#dragonstone au

[lastxdragon]

CS: A chance for understanding

PRIVATE ROLEPLAY: DO NOT REBLOG IF YOU ARE NOT MY PARTNER.

(Ask meme continued with permission.) ➝ Feel mine’s heartbeat

Jaime stood, frozen, as her hand ghosted through the hairs on his chest. Then her palm pressed over his hammering heart. Her touch was cooler than he had imagined - so much of this woman burned that he had imagined her skin would, too. He let out a trembling breath.

“There, Your Grace,” he said. “Just a man, not the monster they say I am. Though I suspect you know how it feels to be thought of that way.”

@a-maimed-man-and-bitter

╣❦╠ ƈօռզʊɛʀɨռɢ ֆȶօʀʍ ❧

“Not a monster? No, you are just a man as you say and I am no longer the frightened child who once lived in fear of you or the Usurper,” Daenerys replied coolly, drawing her fingers back from his skin, unaware of what subconscious fascination had driven her to touch him. The torch lights flickered against the smooth, black dragonglass walls of the dungeons below Dragonstone and cast long shadows in the dirt beneath their feet while Jhogo and Aggo stood as two lean, copper shadows by the door of the cell. Through the small, barred window high on the wall, the sounds of waves crashing against the cliffs wafted into the chilled room where the Kingslayer had been secured upon arrival. The tall, golden lion was wrong, however. She was the mother of dragons. If they were monsters, then so was she.

The thought did not unsettle her as it once did. Others would always think as they wanted, define her in their narrow scope of desires and understanding, unable to glimpse the bigger picture. Her time in the Dothraki Grass Sea, near death, had given Daenerys a clearer understanding and purpose, stripping away the need for the approval of others, depriving them of the ability to manipulate her into doing what they want. Turning her back on him, Daenerys made a small hand gesture and both Ko stepped forward out of the shadows as she switched to Dothraki. “Cut him down and get him cleaned up. I will be in the Painted Table room,” she instructed before returning to Common. “I cannot control how others think of me and so, they do not control me, Ser Jaime. We will speak again when you are… properly attired.” With that, Daenerys strode from the cell.

[li-ion-battery]

ok but. the comedic potential of the dragonstone au tho.

every time a new emblem joins and asks why Alear has a dragonstone, Marth loses a braincell

[lastxdragon]

The Dragon’s pet

@reekcd

╣❦╠ ƈօռզʊɛʀɨռɢ ֆȶօʀʍ ❧

The Greyjoy sister and brother had been with her since Meereen and Daenerys had grown accustomed to seeing them around first the pyramid and then the ships and finally Dragonstone. At first, she had found it strange that the man, Theon, had deferred to his sister, but Yara was a strong woman and there were a million things to think of besides the Ironborns. It was only when they were on the ships crossing the Narrow Sea, in such close quarters, that Daenerys began to notice Theon more, watching him more closely than she let on. She’d seen similar behavior among some of the Dothraki slaves when she had been Drogo’s wife, but this man was a Greyjoy, the Prince of the Ironborn if those titles still meant anything. 

She heard bits and pieces, here and there, of Theon and someone called Ramsay Bolton. Whispers that his fingers weren’t the only things missing, that the Bolton sigal was the flayed man, that Theon had escaped but wasn’t ‘the same’. Daenerys watched more closely, observing his nervous habits, the way he glanced around furtively, how he cringed at the slam of a door. Oh, he put on a good face for his sister and their crew, but Daenerys had already seen his twitches. She couldn’t unsee them, nor could she ignore that they were getting worse. On Dragonstone, Daenerys went down to the stores they had brought from Meereen and, after a little digging, she found what she was looking for.

Daenerys retired to the library and commanded that she be left alone then she sent for Theon Greyjoy. The prize she had acquired sat on the side table and Dany sipped wine while she waited. The fireplace crackled as the door opened and the Greyjoy man entered. Daenerys stood, putting her glass of wine aside. “Be at ease, Theon. You are not in trouble... yet,” she told him firmly, assessing his reaction as she slowly reached out and lifted the slave collar from the table, holding it between her small hands. “You’re trying so hard, aren’t you? Yara doesn’t understand, but I do. Tell me, I want to hear it from you. Tell me that you want to be mine, that you want my collar around your neck under your shirt, that you want me to take away all those scary choices.”

[lastxdragon]

“You look exhausted.”

Daenerys looked up from the Painted Table with a soft sigh. “Its these plans of Tyrion’s, Ser Arthur. They make me uneasy and I find sleep does not come easily.” She reached for her wine glass, taking a sip.