[@inspireswar sent]: chose between daeron and luke because i'm evil >:)
because making abby choose is funny (it is, she suffers for it)
Abrogail raises her eyebrows as she actually gives the question some thought, and Lady Lyanna looks curious. There's differences between Luke and Daeron, of course, but truly, it comes down to a few simple facts. "Well, Daeron, of course, because Daeron wants to fuck me, and Luke doesn't. Do you need more detail than that?"
Serves her right for such a question.
-
Unfortunately, it was Abby who ended up on the bottom of the twister pile when Daeron lost his footing, and Luke's losing it with laughter just out of sight. "Luke! Luke is always going to be my favorite!" she grunts, trying to shove his himbo butt off her.
repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words
not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having sex
Level of Friendship:
never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends || my only friend ||
First impression of them:
I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them
Current impression of them:
I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them
How good of a kisser:
worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || makes me moan || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed
She was told, when Daeron brought her home to make her his wife, that they were the Queen's rooms. Little was said about who Daeron's mother was, but he'd spoiled her, doted on her, and told Abrogail she could decorate it however she wanted. The bed is large and sturdy, the sheets silken and soft with as many pillows as she could want. When he comes to her, Daeron's laughter - dark and low and amused - rings out when he finds her snuggled in the nest of them.
She adored the streaming light through the windows, the crackling fire, her freedom prancing around Maegor's Holdfast, even if it often felt lonely for lack of companionship besides her maids and Daeron.
Until the night it changed. Until the night those people came into her room, speaking as if they knew her. The frightened young man with purple eyes and a smile that reminded her of a dream she could not longer properly remember.
The metal along her ankle clinks as her foot shifts.
"What happened to him? The one with purple eyes," she asks. Daeron was an imposing man, who frightened those around him but he'd rarely frightened her. She didn't care about his scars, or the angry set of his jaw. To her, he was so handsome, so beautiful, and when he smiled at her it made her giddy and pepper his face with kisses.
His anger had stolen away all that she loved in his face, and for the first time she could see what other men feared.
When those men came to try take her away, to kidnap her from her home, it had been a massacre. Her doors had burst open, Daeron himself slaughtering men left and right. She'd hidden beneath the bed, struck silent in the terror and face of violence. The blood had pooled on the flagstones and soaked into her soft rugs, running beneath the bed. When Daeron had dragged her out she'd been soaked in it.
He'd been frightened until he realized she'd been hiding, not hurt.
It doesn't matter how delicate the chain around her ankle is. Her husband had at least been gentle in spite of his fury to not weigh her down with a chain from the dungeons. At least she could move with this one, even if it was not very far. At least it is not a collar around her neck, although she knew he was still considering it.
Instead there are simply bruises.
Although not as heavy, it still weighed her down. The delicate skin of her ankle beneath the iron cuff was rubbed red and raw, bits of dried blood along her ivory skin.
"You belong to me," @thedarring said from where he stood at the foot of her bed. He was limned by the light of the fireplace, truly underscoring his title as the Dragon King. He stood there, towering over her where she sat curled in the middle of her bed.
It was only going to be a nightly patrol. Just a few circles around King’s Landing then back to the Keep. Nothing that seemed too dangerous or worried their mother. ❝Having doubts, little brother?❞ he smirked as he adjusted his gloves and riding leathers. Aemond hadn't gone on a nightly ride in some time and figured that Vhagar might also enjoy the change of routine.
It hadn't taken much persuasion to have Ser Criston to escort them to the dragon pit and all. Although Vhagar was much too big to be in there. He had to make sure that everything else was in place as he prepared. Aemond had waited on the other’s arrival.
Standing on the beach beside Vhagar, he let his hand run along her neck with a rare smile. ❝Think of it as we’re bonding. Its been some time since we have...❞
❛ will things ever go back to the way they were? ❜
That was a hard question to answer. The truth was anything but light and he didn’t wish to lie. Lying would do no go and they were preparing for a war. A war that Aemond helped progress. Their families had been at a silent war since they were all young but now it was becoming louder. Harder to ignore with each passing day. ❝ I do not believe they can, brother. I think we are far from that… how could we? ❞ Aemond asked with a genuine curiosity. How could they ever go back?
Aemond still held onto the hate that had begun when they were kids. When Lucerys had taken his eye, the night they had jumped him. Now, it all felt strange. Squeezing his eye closed he tried not to focus on what had occurred at Storm’s End.
The crackling of the reminded him faintly of another sound and he pushed it from his thoughts. The reminder of how he had lost control of Vhagar. Why hadn’t the bastard been able to control his dragon? Why hadn’t he…?
Aemond would do whatever he could to protect his family. He had trained becomes the most dangerous swordman in the realm but never had he thought it would come to this.
❝Our family will be safe… I will make sure of that…❞
[@thedarring sent]: hide . hide now .
Hi I come bringing sad feels
Daeron had promised to take her with him the next time he was forced to live for the next battle. True to his word, to her desperate desire to no longer be separated from him, She happily mounted Tessarion along with him and headed out for adventure.
Battle had come upon them swiftly in the night. The scream of an unfamiliar dragon, the gout of flame illuminating the camp. Sleep still clung to the edges of her mind as they bolted from the warmth of their bed. "Daeron? What's-" She screamed as an explosion resonated and her lover's hands grabbed her, jerking her close and pressing a searing kiss to her that she had no time to respond to.
She'd never seen him look so terrified and it frightened her more than she could ever know. Frantically nodding, she grabbed her cloak and burst from the tent, taking off inthe direction towards the river. They'd discussed it before. Head to the river, follow it east. I'll find you, I will I promise. Abby's heart thudded in her ears and her throat closed up with the threat of tears but she moved on. Fingers clutched at the dagger she held. She knew how to use it - Had trained with it until both Aemond and Daeron were satisfied that she could protect herself enough to get away. Brambles and branches tore at the linen of her nightgown and the warm wool of her cloak.
hide. hide now.
Where? where could she hide? Scream and shouts still filled the night air from both dragon and human alike. Tessarion's cry was loudest, and it comforted her to know the girl was still going, that no harm would come to Daeron as long as Tessarion rode true.
Hands grabbed her. Strange, violent hands and her scream of terror was cut short by the hand that smacked across her face. She could not see, she could hear the threats but somehow they did not make sense. Her dagger was wrenched away from her and flung far. There was a tearing sound as her cloak ripped before the world went dark.
A sarcastic remark played on the tip of her tongue, her focus entirely shifted from her book to the man. Lilac eyes focused on him as the princess sat up, staring at him in almost surprise. “And what if my happiness cannot be found here, surrounded by people who hate me. Who would rather me gone?”
in truth, aemond's days had always been a tad bit repetitive. often he would spend his time training together with ser criston. whenever he wasn't training he would either continue his studies or go to vhagar and fly for hours. it was always a much preferable option in comparison to having to clear up aegon's mess or having to deal with a father who won't even look at him.
he just returned from his flight, feet now back on the ground. aemond reaches out for his stuff only to notice that something was missing: his eyepatch. ( 'i was certain i put it here ' ). that was until he hears a familiar, yet unfamiliar voice. it has been a while since he has last seen him after all. remaining eye squints slightly as he looks at the person in front of him. ❝ @thedarring ? ❞
❝ i am not fond of surprises, ❞ he is certain that there was no mention of daeron returning to king's landing in their last correspondence, just like there had never been a real mention of what happened to his eye — though surely his brother would have heard it through rumours. regardless of his statement, hardened expressions softens a little bit. ❝ but this is a surprise i can live with. ❞ what he means to say is: it is good to see you brother.
