#myrc3lla

[dcviline]

᯽⊱ @myrc3lla ⊱ 15 - rylen 🫣

ㅤㅤㅤWHAT  HAS  BECOME  OF  HIM,  THAT  HE  SHOULD  GIVE  IN TO  THESE  DESIRES  SO  FREELY?  Not  that  he  was  sworn  to  chastity  or  particularly  beholden  to  any  similar  vows,  but  there  were  certain tenets  of  knighthood  he  once  found  hard  to  betray.  She  is  the  niece  of  his  sworn  King,  and  she  was  the  man's  ward.  Which,  as  he's  come  to  learn,  is  sometimes  nothing  more  than  a  prettier  word  for  a  prisoner.  A  prisoner  he  was  meant  to  guard,  now  here  he  is,  helping  her  escape.  More  than  that.  He's  sharing  her  bed,  tasting  her  lips  every  day.  And  taking  her  every  night  now.  No  matter  how  much  he  had  resisted  her  in  those  earlier  months  under  the  guise  of  honor,  Myrcella  had  a  way  of  unraveling  that  with  every  stolen  touch  and  kiss.  She  had  asked  for  this  for  so  long,  hadn't  she?  And  he'd  found  it  hard  to  deny  her.  Perhaps  it  is  a  necessity  for  their  charade,  but  that  was  only  ever  an  excuse  for  them,  wasn't  it?  There  was  no  guilt  when  he  claimed  her  maidenhead that first time,  nor  any  time  after.  And  gods,  she  feels  damn  good  around  his  cock.

ㅤㅤㅤ❝ This  is  all  yours,  ❞  Rylen  moans  into  the  princess'  ear  as  he  enters  her,  pushing  slowly  to  the  hilt.  To  think,  he  had  only  intended  to  sleep  until  he  felt  her  pressing  herself back  into  him,  teasing, and  for  all  her  coyness,  he  knew  what  she  wanted.  It  always  amazes  him  how  well  she  takes  him,  her  wet  heat  stretching  around  his  girth  to  welcome  him.  While  one  hand  cradles  her  head,  the  other  holds  to  her  hip,  fingers  pressing  tighter  into  her  soft  flesh  as  his  thrusts  pick  up  their  pace.  ❝ You  are  going  to  drive  me  to  madness.  ❞  What  a  minx  she  is,  he  thinks  to  himself,  with  all  her  feigned  innocence  when  she  knows  she  is  getting  her  way  again,  as  she  always  does.  His  grip  tightens,  feeling  himself  throbbing  within  her,  this  slow,  half-controlled  approach  to  his  finish.  But  he  would  much  rather  feel  her  come  undone.  Teeth  graze  along  the  line  of  her  jaw,  shifting  the  angle  of  his  thrusts  as  he  pushes  her  thighs  tighter  together,  the  lightest  pull  against  her  cradled  head  to  urge  her  to  arch  her  back  for  him.  ❝ Move  with  me,  Cella.  ❞

[nxthero]

✧ ⊱ @myrc3lla

ㅤㅤㅤHARRY SHOULD HAVE PUT HER OUT OF HIS MIND THE MOMENT HE LEFT. Plenty of incentive to, given how her mother had tried to have him killed not so long after. Aye, he'd get no gold from Cersei, even if he would have brought her the men who'd schemed against her daughter. ( But the ships and gold he claimed from them when he took their heads compensated well enough. Such is the Iron Price. ) Her own men, however, those he chose to return to the queen, as well as a fire rose for the princess. He wasn't sure which he wished he could have seen more; Cersei's fit of rage, or Myrcella's reaction to the rose. If she would even care. He's sure she has plenty of men dying to give her more than enough roses these days.

ㅤㅤㅤThat should have been the end of things. A year has come and pass, one queen has been replaced by another, and Myrcella is just as close to the throne as before. And him? He's still nothing by comparison. His father disappeared sailing east and so did any hope that he might earn his acknowledgement. What was he thinking? That Euron might say he's his, and one of the warring rulers would legitimize him? that he might have a chance then? Foolish. He should have known better. Euron would have been more likely to kill him for asking. And as for Cersei, the Targaryen has taken her place, but he's not sure she'd bear him any more love than her deposed rival. Everything he wants seems to be more out of reach than ever these days.

ㅤㅤㅤWhy, then, does he choose to make a show of himself at the princess' maiden ball? She should be a thing of memory alone, but those memories would never leave him be, damn her. No matter where he went, he never found a shade of golden hair more beautiful, nor eyes like green jewels, nor that defiance and sweetness all held in one person. He has no business being here, and yet he can't leave it be. He has to know, does he still drive her as mad after a year apart, the way her memory alone has done to him? The Ironborn slips in without introduction, keeping away from anyone that questions too much until the Princess makes her appearance. And he watches for a while, making note of each unworthy man who kisses her hand, asks her to dance, dares to smile at her. It makes his blood boil beneath his flesh, any of them thinking that Myrcella could be theirs. Moreso the thought that she might want any of them in return. He has to know. He has to ask her. When she slips away from the crowd for the first time tonight, he follows. ❝ Miss me, Princess ? ❞ Harry says as he steps into the solar behind her, closing the door before her guards can see him sneak inside. He waits for the moment their eyes meet again to continue. ❝ I'm guessin' my invitation got lost in transit. ❞

[aeg3n]

♔ ⊱ @myrc3lla ⊱ our muses dance together for the first time

ㅤㅤㅤTHINGS HAD GONE BETTER THAN HE'D EXPECTED FOR A WEDDING THROWN TOGETHER IN A DAY. There will be a far more grand event held once they have their peace, but this is war, and the longer they go unwed, the more they risk. Myrcella was right about that, but of course, she always is. She's made a beautiful bride of herself as well, but he never doubted that she would; she's always beautiful , and he would have married her in rags if needed. But no, the princess is a vision in ivory silk and gold. A sight that would have belonged in the Great Sept of Baelor, if only the structure still stood. Aegon is a contrast in his black and red. The best suit he owns, though without the mail underlay this time around. Despite the short notice, Storm's End has come alive as well, gathering for a small celebration after their abrupt ceremony. Not quite what the wedding feast of a king and queen should be, but this smaller, more intimate gathering is admittedly less suffocating. They can focus less on appeasing their guests and more on each other.

ㅤㅤㅤ❝ Had your fill of lemoncakes yet? ❞ Aegon asks his bride with a chuckle. He did promise her lemoncakes if nothing else, and he's glad he could at least provide that. ❝ I'm sorry I could not give you a proper wedding as of yet, nor a feast befitting a queen. ❞ He will make up for it the moment he has the chance, but for now, this is what they needed to do. He could not leave her behind with only an unfulfilled promise again. The sounds of music and merriment fill the hall, and the prince rises to his feet, beckoning Myrcella with an offered hand. ❝ I would like to dance with my wife, if she'll join me. ❞

[khalesci]

@myrc3lla

[dcviline]

᯽⊱ @myrc3lla ⊱ an abrupt , heated kiss during the middle of a fight . - for aegon oop

ㅤㅤㅤ❝ YOU'RE NOT GOING. MY DECISION IS FINAL. ❞ Those words have caused an implosion he did not fully expect. Did he expect her to be upset? Yes, but certainly not this much. Perhaps he should have; King's Landing was her home for most of her life, after all, and her reasons for wanting to go are, admittedly, quite fair. She is the only person who knows the place almost as well as Varys, and her presence would also help deter her mother from making any rash decisions. But this is not the same as when Cersei had come to Storm's End. That time, they were in their own territory, in control of the castle and the lands around them. Now he is walking into the lioness' den. Everything will be on her terms, and she has proven she is not above doing anything to keep her power. One only needs to look at the rubble that was the Sept of Baelor to be reminded of that. No matter how useful Myrcella would be to have at his side, her life is worth too much to risk, and he will not use her as a shield against her mother. If only she could accept being told ❛ no ❜ when her heart seems so set on going anyway. Princesses are most frustrating in that way, as he's learned. And Aegon has stood firm in his refusal to change his mind. She always has a way of wearing him down to get her way, but he cannot allow himself to give in this time. Not with her life potentially at stake.

ㅤㅤㅤBut something in him does wear away as their quarrel continues; the adamance of a king to be, breaking and shifting into the voice of the man he can only be behind closed doors. Afraid, and angry about his fear. ❝ Look at me, Myrcella. ❞ he speaks as she turns away from him. How can he make her understand that this is for her own good? That he only wishes to keep her safe? It's hard to put to words with their tempers ignited in such a way. Instead he catches her by her shoulders before she can open the door to leave, pulling her back to face him. So much defiance in those emerald eyes, just like the first time they met. Has there ever been a woman as frustratingly stubborn as this one before? Frustrating, and beautiful, and altogether maddening. The corners of her jaw are cupped between firm hands, and Aegon lets the weight of his body push her backwards, pressing her against the door as he leans to join their lips. Even the kiss feels like a battle, spurred on by inflamed emotions, but it's a far more pleasant battle than the one they'd had with their words. ❝ I'm not risking you. I won't , ❞ Aegon says against her lips. ❝ Rage about it all you want, but I'd rather have you hate me for it than watch you die. ❞

[nxthero]

✧ ⊱ @myrc3lla ⊱ 100 INDULGENT TROPES

ㅤㅤㅤEVERYONE SAID SHE WAS A SWEET GIRL. A gentle Baratheon princess who would quietly comply. Yet Harry sees the lioness come out in her unexpectedly; an astonished, blinking stare given as the flat of her palm stings across his cheek. ( Did she just . . . slap him ? ) Worse men would have had her hand for it. His father certainly would have. But Harry is not his father. His hand touches along the hollow of his cheek, almost in disbelief, silent as he considers how to react. ( She has quite the swing, he'll give her that. ) Mouth opens to speak, but there's another slap that leaves him quiet. The first one may have been passed off as a spirited reaction. The second one? He's as amused as he is frustrated.

ㅤㅤㅤHarry won't allow her to catch him off-guard again. He sees that hand rear back once more, and as the princess is mid-swing, his own raises to catch hers at the wrist before she can strike him again. The other is similarly captured as she struggles to free the first, steps taken to force her backward, a firm grip raising her arms to pin them above her head when her back meets the wall. The rest of his body is used to press against hers, allowing no space for her to kick him, either, should she make an attempt. ❝ Is this how a princess says hello? ❞ Regardless of the circumstances, there is no ill intent in Harry's eyes. A fact he would have already made clear had she not struck him twice, but admittedly, the present situation is far more entertaining to him. Head tilts forward, bemused at the thought that no bastard like him would ever be allowed this close to a trueborn daughter under normal circumstances. ❝ Are you done? ❞ the pirate whispers beneath a smirk, teasing. ❝ I might let you smack me around more later, if you ask nicely. ❞

[thelasttimeiswear-realmythsmoved]

@myrc3lla continued from here

Banners   can   illicit   some   protection,   but   not   even   a   shield   can   protect   you   without   given   something   worth   in   turn.   She   thinks   about   how   her   father   would   boost   about   how   the   country   had   joined   together   against   the   Targaryen   dynasty   and   that's   why   they   raised   banners   against   the   king.   "Bannermen   need   alliances   and   something   worth   they   get   in   turn   to   offer   us   protection.   I   still   doubt   if   all   of   Dorne   would   want   me   as   Queen."   Darkstar   had   been   proof   to   her   that   not   all   of   Dorne   wanted   the   princess   on   the   throne,   less,   the   princess   was   a   woman   for   the   rest   of   the   realm,   in   which   men   were   mostly   in   seats   of   power   unlike   Dorne.   "Marriage   with   Trystanne   will   bring   Dornish   spears   to   my   side.   Lord   Uller   supports   my   claim.   It's   key   we   keep   him   in   our   side."   The   man   had   offered   his   home   as   a   seat   for   a   coronation,   knowing   well   the   implications.   There   is   the   matter   of   the   Reach   and   the   Stormlands   being   her   biggest   concern.   "Stormlanders   are   simple   in   their   approach.   They   seek   stability   and   favoritism   with   the   crown.   As   long   as   I   can   prove   to   them   that   my   name   is   Baratheon,   then   they   will   stand   behind   us."   Blood   of   the   first   men   runs   through   the   stormlanders   and   they   are   prideful   of   their   approach.   "The   Reach   is   still   allied   with   House   Lannister.   It   is   best   to   go   to   the   Stormlands   for   support   first."   There   is   a   pause   then,   as   she   looks   at   the   map   before   them,   fingers   toying   with   the   figurine   depicting   the   houses.   "They   say   there   is   a   Targaryen   in   the   Stormlands.   Is   it   true?   Your   aunt's son."

@realmyths

Arianne nods along to Myrcella's words. There is no doubt about it, the princess is clever. Way more so than even Arianne had given her credit for. When Myrcella mentions marrying Trystane , Arianne raises her eyebrows. The marriage would be a political one in any case. But it surprises Arianne that the princess can see the wisdom in doing it anyway.

Arianne is sure her younger brother would treat the princess kindly. And if she did want to be with someone else, would turn a blind eye. "You are right. Bannermen need something to fight for. And I am sure Trystane would not object to moving up the marriage." She knows that her younger brother likes the princess. How much she does not know. But she is certain it can't hurt. In fact, it will likely help.

Another nod at Myrcella's words. "And can you?" Arianne asks. She had heard rumors that the princess is not indeed a Baratheon. But they could all be nonsense of course. Arianne never puts too much stock in rumors, unless they spread everywhere. And even if the rumors are true, if the princess can find a way to counteract them, it won't matter. What will matter is what people believe is the truth. Belief is a powerful thing. One that they could easily use to their advantage if harnessed in the right way.

"A good plan." Arianne says with a bright smile. At the mention of the Targaryen in the Stormlands, her aunt's son, Arianne shrugs. "I have heard the same. Whether he is or isn't who he claims to be, I do not know. But in any case, it would be good to have him on our side." Perhaps Myrcella has an idea for that too. Arianne certainly has learned not to underestimate the younger woman. Young she may be, but her mind is first rate. And that is a good thing if she is going to rule the Seven Kingdoms.

"I am certain, that even if he is not Elia Martell's son, he believes he is. Perhaps I could use the family connection we'd have to our advantage." Arianne hopes so, anyway. She would like to get the man on their side. As if he is not, he might be a threat to their plans. So it would be much better and much easier if they could convince him of their plan being a better choice for everyone. "It ought to get us a meeting at the very least," Arianne adds. She herself is curious about this Targaryen prince. And if he really is who he claims to be. Either way, she would like to meet him. See if she and Myrcella can convince him to agree to their plans. That would be wonderful, in Arianne's opinion.

[velcryons]

@myrc3lla // sc i have to go look for

Even in the warmest months, Castle Driftmark was chilled and damp. Salt water had sunk into the walls and the floors, staining them with the ghosts of floodwaters and tidal upsets. Corlys himself disliked staying at the seat of his family house long, it's halls too bleak and wanting for his liking, as if they would drown him if he wasn't careful. He had never felt as comfortable in his ancestoral seat as his mother and his sisters did, preferring the bays and inlets of the Blackwater and the open sea. He would be glad to leave it behind for King's Landing after his wedding.

That was the only reason he and Myrcella were on Driftmark in the first place, to retrieve the marriage goods that his house would gift to hers. He was most excited for the wedding cloak, a surprise his sisters had been working on since their betrothal was announced. It was his twin sister Laena's idea to make a copy of Alyssa Velaryon's second marriage cloak. There had been unions between House Baratheon and House Velaryon before, but none had been as splendid as Alyssa's marriage to Rhogar Baratheon. Though most of her original wedding cloak was long gone by now, lost to time and rot, what was left had been carefully stored away. Now his sisters were putting the finishing touches on the replica, using silver and gold thread brought all the way from his mother's contacts in Yi Ti. He had wanted to show it to her the minute it had started taking shape, but his sister Daella had convinced him to stay his hand until it was well and truly finished.

"Before we return to King's Landing, there's a map in the Great Hall. Let me take you to it, and wherever you point to, that's where I will take you after we are wed."