WilliamTheGirl
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Father had warned Daenys to stay at Summerhall. Had warned her to do as he bid and temper her drinking and stop acting a fool. It was her own fault that she was being sent to Dragonstone as though she was a misbehaving child in need of a keeper.
But that did not ease the dread she felt at being stuck on an island with the man she'd once thought she would wed and the woman she'd dreamt of before they'd ever met. Did not ease the creeping sensation that something was coming for their family as her sleep was haunted by the image of a great dragon being felled.
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Victoria nodded, her hand tightening on the strap of her pink tote bag as McKay smiled down at her with pretty blue eyes and slightly messy hair. Behind her navel, a familiar fluttering took up, like a million little wings were taking flight in her stomach. Dread climbed up her spine as she realized what the fluttering meant.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, pounded in her head like a drum. The word hit the inside of her skull with all the force of a hammer, over and over and over again.
Because if a crush on Mateo had been silly, one on Dr. McKay was fucking idiotic. But the attention felt so nice. And when McKay was murmuring instruction and praise into Victoria’s ear, she felt so much more in control than she usually did.
And, really, there wasn’t much more Victoria wanted than just a little bit of control.
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I am the Same, I'm the Same (I'm Trying to Change) by WilliamTheGirl for smashedapple
Fandoms: A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms (TV)
08 Apr 2026
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He’d dreamed the night before of a dragon laying over the top of him, pinning him to his front so completely that he could hardly move. But it had not been like when he had seen his uncle’s death in Ser Duncan’s arms, dreadful and foreboding and dark. He only knew that he had been unbearably hot, and that—strangely—the smell of orange blossoms had been choking him.
Daeron knew what he might like for the dream to mean, when the smell of flowers had been taunting him for days. That and the feel of Valarr’s shoulder beneath his hand. That and how soft Kiera’s skin had been against his fingertips. But that was no promise, he knew. For all that his dreams came true, his wishes rarely did.
𖤓𖤓𖤓
A week at Summerhall before they forced themselves to King's Landing with the weight of Baelor's death on their shoulders was likely to be for the best. A chance to grieve silently, before being forced to do so with the court. A chance to breathe, maybe, for the first time in a week. A chance to find comfort in one another, no matter how foolish it may be.
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"We have a proposition, Helaena. Become our Queen. Mend our broken House."
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Victoria was so good at pretending she didn’t want to touch McKay. So good at pretending that she didn’t want her attention and her smiles and her praise. So good at not even thinking of McKay by her first name, because when she did that, her stomach clenched and her cheeks burned.
But she wasn’t good at any of that when McKay was being tender with her.
Or maybe she just wasn’t good at all.
Because she wanted to lean over and kiss McKay. She wanted to reclaim her birthday for herself by being selfish and stupid. By not ignoring the desire that had been burning in her for months.
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And Zeke smelled so good, like cinnamon and sweat.
𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐇𝐮𝐡. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐙𝐞𝐤𝐞’𝐬 𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥?
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Bookmarked by WilliamTheGirl
31 Mar 2023