THUS COMETH BLOOD. @gaindragon-moved - Tumblr Blog

PRIVATE AEMOND TARGARYEN, GEORGE R.R. MARTIN'S FIRE & BLOOD AND HBO'S HOUSE OF THE DRAGON. AFFILIATED: @palespawn @chivalerie

#GUINEVERE. TWENTYSEVEN. SHE. AUDHD & AROACE.#DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

because i was interested in seeing who they paired with what, i bought the official tarot deck. aemond as the chariot astride vhagar, the queen of dragons: 'as the largest dragon in the realm, vhagar is known as the queen of all dragons. she is a formidable portrayal of the chariot with her rider, prince aemond targaryen. this pairing's unexpected connection heralds the reclaiming of power previously thought to be inaccessible.'

#ESSAYS.#just thought this was interesting and i really like the art style.#if you would like a scan of your character's card #please feel free to comment and i'll scan it & message it to you #with its booklet description. <3

enduringmystery

prophecy start for @gaindragon

it wasn't unusual for aemond to accompany helaena on the times she decided to take a walk in the private garden of the keep. it also allowed for lack of guard as her brother was fully capable of protecting the two. an accomplished swordsman, always keeping an eye out for any threat. the weather was wonderful and the sun was shining, it was perfect. initially it had been suggested that the two take to the air on their dragons and though it was a wonderful idea, there had been a goal behind the days trip to the garden. collecting leaves from the bushes to feed the caterpillars she and jaehaera had meticulously been taking care of. soon they would move on to the next phase, before becoming butterflies but until then they needed to be carefully looked after. "it's strange, you know..." carefully she plucked the leaf, ensuring that it wouldn't tear. "looking at butterflies most find them to be the most beautiful creatures. they fly freely.— a symbol of joy." tilting her head to the side, her voice began taking on a distant tone as she spoke. "but people forget it wasn't always so. that they were once carterpillars. a creature many finds unlikeable. one symbolising transformation." it had been a coincedence to see a carterpillar crawling at one of the leaves and she picked it up, to gently let it crawl across her hands. "i find that to be quite sad, brother. especially when some cut the lives short of these creatures before they're allowed their tranformation. that some would kill them before they truly have a chance to fly freely and experience true joy. to steal away the beauty and hope of a creature— be it out of cruel intend or by mistake."

gaindragon-moved

i would have preferred to ride. the gardens were agreeable enough, flowering amongst the bushes and grassy beds alike spots of colorful flames dancing, reaching in a wind-sway to set leaves alight. that wind swept through strands of silver-hair as his head turned. winsome, he mused with some disdain to the word, in the manner that fragile things oft are (and thereupon uprooted; as they must be, eventually). weeds donned in finery, if not without some purpose to serve. i could name lords of a similar ... fashion. the prince's heather-colored sight strayed idly along the blossoms as he kept deliberate pace with his sister's distracted amble (YOU SEE THE HISTORIES HERE RATHER THAN THE PETALS — SEEDS SEWN BY THE ORDER OF QUEEN ALYSANNE, ROOTED IN THE MAESTERS' BOOKS). hand clasping a wrist behind the small of his back, chin canted upwards to the sky above. a short huff through his nose. it ought to have been the pair of them up there — vhagar and dreamfyre chasing the other's tail beneath midday's enveloping warmth. lips curled. what was it helaena had claimed? feed for the ... caterpillars. my sister and her court of crawling things.

he knelt, cloth-clad knee to the dusty path, for the approach of his niece and the bloom she proffered to him. so expectant was her mien that his chuckle dared softly, plucked stem pinched betwixt long fingers. defeated by a child, it would seem. " gevie ēnka, jaehaera. " twining the flower into one of her short braided tresses as the princess had commanded of him, he nodded appraisingly at her exclamation. his eye followed carefully after her as she trotted hence ahead of them once more.

pushing to stand, mouth pursed into a fleeting line. " t'would seem that to transform, as you say, their needs must devour. " t'was naught but some lesser thing to be squashed under-boot. the tenderer of their gardens grumbled oft (he had caught in passing) 'til they became the pretty butterflies so valued, perching flower to flower. such was the way of it — until it was transformed, its worth was moot (UNTIL SOMETHING IS MADE OF YOU, WHAT IS YOUR WORTH, O DRAGON-PRINCE? WHERE SHALL YOU TRANSFORM YOURSELF ON VHAGAR'S BACK?). thoughtlessly, he lifted his hand, palm-down, beside but not touching his sister's. gaze rested apathetically on the caterpillar as it squirmed wretchedly over her hand. " perhaps death was all it was meant for, " he murmured, accustomed to her peculiar mentions. sad? " not transformation. hm ... to be swallowed down a bird's belly — that purpose. "

#IN CHARACTER.#MOVEMENT ONE: EVER DOTH THE FIRE.#enduringmystery #me sweating over how late this reply is i'm sending my love <3 #aemond agreeing to the gardens because he loves his sister and her oddities. <3 #translation: beautiful color‚ jaehaera.

while it was a smaller issue he dealt with before the incident, aemond developed true insomnia after his eye was slashed. sleep does not easily find him and he wakes often at the merest sound or disturbance when he does. it is a common occurrence to find his chambers empty during the dark hours; he has either ridden out to see vhagar and sit at her side (where he sometimes finally gets the rest he seeks) until morning light peeks over the trees, or he is sat up flipping through the pages of old tomes in dwindling candlelight. some of the more hopeless nights he will lie awake in bed, attempting sleep, staring at the dark stone until the hour of the nightingale. though he is sometimes given a draught to aid in sleep by the maesters, they tend to induce unsettling dreams in him. he feels his most refreshed if he's slumbered outside by vhagar's wing. more often than not, he will take to the skies on her back and ride into the night before returning when the gates open.

#ESSAYS.#THERE now i have this on here.#chronic pain etc. from his injury that persists contributes to this as well and #makes it difficult for him to sleep.#so he often needs to distract himself. he tries to push through it #as much as he can but he does have to ask the maesters #for something occassionally.

ANGRY, AEMOND & ALICENT. house of the dragon, season 2, episode 1 / george r.r. martin's fire and blood / saint sister, castles / house of the dragon, season 1, episode 7 / house of the dragon, season 1, episode 10 / alucarda (1977) & nayyirah waheed's salt / house of the dragon, season 2, episode 5 & gillian flynn's sharp objects / george r.r. martin's fire and blood / house of the dragon, season 2, episode 1 / lydia yuknavitch's letter to my rage: an evolution.

#RISE UP O' FLAME.#IMAGERY.#ESSAYS.#i would let this be rebloggable for alicents but i fear personals finding it. <3 #aemond 🤝 alicent anger and queer repression.

#RISE UP O' FLAME.#IMAGERY.#QUEUED.

ridervhagar

this was the useless crying in my head. this was the grieving fury in my blood.

may sarton, from "the autumn sonnets", collected poems: 1930-1993 (orig.)

#ASH AND BLOOD‚ THIS SMOLDERING IN YOU.#QUEUED.

SECRETLY KISSES @chivalerie

DOTH THIS SMOLDERING ALWAYS BURN SO? SOMEWHERE IN YOUR CHEST WHERE THE FIRE WAS FIRST LAID AND THE YEARS EVER-TENDING TO THE EMBERS. fingers pressed hard upon the lord's hips, thumbs at the jut of bone 'gainst the leather trousers. we should not do this here. despite eventide's laden blue shrouding the garden and its shaded places, unease prickled the nape of his neck and trickled down his back betwixt skin and cloth. this warred with the embers (DESIRE'S HEAT WANTS YOUR PALMS TO BURN THEIR MARK ON HIM), an inward fight that had seen him defeated beneath its banners many a time. does he know truly ... what he does to me? 'tis a fresh wound that has only presently begun to heal (he did not think it ever would). breath hitched, a tremulous gasp caught in the smack of their mouths as he leaned with curving shoulders into the sweet kiss. would that he could drink from this nectarine cup heedlessly (he, who would take the fruit and burst it in his fist to drip down his arm instead). a leg steps out, shoving the man backward (the ivy tangled o'er the wall behind the other flattens and mutes the sound of charmont's back thumping). " you — " the prince's mouth kisses fiercely, cutting away his own speech into a grunt. his hand slid itself up charmont's side 'til it grasps the other's curls and gives an admonishing yank. " you like to play a dangerous game. " and so do i. lips brush then at the corner of charmont's as they curl into a small smile, murmuring, " striking under the cover of nightfall ... how fearsome. "

#IN CHARACTER.#chivalerie #i simply cannot stand them. insufferable FOOLS in love. <3 #MOVEMENT ONE: EVER DOTH THE FIRE.#AND IN THE HAZE OF SMOKE‚ I SEE YOUR HAND‚ REACHING. (with chivalerie)

one thing i do like visually is how alicent is shown touching the scarred side of aemond's face during episode six of season two. now, i do side with the fan take that aemond does experience chronic pain, deadness, and so on from the injury on that side. showing her attempting to reach out to him by touching the one place on his face where he possibly can't feel it in the moment (or precious little) is incredibly reflective of the fact that she is not able to reach him (putting aside the dialogue). to shutter his reaction even further by specifically changing the camera so that we are shown the eyepatch and not the look in his eye when he stands is something i really like as well. that depiction of his determination to steel himself by closing off the viewer themselves from being able to read the final look on his face.

#ESSAYS.#sidenote but chrome is no longer underlining things i misspell and now i exist in fear.#if you ever see any spelling mistakes from here on out no you did not (in tears).

PUT YOUR 'ON REPEAT' PLAYLIST ON SHUFFLE, list the first ten songs, and then tag ten people to do the same.

dragonrider, kiki rockwell.

middle of the night, joel sunny. scars, boy epic.

throne, saint mesa.

warfare, katie garfield.

bitter milk, ibi. falling, catching, agnes obel. castles, saint sister.

flesh and bone, black math.

helvegen, kalandra.

tagged: took it from @greendowager ! tagging: you!

#ESSAYS.#<3 i decided to specifically shuffle aemond's playlist with key lyrics #because his is one of my most favorite playlists that i've ever made for a character.

🌺 send this to ten muns you think are wonderful 🌺

#TREASURED.#and what if we kissed courtney i think i've put off asking for your hand these years long enough -- <3 #but no YOU. <3 #holding this in my hands HONESTLY.

moldavite

i love taking things too far. best distance to take anything to be honest

#THE BLACKEST HAND‚ BLEEDING.#QUEUED.

CONTINUED WITH @ringwrath FROM HERE.

'TIS FIRE AND BLOOD WHEN DRAGON-RIDERS TAKE TO THE SKIES, AND UPON THEIR WINGS FLY DOOM. SO SAYETH THE USURPERS OF ELENDIL'S HOUSE! MAY THE MEN OF ARNOR BURN. the targaryens denounce their ilk, they who defied the true lord of the world. it was he who gave them their greatest gift — and to him, their descendants are thus eternally sworn. their house ascended in sauron's name, crowned in steel and wreathed in his flames. so had he followed in ancient tradition and hastened to eriador at the bidding of angmar's king. to serve mordor's captain was the promise of renown, and the prince sought nothing less. i will prove myself to them all. (YOU ARE A DRAGON, AND YOU YEARN TO SHARPEN YOUR TEETH.)

vhagar's nearby rumble reverberated into the ground and against the soles of his boots as the one, gratified eye gazed out upon the wreckage wrought amongst smoldering grass. lips parted slightly as the stench of smoke wafted. one word of mine and i turned them into ash. when the king spoke, the eye glanced keenly over to him. chin canted a tad higher, hands clasped at his back as fingers clenched within leather gloves. " i am a targaryen — we are not men, your majesty. " the low words are regardful despite, and mouth presses into a tight-lipped smile. common men are fodder, if they will not bow. as much as he detested to be counted in the ranks those who had ended up in vhagar's belly (and who would on the morrow be naught else but shit), he would will it if he could that this great king see him not of the lesser, but as a power. look on me. " men don't ride dragons. they are burned by them. " (IN YOU IS THE MARK OF OLD NÚMENOR, CHARRED BY BLACK HANDS.)

face turning away amidst wind-swept silver-strands, heather-colored sight met that of vhagar's stooping, spiked head, eyepatch putting the king out of his view. vhagar's ill-tempered growl as her neck curved elicited a momentary flicker of mirth across his countenance. " sagon gīda, vhagar. aderī. " the dragon grumbled with a rush of breath from her nostrils as he then switched with well-practiced ease to the common speech, " we are most grateful, your majesty. vhagar still ... hungers. " as to his state — well, weary or no, rest did not oft find him as simply as that, even as the soreness of his legs climbed into his back. how could he now, when his blood still sang with a dragon's roars? it makes taut every string inside him. (SHALL THE MINSTRELS SING THAT AEMOND ONE-EYE MADE THE KINGDOM OF THE NORTH INTO EMBERS?) surely there is more.

though his shoulders remained rigid, as if to impress upon the other that despite his agitation he could comport himself, his head inclined in acknowledgement. " ... hmm. if i may — " hands withdrew from behind, one palm grasping the pommel of his sword, the other arm gesturing along the horizon, finger pointed. " while the false-king's hold is breaking, your men cannot cross the hoarwell but by treading into its waters or the last bridge. " the eye seeks the king's mask. " i can cross it on dragon-back and descend upon the nearest stronghold and take it unawares. they don't know of dragon-fire here as they do in gondor. " fire-light dances in the heather, anticipation setting his jaw. " t'would become a place for you and your men to march from to meet arveleg. "

#IN CHARACTER.#ringwrath #MIDDLE-EARTH: AND SO SAURON REIGNED WITH FIRE AND BLOOD.#he really said first can i push myself even MORE for you then i don't know. eat dinner

elbows rested atop the table, his heather-hued eye cast its heavy-lidded gaze down upon the mug's rim grasped palm over in his right-hand. as his wrist swirled the mud-colored mead around, with half an ear did he hearken to astarion as the man's prattle cut through and bled into his abstraction. if a sword had been held to him and it was demanded that he recite what astarion's words had been, his innards would be dripping betwixt the cracks in the tavern's floorboards. the eye fell shut, mead sloshing rhythmically as his dark-dyed head gave a slight cant. hm. something about the whore who ran away with one of the silk merchants, i gather. mouth's corners quirked, eye opening. how ... inane. the mead went on to stir in his mug as he gazed listlessly at it. frivolous nothings that he cared even less for, yet — he preferred this than loosening his own bladed tongue lest it pierce himself. his lack of rest had frayed the seams of his tongue's scabbard (lo, there is a throb behind his eye not brought on by drink). as much as he didn't give a shit — astarion's lilt was a balm to his wounds. it used to be vhagar's rumblings. a short inhale — her death still stabbed him (SO IT IS SAID THAT THEY WHO WERE ONCE AFLAME LONG FOR THE FIRE THAT HAS SINCE BEEN SMOTHERED.)

HAVE YOU DRANK YOUR FILL ALREADY? @palespawn

a faint murmur of acknowledgement as the one-eye strayed to the red-light of the hearth. the mug clunked as he set it atop the table. it is only when he realizes astarion has ceased speaking that his sight finds the man's face. what was it that he had asked him? " — no. " his thumb scraped absently at a crack on the rim. untrue, but he did not want the other to take leave of him. it was not as if there were any solace left to him apart from this ('TIS BETTER THAN TO BLEED OUT UNWEPT, UNATTENDED, AND ALONE.) " go on. you said she stole coin from the madam for ... — a ship leaving on the morrow? " features composed into something resembling interest, brows lifting. in a blithe tone, " she'll be dead before she reaches the harbor. "

#IN CHARACTER.#palespawn #THE THIRD MOVEMENT: SO YOU STAIN.#*live otto reaction meme* queers. <3 #actually did you know i meant this to be short. and then it wasn't. <3 #QUEUED.

BOLD ENOUGH & AEMOND. house of the dragon, season one, episode 7 / house of the dragon, season one, episode 7 / house of the dragon, season two, episode 8 & george r.r. martin's fire and blood / saint mesa, blackest hand / george r.r. martin's fire and blood / house of the dragon, season two, episode 7 & kiki rockwell, burn your village / george r.r. martin's fire and blood / house of the dragon, season one, episode 10 / c.s. lewis' the chronicles of narnia / house of the dragon, season two, episode 4 / george r.r. martin's fire and blood / saint mesa, blackest hand / george r.r. martin's fire and blood / house of the dragon, season two, episode 4 & george r.r. martin's fire and blood / kiki rockwell, dragonrider.

#RISE UP O' FLAME.#IMAGERY.#ESSAYS.

#RISE UP O' FLAME.#IMAGERY.

ridervhagar

(quick as the wind and swift as a swallow, dragon-like and angry as a storm).

the táin, trans. ciaran carson (orig.)

#ASH AND BLOOD‚ THIS SMOLDERING IN YOU.#QUEUED.

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