#stormbcrn

[li0nsdaughter]

@stormbcrn said: "you look radiant."

dragons may have fire for their radiance, but lannisters have their gold. and whatever name myrcella bears, she is her mother's blood as well: the golden pelt of a lion is hers much as any other beast's might be. in the torchlight she gleams with it, gold embroidery on crimson fabric, and flecks of real gold woven in besides. a necklace of gold and ruby at her throat, and ruby-tipped pins in the heavy gold of her hair.

the dragons have again returned, and again a lion stands beside them. she wonders what the lions of the past would think of that, yet thought of their approval doesn't linger long. she does not need it. whether or not they would like or dislike, she stands atop a victory she did not have to die for: a place in the dragon queen's new court, born from the ruin of the reign that came before it.

"my thanks, your grace," she says, the proper words dancing on a smile as she links her arm with dany's. "but it is you who shines the brightest tonight, as should be."

tonight daenerys takes the throne before all of westeros, symbolic ascension to showcase the victory already won. for myrcella it has been a labyrinth of secret and strategy, ensuring those who come will not try to spark some new rebellion, pull at some thread of history in seeking to unravel it.

"every house is here and assembled. prince doran of dorne sent his daughter arianne in his stead, and the tyrells of the reach are here in full force. like as not they will try to seek a marriage agreement, or a spot for their daughter in your household before the night is through. we have people all throughout the crowd to...keep an eye upon proceedings there. but i doubt very much we shall see anything of note tonight."

the noise begins to grow as they approach the throne room, the hum of many voices speaking all at once, the sudden breaking-through of laughter. like as not there will be no violence here, and yet she knows they have all come to test daenerys, to see what she is made of. it is from this night that any new plans are sure to spring. a battle they cannot win with targaryen dragons but might with a lion's claws: hidden, for now, until they are needed.

"have i forgotten anything you wish to know?" she asks, pausing as they approach the last turn toward the iron throne, toward whatever future now awaits. "are you ready?"

[northsballadmoved]

a kiss between furrowed brows to try and comfort. ― @stormbcrn.

sansa doesn't realize she is thoroughly pouting until the shadow of the targaryen princess passes over her, cool lips gently pressing to the knot formed between her brows. she blinks and her expression softens, initially in surprise and then with a subdued warmth; a muted sigh passes from her lips as daenerys pulls away, raising her head whilst purging the slouch from her shoulders and sitting up straighter in her seat. how long she has been brooding silently over her now - lukewarm breakfast, she's certain she doesn't wish to know. it is a relief no one else had caught her, though the fact she was found out nonetheless brings the faintest tinge of blush to her cheeks.

❝ i'm alright, ❞ she assures quietly, extending a feeble smile and a grateful press to dany's hand. ❝ i think i might have underestimated how hard it would be to leave. to be away from everyone, and robb. ❞ not once in sixteen years have they been separated, not like this. and it's not as if she'll be alone; she'll have arya, her father, and her dream of a betrothed . . . but the more she ponders on it, the lonelier it seems. she doesn't like to linger on it -- so instinctually, she returns to how poorly she has been behaving. there is a quick albeit quiet breath, the slightest raise of her brows and then her features smooth into sheepish concern. ❝ i suppose no one's asked you how you're fairing with all of this? ❞

[aclashofmuses]

@stormbcrn liked this for a starter !!

winterfell is filled with ghosts, but sansa is not the little girl she had been before she ventured south, before everything went wrong. she has little time to dwell on that, the threats which loom on both northern and southern horizons; dragons flood the skies as if plucked directly from stories. it seems the only truths stories hold are its monsters.

sansa's only armor once had been her courtesies, but delicate porcelain had since turned to steel. she is sharper than she had once been, more a player on the cyvasse board of westerosi politics than simply the pretty thing she outwardly presents. and so she stands when the dragon queen enters, her smile as lovely as it had been before the horrors, and says, "i am so very grateful that you could join me, your grace."

[vaedar]

@stormbcrn said: ❛ tell me what you want. ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 undeniably possessed of the beauty that those of their blood are known for. That alone would be enough to wake his desire, but to seduce her back when they first met, would mean to RISK far more important matters than his lust. That is, if she were to even reciprocate any advances he might've attempted. Now, however—Their mutual UNDERSTANDING has brought the two closer. Vaedar is the son of an ancient valyrian house, one who once rode dragons before the Doom, and survived in secrecy and isolation thanks to MAGIC. When the last of the dragons died, that magic dwindled and eventually slumbered, accessible only to those with vast knowledge in the higher mysteries. Not long ago, that magic reawakened with the rebirth fo DRAGONS.

With the intent of aiding Daenerys of House Targaryen, the man departs from the partially ruined Old Valyria to Meereen—A trove of once thought lost WISDOM resided in his mind, and more still would be available to the Queen were she DARE the journey to their people's ancestral homeland. In the meantime, he was more than glad to oblige to her inquiries and use of that knowledge he offered, for it allowed him to linger always near. Just engaging in conversation with her brought him DELIGHT, and when their talks began to take a more suggestive turn; Vaedar brazenly fueled them. It did not take much—Roaming glances, smaller distances, caressing touches and evocative words. Never has the man been shy in his pleasure nor in SEIZING what he wants, so it would be no different with Daenerys, more so now that he knows she's not entirely unaffected by his charm.

Putting down the cup of wine, there's a gleam in his violet gaze that's reflected in the curve of his lips whilst he approaches her on the veranda. In the light of the moon under a clear night, she almost seemed to GLOW in that nearly translucent gown, looking the part of a goddess that beckoned to be WORSHIPPED. Although the valyrian is not a pious individual, he's more than willing to make an exception for her.

❝ You ask what you already know the answer to, ❞ He uttered with a hidden smile when standing behind the Targaryen, both of his hands lifting to perch upon her hips. Long fingers traced the curve of her waist, dragging the fabric of her dress higher along but it was to her hair that one of them shifted, to move silver-gold and expose a shoulder. Slightly parted lips brush on the flesh with the ghost of his WARM breath leaving a trail higher to the side of her neck. The hand that remained by her waist slips around to her front, inching tantalizingly LOWER.

❝ Or is it that you enjoy hearing me say it? ❞ He asks, a hint of amusement lacing the teasing, husk tone of his voice. Fingers drew lazy circles just below her abdomen but as he added another set of words, they reached their intended destination between her thighs. ❝ You... I want you. ❞

[cubcrowned]

The wooden horse in his hand is waved through the air, little lion making soft woosh-ing noises under his breath. So absorbed is he in his play, that he doesn't even notice the queen enter. ( Now that she is queen, he has time to be a child ).

❝ Rawr, rawr, rawr ! ❞ He crows, giggling.

♚ ∴ ❝  @stormbcrn

[marblecarved]

@stormbcrn sent a letter to shireen baratheon: ‘‘ i’m here, i promise. ’’

prompt: found family prompt.

Dragons, Shireen thinks to herself, like the ones from my bad dreams !

Yet not, at the same time, because the three dragons ahead of them do not look as though they had been carved from stone. Indeed, upon arrival, she first noticed one of a pale cream color. She would never have noticed the golden streaks were it not for the sun: its glare made the dragon look aglow. 

Shireen tilts her head back, flickering her gaze from one dragon to the other with wide eyes... which widen further when she meets the gaze of one, and it startles her so that, with a gasp, she hurriedly takes shelter behind Daenerys, hiding from it. 

Which one was it ? Before hiding herself from view, she saw green — a distracted glimpse of it. Daenerys’ voice draws her from her thoughts, prompting Shireen to once more tilt her head back, looking upward towards her — and a smile begins to appear, see ? There, at the corner of her mouth ? Her words have reassured her, and not a little !, and have also reminded Shireen of her presence. Should anything happen... 

❝ Thank you, your grace, ❞ her answer comes a moment later in a sweet-sounding murmur. She returns to Daenerys’ side with clear hesitancy then, when she stops, she brings her hands forward, intertwining them. Slowly, her gaze returns towards the dragons. ❝ May I... ❞ a pause. ❝ May I ask their names ? ❞

[vredeir]

@stormbcrn​​,  meme,  ——  " it’s not a matter of negotiation, it’s always a matter of blood. "

BLOODTHIRSTY  WARRIORS;  EVEN  NOW  STONEBORN  HAVE  EARNED  THEIR  REPUTATION  AS  SUCH.  Ivar’s  ancestors  answered  with  a  united  front  upon  the  rule  of  the  North,  but  they  are  no  longer  one  people.     (  In  fact,  they  are  not  even  conquerors  anymore.  )     They  have  mastered  surviving  the  treacherous  nature  on  &  around  the  isle  of  Skagos  and  they  raid  other  isles  to  thrive  on  their  thirst  for  blood.  BACKWARD  SAVAGES  is  what  most  people  of  Westeros  still  assume  them  to  be.  Ivar  wonders  whether  or  not  it’s  common  knowledge  that  the  men  of  Skagos  are  no  longer  without  ships.     (  For  the  North  destroyed  all  their  ships  after  the  Rebellion  many  many  years  ago.  )     ❝     Yes.     ❞     It’s  easy  to  agree  with  her  spoken  statement.     (  Or  maybe  it’s  a  warning.     )     Either  way,  both  have  grown  up  with  different  tongues,  gods  &  cultures  to  sculpt  them  into  what  they  are  now.  His  blue  eyes  represent  the  icy  air  Stoneborn  breathe  on  their  isle.  The  gleam  of  his  eyes  just  as  stormy  like  the  treacherous  seas  surrounding  his  home.  Who  would  have  thought  he  would  find  himself  on  foreign  shores,  no  longer  speaking  his  own  tongue———  to  be  where  his  ancestors  wielded  shields,  axes  &  swords  in  an  attempt  to  earn  their  freedom.     ❝     I  guess  it’s  a  good  thing  history  knows  my  people  to  be  all  about  blood,  right  ?     ❞     He  stands  from  the  wooden  log  he’s  been  perching  on.  Fingers  curling  around  the  handle  of  his  crutch,  knuckles  turning  white,  as  he  stands  &  straightens  up  to  full  height.     ❝     We  no  longer  allow  to  be  ruled  by  foreign  Kings  &  Queens  to  fight  their  quarrels  though.     ❞

[graunblida]

@stormbcrn​​ gets some holiday spice(y) 

      “ Is it colder than you imagined? ” Lexa asked, fingers gently grazing the goosebumps decorating the other’s skin. The warrior was accustomed to harsh weather, as her people were from further north than even those of Winterfell. But, she knew for those used to an entirely different climate, the winters in this region felt particularly BRUTAL. Warm lips soon replaced the delicate fingers previously caressing Daenerys’ shoulder. “ Fear not, my queen, I will keep you warm. ” There was a mischievous glint in emerald eyes as arms wrapped around the other, pulling her closer. It was early enough where the pair could lounge lazily in their blankets before preparing for the day. They might as well enjoy the time allotted.