#sigilsongs

[reinerose]

Margaery   Tyrell   had   seen   warlords   before,   men   who   postured   in   court   with   their   swords   polished   and   their   banners   bright,   but   Khal   Drogo   was   something   else   entirely.   Seated   upon   a   great   rug   in   the   heart   of   his   khalasar,   his   long   braid   adorned   with   bells   that   chimed   softly   in   the   breeze,   he   watched   her   approach   with   the   lazy   amusement   of   a   lion   watching   a   rabbit   dare   to   step   closer.

Garlan   was   at   her   side,   ever   her   shield,   but   here,   in   the   sea   of   Dothraki   warriors,   he   was   just   another   man   outnumbered.   Still,   Margaery   moved   with   the   grace   of   a   queen,   head   held   high,   her   silks   dusted   from   travel   but   no   less   fine.   She   had   crossed   the   Narrow   Sea   with   fire   at   her   back,   and   now   she   sought   fire   to   reclaim   what   was   hers.

“I   have   come   to   offer   you   gold,   enough   to   fill   your   coffers   for   generations,   and   land—fertile   land,   rich   with   harvest—for   any   of   your   men   who   would   take   up   arms   with   me,”   she   declared,   her   voice   steady,   betraying   none   of   the   exhaustion   that   sat   heavy   in   her   bones.   The   language   was   foreign   and   she   spoke   so   little   of   it,   but   she   rehearsed   the   speech. @sigilsongs for drogo.

The   Dothraki   did   not   care   for   gold,   she   knew,   but   Drogo   was   no   mere   raider;   he   had   conquered   lands,   made   his   enemies   kneel,   and   she   had   to   believe   that   such   a   man   would   see   the   value   of   ruling   beyond   the   horizon   he   had   always   known.   “The   Reach   has   fields   that   stretch   farther   than   the   eye   can   see.   Yours,   if   you   wish   it.”

[roguecrown]

@sigilsongs / @sigilsins asked: [ strip (in a brothel) ] - KAEYIRA SNOW performs a striptease for yours / before she's claimed herself to be a dragonseed, i loosely HC she might find some work in the brothels when she gets to KL so, ... *serves daemon a pretty silver-haired girlie*

Mysaria   often   worked   the   extra   mile   for   him.   Somehow,   she   often   knew   what   he   desired   before   he   did   and   that   night,   when   he   arrives   at   Flea   Bottom   as   he   often   did,   into   the   private   chamber   that   had   been   arranged   for   himself,   he   does   not   find   his   paramour   but   rather,   a   young   woman.   Instantly,   he   observes   her   hair,   long   and   silver   and   what   seems   to   have   recently   been   untied   from   a   braid.   He   sees   the   resemblance,   and   what   the   intentions   are.   "You   are   new."   The   Prince   spoke   with   a   simple   matter   of   fact,   pouring   two   glasses   of   wine   but   only   leaving   one   on   the   table   for   her   and   the   other   for   himself,   taking   seat   in   a   nearby   chair   and   exploring   the   young   woman   with   his   eyes.

  "I   do   not   do   this   with   the   unwilling.   So   if   you   wish   to   leave.   .   .do   so."   Because   Daemon   is   aware   that   he   is   a   man   with   particular   tastes   and   sometimes,   rougher   than   others.   But   the   girl   has   a   defiance   that   causes   him   to   halt   and   wonder   if   she   is   one   of   the   dragonseeds   that   were   spread   around   the   realm.   His   family   had   been   notorious   for   doing   so.   Regardless   as   she   began   to   strip,   he   adjusted   himself   on   the   chair   and   observed.  

"Very   well.   Tell   me   your   name."   Eyes   fall   the   path   of   uncovered   shoulders   as   she   strips   sheds   of   clothes   for   his   entertainment.   "And   come   closer."   The   man   speaks   in   a   gentle   but   commanding   tone,   leaving   the   cup   of   wine   on   the   side   at   last   and   adjust   himself   by   the   edge   of   the   chair.   He   toys   with   a   loose   strand   of   the   dress   she   had   been   made   to   wore   for   tonight.   "I   shall   give   you   a   proper   dress.   Mysaria   sometimes   forgets."   Only   natural   of   course,   but   she   needs   a   good   fine   dress,   of   good   silks.   Red   and   black   if   he   must   too,   to   fuel   that   particular   fantasy.

[harezaldrizi]

@sigilsongs / @sigilsins asked: send ( kiss ) : sender grabs receiver by the chin to kiss them / what if my orys and ur rhaenys?

For   Rhaenys,   it   was   not   something   she   was   bothered about.   Her   husband   has   two   wives   after   all,   and   those   nights   he   spends   without   her,   he   is   with   Visenya,   or   now,   it   sees,   with   Orys'   own   wife.   She   does   laugh   at   the   oddity   of   it   all.   Aegon   had   rejected   Argella's   hand   in   marriage   but   will   accept   it   between   his   legs   and   with   his   cock   inside   inside   her.   Orys   had   learned   shortly   after   because   the   realm   was   small   to   them.   Aegonfort   was   for   htem   a   private   place   to   be   and   behold   and   she   soon   learned   the   truth.   If   anything,   Rhaenys   is   hurt   that   her   husband   had   not   told   her.   Still,   what   does   come   as   a   surprise   is   Orys   reaching   for   her   and   kissing   her.  

A   pleasing   sound   comes   from   her   lips   at   the   aftertaste   of   wine   she   feels   on   his   mouth   and   she   lingers   on   for   a   moment   before   lilac   eyes   open.   "You   think   Aegon   will   be   vengeful   if   he   found   out   you   did   this?"   Rhaenys   points   out,   hands   moving   to   the   shape   of   his   muscles   and   a   smile   appearing   upon   her   lips   as   she   continues   to   lean   closer.   "I   tell   my   husband   everything."   And   she   was   truthful   about   that,   though   she   leans   in,   kissing   Orys'   earlobe,   pulling   at   it   between   teeth.   "I   can   tell   him   you   taste   like   Reach's   wine.   I   wonder   if   all   of   you   taste   the   same."  

And   her   suggestive   tone   reaches   the   mischief   in   her   eyes   before   kissing   him   again,   a   hand   on   the   back   of   his   neck   to   pull   Orys   closer,   letting   her   frame   press   against   his   own   so   he   felt   the   shape   of   her   body   against   him.   Rhaenys   often   wondered   if   he   had   spy   on   her.   She   was   never   shameful   on   her   body   or   herself   in   general,   and   Orys,   honorable   as   he   might   be,   has   dragon   blood   and   something   else   inside   him.   He   runs   warm,   and   the   sight   of   a   body   might   do   much   to   anyone.

[myrc3lla]

@sigilsins / @sigilsongs asked: 13A / for Cella and Däthedr

Court   was   a   dangerous   thing.   Upon   her   return   from   Dorne,   she   had   felt   lonely.   Trystane   had   joined   her   but   her   brother,   now   king   and   perhaps   influenced   by   her   mother,   send   him   away.   She   is   not   sure   what   her   plans   are   but   regardless,   the   Princess   is   now   alone   in   a   foreign   land,   more   foreign   than   Dorne,   where   she   spend   years   of   her   life.   She   finds   a   kindred   soul   in   Däthedr   Xo   Joraq,   a   Prince   of   the   Sweet   Lotus   Vale   and   she   spends   days   learning   about   the   Summer   Isles.   They   sound   like   Dorne,   although   chaotic   and   she   in   turn,   teaches   him   about   what   she   learned   in   the   foreign   land.   Something   else   brews   when   he   spends   more   time   in   her   chambers   than   he   should.   Her   cousin   Rosamund   is   loyal   to   her   and   would   say   nothing   and   if   she   did,   she   would   say   they   talked   all   night.

  Except   if   one   were   to   listen   close,   they   would   hear   the   muffled   sound   of   a   moan,   stiffled   by   his   hand   on   her   mouth.It   had   started   with   gentle   kisses   and   touches,   tonight   was   different   though.   Her   skirts   had   been   shifted   away   as   his   hand   had   sought   inside   them   for   her.   She   knew   what   he   wanted,   from   Arianne's   whispers   of   men   and   women   and   pleasure.   When   he   touches   her,   her   body   feels   so   limp   and   delighted,   pressed   to   her   bed   with   a   gentle   creak   and   how   he   opens   her   legs   with   his   own   as   fingers   push   inside   her   walls   and   she   squirms,   feeling   him   how   he   made   her   feel.   "Gods.   We   shouldn't-"   but   she   cannot   speak   any   longer   when   another   finger   joins   in   and   she   feels   herself   grow   wet.  

The   hardness   of   his   cock   by   the   side   of   her   leg   where   she   feels   him,   and   as   he   moves   his   arm   with   her   hips   grinding   against   him,   one   of   his   hands   muffles   her   moans,   unsure   how   to   lower   her   own   volume,   while   her   hands   come   to   his   chest,   holding   on   to   his   hips   and   encourage   him   to   grind   against   her,   wanting   to   feel   his   cock   grow   beside   her.   She   does   not   bite   into   his   hand,   but   instinct   causes   her   to   move   her   mouth   and   press   his   fingers   inside   her   mouth   and   lick   them,   imagine   them   its   the   ones   inside   her   at   that   moment.   "Is   this   how   you   do   courting   in   Sweet   Lotus?"

[zobriefyre]

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍

Upon the birth of Prince Aemon's second daughter, a match was proposed by the man himself to King Jaehaerys, for the princess to wed Prince Daemon, second son of his beloved brother Baelor, when she was of age and continue the puracy of their bloodline but the match was rejected and Daemon made to wed Rhea Royce. Years later, the Rogue Prince made a similar request over the Princess' hand when her brother, namesake of King Viserys I, passed away and the Princess was able to hatch three dragon eggs from his funeral pyre but the request was request, perhaps advised by Otto Hightower, fearing the match, with three dragons that saw the woman as their mother and the Prince's fearsome Blood Wyrm and any future hatchlings of their dragons. But one cannot put a fire by ignoring it and eventually, the cousins grew curious of one another. To him, she was as close to a goddess that could be, A Valyrian beauty that embodied the three heads of their House. To her, Daemon represented everything she was not when it came to Valyrian strength; a man of support and strength and passion, whose fire could match her own. The tease of future suitors from across the sea could only be endured so far before the Prince became a dragon and took the princess, except the princess too was a dragon.

@sigilsongs daemon and daenerys ( @zobriefyre )

do not reblog unless tagged. mutuals are welcome to comment.

[d0wager]

Dragonstone   was   imposing,   and   she   was   surprised   he   was   allowed   to   make   home   there   while   Rhaenyra   was   meant   to   be   heir.   But   guess   she   had   to   remain   in   King's   Landing   in   order   to   prepare   herself   for   the   throne.   She   does   not   mind   the   change,   fresh   air   and   less   filled   walls,   court   life   seems   gone   now   she   remains   there   now   as   the   man's   soon   to   be   bride.   She   supposes   they   are   there   to   be   wed   on   the   tradition   of   Valyrian   weddings,   she   does   not   see   Daemon   bend   and   pray   to   the   Seven.   "Some   of   these   are   in   Valyrian."   She   said   looking   at   a   few   of   the   manuscripts,   treading   carefully   the   pages   on   her   hand.   They   show   drawings   of   dragonriders   and   Valyria,   her   attention   to   the   songs   that   had   been   translated   and   the   ones   speaking   of   weddings.  

"Do   you   think   I   would   look   good   in   a   dress   like   this?"   She   jest,   showing   him   the   drawing   of   the   Valyrian   costume   dress   and   headdress,   she   is   so   used   to   wear   neutral   colors   but   the   idea   of   wearing   his   colors   thrills   her   regardless.   "Issi   īlon   naejot.   .   .dīnagon   kesīr?"Are   we   to.   .   .marry   here?   She   frowns   a   little   as   she   did   her   best   to   keep   her   pronunciation   as   she   was   instructed   but   she   is   not   quite   sure   she   said   it   right.   She   does   not   wish   for   her   father   to   attend.

@sigilsongs asked: ❝ They have an astonishing library. Since you are so fond of reading, I thought you might join me? ❞ from Daemon, in their engagement verse 🙏🏾

  And   there   is   a   short   pause   as   hands   pass   over   another   drawing,   Balerion   and   Valyria   but   her   mind   is   focused   on   the   impending   nuptials.   "Will   there   be   a   bedding   ceremony?"   Alicent   cannot   hide   her   blush   at   the   thought   to   be   seen   or   heard   by   someone   who   would   report   back   to   her   father.   But   it   is   westerosi   tradition,   to   confirm   a   bedding   had   taken   place   and   after   his   marriage   with   Rhea   Royce,   surely   the   crown   wants   to   confirm   he   did   his   duty,   so   did   she.   "If   so,   I   just   wish   to   be   prepared.   Septas   had   explained   a   few   things   but   never   much."   And   what   they   did   only   refer   to   a   man's   pleasure   and   made   it   sound   rather   painful.

[isefyres-archive]

"It has been a while since you gave me the honor to dance with you." — aegon i targaryen (@sigilsongs ) to obsidia celtigar

"I   was   under   the   impression   you   did   not   wish   to,   Your   Grace."   She   greets   with   a   small   bow,   amusement   and   curiosity   spread   upon   her   lips.   It   had   been   a   while   since   the   King   was   seen   on   the   feasts   or   participated   in   the   dances   at   court.   Queen   Rhaenys   was   a   force   of   nature   that   seemed   to   force   the   King   out   of   his   shell   to   have   some   fun   outside   of   his   kingly   duties.   "And   I   believed   I   have   danced   for   you,   not   with   you,   Your   Grace."   She   did   at   the   festivities   of   his   coronation   and   the   announcement   of   the   pregnancy   of   his   son,   a   Celtigar   tradition   for   the   daughters   to   bring   fortune.  

Perhaps   she   had   danced   with   him   once,   but   he   had   been   sullen   then,   and   one   could   almost   feel   the   hand   of   his   advisors   forcing   his   hand.   This   time   seems   different,   and   her   hand   lands   upon   his   offered   hand.   "It's   a   Valyrian   tune.   My   father   said   you   might   enjoy   it.   A   little   gift   from   House   Celtigar   to   you,   my   King."   Another   one   of   her   Houses'   Valyrian   kept   secrets.   They   withhold   them   as   a   dowry   upon   suitors,   mostly   the   dragons.   Maybe   this   time,   it   will   work.  

She   picks   up   on   her   dress   as   they   move   toward   the   room   to   dance   and   Obsidia   feels   like   a   queen   for   a   fraction   of   a   moment.   "You   are   in   good   graces   today.   Is   it   the   wine   or   have   your   spirits   lifted?"

[zobriefyre]

@sigilsongs asked: "Oh sweetness, someday a real man is going to make you see stars and you won't even be looking at the sky." — daemon targaryen

Daemon’s   words   lingered   in   the   air,   as   rich   and   smooth   as   the   smirk   he   wore.   Daenerys   arched   a   brow,   her   lips   curving   into   a   teasing   smile,   though   a   flicker   of   something   unspoken   stirred   behind   her   violet   eyes.   “Real   men   sound   like   a   distant   dream   these   days,”   she   replied,   her   tone   light   but   her   gaze   sharp.   “Hard   to   recognize   one   when   none   have   appeared.”

She   glanced   at   Daemon,   she   suspected   he   wasn't   speaking   of   husbands   or   thrones.   He   rarely   did   when   he   turned   his   charm   on   her.   Daenerys’   thoughts   drifted   for   a   moment,   unbidden,   back   to   before   her   brother’s   death,   to   the   idea   she   had   lived   with   for   years—Viserys’   ambition   had   always   meant   them.   She   would   have   married   him,   sealed   their   bloodline   as   Targaryens   always   had.   It   was   fate,   her   duty.

But   Daemon   was   speaking   of   something   else   entirely.   Not   duty,   not   marriage.   Her   teasing   smile   softened   as   she   stepped   closer   to   him,   her   voice   a   touch   lower   now,   tinged   with   that   same   sharp   edge.   “Any   marriage   that’s   arranged   for   me   would   never   make   me   see   the   sky,”   she   murmured,   her   words   carrying   weight   beyond   the   playful   banter.   “Stars   aren’t   found   in   cages.”