The Forgotten Son

Chapter 9: Once Bitten, Twice Shy

A/N: Warning: Intense chapter ahead. Mature version with...more colorful wording will be reposted over on Archive of Our Own.

This IS Game of Thrones after all, so that's to be expected.

We've hit eight hundred, so here we are.

That said, can anyone see this? Seems the site broke again last night *sigh* so I'm not entirely sure this is visible.

I know this story isn't all that popular compared to the rest, but still, I'm fond of it, and since it hit seven hundred reviews, here we are, another update.

If this makes it to Nine hundred -hopefully- I'll update again as promised. I'm still alive, still here, still kicking...for now. Claws of a Lion, Demon of Ashford and Son of the Stag are FIGHTING me.

In other news depression's starting to hit real hard these days. Sometimes I wonder why I do anything at all. I can't claim to understand what's going wrong with my head. I don't even know why! One moment I'm fine, then my mood craters for a few hours, then I'm back again for a bit, and the cycle repeats. Its rather annoying; as though I've become a prisoner in my own mind sometimes. Sure, what's one more mental problem on the pile. Not like I don't have enough, what with already being this old. Feels like every day is a battle sometimes. My doctor is of no help at all.

Take a walk he says, go outside more he says, you'll be fine he says. *siiiigh* Don't bloody feel fine. Maybe I should see someone else...

With my fifteen year anniversary on this site finally here, I find myself reflecting on the little things in life. What was once a lazy pastime meant for me and a few friends really grew and evolved over time. There are days when I look back on the last fifteen years here and I wonder if anyone will remember me; if I made an impact, despite never making a single cent on any of these stories. Some days were happier than others, and some stories I enjoyed writing WAY too much; to the point where I'd stay up all night working on them.

And of course, there are times when I look to the future and wonder what will become of things when I'm gone.

Of course, I try not to dwell on the latter overmuch; I'm still alive and still writing. In an ideal world, I'd like to keep doing so for as long as I can. But old age is catching up to me and these days, the world is filled with so much madness and death. Feels like everyone's lost their minds, the world over. Even before that, so many friends and fellow writers I once knew are gone, now. Will I still be here in twenty years? Ten? Five? Its a chilling thought. But for now, I'm still here, still writing.

Not Q&A for a bit, as someone complained. Ah, well. Can't please everyone I suppose. Trying my best to keep everyone entertained here.

Alight, I've kept you long enough. As ever, I own no quotes, references, quotes, themes or memes!

They're simply tributes to legends far greater than I; an old man who writes as a pastime.

Now, then...Shall We Continue? I do hope you're prepared.

Verbatim for season seven here.

"There is a saying. Once bitten, twice shy."

"I'm afraid I'm not at all familiar with that saying, Lord Oberyn.

"It is an idiom from my homeland; one who has been hurt when trying to do something becomes fearful of doing it again. Some might say that is perfectly natural. We fear that which pains us, even moreso that which we do not understand. But there need be no fear here. I can see it in your eyes. You love my nephew. As he does you. Give him but a chance to prove it, and you won't be disappointed."