jaerim.

          it’s the real reason why she’s even retracing a path full of memories, full of stinging jabs to her insides that she was never trained against. in a meeting not so long ago, she eagerly took on the challenge, telling her parents that she would once and for all end the hunting party against him. she would take him out herself, no matter how long it took.

          having acted on a whim, she realizes coming to the base of the mountain is an unlikely spot to even begin her search. why would the spot she used to meet her sister at be important to him? to the person who clearly ended up never caring about her or her sister? she’s continuously grasped at straws to even begin to understand any of his actions, and every time it only brings lava to her veins.

          yet it’s this magma that brings hayoon to the base of the looming mountain, scarred with  history. she tilts her face up to the summit, feeling the mist gloss over her face, inhaling for what she hopes will be a sense of calm to the unusual nerves residing within her. and then, her ears pick up footsteps. a rustle. and immediately she’s gripping the dagger holstered at her side as she whips around toward the noise, approaching slowly. she smirks to herself, a dry breath of a laugh escaping.

          “ look, whoever you are -- you’re doing a terrible job right now, ” she declares to the figure she spots, cast in shadow. she doesn’t register the familiar frame she’s taunting. “ if you’re looking to pick a fight, i’d be happy to send you running. ”

❝ please, just for one night, will you lie down next to me, we can leave our clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up. ❞ (for canon barri)

fallesto: continued from x

Would it be cruel if he turned and left her? She had already poured her heart out to him and he had remained still as a rock and did not answer her cries to him. She had come to him with her heart in her hand and he had coldly turned his back on her. He had his reasons, countless that he believed were honest and true. He had told her once and would not tell her again. What she felt for him would pass in time, it was a fleeting moment and nothing more. Young love that was placed upon him by mistake for the adventures they have had and the long journey they had shared.

The hour was indeed late as he glanced down. He was tired, so tired. This ruling as hand of the queen was more tiring to him that any formal training ever was. He wished he could be out there again, in the streets shoulder to shoulder with the men patrolling at there side and if not with them - then out further with the search parties that have been sent out to find the queen. Anywhere but here would be more ideal, but he was hand of the queen and his duty was to rule in her place.

“You must have gotten lost on your own way to your chambers, again. Next time I will make sure you have an escort so you find it this time.”

He slowly would shake his head from side to side. She would not leave his chambers and he was not going to force her. Her request was innocent enough and it would only cause more harm to her, giving her mixed signals and confusing her feelings, but he was tired, too tired to argue with her again and make her cry before sending her away. He would walk forward and do as she asked, he lay down on the bed beside her, clothing on as he just stared upwards.

@fallesto (Barristan)

She had hated herself even as the words left her mouth. It was nigh pathetic, coming here and practically begging -- when he’d already been more than clear that he did not return her feelings for him -- begging for just a small piece of him, whatever he was willing to give.

Like a dog whining for table scraps. 

She’d come to hate this place -- the strange food, the unrelenting sun, the language that she still struggled to grasp. The Yunkish armies were at the gates, the trade ships had been blocked from coming in and out of the bay, and the Sons of the Harpy were wreaking havok within the city walls. The city had been just barely kept under control when Dany was ruling, and now that she was gone -- it just seemed hopeless. For the first time since leaving the Riverlands, she wondered if she had made a grave mistake.

It had not helped matters that she had alienated her only friend in this place, to have put herself in a situation where the only person she could seek comfort from was the one who had broken her heart in the first place. 

She held her breath as he chided her, and waited for the inevitable -- he would tell her to return to her own room, he would tell her he didn’t want her here. But even as he shook his head, he walked toward her, and lay stiffly on the bed beside her, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t know which would have been worse, being ordered out of the room, or this, having him so resigned, only here with her because she’d left him no other choice. 

What was the saying -- you made your bed, now lie in it?

“I must do your hair one of these days,” Talia insisted, relaxing into the comforting touch of Danerys’ fingers running through her hair and undoing the braids she had weaved in this morning. She had not allowed anyone else to do so since her mother, not like anyone ever asked. Talia toyed with the hem of her skirt, twirling an edge between her fingers. “When you spoke to that man today, what did you say to him? I’m not versed in knowing multiple languages like you. I had only been taught the common tongue.”

“I’d adore if you did. Missandei is good at it, of course, but I’ve always thought Northern braids were beautiful too.” Her touches were gentle as amethyst hues flickered over the stilled frame of the female, a small smile crossing her lips at the question. It was true the dragon Queen spoke several language – how could she not? Many of her armies did not speak the common tongue, and those who did were not particularly affluent in the skill. “I was speaking dothraki to him. I asked him if he had ever seen snow before.” For a moment, she watched the female. “I can teach you a little if you wish.” // @fifthbornforrester