#lastxdragon

@versin-surfin

"I know," Daenerys murmured as she turned from the view overlooking Dragonstone harbor where her fleet were moored. Her gaze took in the somber knight standing only a few feet away, taking in her tall, handsome, near-constant companion with a questioning glint in her amethyst eyes. It wasn't as if she hadn't wondered of the motives behind his devotion sooner, but there had been a great deal of planning and logistics to deal with before their arrival on Dragonstone.

Salty Munday Meme || selectively accepting || @lastxdragon 

Yanno, I can’t say as that’s ever happened with FCs. I’m very picky about face claims and I think that’s why. I don’t generally follow blogs that use FCs when the character already has an established canon face. The only exceptions to that are OCs (obviously) and characters that had about two seconds of screen time.  I don’t follow many book-based blogs that use icons, so that hasn’t even become an issue there. 

Send me a “ 🔥 “ for an unpopular opinion.

1. ghosting people! Like I get muses are fickle and that sometimes you only have muse for like maybe one or two threads that's fine but if you have like NO interest in continuing a thread in the first few replies just SAY SOMETHING! Don't leave the person hanging while you're constantly active every day answering everything BUT that thread and even starting new threads. Like it makes no sense to not have the decency to just say hey not feelin it but lets do something else maybe?

|| @lastxdragon​, cont’d from here ||

He didn’t know why he said what he did and her insinuation left him feeling very vulnerable and foolish.

“Forgive me, my Queen,” he said softly as his eyes trailed down to where she had covered his gloved hand with her own. The hands beneath his gloves were mutilated and ugly, but the crimes he had committed with those hands were uglier still. He couldn’t understand how she could bear to touch him. Nor truly, how he could bear to be touched by her. Yet each touch and warm smile made his heart lighten with something like hope whenever he was in her presence. 

He had come to depend upon it. The words exchanged between them seemed like magic spells that could make the world new- not just the world she envisioned and was bringing to life, but Theon’s own dark world as well. 

I don’t want to lose that, he realized with sudden despair. I don’t want to lose her.

What a jape. He was still as selfish and as stupid as ever, trying to keep Snow from Daenerys. Afraid that she would start to see him through his eyes. The way he truly was. He thought that perhaps she showed him such consideration and kindness because she saw him as similar to the people she was trying to help- perhaps even similar to herself before she walked into a pyre and brought forth her children. But as much as he believed in her and pledged himself to the future she envisioned, he was much more close to the evil she was trying to destroy than the people she was trying to save. He knew that and it sickened him. Snow knew it too. 

But there was still something else. Something not entirely selfish that prompted him to warn her about the north. He gently pulled his hand away from hers and his chest caved in, instinctively retreating from the memories that clawed at him. 

The second Dany was struck a loud yell sounded not only in the force, but inside the Mandallrian Vault. Vader had contained his primal warrior inside an obsidian coloured tool with a window port, to allow him to se Vader destroy Dany, least is what the Dark Lord intended. Torture, one last torture, perhaps to break him to the Darkside perhaps for Vader jsut to feed off his anguished, either way it did allow Galen to tap into power. Starkiller. Galen. whoever he was not at this point the power that came with his screamed only grew more intense.

Fists if lightning and superb strength started to strike the vault, bashing hard enough to bend the meta around his fists to make it all warp to his touch. to make the feat more impressive the vault window started to convey the pale blue light of sith lightning as if he was directing his [power, his force energy into the blows. The metal grew hotter and hotter and then the hinges started to bend and wine from the blows.

Burst forth Galen used another scream to blow the vault door towards Vader as power seeped from Starkiller. Wrapped in a torrent of lightning he summoned forth his lightsaber as he charged at the Sith Lord, unleashing a burst of lightning with one hand that held the might of if he had been doing it with two. He used that as cover to strike across Vader’s chest, damaging his control unit. Blow after blow Galen had Vader on his heels as he singed  his cape, the leather coating and even revealed the cybernetics of his limbs.

Just as he was about to sweep for another strike though Vader rebounded with a deflecting blow and grabbed Galen by his throat, squeezing around the young man as he was lifted up. Vader deflected Galen’s attempts to cut at his hand and the light started to get dim in Galen’s perspective.

Queen Daenerys Stormborn, First of her name. [ @lastxdragon​ ]

            Sitting next to his brother’s sick bed, is a strange feeling indeed, He had been only a few years younger than Loras is now, when receiving his own injury, then his baby brother had come to see him, talked to him, brought a smile on his face, in a way only a child can do. Willas could do Loras no such favors, for he knows the gravity of the injuries, which has befallen his brother. Maces do terrible things to men in armor. And burning oil do even worse things to a handsome face. 

            He had promised himself not to pity Loras, he knows as well as any how Pity is the sharpest blade of all. But his little brother had suffered so much at too tender an age. Delicate, scholarly fingers, brush away golden curls form a sweaty brow, the fever burns hot in the king’s guard still, it serves as evidence of a man fighting to defeat the sickness within. 

"Never told you where I got it... did I? You’ve been kind enough not to ask. Most folk think it was some foul monster... which is fair enough, given my profession. I wish to Melitele that it were so. Would have been kinder for everyone involved...”

Eskel’s deep, calm voice murmured back to the silver haired young woman, yellow, bestial eyes closing partially, relaxing, at Daenerys welcome touch on his mutilated features. A gentle, warm touch... like the way she looked at him. When she looked at him, it wasn’t with fear, horror or revulsion... never had been since he met her. There was only care and concern there... and relief that he had made it back to her in one piece. His broad arms rose and enfolded around her, their exposed forms on the bed of their quarters on the Wall intertwining. The heat of the fireplace and of hers both as welcome as ever. His own fingers rose, stroking through her long strands of hair, and rubbing along her bare back slowly, appreciating her perfect form. Leaning in and pressing another slow, tender kiss to her lips, tasting her, showing his gratitude. After surviving what he had Beyond the Wall... it was only right she know who and what he was... who she was getting involved with, here. Especially after their rather passionate reunion when he had returned... and, if when all this was over, she still wished to remain with him. More importantly... he wanted to speak of it, to share it with the Queen.... knowing she could be trusted with it. She had already shared a good deal of her own experiences with him as it were. It was only fair... and only right. Looking back into those violet eyes he had become so fond of, he contemplated her, and the memories of the past. Daenerys was no stranger to painful decisions and actions, regrets of the past... he hoped she would understand his own. Though if she despised him for it, she could not hate him more than he did himself already. Beginning to speak of his mistakes gradually, taking his time with it. Speaking words he had never spoken to another... the other Witchers had been kind enough to never bring it up to him, since it had happened. It was enough that he’d had to live with it for as long as he had... a punishment he deserved. He was glad Wolf had learned from Eskel’s mistakes, at least... had not repeated them when he had been likewise bound to Ciri, as Eskel had once been to Deidre.

"There’s an old custom in my land, born of the belief in Destiny there, called the Law Of Surprise. If you claim it as a reward for a service rendered or saving someone’s life, they will owe you the first thing they they have but do not yet know of when they return home. Can even apply to living things, horses, dogs, people... pregnancies. Children Of Surprise, bound to the one who claims the Law by destiny. Many children were recruited that way, back in the day, for the Witcher Trials, at each of the Schools when they still functioned. Lambert, the youngest remaining of us, was recruited to Kaer Morhen that way. I was chopping wood in the forests of Caingorn a number of decades back, in my early years on the Path, when there was a commotion. The Prince of Caingorn had been travelling through those woods on a hunt, when he and his party were set upon by Werebbubbs. Fierce beings. I heard, came running just in time with my axe and killed or drove them all off, saving the Prince’s life. He offered me anything I wanted... especially gold. I should have taken it. Instead... having heard too many of Vesemir’s stories about the Law Of Surprise, I claimed it. Little did either of us know then... his wife was pregnant at the time. With Princess Deidre Ademeyn. I defied destiny, never went back to Caingorn to claim my Child Of Surprise... avoided the city entirely each time I returned to the Path. I wasn’t made to be a father... couldn’t bring another person into the Witcher’s life. That, and even if the secrets of mutations had not been lost to us, the Trials do not work on girls. They were designed for the physiology of boys... by the original founders... Cosimo Malaspina, Alzur and Idarran Of Ulvio, long ago, in the days of the original Order Of Witchers.”

“I thought she was better off in Caingorn anyways, getting a safe, luxurious royal upbringing and education, than being brought to the ass end of the North to a ruined school to live among mutant outcasts. Or so I thought. Destiny’s twisted sense of humor had other ideas in store... turns out she would have been better off at Kaer Morhen. She was born under the Black Sun... some old sorcerer fool named Stregobor claimed those born under it were cursed and fated to be evil, and should be locked up in towers for the rest of their lives or killed. The Council of Mages sent a Sorceress named Sabrina Glevissig to carry out Stregobor’s dirty work within Caingorn’s court... to undermine and examine Deidre. It went about as well as could be expected. Deidre ended up fleeing to Kaer Morhen when she was older... sought my help. To protect and save her from Sabrina, who had pursued her. I turned my back on her instead... chose the Witcher’s life of neutrality... and paid the price of it. Witchers are not Knights... not meant to interfere in the disputes and politics of the nobly born... to save Princesses and damsels from towers and from cruel sorcerers. In another joke at my expense, it was Sabrina herself who saved my life after Deidre maimed me... the one who drove her to insanity in the first place. Who is as responsible for it all as I am. Deidre fled, and became an infamous outlaw leader. I finally took responsibility for her, after I had healed. Two years later... I hunted down her and her band of criminals and put her out of her misery and that of her victims. Burned her body as well, to keep it out of Sabrina’s hands... the mages wished to examine the mutations reputedly brought on by the Black Sun... I didn’t give them the chance. Gave her a Witcher funereal... least I could do for her... for every other mistake I made. Been trying to learn from those mistakes ever since... to stop fleeing destiny... and to do what is right. Like what I’m doing here in this land, against these Others. Fighting at your side, for your subjects. A worthy cause at last. I was brought here for a reason... destiny steered my Path to you. Now I have the chance to do things right, perhaps... to make the attempt, at least.”

| — . ♕ . — |    The shard of dragonglass was cool against his palm. Turning it over, Ardyn admired the unique shade and texture of the obsidian’s surface. How interesting that something that were akin to a mere volcanic mineral could retain such power. He would have never expected such a thing to result. Mortal minds truly were fascinating, especially when it involved finding means to protect their own fragile lives. 

Leaning down, he placed the shard back where he had found it, then continued walking, as casually as though he were enjoying an evening stroll. His clothing was out of place, lightweight and thin, more that of someone who should be walking the sunlit beaches on the peninsula of Dorne, rather than the frigid snow-laden landscape around them. Where he strode, there were not many people present, but those who spotted him watched in confusion. He supposed he could not blame them; surely he was a peculiar sight. Their focus meant nothing to him, however. He was intent on wandering toward something that practically called to him. 

Soon enough, Ardyn encroached upon the resting dragons, watching them with absolute awe. It wasn’t an easy task to truly impress a deity, but if there was one thing capable of doing so with little effort, it was the sight of the miraculous creatures that were believed extinct, never to soar through the mortal world again. Yet, there they were. 

“Look at you,” he whispered praisingly to the nearest one, even as the sound of warning growls rumbled loudly enough to nearly cover the sound of his own voice. Ardyn’s smile was almost gentle, unshaken by the beast’s threats. He wouldn’t draw closer, however. No, he was content to watch from a distance. 

“Such a beauty, you are,” he crooned to the largest. “I would bet that you are quite the handful for your dearest Mother, aren’t you?”