Aqua ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧*⋆.*:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ she/her | 30 years old malfunctioner | 18+ | Multifandom Blog | I will go down with this hellsite | This is my emotional support social platform
The key thing throughout Ormund's journey was to anchor him and make him feel human through his love for Daeron. [...] However monstrous and villainous he is, cruel and callous and quick to execute the blacksmith – his love for Daeron was real. (x)
( start here, caitlyn siehl + the phantom of the opera, gaston leroux )
the sad and tragic thing is Ormund LOVES that boy... he loves him so much in his sick and twisted way he is filled with pride, affection and probably he knows their end is near. he is aware that it is probably the last moment he will see him.
I’m so happy we got this scene. It’s a nice reminder that despite his terrible actions at times, Ormund was still a fallible human who was loved by some. That most people are not so white and black but somewhere in the grey, and even for the worst people you know…there might be someone who will mourn their loss.
Summary: You were always Ormund’s prize, forever a step behind him. But what happens when you’re finally one step ahead and beat him at cyvasse?
Pairing: Husband! Ormund x Wife! reader
WC: 1.5k
Warning: 18+, toxic marriage, manipulation, reader and daeron have a good relationship, threats, angry outbursts, reader rides vermithor
The days had dragged on, the kind of days where things had blended together. You were heavily pregnant, pregnant with a babe that you didn't want.
Your wants and desires had long stopped mattering once you married Ormund. The man that had swept you off your feet, made you believe in something that wasn't real, made you think that the Hightower's weren't that bad.
So much had happened and you could barely remember when you met him, how he charmed you and made you consider a marriage proposal.
Ormund's facade dropped right after the wedding. He was no longer the man that you had even stood in front of earlier, he was exactly as your mother had warned you.
You were no longer able to wear your house colors in any capacity, he had Vermithor chained, he didn't allow you to keep contact with your mother. You had lost everything in a matter of a night and by then, it was too late.
You enjoyed the days where you were alone, the days where your Lord husband was busy with things that actually mattered— not criticizing you and your every move.
That morning, you joined him in his chambers as he'd requested— he wanted to indulge in a game of cyvasse.
"How are you and the babe faring today?" He questioned, examining the board.
"I am fine, getting less and less sleep these days. I suppose the babe is doing alright as well, becoming more active." You spoke, your hand resting on your bump.
Ormund loved cyvasse, but you hated it— you hated it, because you could never beat him. It was bad enough that you were the wife of a man who challenged your mother, pregnant, and your dragon was chained up.
You felt hopeless.
No amount of watching brought you closer to beating him, he was always one step ahead.
You watched as Ormund moved his piece, your eyes roaming the board.
"Your mother is.. smart. It was smart to give the bastards dragons and to add what she'd lost. She still lacks the courage and foresight though ." He mentioned.
"How does she lack foresight?" You questioned, moving your piece and keeping your eyes on the board.
Ormund paused, a faint chuckle in his throat.
"Time will tell, sweetling."
He loved to taunt you like that, bring up your mother and draw in your curiosity— only to deny you a true answer.
"Hmmph."
"I missed you this morning, husband."
His brow raised, picking up another piece and placing it on the board.
"Is that right?"
Your conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door, Daeron entering the room. Ormund didn't even have to lift his eyes to know that it was Daeron. He knew based off the sound of his boots.
"To what do we owe the visit?" He questioned.
Daeron was quiet, a mirroring of his mother. A boy who'd been unfortunate in growing up around Ormund.
"I come bearing news for Lady Hightower." He spoke softly, walking over to you.
"What news?" Ormund questioned once more, his tone growing stricter.
Despite your families being on opposing sides, you and Daeron had a bond. You weren't his mother or anything remotely close, but both of you understood what it was like being under Ormund's thumb— being his prize.
You smiled, offering out your hand to Daeron as he approached you. He leaned down and whispered into your ear, telling you news about your dragon.
Ormund watched from across the table, a displeased look on his face.
You listened to Daeron's words carefully, making sure that you did not allow your face to give away what he was telling you.
"Thank you, Daeron. I will see you later at supper." You smiled.
Daeron glanced at Ormund and back down at his feet, walking out of the room— shutting the door behind him.
"What was that?" He asked.
Your brow raised as you feigned ignorance, "what was what, husband?"
He pursed his lips, "move your pawn."
"Do not play the fool with me, my love."
You brought your eyes back down to the board, picking up your next piece.
"It was nothing, just some information about how Vermithor was doing. He has been restless as well."
You placed your piece, giving him an innocent smile.
"I have told the two of you about your feelings towards those beasts.. they're abominations." He griped.
"It is easy to feel that way when you were not born into a house with the privilege of having them."
Ormunds eyes slowly flickered over your pregnant frame, his eyes finding your face.
"It is not a privilege to be born with tainted blood, to be part of a house that has caused everyone else's suffering."
His words struck you like an iron, your eyes starting to sting. You lowered them, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.
You hated hearing him talk about you and your family that way. You were so “tainted”, but it didn’t stop him from crawling into your bed?
"What of him or her? They are part of me, of my blood, my mothers blood, her fathers blood." You reminded him.
He scoffed, moving his next piece.
"They will be different, not like them. You are different, you are a Hightower now. A name that you can wear with honor."
You batted your eyelashes, fighting back the tears that pricked the corner of your eyes.
"You're right, husband. Please, forgive me."
He reached over, holding his hand out. You placed yours in his, a fake smile on your face.
"Our family will be different. Our children will have you and me to guide them, to show them the truth of things."
You nodded your head in agreement.
"They will—"
"I love you.”
He rubbed your hand.
"I love you more, sweetling."
You pulled your hand away and looked back down at the board, a pit in your stomach. An unexplainable feeling of rot curling into your mouth at his words.
You didn't want a future with him or in Oldtown, you wanted to go home.
"Within a few days, I shall be leaving here for a few matters that need to be handled." He told you, pushing his hair from in front of his face.
You moved your piece, his eyes glancing up at the board.
He stared in disbelief, his eyes blinking several times.
You had outsmarted him in the game that he loved so much.
"That can't be right." He mumbled, a huff of air leaving his mouth.
He moved another one of his pieces.
You stood up, fixing your gown around your belly.
"I think that I will return to my chambers for a nap, I am quite tired."
He scoffed, "you need to move your next piece."
"I will see you at supper, husband."
"Move your pawn, wife."
You ignored him, pushing your chair up to the table.
"Finish the game!" He yelled, smacking all of the pieces off the board.
The sound of the pieces clattering across the stone made the impossible feel possible. You could win against him, you had a chance after all.
"This fucking nonsense!" Ormund yelled behind you, knocking the board onto the ground.
Ormunds footsteps inched closer behind you as you reached the door, his hand grabbing yours.
"Do you think of me a fool?"
You stared blankly.
"Ormund, what could you mean? I am just tired."
"You are a cheater." He fumed.
You yanked your hand away from him, "I did no such thing!"
He took a deep breath.
"You never win those games."
You pulled your shoulders back in offense.
"I am just as capable of winning as you are , you allowed yourself to get too comfortable and I won."
He stepped closer to you, his body pressed against yours. He grabbed your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks.
"My sweet wife.. I have been nothing but good to you and yet you still lie to me?"
You winced, "I didn't lie."
"What.. did Daeron come to tell you earlier?"
You shook your head, trying to pull from his grip.
"You're hurting me, Ormund."
"Tell me the truth." He gritted.
Tears welled in your eyes.
"He told me about Vermithor. I had him go check on him, because I knew that he wouldn't handle being chained well."
Ormund scanned your eyes for lies, but he was only met back with someone he made feel small and scared, his own wife.
He gently let go of your face, wiping one of your tears.
"Forgive me, my love. That was unkind of me—"
"I just do not appreciate secrets. We are husband and wife, they are not appropriate."
You shook your head.
"It was not meant to be a secret, but I knew how you felt and I didn’t want to upset you.”
He pulled you into a hug, trying to comfort you and reassure you that he wasn't mad.
"I believe you, sweet girl. There's no need to lie to me, because I'm your husband and you understand what will happen, if you do."
You bit your tongue and decided not to say all the things that crossed your mind. You re-played the plan that you and Daeron had talked about over and over again.
Daeron found the spare keys to the collars that they had on your dragons, which is why he rushed to come tell you earlier. It was the only thing that kept you from breaking down in Ormund’s arms.
Your chance to escape was closer than it had ever been.
