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gglitch1dd · 3 months

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Blood of my House Pt1

Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader

Context: Eijiro's plan to claim back his family's throne is put on hold when you appear, as the rightful heir. You get on his nerves but you both need to work together in order to get the usurper off your throne. Lets just hope you both don't fall into the stereotype of your house.

Game of thrones inspired- The Kirishimas are basically the Targeryens. Credit given to George R Martin and the mastermind that he is.

Warning: this story deals with topics of cousin incest and referenced incest ( I don't condone this IRL), violence, taboo lust, blood, fire, time period specific misogyny and dragons. So be prepared. No smut... yet.

[P A R T 2] [BLOOD OF MY HOUSE MASTERLIST]

“If we advance our forces forward and take them from atop the valley, we can exterminate at least two thousand of their forces.” Bakugou Katsuki spoke as he moved the figures of black painted dragons that represented the Kirishima army. The blond man stood up straight as he motioned to the large map that was on the table that was in the shape of the continent that was the realm. He looked up from the table at the men that were around the table. “That way we can kill all those fuckers before the moon reaches it’s peak.”

Lord Taishiro Toyomitsu looked to the head of the table. His golden eyes on the man who was the centre of their cause. “Your grace.”

Kirishima Eijiro looked up from where he sat at the head of the table. His ruby eyes looking at the man who had unwaveringly and unquestionably joined his cause before looking around the table. Suffocating ruby eyes that gleamed with a fire so hot behind them. He looked back down at the table. He nodded his head. “Let it be done.” He stated as he stood up from his chair. Immediately everyone stood up, allowing him to leave the room with Katsuki following after him.

Eijiro exited out of the room, moving down the hallway, servants and lords bowing their heads to him as he moved towards his personal chambers. The stone walls of the castle were made out of dark black stone that was said to be burnt from an old dragon that melded the rocks together. Eijiro entered his room, placing down the heavy Valyrian steel sword against a table as he fell back down on a cushioned chair. He let out a sigh as he draped a hand over his eyes. Today was a long day of meetings and strategy.

Katsuki chuckled as he stood at the door. “Should I send dinner to your room?” He asked.

“Please.” Eijiro groaned. “And send for a Meyster.” He stated as he rubbed the side of his head. His eyebrows furrowed as he sat up. “I have a headache.”

Katsuki’s eyebrows twitched but he let out a grunt and closed the door.

Now alone, Eijiro put his head back with a sigh, glad to finally be alone. He didn’t think that leading a war against the Todoroki’s would be so difficult but he couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised. He opened his eyes again as he looked back at the view from the mountain top. The Sunvaile manor was built into the mountains with its village surrounding it. Eijiro never thought he’d ever be here in his ancestral home, at least not leading it as Prince and rightful heir to the throne.

Eijiro barely remember his parents, he only knew of the tragedy that befell on their house. It was a great gathering here to celebrate the birth of King Kirishima Ryosuke the second’s second born, a son, after having had his eldest daughter a few years before. It was a tradition that the Kirishima family had whenever a baby was to be born. Having the babe born in their ancestral home where dragons were said to have first been discovered in this world, was said to be good luck. The parties were extravagant and with such a big house with so many members, Eijiro could only remember faces of people that looked so similar to one another.

However Todoroki Enji, Lord of Turnes, had plotted in secret and assassinated nearly every member of the Kirishima family to ensure that there was not a single person to claim the throne. Fortunately, Eijiro’s mother and father, Lord and Lady of Summersvale, managed to hide him away with a loyal sword that would send him far away so that when the time came he would ascend the throne. The last thing Eijiro remembered of his mother, her hair being the deep red of her house Toyomitsu and not the inherit trait of Kirishima black, and the whispered spell she had cast over his hair.

One of the most noticeable features of Kirishima lineage was the inky black hair and ruby eyes, a pair of traits that never separated from one another. Many of his elder siblings, his father, aunts and uncles had the same trait. A dominant gene that never left. However, the next time Eijiro looked at his reflection in cold water while on the run away from Summersvale, his hair was a crimson red, similar to that of his mother.

Unfortunately the loyal sword that had managed to get him out of Summersvale had fallen at the ends of smugglers and Eijiro found himself sold into slavery at the age of five. He was fortunately bought by the Bakugous, the family that led the BakuLands. He was young and was quickly taught the ropes, making sure to do what he was told as a little errand boy in exchange for food and a place to sleep. However, Eijiro always had an interest in the sword, and that’s how he met his best friend and brother at arms, Bakugou Katsuki.

Katsuki was an annoying little shit, but he was loyal and a good friend. He easily befriended Eijiro mostly because Eijiro was the only boy willing to befriend him other than the son of Katsuki’s former wetnurse, Midoriya Izuku, the bastard. Lady Mitsuki rather disliked Eijiro, not liking the fact that her son had made friends with a servant but it was the most she was ever going to get out of him. Eijiro trained beside Katsuki in secret and served him.

That was until Katsuki’s parents had taken Katsuki and consequently Eijiro as Katsuki’s personal servant, to Summersvale. It happened purely by chance that their hunting party had stumbled upon the caves that the dragons nested in. With a flash of fire, Eijiro trying to save Katsuki’s life, Eijiro was left unburnt and unscathed, however, like a phoenix’s burnt wings, his red a flame hair turned black like ashes. And ever since then, the whispers moved around the realm saying how one Kirishima had survived that night.

Prince Kirishima Eijiro.

Or at least, that’s how Eijiro remembered it.

Eijiro wondered what life would had been like did his parents survive, if that fateful night had not happened. He wondered if right now he’d be surrounded by his sisters, if he would be sitting down having dinner in a hall that was filled with laughter and bright smiles. If he would learn under his father to become the next Lord of Summersvale or whether his eldest sister would have taken the title (unlikely but a thought regardless). He wondered if he’d still be the same man as he was now.

He was taken out of his thoughts at the sound of racing footsteps out in the halls. Eijiro’s eyes flicked to the door before it opened. Katsuki stood there with heavy breaths as he kept the door opened standing in the doorway. “Eijiro, you must come and see this.”

Eijiro’s eyebrows furrowed as he stood up from his chair, grabbing his sword as he did so and heading with haste out of his chambers. Katsuki escorted him out of the room and down the hall. “What is the matter? Is it the Todorokis?”

Katsuki shook his head as he headed towards a window that faced the front of the castle. “No. They bare a different banner.”

“Whose?”

Katsuki motioned for Eijiro to look outside. The setting sun had bathed the tops of the mountains in orange but otherwise darkness was quickly overtaking the land. But that did not stop Eijiro from seeing the banners that were being carried by a hoard of men, soldiers that were heading towards them, close enough to be concerning. At the sight of the black banners that bore the red sigil of a dragon curled up with flames surrounding it like the sun, Eijiro stiffened.

Katsuki sighed as he nodded. “They bare your banners.” He stated.

It didn’t take long before both men made it outside, Eijiro grabbing his clock and throwing it over his shoulders, a black furred mantel resting on his shoulders. It was once his fathers and he had always been shy of wearing it, but he prayed that it would give him strength right now. Both Katsuki and him headed down the outside stairs into the courtyard as the gates were opened to allow the visitors through.

Entering on horseback on a white stallion was a man neither Eijiro nor Katsuki thought they would see again. Katsuki’s eyes widened. “Deku?!” He let out surprised. “You bastard! You’re still alive?”

Sitting atop the stallion was a green haired man with freckles that littered his skin, his green eyes looked down at the blond with an amused glint but a deep dangerous poison brewing underneath. He scoffed as he got off of his horse. “I see you haven’t changed, Kacchan.” He stated as he landed on the ground with a thud as he walked over to the two men. Izuku’s eyes went to Eijiro, his eyes assessing him. It had been years since he last saw the other man. He bowed his head. “Your grace.”

“Izuku, it’s been a while.” He let out offering his hand.

At the sign of friendship Izuku took it with a smile of his own. “It has. Last time I saw you, your grace, your hair was red, not black.”

Eijiro chuckled. “A lot has happened.”

“Indeed.”

“Deku,” Katsuki folded his arms over his chest with a frown. “How are you alive and why on earth are you and your forty thousand men baring up Kirishima banners? Have you finally come to help our cause?”

Izuku hesitated before an amused chuckle came from his lips. “I am here to fight a Kirishima cause yes, just not yours.” He revealed before motioning up to the sky. “Hers.”

Eijiro looked up to the sky, clouds seemingly undisturbed however as he kept looking he noticed something strange moving closer, rippling through the clouds. An odd sound went through the air, a loud roar that sounded different from his own dragon. His eyes widened as a large dark dragon came flying in the air over the caslte. The force of the wind, nearly knocking many back but Eijiro stood his ground.

He noticed a person was riding a top of the dragon as it circled around, gradually getting lower to the ground. Finally, the large dragon settled on one of the thick walls of the castle, made to be that thick due to the dragon claws and weight. The large beast let out a loud roar, snaking its head up to the sky almost in victory at being back home. It ruffled its wings before lowering its head to pear down at the men that were staring up at it in fear.

Eijiro’s men had sort of gotten used to his own dragon, Riot, but that was mostly because she was the only one left. Or so they thought.

Sitting perched on the dragons body was a woman, who’s eyes bore into Eijiro’s like a mirror. Something twisted inside of him, wondering who on earth you were. The dragon lowered his head with a scuttle as you unseated yourself, using his wing to slide down and land on your feet. You were dressed in black, in a jacket and suit that suit you well as you walked forward to stand before Eijiro and Katsuki.

Izuku stiffened and bowed his head. “You stand in the presence of Y/N of House Kirishima, first of her name, eldest daughter of King Ryosuke Kirishima, second of his name, rightful heir to the throne, the princess of skies and speaker for the broken, the unscorched lady of the night.” Izuku introduced as you stood looking at Eijiro unwaveringly.

Eijiro blinked at the introduction. He turned to look at Katsuki. Katsuki looked at him then quickly got the jist. “This is Eijiro.” He stated plainly. Eijiro punched his side. “OF House Kirishima.” He continued with a glare at his best friend. He cleared his throat and motioned back to Eijiro. “He’s Lord of Summersvale.”

You raised a slight eyebrow at the short introduction but it was more in amusement than anything. You chuckled as you looked over at the man in front of you. He was undoubtedly a Kirishima male. The long thick black hair that cascaded down his back like a mane and the burning intense ruby eyes that he had were enough to tell you. “Cousin.” You greeted with a smile.

Eijiro’s eyebrow twitched as he recognised you. Despite having spent years apart, the sight of one of his kin was enough to assure him of your identity. Blood could recognise blood. “Cousin.” He acknowledged. At his acknowledgement, Katsuki looked at him shocked, but Eijiro couldn’t didn’t take his eyes off of you.

“It has been far too long.” You started, your eyes moving over his figure once more. Despite seeing him and seeing what was once your little cousin Eijiro, his size surprised you. He had grown to fill the large disposition that was infamous of the men in your family. Large broad shoulders and a tall thick muscled demeanour. He was taller than any man you had ever seen and carried himself with such prowess. “Last time I saw you, you were but a boy still young enough to be attached to your mother’s tits.” You let out snidely, earning a humeroued smirk from Izuku and stifled chuckles from his men.

Eijiro’s eyebrows twitched. “Last time I saw you, you were but a girl who didn’t have any.” He shot back earning some laughs from his own men behind him.

You stood your ground, your smile not faltering as you looked at him. “We have grown.”

“Yes...” His eyes moved down your figure, your stomach tightening in knots as you watched him. His eyes flicked back up to his face. “Yes, we have.” He joined his hands in front of himself as he glared down at you. “What are you doing here Y/N?” He asked with a furrowed gaze.

You let out a breath. “How about we discuss this inside? It is getting late and cold and I’d rather give my men some rest.” You stated.

Eijiro was silent for a moment but nodded his head. Katsuki gave him a pointed look that Eijiro ignored. “Katsuki arrange for her rooms to be ready. We are heading inside.” He ordered as he turned around and headed inside.

You followed after him, motioning for Izuku to tell your men to set up camp for the time being in case you would have to leave the following day. You and the rest of your advisors headed into the castle. You looked up at the formidable entrance, stone dragons perched near the entrance, the size of young dragons barely able to be ridden yet. You turned to look at your own dragon. He was getting herded away by dragon chamberlains, them speaking to the large beast in High Valeryian. You trusted that he would behave himself and so walked in after Eijiro.

Eijiro did not speak as you followed after him. But you didn’t want him to speak as you looked around the castle halls. It had been so long since you had been back home here, back to your ancestral home. A part of you felt as though you could feel your family’s embrace even though shrouded in the darkness of their demise. You saw a family portrait hanging formidably.

Your uncle Takeo and his wife Yua with four little girls surrounding them and a little baby boy in Yua’s arms. You knew it was Eijiro and a part of you wanted to scoff at the little thing. He seemed like such a brat.

You continued to follow him into a room you were never allowed in as a child. A room where all the men of your family sat, often talking plans when it came to governing the seven kingdoms or when it came to the family. Your eyes looked at the table, the map of all the kingdoms set before you. Your fingers slid on the obsidian marble that was the table in front of you. Your eyes moved to the head of the table where your father used to sit.

Eijiro watched you, how you silently reminisced as you slowly walked through the room. It was quiet as you did so, everyone spectating you. Your eyes moved up to him, noticing how he had moved to sit at the Head of the table. You gave him a tense smile as you sat the opposite end. Izuku took his place beside you and Katsuki stood beside Eijiro.

Eijiro’s hands were joined together in front of him as he watched you with a analytical gleam. “I assume that this visit isn’t a familial one amongst kin.” He started, now that everyone whose ears needed to be in the room, were there.

You hummed as you leaned against the chair you sat in. “Indeed.” You nodded your head agreeing with him. “I heard about your cause all the way in Chalrogo. After some thoughts and talks amongst me and my councilmen, it was decided that the best course of action was to find you and join our causes so that I shall take my rightful place on the throne.”

“Your rightful place on the throne?” Eijiro asked with a scoff as he looked at you up and down. A humoured chuckle left his throat as he did so.

Your eyebrows twitched in annoyance as you sat up. “Do you find something humorous?”

Eijiro nodded his head with a smile. “The fact that you think you belong on the throne, is humorous.”

“And why is that?”

“Why?” Eijiro asked with a scoff. He motioned to you before leaning to the side with his hand supporting him. “No woman has ever sat upon the throne.”

You knew he would say that, every man has said that. “I am the eldest born and only child left of King Ryosuke.” You reminded him. “I have a greater right to sit on that throne more than you.”

“Ah, but you forget, cousin.” Eijiro let out with a tsk as he shook his head. “I am the oldest male of the Kirishima House left, which automatically makes me Head of the family and King by default.”

“Your father, swore an oath to his older brother, my father, that he would be loyal and dedicated to our reign.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you kept your eyes on Eijiro. “Your father owes me that vow and you, as his son, are the only one left to uphold that.”

Eijiro frowned at your excuses. He found them pathetic and rather humerous. He couldn’t ignore the matter at hand that was your new found existence in his life, but this all seemed a bit much for him. Katsuki stepped forward. “Excuse me, Y/N-”

“Princess Y/N.” Izuku corrected with a glare.

Katsuki rolled his eyes at Izuku’s interruption. “Yes, yes, your grace,” He said dripping in sarcasm. “But last time I checked, your brother was born and named heir on the night of the Burnout flame.”

You rolled your own eyes. “Oh please. My younger brother had barely lived longer than an hour before his life came to an end due to the usurper that is Todoroki Enji.”

“At least there is one thing we agree on.” Eijiro pointed out. “You want to join our forces.”

You let out a breath, trying to regain control of yourself and a sound mind. You nodded your head. “The blood of our house is stronger together, is it not?” You asked. “I have 45 000 men and fifty ships ready and waiting at my disposal, as well as enough gold to burn.”

Sero Hanta’s eyebrows twitched as he tilted his head. “How much gold?” He asked.

You glanced to Izuku. He nodded as he turned to the door and opened it, allowing two of your armed men to carry in a chest filled with gold. The chest was brought down on the floor with a heavy thud, coins already spilling out of it. Eijiro and his men had wide eyes at the sight of it.

“I have fifty of those.” You revealed bluntly.

Eijiro was silent as he looked from the chest over to you. He wondered what on earth you had been through and what you had done in order to have such power at your back and call.

“Your grace,” Both him and you had turned your heads to look Toyomitsu Taishiro. He looked to Eijiro with an earnest look. “Joining your forces under one banner would give us the advantage. A hundred thousand men strong would be enough to defeat the Todorokis with the right plan.” He acknowledged. Eijiro’s eyebrows furrowed but he listened. He owed this man, his uncle, his life and a lot more. He trusted him. Taishiro turned to look at you. “Besides, your house must be united now more than ever. And forgive me for saying, my princess,” You smiled. “But you look just like your mother. Even now.”

You smiled gently at the complement. You nodded your head in gratitude. “Thank you, Lord Toyomitsu. My house will always be grateful for the loyalty and fealty to us.”

“Yes, my nephew has told me.” He acknowledged as he motioned to Eijiro.

Eijiro frowned as he looked over at you. Here you were, sitting in front of him almost as if you dropped out of the sky. Eijiro was not sure what to do. He let out a grunt. “I think it is obvious that together we are stronger than divided.” You nodded at the obvious. “Then I agree. We will work together to unseat King Enji from the throne.”

“Then who will sit on the throne?” One of your advisors, Lord Aizawa Shota asked as he leaned back in his chair tiredly.

You turned to look at Eijiro and he stared at you right back. You forced a smile to your face. “I think we can determine that like adults, can’t we, Eijiro?” You asked with a smile that Eijiro wanted to pull off of your face.

He nodded curtly. “Of course. But please, we shall show you to your rooms and we can eat dinner together, as one.” You nodded your head as you stood up from opposite him. All of your men stood up and followed you out of the room, followed by a servant that was summoned by Katsuki. Once you finally left Eijiro let out a groan as he leaned back and dragged a hand down his face.

“So…” Kaminari Denki started lowly as he tapped his fingers on the table. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that she looks like every man’s best dream?” He asked openly.

Eijiro glanced at the blond man with a glare which quickly shut Denki up. He wasn’t wrong, you had grown a lot since he had last saw you. You were a woman now. In every shape of the word and it haunted him. Suffocatingly so. You were smart, he could tell by the arsenal you had behind you but you were also beautiful and deeply aware of it too. He could tell by the way every single man in the room was unable to look away from you.

“This could be a trick.” He let out lowly as he thought about every possible scenario.

“If so, she’s a very needed trick.” Sato acknowledged, his arms folded over his chest. “She comes with men, ships and a hefty sum to her name.”

Commander Hounddog nodded his head with a low grunt. “She’s perfect to your cause, your grace.”

“But then comes the real question…” Taishiro started as he adjusted his seating, minding his large belly as he did so. His golden eyes moved to Eijiro and the younger man knew that he was going to say something that would make the entire room uncomfortable. “Are you going to wed her?”

Eijiro let out a loud laugh at the thought. “Wed her?!” He asked motioning to the door. “She’s my cousin!”

“Yes but… It’s kind of what your family does.” Sero let out with an awkward smile. “You’re a Kirishima, she’s a Kirishima, you both have blood that stems from a time of old magic and dragons.”

“It would solidify your claim to the throne.” Tetsutetsu recognized earning hums from around the room.

Eijiro scoffed as he stood up from his chair. “Oh please! That’s appalling. I don’t have to marry her in order to stake my claim. My mother was not a Kirishima and I have the same claim as she does!”

“But that is because your grandfather, King Shinyo first of his name, wanted to cement the ties between our two families.” Taishiro reminded his nephew with a pointed look. “But your grandparents were both from House Kirishima, her parents were both Kirishimas.”

Katsuki nodded with a hum. “Siblings in fact.”

Eijiro glared up at the blond. “You are not helping!” He told his best friend. “If marrying a woman is so important, fine I will do so, but it damn well will not be her! My blood is thick enough to not need her for anything other than her assistance to the throne. By the end of the season cycle, I will be seated as the next king of the realm, whether she likes it or not.”

-Glitch1d

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hopelessromantic5 · 5 months

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Merthur Drabble

Essentially, Gwen and Arthur have told everyone they're in love when really they both have feelings for people they assume they could never have.

Merlin had never run so fast in his life.

He was dodging worried looks from other servants in the halls, ducking under strings of garland being hung in the corridors and accidentally knocking trays to the ground but not having the time to apologize.

He ran so fast his lungs were having trouble catching up.

He’s running because something is wrong.

He was in the Great Hall with George, finishing preparations for the ‘big feast’ in honor of the ‘big news’.

He’d just finalized the food when he felt it.

Something deep in his chest caved inward. Forming a dark hole.

And he heard it. His own name being shouted by that voice, almost exactly the same as he’d heard it a million other times, but this one was panicked, scared.

It came from nowhere near him, it may not even have been a real noise. But it echoed in the manservant’s mind.

It was his King.

Something was wrong.

He ran before he could even think twice, dropping the lists, trusting George to gather them.

Oh gods, what is it? Is he dead? Please don’t let him be dead.

He’d never felt anything so hollow before. He knew it was Arthur, but he didn’t know what could’ve caused this damage in his own castle with Merlin’s own wards (unknowingly) protecting every square inch of the keep.

Merlin arrived at the right corridor gasping for air, but not stopping.

The door to the king’s chambers remained open, the manservant halted before he approached as he heard voices.

Arthur and Gwen.

“Shouldn’t they be more…I don’t know…bright. Happy.” That was Arthur.

“Arthur, every wedding that’s been held here for the last century was bathed in red and white. It’s tradition.” She scoffed a little but even Merlin could hear the sweet smile she accompanied with it.

“Of course.” Arthur trailed off, distantly. The deep dark feeling tugged at Merlin’s chest again, so hard that he had to close the few feet between he and the King’s chambers. If only to ensure that Arthur was, in fact, alright.

Merlin stood in the doorway, finally seeing Gwen at the desk, sorting through papers (the ones Merlin had just organized the way Arthur wanted them last week) and Arthur standing by the cupboard, leaning against it, more like.

The King was already staring at the open door when Merlin walked in front of it.

Their eyes met, and all at once the feeling in Merlin's chest dulled to a small ache. Closing up, for now, but still throbbing like a bruise.

Arthur sent him a small smile before blanking his face and officially greeting him.

“Merlin.” Causing Gwen to look up too.

“Oh, hi Merlin! How is everything coming along?”

The manservant finally forced himself to move into the room but only a few feet.

“The preparations are nearly finished.” He gave her a small bow of his head and a forced quirk of his lips. Still feeling odd and uneasy.

Arthur seemed to sense it, or maybe Merlin has that look on his face because Arthur asks with the most sincerity Merlin thinks he’s ever heard from him,

“Is there something you need?”

No venom, no insults lurking just behind. He was genuinely asking if Merlin needed anything.

“No, sire.” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed before continuing. “It’s just…you didn’t call for me, did you? Just a few moments ago?”

Arthur mirrored his expression of pinched brows.

“No, I didn’t.” He shook his own gorgeous blonde head, chewing his lip in thought, but still watching Merlin with worry. “Why?”

“Nothing, honestly. Just thought I heard…” Merlin shook his head again to clear his mind of the thoughts, nearly giving himself a headache, and went to leave. “It was nothing, sire. Must’ve been my imagination.”

“It does have a tendency to get carried away.” Arthurs idea of a joke.

“Very funny, your majesty.” He answers dryly reaching for the doorknob. “Honestly, can’t believe it took you this long to find someone to marry you with that sense of humor.”

Gwen thought this comical and laughed, however neither Arthur nor Merlin laughed at his joke.

Both were out of sorts; Merlin didn't know Arthur's reasons in the slightest. With his wedding in a fortnight, the King should be ecstatic. Merlin should be ecstatic for him. And yet, here they both were. Not laughing.

When Merlin turned back, once more, to find Arthur’s eyes on him, with that indiscernible look, he forced himself to go. So that his imagination would taunt him no longer.

#merthur #arthur pendragon #merlin #merthur fic #merlin and arthur #merlin bbc #guinevere #king arthur #deeply heartbroken Arthur #deeply heartbroken Merlin #Everybody is sad #I'm sorry #open ended #in my mind it has a happy ending

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istumpysk · 11 months

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

TWOW: Alayne I (Sansa I)

My little lovebug! ❤️

She's finally here! 🥺

To celebrate, I might just copy and paste the whole gosh darn thing. You've been warned.

Ladies and gentlemen, brace yourselves for the mind-blowing, heart-stopping, epic conclusion of Operation Stumpy Re-Read Project!

Before we dive in, we need to revisit a theory that I proposed in Jon X, ADWD.

The last time we saw Jon's and Sansa's points of view in the same book was A Storm of Swords. You might recall the deliberate placement of their back-to-back chapters was anything but subtle.

The text was often copied verbatim, the situations were perfectly mirrored, and the topics of love, marriage, and family were prevalent in both.

You can view a quick summary of it all here.

That brings us to this chapter. Some of you might not be aware, but George was originally planning to put Alayne I in A Dance with Dragons.

That Sansa chapter I talked about finishing, for instance. It's still finished, but my editor and I decided it belongs in THE WINDS OF WINTER, not A DANCE WITH DRAGONS, so it's been moved into the next book. Sansa will not appear in DANCE. - Not a Blog

Based on the intentional placement of previous Jon and Sansa chapters, I have hypothesized that it should be possible to determine the original planned position of this Alayne chapter.

Below, I will do my best to argue Alayne I, TWOW was originally indented to appear directly before Jon X, ADWD.

Alright, it's time!

She was reading her little lord a tale of the Winged Knight when Mya Stone came knocking on the door of his bedchamber, clad in boots and riding leathers and smelling strongly of the stable. Mya had straw in her hair and a scowl on her face. That scowl comes of having Mychel Redfort near, Alayne knew.

I'm so slow, I'm only now picking up on the vague hints of Jon and Sansa's connection from the highborn-lowborn divide between Mya and Mychel Redfort.

She sounded so like Sansa, so happy and innocent with her dreams. Catelyn smiled, but the smile was tinged with sadness. The Redforts were an old name in the Vale, she knew, with the blood of the First Men in their veins. His love she might be, but no Redfort would ever wed a bastard. His family would arrange a more suitable match for him, to a Corbray or a Waynwood or a Royce, or perhaps a daughter of some greater house outside the Vale. - Catelyn VI, AGOT

She even had a king for a dad!

+.+.+

Why did she have to mention Harry? Alayne thought. We will never get Sweetrobin out of bed now. The boy slapped a pillow. "Send them away. I never asked them here." Mya looked nonplussed. No one in the Vale was better at handling a mule, but lordlings were another matter. "They were invited," she said uncertainly, "for the tourney. I don't…" Alayne closed her book. "Thank you, Mya. Let me talk with Lord Robert, if you would."

Oh look, 13-year-old Sansa is acting 24 again, and can I just mention she's absolutely fantastic at managing her son cousin.

+.+.+

"I hate that Harry," Sweetrobin said when she was gone. "He calls me cousin, but he's just waiting for me to die so he can take the Eyrie. He thinks I don't know, but I do." "Your lordship should not believe such nonsense," Alayne said. "I'm sure Ser Harrold loves you well." And if the gods are good, he will love me too. Her tummy gave a little flutter.

Back to 13.

Just like Arya and Mercy, you can still find traces of Sansa in Alayne.

+.+.+

"I don't want you to marry him, Alayne. I am the Lord of the Eyrie, and I forbid it." He sounded as if he were about to cry. "You should marry me instead. We could sleep in the same bed every night, and you could read me stories."

In the future, it might be a good idea to ensure that Jon and Sweetrobin are kept apart at all times.

+.+.+

No man can wed me so long as my dwarf husband still lives somewhere in this world.��

I don't know about that.

"Hush, you'll be the death of us. I did nothing. Come, we must away, they'll search for you. Your husband's been arrested."

"Tyrion?" she said, shocked.

"Do you have another husband? The Imp, the dwarf uncle, she thinks he did it." - Sansa V, ASOS

When Her Grace suggested that she would be pleased to help arrange marriages for his sons to the daughters of great southern lords, Lord Stark refused brusquely. "We keep the old gods in the North," he told the queen. "When my boys take a wife, they will wed before a heart tree, not in some southron sept." - Fire & Blood

+.+.+

Alayne stroked his fingers. "There, my Sweetrobin, be still now." When the shaking passed, she said, "You must have a proper wife, a trueborn maid of noble birth." "No. I want to marry you, Alayne." Once your lady mother intended that very thing, but I was trueborn then, and noble.

Trust me, this is less than nothing, we're only warming up. I can do way better than this.

(-> -> -> Jon X?)

"Who brings this woman to be wed?" asked Melisandre.

"I do," said Jon. "Now comes Alys of House Karstark, a woman grown and flowered, of noble blood and birth." - Jon X, ADWD

+.+.+

Alayne smoothed his hair. Lady Lysa had never let the servants touch it, and after she had died Robert had suffered terrible shaking fits whenever anyone came near him with a blade, so it had been allowed to grow until it tumbled over his round shoulders and halfway down his flabby white chest. He does have pretty hair. If the gods are good and he lives long enough to wed, his wife will admire his hair, surely. That much she will love about him.

Mounting evidence that Sansa is plotting to kill Robert Arryn.

Why would he fear a blade?

+.+.+

"The Lord of the Eyrie can do as he likes. Can't I still love you, even if I have to marry her? Ser Harrold has a common woman. Benjicot says she's carrying his bastard." Benjicot should learn to keep his fool's mouth shut.

Lmao.

+.+.+

"Is that what you would have from me? A bastard?" She pulled her fingers from his grasp. "Would you dishonor me that way?" The boy looked stricken. "No. I never meant —" Alayne stood. "If it please my lord, I must go and find my father. Someone needs to greet Lady Waynwood." Before her little lord could find the words to protest, she gave him a quick curtsy and fled the bedchamber [...].

Masterfully done!

This is why I can't have children, I would have locked him in a closet.

+.+.+

When she had left Petyr Baelish that morning he had been breaking his fast with old Oswell who had arrived last night from Gulltown on a lathered horse.

Did you know that the number of references to Oldtown gradually increases from book to book until it surges in A Storm of Swords, right before the city is formally introduced at the beginning of A Feast for Crows?

Gulltown is on a similar trajectory. The city is referenced nine times in this chapter alone. Nine.

+.+.+

Though snow had blanketed the heights of the Giant's Lance above, below the mountain the autumn lingered and winter wheat was ripening in the fields.

For timeline purposes: Sansa is lagging behind where Brienne and Jon currently are in the story.

Snow in the riverlands. If it was snowing here, it could well be snowing on Lannisport as well, and on King's Landing. Winter is marching south, and half our granaries are empty. Any crops still in the fields were doomed. [...] "I know," Jaime said, "there has been a white raven from the Citadel. Winter has come." - Jaime VII, AFFC

+.+.+

Alayne loved it here. She felt alive again, for the first since her father… since Lord Eddard Stark had died.

Stop.

+.+.+

She hoped they might still be talking, but Petyr's solar proved empty. Someone had left a window open and a stack of papers had blown onto the floor. [...] She closed the window, gathered up the fallen papers, and stacked them on the table. One was a list of the competitors. Four-and-sixty knights had been invited to vie for places amongst Lord Robert Arryn's new Brotherhood of Winged Knights, and four and-sixty knights had come to tilt for the right to wear falcon’s wings upon their warhelms and guard their lord.

It is widely speculated she saw something she shouldn't have, but hasn't fully grasped the significance yet.

Did you know there's 64 squares on a chessboard?

+.+.+

The competitors came from all over the Vale, from the mountain valleys and the coast, from Gulltown and the Bloody Gate, even the Three Sisters. Though a few were promised, only three were wed; the eight victors would be expected to spend the next three years at Lord Robert's side, as his own personal guard (Alayne had suggested seven, like the Kingsguard, but Sweetrobin had insisted that he must have more knights than King Tommen), so older men with wives and children had not been invited.

We love a petty king.

so older men with wives and children had not been invited.

Perfect for Blackfish! Where is that former Knight of the Gate? I know he's coming, the ellipsis of truth tells no lies.

And if Ser Brynden should survive this siege, he might be inclined to claim Riverrun in his own name . . . or in the name of young Robert Arryn. - Jaime V, AFFC

Where else is he supposed to go?

Edit:

Oh! @decadelongsummer reminded me that Jaime I, ADWD would have come before this. (<- <- <-)

"Might the Blackfish seek refuge at Raventree?"

"He might seek it, but to find it he'd need to get past my siege lines, and last I heard he hadn't grown wings. [...]" - Jaime I, ADWD

+.+.+

"They're young, eager, hungry for adventure and renown. Lysa would not let them go to war. This is the next best thing. A chance to serve their lord and prove their prowess. They will come. Even Harry the Heir." He had smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. "What a clever daughter you are."

I will turn your liver into paste, and feed it to cats.

+.+.+

"What a clever daughter you are." It was clever.

✨ Clever girl! ✨

Dontos chuckled. "My Jonquil's a clever girl, isn't she?" - Sansa IV, ACOK

"There's a clever girl." He smiled, his thin lips bright red from the pomegranate seeds. - Sansa VI, ASOS

"[...] It was clever of you to see it. Though no more than I'd expect of mine own daughter." - Sansa I, AFFC

Sers, the Lady Alayne, my natural and very clever daughter . . . - Alayne II, AFFC

+.+.+

The tourney, the prizes, the winged knights, it had all been her own notion. Lord Robert's mother had filled him full of fears, but he always took courage from the tales she read him of Ser Artys Arryn, the Winged Knight of legend, founder of his line. Why not surround him with Winged Knights? She had thought one night, after Sweetrobin had finally drifted off to sleep. His own Kingsguard, to keep him safe and make him brave.

Sounds like something a queen might be responsible for planning.

Unreliable narrator Sansa Stark (or George R. R. Martin). Ser Artys Arryn was not the legendary Winged Knight from the Age of Heroes. Two different people.

I don't know if this is important or not, but while reading the history of Ser Artys, a few things stuck out.

Leading the attack was a champion in silvered steel, with a moon-and-falcon on his shield and wings upon his warhelm. Ser Artys Arryn had clad one of his knights retainer in his spare suit of armor, leaving him in camp whilst he himself took his best horsemen up and around a goat track that he remembered from his childhood, so they might reappear behind the First Men and descend on them from above. - The World of Ice and Fire

While fighting King Robar II Royce, Ser Artys used a decoy of himself, while he snuck up and around a goat track that he remembered from his childhood.

What's interesting about that is that Roose Bolton uses a decoy in ADWD, which fools Ramsay.

When the rider in the dark armor removed his helm, however, the face beneath was not one that Reek knew. Ramsay's smile curdled at the sight, and anger flashed across his face. "What is this, some mockery?" - Reek II, ADWD

But what really stands out is the goat tracks. I know a character who has deep appreciation for goat tracks being used during war.

"Goat tracks?" The king's eyes narrowed. "I speak of moving swiftly, and you waste my time with goat tracks?"

"When the Young Dragon conquered Dorne, he used a goat track to bypass the Dornish watchtowers on the Boneway." - Jon IV, ADWD

I don't know. It involved knights from the Vale, so it made me pause.

+.+.+

Lord Nestor was showing Lady Waxley his prize tapestries, with their scenes of hunt and chase. The same panels had once hung in the Red Keep of King's Landing, when Robert sat the Iron Throne. Joffrey had them taken down and they had languished in some cellar until Petyr Baelish arranged for them to be brought to the Vale as a gift for Nestor Royce. Not only were the hangings beautiful, but the High Steward delighted in telling anyone who'd listen that they had once belonged to a king.

It's the conclusion of the most anticlimactic side plot in the entire series.

"Not as yet. In truth, he seems quite unconcerned. His last letter mentions the rebels only briefly before beseeching me to ship him some old tapestries of Robert's." - Cersei IV, AFFC

Petyr laughed. "Perhaps I shall. Or better still, to our sweet Cersei. Though I should not speak harshly of her, she is sending me some splendid tapestries. Isn't that kind of her?" - Alayne I, AFFC

This is nothing. It's only meant to showcase how Littlefinger purchases the loyalty of others.

+.+.+

At the north end of the yard, three quintains had been set up, and some of the competitors were riding at them. Alayne knew them by their shields; the bells of Belmore, green vipers for the Lynderlys, the red sledge of Breakstone, House Tollett’s black and grey pily. Ser Mychel Redfort set one quintain spinning with a perfectly placed blow. He was one of those favored to win wings.

Showing off, as per usual. She's only doing this to make Arya look bad.

+.+.+

"The Lord Protector's daughter," the bald knight announced, all hearty gallantry. He rose ponderously. "And full as lovely as the tales told of her, I see." Not to be outdone, the pimply knight hopped up and said, "Ser Ossifer speaks truly, you are the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms." It might have been a sweeter courtesy had he not addressed it to her chest. "And have you seen all those maids yourself, ser?" Alayne asked him. "You are young to be so widely travelled."

"You are even lovelier than I was told, princess," he declared. "The queen has told me much and more of your beauty."

"How odd, when she has never seen me." - Jon XI, ADWD

+.+.+

Alayne could not help but shutter. Myranda's husband had died when he was making love with her. "Those Sistermen who came in yesterday were gallant," she said, to change the subject. "If you don't like Ser Ossifer or Ser Uther, marry one of them instead. I thought the youngest one was very handsome." "The one in the sealskin cloak?" Randa said, incredulous. "One of his brothers, then." Myranda rolled her eyes. "They're from the Sisters. Did you ever know a Sisterman who could joust? They clean their swords with codfish oil and wash in tubs of cold seawater." “Well,” Alayne said, “at least they're clean.”

"Some of them have webs between their toes. [...]"

Uh huh.

Listen to me. Listen to me.

You know why this is here.

Davos: I:

Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

Remind me, what did we learn in Davos I?

To get home and call his banners, Stark had to cross the mountains to the Fingers and find a fisherman to carry him across the Bite. A storm caught them on the way. The fisherman drowned, but his daughter got Stark to the Sisters before the boat went down.

[...]

Our maester urged us to send Stark's head to Aerys, to prove our loyalty. It would have meant a rich reward.

[...]

That was when Stark said, 'In this world only winter is certain. We may lose our heads, it's true … but what if we prevail?' My father sent him on his way with his head still on his shoulders. 'If you lose,' he told Lord Eddard, 'you were never here.'" - Davos I, ADWD

Right, exactly. Go ahead and remind us of the Three Sisters in a Sansa chapter, George. Nobody can figure out where this is going.

+.+.+

"Some of them have webs between their toes. I'd sooner marry Lord Petyr. Then I'd be your mother. How little is his finger, I ask you?"

Alayne did not dignify that question with an answer.

Totally normal thing you might ask his daughter.

+.+.+

"Is that a promise or a threat?" Myranda said. "The first Lady Waynwood must have been a mare, I think. How else to explain why all the Waynwood men are horse-faced? If I were ever to wed a Waynwood, he would have to swear a vow to don his helm whenever he wished to fuck me, and keep the visor closed." She gave Alayne a pinch on the arm.

Um, I have a theory!

"No," Catelyn agreed. "You must name another heir, until such time as Jeyne gives you a son." She considered a moment. "Your father's father had no siblings, but his father had a sister who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch. They had three daughters, all of whom wed Vale lordlings. A Waynwood and a Corbray, for certain. The youngest . . . it might have been a Templeton, but . . ." - Catelyn V, ASOS

+.+.+

"My Harry will be with them, though. I notice that you left him out. I shall never forgive you for stealing him away from me. He's the boy I want to marry."

"The betrothal was my father's doing," Alayne protested, as she had a hundred times before. She is only teasing, she told herself… but behind the japes, she could hear the hurt.

We can't be certain, but she doesn't give off the same vibes as the other Myranda on the show.

+.+.+

Alayne could not see the front of his shield from where she stood, but his attacker bore three ravens in flight, each clutching a red heart in its claws. Three hearts and three ravens. She knew right then how the fight would end. A few moments later and the big man sprawled dazed in the dust with his helm askew. When his squire undid the fastenings to bare his head, there was blood trickling down his scalp. If the swords had not been blunted, there would be brains as well. That last head blow had been so hard Alayne had winced in sympathy when it fell. Myranda Royce considered the victor thoughtfully. "Do you think if I asked nicely Ser Lyn would kill my suitors for me?" "He might, for a plump bag of gold." Ser Lyn Corbray was forever desperately short of coin, all the Vale knew that.

Based on my powerful foresight, I predict that Lyn Corbray will exhibit violent tendencies in the future, possibly while utilizing his Valyrian steel sword.

Don't ask me who the victim will be.

+.+.+

There is truth in that, Alayne thought, but some demon of mischief was in her that morning, so she gave Ser Lyn a thrust of her own. Smiling sweetly, she said, "My lord father tells me your brother's new wife is with child." Corbray gave her a dark look. "Lyonel sends his regrets. He remains at Heart's Home with his peddler's daughter, watching her belly swell as if he were the first man who ever got a wench pregnant." Oh, that's an open wound, thought Alayne. Lyonel Corbray's first wife had given him nothing but a frail, sickly babe who died in infancy, and during all those years Ser Lyn had remained his brother's heir. When the poor woman finally died, however, Petyr Baelish had stepped in and brokered a new marriage for Lord Corbray. The second Lady Corbray was sixteen, the daughter of a wealthy Gulltown merchant, but she had come with an immense dowry, and men said she was a tall, strapping, healthy girl, with big breasts and good, wide hips. And fertile too, it seems. "We are all praying that the Mother grants Lady Corbray an easy labor and a healthy child," said Myranda. Alayne could not help herself. She smiled and said, "My father is always pleased to be of service to one of Lord Robert's leal bannermen. I'm sure he would be most delighted to help broker a marriage for you as well, Ser Lyn." "How kind of him." Corbray's lips drew back in something that might have been meant as a smile, though it gave Alayne a chill. "But what need have I for heirs when I am landless and like to remain so, thanks to our Lord Protector? No. Tell your lord father I need none of his brood mares." The venom in his voice was so thick that for a moment she almost forgot that Lyn Corbray was actually her father's catspaw, bought and paid for. Or was he? Perhaps, instead of being Petyr's man pretending to be Petyr's foe, he was actually his foe pretending to be his man pretending to be his foe.

Uh oh, Nostradamus senses something. There she goes leaking the plot again!

The king's own fool, the pie-faced simpleton called Moon Boy, danced about on stilts, all in motley, making mock of everyone with such deft cruelty that Sansa wondered if he was simple after all. - Sansa II, AGOT

Sansa shuddered. Every time she looked at Ser Ilyn Payne, she shivered. - Sansa III, AGOT

Varys was wringing his soft hands together, Grand Maester Pycelle kept his sleepy eyes on the papers in front of him, but she could feel Littlefinger staring. Something about the way the small man looked at her made Sansa feel as though she had no clothes on. Goose bumps pimpled her skin. - Sansa IV, AGOT

For his sigil he had taken a bloody spear, gold on a night-black field. The sight of it raised goose prickles up and down Sansa's arms. - Sansa V, AGOT

Ser Boros was short-tempered, Ser Meryn cold, and Ser Mandon's strange dead eyes made her uneasy - Sansa I, ACOK

"I don't want to." Lollys clutched at her maid, a slender, pretty girl with short dark hair who looked as though she wanted nothing so much as to shove her mistress into the dry moat, onto those iron spikes. "Please, please, I don't want to." - Sansa V, ACOK

Besides, the lords of the Trident were sworn to Riverrun and House Tully, and to the King in the North; they would never accept Littlefinger as their liege. Unless they are made to. Unless my brother and my uncle and my grandfather are all cast down and killed. The thought made Sansa anxious, but she told herself she was being silly. - Sansa VIII, ACOK

Yet the more she thought about it all, the more she wondered. Joff might restrain himself for a few turns, perhaps as long as a year, but soon or late he will show his claws, and when he does . . . The realm might have a second Kingslayer, and there would be war inside the city, as the men of the lion and the men of the rose made the gutters run red. - Sansa I, ASOS

Believe in Sansa. The bottom line is that Lyn Corbray is a problem, and he's not as loyal to Littlefinger as Littlefinger thinks. Where this goes, I couldn't tell you.

(I desperately wanted to highlight every instance of Daenerys incorrectly reading someone, but I chose to be an adult.)

+.+.+

Alayne turned abruptly from the yard… and bumped into a short, sharp-faced man with a brush of orange hair who had come up behind her. His hand shot out and caught her arm before she could fall. "My lady. My pardons if I took you unawares." "The fault was mine. I did not see you standing there." "We mice are quiet creatures." Ser Shadrich was so short that he might have been taken for a squire, but his face belonged to a much older man. She saw long leagues in the wrinkles at the corner of his mouth, old battles in the scar beneath his ear, and a hardness behind the eyes that no boy would ever have. This was a man grown. Even Randa overtopped him, though. "Will you be seeking wings?" the Royce girl said. "A mouse with wings would be a silly sight." "Perhaps you will try the melee instead?" Alayne suggested. The melee was an afterthought, a sop for all the brothers, uncles, fathers, and friends who had accompanied the competitors to the Gates of the Moon to see them win their silver wings, but there would be prizes for the champions, and a chance to win ransoms. "A good melee is all a hedge knight can hope for, unless he stumbles on a bag of dragons. And that's not likely, is it?"

Speaking of problems.

You know who Varys is, I trust? The eunuch has offered a plump bag of gold for this girl you've never heard of. I am not a greedy man. If some oversized wench would help me find this naughty child, I would split the Spider's coin with her. - Brienne I, AFFC

The following is speculative, but also highly rational in my opinion.

It would be incredibly illogical for the author to introduce Ser Shadrich in Brienne's first chapter, reveal his objective to the reader, have him show up in the Vale near the same book's conclusion, clearly signal to the reader that he's correctly identified Sansa, and then proceed to not utilize him in any meaningful way. This is not what a red herring looks like.

There's probably a reason why Brienne's been gifted the knowledge of his appearance, and his objective. Brienne may not know what Alayne looks like, but she does know what Ser Shadrich looks like.

There's probably a reason why Brienne gauges both of their fighting skills while anticipating a potential encounter. (Come on.)

The Mad Mouse, she thought, at her first sight of him. Somehow he's followed me. Her hand went to her sword hilt, and she found herself wondering if Ser Shadrich would think her easy prey just because she was a woman. [...] If it was Ser Shadrich dogging her heels, she might well have a fight on her hands. She did not intend to partner with the man or let him follow her to Sansa. He had the sort of easy arrogance that comes with skill at arms, she thought, but he was small. I'll have the reach on him, and I should be stronger too. - Brienne II, AFFC

We watched Brienne intercept a Stark daughter three different times on the show.

None of these scenes can happen in the books, but we already know the show creators drew inspiration from canon events, and assigned different characters to the roles.

They gave the role of Biter to the Hound and made Brienne fight him, do you not think it's also possible one of these scenes is inspired by Brienne intercepting Shadrich and Sansa in the books?

"But Brienne's currently captured by Lady Stoneheart near Pennytree, and has a broken arm and face!"

Sansa's 👏 and 👏 Brienne's 👏 storylines 👏 aren't 👏 synchronized.

He told us what Brienne would do! He told us!

The Eyrie would be simpler, and Lady Lysa would surely welcome her sister's daughter . . .

Ahead, the alley bent. Somehow Brienne had taken a wrong turn. She found herself in a dead end, a small muddy yard where three pigs were rooting round a low stone well.

[...]

"I was looking for the Seven Swords."

"Back the way you come. Left at the sept."

"I thank you." Brienne turned to retrace her steps, and walked headfirst into someone hurrying round the bend. - Brienne II, AFFC

Brienne 👏 will 👏 escape! She'll 👏 turn 👏 back!

+.+.+

They made a race of it, dashing headlong across the yard and past the stables, skirts flapping, whilst knights and serving men alike looked on, and pigs and chickens scattered before them. It was most unladylike, but Alayne sound found herself laughing. For just a little while, as she ran, she forget who she was, and where, and found herself remembering bright cold days at Winterfell, when she would race through Winterfell with her friend Jeyne Poole, with Arya running after them trying to keep up.

Always nice seeing her act her age.

+.+.+

Harry the Heir, Alayne thought. My husband-to-be, if he will have me. A sudden terror filled her. She wondered if her face was red. Don't stare at him, she reminded herself, don't stare, don't gape, don't gawk. Look away. Her hair must be a frightful mess after all that running. It took all her will to stop herself from trying to tuck the loose strands back into place. Never mind your stupid hair. Your hair doesn't matter. It's him that matters. Him, and the Waynwoods. Ser Roland was the oldest of the three, though no more than five-and-twenty. He was taller and more muscular than Ser Wallace, but both were long-faced and lantern-jawed, with stringy brown hair and pinched noses. Horsefaced and homely, Alayne thought. Harry, though… My Harry. My lord, my lover, my betrothed.Ser Harrold Hardyng looked every inch a lord-in-waiting; clean-limbed and handsome, straight as a lance, hard with muscle. Men old enough to have known Jon Arryn in his youth said Ser Harrold had his look, she knew. He had a mop of sandy blond hair, pale blue eyes, an aquiline nose. Joffrey was comely too, though, she reminded herself. A comely monster, that’s what he was. Little Lord Tyrion was kinder, twisted though he was.

Wow, how much do you love that?

Sansa directly compares the horse-faced Waynwoods, who have Stark lineage and were once potential heirs to Robb, to the more attractive Harry Hardyng (aka Joffrey).

I'm sorry, you have to see this:

Un-fucking-real. So close. They're always so close.

Yeah guys, why isn't she thinking about Arya? It's obvious we're supposed to be thinking about Arya during this passage. The author's intentions here are clear, the subtext is Arya. Sansa comparing these Stark-ish, likable Waynwood men to the comely yet rude Harry the Heir is totally about Arya. Arya's written all over this. We're so clever to see it.

Side note,

Joffrey was comely too, though, she reminded herself. A comely monster, that's what he was.

"Beauty can be treacherous. My brother learned that lesson from Cersei Lannister. [...]." - Jon XI, ASOS

Love when my babies both learn about beauty's hidden dangers!

+.+.+

"I look forward to a spirited discussion." Ser Roland swung down from his horse, turned to Alayne, and smiled. "I had heard that Lord Littlefinger's daughter was fair of face and full of grace, but no one ever told me that she was a thief." "You wrong me, ser. I am no thief!" Ser Roland placed his hand over his heart. "Then how do you explain this hole in my chest, from where you stole my heart?"

Man, these horsey Waynwoods are crushing hard on Sansa. hehehehe.

Instead, he blamed Jon Snow and wondered when Jon's heart had turned to stone. - Samwell III, AFFC

+.+.+

"You are in the Falcon Tower, Ser Harrold," Alayne put in. Far away from Sweetrobin. That was intentional, she knew. Petyr Baelish did not leave such things to chance. "If it please you, I will show you to your chambers myself." This time her eyes met Harry's. She smiled just for him, and said a silent prayer to the Maiden. Please, he doesn't need to love me, just make him like me, just a little, that would be enough for now. Ser Harrold looked down at her coldly. "Why should it please me to be escorted anywhere by Littlefinger's bastard?"

+.+.+

A lady's armor is her courtesy. Alayne could feel the blood rushing to her face. No tears, she prayed. Please, please, I must not cry. "As you wish, ser. And now if you will excuse me, Littlefinger's bastard must find her lord father and let him know that you have come, so we can begin the tourney on the morrow." And may your horse stumble, Harry the Heir, so you fall on your stupid head in your first tilt. She showed the Waynwoods a stone face as they blurted out awkward apologies for their companion. When they were done she turned and fled. Near the keep, she ran headlong into Ser Lothor Brune and almost knocked him off his feet. "Harry the Heir? Harry the Arse, I say. He's just some upjumped squire." Alayne was so grateful that she hugged him. "Thank you. Have you seen my father, ser?"

Oopsie daisy, Nostradamus has returned.

The most terrifying moment of the day came during Ser Gregor's second joust, when his lance rode up and struck a young knight from the Vale under the gorget with such force that it drove through his throat, killing him instantly. The youth fell not ten feet from where Sansa was seated. The point of Ser Gregor's lance had snapped off in his neck, and his life's blood flowed out in slow pulses, each weaker than the one before. His armor was shiny new; a bright streak of fire ran down his outstretched arm, as the steel caught the light. Then the sun went behind a cloud, and it was gone. His cloak was blue, the color of the sky on a clear summer's day, trimmed with a border of crescent moons, but as his blood seeped into it, the cloth darkened and the moons turned red, one by one. - Sansa II, AGOT

"Look at that upjumped oaf," Joff hooted, loud enough for half the yard to hear.

[...]

I hope he falls and shames himself, she thought bitterly. I hope Ser Balon kills him. When Joffrey proclaimed her father's death, it had been Janos Slynt who seized Lord Eddard's severed head by the hair and raised it on high for king and crowd to behold, while Sansa wept and screamed.

Morros dropped his lance, fought for balance, and lost. One foot caught in a stirrup as he fell, and the runaway charger dragged the youth to the end of the lists, head bouncing against the ground. Joff hooted derision. Sansa was appalled, wondering if the gods had heard her vengeful prayer. - Sansa I, ACOK

At the last possible instant, Ser Humfrey's [Hardyng] stallion reared away from the oncoming point, eyes rolling in terror, but too late, Aerion's lance took the animal just above the armor that protected his breastbone, and exploded out of the back of his neck in a gout of bright blood. Screaming, the horse crashed sideways, knocking the wooden barrier to pieces as he fell. Ser Humfrey [Hardyng] tried to leap free, but a foot caught in a stirrup and they heard his shriek as his leg was crushed between the splintered fence and falling horse. - The Hedge Knight

A knight from the Vale.

Correctly predicting it will happen to an upjumped oaf.

A Hardyng.

There are two certainties in this life: death and Harrold Hardyng falling off his horse. (Plenty of people don't pay their taxes.)

+.+.+

The vaults were large and dark and filthy. Alayne lit a taper and clutched her skirt as she made the descent. Near the bottom, she heard Lord Grafton's booming voice, and followed. "The merchants are clamoring to buy, and the lords are clamoring to sell," the Gulltowner was saying when she found them. Though not a tall man, Grafton was wide, with thick arms and shoulders. His hair was a dirty blond mop. "How am I to stop that, my lord?" "Post guardsmen on the docks. If need be, seize the ships. How does not matter, so long as no food leaves the Vale." "These prices, though," protested fat Lord Belmore," these prices are more than fair." "You say more than fair, my lord. I say less than we would wish. Wait. If need be, buy the food yourself and keep it stored. Winter is coming. Prices must go higher." "Perhaps," said Belmore, doubtfully. "Bronze Yohn will not wait," Grafton complained. "He need not ship through Gulltown, he has his own ports. Whilst we are hoarding our harvest, Royce and the other Lords Declarant will turn theirs into silver, you may be sure of that."

I smell converging storylines!

Our best hope may be the Eyrie. The Vale of Arryn was famously fertile and had gone untouched during the fighting. Jon wondered how Lady Catelyn's sister would feel about feeding Ned Stark's bastard. - Jon IV, ADWD

Someone cut Littlefinger's head off, so everyone can eat.

Anyway, there's more Gulltown. Gulltown, Gulltown, Gulltown!

She might do better to take ship for Gulltown or White Harbor. I could do both, though. - Brienne II, AFFC

If the Stinking Goose yields nothing, I will take passage on a ship, she decided. Gulltown was only a short voyage away. From there she could make her way to the Eyrie easily enough. - Brienne III, AFFC

"Gulltown next," her captain told her, "thence around the Fingers to Sisterton and White Harbor, if the storms allow. She's a clean ship, 'Strider, not so many rats as most, and we'll have fresh eggs and new-churned butter aboard. Is m'lady seeking passage north?"

"No." Not yet. She was tempted, but . . . - Brienne V, AFFC

NOT YET. NOT YET! GULLTOWN -> SISTERTON -> WHITE HARBOR. HE TOLD US. HE FORESHADOWS EVERYTHING. IT'S RIGHT THERE.

+.+.+

"And is Ser Harrold with them?" Horrible Ser Harrold. "He is." Lord Belmore laughed. "I never thought Royce would let him come. Is he blind, or merely stupid?" "He is honorable. Sometimes it amounts to the same thing. If he denied the lad the chance to prove himself, it could create a rift between them, so why not let him tilt? The boy is nowise skilled enough to win a place amongst the Winged Knights."

Gosh, since his introduction, it seems like we've been constantly reminded that this upjumped squire is rather inept when it comes to sports.

"Our cousin Bronze Yohn had himself a mêlée at Runestone," Myranda Royce went on, oblivious, "a small one, just for squires. It was meant for Harry the Heir to win the honors, and so he did." - Alayne II, AFFC

+.+.+

"Come," Petyr said, "walk with me." He took her by the arm and led her deeper into the vaults, past an empty dungeon.

I will cut your eyelids off.

+.+.+

"Yes," she said, "but why must he be so cruel? He called me your bastard. Right in the yard, in front of everyone." "So far as he knows, that's who you are. This betrothal was never his idea, and Bronze Yohn has no doubt warned him against my wiles. You are my daughter. He does not trust you, and he believes that you're beneath him." "Well, I'm not. He may think he's some great knight, but Ser Lothor says he's just some upjumped squire."

Sansa's acquiring a new perspective through experiential learning: understanding the bastard experience. Aww. <3

+.+.+

Petyr put his arm around her. "So he is, but he is Robert's heir as well. Bringing Harry here was the first step in our plan, but now we need to keep him, and only you can do that. He has a weakness for a pretty face, and whose face is prettier than yours? Charm him. Entrance him. Bewitch him."

Getting to the good stuff.

I'll tell you one thing, I have more faith in Sansa successfully accomplishing this than 6-year-old Alys Karstark.

(-> -> -> Jon X?)

"It is my own fault. My lord father told me I must charm your brother Robb, but I was only six and didn't know how."

Aye, but now you're almost six-and-ten, and we must pray you will know how to charm your new husband. - Jon X, ADWD

I've said it a million times in other Sansa chapters, so I won't elaborate, but if you truly believe Littlefinger's plan is to wed Catelyn 2.0 to imitation Brandon Stark, you might be out of your mind.

Petyr put his arm around her.

I will pluck every hair from your head, and genitals.

+.+.+

"I don't know how," she said miserably. "Oh, I think you do," said Littlefinger, with one of those smiles that did not reach his eyes.

Excluding the instance where she copied Harry's words, that is the only time she calls him Littlefinger in this chapter.

She hasn't forgotten.

+.+.+

"You will be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight, as lovely as your lady mother at your age. I cannot seat you on the dais, but you'll have a place of honor above the salt and underneath a wall sconce. The fire will be shining in your hair, so everyone will see how fair of face you are. Keep a good long spoon on hand to beat the squires off, sweetling. You will not want green boys underfoot when the knights come round to beg you for your favor." "Who would ask to wear a bastard's favor?"

"Harry, if he has the wits the gods gave a goose… but do not give it to him. Choose some other gallant, and favor him instead. You do not want to seem too eager."

I'd be hesitant to allow fire to shine in Sansa's hair.

This feels like a developing story. I'd love to know who is getting this favor if it's not Harry the Arse.

He had worn her favor in the Battle of the Blackwater, where he'd slain a Myrish crossbowman and a Mullendore man-at-arms. "Alyn said her favor made him fearless," said Megga. "He says he shouted her name for his battle cry, isn't that ever so gallant? Someday I want some champion to wear my favor, and kill a hundred men." - Sansa II, ASOS

"Saving yourself for Lord Robert?" Lady Myranda teased. "Or is there some ardent squire dreaming of your favors?" - Alayne II, AFFC

Edmure escorted her up the water stair and across the lower bailey, where Petyr Baelish and Brandon Stark had once crossed swords for her favor. - Catelyn XI, AGOT

+.+.+

"Lady Waynwood will insist that Harry dance with you, I can promise you that much. That will be your chance. Smile at the boy. Touch him when you speak. Tease him, to pique his pride. If he seems to be responding, tell him that you are feeling faint, and ask him to take you outside for a breath of fresh air. No knight could refuse such a request from a fair maiden."

The above won't happen, but in her next chapter, I'll be super on edge whenever she's exposed and there aren't many people around.

+.+.+

Petyr drew her close and kissed her on both cheeks. "The night belongs to you, sweetling, Remember that, always."

I will make you deepthroat a cactus.

+.+.+

The feast proved to be everything her father promised. Sixty-four dishes were served, in honor of the sixty-four competitors who had come so far to contest for silver wings before their lord. From the rivers and the lakes came pike and trout and salmon, from the seas crabs and cod and herring. Ducks there were, and capons, peacocks in their plumage and swans in almond milk. Suckling pigs were served up crackling with apples in their mouths, and three huge aurochs were roasted whole above firepits in the castle yard, since they were too big to get through the kitchen doors. Loaves of hot bread filled the trestle tables in Lord Nestor's hall, and massive wheels of cheese were brought up from the vaults. The butter was fresh-churned, and there were leeks and carrots, roasted onions, beets, turnips, parsnips. And best of all, Lord Nestor's cooks prepared a splendid subtlety, a lemon cake in the shape of the Giant's Lance, twelve feet tall and adorned with an Eyrie made of sugar. For me, Alayne thought, as they wheeled it out. Sweetrobin loved lemon cakes too, but only after she told him that they were her favorites. The cake had required every lemon in the Vale, but Petyr had promised that he would send to Dorne for more.

A splendid subtlety, lol.

Nice, Littlefinger gifted her a giant penis. I wonder if the ones from Dorne taste any better. (I'm sorry.)

Look, it's a feast!

(-> -> -> Jon X?)

The stewards began to bring out the first dish, an onion broth flavored with bits of goat and carrot. Not precisely royal fare, but nourishing; it tasted good enough and warmed the belly. Owen the Oaf took up his fiddle, and several of the free folk joined in with pipes and drums. The same pipes and drums they played to sound Mance Rayder's attack upon the Wall. Jon thought they sounded sweeter now. With the broth came loaves of coarse brown bread, warm from the oven. Salt and butter sat upon the tables. - Jon X, ADWD

+.+.+

When the last course had been served and cleared, the tables were lifted from their trestles to clear the floor for dancing, and musicians were brought in.

[...] "As am I," Coldwater said. Rising, he offered Alayne his hand. "Would you honor me with this dance, my lady?" "You're very kind," she said, as he led her to the floor. He was her first partner of the evening, but far from the last. Just as Petyr had promised, the young knights flocked around her, vying for her favor. After Ben came Andrew Tollett, handsome Ser Byron, red-nosed Ser Morgarth, and Ser Shadrich the Mad Mouse. Then Ser Albar Royce, Myranda's stout dull brother and Lord Nestor's heir. She danced with all three Sunderlands, none of whom had webs between their fingers, though she could not vouch for their toes. Uther Shett appeared to pay her slimy compliments as he trod upon her feet, but Ser Targon the Halfwild proved to be the soul of courtesy. After that Ser Roland Waynwood swept her up and made her laugh with mocking comments about half the other knights in the hall. His uncle Wallace took a turn as well and tried to do the same, but the words would not come. Alayne finally took pity on him and began to chatter happily, to spare him the embarrassment. When the dance was done she excused herself, and went back to her place to have a drink of wine.

Oh my goodness, they're dancing! Ser Jon Waynwood sounds like a hoot.

(-> -> -> Jon X?)

The queen's men outnumbered the queen's ladies three to one, so even the humblest serving girls were pressed into the dance. After a few songs some black brothers remembered skills learned at the courts and castles of their youth, before their sins had sent them to the Wall, and took the floor as well. That old rogue Ulmer of the Kingswood proved as adept at dancing as he was at archery, no doubt regaling his partners with his tales of the Kingswood Brotherhood, when he rode with Simon Toyne and Big Belly Ben and helped Wenda the White Fawn burn her mark in the buttocks of her highborn captives. Satin was all grace, dancing with three serving girls in turn but never presuming to approach a highborn lady.

[...]

"You could dance with me, you know. It would be only courteous. You danced with me anon."

"Anon?" teased Jon.

"When we were children." She tore off a bit of bread and threw it at him. "As you know well."

"My lady should dance with her husband." - Jon X, ADWD

Dance with me, Jon Snow! You'll dance with me anon.

Don't be offended Alys, you're not the right partner.

When the musicians began to play, she timidly laid her hand on Tyrion's and said, "My lord, should we lead the dance?"

His mouth twisted. "I think we have already given them sufficent amusement for one day, don't you?" - Sansa III, ASOS

And neither was he.

I won't get too deep into each dance partner, because this post is long enough, but I'm sure you can see there's more than a few allusions to Jon (Coldwater, Tollett, Ser Byron, Royce, etc.).

Read more here:

Allusions to Jon in The Dance Partners of TWOW, Alayne I (@cappymightwrite)

+.+.+

And there he stood, Harry the Heir himself; tall, handsome, scowling. "Lady Alayne. May I partner you in this dance?" She considered for a moment. "No. I don't think so." Color rose to his cheeks. "I was unforgivably rude to you in the yard. You must forgive me." "Must?" She tossed her hair, took a sip of wine, made him wait. "How can you forgive someone who is unforgivably rude? Will you explain that to me, ser?" Ser Harrold looked confused. "Please. One dance."

Charm him. Entrance him. Bewitch him. "If you insist."

Boo, hiss. Wrong dance partner!

She'll talk circles around you if you let her.

+.+.+

He nodded, offered his arm, led her out onto the floor. As they waited for the music to resume, Alayne glanced at the dais, where Lord Robert sat staring at them. Please, she prayed, don’t let him start to twitch and shake. Not here. Not now. Maester Coleman would have made certain that he drank a strong dose of sweetmilk before the feast, but even so.

Oh good, the doctor who keeps tempting fate is back.

Just give him a cup of the sweetmilk before we go, and another at the feast, and there should be no trouble."

"Very well." They paused at the foot of the stairs. "But this must be the last. For half a year, or longer." - Alayne II, AFFC

+.+.+

Instead she said, "I have heard that you are about to be a father." It was not something most girls would say to their almost-betrothed, but she wanted to see if Ser Harrold would lie. "For the second time. My daughter Alys is two years old."

Your bastard daughter Alys, Alayne thought, but what she said was, "That one had a different mother, though."

What a totally unique name we've given this kid!

(-> -> -> Jon X?)

Jon turned to Alys Karstark. "My lady. Are you ready?" - Jon X, ADWD

Did I say he's Brandon Stark? I meant Brandon Stark with a little hint of Robert Baratheon.

+.+.+

"Yes. Cissy was a pretty thing when I tumbled her, but childbirth left her as fat as a cow, so Lady Anya arranged for her to marry one of her men-at-arms. It is different with Saffron." "Saffron?" Alayne tried not to laugh. "Truly?" Ser Harrold had the grace to blush. "Her father says she is more precious to him than gold. He's rich, the richest man in Gulltown. A fortune in spices." "What will you name the babe?" she asked. "Cinnamon if she's a girl? Cloves if he's a boy?"

That roast is worthy of applause.

Fun words are everywhere!

(-> -> -> Jon X?)

"Hobb's mulled some wine with cinnamon and cloves. That'll warm us some."

"What's cloves?" asked Owen the Oaf. - Jon X, ADWD

+.+.+

"Saffron is very beautiful, I'll have you know. Tall and slim, with big brown eyes and hair like honey." Alayne raised her head. "More beautiful than me?" Ser Harrold studied her face. "You are comely enough, I grant you. When Lady Anya first told me of this match, I was afraid that you might look like your father." "Little pointy beard and all?" Alayne laughed. "I never meant..." "I hope you joust better than you talk."

I am extremely confident he does not.

Are tall girls with honey in their hair his type? Too bad.

+.+.+

For a moment he looked shocked. But as the song was ending, he burst into a laugh. "No one told me you were clever."

✨ Clever girl! ✨

Melisandre closed her eyes, remembering. "West."

"She is not coming up the kingsroad, then. Clever girl. [...]" - Melisandre I, ADWD

+.+.+

He has good teeth, she thought, straight and white. And when he smiles, he has the nicest dimples. She ran one finger down his cheek. "Should we ever wed, you'll have to send Saffron back to her father. I'll be all the spice you'll want." He grinned. "I will hold you to that promise, my lady. Until that day, may I wear your favor in the tourney?" "You may not. It is promised to… another." She was not sure who as yet, but she knew she would find someone.

Before I get to the last bit, can I tell you something?

I read a sizeable amount of fandom commentary on this chapter, and not one single person contemplated who she's saving her favor for. It didn't come up once.

People are either deliberately avoiding asking themselves that question, or they believe the ending of this chapter is insignificant, and the topic won't resurface again. I'm not sure which one annoys me more.

+.+.+

"You may not. It is promised to… another." She was not sure who as yet, but she knew she would find someone.

Now turn the page.

(-> -> -> Jon X?)

It's the Alys Karstark x Sigorn wedding chapter! Yay.

Interestingly, in the first few pages of that chapter, the author intentionally creates an initial impression that it's Jon Snow who is marrying Alys Karstark. Curious, isn't it?

Let's discuss what we know about the bride, who the author led us to believe Jon Snow was marrying.

According to the fandom, Alys Karstark is Jon Snow's girl in grey. Small problem with that, she never wears grey, and never travels near a body of water to get to Castle Black.

"I saw water. Deep and blue and still, with a thin coat of ice just forming on it. It seemed to go on and on forever."

"Long Lake. What else did you see around this girl?" - Melisandre I, ADWD

However, she was fleeing from a forced marriage. Her great-uncle has assumed the role of Lord of Karhold, and made her a match, despite lacking any rightful claim to the land or castle.

Your uncle … would that be Lord Arnolf?" "He is no lord," Alys said scornfully. [...] Uncle Arnolf is only castellan. - Jon IX, ADWD

↓

"Lysa was murdered before the document could be presented for her signature, so I signed as Lord Protector. I knew that would have been her wish." - Sansa I, AFFC

The marriage is to her uncle, Cregan Karstark. Sorry, I should clarify this uncle isn't actually her uncle, it's just what they call him.

He's my great-uncle, actually, my father's uncle. Cregan is his son. I suppose that makes him a cousin, but we always called him uncle. Now they mean to make me call him husband. - Jon IX, ADWD

↓

"Wed?" Sansa was stunned. "You and my aunt?" - Sansa VI, ASOS

"I am Alayne, Father. Who else would I be?" - Sansa I, AFFC

Perhaps you're wondering how we arrived at this point. Long ago, Alys' father desired her to marry the future Lord of Winterfell. Unfortunately, at that time, she was too young to captivate him with her charm.

"It is my own fault. My lord father told me I must charm your brother Robb, but I was only six and didn't know how." - Jon X, ADWD

↓

Charm him. Entrance him. Bewitch him. "If you insist." - Alayne I, TWOW

Instead, she was betrothed to Daryn Hornwood, and they were patiently awaiting her coming of age.

Before the war I was betrothed to Daryn Hornwood. We were only waiting till I flowered to be wed - Jon IX, ADWD

↓

If they do that … why, then we shall know that there is no taint in your blood, and when you come into the flower of your womanhood, you shall wed the king in the Great Sept of Baelor, before the eyes of gods and men. - Sansa IV, AGOT

Sadly, Daryn Hornwood died in the war. Rickard Karstark was forced to find her another lord to marry.

My father wrote that he would find some southron lord to wed me, but he never did. - Jon IX, ADWD

↓

When you're old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who's worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. - Sansa III, AGOT

Of course all that went to shit when Rickard Karstark got his head cut off.

Your brother Robb cut off his head for killing Lannisters. - Jon IX, ADWD

↓

"But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!" - Arya V, AGOT

Now, it's worth mentioning that Alys' older brother Harrion is the rightful heir to Karhold. However, if he were to die, Alys would inherit Karhold, which ambitious men like her uncles are aware of.

Should my brother die, Karhold should pass to me, but my uncles want my birthright for their own. - Jon IX, ADWD

↓

"But he does not know you," Dontos insisted, "and he will not love you. Jonquil, Jonquil, open your sweet eyes, these Tyrells care nothing for you. It's your claim they mean to wed."

[...]

She never thought to have a claim, but with Bran and Rickon dead . . . It doesn't matter, there's still Robb, he's a man grown now, and soon he'll wed and have a son. - Sansa II, ASOS

"The man who weds Sansa Stark can claim Winterfell in her name," his uncle Kevan put in. "Had that not occurred to you?" - Tyrion IV, ASOS

"Winterfell has withstood fiercer enemies than me. It is Winterfell, is it not?"

"Yes," Sansa admitted.

He walked along outside the walls. "I used to dream of it, in those years after Cat went north with Eddard Stark. In my dreams it was ever a dark place, and cold." - Sansa VII, ASOS

Thankfully, most people in this story are familiar with the rules of succession.

If her brother is dead, Karhold belongs to Lady Alys. - Jon X, ADWD

↓

Jon said, "Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa." - Jon IV, ADWD

Hence, the arranged marriage. Enter Cregan Karstark, a dangerous man who covets her birthright. He has a dark history, having buried multiple wives, and he would no longer need Alys if she ever had his child.

Once Cregan gets a child by me they won't need me anymore. He's buried two wives already. - Jon IX, ADWD

↓

"Only Cat." He gave her a short, sharp shove.

Lysa stumbled backward, her feet slipping on the wet marble. - Sansa VII, ASOS

Arya's gone, the same as Bran and Rickon, and they'll kill Sansa too once the dwarf gets a child from her. - Catelyn V, ASOS

Fear not, for this story finds a happy ending. Before her not-uncle can get his hands on her, our hero Jon Snow intervenes and arranges a marriage between Alys and a wildling, ensuring her safety and happiness.

"So," said Alys, as Jon poured, "I am now a woman wed. A wildling husband with his own little wildling army." - Jon X, ADWD

↓

I see what you are, Snow. Half a wolf and half a wildling, baseborn get of a traitor and a whore. - Jon X, ADWD

The guy is such a white knight, he even daydreams of gifting her Cregan's head! (Thank you @that-plo-koon for that one.)

I should make his head a wedding gift for Lady Alys and her Magnar, Jon thought, but dare not take the risk. - Jon X, ADWD

↓

[...] wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. - Sansa VI, AGOT

"Tromp tromp I'm a giant, I'm a giant," he chanted. "Ho ho ho, open your gates or I'll mash them and smash them." - Sansa VII

[...]

A mad rage seized hold of her. She picked up a broken branch and smashed the torn doll's head down on top of it, then pushed it down atop the shattered gatehouse of her snow castle. The servants looked aghast, but when Littlefinger saw what she'd done he laughed. "If the tales be true, that's not the first giant to end up with his head on Winterfell's walls." - Sansa VII, ASOS

Isn't that a great story? Other than a few amusing nuggets, that mostly covers everything.

My brother Harry is the rightful lord - Jon IX, ADWD [Brother Harry]

↓

"Harry the Heir?" - Alayne II, AFFC [Father Harry]

Jon turned to Alys Karstark. "My lady. Are you ready?" - Jon X, ADWD [Sister Alys]

↓

Your bastard daughter Alys, Alayne thought - Alayne I, TWOW [Daughter Alys]

So that's Alys Karstark, the girl George had us believing Jon Snow was marrying, in a chapter likely intended to follow this one.

While we're on the topic of that Jon Snow fakeout wedding, can I tell you what my favourite passage was?

The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. "Let him be scared of me." The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace that Satin had found somewhere, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. Her cheeks were flushed and red, and her eyes sparkled. - Jon X, ADWD

Ha ha ha! Me too, bud. I am also reminded of your little sister.

Boy, what a ride that was.

Final thoughts:

Fam,

WE DID IT!

I can't believe I finished.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #twow #alayne i #sansa i

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une-sanz-pluis · 21 days

Note

What do we know about the relationship between Edward III and Henry IV? I find it quite intriguing that he was inducted into the Order of the Garter together with Richard II ( and in fact were the last two people to be admitted by Edward III) while he didn't bother to do the same for Thomas of Woodstock so this should imply some special fondness which Edward had for Harry. But on the other hand, Richard lost his father and elder brother quite early so Edward may have thought that there is a real likelihood of the same happening to Richard which would have ensured that Henry would become king in the future ( through John of Gaunt) so his knighting could reflect Edward wishing to knight someone whom he deemed had a viable chance of succeeding him. And this is why I am so curious about the relationship that Edward III had with Henry Bolingbroke.

Unfortunately, we don't know know anything about their relationship beyond the fact that Henry was knighted in April 1377. It's impossible to say what kind of contact they had before then, the evidence just isn't there. Edward III seems to have relied on John of Gaunt in his later years and both Edward and Philippa of Hainault seemed to have had a close relationship with Henry's mother, Blanche of Lancaster. According to Chris Given-Wilson, Henry spent his childhood in the Blanche, Lady Wake's household, then at Tutbury and then in the future Richard II's court. It seems possible that there was some contact between Edward and Henry before the St. George's day festivities but it's impossible to say for sure if there was or what kind of contact there was. I think there was probably very little contact due to Henry's youth and Edward's declining health. I think it's likely Edward thought fondly of Henry, even if he probably knew very little about him.

I'm afraid that I'm very resistant to the idea that anyone had any serious expectation Henry would one day be king, mainly out of spite at Ian Mortimer, lol. I think there was an awareness of the possibility - Edward's only brother died when he was young, he had several children predecease him - but I think the only people who seriously believed that Richard would die and Gaunt or Gaunt's son would become king were those who thought Gaunt was planning to murder Richard. Hell, Henry was Gaunt's only legitimately born son who lived to see 1377 so Edward could have harboured fears that Henry might drop dead just as much as, if not more so, than Richard might. The Order of the Garter had a strictly limited membership: no more than 24 members (plus the monarch and Prince of Wales) - Richard was likely stepping into his father's place as the new Prince of Wales, which meant only one slot was available. Why Henry and not Thomas of Woodstock? Beyond the fact that Edward seems to have neglected Woodstock's public career (he was knighted very late in life compared to his brothers, he had to wait until 1385 for a dukedom), inducting Henry into the Order of the Garter may have been a gesture of support or gratitude for Gaunt, given that Gaunt was basically running the country for Edward and bearing the brunt of public hate.

#thomas of woodstock: [developing even more of a complex]#edward iii #henry iv #ask #harryofderby #i'm sorry i am just Big Mad at the stupid lengths ian mortimer takes the edict to #'henry was RAISED to be king he RAISED his son to be king!'#its pretty obvious henry was modelling his career off henry of grosmont not edward iii and as at least one scholar pointed out #henry's kids had the education expected for nobility not kingship #(and there's the fact that henry named none of his kids after edward iii... which is a thing you would do if you expected to #become king... like his heir was named henry and his spare was named thomas. they were raised to be lancastrians through and through)#anyway enough about a bad historian

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catalinadearagonsblog · 1 year

Text

Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn

Part One

Two women destined to be rivals in love, in power and in religion. One is the daughter of royalty, destined to become Queen of England since she was a baby. Her first husband died suddenly, and she married her brother-in-law, the young King Henry VIII. The other woman is the daughter of a family on the rise at court. She has been educated in courts abroad but has returned to her native England to serve the Queen of England.

Katherine of Aragon, a beloved Queen by English people, had "failed" to give Henry VIII a son. The royal couple had a pretty and intelligent daughter named Mary. Knew her duty, Katherine was to keep silent and look the other way when Henry took a mistress, which she did. The young Anne Boleyn was the sister of the King's mistress, and she quickly established herself as one of the most stylish and accomplished women at the court. George Cavendish, Wolsey’s servant and biographer, has argued that Henry VIII was "casting amorous eyes" towards Anne as early as 1523.

In 1523, Anne Boleyn's life revolved around her duties within the Queen's household. Katherine liked to surround herself with attractive young women, often to her own detriment, and was a benevolent mistress to those who served her, never failing in courtesy towards them, and taking an almost maternal interest in their lives. Young men were made welcome in the Queen's apartments, and there were plenty of opportunities for flirtation. Anne had attracted a number of suitors, and one young man who was smitten with her charms was Henry Percy, the 21-year-old heir to the earldom of Northumberland. Percy was the Cardinal Wolsey's servitor at table; whenever Wolsey went to court, Percy would go with him, but as soon as he had been excused from his duties, he would resort to the Queen's apartments, there to chat and flirt with the maids of honour. Thus he had met Anne Boleyn, and before very long he had eyes for no one else.

According to Cavendish, Anne’s burgeoning romance with Percy was stifled by Wolsey, acting upon Henry’s instructions because the king confessed to his loyal cardinal that he had a “secret affection” for the lady himself. Anne was sent away from court in disgrace to Hever. She spent her time idly waiting for a summons back to court and the signal that she had been forgiven. By late 1525 or early 1526 Anne Boleyn was back in the household of Queen Katherine. Henry VIII’s affair with Anne’s sister, Mary, had ended some time before 1526. He was therefore looking for a new mistress during the early months of that year when he first noticed the object of his friend, Thomas Wyatt’s, affections. Wyatt may not, at first, have realised how serious the king’s feelings were and he attempted to compete with the king for Anne. Wyatt was sent away for a time to ensure that the way was clear for the king to make his advances.

Since Henry could not marry her Anne probably enjoyed a mild flirtation with him but, ultimately, stopped short of agreeing to become his mistress. Henry, who was used to women surrendering the instant he beckoned, was intrigued. It was new for him to be placed in the position of having to beg for sexual favours; far from being angry or irritated, he was captivated, and Anne at once became infinitely more desirable. According to Anne's biographer, George Wyatt, Queen Katherine tried to protect her maid of honour from the monarch’s amorous advances and Anne remained loyal to her queen: "how could I injure a princess of such great virtue?". Anne resisted Henry for over a year, frequently absenting herself from court and his presence. He cajoled and pleaded. He made promises and gave gifts. Above all, he wrote letters. Anne’s feelings were in turmoil following the king’s offer of marriage and she expressed this fact in a gift she sent to Henry along with her acceptance.

In May 1527 Henry initiated annulment proceedings to rid himself of the ageing Queen Katherine. He wanted a declaration that his marriage to Katherine was invalid. This would mean not only that Henry was unmarried in 1527 but that he had never been married in 1509. According to this line of argument, therefore, Katherine’s status was once more that of the widow of his brother Arthur – the Princess Dowager of Wales – and princess Mary a bastard. For Katherine, then, it was as though the Crusades were on her own doorstep. The “secret matter” started of for the queen as a straightforward struggle to make Henry overcome his unfounded scruples of conscience and return to her as her God-given husband, but it escalated over the years into a battle not just for herself and her daughter but for the preservation of nothing less than her “Holy Catholic Faith” itself.

In 1528, Henry housed both women together under the same roof at Greenwich. Henry began showering Anne with fine jewellery and clothes, and saw that she was lodged in splendid apartments close to that of the King. The courtiers made much of her, using her as an intermediary between themselves and the King, and she was soon revelling in her growing influence and power. To confuse things further, both Katherine and Henry still felt obliged to behave in public as if nothing untoward was happening. It seems that the queen went out of her way to meet Anne and Henry, singly and together, using her presence in an attempt to divide, or at least chaperone them. George Wyatt also talks of card games that Katherine instigated with Anne, in an apparent attempt to make Anne show her deformed finger (if you believe she had one!), and Katherine’s famous remark to Anne: "My lady Anne, you have good hap to stop at a king, but you are not like others, you will have all or none”. On the other hand, Katherine behaved impeccably, never showing any spark or kind of grudge or displeasure. According to George Cavendish, Queen Katherine showed Anne special tenderness:

Notwithstanding, she showed neither to Mistress Anne nor unto the king, any spark or kind of grudge or displeasure, but took and accepted all things in good part, and with wisdom and great patience dissimulated the same. She held Mistress Anne in more estimation for the king’s sake than she had before.

Perhaps Katherine decided it was safest to keep her enemy close and that her presence would prove restrictive to the pair, preventing them achieving greater intimacy or plotting her downfall behind her back. Also, she would have maintained that as England’s anointed queen of eighteen years, it was her right and her duty to be visible at court, in the palaces she had been inhabiting for so long, accessible to the people and served at table according to her due. She may have hoped that her presence would be enough to provoke Anne to shame or drive her away. Anne must have found the proximity to her rival oppressive and she often spent time at Hever in the early years of the divorce proceedings.

The Boleyn family received honours from the king. Sir Thomas Boleyn became Earl of Wiltshire and Ormonde; Anne's brother George received the title of Viscount Rochford, while she herself was in future to be known as the Lady Anne Rochford. At a state banquet held to mark the occasion, Anne took precedence over all the ladies present (who did not include Queen Katherine) and was given the place of honour at the King's side. 'The very place allotted to a crowned Queen', wrote the Emperor's ambassador indignantly. Henry was giving Anne every honour he could, every mark of respect – she was being openly treated as if she were already queen. Anne was given her own court, which rivalled the queen’s. Greater court, noted the French ambassador, was being paid to her every day ‘than has been paid to the Queen for a long time’. Henry was determined to show that he was deeply committed to marrying Anne. "kissing her and treating her in public as though she were his wife" according to the papal legate, Cardinal Campeggio.

Sources:

Licence, Amy. Anne Boleyn: Adultery, Heresy , Desire

Weir, Alison. The Six Wives of Henry VIII

Fox, Julia. Sister queens : the noble, tragic lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana, Queen of Castile

Tremlett, Giles. Catherine of Aragon: Henry’s Spanish Queen

Fraser, Antonia. The Six Wives of Henry VIII

#catherine of aragon #katherine of aragon #catalina de aragon #henry viii #catalina de aragón #anne boleyn

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ktwrites · 1 month

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70 AC- Harrenhal

“Mother, I want to come with you.”

It was a simple request, not even a question, from Alysanne’s ten-year-old daughter Alyssa a mere two days before she was set to leave for her annual journey to White Harbor to hold her women’s court. Two years ago- to celebrate the twentieth year of Jaehaerys’s reign- she had started conducting them once a year in three different areas of the kingdom. A sennight a piece spent in Highgarden, Lannisport, and White Harbor every year ensured the voices of the women of the realm were heard.

This year, however, had been different. With the wedding of her eldest son Aemon to her half-sister Jocelyn set to take place just before year's end, and with another child due just after the new year Alysanne knew she would need to adjust her plans. Rather than hold her women’s court at White Harbor in the year after the birth of her tenth child due to the distance she would need to traverse, the queen decided to travel to the seat of House Manderly for the second time in just six months.

“She asked to come?” Rhaena asked her younger sister as she handed Alysanne a glass of wine.

Due to the distance between King’s Landing and White Harbor, Alysanne chose to break up the trip into two days of travel, sending the rest of her retinue ahead long before she and Alyssa took flight on Silverwing. Harrenhal may not quite have been the halfway point between the two locales, but she could not pass up the chance to visit her older sister.

“She did,” Alysanne confirmed.”I think she’s feeling a bit…left out amongst the wedding preparations for Aemon and Jocelyn and now she has me all to herself for a time.”

“And will Lord Stark be once again escorting the retinue from Winterfell as he did six months ago?”

Ever the elder sister, Rhaena Targaryen cut straight to the heart of the matter. It was true that Alaric had made a point to escort the women from Winterfell to White Harbor. It was a matter of safety, he had explained to Lord Manderly, and since the untimely deaths of both of his sons the Warden of the North felt compelled to take on the task himself.

Of course he could not tell his bannerman that he would not pass up the chance to see his queen. Of course he could not tell him that the letters they exchanged over the years simply did not suffice. Of course no one could know that Alaric kept the queen’s company each night during their stay at White Harbor. No one had been privy to any of this save for Alaric, Alysanne, and the Scarlet Shadow, Jonquil Darke.

But there were some secrets that could not be kept from the likes of an observant older sister.

“He will,” Alysanne nodded slowly.

“And remind me again when your babe is due?”

“Three turns of the moon…or so.”

“Or so?”

“Don’t look at me like that, Rhaena.”

#got fanfiction #alysanne targaryen #alaric stark #Alysanne x Alaric #fire & blood

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skiplo-wave · 11 days

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I love Bridgerton too. But they could do away with some of these sex scenes. However, I am glad to see Colin and Penelope together (aka the couple that got freaky in the carriage lol). To be fair, this was written in the early 2000s. I read more cringe stuff on Wattspad. There are 8 books in total. So we are looking at several seasons. They also did a spin off about Queen Charlotte and King George which I enjoyed a little bit more than the Bridgerton series. They like to play with history and fiction. But we get a eye opener of what it was like as a upper-class woman in the early 1800s. It's definitely not all glamour.

In the very first season, it's Daphne Bridgerton season. She pretends to be in a relationship with a duke named Simon Basset. Of course they end up falling in love. Simon had a troubled childhood. He had a speech impediment which he corrected. Simon lies to Daphne about not being able to have children. See women during this era was protected. They was not told about sex and where babies came from until they was married. The reasoning behind this was that it ensured their future spouse that they was still virgins. The less they knew the better, BUT not necessarily. Simon did not want children for various reasons and he knew Daphne would not have knowledge in this. So during their intimacy he would always pull out. Eventually Daphne would figure out the truth. One night during their loving making, Daphne forces herself on top of him so he would have to finish. Now this part has a bit of controversy. People argue that Daphne r/p/d him and there's the other side saying that Daphne literally just learned how procreation is done. How would she know what was wrong at this point? Simon technically could had pushed her off. But also Simon lied too her. Simon knew Daphne was naive in this. So why have sex with her too begin with? That is wrong too. Sex and lies is disgusting. It's a whole mess. But this is not raised in question in the actual story. Daphne and Simon bicker about his lies etc etc. Daphne wanted separate rooms but Simon did not want her too move. For one he did love her, but he also wanted to wait until he knew if she was with child or not. Daphne did not get pregnant though (yet). She started bleeding after a ball.

Eventually the two would makeup and have a baby.

Anon I saw king George and nearly checked out cause

Is bridgeton based off real people???

#asks

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percontaion-points · 11 months

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Firstlife chapter 13

Today’s review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 13

“Reality exists within the scope of your senses. If you feel it, it’s real.” —Myriad

I don’t mean to rain on the author’s parade, but some people feel that they’re George Washington. It doesn’t mean that they’re right.

Again, I feel like there’s a missed opportunity for an entire “You aren’t an angel/devil; you are mentally ill” subplot here. But that would probably require way more self-awareness than this author is capable of.

“Your contract will last your Second-death. We will ensure your Firstlife is filled with fame and riches that far surpass anything your parents ever achieved, and in your Everlife, you’ll be given a place of honor inside the palace, as well as any other home you desire. If you want it, you get it, even if it’s occupied. You will never lack for anything. You will have servants, and you will answer only to our King.”

[...]

“But...how do you even know I’m an Abrogate?”

“For starters, you’re Fused with a General.”

He drops the news as if I’m supposed to coo with excitement. Thing is, I’m not even slightly startled. I should have guessed this was always about the spirit I’m supposedly Fused with, not me.

Again, without any basis of comparison, I can only assume that they offer this shit to pretty much everybody.

I think the only person we’ve seen is Clay, who was offered the job as messenger. But zero details on anything else he might have been offered.

“Abrogates are Generals, and Generals are decisive, right? They make battle plans.”

I think the biggest mistake that the spirits are making is expecting for an indecisive 17 year old girl to lead the charge into battle.

There’s a reason why the military’s current structure is based on experience. No more can you simply buy your way into a good military title.

“You don’t know what Generals are. You’ve never spoken to one.”

I’ve personally never spoken to a military general, this is true. But that doesn’t magically stop me from knowing what they are.

“I like listening to your onesided conversations.”

He’s heard my sleep talking? Great! “What have I said?”

“Ten’s tears fall...”

“No. Ten tears fall. The number ten.”

“No. You clearly said Ten’s tears. Your name.”

Wow, it’s almost like her name is a fucking number or something. How weird is that?

“Your parents haven’t been told of your escape...yet.” That’s something, at least.

“Why the reprieve?”

“Prynne has only informed parents of the deceased, and I requested Myriad keep quiet about you. Your parents...annoy me. Your mother is hiding something, and your father is an adulterous prick.”

Finally, some good news.

I won’t think about my dad’s infidelity and the mental hatchet job it must be doing on my mom.

Jeez, no wonder her mom’s a basket case. She left everything she knew behind when she was 18 for a boy. This boy grew up to be an emotionally abusive jerkwad who shipped their only child off to be waterboarded the second she thought about being rebellious. And then the man has the audacity to cheat on her? And then he has the goddamned gumption to say that it’s HER who is ruining the family?

Buddy, you ever look in a mirror recently?

The plane jiggles again, but at first, I don’t really care. Not anymore. When it continues, growing increasingly more violent, I freaking care. I freaking care a lot. The bin above us pops open and my backpack spills out as the nose of plane dips at a more acute angle. If not for our seat belts, we would have pitched forward.

This isn’t normal.

I’m nearing full-blown panic when the pilot steps from the cockpit, a bag slung over his shoulders. He moves swiftly, avoiding our gazes.

That’s 100% normal and a perfectly good sign!

He didn’t want me to wind up in Many Ends. And he might have lost his Secondlife for it.

Chapter 13 summary: As you can imagine, the plane is one of those shitty little puddlejumpers; meant for short trips. I can’t even imagine that it would make it to anywhere in the continental USA; the entire thing seems like a joke. Anyway, Ten hates how it shakes and bounces. She sleeps some, but when she wakes up, she asks Killian to sell her on Myriad.

He promises her riches beyond her wildest dreams, and power to go with it. She’s like “You putting me in charge of anything seems like the set-up for a shitshow.” However, they’re all so convinced that she’s the reincarnation of some general. He tells her that the generals all died in a big attack right before she was born. That normal people’s spirits don’t glow like that. She’s like “Sounds like you’re selling me some real baloney, you know.”

The plane starts to shake real bad. Which is concerning enough. But then the pilot comes out and he’s like “Hasta la vista, baby.” and then jumps out with a parachute. Killian goes to the front to try and land it, but then comes back and says that he can’t. He begs the girls to sign. Ten begs him to leave his shell, or else he’ll have his seconddeath.

Ten wakes up in a strange place and wanders around without reason for 2 whole pages. Then she wakes up again. Turns out that she’d died a little, and ended up in Many Ends, the purgatory. But Archer (who she and Sloan called when the plane was crashing) showed up and brought her back to life. Sloan is okay, and is being tended to by a friend of Archer’s. He doesn’t know what happened to Killian.

#Firstlife #Everlife series #chapter 13 #untreated mental illness #Tenley 'Ten' Lockwood #Killian Flynn #shitty society is shitty #do you even know how the world works?#HEADDESKING #Sloan (Everlife)#Archer Prince

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simonmlewis · 11 months

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Do I Remember the Second Time?

Most people think about the first time they saw Pulp live when they sing "Do you remember the first time?" Mine was 1994 and it was in the SFX in Dublin, 5 days before Common People was released. I was a mis-shaped, misfit, and the gig changed my life. Where I went to school, everyone wore Global Technicolour t-shirts and chewed the insides of their mouth. They weren't actually on ecstacy, it seemed to be a cool thing to do. I left my classmates to their raves and went to watch bands like Fluffy and the Bluetones. But it wasn't until Pulp's SFX gig, where I felt home with 800 other indie kids.

I watched them a couple of years later in the Point and there were many many more kindred spirits in the crowd by then. I've seen them a few times when they've come to Ireland (though I skipped the post-This is Hardcore gigs, to my regret.)

However, "Do you remember the first time?" took on a different meaning this year. Ten years after their last gig, after which I didn't sleep for three days (due to non-chemically induced ecstacy) they were back, for their This is What We Do for an Encore tour. Rozz and I booked into a hotel in Dublin, had a drink, and we were ready for action! Long story short, Rozz and I aren't drinkers, and we had forgotten the adage of never mixing grape with grain. There is video evidence of us having the greatest night of our lives. The next morning, I logged on to Ticketmaster to see if I could find any way to see them again so I wouldn't live in eternal regret.

All the dedicated Pulp gigs had long sold out so I found myself paying way over the odds to see them at TRNSMT, an annual festival in Glasgow.

Glasgow is a cool city, famous for this statue and this square with loads of statues, ☝🏼 but that was not important. I had this 👇🏼

I stayed in the Crown Plaza hotel and checked in. I'm almost certain they had no idea what they were doing when they were allocating my room but I very much appreciated the gesture.

My room didn't have a bolt across the door. Just as well.

Pulp weren't playing until after 9pm but I thought it would be a good idea to go a bit early so whipped on my His n Hers t-shirt that nobody recognises as a His n Hers t-shirt. With the pang of double wines still fresh in my memory, I thought that I may as well get some value out of my ticket, and get there early enough. Paul Heaton of Housemartins and Beautiful South fame was playing at 4:30 so I thought that would be a good time to start.

The strongest thing that passed my lips was Us+Them coffee and Scran's chicken shawarma. The woman at the box office strapped my silver grey band to my wrist and in I went.

My game plan was to ensure I got as close to the stage as possible for Pulp without having to stand through Niall Horan and George Ezra so I did my test run for Paul Heaton.

I really enjoyed his set and I knew quite a few of the songs. I ended up standing beside a guy with a Union Jack hat who booed Heaton when he sang "F**k the King" and revealed his co-singer's football team was Celtic. I had my line "I support Patrick Thistle" ready even though I haven't even looked at the Scottish League table since the 1990s. Heaton sang a good few Beautiful South and House Martin's songs. He ended with Caravan of Love, which was great.

As planned, I skipped Niall Horan completely in search of food but walked by the stage as he was covering a Tears for Fears song, which probably would have been tolerable had I have bothered standing in the pit. I watched a band on the King Tut stage, mainly a refuge for older people trying to drown out Horan but gave up after a few songs. I found myself some grub and someone smiled at and commented on my t-shirt (FINALLY!) To celebrate I grabbed my first beer and sat on a picnic table. I had a lovely chat with the people sitting there and before I knew it my phone binged a notification. One hour to go. Time for my masterplan.

I calculated that George Ezra fans would not be Pulp fans so I decided to hang out at the edge of the first few rows for the last 3 songs of his set. I knew two of the songs and it didn't make me like him any more or less than I had before. I possibly tapped my toe to the chorus of his last song, the one about yellow and green, which might be about one of the wires in a plug? Anyway, once he had cleared off, hordes of teenagers changed places with people my age. It seems I was not unique in my plan. I found myself squashed between two friends who were now in their 40s and a very young couple who seemed to like Pulp a lot. Although there were more very young people there than I'd have liked, I was happy enough with that. I chatted to a few of them who kept listing other bands they thought I might like.

One thing I remembered from Dublin was to keep an eye on the screens on the sides of the stage as the beginning of I Spy began.

And just like Dublin, up popped Jarvis...

It was as joyous as I don't remember the first time being. The setlist was pretty much the same (minus Razzamatazz) and it basically filled in the gaps of the forgotten evening. After I Spy, Disco 2000 got everyone going, partially because it was one of two songs that the young people knew.

I learned one of the women I met also had Something Changed as her wedding song. She cried all the way through it. I missed Rozz being there.

Another thing I noticed was that I was bopping a lot more than most of the people around me. I think that might have been the difference between the first gig and this one. There were a lot of people there that didn't know Pulp that well. I didn't care. I happily took on the "annoying old man trying to relive his youth" role.

There were too many highlights to mention. I videoed a little bit of "Mis-shapes" for Emrys because it's his favourite song. "Do you remember the first time?" took on its new meaning for me, and it was followed by Babies, which was just amazing. I was slightly relieved when Sunrise started because I thought I was going to faint from all my jumping. I imagine the people around me were too. I never realised what a brilliant song that was. Weeds and Pink Glove were also surprise highlights. "This is Hardcore" was stunningly good and also gave me a break from jumping but "Sorted for Es and Whizz" got me bouncing again. Nobody was chewing their inner mouth.

I'm not quite sure why but Jarvis sang Happy Birthday to Ringo Starr and threw chocolates at the crowd to celebrate World Chocolate Day. Even more puzzling, he read a poem.

I didn't recognise it. My guess is that he googled "very short Scottish poem" and that was it.

The encore was the same as Dublin. I was surprised by how many people knew Like a Friend. I didn't really know it that well. Maybe young people knew it from a film it was in? As the crowd got restless for Common People, I knew Underwear was coming first and I was possibly the most excited person in the crowd. Jarvis may have introduced it as foth-éadaí in Dublin but I don't remember. It didn't matter, it was perfect for the song everyone was waiting for. Like it or not, even if this was the only song most people were here for, there's nothing like standing with thousands of people belting it out. Jarvis teased the crowd asking had he left a song out and suggested "Pencil Skirt" before he gave everyone what they wanted. It was pure pure joy. Complete with fireworks, we chanted "I wanna live with Common People like you" over and over again, and I hoped we'd never stop. La la, la la la la la, oh you. The stage flashed. And then it was over.

I said my goodbyes to my new friends and off I walked to my hotel, back to the 15th floor, the music buzzing in my ears all night. I might not have remembered the first time, but I'll never forget the second.

#pulp #trnsmt

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lizardtracks · 1 year

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April 19, 1775

248 years ago today, April 19, 1775, a transatlantic tyrant sent an expeditionary detachment of his professional army to disarm his rebel colonies. The militia that met them, though doubtless not as well regulated, bested those British regulars in a running battle from Lexington to Concord and back to the Roxbury Neck. History can land on many reasons for this repulsion, but rest assured that among those reasons was the fact that those everyday people were carrying the very same weapons of war their opponents used.

Fast forward to June 1788. New Hampshire ratified this emerging nation’s Constitution officially creating our new government. Ratification was hardly a forgone conclusion. We think of our Founding Fathers as all being on the same page, and perhaps aligning the country behind them. But not so. John Hancock, Patrick Henry and Samuel Adams were famously anti-federalists. In their view the Constitution elevated federal power too far above state and individual power. What defeated anti-federalism—or better worded, perhaps, what overcame the objections to federalism—was the inclusion of a Bill of Rights.

Included in the finally accepted ten amendments is the now infamous Second Amendment. With a quarter of a millennium passing since 1775 it's easy for us to fudge the meaning of its words. But barely half a score had passed between Concord and ratification. The men who insisted on the wording of the Second Amendment were not students of our revolutionary history. They had lived it. Their names were on documents which, in our defeat, would have ensured they were hanged. Patrick Henry knew that the Minutemen mustered on April 19, 1775 with weapons of war. These were not weapons bestowed on them by a nation grateful to outsource the coming violence. These were weapons brave men had taken down from their own mantles. It might puzzle him that our current students of history, and even our president himself, could insist that the Second Amendment has a meaning other than the one he himself intended. It is there because Americans have an inalienable right to defend their life, liberty and property.

The slippage from this original meaning is gradual. If our current disarmament were to come marching in red coats on a bright April morning, we might resist it—as our brothers in arms did in 1775. But it dribbles in one law, or lawsuit, at a time. We have already had actual weapons of war essentially removed from the hands of America's citizens. It's known as the the National Firearms Act of 1934. Since its passage a total of 20,000 laws at the federal, state and local levels have chipped away at both the value and meaning of the Second Amendment.

Emboldened, even our very president would now join King George in disarming America. You can picture him standing on the sidelines two months later at Breeds Hill deriding the patriots as “sick.” This is not supposition. This is not conjecture. He has already used that very word to describe armed Americans. And he is not done. Given the opportunity, he has sworn to do what the Redcoats who marched inland from Boston Harbor failed to do: disarm us.

Will he succeed? No. He is too old to see that day. But his successors will not relent. And given enough time they will get their wish. You see, this time they are not coming for your guns with fifes and drums. We will not be meeting them in an open field on a beautiful New England spring day. Armed citizens at Breeds Hill stood on the high ground. But today it feels more like the frozen winter of Valley Forge. Every gun owner is viewed as a maniac; every gun purchase is viewed as a potential crime. And, yes, the Bruen decision was far reaching. But Breyer, in his dissenting opinion, sounds less like a student of the English Bill of Rights or Declaration of Independence and more like an an apologist for Big Brother. His dissenting opinion lays a carefully crafted groundwork for later courts whose 5-4 goes the other direction.

They will just keep chipping away. They will keep adding to Title 18 United States Code Sections blah blah blah, until it collapses under its own weight. They will pile act upon act and lawsuit upon lawsuit. Until we are all safe.

Except that we won’t be. No citizenry unprepared to defend itself will ever be safe. We will just be timorous mice watching hobnail boots stomping past our mouse holes.

#lexington #concord #revolution #freedom #minutemen

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phoenixmaiden-gaming · 1 year

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Assassin’s Creed IV: Black Flag part 41

Yet another short day because I started late, I got distracted, lol. Anyway, I continued on the story line to get to Kingston where I met with an Assassin at the Bureau and he told me Rogers was in town throwing a party. I had to find a disguise and sneak in and kill him. Easy peasy. Then I did some sea battles.

I made it to Kingston and found the Bureau where there was an Assassin that I had worked with before. He said that the Templar Rogers is attending a political Function here in Kingston, so it has to be a clean kill. The word is that King George is calling Rogers back to London because of the mess that happened in Nassau, so it had to be now.

The Assassin said that I would need a disguise to get into the party and he suggested a visiting diplomat. He was on their list of kills anyway. So Kenway left his weapons, swords, and guns there so they wouldn’t attract attention.

Kenway also asked the Assassin to deliver a letter to his wife Caroline. I wonder what he will happen with that.

Then it was time to find the diplomat. He was easy enough to find, he was loud and rude and kept criticizing the town. One of the objectives for this mission was to kill the diplomat from a haystack, so I aimed for that and got caught a lot as I looked around for the haystack.

I was able to find the haystack in the first location where the diplomat was vulnerable. Since I was caught so much I knew his route, so I went ahead of him as he walked, always keeping him in sight. Then in the first location I climbed the building and dropped down into the haystack and when he was close to me I killed him and took his clothes.

I then had to go to the party and walked right in while pretending to be the Italian diplomat. That was really easy.

I continued in and I could hear Rogers making a speech and not a happy one. He was mad and bitter at the King because he was calling him back to England. Even after his success in having over 300 pirates take the pardon he was taking away his Governor position here in the Bahamas.

Once Rogers was done with his speech he started moving around and I had to make it to a safe place because he would spot me. There was also another objective to kill him from a bench so I went in search of a bench.

I found one between two people and I just had to wait for Rogers to pass by, then I grabbed him and used the hidden blades to take him out.

Then it was the death scene. Kenway said that Rogers was a Privateer once and how could he lack so much respect for sailors trying to make their way in this world. Rogers said he couldn’t understand his motives. Not while people like him dismantling everything that makes their civilization shine.

But Kenway said he understood. He’s seen the Observatory and knows its Power. They would use the device to spy, blackmail and sabotage. Rogers said that they would for a greater purpose, to ensure justice. To see what are lies and what is truth. Kenway just said that no one should have that kind of power.

Rogers just scoffed because he allowed Roberts to use it. Kenway said he aimed to take it back and wanted Rogers to tell him where he was and he will stop him.

Rogers laughed silently in disbelief, he was about to die and he finally finds that he could rely on Kenway for something. He then said that Roberts was last reported by his sources to be in Principé. Then he died.

It was then just a matter of escaping the area and hiding until suspicion was gone. It was easy enough to escape but a big crowd of soldiers chased after me and I had to wait quite a while for them all to disburse while they looked for me.

I made it back to the Assassin’s Bureau and told the Assassin that the job was done. Anne asked where they were going now and Kenway said they were going to Africa.

Kenway grabbed the rest of his weapons and with a nod to the Assassin, they left and the mission ended. (S12/M1 - Mission: A Governor No Longer - Complete).

I then spent a lot of time fighting against ships to get materials. I wanted to do some ship upgrades. I needed a lot of metal so I went after ships that gave that when I won.

I stopped after several sea battles, I still need a few more to get the last mortar upgrade and them more for the broadside cannons. I want to fully upgrade my ship. Next mission is to go after Roberts so I have that to look forward to. I wonder what Kenway will do once he gets the crystal skull. Will he give it to the Assassins? Or will he destroy it? Honestly I can see it going both ways. But I’ll have to wait to find out. That’s all for now. Until next time. Happy Gaming!

#phoenix be gaming #Assassin's Creed IV Black Flag #PC Games #Steam Games #gaming #gameplay #playthrough #game #games #video games #gamer #gamer fun #gamer girl #gamer life #Entertainment #Nothing is Queue Everything is Permitted

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recoverylong · 2 years

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Clash of kings audiobook download

#Clash of kings audiobook download series

The men paid her no mind, but she was not so lucky with the boys. Arya would have preferred a real horse, but the donkey was better than riding on a wagon. Teams of plow horses pulled the wagons, and Yoren had bought two coursers and a half-dozen donkeys for the boys. They took five wagons out of King's Landing, laden with supplies for the Wall: hides and bolts of cloth, bars of pig iron, a cage of ravens, books and paper and ink, a bale of sourleaf, jars of oil, and chests of medicine and spices. One had no nose, only the hole in his face where it had been cut off, and the gross fat bald one with the pointed teeth and theweeping sores on his cheeks had eyes like nothing human. The worst were the three he'd found in the black cells who must have scared even him, because he kept them fettered hand and foot in the back of a wagon, and vowed they'd stay in irons all the way to the Wall. Yoren had taken grown men from the dungeons as well, thieves and poachers and rapers and the like. "The Watch needs good men," he told them as they set out, "but you lot will have to do." Yoren had plucked some from the streets with promises of food for their bellies and shoes for their feet. That wasn't the hardest part at all Lommy Greenhands and Hot Pie were the hardest part. Yoren was wrong about the pissing, though. When she remembered that, Arya decided to wish for Winterfell instead. But she knew it wouldn't, and anyhow Sansa was still in the cityĪnd would wash away too. She wished the Rush would rise and wash the whole city away, Flea Bottom and the Red Keep and the Great Sept and everything, and everyone too, especially Prince Joffrey and his mother. They were looking for a highborn girl, daughter of the King's Hand, not for a skinny boy with his hair chopped off. The Lannister guardsmen on the gate were stopping everyone, but Yoren called one by name and their wagons were waved through. Leaving King's Landing was easy, just like he'd said. That'll be the hardest part, the pissing, so don't drink no more'n you need." So you keep to yourself and make your water in the woods,alone. The other half'd do the same, only they'd rape you first. This lot, half o' them would turn you over to the queen quick as spit for a pardon and maybe a few silvers. "Lord Eddard gave me pick o' the dungeons, and I didn't find no little lordlings down there. I got thirty this time, men and boys all bound for the Wall, and don't be thinking they're like that bastard brother o' yours." He shook her. "Gate shouldn't be hard, but the road's another matter. "Now you hold still, boy." By the time he had finished, her scalp was nothing but tufts and stubble.Īfterward he told her that from there to Winterfell she'd be Arry the orphan boy. "I'm taking men and boys from the city," Yoren growled as the sharp steel scrapedĪt her head. She remembered how the breeze sent the fistfuls of dirty brown hair skittering across the paving stones, toward the sept where her father had died. Only held her tight, sawing through her mats and tangles with his dagger. When Yoren had dragged her into that alley she'd thought he meant to kill her, but the sour old man had R.At Winterfell they had called her "Arya Horseface" and she'd thought nothing could be worse, but that was before the orphan boy Lommy Greenhands had named her "Lumpyhead."

#Clash of kings audiobook download series

The new show starts April 17th so I will attempt to finish the book before it starts!Ī Song of Ice and Fire series by George R. Martin - Tired of waiting for a sequel that may never come? These excellent series have all either finished or have sequels with confirmed dates, ensuring that you won’t be left hanging. One of our librarians created this booklist: If you liked A Feast of Crows by George R. I have to admit to not knowing much about this author besides the fact that his fans are impatiently waiting for the next novel in the series. Of course I had to jump on the computer and “google” around for more information, and-not surprisingly-this show is based on a bestselling novel, A Game of Thrones by George R.R. I was intrigued because it featured medieval costumes, talk about honor, swords, and multiple and seemingly complex plot lines – just what any fantasy fan would want, right? Not to mention I wanted to know who or what these mysterious “white walkers” were everyone kept whispering about. The other day I saw a preview for a new show on HBO called Game of Thrones.

#Clash of kings audiobook download

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inky-duchess · 4 years

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Fantasy Guide to Royal Households and How they Work

When I say Households, I mean the entourage that follows around the royal family. The household went everywhere with them to care for their needs from the people who would empty their chamber pots to their noble companions. Most royal households are basically the same as noble ones, only on grander scale. Every royal had a household and an entourage as well as every noble at court.

Palace Personnel ~ The Commons

The commons were an intregal part of every household. They made up perhaps 80% of the work force. Royal courts were often on the road and never spent more than a few months at every palace. The court was constantly moving. Some positions were not permanent, meaning certain servants did not travel with the court because they were employed at the palace only. They would be paid by the Monarch's paymaster.

Scullion: The scullion was a relatively easy position to fill so they were often changed as the court went from palace to palace. They would be responsible for scrubbing and cleaning the servants quarters and the kitchens. They would scrub floors with lye, scour pots with sand, sweep put the fireplace and clean up after the other servants. They were the first to rise in a castle and tasked to light all the fires in the kitchens. Scullions would just be employed to the palace and serve a multitude of chambers

Laundress: The laundress was responsible for the cleaning of anything made of fabric in the household. Since they are handling unmentionables, they knew what happened behind closed bedchamber doors. They knew when the King visited the Queen or hadn't, they knew when marriages were consummated or not and they knew when the Queen and royal women were not pregnant. They often sold secrets to pad their pockets. Laundresses might be permanent staff but sometimes not.

Minstrels: The minstrel was a commoner hired to play an instrument or sing for the entertainment of the royal. A royal might staff a few at a time but they would always have one on hand. The minstrel would likely come with their masters as they travelled. The minstrel might serve the main royal household but a royal might retain their own.

Cook: The cook was one of the most important servants in the household. They would have the task of overseeing the running of the kitchens and keeping supplies in order. They would likely be on call at all times. Henry VIII's cook was often woken in the night because his royal master wanted a midnight snack. The cook was a valued member of the household and would have been highly sought after if they were a very skilled cook. They would have travelled with the joint. Cooks were apart of the greater royal household but often royals retained private cooks for their own use.

Maidservant: The maidservant cleans the castle. She would sweep the floors, scrub them, empty the chamberpots, get rid of the ashes from the fire and ready the fire for later. She would make up the bed or strip it for the laundresses. She would wash anything that needed washing including furniture and ornaments. She was likely not a travelling servant and would be strictly employed at a single palace.

Jester: The jester was the hired entertainer. Working under the master of revels, the jester had the daunting task of making the monarch and their family laugh. They would tell jokes, tell stories, cause havoc in the court for laughs and lighten the mood. The most successful jester of all time was Will Somers, jester to Henry VIII. Will broke bad news to the infamously bad tempered monarch and got away with things that would have sent others to the block. Will survived most of Henry's reign, his head intact. Jesters would be apart of the main household though each royal might have one of their own.

Positions within the Royal Household ~ Noble

Nobility were always welcomed at court. They eat at court, slept at court and were cared for by the monarch. Some nobles had to sing for their supper and most were hired as royal servants. They weren't exactly scrubbing floors and would be paid handsomely with land that would generate wealth for them

The Steward/Seneschal: This person was the head of the royal's staff. They would have the task of running the lands and servants their master or mistress. The steward served as a backup and assistant in all the tasks even representing their master or mistress when they were unavailable. Would be a high ranking noble. Each royal household would have them.

Treasurer of the Household: The treasurer was the accountant and pay master. They would be in charge of ensuring debts were settled, wages were paid and the household was running within the budget. This was a coveted position because it gave the treasurer insight into the financial situations of the royals. Such info was wroth its weight in gold. Each royal would have one.

Usher: The Gentleman Usher would be in charge of escorting guests into the royal chambers and into the royal presence. They would act as a go between their royal master/mistress and the guest often going back and forth with messages. It was just as coveted as the position of chamberlain but with less responsibilities.

Master of Horse: The Master of Horse was in charge of seeing to the horses of their master. They would oversee the grooms or the stableboy/hands who were employed at the stables to actually care for the horses. The master of horse would ensure that the stables were in order and the horses were up to parr in order to bear royalty across the kingdom. Each royal would have one but there would a main one who acted as overseer.

Master of the Wardrobe/Mistress of the Robes: These are the nobility who are employed to look after the clothes of the royal they serve. This would mainly involve a managerial position, overseeing the inventory of the royal wardrobe (a warehouse like building that housed the clothing) and placing orders for new clothes. It was a tidy job that rarely involved getting the hands dirty. Each royal would have one.

Chamberlain/Valet: The chamberlain is employed to look after the Lord's bedchamber. This was the most sought out position as they effectively were the gateway into the royal presence. Their main task was making sure their boss was comfortable and happy. Could be a well born commoner or a noble. Each royal would have one.

The Page: All royal households had pages. They would be a young noble boy about seven years old sent to their royal master. He would be in charge of tidying up after the lord, carrying messages to other servants and occupants of the castle and serving him at meals. Unlike others on the list, the page would not be paid. His experience was his payment as he would learn the running of a court and how to be courtier. Each royal would have one.

Squires: Squires were like pages though they only served the men. They would accompany their royal master to battle, look after his armour and mail, ensure that his lord's horse was saddled, caring for their master's weapons. The squire would always be a young nobleman on the cusp of becoming a knight.

Governess: The governess is a noblewoman woman employed to oversee the Monarch's children's household. She would be the first teacher a royal child would have and would oversee the nursemaids who would have care of the physical person of the child. She would be appointed when the child was four or five. Notable governesses include Katherine Swynford (wife of John of Gaunt and mother to the Beaufort line), Margaret Pole (wife of Tudor Loyal Sir Richard Pole, sister of the last York heir Edward of Warwick, daughter of George Duke of Clarence and niece to King Edward VI and Richard III), Kat Ashley, Margaret Bryan, Madame de Maintenon and Baroness Lehzen. Most unmarried Princesses retained their governesses while Princes generally outgrew their governesses after they were breeched.

Gentlemen of the Privy Chamber: They were the male companions of a King or Prince, sort of like ladies in waiting but manly. They would accompany the King or Prince everywhere they would go and shared duties with Groom of the Stool (royal toilet paper dispenser) and the Chief Gentleman of the Chamber (overseeing the staff and maintaining the chamber). They would help their master get ready, serve him at the table and organize hunting and games to keep him entertained. Gentlemen and companions where often chosen for their connections as well as their master's own opinion. Henry VIII's gentlemen included: Sir William Compton (ward of Henry VII and heir to rich lands), Sir Henry Norris (the grandson of William Norris who fought with Henry's father at Stroke and a relation to the Yorkists Lovells), Sir Anthony Denny (son of Sir Edmund Denny Baron of the Exchequer) Sir Michael Stanhope (brother in law to Edward Seymour, Duke of Somerset), Charles Brandon (ward of Henry VII and son of Tudor Loyalists)

Ladies in Waiting and Maids in Waiting or Maids of Honour: These are the female attendants to the Queen or Princess. Ladies in Waiting were married while the Maids were unmarried. They would have to attend their mistress wherever she went, help her get ready, keep her chambers in order, write letters for the Queen and maintaining her honour. They were chosen for their connections. Using Katherine of Aragon as an example, her Ladies in Waiting included: Maria de Salinas (daughter of Juan Sancriz de Salinas secretary to Isabella, Princess of Portugal and a Spanish courtier in the service to Katherine's parents, wife of Baron Willoughby de Ersby), Elizabeth Howard (the daughter of Thomas Howard, 2nd Duke of Norfolk, sister to Thomas Howard, 3rd Duke of Norfolk and wife to Thomas Boleyn, ambassador to France), Anne Hastings (daughter of William Hastings, 1st Baron Hastings, wife to George Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury and Lord Steward.), Agnes Tilney (wife to Thomas Howard, Earl of and 2nd Duke of Norfolk.), Elizabeth Scrope (wife of John de Vere, Earl of Oxford, a loyal Tudor lord), Margaret Scrope (wife of Sir Edmund de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk cousin to the King), Anne Stafford (sister of the Duke of Buckingham, married Sir George Hastings, Earl of Huntington and daughter of Henry Stafford, 2nd Duke of Buckingham (cousin to the King) and Lady Katherine Woodville (sister of King Henry VIII's grandmother and his great aunt by her marriage), Elizabeth Stafford (sister to Anne Stafford wife Robert Radcliffe, Lord Fitzwalter and Earl of Sussex around). Their connections are what got them their places and you can see why they were chosen.

Accommodation

Accommodation can be a difficult thing to sort both as a writer and a steward. You might have a palace of 200+ bedchambers in which you must house a staff of 500-/+, a varying amount of nobles, the royal family (of a varying amount) and their own households. When assigning rooms it is best to think of a Russian nesting doll. Start from the inside and work your way to the outside.

The best rooms go to the monarch, their consort and their children/siblings/parent(s). These chambers would include the bedroom, a drawing room/ common area, a privy, a closet (a small chamber that can be used for prayer or work). They would be furnished with the best cloth, the best candles and whatever furniture brought by the resident since most royal courts travelled from palace to palace. They will also have chambers for their personal servants such as ladies in waiting and grooms.

The second best set of rooms would go to the highest ranking nobles/people in the court. These rooms would be less fancy and a little smaller. These would be given to from titled nobility descending from those of Ducal rank (Dukes/Duchesses) or even members of the council such as Thomas Cromwell in Tudor times.

The next set would be considerably smaller, perhaps minus a closet or a drawing room. Given to lower nobility.

The next level of chambers would be smaller perhaps only the bedroom and a common area given to minor nobles.

The last set of rooms would be small and only hold enough room for a bedroom. Servants would have to sleep on the ground on pallets beside their masters.

Any other guests at court would have to stay at off-site locations around the palace in the city. Some nobles at houses around major palaces just in case they arrived late or were kicked out of court.

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apinchofm · 2 years

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At Court

Requested by @adelainaasher: The Clermont sisters plus Baldwin's daughter (I do not remember her name, it's very vague in my mind and I'd rather not misspell it) at the English Court during the Wars of the Roses (most specifically when Edward married Elizabeth Woodville). Just imagine Verin gossiping with Isabel Neville and Stasia taunting Anne Neville over her crush on Richard, also Freyja being the only one who actually tries to get the Queen's favour as their father requested.

I love the White Queen (even if I despise PG's books!) so this was so much fun to write!

Freyja curtsied toward Edward IV's new Queen. Elizabeth Woodville. She noticed the King's wandering eye but knew he loved his new queen and wife.

"It is an honour to meet you, your Grace," Freyja smiled.

"As it is to meet you, Lady Madeleine. I am glad that we could be diplomatic with the French upon this occasion." Elizabeth said.

"Do ask your brother to come to speak with me?" Edward asked.

"Of course." Freyja agreed, "He is somewhere with my sisters, I believe."

"Your sisters?" Elizabeth inquired with a small smile.

"They are..." She looked around and saw them with the Neville's and the other two sons of York. Great. She repressed a sigh and turned back to the Queen.

"Enjoying the festivities?" Elizabeth asked, knowing how siblings could be.

"Absolutely, your highness."

"She's a commoner." Verin sneered quietly into her wine. Isabel Neville smiled in agreement, having wanted to marry Edward. Verin had never been one for social mobility.

"Now, Verin, do not be a snob." Stasia chastised playfully, "She looks beautiful, does she not?" The new Queen's gold gown was stunning. Stasia had a mind to commission a few dresses from the new dressmaker for herself.

Verin's ears pricked up on hearing the conversation between the Kingmaker's wife and daughters. A plot to marry the other two to the younger sons of the House of York.

"Is that so?" Verin interrupted. The Nevilles were ambitious and liked power and control. The three looked at her.

"It would be a good alliance." The countess defended.

"I would get Richard!" Anne said enthusiastically.

"Richard?" Stasia asked and Anne looked at her, "He's so serious all the time! But I suppose marriage would get that out of him."

"I only meant-" Anne stuttered, embarrassed and blushed profusely.

Isabel laughed a little bit seeing her sister, "Look at how she blushes!"

"Anastasia." Baldwin approached his sister, holding out his arm and leading her away, "You are not to go near any of the York brothers."

"Brother, I was teasing. But I may have some fun with George," Stasia smirked, looking in that brother's direction, "No matter how treacherous he may be. When do you believe the Kingmaker will strike? I detest the English and their lack of bathing habits. "

"Soon." Baldwin hummed to himself, eyeing Warwick, "Their first child at least. Especially if it's a boy."

"Are they not scared of the women? The She-Wolf is still plotting her vengeance." Stasia pointed out. Margaret of Anjou was one of the most spirited young girls she had met. She was born to be a King, not Queen.

Baldwin gave his sister a small smile, "They should be. Now go and greet the Queen and tell Verin not to fuck the King."

"I will try." Stasia said, "But if you would like the House of York to fall-"

"It needs to be bloody, like all battles, my dear." Baldwin interrupted, "That is the nature of things. Do not insert yourself between the King and Queen."

"My, brother, have you become a romantic?" Stasia teased.

"A realist." Baldwin huffed, "We are here to ensure the safety of the realm. Try not to stab Warwick either."

Stasia pouted, "You have become boring, brother."

#all souls trilogy #the white queen #verin de clermont #freyja de clermont #stasia de clermont #anne neville #isabel neville #elizabeth woodville #the house Plantagenet

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lin-nin · 3 years

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Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 10

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader

Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?

Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer: Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

Chapter 10: Wedding Plans

< | Previous Chapter

Your first night at the new kingdom was rough. You laid in your bed for hours, your blanket pulled to your chin. You wanted nothing more to sleep- it sounded like a blessing at the moment. It didn’t come easy, and you eventually moved to look out the window instead. The blanket hung around your shoulders as you did, a quiet sigh spilling from your lips. The view outside felt completely different at night, the soft glow of the moon spilling over the land. In the surrounding city you could make out the warm glow from the lamps. It was surreal, feeling so much more different than your home.

You pondered about what your life here would entail. Techno hadn’t really said too much. You figured you would be told as the days went on what to expect. You figured most of your time as of current would be dedicated to preparation for the wedding. Maybe even some training, if Techno found time to do so. You didn’t know what his duties would entail, and how similar they would be to George’s. You’d adjust inevitably. Exhaustion was weighing heavy on you, your gaze once more shifting to the bed longingly. You weren’t entirely sure if you would be able to fall asleep just yet. You pondered going to the library, but decided against it. That was on the other side of the castle. You didn’t have the confidence to go alone at night, either. Beyond Techno and his brothers, you didn’t know who to trust.

So, with a defeated sigh, you trudged back to the bed and wrapped the blanket tight around you. Might as well try to sleep. Absorbing yourself into your thoughts would only lead to exhaustion tomorrow. Which wasn’t what you really wanted. You knew tomorrow would inevitably be busy. The wedding had been mentioned multiple times, you knew there needed to be planning for that.

It felt like you had only blinked, head full of thoughts of the wedding, when you were cracking your eyes open. Light spilled into the room through the window you had gazed out of earlier, making you sigh. Breakfast. The thought made your stomach turn a little. This would be your first proper introduction to the court. Sure you knew plenty of people, but you had managed to evade dinner last night due to the tour. You couldn’t as easily escape the obligation of breakfast. If you did, your body would make you pay dearly later. Besides, you couldn’t avoid it forever.

You peeled yourself out of bed, wandering towards the closet. You wanted to make a good impression on everyone, without being so horribly overstated. You freted, before settling on one of your simpler dresses. You set it aside, thumbing through your jewelry for something to wear. You briefly ran your thumb over the necklace Dream had given you, marveling it. It was almost tempting to wear it, to have that comfort and security you had always felt with the blonde. Yet you decided against it, choosing something less understated that your mother had given you on one of your birthdays.

Once satisfied with the choice in clothes, you stole away to the bathroom. It had been a couple of days since you last bathed, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt. You did skeptically eye the full bath, trying to guess when servants had slipped into your room to fill it. No matter. Steam rolled along the surface of it, and you couldn’t help but sigh as you slid into it. It worked rather quickly to relax your muscles and nerves. You definitely needed that. You eyed the small shelf by the tub, picking up a few of the bottles to smell them.

One smelled of vanilla, which you deeply considered. The other you smelled carried the scent of rose and lemon, a scent you easily recognized. It was hardly different from the one you used at home, which you had forgotten to bring. The only thing that seemed to be missing was the base note of patchouli, and you did miss the earthiness just a touch. All the same, you were content that this was here, wherever it came from. You quickly used the bottle to help freshen yourself up. A quick run over with a damp cloth ensured you were rid of any dirt. As the water began to cool, you finally pulled yourself up and out of the tub to dress.

You lingered in the room, fingers running over your dress a few times. Nervously. You really didn’t want to walk into the dining hall alone. As if to answer your silent pleas, there was a knock on your door that you quickly answered. Techno stood on the other end, peering down at you through his glasses. You offered a soft smile, trying to hide your nerves.

“I figured I should walk with you to breakfast. Since we missed dinner and all,” He explained, but you only nodded. You stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind you as you did so.

“Right, sorry about that, still. I appreciate you walking with me.” Your hands once more smoothed down over your dress, almost fussing on if your appearance was perfect. Who all would be there? Perhaps just a few other nobles, maybe the King’s advisors. It shouldn’t be too big, should it?

“Making things seem distant between us would only give people reason to dislike you.” The words only served to make you shudder, a frown on your face. You easily recalled Philza’s words of the advisor, the thought causing your stomach to turn. This was going to be a rough breakfast, you already knew.

“Right. Some people aren’t exactly excited about this. That’s fine. I’m prepared for that,” You muttered in an attempt to reassure yourself. Techno reached up, giving a reassuring pat against your back.

“They’re harmless. It doesn’t matter what they think,” Techno muttered as the pair of you descended the stairs. You sighed but nodded. He was right, honestly. It wasn’t like the king hated you, and the rest of the royal family seemed to at least not hate you. So long as they didn’t hate you, you hoped you could stomach the rest. From down the hall you could already hear Tommy making a fuss, causing you to smile. That helped ease your nerves. It was a different environment than you were used to.

You glanced at the table as you walked in, relieved by the familiar faces around the table. Techno moved towards his father, pausing to pull out one of the empty chairs and motioning you into it. Your eyes scanned the few unfamiliar faces as you sat down, trying to ease your anxiety.

“Mornin’ Techno! Mornin’ Techno’s wife!” Tommy called as Techno sat between you and his father, causing the pink-headed prince to glance at his brother.

“She’s not my wife yet, Tommy,” he simply clarified, sounding far from amused.

“How’d you sleep, kiddo?” Philza detracted the attention from his rambunctious nephew, offering you a smile. You relaxed a little, appreciating the older man’s words.

“I slept alright,” You murmured, offering a feeble smile. You hadn’t slept great, or all that much, and you had a feeling it showed on your face.

“It’s a new place, that’s always rough. I’m sure it’ll get better soon.” You could only nod at his words, thankful for the reassurance. He was nice, and truthfully you enjoyed that about him. He felt very much fatherly. Techno slid a cup in front of you, steam billowing from it. You smiled thankfully, offering a quiet thank you as you picked it up. Tea was definitely acceptable this early in the morning, especially as a slight chill clung to the castle.

The man sat beside Philza cleared his throat, offering a gentle smile. Your attention quickly turned to him, brow furrowing a little. He wasn’t someone you recognized- definitely didn’t meet him yesterday. “A pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Eret- cousin to those three.” He motioned to the prince’s as he talked, and you nodded slightly.

“Nice to meet you. Techno never mentioned having a cousin.” You set down the cup in your hands, glancing at Techno briefly. He furrowed his brow, a soft ‘heh?’ leaving him.

“He likes to forget about him.” Wilbur spoke up, causing Tommy to laugh. You sighed, shaking your head with a small laugh.

“I don’t know how! Eret’s been here since he was little,” Tommy spoke between laughter, making your gaze turn back to the brunette across from you. He seemed almost embarrassed, shrugging.

“I’m sure Techno had a lot on his mind whenever he spoke of the kingdom, there’s a lot of people to remember here.” Eret didn’t seem too bothered by the lapse of information, and you shrugged.

“He mentioned Tubbo, though. Is he forgetful enough to mention a family friend as opposed to his actual family?” You teased, throwing a sly grin at Techno. It was easy to slip into this with the egging on of his brothers.

“Oh- Did he really? I mean, I practically did grow up with Tommy,” Tubbo asked, head popping up.

“You’re like a little brother to us, Tubbo. You were always there, Eret didn’t come to the kingdom until Techno was almost seven, remember?” Wilbur pushed, and the brunette seemed to purse his lips in thought.

“Not well, no. We love Eret anyways!” The man between Eret and Tubbo scoffed, a hand holding his head. Tired brown eyes stared at his plate, a glass bottle in hand. He looked rough, stubble lining his jaw and brown locks falling into his eyes. You eyed the brown liquid within the bottle as silence fell over the table.

“That’s Schlatt, the advisor Philza spoke of yesterday,” Techno’s voice came quietly against your ear, making you jump in surprise. When the hell had he gotten there? Your attention quickly turned back to the man as he took a drink from the bottle. Was that alcohol?

Physically, you could see the similarities between him and Tubbo, but that was about it. Even now, the younger brunette seemed largely uncomfortable next to him. It made your chest pang, wondering what all had happened to cause the rift in their relationship.

Schlatt stood up with a grunt, sloppily pushing in his chair. “Come on, Tubbo. We’ve got work to do,” Schlatt called. There was a drawl in his voice that made you rather uncomfortable. You didn’t like him, and you had a feeling it was similar to the way the princes felt towards him.

Tubbo looked down to his plate, seemingly steeling himself. “Yes, Schlatt,” he muttered softly. What had Schlatt done that had made the brunette become so quiet? You didn’t like it one bit. Before Tubbo could even move to follow his father, you spoke out.

“Actually, I was hoping I could borrow Tubbo for today!” Tubbo’s head snapped up at that, eyes wide. You blinked, not even sure what you were saying. Schlatt stopped his walk, bottle hanging from his hand as he turned to look at you. Perhaps glare was a better word? You swallowed, steeling yourself as you continued, “I’d really appreciate his input on the wedding plans.”

“The wedding,” Schlatt sneered, eyes narrowed. His gaze moved from you, to Techno, then to his son. “Whatever, take the bastard for the ridiculous wedding. Like I give a damn.” With his words, he took a swig from the bottle before sauntering out of the dining hall. With his leave, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate.

A relieved sigh escaped Tubbo’s lips as he slumped in his seat, closing his eyes. “Thank you so much,” He mumbled into his hands. You sighed, shaking your head a little. Not exactly what you had expected, but you’d take it.

“I hate that he keeps calling you that,” Tommy grumbled, while Wilbur just patted his shoulder.

“It gets him away from Schlatt for today, so what’s it matter?” Wilbur offered with a shrug. Tommy just continued to grumble under his breath while Tubbo offered a weak smile.

“You don’t actually have to help with the wedding. I just didn’t feel right leaving you to go with him.” You brushed it off with a smile. It was true, though. You truly didn’t want to send Tubbo off with Schlatt. The man gave off a bad vibe you didn’t like in the slightest. So, coming up with an excuse seemed the most feasible. The king sighed and shook his head, otherwise staying quiet. You had a feeling this wasn’t too different from a normal morning.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind helping! If everyone doesn’t mind,” Tubbo sheepishly chimed, moving to rub the nape of his neck. Tommy groaned dramatically, slouching in his chair.

“Tubbo, come on. You’re gonna make us do stupid wedding planning all day? With Eret and Wilbur and Techno? At one time?” You snickered a little as he complained, head shaking. Wilbur smacked him in the back of his head in response to his dramatics.

“Your opinion doesn’t count, Tommy.” His voice was so plain, even as the young blonde whined and rubbed the back of his head.

“I’ll show you what does count! I swear, I’ll beat you so hard you won’t be able to remember your own name!” He shoved at his brother, and you shook your head.

“I don’t mind if you tag along, Tubbo. I’m sure the input will be appreciated,” You spoke over the ruckus of Wilbur and Tommy as the two pushed at each other. The words seemed to make Tubbo glow with excitement, almost as if the whole thing with Schlatt hadn’t ever happened.

“Alright, boys, go outside before you break a plate or the table. Go on, do your fighting there.” Philza spoke from behind them, and your head popped up. He must have moved while you were focused on Tubbo. Tommy was stuck beneath Wilbur’s arm, the older yanking him around. Philza unceremoniously pulled out the chairs they sat on, forcing them apart as he shooed them away. He looked exasperated, but fond of their antics all the same.

“I’ll judge!” Tubbo called, standing up hurriedly. He gave a brief, sloppy bow towards the king before running after the two princes.

“Is it like this every morning?” You sat down your utensils, reclining in your seat.

“Not every morning, but a lot of them. It wasn’t always this way,” Eret shook his head but smiled. You turned to Techno, where he stared towards the door with an affectionate look in his eyes. It was almost sweet, seeing the way he gazed after the rambunctious trio.

“It only started to get like that a few years ago. Not quite becoming of princes, but they don’t seem in a rush to behave like royalty.” Techno’s voice had the same fondness his gaze did, and you hummed in acknowledgement as you sipped the last of your tea, cradling the cup close.

“Not anymore, at least. We should go and start doing some planning ourselves,” Philza muttered, turning towards the king. The man nodded, slowly rising from his seat.

“Please see to it your brothers don’t destroy anything this time, Technoblade.” He gave him a pointed look, making him sigh and nod. The king walked away, Philza tailing behind him. Leaving you, Techno, and Eret sitting.

“Well, let’s get started? There’s no telling how long it’ll take. Especially since Wilbur is currently in the process of fighting Tommy.” Eret shook his head as he spoke. You nodded, moving to stand. A hand entered your vision before you could even get to your feet. You shook your head, unable to help a laugh.

“Should I get used to you not letting me get out of my seat on my own?” You managed a lighthearted jab at him as you took his hand, allowing him to gently pull you up.

“Yes.” The way he said it was so flat and monotone, you couldn’t stop the laugh bursting from your lips. You just shook your head, giving a lopsided grin.

“Thank you, Techno. Wanting to teach me to fight but not letting me get out of a chair without hovering.” His lips pursed at that, eyebrows furrowing. Like he saw nothing wrong with it. Not that there truly was, it just seemed almost contradictory. Eret even seemed equally amused, though he didn’t poke at his cousin the way you did.

“I’ll go ahead and get the boys before they destroy each other. I’ll meet you in the ballroom with them.” Techno gently pushed you towards his cousin, before striding off in front of you. You shrugged, walking alongside Eret towards the ballroom.

“It’s gonna be an interesting day, isn’t it?” You questioned, glancing up at Eret. Of course he was tall. It really did run in the family.

“Most likely, yes. They’re never quiet, and Tommy gets antsy quick,” Eret said with a laugh, making you smile. You didn’t think you would mind too much if it made it lively. It would take care of the uneasiness you felt regarding the wedding. A relief to the tension you had a feeling might form if it were just you and Techno.

“You didn’t always live here at the castle?” You broached the silence that had spread over the pair of you, and he hummed a little.

“No. I came around the time I was eight. Their mother was my aunt, and some things happened with my parents. Philza ended up adopting me, so I’m just a cousin on their other side now,” He chuckled, and you nodded. That made some sense. It just seemed the castle was hardly lacking in boys to run the place.

“I see. I imagine that keeps it rather busy here.” You shook your head, following as Eret opened the door to the ballroom.

“Very. Right! This is where the majority of the wedding will be held. The celebrations, namely. The formal ceremony will be held in the gardens, we’ll go through those in a little bit.” Eret clapped his hands together, leading you through the ballroom. He pointed to various spots, explaining the plans he had for the celebrations. You would nod along, pitching in your own opinions when you felt it necessary.

“I think you should go to the brothel and get some women,” A new voice chimed in from near the veranda, making you jump.

“I like the way you think, Big Q! It’s not a party without some women!” Tommy responded, and you turned towards the voices. You blinked at the new person standing among the princes, a lopsided grin on his face. His black hair was splayed messily on his head, smudges of dirt along his face. You had a feeling he had been messing with the other, who also had dirt on their faces and bodies. What a mess. Tubbo and Tommy even seemed to have a few forming bruises on their arms, Tommy’s hidden by the same green bandana he had worn in the portrait you saw in the dining hall.

“I don’t think the princess is fond of the idea of there being whores at her wedding, Quackity,” Wilbur piped up upon seeing your rather deadpan face. The expression was similarly mimicked by Techno, who stood behind the four of them.

“Princess? Oh- shit!” Quackity did a double take, before giving a hurried bow. Seemingly remembering exactly who he was talking to. Amusement at the almost embarrassed look on his face caused your lips to twitch up into a smile.

“Right. Yes. I would prefer there to not be women from the brothel at my wedding, Quackity.” You tested his name out carefully, and he slowly stood up from his bow. Tommy snickered from behind him, failing to hide his amusement at the fool he seemingly made for himself. He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing softly.

“I would also prefer to keep it that way,” Techno said as he stepped around the group, back towards you. He stood on your other side, leaving you in the middle of the two men. Which made you feel incredibly small.

“You two are so boring, what’s the fun without women?” Tommy groaned, trailing behind Wilbur and Tubbo as they wandered over as well.

“You’ll have fun anyways, Tommy. You always manage.” Tubbo barely looked at his friend, eagerly listening to Eret as he went over what he had been telling you once more. The group gathered around you, but you hardly minded right now.

“I was thinking, Tubbo and I could do some of the music. We’ll have other musicians too, but I think it’d be nice to be able to play. It’s not every day your little brother gets married,” Wilbur talked, grinning over to Techno. Techno huffed, head shaking as the older affectionately threw out the term.

“Oh, that’d be wonderful!” You lit up with a smile, fully on board with the idea. Wilbur smiled back, seemingly fond of your approval.

“And,” he started, his grin turning almost mischievous, “I think it would be even better if our groom here plays a piece himself. You do play violin after all, Techno.” The words made your hopeful gaze turn towards Techno. He looked almost neutral, though his eyebrows were furrowed and a faint flush painted his cheeks.

“Well, I-” He grumbled, looking down to you and your soft smile. He gave an almost frustrated sigh, looking away. “Fine. I’ll play something.” He huffed a little.

“Perfect! So we’ve got rough plans for the ballroom decorations and the music.” You clapped your hands together, grinning.

“What the hell, Techno? You never play for anyone!” Tommy whined, eyes wide as he looked between you and him.

“It is his wedding, Tommy. It’s only fitting he plays,” Tubbo defended. Tommy, Tubbo, and Quackity bickered about Techno’s playing as Eret led that large group towards the veranda. Techno held your hand as you went down the stairs. Tommy made a mocking gag sound, and Quackity simply imitated Techno, holding his hand out for Tommy.

“Quackity, stop it, I’m not holding your hand,” Tommy complained, nose wrinkling. You shook your head, eyes rolling. They really were like children.

You peered at the flowers as you walked to the gardens, looking for any you recognized. Eret spoke about the plans, and you absently nodded along. At least until he showed you where the ceremony would be held. “Here?” You murmured curiously, looking at the flowers. Your fingers ran over the petals, trying to note the flowers you did see. The easiest to identify was the roses- why was it always roses? Red bled into the white from the edges, and you smiled just slightly. They were pretty, most of the ones back home were either red, white, or yellow. Rarely hybrids. The only time you received a hybrid of one was from dream, but they were never red and white. Always red and yellow.

Curled near the roses stood a plant with broad green leaves and occasional clumps of pink flowers. It was faintly familiar, and you struggled to place it. You remembered Dream stating that they weren’t the best flower, trying his best to remove it from the gardens. You had no idea why, though, as it seemed to be doing just fine here. A hand grabbed yours as you went to run your fingers along the leaves, tugging it away.

“Careful,” Techno mumbled. He dropped your hand, lifting the leaves carefully. Behind them was a thick branch, coated in thorns. You had barely noticed them, stretching out about an inch. You had been so focused on the flowers.

“Thank you,” you murmured, turning back towards Eret with a soft smile. “This’ll do wonderful. What’s next?”

“That’s most of the basic stuff for decoration at the moment. I think Nihachu wanted to discuss catering? I have to get some stuff together for your dress, but I can come find you when I have,” Eret explained. You nodded, seemingly content with the idea.

“Do we have to come along?” Tommy groaned loudly, clearly growing bored with all of the proceedings. You laughed, head shaking.

“You never had to, Tommy. I think the only people obligated are Techno and I.” You shrugged, letting the group move back towards the castle.

“Come on then, Tubbo. Let’s get out of here, this is so damn boring.” The brunette looked towards you as if for confirmation, and you simply waved your hand. You didn’t expect them to truly tag along for too long. Especially Tommy, he didn’t seem the patient type to deal with planning.

“I’ll come check in later!” Tubbo tried to offer as Tommy, and Quackity, practically dragged him off. For what, you had no idea, but you didn’t want to ask questions. This thinned out the large group, allowing you to let out a soft breath. It was less crowded, which you definitely appreciated.

“Nihachu said she’d be in the dining hall with some samples of food for you to try,” Wilbur spoke, pausing at the top of the veranda. He watched Techno help you up, Eret slipping away from the three of you to go do what he needed.

“Sounds good with me,” You hummed. This might be one of the longer parts of the day, but you didn’t mind. Food was important, especially for a wedding. Even if it was stunning with beautiful music, you knew it would feel empty without proper food. As most celebrations would. Inside the dining hall was the same woman Wilbur was with the day prior, fussing over various plates on the table.

“Nihachu!” Wilbur called, causing the blonde to look up. She grinned up at him, practically bounding over to him to give him a hug.

“Staying to taste the food?” She asked, focusing on him for a few moments.

“I’d never miss an excuse to eat it outside of meals.” He ruffled her hair, making her wrinkle her nose. She turned towards you and Techno, grin softening to a smile as she curtseyed slightly.

“I’m Nihachu, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” She greeted warmly. You couldn’t help but return the smile, almost relieved to see another woman among the boys you seemed constantly surrounded by.

“You too. It’s a blessing to have someone who isn’t a prince to deal with.”

“Hey!” Wilbur gasped in offense, echoed by Techno’s quiet ‘Heh?’ of confusion. Nihachu only laughed, covering her mouth with a hand.

“Come on, there’s lots to try and discuss. Everything can be mixed and matched, as well. We have plenty of time between now and the wedding to refine everything.” She motioned the three of you towards the table, pointing to various dishes and explaining them to you. Some of them were unbelievably good, and you made sure to point that out. She seemed pleased with the praise each time, making note to include whatever you praised into the catering.

As she pointed to one of the dishes, you noted the ring on her finger, piquing your interest. “Are you married?” You asked without much thought, motioning to the simple band. Nihachu glanced to the ring, cheeks reddening slightly.

“Oh-! No, not yet, at least. It’s a ring my girlfriend gave me to promise she only had good intentions,” She murmured in embarrassment. Wilbur laughed beside her, trying and failing to hide the fact. She pushed at him slightly, trying to bring the focus back to the food instead.

After a couple of hours of tasting and discussing, it was finally finished. She seemed content with the feedback, promising she would make sure everything was perfect. She actually seemed quite ecstatic to have the job she did. She simply took the paper she made her notes on, running off towards the kitchens once more.

“Right, all that’s left is the dress. Eret is setting up in one of the spare rooms,” Wilbur informed, motioning towards the exit. “I’m going to help Nihachu clear this.” You looked on in amusement as Wilbur began picking up plates, finding it hilarious that a prince was taking care of dirty dishes. All the same, you didn’t say anything and left the room with Techno. He was quiet as he led you towards the spare rooms, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you need me to help with the dress?” He murmured, not exactly looking at you as he hovered outside the door. You blinked a little, processing the information. He didn’t want to help? Then you realized you were probably getting measurements taken, and who knew what else. Was he too embarrassed to help?

“I should be fine. Why don’t you go talk to your father about getting Tubbo a room here? Get him away from Schlatt,” you offered an alternative with a smile. A look of relief flooded his eyes, and he nodded.

“I’ll come get you in a while,” He informed, watching as you slid into the room. Eret smiled at you from where he was hovering over various fabrics, motioning you towards the middle of the room.

“I see everyone decided to abandon you,” he joked, picking up a strip of paper and walking towards you. All too familiar with the process that was about to happen, you lifted your arms. Eret took the paper, placing it against your arm and marking it.

“Wilbur decided to stick with Nihachu, and Techno really was trying to find a reason to not come in here,” You laughed, watching as Eret moved around, taking various measurements and marking them onto the strip he was using.

“That sounds like him. You send him off?” He leaned down, wrapping the strip around your waist snuggly.

“Told him to talk to his father about getting Tubbo one of the spare rooms in the castle, the boys mentioned it yesterday and I see why.”

“Schlatt is questionable at best. It would do Tubbo good to get away from him. I need to measure your legs,” He murmured, eyebrows furrowing. His cheeks painted pink, and he seemed to have only just realized what it entailed.

“It’s just measurements, Eret. It’s not scandalous,” you muttered reassuringly. You shifted the skirts of your dress as needed. Eret fell silent, seemingly embarrassed as he crouched in front of you to do the needed measurements on your legs. You tried your best to not laugh at how flustered he seemed, keeping any comments to yourself.

“Right, okay,” he cleared his throat, standing up and walking back towards the fabrics. You followed, peering over his shoulder. “Is this everything you were hoping for?”

“It’s… not, no. I never really planned to have a wedding with the prince of another kingdom, let alone one who was to become king. I thought I’d marry a noble in my own kingdom and live out my life there,” You explained. Eret picked up one of the white fabrics, holding it against your body and examining it. For what, exactly, you weren’t sure. Still, you let him do as he needed.

“That makes sense. Are you disappointed with this, though?” He seemed to want to talk, but you weren’t entirely against it. Not many people had cared to ask you how you felt about this whole thing.

“No, not at all. It presents options I was never granted back home.” Eret held up a delicate lace, layering it over a fabric to hold against you.

“Good. Hopefully everything turns out as you want it to. I think that should be all now? There’s not too much to be done until the dress is actually made,” He murmured, setting the fabrics down.

“Perfect, just call on me whenever you need me to check in or anything.” You beamed, only glancing at the fabrics as he continued to shift through them. You truly trusted him on whatever he was deciding to make. Everyone here seemed competent enough, though it made you feel a little useless. You supposed all you could do truly was offer feedback, which they seemed content with.

Techno was leaned against a wall outside the room, glancing up when you opened the door. You smiled at him, and he simply pushed off the wall, motioning towards where your rooms were. “Get changed, put on pants,” He said flatly, making you arch an eyebrow at him.

“What for, exactly?” You questioned, following him all the same.

“Unless you want to learn to fight in a dress.” He glanced at you, eyebrows raised in question. Your stomach flipped in excitement, and you desperately suppressed the urge to run to your room.

“I think pants would be better for that,” you laughed, nerves leaking through the sound. Finally, you were going to learn to fight. Next Chapter | >

#dream team #dream smp #technoblade #technoblade x reader #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #reader insert #kingdom au #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois family #t&t

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