#eveycomesundone

Tagged: @eveycomesundone​

Disclaimer: This thread has to do with mental health. It also includes lighting things on fire in a fireplace. Viewer discretion is advised.

“Evey? Doll?” Kit asked, “Are you okay?”

Helaena glanced around cautiously as she was led into Dragonstone, Targaryen guards were on either side of her, but neither was on her side. They were loyal to her half-elder sister Rhaenyra, and most likely saw Helaena as a threat. She supposed she was a threat, but not an intentional one. If anything Helaena's mother had made the two sisters enemies. Alicent was desperate to stop Rhaenyra from ascending the Iron Throne. So set on it in fact she had convinced Aegon to take the throne for himself and had him crowned king as soon as their father died. But Helaena did not share her mother's beliefs. In fact, both she and Aegon believed that the Iron Throne was Rhaenyras' by right. It was what their father wanted, and Helaena viewed her mother's actions as a betrayal, not only to Rhaenyra but to Viserys.

Helaena had come to Dragonstone to tell Rhaeynra of that very fact, and to bend the knee. She had slipped away during her brother's coronation, not having attended the event, and taken her dragon, Dreamfyre, and gone to Dragonstone. An action she knew was a risk, but she hoped her sister would grant her mercy.

Dean grinned at her and nodded. "Sounds good to me, what do you want to do for Hallowen anyways? We could decorate pumpkins, toliet paper some trees, go to a haunted corn maze. Go to a haunted house!" Dean liked going to the lame ass haunted houses and making fun of them.

The small town had thrown a feast to help celebrate their new bonded alliance to Kings Landing. It was the night before he was set to take off and it was all a party here.

He was sitting watching all the towns folk dance and be merry. His hand fiddling with the knife on the table as the young women who had shown him around leant over and whispered in his ear.

Send a “Confess” for how my muse feels about yours.

Presit was almost late for his train. He had taken a stagecoach, which should have been the fastest way to get there, but a wheel hit a loose rock hard and a crack formed in an axle. They had to move much more slowly than they otherwise would have.

He was one of the last passengers to board, several pieces of luggage being toted around by a uniformed railroad employee. As a small case was slammed into a door frame, just as the steam engine started moving forward, the man began yelling in German at the teenager. 

“Be careful with that, clumsy idiot!” he shouted, suddenly shifting to English. “I have delicate items in there.” Presit sighed and slid off his round spectacles, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe off the lenses. “I’d like a car to myself, please.”

The porter looked confused. “I’m sorry sir, ah, we have quite a few people travelling and every one has passengers in it.”