Sansa needed no comfort from anyone other than her mother. No one but her mother would make her feel better, so that was who she ran to. The halls of Winterfell felt longer than normal, as if the world wanted to stop her from being listened to. The Queen wanted her direwolf dead, the prince was nothing like the tales she adored so. When Sansa saw her mother, could recognise her anywhere, she picked up the skirts of her dress and started running. ❝Mother!❞
She threw herself at her mother, arms wrapped tight around her. Even if there was company, she paid no mind. ❝They...they want to kill Lady! Mother please don't let them touch her, she didn't do anything!❞ The girl sobbed.
How could Lady, an animal so sweet and gentle, bite Joffrey? It was Nymeria who'd nipped at him and even then it was not as bad as the prince claimed! And so Lady was to be punished, with death? The thought both frightened and upset her more than ever. She looked up to Catelyn, tears streaming down rosy freckled cheeks. ❝Please tell them! They don't believe me, they'll believe you!❞
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Peace and quiet did not come easy when your children where of Targaryen descent. They were as bold and as loud as dragons, with presences that commanded respect and attention. But her darling children also shared her blood, were equally dragon as they were stars. ❝Is your hair bothering you, my love? Would you like me to braid it for you?❞ Dyanna's eyes drifted over to her sweet girl Daella across the room from her. ❝Or are you too old for me to do your hair for you?❞
It didn't matter what age her children were; she'd cradle them like they were babes if they needed the comfort of a hug, if they needed her. She knew, however, that she'd have to let them go eventually. They couldn't stay with their parents, the very same way Dyanna couldn't stay with hers and yet the inevitable would not stop her from spending as much time with her children before they grew tired of it all.
@alyafae asked:
❛ We don’t choose our destiny. It chooses us. ❜ / from catelyn
Robb held his mother's gaze longer than he usually would. There had been a time when every answer came easily from her, when Winterfell had seemed large enough to keep every danger beyond its walls. Those days felt distant now. The weight on his shoulders was no longer a boy's burden, and he knew she could see it. A slow breath escaped him before he spoke. "You always taught me that a man should do what duty asks of him, even when he wishes for another path." His voice remained calm, though fatigue lingered beneath it. "I understand that now more than I ever wanted to."
He lowered his eyes for only a moment before meeting hers again. "We don't choose our destiny." The words came without bitterness, only acceptance. "It chooses us." Robb gave the smallest shake of his head. "If I had been given the choice, I would still be riding through the Wolfswood with Bran and Rickon, arguing with Jon, listening to Father's counsel in the Great Hall. But that life is gone." A faint, tired smile crossed his face. "I cannot be the son I was yesterday, Mother. The North looks to me now." His expression steadied, quiet resolve replacing the wistfulness. "Whatever fate has chosen for me, I will meet it as a Stark should. That much is still mine to decide."
the grey lady had been unusually ill tempered, according to the dragon shepards, hissing and biting at those who came near even with gifts of fresh meat. rhaella, sweet rhaella, the exception of course, always has been / always will be. vylera chirps at her bonded rider, faning the dust and debree of the dragonkeep with the beat of powerful wings. and she lowers before the targaryen with a fondness one would not dare believe possible of a winged reaper. in the pit's dull light shift gentle storm grey into darker tones, only her silver eyes glint in the darkness like pits of fire in the night. ❝ marrying you off, i will not have it, to daemon targaryen of all people. ❞ the rogue prince's reputation far preceeded him -- and she she-beast did not trust a man with ambitions as wild and unruly as his. and even if it had been someone else; the beast's serpentine tail flickers aggressively. ❝ i will not suffer the presence of any man -- and share you with him. ❞
quiet footfalls carry him through the castle not unlike a ghost, black hair and blue eyes so entirely unfit for the royal court. even in the attires of his house, clad in black and red. there are saving graces, the pride of a father, the welcoming gestures of an uncle, THE KING, and a mother. the least thing he ever expected to have.
she is very much like her dragon, rhaegar muses, elegant and kind hearted -- but a targaryen nontheless. claws and fangs remain sharp, fire remains hot, even when seldom used. THAT and, he feels, he owes rhaella respect for accepting him when bastards were spurned so openly. even those who were legitimized, who bore their family's name proudly. ❝ my dreams are troubling lately. ❞ he confesses to her at last.
❝ i remember only passing images, their sense and reason eludes me, but the feelings i remember clearly -- dread and warning. ❞ SOMETHING TERRIBLE IS APPROACHING. slowly, stalking, with glinting eyes in the dark; something spelling death for even the likes of mighty dragons. he dares not tell the maesters, he feels his father would have little understanding for such troubled thoughts -- and he does not know his uncle that well, even if king viserys acted like rhaegar had always been part of this family. ❝ please -- tell me, mother, what is going on inside my head. ever since i claimed nagini. ❞
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the urgency in his tone generates a spike of anxiety in her gut. she's never sure what she sees is relevant and dreads bringing unimportant things to the queen. lord corlys, as her hand, is the best intermediary and by his reaction, perhaps she has uncovered a helpful thread. "just you, my lord." her voice is a whisper, careful to keep her voice from carrying down the drafty hallway. "i was not sure if i should bother her grace with this yet, so i've brought it to you."
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WAAAAH ty sm for even considering me!! ik we're just starting to write, but what we've talked about so far has been so enjoyable!! 🩵 really looking forward to all these fun dynamics. >:)
u should send in "lights, cameras, action!" so i can tell you how ur muse would be introduced in their debut scene in aisling's tv show/movie series (i.e. the build-up, the hints, the music, the little easter eggs) (even if you've already sent it in on the old blog, and even if we haven't interacted yet!) ( ALWAYS ACCEPTING! )
S1 E22: OIDHREACHT. ( TRANSLATION: LEGACY )
this episode is preceded by an advertisement talking about an open day at MIT, which people can get a free guided tour of if they use a specific code from the ad. the episode also sets up the timeline for when the series takes place, we have a sort of timeskip followed by a flashback to the present day, which clarifies a lot of details while also setting up morgan as a key character in the world that we're exploring (i'm fighting marble with my bare hands bc why are they bringing in characters and doing zip with them? dw marble. i'll fix this <3)
so! friday night! the viewers are seated, they have a really good rhythm set up now bc they aren't used to 24 episode seasons anymore, but now they're adjusting, so they settle in with popcorn and maybe some margharitas and hit play. the episode airs!
the opening scene introduces us to a year after tony's sacrifice. the world is locked in celebrations, naturally delighted to celebrate their survival, this major victory over a fate they'd previously deemed impossible to come back from. as the sky lights up with fireworks, parades and parties in full swing across the universe, we are taken to the cabin, where we see little morgan playing with toys in the corner of the room. aisling, pepper, happy, james and alma all sit together in the kitchen. it's clear that they've been here a while, but aisling seems reluctant to leave. small talk drifts, and eventually they accept that they do need to say goodbye, so they do; as pepper is hugging everyone else, aisling sits with morgan, who is watching the hologram that tony made the year before. they sit together in a sorrowful silence, and the scene cuts to black before introducing the opening credits.
now we're in a car, aisling driving quietly down a winding road in the woods. no need for a map; this is a journey she's taken many times, and a road she knows better than herself. her phone pings repeatedly with photos and text messages; people celebrating, dancing, laughing together. aisling afford them fleeting glances, before wearily pulling her phone from the holder and dropping it into the glove compartment with a sharp click as she pulls up to the cabin again. she exits the car, walks to the front door, and knocks twice.
when the door opens, we see a five year old morgan open the door, a bright smile on her face. " aisling! " aisling smiles fondly as the camera returns to her; when it goes back to the door again, morgan is no longer a child, but a grown woman, who steps forward to greet aisling properly with a smile. " mom's just gone for a walk with happy... you want some tea? the burgers aren't ready just yet. "
" yeah, your mam asked me to bring the american cheese. " aisling chuckles, lifting the bag in explanation. the camera cuts; they're now sitting on the porch with glasses of sweet iced tea and some chips and dip. their conversation drifts to a comfortable end, and aisling glances back through the screen doors. " it doesn't get any easier, does it? "
" yeah. well... i guess sometimes, it kinda feels like... people forget what it all cost us. " morgan admits, gazing out across the mirror-like lake. we see a brief, sun-hazed cutaway to a scene similar, wherein tony, steve, scott and natasha stand together on the porch discussing the possibility of time travel. a bittersweet reminder, as the scene returns to morgan and aisling, who nods slightly.
" and yet... if your dad could see this world today, he'd pay the price ten times over. especially if he saw what a wonderful young woman his daughter turned out to be; a woman who'd never exist if not for the choices he made that day. "
morgan smiles sadly, tears beginning to gloss her eyes. " doesn't make it any easier. "
" doesn't make it any less true. god... pepper read this poem back on the tenth anniversary. maya angelou, remember? "
" when great trees fall. " morgan lifts her eyes skywards, closes them, and begins to recite the poem. as she does, we see a series of scenes take place throughout her voiceover. the battlefield kneeling. tony's snap. the funeral. the anniversaries. the firsts, the lasts, and all in between. as she nears the final verse, we watch herself and aisling bid one another a fond farewell, embracing on the front steps, before aisling returns to her car and heads away again, having left white freesias on his memorial.
we watch morgan return inside. tony's helmet, gleaming and polished, sits behind glass, nestled in black velvet. the camera pans around slowly, focus on the helmet first, before refocusing until we see the helmet divide; one half clear and crisp, the other dimming to let us see the other half of morgan's face reflected in her father's helmet.
" they existed. they existed. we can be. be and be better. for they existed. "
screen cuts to a fluid and rapid montage of memories between little morgan and tony, then her youth with pepper, and the life she leads today. the screen cuts to black. the credits roll.
and it's not the last we see of morgan in the series.
