MultiFandom Imagines

Matt Smith: Two Face

Imagine filming a fairly violent scene with Matt Smith for House of the Dragon, what happens when you have trouble distinguishing kind-hearted Matt from cruel Daemon:

The scene wasn't supposed to be taking this long, it was supposed to be quick, but the director has us repeating it a multitude of times. Something about it not being as good as it could be. I, honestly, couldn't care less how good it was as long as it was over.

My character, though not the most important, plays a role in how Daemon manages to steal the dragon egg and escape to Dragonstone. I was cast as Rhaenyra's younger sister, Seraena, who had quite the different relationship with her uncle. Where Rhaenyra saw freedom and future my character saw terror. Daemon systematically terrorized Seraena as he viewed her to be unworthy of the Targaryen legacy, unworthy to be the rider of the vicious Cannibal.

Daemon would inflict pain upon her when the option was available, mentally terrorizing her even more-so. These abusive interactions were kept a secret from the rest of the family though, as she was not in the favor of her father or sister. She was alone.

I've been an actress for many years, and oftentimes get stuck in the mindset of my characters, but nothing as severe as with Seraena. I would only notice minor changes, usually just in my vocabulary and way of speaking, but I've become so engrained in this character that it's becoming harder for me to distinguish other actors from their characters. 

The effects are minimal with most characters, but with Matt... His character is so cruel and violent that I just can't help it. If Matt raises his hand or makes any quick movements, I can't stop myself from flinching away, and I know he's noticed it as well. The concerned looks, the way his eyes linger when I step away from him, how I suddenly have nothing to say when he joins my conversation.

I try to work through this, write about it, acknowledge how what I'm doing isn't healthy, that I know Matt is a really sweet person in reality; but whenever I see him, I can't help the urge of wanting to turn and run away. How could he have such a sweet expression on his face one second, and then an empty glare the next?

_______

Fingers roughly grasp the wig upon my head, I can tell he's trying to be gentle, but he still has to make the interaction seem realistic. He had asked me beforehand if I was alright with the physical contact the scene required, I had nodded a 'yes' even though the nausea reminded me constantly how I had wanted to say no.

The scene we were filming has Daemon battering me as a way to gain information pertaining to the dragon egg for Viserys' unborn child. It wasn't the most violent scene to have occurred between our characters, but I would say it was the most emotionally charged. 

Threats of violence slithering from Matt's lips far to smoothly for my mind to distinguish. His hand gripping my neck as his fingers laced through my hair and pulled my head back. He was right behind me, body scarily close as I was sandwiched between him the the stone wall of the castle. I can't remember what I was doing, body running on autopilot; I spoke, but I can't remember if they were my lines or not.

There was a tremor spiraling through my body, settling in my hands as they shakily grasped the hand that encased my neck. Was I supposed to do that? Would they make me reshoot this scene? 

"Cut!" That resounding words echoes through my mind, lights being turned back on to illuminate the area. The many faces of the other cast members as well as the film crew entered my vision. It was a scene, it was a scene. 

The hands were removed as I turned to look at Matt, that cruel emptiness was gone, replaced by his calm face, eyes looking at me with worry.

"Hey, are you alright?" I couldn't respond, as I had already turned away and began to walk hurriedly away towards the bathrooms. My heart felt uneasy, as though the blood being pumped wasn't enough, I felt like I was dying.

I slammed the door shut, leaning forward against the sink as I glared into the mirror. 'You're not her, you're not Seraena, you're Y/N L/N. He's not Daemon, he's Matt! He has never hurt you, this is all for a show.' 

I raise my hand up, touching my neck gently, as though the skin would tear at the slightest contact. The shaking of my hand bringing up an anger I was unsure how to handle. I couldn't contain it, my hands curling around my neck as I glare at my reflection.

My fingers digging into my skin as I drag them down, relishing in the discomfort I experience, but my hands still shake. I hit my wrists against the sink, ignoring the shooting pain as they still shake. Resorting to biting my hand, not letting go until I taste blood. When I release, I let out an angered yell as the shaking continues. I place one hand against the sink and hit it repeatedly with the other, eliciting a crushing sensation that I repeat with the other. 

I had no intentions of stopping, but soon realize that my actions are being hindered. Two hands are holding my own with a firm grip, halting their violent actions. I look in the mirror and see none other than Matt stood behind me, concern emanating heavily from him. He is speaking to me, I know this because his lips are moving, but what is he saying? What words does he think will help me?

I can't help the immense torture I'm experiencing, the tears building within my eyes as the feeling in my legs disappears; I would've collapsed had Matt not been there. My sobs were awful, the pain and confusion filling my mind as I was being held and comforted by a sweet man that I could not distinguish.

His arms were strong as they wrapped around my torso, though they were soft, steady. He had lowered us down to the floor gently, cradling me to his chest as we sat on the bathroom floor. His whispers were calming, though I could not tell what was said. 

Was this man the devil? Was he who I feared yet longed for, the man that could free me from deception? Or am I all that I should fear, do I make my prison with the words I learn, she who lives within porcelain walls that sees enemies in her own reflection?