Poetry
Would it be Turgon’s potions or traditional faint cut under a throat that is blessed by Star Queen Varda of King Manwe on the Holy Mountain? Hm, the tradition holds, even when it is severe and must bleed you well. Still, she must be prepared. Mentally and physically for such a trial. Metamorphoses which are binding and bonding, but they are staying the same, even when each pore is changing. In the end, more or less, Elves are forceful and possessive, once you are theirs, there is no more the apparent freedom which they allow, till the moment when even holy house is sanctified, and holly is greening the barren spots, thus Hill House, the highest height of them all, even from 7 realms, seas and narrow oceans, across hills and cliffs, stands unchallenged by most. It shall return all what wronged, to bathe them in mud with what they struck at, just like God Elf once did.
The teaching had begun in the most light, and subtle ways. Just like Caraxes, in the way they like it or favor it, not like the rest of animals, they will dance, they will do their catwalk, and they shall show off with the permission to pass the Ice Wall and do their Dance of Dragons, like they did above the Winterfell’s skies, filling each cleft, once in a lifespan, people saw how Dragons fought during Dagor of Dagorath that has promised more to come. In this way, the last Citadel in the Far East is held by the House of Martell, the Dornish people, the people of Dorn who knew nothing but the rues of day, they knew to enjoy life still. And isn’t it, profound? To see the King who leads his battles alone, for no one fought like Jon Snow, and no one ever will, not like God Elf, or the fellowship of the Wolf. Remember, there are the signs on the roads, and only those who are willing to follow them, through all hardships and strains, they will see the end of the line, of all Founts of Graces and Life, they will see the Youth and they will find the truth, and at the finishing conclusion, there shall be Source of all what you are, and when you know it, then, leave one seat empty, always by the fire, that one seat, is reserved for the one who tells stories, it is for the Storyteller, yes, you will discover your own story within the stories.
And that is more than even Death can offer renaissance.
She is being led by her Lady Hand, through the waters of the crimson corridors, where every lantern was the gleam and the glinting burners were burning with the regardful esteem, it was flooding with the light and Lady Hand knew where to take her, there was no escort, although they were flanked from all sides, with the guards and guarding custodians, women and men alike, with the defenders, with the exalted knights and elevated Dames. Everything was decorated and ornamentally bedizened. Dressed up and even the Walls and each stone had a story to tell. She could breathe through all of it, it wasn’t stifling or oppressive, their venting systems were the clustering threads of tunneled pore like crevices, and through it, the freshened air is staying, durable and persisting.
Maze after maze, up and down, or it was too high, but with the hedgerows which were splendidly made to last. She could lean her feminine arms onto it, everyone was turning their heads at them. So, it was true, the Young Mistress of Lady Hand has arrived, and she might not have the influence or power as any Elf, but she may set courses in another direction, by impacting the one whom will bed her. In the end, it was such a long loving wish, that the whole Hill House, the middle towns, the shadows of the court cities of Lady Hand, the farm lands, the respected hand working Elves, the educated humans in all other matters by choice, born or captured or willed, and the village valleys were in the thrilling state of the long needed jolliness which they were leaking to close lands. There was no mouth that didn’t rumor it, nor the head that already didn’t know. Nina of a Masquerade Ball is here with them.
- Why is there such a noise? – It is about you, dear – her warrior hand is on the small of her back, and the high heels of blitz boots are clicking upon walking, her Dragon Helm of Bat Wings with the waving red Plume was her guardian of the face, reflecting and ridging her at the hilltop they were using as the downhill to the nether regions, she was adoring every moment, she can already see herself how she knows some passages so well, and the others she will learn about through ages, and probably, she will never know all that the Hill House has to proffer. When, all of a sudden, the entirety of the flocking and bursting life was evinced before her. There were even some people who wore gags.
- What is that for? Why are they doing their chores with the… - It is what they chose. – Really, and we cannot ask them, human beings? Oh, you may read them even when their tongues are sealed, but I cannot, right? – No, no, you do not understand – she didn’t seem flustered or in any way agitated with it, she knows what disturbs Nina, those were talked ill-famed gags, the half faces were masked in the elastic coverings, and they looked straight at you, as if they were waiting for their speech to be returned, otherwise, they were fed intravenously with all the nutritious nutrients, and so, what was this all about while they were doing their menial duties, slaving themselves – they tried to kill their lives, suicides – ah, Nina did figure it out. – This was their punishment? – Tongues are easy to bite on, and they have no sharp weapons, nothing of the implement to harm themselves any longer. They are ours to blood and fire, and when they serve their sentence, they are free to go ungagged. – For how many years they live like this? – As long as there is the suicidal thought, we beat it out from them.
- So, they go through markets, and people and your hallways, looking like this? – To allay the humility they feel, which there is none, but it is the human thing, they keep themselves, either on the lowest or the upper levels, they even go straight to the higher grounds to feel other wonders or into the belly of the House’s delights. – Still, how many? – Ah, three. – Three years to be gagged? – No, silly. – Three months?
- No, three weeks… - Oh… - You sound disappointed – she nudged Nina – you want some. – No! I mean…do the three weeks take care of the problem? – You have no idea, people learned to talk, they have no other use, except the mouth and till you write it down, you forget what you wanted to say, there is no telepathy and day by day, trust me, it does the work. – You only need to gag them and let them be seen or offer them the shelter, till they do not scull through the rows of woes? – Exactly. – That is, hm, maybe better than the talk. – With the talk, you have no results. This is inhuman, but practical, it works, some even find out their zests for other beauties, better than when they weren’t with the sealed mouth and even live longer than those who are perturbed themselves from within. – Is this aimed at me? – Oh, my girl, all is pointing at you – she ruffles her, and both were laughing crazily, while the gagged people could even smile under their rubber sealers together by glaring eyes. Watching a folding war gown, a waistcoat of tessellated rubies, the breast plated suit of armor, the armguards of gloved hands, and a rolling cape. It was screaming the glittering shine, and the shining of the dazzle. The Lady of War she was.
After her, was left the sparking. Tomorrow, their mouths are unsealed. She could hear, from Dragon Lords and Ladies, how her Lady Hand of the Dragon Queen shall fill her, when the time comes, with the Dragon child, she learns how Dragons never stop growing or aging that makes them strong and the battles ever stronger, how their hides are sharper, and once, she is marked and claimed, immortalized, imprinted and taken, there will be no more blankets, through Dragon Hides she would be warmed, but how so, that the Hill House is so hot as it is back a summer?
- What to do when summer’s spring is back? – Oh, you noticed, it shall be cooled down.
- How is it done? – We sit on the spring tops, which has its personal regular cooling and heating system, natural – the woman’s hand on the small of her back never ceased to be warmish and a bit colder, she was easing her for herself. So, the Dragons could bask in the cold as well. They read the winds, as they are human beings. Asking full submission for the defiance they seek, for compliance with feistiness is what they want to talk with you, ensnaring in the virtue. – Sounds a lot like Winterfell. – We learn from the best – this made Nina smile as she never deemed that it is credible so, the Dragon people do admit when they are bested, only to mold it more originally, well, that is what it means to be styled by the heedfulness.
- Am I going to go unremarked and unnoticed, down into history? – it just came up alone, the grudge, the beast of being seen. It upsets Rhaenys, just how much, human beings are admiring the power and the fame above all else, the breath, the good food, wine and cheer mean less if there is no gain for it, or after the suffering.
- I shall give you family, the security, the beauty, my faith and fealty, my Nina – from Lady Hand, she turns to a desperate woman, and Nina says it to her. – I know I couldn’t have God Elf’s head, even Arya tried, but imagine, if one of us…did it, she was the closest to the fire, but as always, we fail for some reason. The Gods do not heed us, but you, for some reasons which shouldn’t be presumable, but here we are. – Nina, life is the most important…
- History doesn’t remember a life, nor a blood you will birth, it remembers…NAMES. And I believe, that this is how it is going to be, for a long time, I shall suffer for my aspirations to accomplish what no one did, to be denied of the victory and complete triumph which is bestowed so easily to some, and others, with the aim, stay without their goals, and we have to change our ways, to please Gods.
Rhaenys there and then, finally had gotten it. Nina went with the free will, but she knows what was done to her. She was double-crossed. She saw through them all, and mostly, what made her the nastiest, is the power she holds over Rhaenys who was everything what she wasn’t allowed to be and like Milica, will have her revenge served cold against themselves, when it is the least the reason to be called upon. Finding the purpose for which was invited to live this life through. In her blood shall be the imprint, in her fire shall be the smell of hers, so that no one ever makes a mistake to whom she belongs, and just like that, Rhaenys Targaryen, the one who went into the Hellfires of hot furnaces which were the hellish caverns, for the primal Womb, is down on her clothed knees. The one who lost against Jon Snow, who never gave up. Living on. The royal gown is flouncing about, she embraces Nina, from the fine waist down. It was a sign.
- I am yours! Nina. Order me, it shall be as you like, but, I beg you, put glory aside, this space between us, we do for the things to survive and look at me as your sources for your better living. Nina sees that her Dragon Lady was good, very good. She nods and Rhaenys is up, kissing her and loving fast, such passion is blasting the gaps between them, she filled her first with the love. Gleaming never finished its dance, having pride in all what is your stance, even when they have to subdue you not to harm, they will soothe, bound in silk, silenced in diamonds, and lavished. Search for the meaning is meaningful only when you hear words with the will and mind that is your own, not that of the broken and tamed doll with which they have no purport in the gaining. For there was Ormal, once of the Valar and Illuin as another Lamp, the two brought dark and light, before Sun and the Moon, and even silver elder brother, favorite color, or golden tree sister. Twin Trees of Valinor whose art is glorifying and ennobling, for they are hallow parts of each of us, on each painting, in every capital by which all is inspirited, herein lives a realm’s delight!
Laurelin and Telperion…did the coin, flip on the right side?