest in peace, dear dad, your legacy forever near,
For in my heart, your love will always persevere.
Take care, dear father, in the realm beyond this land,
You were the embodiment of love, the gentlest guiding hand.
For my shortcomings, I seek forgiveness and plea,
Know you're deeply loved, missed, and cherished eternally.
I love you, dad, beyond the confines of space and time,
You will forever remain in my heart, a love sublime.
Until we meet again, in that realm of eternal embrace,
Rest well, my dearest father, in God's loving grace.
[21st May, 2023] – The day that inflicted the deepest pain, An anguish that forever shall remain.
#EternalEmbrace#TributetoMyFather#LoveUnending#GentleGuidingHand#CherishedMemories#LegacyOfLove#UnbreakableBond#HeartfeltRemembrance#InMemoryOf#ForeverMissed#PoeticTribute#LoveTranscendsTime#FathersLove#InfiniteLove#RememberingDad#EmotionalJourney#ForeverInMyHeart#BelovedFather#EmbracingMemories#UnforgettableLove#GriefJourney#HonoringMyFather#TearsOfLove#EmbracingLoss
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thanks for the tag, @4typercent ! 😁
Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics, then tag ten people! If you’ve written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.
I haven’t done much writing lately and no longer write for one of the fandoms in my most recent ten, so here’s my most recent six!
~*~
Imparting (The Untamed/CQL)
“Jiujiu!”
“Stop shouting. And when did you abandon proper manners? Didn’t I teach you better than that?”
Jin Ling skidded to a halt next to where Jiang Wanyin was standing, hands behind his back and staring out over the river. So much for a bit of peace and quiet after an afternoon spent training a group of enthusiastic yet underwhelming young archers. Leveling his nephew with an unrelentingly stern, disapproving glower, he watched in satisfaction as the latter’s lip curled like he had eaten a bad lotus seed and he brought his arms up in a hurried but appropriate bow.
~*~
Kiss the God (TGCF)
“Why exactly are you coming to me for this instead of your goons?”
“I told you—He Xuan and Yin Yu have their jobs.”
“And you don’t think someone closer to your quarry would be of more use in this situation?”
“You know that useless trash he calls friends wouldn’t help. Not with this.”
“Indeed.”
“So? Will you do it, or do I have to kill you and find someone else?”
“Oh, I’ll do it. But you’ll owe me for this.”
“…Fine.”
~*~
Loyal Companions (TGCF)
Spending multiple lifetimes walking the earth had taught Xie Lian many things about the three realms and all the creatures that inhabited them. Despite that, it never ceased to amaze him that Mu Qing’s eyes somehow managed to remain lodged in his head when he seemed so desperate to roll them right out into the dirt.
~*~
Mixed Company (TGCF)
“He probably forgot to charge his phone. Again,” Feng Xin groused as he followed Mu Qing up the four goddamn flights of stairs leading to Xie Lian’s apartment. The latter huffed, his nose practically and predictably in the air.
“First the communication array, now this… Some things never change.”
~*~
A Promise Kept (TGCF)
“He’s here.”
Perfect, thought Hua Cheng without bothering to reply through his private communication array. It wasn’t as though his informant expected a response anyway. He didn’t warrant one either. There was far more important business to be conducted now that he could be sure that one Crown Prince of Xianle was indeed present at this year’s Mid-Autumn Festival celebration in the heavens.
Hua Cheng wished his god didn’t have to participate in such a farce. The useless trash up there did love dragging all and sundry into their boring, self-aggrandizing formalities, though, didn’t they? How disgusting.
~*~
A Steadfast Retainer (TGCF)
There was laughter and chatter on the Grand Avenue of Divine Might today. It wasn’t the kind or even impartial sort, though. Instead, it was the type that had once and was again pushing Feng Xin to the verge of violence: snickering and ridicule.
Targeted snickering and ridicule that made a long dormant beast within him stir in displeasure.
~*~
So…I actually haven’t recently talked to anybody who writes fics 😅 Uh… @glon-morski , you still out there? And anybody else who sees this can feel free!
3 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Reading for August 8th
Psalm 63
This short Psalm of David has a very big word. Huge, really. So small to read but enormous to get your heart and mind around. This diminutive-yet-enormous word is found in verse 3 . . .
“Because your LOVE is better than life.”
Love.
Translated here as “love” but as with many words in the ancient Hebrew and Greek languages, English prose falls far short of the breadth and depth of what was meant. The Hebrew word is “chesed.” Now don’t read this as a “ch” as in “ch”urch but rather imagine you are saying the “ch” like an “h” only you have a big wad of spit stuck way back in your throat, and while you’re at it, accent the first syllable. That’s it. Now you’ve got it.
Myles Coverdale, a 16th-century English bible translator for Henry VIII, struggled with this word, so much so that he invented the word “loving-kindness” to more fully describe what it means. Even still, Myles’ creative effort falls far short. An accurate translation of chesed defies a simple word or concocted compound word. It’s just too big.
Chesed occurs 246 times throughout the Old Testament and 128 times in the Psalms. Chesed has been translated loving-kindness, kindness, mercy, steadfast love, covenant loyalty, grace, goodness, favor, unfailing love, faithful love, sure blessing, and many others. Which is correct? I believe all of them describe a sliver–they are not wrong, just incomplete. And yet even these translators’ collective efforts are still incomplete. We’re not big enough to grasp it.
While chesed is sometimes used in the Bible to describe human relationships and interactions (e.g. Boaz’s relationship towards Ruth), the most profound use of the word in the Hebrew Bible lies in the application of the word as a descriptor of God’s interaction towards His people. Chesed is, at its core, a covenantal construct that encompasses the full breath, depth, force and intensity of God’s power, love, provision, and mercy that He brings to bear on an woefully undeserving People. And even this description is lacking. His chesed for us is just that big and to the degree His chesed is enormous, we are, to an equal degree, undeserving. The chasm is immense and yet God’s chesed still bridges the gap.
Thank you God for your chesed for me. I certainly don’t deserve it.
“[But l show] love (chesed) to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments.” Exodus 20:6
“Because your lovingkindness (chesed) is better than life.” Psalm 63:3
“Surely goodness and mercy (chesed) shall follow me all the days of my life.” Psalm 23:6
“Oh give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; for His steadfast love (chesed) endures forever!” 1 Chronicles 16:34
“The steadfast love (chesed) of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are every morning; great is Your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23
#bible#biblestudy devotional#devotion oldtestament christian#christianity walkthroughtheword godisgood#blog#christianblog#faith#scripture#dailydevotional#dailybible#christchurchig#revshanebishop#discipleship#jesus#jesuschrist#psalm#god#holy#blessed#pray#love
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
I do kind wanna know how Estelle and Caeneus interact though, what are your thoughts on their dynamic?
Oh! I can answer this! It may be a bit long though, I’m sorry in advance! I like to ramble a lot.
Firstly, I’d like to say that Estelle is deeply involved with Kirschtaria in that they were really close childhood friends, so Caeneus, who has seen Kirschtaria’s memories (according to From Lostbelt Cae chapter at least) - would know Estelle from that. But he’d know her from Kirschtaria’s perspective. He thinks his loser (affectionate) Master is stupid in an almost-admirable way for being able to turn his back on those fond memories but in a “if you even dare consider going back to that woman, I’ll kill you” type of way. Cae knew that Kirschtaria wouldn’t be able to hurt his dearest friend like that, but they had a goal and Cae needed Kirsch to remain steadfast. It was for his revenge too, after all. Your love or your dream? He made sure his Master knew the consequences of the wrong choice.
Up until Atlantis, Caeneus taunted Estelle to no end, laughing in her face and almost relishing in her misery, because it was absolute repulsive how Estelle was so obsessed. Especially when he realized she would do anything to get what she wants, and is just as pathetic and cruel as the gods who lorded over humanity, the gods of Olympus themselves. For many reasons. Caeneus can’t believe the one he sees in Kirsch’s memories/the woman he spoke about. Because if so, how blind was Kirschtaria Wodime to not see how inhuman she is?
And then Olympus happens, and Estelle disregards him because she’s so single-minded that she just blasts through enemies and allies alike. This is basically where Caeneus’s annoyance with her peaks, but at the same time he is thrilled at the destruction she’s leaving behind in pursuit of her so-called beloved. They did team up in many fights but also clashed a lot because they got in each other’s way, but never outright harming each other. At this point, Estelle wasn’t thinking straight because uhhhh Kirschtaria confrontation in Atlantis went very bad for her. Simply put, she arrives to the conclusion Kirsch is being brainwashed so Olympus was a speedrun for her to save him. Oof.
The final battle between both, after Kirschtaria dies, however, was the most violent. Estelle was absolutely livid because she thought: why was it not me who was by his side and vented that frustration in that fight. Her rage, her despair, her anguish, and her belief that a world without Kirschtaria should cease to exist - Caeneus met her head on because he has his own beliefs to stand for, he has Kirschtaria’s beliefs to fight for. What better than to fight to the death with the one Kirschtaria adored the most, the only other person who understood him? So they put everything in that fight and Caeneus disappears, but not after hearing Estelle’s final words:
“Thank you for being there for him.”
Caeneus only laughed at that. He lost, yeah, but the one left to pick up the pieces is the woman drenched in tears and blood. She’s stupid. Just like his Master. But this is fine, a suitable (albeit frustrating) conclusion. Meanwhile, Estelle was grateful that Caeneus was there for Kirschtaria and took comfort in knowing he never bore his burdens alone. She wouldn’t know what he’d gone through, but she’s somewhat relieved knowing he trusted someone enough to rely on them, no matter how hurt she is it that it wasn’t her.
When Cae gets resummoned in Chaldea, I like to think they have this unspoken bond that stemmed from being connected to Kirschtaria. Estelle wouldn’t be ready to ask Caeneus what happened but Cae also wouldn’t tell her a single thing. She doesn’t need to know that he saw Kirschtaria’s withered body falling apart on itself, or the fact he planned to die as the last human, or the way Kirschtaria yearned to save the world with his friends until the very end. Caeneus has too much respect for his Master for that, and it’s the least he can do. But Estelle does fall apart after Olympus and that’s a whole other mess so... ;w;
TLDR: They fight and get mad at each other but they become really good friends in the end :’)
5 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
reaonion
たまにねぎ
stuffandthingsilikeverymuch
In progress
tsuin
Give Me Back My Soul!
purpledragon-1995
Some Kind of Disater
