ALYSANNE VI

ALYSANNE VI

Pine needles prickled the bottom of her bare feet, and her toes turned to ice. She wiggled them, but they were stiff and slow. Alysanne took note of her surroundings. The north? How did I get here? She shivered and made to draw her cloak tighter around her shoulders, but it slipped through her fingers and turned to sand. I am dreaming, I must be. She closed her eyes to try and wake herself, but she couldn’t. She opened them again. A dense fog had risen from the ground. She did not recognize these woods. They were certainly not the Wolfswood back home in Winterfell. The woods were dark, but not so dark she could not see. Dark, like Winterfell often was before snow or rain. A beast rumbled behind her and her hair stood on end. Go , her mind told her. She walked into the fog.

The ground beneath her feet grew warm, but the pine needles and woods remained. The smell of smoke reached her nose. The fog was no fog at all. Smoke. Smoke shrouded the woods, but there was no fire, nor was there any glow. She did not cough or struggle to breathe and her eyes did not sting like they did when the smoke from the cook fire blew towards her. She continued forward. The silhouette of a man formed ahead, walking forward with her. “Hello?” she called. The man did not turn or stop. She walked faster and drew closer to him. She could see the shine of golden armor, and soon could make out golden hair not unlike her own. “Father?” she asked tentatively. The man stopped and faced her. It was indeed her father, as she had left him in King’s Landing when she was a girl. Age had not touched this version of him. Hope bloomed in her chest. He’ll keep me safe here. She reached for him and he smiled, but before she could touch her hand to his, he turned to ash and blew into the wind. “No,” she screamed. The beast rumbled once more behind her and the smoke grew thicker, so she ran.

She slowed once more once the smoke thins. Another figure stood ahead. This one was a woman, and like her father, she did not respond to her calls. Alysanne made her feet move faster and the ground grew hotter beneath her. Unlike her father had, the woman remained out of her reach. All Alysanne could make out was a lavender dress, but even that was a smear through the smoke.

CONTINUE ON AO3

Chapter 21: Iron and Bronze

Pine needles prickled the bottom of her bare feet, and her toes turned to ice. She wiggled them, but they were stiff and slow. Alysanne took note of her surroundings. The north? How did I get here? She shivered and made to draw her cloak tighter around her shoulders, but it slipped through her fingers and turned to sand. I am dreaming, I must be. She closed her eyes to try and wake herself, but she couldn’t. She opened them again. A dense fog had risen from the ground. She did not recognize these woods. They were certainly not the Wolfswood back home in Winterfell. The woods were dark, but not so dark she could not see. Dark, like Winterfell often was before snow or rain. A beast rumbled behind her and her hair stood on end. Go , her mind told her. She walked into the fog.

The ground beneath her feet grew warm, but the pine needles and woods remained. The smell of smoke reached her nose. The fog was no fog at all. Smoke. Smoke shrouded the woods, but there was no fire, nor was there any glow. She did not cough or struggle to breathe and her eyes did not sting like they did when the smoke from the cook fire blew towards her. She continued forward. The silhouette of a man formed ahead, walking forward with her. “Hello?” she called. The man did not turn or stop. She walked faster and drew closer to him. She could see the shine of golden armor, and soon could make out golden hair not unlike her own. “Father?” she asked tentatively. The man stopped and faced her. It was indeed her father, as she had left him in King’s Landing when she was a girl. Age had not touched this version of him. Hope bloomed in her chest. He’ll keep me safe here. She reached for him and he smiled, but before she could touch her hand to his, he turned to ash and blew into the wind. “No,” she screamed. The beast rumbled once more behind her and the smoke grew thicker, so she ran.

She slowed once more, once the smoke thinned. Another figure stood ahead. This one was a woman, and like her father, she did not respond to her calls. Alysanne made her feet move faster and the ground grew hotter beneath her. Unlike her father had, the woman remained out of her reach. All Alysanne could make out was a lavender dress, but even that was a smear through the smoke.

CONTINUE ON AO3

@fandomaestheticnet villain event → cersei lannister; game of thrones

Oh, shut up, you little fool. Praying for the gods to have mercy on us all? The gods have no mercy, that’s why they are gods. My father told me that when he caught me praying. My mother had just died, you see. I didn’t really understand the concept of death. The finality of it. I thought if I prayed very very hard, the gods would return her to me. I was four.

“i’m heading to bed, goodnight ☺️”

me in bed:

Nothing is sexier than the DUNE books asking you to understand crazy sci-fi jargon in the first paragraph, like bene gesserit, muad'dib, mentat, arakkis, melange, and quizat haderach and then after reading all of that shit that makes no fucking sense, you meet our main character: Paul.

PEDRO PASCAL as Oberyn Martell ☀️ GAME OF THRONES (2011-2019)