Beacon of Light & Magic

Hermione tugged anxiously at the neckline of her dress, frowning as she recalled her brothers reassuring her it was perfectly acceptable for highborn ladies and royalty.   Still, when she first tried it on and seen herself in the mirror, she had been appalled at how low it plunged, practically showing her cleavage! While she might be a petite woman with equally small…breasts, it didn’t mean she didn’t have a generous bosom and the dress certainly showed off that fact, to her horror.  As she made to tug on it again, a large hand settled over her much smaller one, stopping her movements.  “You look beautiful, little sister,” Oberyn said gently but firmly. “Martell colors suit you as well as this dress. Stop worrying and enjoy this day for it is all for you, Hermione Martell, Princess of Dorne.” Curling her fingers with Oberyn’s, so they were now holding hands, her amber eyes shining with emotion, the little witch spoke softly. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to seem ungrateful aft...

“Ned! My lord, we need to talk.” Going still, dread filling him as he turned to face his wife, Ned waited impassively for her next words. “I received a letter from my father and got some rather...interesting news. Apparently the Martells have another sister who just came home and they wish to celebrate with a tourney. Not only do I think that rather suspicious but isn't it fascinating that the Princess goes by the name you once called me when we were in bed, working to have a heir?” When Ned just continued to keep quiet and his face like ice, Lady Cat hissed, “She's the one, isn't she? She's the one you love so much you don't want to talk about her and I even bet she's the mother of your bastard which is why you insist on raising him alongside our trueborn children! Because he was all you had of her when she for some reason took off and left her bastard with you!” “Is that true? Is my mother a Princess Father? Was she so ashamed of me that she gave me to you?” F...

Winterfell, Lord Stark, Warden of the North Staring down at the letter in his hand, unable to believe his eyes, wondering if this was some sort of trick, a wonderous wishful trick, Lord Eddard reread it again, this time more slowly, as he tried to process what it was saying.  “My lord”, his Stewart, Rodrik Cassel inquired. “Your lady wife wishes to see you.”   Lifting his head to look at the other man, Ned said simply, “Tell her not right now, Rodrik. I am busy…” Bowing to his lord, his Stewart murmured, “Yes, my lord, of course.” Striding away, he left Ned to once more stare down at the letter on his desk.  Then, picking it up again, he hungrily scanned the content that had both shaken him to the core and at the same time, filled him with a painful surge of hope… It is with much joy to announce to all the People of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, that Her Royal Highness, Princess Hermione, of House Martell has returned home. Thus in celebration, the Princes of Dorne shal...

“By the Seven,” Doran breathed, as he stared in shock at the young woman seated at the high table, in the exact spot Elia once had sat.  He and Oberyn were of course shamelessly spying on her, through the spyhole that overlooked the great banquet hall all from the comforts of his study room.   Having left Hermione, Aurelian and Adara to eat in peace, Oberyn had then promised to come back to retrieve them once they were done eating. Then he had gone immediately to find his brother, to tell him of the miracle the Gods had graced them with.  “She looks just like Mother and Elia, of course but the curls and the eyes, that’s all Mother’s…And you said her name is Hermione?” Nodding his head, taking pleasure in seeing Doran’s amazement, as it had first mirrored his own reaction, Oberyn said eagerly, “Yes brother, which is I why I believe…no I know she was given to us by the Gods. It’s like a piece of Elia and Mother had been given back to us after all they’ve taken from us…Only ...