#stormbcrn

dragons may have fire for their radiance, but lannisters have their gold. and whatever name myrcella bears, she is her mother's blood as well: the golden pelt of a lion is hers much as any other beast's might be. in the torchlight she gleams with it, gold embroidery on crimson fabric, and flecks of real gold woven in besides. a necklace of gold and ruby at her throat, and ruby-tipped pins in the heavy gold of her hair.

the dragons have again returned, and again a lion stands beside them. she wonders what the lions of the past would think of that, yet thought of their approval doesn't linger long. she does not need it. whether or not they would like or dislike, she stands atop a victory she did not have to die for: a place in the dragon queen's new court, born from the ruin of the reign that came before it.

"my thanks, your grace," she says, the proper words dancing on a smile as she links her arm with dany's. "but it is you who shines the brightest tonight, as should be."

tonight daenerys takes the throne before all of westeros, symbolic ascension to showcase the victory already won. for myrcella it has been a labyrinth of secret and strategy, ensuring those who come will not try to spark some new rebellion, pull at some thread of history in seeking to unravel it.

"every house is here and assembled. prince doran of dorne sent his daughter arianne in his stead, and the tyrells of the reach are here in full force. like as not they will try to seek a marriage agreement, or a spot for their daughter in your household before the night is through. we have people all throughout the crowd to...keep an eye upon proceedings there. but i doubt very much we shall see anything of note tonight."

the noise begins to grow as they approach the throne room, the hum of many voices speaking all at once, the sudden breaking-through of laughter. like as not there will be no violence here, and yet she knows they have all come to test daenerys, to see what she is made of. it is from this night that any new plans are sure to spring. a battle they cannot win with targaryen dragons but might with a lion's claws: hidden, for now, until they are needed.

sansa doesn't realize she is thoroughly pouting until the shadow of the targaryen princess passes over her, cool lips gently pressing to the knot formed between her brows. she blinks and her expression softens, initially in surprise and then with a subdued warmth; a muted sigh passes from her lips as daenerys pulls away, raising her head whilst purging the slouch from her shoulders and sitting up straighter in her seat. how long she has been brooding silently over her now - lukewarm breakfast, she's certain she doesn't wish to know. it is a relief no one else had caught her, though the fact she was found out nonetheless brings the faintest tinge of blush to her cheeks.

winterfell is filled with ghosts, but sansa is not the little girl she had been before she ventured south, before everything went wrong. she has little time to dwell on that, the threats which loom on both northern and southern horizons; dragons flood the skies as if plucked directly from stories. it seems the only truths stories hold are its monsters.

@stormbcrn said: ❛ tell me what you want. ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 undeniably possessed of the beauty that those of their blood are known for. That alone would be enough to wake his desire, but to seduce her back when they first met, would mean to RISK far more important matters than his lust. That is, if she were to even reciprocate any advances he might've attempted. Now, however—Their mutual UNDERSTANDING has brought the two closer. Vaedar is the son of an ancient valyrian house, one who once rode dragons before the Doom, and survived in secrecy and isolation thanks to MAGIC. When the last of the dragons died, that magic dwindled and eventually slumbered, accessible only to those with vast knowledge in the higher mysteries. Not long ago, that magic reawakened with the rebirth fo DRAGONS.

With the intent of aiding Daenerys of House Targaryen, the man departs from the partially ruined Old Valyria to Meereen—A trove of once thought lost WISDOM resided in his mind, and more still would be available to the Queen were she DARE the journey to their people's ancestral homeland. In the meantime, he was more than glad to oblige to her inquiries and use of that knowledge he offered, for it allowed him to linger always near. Just engaging in conversation with her brought him DELIGHT, and when their talks began to take a more suggestive turn; Vaedar brazenly fueled them. It did not take much—Roaming glances, smaller distances, caressing touches and evocative words. Never has the man been shy in his pleasure nor in SEIZING what he wants, so it would be no different with Daenerys, more so now that he knows she's not entirely unaffected by his charm.

Putting down the cup of wine, there's a gleam in his violet gaze that's reflected in the curve of his lips whilst he approaches her on the veranda. In the light of the moon under a clear night, she almost seemed to GLOW in that nearly translucent gown, looking the part of a goddess that beckoned to be WORSHIPPED. Although the valyrian is not a pious individual, he's more than willing to make an exception for her.

❝ You ask what you already know the answer to, ❞ He uttered with a hidden smile when standing behind the Targaryen, both of his hands lifting to perch upon her hips. Long fingers traced the curve of her waist, dragging the fabric of her dress higher along but it was to her hair that one of them shifted, to move silver-gold and expose a shoulder. Slightly parted lips brush on the flesh with the ghost of his WARM breath leaving a trail higher to the side of her neck. The hand that remained by her waist slips around to her front, inching tantalizingly LOWER.

❝ Rawr, rawr, rawr ! ❞ He crows, giggling.

prompt: found family prompt.

Dragons, Shireen thinks to herself, like the ones from my bad dreams !

Yet not, at the same time, because the three dragons ahead of them do not look as though they had been carved from stone. Indeed, upon arrival, she first noticed one of a pale cream color. She would never have noticed the golden streaks were it not for the sun: its glare made the dragon look aglow. 

Shireen tilts her head back, flickering her gaze from one dragon to the other with wide eyes... which widen further when she meets the gaze of one, and it startles her so that, with a gasp, she hurriedly takes shelter behind Daenerys, hiding from it. 

Which one was it ? Before hiding herself from view, she saw green — a distracted glimpse of it. Daenerys’ voice draws her from her thoughts, prompting Shireen to once more tilt her head back, looking upward towards her — and a smile begins to appear, see ? There, at the corner of her mouth ? Her words have reassured her, and not a little !, and have also reminded Shireen of her presence. Should anything happen...