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flowerandblood · 13 days

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (26)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex, incest, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Jace remembered perfectly the day his little sister was born. Laenor had led him into his mother's chamber that day, holding his hand, saying that she was very tired and they couldn't spend much time with her − he had insisted on seeing her because he was delighted to finally have a sibling, a brother to play with and be friends with.

His mother, the future queen, smiled softly at the sight of him, her white hair loose and in disarray, her face red from sweat and exertion.

She held out her hand to him and he hugged her, peering curiously at the infant she held clutched to her chest.

"He's so tiny." He said in disbelief, brushing the baby's finger with his own − he smiled when he saw the baby's hand clench into a small fist with its quiet purr.

"She. You have a little sister." He heard his mother's amused voice; he furrowed his brow at her words and rose, angry and disappointed.

"− wait, comrade −" Laenor called out after him, but he refused to look at her.

She was a disappointment to him.

For the first few months, he had pretended not to hear her cries or squeals from their mother's chamber − even though Rheanyra had spoken to him and encouraged him to meet her, he had refused to do so, recognising that no little girl interested him.

"It was supposed to be a boy." He muttered regretfully while playing with his large, wooden, black dragon, pretending that the stacks of books were the great hills over which he flew on Balerion. His mother smiled at his words and combed her hand through his dark curls.

"That is what the gods have decided. She may be your future wife."

Jace put down his toy, looking at her in surprise, not understanding what she meant.

"Am I going to have to kiss her?" He asked in disgust, recalling the stories Laenor sometimes read to him before bed, in which great knights freed beautiful women from the paws of monsters, only to fall in love with them later and be bestowed a kiss by them.

His mother smiled involuntarily.

"Don't think about such things until you're a grown man. No kissing for now." She giggled, pinching his cheek. He smiled lazily seeing her warm expression, the motherly love that beat from her.

That night he went to the chamber where she slept for the first time; he leaned over the cradle, glancing at her plump little figure wrapped in a white robe and a small headpiece. Her eyes opened suddenly and he was terrified that she would burst into tears − she, however, merely clutched her small feet and began to rock from side to side, looking at him curiously.

He smiled involuntarily at this sight and tickled her belly with his finger. Her squeal and loud giggle answered him, her eyes lit up in joy, her little body all the way up in euphoria. He laughed seeing this, repeating his gesture, thinking she was like a small animal, a puppy or a kitten.

He decided that at the end of the day she wasn't so bad and stopped pretending she didn't exist.

Until Luke was born he had treated her as if she were a boy, driving their mother to despair every time they both returned sodden with mud and sand after another battle with Aegon and Aemond.

He had always felt that his uncles disliked him, and even though they were of a similar age to him, he did not feel comfortable in their company − nor could he hide his jealousy at the sight of their snow-white hair, proof of who they were.

Looking at his father and mother, he could not comprehend why his hair was not that shade.

Rhaenyra explained to him that it was surely because of the Baratheon blood that also flowed through their veins, and although he was disappointed, the sight that he was not the only one, that his sister and Luke looked similar to him, comforted him.

The first time Aegon laughed sincerely at what he said occurred when he called his sister a hamster. The comparison came to his mind when she took air in her mouth and furrowed her brow − he uttered it thoughtlessly, and his uncle burst out laughing and patted him on the back.

"− gods, you're right − and those big eyes of hers −" He sneered, and although he saw that his sister lowered her gaze, embarrassed, he continued, eager to hear more words of praise from his lips.

"− she has just as much sense too −" He added, seeing his uncle throw him an amused, mocking look suggesting that he agreed with him.

He felt a squeeze in his heart when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that his sister had turned and walked away, passing through the cloisters towards their quarters without even giving him another glance.

He turned around and noticed to his surprise that he was not the only person to notice her leaving − his other uncle, Aemond, led her away with his eyes and then threw him a look full of despise, from which he felt discomfort.

He pressed his lips together at the thought that he was the heir to the throne and, unlike him, had his own dragon.

Who was he to look down on him with such superiority?

He decided to remind him of that and share that thought with his brother.

Aegon's involvement in their little joke surprised even him − his uncle thought it was an excellent idea. He argued that his younger brother was too sullen and serious for his age, that he was sapient and could use a little lesson.

As he listened to Aegon convince him that they had found a dragon for him, as he saw the hint of hope and the shy, embarrassed smile of excitement on his uncle's face, he felt for a moment that perhaps they should not do this.

However, it was too late to retreat − Luke ran deeper into the cave, and came out a moment later, leading by a rope a large pig to which they had attached self-made wooden wings early on.

"Behold! The Pink Dread!"

He saw that his uncle froze and turned pale as they burst out laughing, swallowing this humiliation with difficulty − his eyes glazed over and reddened, his gaze again blank and distant.

He knew they had broken him.

That same day he mentioned it to his sister, and her reaction angered him.

"You are cruel." She said resentfully.

Which side was she on?

"He's forever looking down on us because he has white hair. He's constantly making excuses and bragging about what he's read in those silly dusty books of his." He snorted, playing between his fingers with the gold coin their grandfather had brought him from another of his trips overseas.

He blinked when his sister simply rose from her seat and walked out, leaving him in a state of shock and displeasure − he decided, however, that these were just normal female emotions and would surely pass her until supper.

He loved his father, but he also greatly valued and respected Ser Harwin Strong. He was a stocky, tall, handsome man who could fight very well. He often spoke to him or helped him practice by sharing stories of his duels in tournaments and hunts.

He thought then that he would like to be like him one day.

He knew that he was a close confidant of his mother and often saw them together, however, his father seemed not to mind, so he considered this condition perfectly normal and did not bother.

After a few weeks, the will of their King fell upon them like a bolt from the heavens, and their mother informed them of it during one of their suppers together.

"− your grandfather and our King has decided today that, to strengthen our lineage, we will betroth your sister to your uncle, Prince Aemond − let us raise our cups for this −" She said, glancing towards her daughter, his sister smiling broadly at her words, happy.

What?

"− what do you mean? − why? −" He asked, feeling discomfort in his stomach and a cold sweat on his back.

They wanted to gift him his sister as a consolation because he didn't have a dragon of his own?

"− your grandfather wants peace to reign in the kingdom after his death − such a marriage in his eyes will strengthen our family and our bonds between each other − of course, the marriage will only happen when your sister is of the right age −" She said calmly, looking at her daughter with tenderness, taking an unruly strand of her dark hair from her face.

"− did you agree? −" He asked his little sister in disbelief, and she nodded quickly, as if it was the happiest day of her life.

"− yes − I'm very pleased − I'm fond of our uncle −" She said quickly, putting a piece of roast on her plate, describing how worried she was that she would have to marry someone much older than herself.

He stared blankly ahead, clenching his hands into fists, bitter and disappointed.

Had she really never considered him as her husband?

After all, he was her elder brother; in their lineage such marriages were obvious.

He dared not, however, defy the will of the King himself.

His resentment towards his uncle increased with each passing week seeing that, against his wishes, he was not being harsh and unpleasant to his sister − on the contrary, he seemed to have softened in her company, his face, though still pathetically proud, also expressing curiosity and affection.

He felt rage in his heart at the thought that they could really have wished to bring about this marriage.

However, the cup of bitterness overflowed the moment he saw his sister kiss him.

They were both too certain that no one could see them − he watched them from the corridor through a window overlooking the library.

His sister was standing by the bookcase, saying something to him, and he stood up and walked lazily over to her. He rose on his tiptoes and apparently reached for a book that stood too high for her. She smiled broadly as he handed it to her, her hand traveling to his shoulder.

He swallowed hard as her lips pressed against his, and as soon as she pulled away, her uncle grasped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her again, deeper and longer.

He fled to his chamber and burst into tears with rage, dropping all the objects standing on his table, disappointed and humiliated that although he was to become King in the future, someone else was taking away something that in his mind was his right.

He never wondered what kind of love he had bestowed upon her and whether it was the form of affection that usually bound married couples; he knew that he would care for her and be good to her and that was enough for him.

She was his sister and he would never hurt her.

She, however, looked only to her uncle and it was to him that she gave her heart and mind.

He didn't know what he felt when Luke slashed his face that night when their uncle stole Vhagar − horror, shame, satisfaction and relief all mingled in his mind into one.

On the one hand, he was overjoyed that he had taken back what in his mind should have been his, on the other he was embarrassed and distraught at the confirmation of his fears that had long smouldered in his mind.

It was Harwin Strong who was their father.

To his seed he owed his dark curls.

He was a bastard.

He tried to turn his thoughts away from considering what this meant for them, focusing on the fact that his sister would surely no longer want her uncle for a husband, and their paths would part.

This is exactly what happened.

Still, what he had planned did not happen, and his mother decided to change her plan and marry her off to their cousin, Lord Arryn's son, to strengthen her support in the North of the kingdom. Again, he felt a wave of disappointment, however, this time he was not so jealous − he knew that she had no love for their cousin and that he was certainly no threat to her.

"What's my little sister doing?" He asked with amusement, startling her completely, sitting bent over her desk − she quickly grabbed the parchment she had just been writing something on and tucked it under the table, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Are you writing a letter to someone?" He sneered, raising an eyebrow, standing over her with a smile. She swallowed hard and looked down, thoughtful.

"I write poetry. But I don't want anyone to read it." She muttered, and he sighed quietly and nodded, acknowledging that he wasn't going to force her to do anything.

"Would you like to go for a walk along the beach? It's beautiful weather." He encouraged her; she, however, shook her head, no longer bestowing a single glance on him.

"No, forgive me. I'm tired."

He pressed his lips together at her rejection, which he had faced again and again since they had moved to Dragonstone.

Even though he tried to get close to her, to understand her and comfort her, she still didn't want him.

He was ashamed to speak of his feelings with his mother or stepfather, much less Luke, however, to his surprise, his closest confidant turned out to be Baela.

"I don't understand her. It seems to me that she still misses him, even though he has certainly forgotten her by now. I have heard that he is a cold, vain, self-obsessed man. He's always been that way, treating her only as an object, a consolation prize. Now that he has a dragon he doesn't need her." He said angrily − his cousin sighed heavily at his words, looking at him with understanding.

"When people part in anger and don't close a chapter, it's hard for them to move on. Perhaps she knew him in a way that is unknown to us. He's always been withdrawn into himself." She muttered disapprovingly, fiddling with the wine cup in her hand, gazing thoughtfully into the blazing fire.

He smiled at the thought that he was certain she recalled the impetuosity with which her uncle had punched her in the face with his fist that night when he lost an eye. Baela looked at him, raising her eyebrows.

"What's that look?" She asked and kicked him under the table with her foot. He giggled at her reaction and shook his head, lowering his gaze to her fingers.

"I would have been better for her. I would have really cared for her. Maybe I wouldn't have given her everything she needed, but at least with me she would have been safe." He said with a tiredness from which his companion sighed heavily. He lifted his gaze to her as her hand grasped his and squeezed it.

"I know." She replied softly.

He swallowed hard, feeling a pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen as he saw her soft, misty gaze, feeling her warm thumb stroke his palm. He grunted as he felt his manhood pulsate in his breeches at the thought that, indeed, his cousin was a very fine woman.

He had always liked her sharp tongue and confidence.

"Have you ever lain in bed with a woman?" She asked him suddenly, and he drew in the air loudly, shocked, feeling that his cheeks had certainly turned red with shame.

He didn't know what to answer.

He didn't want to humiliate himself with words that he had absolutely no experience in these matters knowing that she had a more liberated approach to these affairs.

Daemon, as her father, had expressed no dissent, so who was he to lecture her?

She sighed quietly, seeing his reaction, or rather lack thereof, and rose from her seat, turning her back to him, gripping the ties of her bodice with her hands.

"I need you to help me."

Baela was a calm and patient teacher − it seemed to him that she took great satisfaction in his lack of understanding of what she was actually doing to him as she sank down on his swollen manhood again and again with a moan of delight − her brown naked skin glistened wonderfully in the light of the blazing fire, her white curls falling over her shoulders in disarray, her full lips parted in obvious desire from which he felt his fulfilment approaching embarrassingly fast.

She made sure he didn't fill her with his seed, letting him instead come down on her abdomen with his low moan of pleasure, his length pulsating and twitching in her hand for a while longer. He licked his lower lip dry with emotion, looking at her in disbelief, a soft, shy smile on her face.

"− you're beautiful −" He whispered, and she giggled under her breath and kissed him in a way from which he felt hot in his heart.

She made him forget, at least for a moment, what was happening around them, finding in her both friend and lover, the confidante of all his secrets.

She was not jealous of his sister − on the contrary, he had the impression that she understood the source of his anger and disappointment, herself having no intention of explaining to him what she was doing and with whom.

It seemed to him that their relationship and its freedom suited them both.

Of course, they both knew that in the end they would experience a marriage that would inevitably be purely political, and they understood what that entailed.

Then their grandfather was injured on one of his expeditions, and Vaemond Velaryon challenged his younger brother's rights to the throne of Driftmark.

Knowing the truth about his parentage and at the same time refusing to accept it, he became enraged, sad and depressed at the same time − Baela's words of comfort that they would find a solution and not allow themselves to be intimidated did not reassure him.

Once again, his uncle and his family were trying to take their inheritance from them.

His return to King's Landing was a shock to him; to his disappointment, he felt like an intruder there, and it seemed to him that was exactly how he was perceived by everyone.

He felt a drop of cold sweat run down his neck, his stomach twisting with discomfort when he saw his uncle in the distance, wielding his sword as if it weighed nothing, easily defeating Criston Cole, pressing its blade against his neck.

He was tall, muscular, his long white hair, proof that he was in fact a Targaryen partly tied at the back of his head with a black ribbon, his jaw long and sharply defined, his gaze wild and cold, terrifying.

He smiled mockingly at the sight of them, playing with the hilt of his sword between his fingers as if he wanted to devour them.

He felt ashamed at the thought that he was terrified.

And then his uncle spotted their sister in the distance − his heart beat harder at the sight of their expressions.

It seemed to him that this reunion years later had caused them pain, as they both froze, breathing heavily, looking at each other as if there was no one else around.

His uncle hummed under his breath and turned away, nodding at Ser Criston, taking another swing with his sword.

Even though he hadn't cared what happened to her for so many years, even though he had humiliated her at supper by calling her Lady Strong, she had confessed in front of everyone that her place was with him.

He looked at her in disbelief, wondering what she was doing, why she had stooped to courting him when it was obvious that her uncle had neither respect nor affection for her.

After a moment, he heard his uncle's cold, trembling, deep voice.

"So it is decided, father. We will marry."

"How could our mother agree to this? How could she let her stay there?" He asked furiously, circling around his chamber in Dragonstone; Baela sighed heavily, turning her head away. She looked at him finally, hesitation in her gaze.

"I didn't tell you because I knew it would only enrage you and you wouldn't leave her alone." She said tiredly − he halted in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

"You didn't tell me about what?" He asked dryly, frustrated and concerned.

Baela let out a loud breath, shaking her head. They were now betrothed, and although he thought they both seemed to have accepted their families' decisions with relief, he couldn't rejoice.

"My father told me that she had been sending him letters all these years. That the same night we arrived in the Red Keep she spent the night in his chamber."

He stared at her dully, feeling that it made him sick to his stomach, as if he were about to vomit, his face taking on an expression of disgust.

So she didn't write any poetry then, he thought with regret and pain.

"− how could she do this − expose our mother to humiliation and gossip −"

"Jace. She never stopped loving him. I think she's naive too, but you'd have to be blind not to see that she never really accepted it all. I don't know what I think about it myself." She admitted, running her hand over her face.

"You don't know what you think about it? I'll tell you. Our uncle will play with her and take advantage of her, and then he will put her up to ridicule and hand her over to us. He won't marry her." He growled angrily, burying his face in his hands, wondering how she could be so foolish, how she could believe that he had sincere intentions about her.

"The matter of succession is on a knife-edge. Perhaps our grandfather is right? A union between our mother and the Queen could really ease the situation." She muttered, clearly looking for anything comforting in the situation, which he completely failed to understand.

Had everyone around him lost their minds?

"My uncle who thinks we are bastards is supposed to alleviate the situation? He will never agree to let me sit on the throne and I am supposed to give him my sister?" He asked in disbelief; Baela tightened her lips at his words, frustrated.

"You speak of her as if she were an object. It's always been that way."

He felt an unpleasant shiver run down his spine at her words, every muscle in his body tensing like a string.

"What do you mean?" He asked coolly.

Baela sighed heavily, clearly trying not to explode and form her thoughts so as to be honest but not cruel.

"You think she was born to fulfil your whims? That the fact that you are her eldest brother gives you precedence to lie in bed with her?"

He felt himself blush with shame at her question, shocked.

Discomfort and arousal surged through his lower abdomen at the thought.

"Do you think that's what I mean? I'm just trying to…"

"Yes, Jace. I've never witnessed you ask her how she feels, what she needs. I am fond of you, but you are a selfish boy, not a man."

He felt ashamed at the thought as tears gathered under his eyelids at her words, a terrible, cold shudder shook his body, his heart began to pound like mad.

You are a selfish boy, not a man.

Her words so offended him that he stopped speaking to her despite her pleas, and then the thing he feared most happened.

The King was dead, Aegon had stolen her mother's throne and his uncle had imprisoned his sister.

They had made a mockery of them.

He had been right all along, but no one listened to him.

"Forgive me, Jace." Baela muttered, placing her hand on his shoulder. She knelt beside him, sighing heavily, laying her head on his thigh, and he involuntarily stroked her hair, feeling superiority, feeling strength.

He was going to fight for his mother's crown and bring his sister home.

In order to do so, at the behest of their mother, he flew to Winterfell to ask Cregan Stark for his support in this cause, reminding him of the oath his father had taken before her.

The North seemed to him a beautiful and wild place, so far from what he knew − the snow-covered hills, the austere fortresses of dark stone, the robes that looked only grey, black or brown around him gave him a sense of modesty and space.

Lord Stark's nature appeared to be similar to his, and the few days he had spent in his company hunting and riding horses had actually made him feel good − he felt like someone worthy with him, a true heir to the throne, not a bastard.

It was this feeling that, seeing the young Lady Snow from afar, he allowed himself to be enchanted by her charms and lay in bed with her.

Like a real man.

When he arrived back in Dragonstone he learned that Luke had just returned from Storm's End and that he had seen their sister.

"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." Growled Daemon, shocked and horrified by his naivety, burying his face in his hands, unable to look at him.

"Daemon." Their mother rebuked him, all pale, her hand clenched on her womb. "What happened next?"

"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." His brother muttered, and he felt his heart stop, he and Baela looked at each other quickly.

She had tried to take her own life.

Because of this bastard, his sister could be dead.

His hands clenched into fists at that thought.

"And then?" Pressed Daemon in an impatient voice.

"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." He mumbled and he slammed his fist on the table, feeling fury and rage boiling up inside him.

"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He growled red with anger − Daemon threw him a single, drawn-out look.

"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He continued, pretending not to have heard his outburst.

"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." Luke said. Daemon sighed heavily and leaned over, placing his hands on the top of the stone table, thoughtful.

"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."

Baela followed him into his chamber in an attempt to calm him down.

"How can he want to pact with that fucking traitor? His brother stole my mother and his wife's throne!" He shouted in her face − his betrothed dropped her hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"Since he let them meet, maybe there is something to it. My father knows what he's doing, I trust him. I believe he will bring her home."

"You're naive. You always have been."

"And you're vain. You always have been."

He pressed his lips together at her words, feeling his heart pounding like mad, feeling like something was about to explode inside him.

"I met a woman in Winterfell who I took to my bed." He muttered finally, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Part of him wanted to hurt her, and part of him wanted to be honest with her.

That was what they had promised each other.

Baela laughed at his words in disbelief and shook her head − he had a feeling he saw a shadow of regret in her gaze, but he wasn't sure if it was because of his confession or because she understood why he said it now.

"If you wish, I'll relate to you how I spent my time in your absence, but I'm not sure you'll be able to look into this guard's face afterwards." She sneered, lifting her chin high, looking at him defiantly. He felt a wave of hot shame and anger surge through his body.

"After we're married…are you going to continue this?" He asked uncertainly and she cocked her head to the side.

"If you are not faithful to me, I will not remain faithful to you. You are dear to me, but don't think I will cry for you. Certainly not like your sister cried for her uncle. Part of me has always envied her that she experienced such a deep feeling in her life even if it burned her from the inside for so many years." She said with a kind of regret from which he felt a squeeze in his stomach, but he answered nothing to her words.

He knew that they did not love each other.

They were close and felt comfortable together, but they weren't mad about each other.

He believed it just had to be this way.

He waited impatiently along with his mother and the others gathered for Daemon to return from his meeting with their uncle, simultaneously terrified and angry that they were speaking with traitors instead of fighting.

When they heard the squeal of Caraxes in the distance his mother stood up, pale, holding her hand on her womb again, as if remembering the time when she had carried her only daughter under her heart.

His other sister had died before she was even truly born.

When Daemon stepped into the main hall everyone was already waiting for him; he sighed heavily, placing his Dark Sister on the table top, folding his hands in front of him, straightening.

"Your daughter married her uncle of her own free will. My nephew has conveyed to me that his brother-cunt will relinquish the throne he stole from you if it is your daughter's children and his who become heirs to the throne or, in the event they do not conceive a son, ours − Viserys and Aegon. He demands the exclusion of Jace, Luke and Joffrey from the succession." He said dispassionately. He looked at his mother seeing that she had run out of words.

"− mother − this is −"

"− leave us − all of you −" She ordered.

"− mother − this is my inheritance − mine −" He began, but felt Baela's grip on his arm.

"− Jace − that's enough −"

He sat in his chamber thinking only of the fact that his mother was just contemplating whether or not to agree to deprive him of his inheritance, to acknowledge that he was her bastard despite the fact that he was her firstborn son, despite the fact that Laenor Velaryon had acknowledged him as his heir.

"− Jace −" Baela muttered, seeing his condition.

"− leave −" He said. He heard her sigh heavily as she approached him with a rustle of her gown, kneeling at his feet.

"− Jace − I'm on your side − I always have been − don't you see me as your companion? − your friend? − your lover? −" She asked with a pained expression that startled him. He lowered his hands and looked at her − his palm rose to her cheek, which he stroked with a tender, slow gesture.

"− you resent me − you don't see me as a man, but as a child −"

"− that is not true −"

"− I don't want your pity −"

"− Jace −"

"− you were right − I don't want to frustrate you and I understand all the accusations about me that you've made − my whole life I've been trying to be someone I'm not −" He finally replied, his betrothed's fingers grasping his hand and squeezing it.

"− that's what I mean − stop pretending − be honest with yourself −"

"− do you want me to be honest? − very well then − my mother has never asked my opinion on any important matters − Daemon treats me as if I am an imbecile and mocks me − I am both a first-born son and a bastard − my uncle wants to deprive me of everything, he wants me to be a nobody and why? − because when I was a child I gave him a pig? − god, I regret it, it was a cruel joke − I regret that he lost an eye, I regret that a dragon didn't hatch from his egg − but even if I had said that, what good would it have done − he would have laughed at me saying I am a weak cunt −" He muttered and burst out sobbing like a small child, hiding his face in his hands. Baela embraced him and cuddled his face into her oil-scented neck, stroking his hair.

"− I am grateful to you − I am grateful to you that you are honest with me − I am grateful to you that you have never lied to me −" She whispered and he wept softly, tightening his hands on the material of her gown feeling that the closeness of her body brought him solace.

"− I am grateful to you too − forgive me for not being what you deserve −" He mumbled, sniffling loudly, trying to calm the convulsions of his body and his ragged breathing.

"− I forgive you − I forgive you and ask for your forgiveness −"

When his mother came to his chamber that evening, he knew what decision she had made even before she opened her mouth.

"− Jace −" She began, and he turned his head away, panting with rage, burning tears of humiliation under his eyelids.

"− after all this − after all you've sacrificed − are you going to let them win? −"

"− how would I be a just Queen if I thought only of myself instead of the good of the kingdom? − any other solution will mean war with our own kin − is there anything else more displeasing to the gods? −" She muttered in a breaking voice in which he could clearly hear that she herself was suffering immensely.

"− you let them dictate their terms −" He said in disbelief, looking at her at last. His mother pressed her lips together at his question.

"− no − I intend to impose my own demands on them – none of them will be allowed to sit on the throne − none of them will wear the crown − they will be rulers-regents until their son, the rightful heir, is born −" She replied, forcing herself to be calm.

"− and if no son is born to them? − will you exclude me from the succession then? − your first-born son? −" He mumbled in pain, hitting his chest with his palm. Rhaenyra drew in air loudly, her eyes red from tears of pain and grief.

"− it's my fault − not yours − me and Laenor really tried, but −"

"− I don't want to hear it − I won't listen to it − why did you let me come into the world? −"

"− Jace −" She mumbled − he heard the rustling of her gown as she took a step towards him, but he held up his hand showing that he didn't want her to come near him.

"− I will leave Dragonstone to you − it belongs to me and I can give it to whomever I wish − no one will challenge your rights in this case, you will finally be able to live the life you deserve −"

"− I was meant to be King −" He hissed, and she swallowed hard.

"− as was I − but perhaps we are not meant to be − pride steps before a fall −" She said drily, her chin lifted high.

"− what does Daemon have to say in the matter? −" He asked lowly.

"− he is furious, but he will do as I command − just as you −"

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wikitpowers · 1 month

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sorry but the fact that kitty will actually kiss in twp is blowing my mind bc like - where will it happen? what will their conversation be like beforehand? how will it end? angsty, sweet? who will initiate it? who's pov will we get? like i'm losing my marbles here

#i really really REALLY want it in both povs #like we got jace's pov of clace's kiss but at the end of the book!!!#it would be so cool if we got that with kitty as well #bc like im DESPERATE to see both #but in the actual book... i wanna see ty...#i wanna see this boy lose his MIND at our wonderful kit #it will be so romantic and legendary and will literally be engraved in my mind forever and ever #ty blackthorn #kit herondale #kit x ty #kitty #the wicked powers #twp #tsc

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petratherrock · 4 months

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Maybe it's misogyny idk but I really really wish Meyers would write the rest of the series in Edward pov as in Midnight Sun's sequels but ik she's not writing them because they're so miserable to write or some such 🥲

It's so interesting and fun to read how Edward is dramatic, gentle and caring and also a little stupid wet cat over his love for Bella. This man has been so romance-starved that once he actually fell for someone he's thinking pages of monologues about his catholic guilt of his love for her

He's prowling the stage as he monologues. He's kissing the steps that Bella walks on. He thinks she's more exquisite than Rosalie and Bella is selfless and she's an angel and being with her gives him both euphoria and guilt. He says he can look at her forever, he's been looking at her, and that's all he's ever going to do. He wants to be with her, he doesn't want her to miss being a human.

I love his sense of humor

I think it's also partly my stupid sappy mind enjoying romance from the pov of a man absolutely simping over his lover

Yes it's a little toxic or a lot but why not he's fictional

#i think that sm is mormon idk if they also operate on guilt but #midnight sun #twilight saga #edward cullen #bella swan #stephenie meyer #ah this is why i enjoyed Jace pov from tmi sm or jsut Jace in general this man and Edward can compete on how they'll kiss the floor #their lovers walked on

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souredfigs · 25 days

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A lot of people are fascinated by Harrenhal and its ghosts and I get that but bro WINTERFELL AND THE EGGS IN THE CRYPTS??

Winterfell and how it was constructed in general is so fascinating , like its always described in chapters as a living organism , that deep hot springs run through the castle like blood through a person's body , then there is the weirwood tree and the immense magical power it itself holds as a sort of root of the castle and the point upon which Bran can see through the past , the present and the future .

Then the crypts , the freaking crypts which are larger than Winterfell itself and as you descend into the lower levels they become increasingly dark and old and a giant portion of it which hasn't seen the light of the day in thousands of years is collapsed and totally inaccessible , there are swords of the Kings of Winter which are there in order to keep something contained like the souls of the deceased ,not to mention the fact that Bran and his clique actually took some of them on their way ? The giant spiders and rats the size of dogs old nan talked about and how the crypts go from bottom up , with the recent burials at top and the oldest at the bottom which has kind of never been explained ?

But perhaps the most exciting thing about the crypts is Mushroom's account about Jacaerys Targaryen's Vermax laying a clutch of eggs in the crypts near the supposed hot springs , and the immense significance that has to the story of ice and fire itself

Like the Starks and Targaryens give us many of our main characters in the books , they are the two oldest families in Westeros , so old that their origins are intertwined with legends and myths, and magic is heavily involved in their families . We saw in Hotd the state secret info Viserys gives to Rhaenyra about the Song of ice and fire and Aegons dream about the long night and theres this implication that Torrhen Stark bent the knee becuase Aegon told him about this dream , that to defend the living there must always be a Stark in Winterfell and a Targaryen in the South, becuase winter is coming and without these two houses Westeros and probably the rest of the world are cooked? Then during the reign of Jaehaerys I Queen Alysanne goes to Winterfell and gives support to the nights watch and befriends Alaric Stark .

And then decades later her descendant Jace goes to Winterfell (and as the hotd trailer shows , also goes to the Wall!!!) and he forms such a great bond with Cregan Stark that they make a pact of ice and fire sealed in blood , likely before the weirwood tree in mix of both Valyrian and Northern tradition , with Jace agreeing to marry his firstborn daughter to Cregan's heir , then Jace later dies in the gullet but Cregan honours their pact by carrying out Justice in the hour of the wolf and making sure Jace's little brother ascends the throne .

AND THEN A CENTURY AND A HALF LATER RHAEGAR AND LYANNA GET TOGETHER AND KNOWINGLY OR UNKNOWINGLY FULFILL THAT PACT , AND NED KNOWINGLY OR UNKNOWINGLY HONOURS THIS PACT BY TAKING IN THEIR SON JON SNOW, THE LITERAL EMBODIMENT OF ICE AND FIRE , AND MOST LIKELY THE PRINCE THAT WAS PROMISED TO LEAD THE BATTLE FOR THE DAWN .

AND HOW JON CONSISTENTLY DREAMS ABOUT THE CRYPTS MORE THAN ANY OTHER STARK CHILD? AND HIS MOST LIKELY RESURRECTION IN TWOW WILL HAPPEN IN THE WALL , WHICH, APART FROM THE CRYPTS IS THE MOST MAGICAL PLACE IN THE NORTH IN A WESTEROS WHERE MAGIC HAS AWAKENED WITH WITH A FORCE NOT SEEN SINCE THE DAYS OF OLD VALYRIA ? RIGHT AT THE TIME WHERE THE OTHERS ARE AT THE DOOR ?

DO YOU SEE HOW DEEP THIS SHIT GOES?!

#this is literally the tip of the iceberg theres soooo much #LIKE WTH DAWG #LOSINGD THE MINF #Im so ready to see jace and cregan and brokeback winterfell #and winds of winter and how the crypts will come into play becuase they have a tON of importance in the books #brans pov chapters are going to be so good i just know it #im so ready #house of the dragon #cregan stark #jacaerys targaryen #winterfell crypts #the long night #winds of winter #I fucking love the starks if you couldnt tell #when winds of winter comes out you best believe I will sleep with it under my pillow #like Alexander the Great with his favourite copy of the Iliad #jacegan #hotd season 2 pls do not be bad #im literally yapping im sorry lol

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emilykaldwen · 3 months

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Preview for this week's chapter of The Maiden and the Drowning Boy! We pick up right after last chapter to a different type of family dinner. And also I promise, Abby's POV is back and it's a worthy valentine's day edition ;)

“You never used to be this reckless.”

“Well I also used to have two eyes and we all know how that went,” he snapped back and the footsteps stopped abruptly. His voice went softer. “I apologize, heltar gevie. I do not mean to take my frustrations out on you.”

Footsteps resumed, lighter ones, before the heavier footfalls followed. “Yes, you do,” Helaena said firmly. “You never apologize, and attempting to do so changes nothing.”

“I can do better, Helaena.”

“You can, and so you should, Aemond.” Helaena’s voice was anxious. “But not because you think it will change anything. I meant it. I simply want my brother back, and I know in your heart it is what you want to, whether you admit it or not.”

Aemond made a low sound in the back of his throat and Jace held his breath as his uncle’s shoulder appeared in view. It was by the grace of whatever gods looked over him that his blind eye was to the alcove and so he could not see. He was clad all in black, his straight, silver hair falling just past his shoulders, pulled back from his face with three braids. Around the side, Jace could barely catch the glimpse of blue, but he could see Helaena’s smaller shadow cast on the ground.

His uncle continued down the hall towards the solar, leaving Helaena standing in the patch of torchlight. Her gown was pale blue, with shimmers of silver thread woven through the fabric in the shape of dragons. A wide, silver belt cinched about the waist and the two swathes of blue fabric covered her but left an expanse of pale skin from her sternum to her bared collarbones. The gown had another silver clasp at each shoulder to keep the fabric in place and Jace’s eyes fixated on the dark little moles dotted across the skin she revealed. Her curls hung free around her shoulders and down to her waist, a loose net of winking diamond and pearls covering her hair like a makeshift veil. Starlight in the night.

She blinked and turned her head slightly and Jace swore that their eyes met. Lavender and lavender. Then, Helaena spun on her heel and followed her brother down the hallway.

“I do not wish to be here among all the dramatics,” Baela muttered as the pair of them followed a distance behind Helaena’s drifting blue form. Jace rolled his eyes.

“As if home is any better?” he said rhetorically. In some ways yes, in other ways, there was little escaping his mother and Daemon’s more passionate arguments that would carry across the castle. It got a chuckle from Baela, so Jace considered it a win.

#jacelaena #fic: the maiden and the drowning boy #helaena targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #my fics #I have some larger edits to make in this chapter #but I'm so proud of it #also seriously #Jace is one of my new fave POVs to write #I have claimed him as mine #he thinks Helaena is so pretty #and that's been fun to write #Helaena deserves a “normal” love interest

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darcyolsson · 10 months

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loved your post defending clary but what is your opinion on jace??? i feel like he's equally controversial

you know how sometimes rereading books a few years later changes your opinion on certain characters entirely bc instead of being some older hot brooding hero they're now just some kid in your eyes. that's me with jace right now

in fact you may have asked his at the perfect moment because i had a whole breakdown about this last night in the group chat last night i feel like this text sums it up quite well

he has 2 to 6 parents depending on how you look at it and for at least 17 years none of them ever loved him. he was fully prepared to go back to his cartoonishly evil kidapper dad who physically abused him bc at least there he felt wanted. he just wanted maryse to read him a bedtime story when he was 10 like she did for alec and isabelle. she never did. he just wants to be loved so so desperately. he can be genuinely hilarious and charming but now i'm looking back on it, it mostly reads like that too is just a way he taught himself to get the attention he wants so desperately. it's implied that he's been suicidal/has engaged in acts of self-harm since he arrived with the lightwoods when he was literally 10.

i think most people (me included!!) just remember him as a sarcastic rude asshole which to be fair is very much who he is HOWEVER every single time we get jace pov he reveals another 5 reasons why he's actually kind of valid in his assholery. this boy is playing DSM-5 bingo and babes his card is FULL and it's literally so upsetting to read. he's just a very sad kid and i'm literally on my way to nyc adoption papers in hand

#absolutely 100% forgot all of this btw. i was literally not prepared. every jace pov makes me want to CRY #i think most ppl me included just remember him as being a dick. which is fair bc he is. but also HE'S JUST A KID!!!!#HE'S JUST BABY !!! i'm pro calling him out on his bullshit because he's very annoying sometimes but HES JUST BABY #when he mentioned he could hear maryse sing to alec and izzy through the walls that broke me #'you were never afraid of the dark' 'what 10 year old isn't afraid of the dark' MARYSE WHEN I FIND YOU #(btw parents = the lightwoods (+ the herondales and valentine)#vic reads tmi #tmi

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tscclace · 1 year

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He straightened up. “You’d better get out of here, if you know what’s good for you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Clary said. “If I do, you’ll kill him.” She pointed at the boy with the blue hair.

“That’s true,” admitted Jace, twirling the knife between his fingers. “What do you care if I kill him or not?”

“Be-because—” Clary spluttered. “You can’t just go around killing people.”

“You’re right,” said Jace. “You can’t go around killing people.” He pointed at the boy with blue hair, whose eyes were slitted. Clary wondered if he’d fainted. “That’s not a person, little girl. It may look like a person and talk like a person and maybe even bleed like a person. But it’s a monster.”

“Jace,” said Isabelle warningly. “That’s enough.”

City of Bones

“Knock her out,” Alec muttered, under his breath. “Just . . . clonk her on the head with something.”

“Just go,” Jace said to the girl. “Get out of here, if you know what’s good for you.” But she only planted her feet harder. He could see the look in her eyes, like exclamation points: No! No!

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “If I do, you’ll kill him.”

Jace had to admit that was true. “What do you care?” He pointed at the demon with his knife. “That’s not a person, little girl. It may look like a person and talk like a person and bleed like a person. But it’s a monster.”

"Jace!” Isabelle’s eyes flashed. They were depthless, black, angry. Isabelle never got angrier than when Jace risked getting himself in trouble or danger. And he was risking both, now. Breaking the Law — talking about Shadowhunter business with mundanes — and what was worse, he was liking it. Something about this girl, her stormcloud of red hair and her snapping green eyes, made him feel as if his veins were filled with gunpowder and she was a match. As if, if she touched him, he’d burn up. But then, he loved explosions.

Awake: A City of Bones Extea

#pov comparison #the mortal instruments #the shadowhunter chronicles #tmi #jace herondale #clary fray #clace #jace wayland #extras #extra #awake #city of bones

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feyhunter78 · 1 year

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Moonflowers (12/16)

Description: Helaena and Jacaerys get married!

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

When he was awoken by his mother shaking him awake, his first thought had been of Helaena. His beautiful bride. He’d fought to keep his hands from shaking as he held the dragonglass dagger. Fought the urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her to his chambers, so that he finally may feast on the sweetness he’d gotten a mere taste of in the dragonpits those few moons ago. He and his mother made their way to the nursery collecting Helaena’s children waiting for her to appear.

“Jace this darkness does not bode well for your request.” His mother said, rocking back and forth with Jaehaera in her arms.

He sighed and held Jaehaerys closer to his chest, the boy’s hand latched onto his tunic, his tiny fist bunching the fabric. Jacaerys’ heart swelled, as he glanced down at the boy, he would now be able to raise as his son. “I have no fear, mother. Grandsire still believes in love, and he wishes to bind our families together. Helaena and I are his golden opportunity to achieve that.”

Rhaenyra gave him a wistful smile. “When did you become so grown-up? It was only yesterday that you were as small as him.” She nodded towards Jaehaerys.

They were interrupted by the appearance of Helaena, Aemond, and Alyra. Helaena looked radiant in night clothes; her cheeks flushed as she took Jaehaera into her arms. He wished to go to her, to escort her back to his chambers so that they may slip into his bed, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera safely tucked between them. He wished to be able to hold them, his family, to keep them safe from this mysterious darkness.

Jacaerys thanked the gods that his grandsire had granted their request. It had been easier than he anticipated, Helaena plucked his words straight from his mind and his grandsire had agreed with little hesitation. He rested his forehead against Helaena’s craving every inch of her skin to be pressed against his. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her in front of every nobleman who’d ever laid their lecherous eyes on her. Soon they would be able to officially introduce their dragons to each other, and perhaps Dreamfyre would lay a clutch of dragon eggs for their children.

When Alicent entered the room, he kept his composure, even when she tore Helaena from his arms. He understood her grief, not as well as his mother did, but he knew the pain of losing someone you loved. He let his mother comfort her old friend, knowing their shared wounds could only be mended by each other.

Once the reason for the darkness had been discovered, an eclipse the septons called it, a rare event but one that the North had predicted. The ravens had arrived midday, and the panic died down with the explanation. Now a funeral was to be planned.

“You must stand with our family; you cannot be seen with Helaena as not to compromise her reputation.” His mother said, smoothing down Viserys’ black tunic, his youngest brother squirming as he attempted to stand still.

“She is my wife; I should be by her side.” He argued, eyes darting to his father for support.

“The realm is not aware of your marriage, son. They must see her mourn her husband before they can accept her new one. The whispers of the public are not kind to women, no matter how high ranking they are.” His father warned, his expression was sympathetic, but his tone left no room for debate.

So, he was made to stand on the opposite side of the sept from Helaena during the funeral. His only consolation was that Alyra, who had proved herself loyal to him and his family, time and time again, stood by Helaena’s side holding her hand.

The septon droned on, and Queen Alicent’s tears were the only sound besides the man’s solemn words.

They made their way outside, where Dreamfyre stood waiting. Jacaerys watched as Helaena gave the command and Aegon’s body went up in flames. As they listened to the crackling of the fire his mother broke away from their family and made her way to Alicent taking her hand.

“If mother is allowed to approach?” He turned to his father, who gave him a quick wink. He walked calmly over to Helaena whose eyes were fixated on Aegon’s burning body.

“Prince Jacaerys.” Alyra said, curtsying at his approach. The mention of his name drew Helaena’s eyes from the pyre.

“Princess Helaena, my sympathies for your loss.” He said, his tone respectful, aware of the other members of court that surrounded them. “I was fond of Aegon in our childhood.”

Helaena looked at him with red rimmed eyes. “Thank you, Prince Jacaerys, your words of kindness soothe my heart.”

“May I embrace you, princess? It is a tradition of my father’s family when someone has passed on.” A lie, but the members of the court weren’t aware of that.

Helaena nodded and opened her arms slightly, letting him pull her closer, ducking his head so that it could rest on her shoulder. “I wish for this to be over; the smoke is hurting my eyes.” She whispered.

Ah, so that is why they were red. He thought. Not because she’d been crying, but because of the smoke.

“Soon it will be, and I promise there will be no smoke at our wedding.” He whispered back, hiding his face in her hair so that he could press a chaste kiss to her neck. He wished he could kiss her openly, but his father’s words echoed in his head.

The sound of a sharp cough made him realize her, and he looked up to see the severe face of Otto Hightower. “I admire your devotion to your father’s traditions, Prince Jacaerys, but we are not at Harrenhal, so I must ask you allow the princess room to grieve.”

Jacaerys stepped back. “Of course, Lord Hightower, I shall leave you to console your granddaughter.”

He left Otto Hightower with Helaena and returned to his father’s side.

“Lord Hightower is fond of his granddaughter, that seems to be his only redeeming feature.” His father said under his breath, causing Jacaerys to stifle a laugh.

Jacaerys had to stifle another laugh when it was Sir Criston Cole that accompanied Helaena down the aisle alongside her father. They each linked arms with her as she made the long walk towards him.

She was breathtaking. A white dress that trailed behind her, intricate swirls and hidden patterns of flowers and bugs danced up and down the fabric. Her hair was loose tumbling down her back in soft waves, a pretty pink blush across her face, and her violet eyes shined in the sun.

When she stood before him, she smiled, and he felt as if his heart would burst forth from his chest. He wouldn’t mind that if his heart could make a home in her hands, or her chest settled beside her own.

Her maiden cloak—an odd thing considering she’d been married before, but he did not mind—was a soft white with the three-headed dragon symbol of their family stitched in the middle.

“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.” The septon says, and Jacaerys removes her cloak handing it to Sir Cole before taking his own, a beautiful thing of forest green with both House Strong and House Targaryen’s crests featured prominently and draping it over her.

The septon continues on, and Jacaerys takes Helaena’s hands in his. “We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

Then the septon lays a ribbon over their hands and ties it. “Let it be known that Jacaerys Targaryen-Strong and Helaena Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

Jacaerys smiles at Helaena, and she ducks her head, a smile tugging at her lips.

“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words.”

They repeat after the septon until it is time for their individual vows.

Jacaerys looks into Helaena’s eyes, praying that this is not a dream, and that he won’t wake up in an empty bed, Helaena still married to Aegon. “I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.” The words come easy, there has never been another he wished to bind his heart to.

“I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.” Helaena says as well, her voice musical and sweet, a bright smile on her face that Jacaerys prays he will wake up to each morning.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love.” He says, the words rushed, and he hears his father snicker, but he doesn’t care. He cups her face and brings her lips to his, the sweetness of her is intoxicating, and he wraps an arm around her waist pulling her closer much to the amusement of the crowd.

They break apart and Helaena whispers “I love you,” before pulling his lips back to hers by his lapels, the crowd whistling and laughing when she does.

“I give to the realm Prince Jacaerys, future heir to the Iron Throne, and his consort Princess Helaena.” The septon announces, holding his hands above his head.

The crowd cheers, and they break apart gasping for air.

“To the feast!” Someone yells and the crowd begin to move towards the great hall.

Their families rush up to them and take their hands, congratulating them.

“I am overjoyed for you both.” His grandsire says, Alicent echoing his sentiment.

His parents embrace them both, and his youngest siblings tug on Helaena’s dress, pestering her with questions. She laughs and answers them all.

Aemond holds out a hand towards him, and he shakes it. “If you harm my sister, I will kill you.” He says.

Alyra elbows her husband. “I do agree that harm will befall you if Helaena is ever hurt, but I have no fear for her, I know that you would rather die than harm her.”

Jacaerys nodded and embraces them both with a laugh. “I am grateful for all you both have done for me.”

Aemond says nothing, just nods and loosely returns his embrace.

“Jace, you know I would do anything for you and Helaena.” Alyra says, her voice choked with happy tears.

Jacaerys cups her face and kisses her forehead. “I know, and we for you.” Then he takes Helaena’s hand and addresses their gathered family. “Shall we eat?”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhh, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon, @boofy1998, @kravitzwhore, @caribbeangel, @krispold, @issshh, @afro-hispwriter, @ryswritingrecord, @prettykinkysoul, @elissanatok, @sahvlren, @its-sam-allgood, @happinessinthbeing, @8e-h-e8, @feyres-fireheart, @just-emmaaaa, @crazylokonugget, @hedahobbit98, @devils-blackrose, @mercedesdecorazon, @snh96, @imjustboredso

#jacaerys x helaena #helaena x jacaerys #jacelaena #jacaerys velaryon #helaena targaryen #helaena x jace #moonflowers #h&j fic #hotd #hotd fanfics #prince jacaerys #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #meg's writing #Jace's pov #hotd fanfic

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derangedthots · 1 year

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bored and should be sleeping but i'm gonna be irresponsible and go into fmf/ctf author annotations mode instead

i adore reliable unreliable narrator jace for a lot of reasons but something that i have fun with is how his near-perfect-but-not-quite competence+awareness interplays with good parent(but not necessarily good person) daemon. there's a lot of conflicting views abt daemon as a person within the fandom and within show/book canon, and as someone who hasn't read f&b but who tries to lead with george's characterizations, i very much fall back on the description of daemon as that deliciously gray "wonder and terror of his age..not a man so admired, so beloved, and so reviled in all Westeros...made of light and darkness in equal parts." (honestly is it any wonder why he's george's fav with a description like that? valid) and to me, both book and show - though the show+showriters can be somewhat inconsistent - agree that daemon is very deeply a family man who is unfailingly loyal to the people he cares abt.

i especially love the bit that says "to some he was a hero, to others the blackest of villains" bc it implies that the identity of his observer matters and influences which parts of himself daemon shows or leans more into.

it's why his relationship with jace - and specifically how jace perceives daemon - is so interesting in the CTF universe bc he def understands that daemon is capable of monstrous acts (and that he even occassionally delights in them) but daemon's also raised him? been good to him and his mother and his siblings as long as he's ever known him? jace doesn't view daemon as perfect by any means, logically he knows there are parts of his stepfather that are terrifying, but he's also aptly positioned to think daemon's best/kindest/noblest parts are more easily accessible to him and their family.

for example, the section in CTF ch2 abt jace thinking he can ask daemon to spare jaehaerys and maelor when nyra becomes queen and daemon will just agree...how true really is this? (the original circumstances of blood and cheese aside) i'd say it depends on how secure daemon views rhaenyra's reign, his mood that day, and/or how good jace+nyra+rhaena are at convincing him. i don't have any clear answers myself bc the man is just that mercurial but jace? jace certainly believes he does

anyway, food for thought going forward in the fic lol just wanted to share a little bit of my process behind writing but idk i'll probably delete this in the morning🤷🏻‍♀️🤡

#actually have a lot of these annotations i could do #((literally could say smth abt damn near every line i wrote & what piece it fills in the puzzle))#but i'm hesitant to share them bc i don't actually know how much anyone cares for them #and also as a fire and blood book virgin i'm constantly just secondguessing my characterizations #like am i actually being an idiot rn am i running a circus and everyone's abt to watch the whole tent come crashing down #that'd be embarassing very cringefail of me LMAO #but yeah regarding daemon specifically i think one of his greatest character traits/strengths is his ambiguity #it's very fun to play with and only gets more fun bc the story isn't being told from his pov but jace's #((which is gonna make writing daemon's pov when i finally get to it very interesting))

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whichwoods · 11 months

Note

Do you have any lucemond fics Planned for when LSTS is over or is close to finishing?

oh so many!! for the lsts-verse i'll probably have a compilation of sorts added to the series in a few chapters or so, of deleted scenes and flashbacks that aren't making it in

and maybe i'll actually post some of my luke-gets-warded-to-kings-landing, slowburn/fix it, enemies to childhood friends to lovers au that was being plotted long before lsts ever was, but has so many moving parts i've been hesitant to share lol :,) someday <3

honestly i have so many ideas it'll be hard to pick what to do next, i may start posting snippets here early just so it can all be archived somewhere even if they don't get full fics

#i also have a few shorter fics for lsts for their kids after their first #actually have a whole fic planned for luke finding out he's pregnant w their 3rd but that's SO far off SORRy lol <3 #lsts #ty for this ask!!💕#also excited to write about all the kiddos dragons eventually #discord already knows so i'll spoil it here - they have 3 kids - naerys aerea and baelon #these 3 babies r constants in almost all my aus i have in my drafts so im vv excited to share more abt them when the time comes lol #im also v attached to my joffrey-pov slowburn joffron fic where lucemond r like parents to him kinda😭#jace is king aemond is his hand luke is lord of driftmark rhaenyra is [redacted]#built around me writing a scene of joffrey and jace having a screaming match like birdie and her dad when he tried to marry her off LMAO #“YOU CANT MAKE ME GO!!!! I WANT TO MEET LUKE'S BABE!!!👺😭”#“the babe won't be here for many moons!!😩 luke tell him”#luke:🫃🏻🤨 “uh pretty sure the babe wants to meet their favorite uncle jace (which isnt gonna be u btw)”#wynch writing

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damsel-with-dragon · 2 years

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Aegon raised his hands in a way of accepting his subjects. He was slowly easing into the role of a King, Alicent thought smiling to herself. She had faith in the Mother that he would grow to be a good man now and to her heart's desire a good husband to her poor daughter. The Dowager Queen was lost in her thoughts as the halls filled with the shrieks of a thousand commoners and the floor creaking. There, there was the familiar stench of dragon that she has grown used to over the years. This was danger and she had to protect her own.

Aemond was able, he always has been but her poor Halaena needed saving. She ordered Cole to get her daughter and herself ran to Aegon. Her firstborn. And at this moment she knew why Viserys cared so much about Rhaenyra. There was a special bond you shared with your first born. However bad and horrible they were that bond was hard to break.

She stood protectively infront of Aegon. Whatever harm came his way would need to go through her first. She could hear her father shouting at the guards to open the gates, to let the people flee. Thank the Seven, he had atleast this much humanity left in him. And then the dust settled and there infront of her was the great Targaryen dragon Meleys. She looked closely and The Red Queen was accompanied by her rider , Rhaenys Targaryen. At that moment the Princess looked the epitome of true Targaryen power and she was directly looking at Alicent.

Alicent closed her eyes praying to the Old Gods and New and braced herself for the warm flames about to touch her body. She could feel the weight of the dragon breath and hear the roar of the mighty beast. But the warmth didn't come. She slowly opened her eyes and they met Rhaenys'. The Princess had something in her eyes, a mixture of pain, power , freedom and what seemed to be sympathy. Why would the Targaryen Princess who just threatened her and her children sympathize with her? Thought Alicent as the dragon and its rider left King's Landing for worse to come.