#what was he supposed to do theon?? tell you you’re about to get to second base with your sister via a game of charades?

[squidprinceofwinterfell]

Underrated funny Theon moment is when he told his mute squire to “grow a tongue”

#what was he supposed to do theon?? tell you you’re about to get to second base with your sister via a game of charades? #theon greyjoy #wex pyke #got #asoiaf

[janiedean]

@seethemflying I think Sansa is in the next bracket down of important characters (with Jaime). In the outline, they weren't named as one of the big five, but in the process of writing have grown more important. No way is Sansa's ending going to be anything like Show Sansa's, though (and same with Jaime tbh).

agreed but lemme take a second from cramming to rant about this because I honestly have An Issue

in the sense: I 100% agree that both jaime and sansa are next bracket/secondary main (speaking as someone whose top five is made by ppl who are either secondary main or tertiary main if they have a pov like.... I'm not gonna argue that theon is a main fiver bc he's in my top three) but like what I can't deal with is the following as in that the main five are the main five bc they have in between them all the main themes george wants to tackle + the main plot stuff except for the 'romance is my #1 sense of existing in the plot', as in:

jon is azor ahai + has the chosen one deconstruction trope going on + most likely has the 'I never wanted to be Important™/have a throne but I'll have to for duty' ending + identity arc ie if he's not jon snow first of his name i'm eating my hat

dany has the dragons + the targ ancestry deal + 'I thought I wanted to rule but actually I don't I just want to help ppl' storyline (which is the hill i'm dying on)

bran has the oH WAIT fisher king deconstruction going on + the magic™ storyline + he's most likely kitn + he's tied to uh the literal rebirth of the continent so + how to deal with disability storyline

arya has the I NEED TO REALIZE WHO I AM storyline + the learning to be yourself as a gnc woman storyline + revenge is shit storyline + I'll become a skilled assassin and choose not to act on it unless absolutely necessary storyline + trauma/ptsd storyline tied to losing your own identity

tyrion has the shakesperean hero thing going on as in I have to make peace with the fact that I killed my father/did mistakes + overcoming the societal issues/problems/the prejudice most ppl have for him that’s caused by his disability storyline + he's the only one of these five who doesn't have any magical stuff in his background/only has his brain to rely on + overcoming his family's legacy and making it better storyline

now: a bunch of other minor/secondary characters have all of this (I mean idk theon and jaime have identity + learning to deal with/overcoming societal scorn given by them being disabled/having become disabled in various ways + ptsd, brienne has the gnc woman thing etc) but like each single one of these characters only lacks the OH I HAVE A BIGASS GREAT ROMANCE WITH MY BACKGROUND (I mean gendry exists to be arya's LI but idt it's gonna be important in her future storyline the way it'll be in brienne's to say one).. which oh wait SANSA JAIME AND BRIENNE HAVE, because guess what that's the next secondary bracket where those three characters have it as a main part of the story which is exempt from the politics angle (bc none of them is tied to the iron trap by the plot no none of them jaime doesn't want it, brienne isn't a contender and sansa was supposed to be queen in the beginning so she's obviously not going to be that later no not even qitn that's gonna be bran) and here falls the entire shebang because what half of this fandom doesn't seem to get is that *drumroll* george's favorite angle to tackle when it comes to romance is... THAT EXTERNAL BEAUTY IS NOT WHAT YOU SHOULD BE LOOKING AT IN PEOPLE AT THE END OF IT AND GUESS WHAT THAT'S THE MAIN POINT OF ALL OF THEM PLUS THE KNIGHTHOOD DECONSTRUCTION THING and with that I mean:

not counting that sansa's reaction to trauma is written to be specular and opposite to arya's as in arya tends to lose sight of herself/becomes someone else/resorts to violence to survive sansa never loses track of herself/her innate kindness which... is smth I wish dnd remembered, the thing is: sansa is presented in the beginning as 'i'm a twelve year old with all the issues with shallowness a 12yo brought up like me can have and everything I want from life is a good love story', which... guess what she's 100% going to get except

characters need to have an evolution, if sansa wants a handsome pretty guy who'll make her queen in the beginning and she has to realize joffrey was The Worst, do we really think her endgame is being queen of a handsome nice king when her entire schtick is liking songs about knights and wanting true love and someone gentle and brave blah blah? no, and that's exceedingly obvious when the text throws at you in the face that her only two actually viable choices for LI - sandor and tyrion - are.. guys who are either disfigured or disabled or traumatized or all three of them but are actually good people and she has to learn to see beyond looks, and no one else fits that bill period - sansa isn't getting with a pretty guy who'll make her queen, sansa will find love with a guy who's nowhere near pretty or handsome but will love her for who she is and that she will see the good behind the not-handsomeness dot and she'll prob go back north with him and be happy advising bran bc she learned stuff in court at most and I'm dying on that hill, bc again the entire point of her sl is having the nice good love story where she sees beyond external beauty which has been clear from page five of her first pov imvho

never mind that again she wants to be a queen in the beginning and then she realizes it's shit so why would she be one in the end? like not to be that asshole but george isn't exactly pro monarchy and it's obvious he's not going to paint it as an inherently positive thing

this attaches back to the fact that there's a whole knighthood deconstruction happening for which sansa has to realize that the gallant/true knights are not the ones who seem that/look like it/flaunt it around

which brings us to the fact that oh wait sandor and jaime in themselves are true knights in spite of the fact that sandor refuses to even consider himself one and jaime thinks he fucked it up and no one sees them as such

and that the truest knight in westeros who will get recognized as such is brienne

who doesn't look standard hot either

and has the love story with jaime right on page

and jaime also has the love story right on page where he has to realize he's into people that aren't c. especially brienne and so on which is what's happening right now like jb recognizing themselves as true knights™ is part of their whole thing like... it's... important

(this counting that san/san is beauty and the beast played straight with sansa as the beauty while jb is the same trope except reversed on itself five times because both j and b are both of them)

and this would also like make utter sense if oh, wait, jb weren't in the riverlands where sandor also is and if oh wait who has sworn a vow to find sansa like again I'm dying on the hill that brienne kills stoneheart, they go on the quiet isle to recover, sandor is like AH YOU'RE LOOKING FOR SANSA and sansa gets rescued in the vale by the only three true knights in these series including the one that's her actual love interest at least the way I see it and where do you think that's going to end yeah exactly

as in: she'll have the umpteenth proof that all the true knights in these books don't look like the songs and she'll get the one she wanted

(also brienne is way more like sansa than arya in personality so like... parallelism of two girls into romantic stuff getting with the guys they like? except that for b. it's relevant bc she's ugly and she gets with hot guy who's into her and for s. it's relevant bc she's hot and she goes with guy-everyone-considers-a-lost-cause showing that they're not exactly a lost cause)

like sansa is there to a) have half of the main love story plot b) as the resident song expert witness what knighthood actually means, jaime is the resident person doing things for love and finding ways to do it that aren't toxic/finds someone who'll actually love him and not what he represents, brienne is the resident 'I never thought anyone would be into me and I'm pursuing my dreams without a shred of hope they'll go well' and she gets all of that and sandor is there to be sansa's LI and to tell ppl that you can go to rehab and have a decent life even if you were used and abused to hell and back (jaime too tbh) and like none of that has to do with the iron trap, the magic, the zombies and whatnot but it's okay because it's their point in the plot and is2g I just wish people would take characters for what they represent instead of shoehorning them into others's themes/stories just because it's what they want for them, the end

(I could rant about the third bracket of characters ie theon & co & getting over trauma/ptsd without the Love Story™ but I have to get back to study if I wanna fill some prompts later so it's not gonna happen for now but... sorry for the rant I'm just really tired of the whole sansastark will get the iron trap and the north and be the ymbq and get with a guy that looks good for her depending on what we ship not considering the overall reaching plot or her book plot and everyone else will have zero relevance in the story because we said so especially when it means giving all of that to a character who is uh not belonging to any of the categories represented by the main five which are actually kiiindaaaa relevant rep but I'mma just gonna shut up here)

#janie rants #janie writes meta #i guess #anti show sansa #seethemflying #janie replies #jaime x brienne for ts #sansan for ts #long post for ts #janie speculates #right i'm back on studying penal law rip #my stuff

[littlerockerao3]

Ooh 73 for the drabble thing if you want :)

Of course! Here it is!

73. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Trigger warning: nudity, but I guess that was obvious.

~~~~

Robb hates Summer. He hates that he constantly has to take a shower only to still be sweating three seconds later. He hates how ice cream melts in a heartbeat and it all drips along the cone and straight in his hand. He hates how he has to sleep with the window open just to let some breeze in the room but then, in the morning, the sunshine so bright and hot either wakes him up too early or ends up burning some part of his body: it happened once that he fell asleep and this ray of sunshine burnt half of his arm.

Now, as if all of this wasn’t enough, it’s fucking July and no month is hotter than July. If it was up to Robb, he’d stay home with his face in front of the fan for hours and hours. But it just so happens that he has a boyfriend who claims to see him every once in a while, but since his boyfriend is a total dickhead who loves Summer more than anything else in the world (Robb is one hundred per cent sure that is solely because he can show off his biceps) and there’s no fucking fan at his place.

That had led Robb to the only solution to survive such hot weather: lowering the blinds, undressing and lying on the bed. It does work, for a little: the pillow is cool, but he’ll have to turn it on the other side in a few, cause he feels his hair is sweating so hard it’s basically wet. But for now, it’s a nice feeling: Theon’s place is comfortable in the first place. More quiet. Cooler, cause Theon’s the only one living in here, Robb’s home is so full of people stuck with each other he’s sure that’s the reason why it’s so warm. He wishes he could live at Theon’s place forever, which is something that could actually happen at some point, cause Theon is trying to send him signals about it for days. Robb’s not even sure if Theon himself is sure of it, he just wishes he could say it as it is: “move in with me”. It’s not like Robb would refuse.

“Babe, you in there?” He hears Theon’s voice coming from the other side of the door. He’s early, he said he had to go to the store and grab a few things and that it would have taken him only five minutes, which equals two twenty-five minutes when it’s about Theon.

The door opens, “Ro-is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Robb rolls his eyes, as he turns lightly to stare at his boyfriend’s amused face, “Now don’t act like you don’t like it”.

A smirk appears on Theon’s face, thick dark eyebrows raising. He makes his way to the bed, flip flops swatting against the floor, and lays down next to Robb, “Oh I do like it indeed”.

He swats a hand down on Robb’s ass, much like he was expecting, which is the only reason Robb doesn’t wince.

“Ouch” he still says, out of instinct. In response, Theon pats his bum one more time, gentler, then rests his hand on Robb’s lower back. “Oh we both now you can handle much more than that”.

It’s true, Robb can’t deny that, but he’s too tired to replay: warm weather makes his head hurt and Theon’s hand is so warm it makes him sweat even more. He realises he’d been keeping his eyes closed only when he opens them up the moment he feels Theon’s lips pressing a kiss to his neck.

“What is wrong, sexy?”

Robb sighs in return, “My brain, my whole body is boiling. It’s too hot” he whines.

“N’aaaw, my poor little abominable snowman doesn’t like Summer, does he?” Theon brushes his nose against Robb’s cheek, then proceeds to kiss his jaw.

“I freaking ha-what did you just call me?” Robb would like to ask Theon where he got the idea for that nickname, but it’s in that moment that Theon climbs on top of him, his skin touching Robb’s. Which translates into: more sweating.

“No don’t do that, it’s too hot for you to touch me” he cries, pushing Theon away. Though Theon is only wearing shorts and a white t-shirt Robb wonders how he doesn’t need to take a shower cause, for fuck’s sake, Robb just took a shower, he’s completely naked yet he does need another shower.

“Seriously, and then you make fun of me when it’s winter and I’m too cold” Theon huffs, feigning annoyance.

Robb bends his head a little to press a small weak kiss to his shoulder, “How do you handle summer without melting or frying?” He asks it as if he’s looking for the elixir of life.

Theon twists his finger along one of Robb’s auburn curls, “I swim a lot”, he says, “In fact, we should go swim, right now and cool off”.

“In your pool?” Robb doesn’t know why he’s asking, of course he meant his pool: that was like, number one reason why Theon bought this house in the first place, cause it had enough space for a pool.

“Yep” Theon says.

“But I’ll get sunburned” Robb whines, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and caressing his long fingers with his own.

“Not if you put on sunscreen”.

“But I don’t have it here with me, and you’re a dickhead who doesn’t get sunburned because your skin tone is fucking amazing and you actually can sunbathe” Robb’s aware he sounds like a kid, but he doesn’t mind: he’s allowed to, sometimes. And it’s true, Theon does have an amazing skin tone and he’s a dickhead for that.

“I actually do have some sunscreen here” that statement causes Robb to frown in both confusion and surprise: Theon despises sunscreen, and he’s gonna regret that in a few years, but every time they go to the beach (not many times but still) and Robb tells him to put on some at least on his face, the answer he usually gets is a simple “fuck off”. That is why it’s so weird for Robb to know Theon has let some sunscreen in his home.

“You do?” he asks.

Theon rolls his eyes, a small blush making its way through his bony cheeks, “Yeah, just for you babe”.

The smile grows on Robb’s face without him trying to control it, “How thoughtful of you”.

Theon takes that as the opportunity to hide his blush behind a charming smirk, “I know right? I think I deserve a kiss”.

“More than one” Robb leans over so that his lips can touch Theon’s. He feels hands caressing his hips and lower back, til they make their way down to his ass. This time, when Theon pinches it, Robb does wince. “Ow! Stop it!” He exclaims, swatting Theon’s hands away.

Theon’s smile is just a few inches away from Robb’s mouth.

“Never” he says, then pulls him in for another kiss.

It’s Theon who pulls away first, this time: he gets up from the bed and slips inside his flip flops to grab the bottle of sunscreen from his drawer. It’s still wrapped in plastic.

“You know, I think you should stay naked” he says to Robb.

“Don’t you start” the redhead says in return: he knows that will only lead to Theon’s grabby hands not trying at all to control themselves.

“It’s not like anyone is going to see us anyway” Theons says, as he gets undressed too, only to slip inside a pair of red swim trunks, “Come on.”

Robb doesn’t know why he agrees on swimming naked while Theon is not going to be naked. Probably because he already knows those red trunks aren’t going to stay on for too long anyway. Oh well. He’s lucky enough the bush all around the house is high and no one is going to see his naked body, unless they’ll look out the top floors’ windows.

Theon’s grabby hand don’t waste time and show Robb how grabby they are right away, by applying much more sunscreen than necessary on his glutes and lower belly. Robb actually has to ask Theon to focus a little more on his shoulders and back, cause he’s been outside under the sun for five minutes and they’re burning already.

“There you go, now there’s no way you’re going to get sunburned, this is the sunscreen that’s usually used on little kids” Theon rubs the sunscreen over Robb’s cheeks and nose at last.

Robb eyes him up and down: his golden anklet is basically shining thanks to the contrast with his bronze skin, his brown eyes looks so warm. He’s just too gorgeous.

“I hate you, you have such a beautiful skin tone” he huffs.

Theon extends a hands to gently stroke Robb’s collarbone, “Mhm-hmm, I don’t have these lovely freckles though. Come on, let’s go”.

He jumps in the pool with a loud splash, drops of water lading all over Robb’s naked body. He better get going as well.

“Oh god this feels good” he almost moans, as he gets into the cold water of the pool.

“Told ya” Theon’s all over him in a second, hands on his waist, pressing him against the edge.

“Shut up”

“Make me”

Robb gladly starts that little make out session that ends with him pushing Theon away before it can turn into more than just a make out session. And that’s how Robb keeps swimming around while Theon sits on the pink flamingo float, saying that he should probably go inside and make them some drinks to drink by the pool, but still refusing to make a move.

“God, I wish I had a pool at my place, I’d swim in there every day” Robb says at some point, cause man Theon was right, swimming really does help you when it’s too hot.

Theon shrugs in response, “It wouldn’t be as relaxing, with all your siblings playing around” he claims, as a matter of fact. As he should, since he’s right.

“Goddamn you’re right” Robb runs a hand through his face: he loves his little siblings, but he’s getting older and he needs his own privacy, right now more than ever. He needs his own place.

It takes Theon a few bites of the inside of his cheek before he manages to talk again, “You can come here anytime you want, you know. Even every day is fine.”

There, these are the kinds of “signals” Robb was talking about: Theon telling him he can come over everyday, Theon telling him he knows were to go if he doesn’t feel like staying at home with all that chaos for one night. He never says it explicitly though.

Today might be the day. If Robb pushes him enough.

“Oh yeah?” he says, feigning curiosity, “What about when you’re at work?”

Theon shrugs, “You do have a spare key”.

“That’s supposed to be for emergency only”.

Theon huffs, “You were literally lying half dead, ass in the air, in my bed because of the weather, that does look like an emergency”.

He’s not looking at him in the eyes, which always happens when he’s the one about to make an important decision or, in this case, offer, that involves both of them as a couple.

“And then... you know, it was good to come back home and find you there.” He’s blushing, “Even if I left for just five minutes, it’s... I like the thought of coming home and find you here. So, you can come here whenever you want”.

Robb finds himself smiling, as he approaches the big flamingo floats and crosses his arms on it.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

Theon’s blush deepens, and he tries to hide it by rolling his eyes, “Well, yes there is something but...”

He doesn’t go on. Robb taps his knee, comfortingly.

“I’m listening”

Theon takes a deep, long huff. Runs both his hand through his hair and face. “God, I can’t believe I’m about to do this”.

He’s chuckling nervously, that’s another thing he does when he’s about to take a huge step in his, or their, life.

“Take your time”, Robb squeezes his knee.

“If you already figured that out then you could just give me an answer already”, that makes him laugh, but Robb definitely does not give in so easily.

“I want to hear you say it”, he claims, smiling at him as he’s taking the umpteenth deep breath.

“Okay, damn.” Theon finally looks at him in the eye. And then he says it, “Robb, do you want to move in with me?”

“Yes!”

Robb practically jumps on him as he’s screaming his answer, the pink flamingo flips upside down and their both underwater, Robb’s arms and legs wrapped around Theon. They’re both laughing when they make their way to the surface, Theon actually looks so happy he could cry.

They stop laughing only cause they both decide they should use their mouths to do something else, cause their previous make out session was probably a little too short.

And suddenly, even the pool it’s too hot for Robb, and for Theon too, most likely. But Robb doesn’t care, soon the sun will go down and the air will be a little cooler. And no one’s going to see them as they get it on in the soon-to-be-theirs-and-not-only-just-Theon’s pool.

Maybe Summer is not so bad. 

#throbb #theon x robb #throbb fic #throbb one shot #I don’t remember how I tagged the previous one oh well #anon #hope you like it and thanks for the prompt!😘

[butterflies-dragons]

You’ll Be Queen One Day

This is something I wanted to say about the current debate of Queen Sansa.

For a big faction of the fandom, Queen Sansa is only D&D fan fiction and that won’t be Sansa’s endgame in the Books. ¡¡¡NEVER!!!    

According to Bryan Cogman, the man named by GRRM himself as the Keeper of the Lore, hints of Sansa’s Show endgame as Queen in the North were there since the Pilot Episode back in Season One:

BRYAN COGMAN: In the pilot, Sansa’s main function was informing members of her family and the audience that the only thing she wanted was to get out of Winterfell and go live in the big city and become queen—except a very different kind of queen than the one she ended up being. So Sansa’s storyline was always meant to have a note of triumph at the end, especially after all that she went through in the middle of the series. It was appropriate that she came full circle at the end. She was the only Stark left in Winterfell and leads the North into this new chapter. She’s the best hope for the North’s future.

—Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon: Game of Thrones and the Official Untold Story of the Epic Series by James Hibberd

"Winter Is Coming"

“In the pilot, Sansa’s main function was informing members of her family and the audience that the only thing she wanted was to get out of Winterfell and go live in the big city and become queen.”

Please take note that GRRM was very involved in the first four seasons of the Show. Especially the first one, he participated in the casting, he was part of the original pilot, he travelled to filming locations, he wrote one episode per season, etc.  

Season 1, Episode 1: "Winter Is Coming". Directed by Tim Van Patten & Written by David Benioff & D. B. Weiss.

SANSA: Do you think Joffrey will like me? What if he thinks I’m ugly? CATELYN: Then he is the stupidest prince that ever lived. SANSA: He’s so handsome. [CATELYN rolls her eyes.] SANSA: When would we be married? Soon or do we have to wait? CATELYN: Hush now. Your father hasn’t even said yes. SANSA: Why would he say no? He’d be the second most powerful man in the kingdoms. CATELYN: He’d have to leave home. He’d have to leave me. And so would you. SANSA: You left your home to come here. And I’d be queen someday. Please make father say yes. CATELYN: Sansa… SANSA: Please, please. It’s the only thing I ever wanted.

Watch the scene here.

Curiously enough, the immediately previous scene was a scene of Dany, the one where she said to Viserys: “I don’t want to be his [Khal Drogo] Queen. I want to go home.” A scene straight from the Books:

"I don't want to be his queen," she heard herself say in a small, thin voice. "Please, please, Viserys, I don't want to, I want to go home." 

—A Game of Thrones - Daenerys I

What a contrast with Sansa’s scene!

But Sansa’s scene is not from the Books. We don’t have any scene between Sansa and Catelyn at Winterfell.  

Sansa wanted romance more than being a monarch. She certainly was not opposed to marry a prince or a king, but her wishes were more about romance, being a Lady in a song, a wife of a gallant knight, and a mother of future ladies and gallant knights.      

This is what happened in the Books:

“Honors?” Ned laughed bitterly.

“In his eyes, yes,” she said.

“And in yours?”

“And in mine,” she blazed, angry now. Why couldn’t he see? “He offers his own son in marriage to our daughter, what else would you call that? Sansa might someday be queen. Her sons could rule from the Wall to the mountains of Dorne. What is so wrong with that?”

“Gods, Catelyn, Sansa is only eleven,” Ned said. “And Joffrey … Joffrey is …”

She finished for him. “… crown prince, and heir to the Iron Throne. And I was only twelve when my father promised me to your brother Brandon.”

—A Game of Thrones - Catelyn II

"Joffrey likes your sister," Jeyne whispered, proud as if she had something to do with it. She was the daughter of Winterfell's steward and Sansa's dearest friend. "He told her she was very beautiful."

"He's going to marry her," little Beth said dreamily, hugging herself. "Then Sansa will be queen of all the realm."

Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily. She did everything prettily, Arya thought with dull resentment. "Beth, you shouldn't make up stories," Sansa corrected the younger girl, gently stroking her hair to take the harshness out of her words. She looked at Arya. "What did you think of Prince Joff, sister? He's very gallant, don't you think?"

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

Catelyn pushed Ned to accept the betrothal while Sansa corrected Beth’s comment about her being Queen.  

* * *

Later in the the Fourth Episode of the First Season, Cogman wrote a scene between Sansa and Septa Mordane where the septa says that Sansa will be Queen someday.

Again, this scene is not from the Books.

"Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things"

Season 1, Episode 4: "Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things". Directed by Brian Kirk & Written by Bryan Cogman.

SEPTA MORDANE: Someday your husband will sit there and you will sit by his side. And one day, before too long, you will present your son to the court. All the lords of Westeros will gather here to see the little prince... SANSA: What if I have a girl? SEPTA MORDANE: Gods be good, you'll have boys and girls and plenty of them. SANSA:What if I only have girls? SEPTA MORDANE: I wouldn't worry about that. SANSA:Jeyne Poole's mother had five children, all of them girls. SEPTA MORDANE: Yes, but it's highly unlikely. SANSA: But what if? SEPTA MORDANE: If you only had girls, I suppose the throne would pass to Prince Joffrey's little brother. SANSA: And everyone would hate me. SEPTA MORDANE: Nobody could ever hate you. SANSA: Joffrey does. SEPTA MORDANE: Nonsense. Why would you say such a thing? That business with the wolves? I've told you a hundred times... A direwolf is not... SANSA: Please shut up about it. SEPTA MORDANE: Do you remember your lessons? Who built the Iron Throne? SANSA: Aegon the Conqueror. SEPTA MORDANE: And who built the Red Keep? SANSA: Maegor the Cruel. SEPTA MORDANE: And how many years did it take to build... SANSA: My grandfather and uncle were murdered here, weren't they? SEPTA MORDANE: They were killed on the orders of King Aerys, yes. SANSA: The Mad King. SEPTA MORDANE: Commonly known as the Mad King. SANSA: Why were they killed? SEPTA MORDANE: You should speak to your father about these matters. SANSA: I don't want to speak to my father, ever. SEPTA MORDANE: You will find it in your heart to forgive your father. SANSA: No, I won't.

Watch the scene here.

* * *

Later in the the Sixth Episode of the First Season, there is a scene between Sansa and Joffrey where the prince says that Sansa will be Queen someday.

Once again, this scene is not from the Books.

"A Golden Crown"

Season 1, Episode 6: "A Golden Crown". Directed by Daniel Minahan. Story by  David Benioff & D. B. Weiss & Teleplay written by : Jane Espenson and David Benioff & D. B. Weiss.

SEPTA MORDANE: My prince. SANSA: My prince. JOFFREY: My lady. I fear I have behaved monstrously the past few weeks. With your permission? Joffrey offers Sansa a necklace. She turns around, for him to put it on her, as acceptance. SANSA: It’s beautiful. Like the one your mother wears. JOFFREY: You’ll be queen someday, it’s only fitting that you should look the part. Will you forgive me for my rudeness? SANSA: There’s nothing to forgive. JOFFREY: You’re my lady. One day we’ll be married in the throne room. Lords and ladies from all over the Seven Kingdoms will come, from the last hearth in the North, to the salt shore of the south. And you will be queen over all of them. I’ll never disrespect you again. I’ll never be cruel to you again. Do you understand me? You’re my lady now, from this day, until my last day. The two share their first kiss.

Watch the scene here.

I think that Sansa & Septa Mordane scene and Sansa & Joffrey scene were written from this Book scene:

“The king is dead.” Sansa could not say how she knew it, yet she did. The slow, endless clanging filled their room, as mournful as a dirge. Had some enemy stormed the castle and murdered King Robert? Was that the meaning of the fighting they had heard?

She went to sleep wondering, restless, and fearful. Was her beautiful Joffrey the king now? Or had they killed him too? She was afraid for him, and for her father. If only they would tell her what was happening …

That night Sansa dreamt of Joffrey on the throne, with herself seated beside him in a gown of woven gold. She had a crown on her head, and everyone she had ever known came before her, to bend the knee and say their courtesies.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa IV

So far we have:

Sansa: “And I’d be queen someday.”

Septa Mordane: “Someday your husband will sit there [Iron Throne] and you will sit by his side.”

Joffrey: “You’ll be queen someday.”

The Sansa and Joffrey scene even got his own theme, a song composed by Ramin Djawadi called: 

You’ll Be Queen One Day

¿Why changing “Someday” for “One Day”? Maybe this curious detail means nothing... Maybe it means something...  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Why reiterate some many times that Sansa will be Queen, if it was clear that Sansa was betrothed with the Crown Prince Joffrey Baratheon, the Heir of the Iron Throne?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“—except a very different kind of queen than the one she ended up being.”

This is not the first time that Cogman alluded of that old say that says: “Be careful what you wish for” in regards of Sansa. He said something similar about Sansa’s arc in Season Five, specifically her marriage with Ramsay Bolton. 

Basically, when we decided to combine Sansa’s storyline with another character in the books it was done with the idea that it would be hugely dramatically satisfying to have Sansa back in her occupied childhood home and navigate this Gothic horror story she’s found herself in and, of course, to be reunited with Theon – setting her on the path to reclaiming her family home and becoming a major player in the big overall story. 

This stupid line “hugely dramatically satisfying” is BS of course. Men..........    

I have the impression that after they run out of canon material, D&D, Cogman and all, decided to recycle old plots. Here with Sansa, they basically gave her ANOTHER ONE GOTHIC HORROR STORY.

Since they didn’t like Sansa’s Vale plot as Alayne Stone, they gave Sansa “another lesson” like Kings Landing and Joffrey: “Be careful what you wish for”.

Sansa wished for a Southern Courtly Life with her Prince in Kingslading, and she got a Ghotic Horror Story. 

Sansa started to wish to return North, to Winterfell, to her Home, and D&D, Cogman and all decided to gave her Ghotic Horror Story 2.0 in Winterfell with Ramsay. Sexual abuse included. Men..........        

GRRM uses “Be careful what you wish for” theme very often, you just need to read his tale: “In The Lost Lands” or re-read Cersei’s story with Maggie the Frog. And as I just mentioned, Sansa’s wishes for a life at court in the south with her gallant Prince Joffrey. But D&D are just... not so good adapters.            

“So Sansa’s storyline was always meant to have a note of triumph at the end, especially after all that she went through in the middle of the series.”

¿How the majority of the fandom interpret these Cogman’s words? This way: “Queen Sansa is a reward for Sansa’s Season Five arc.” 

But Season One is four seasons before Season Five, and there were hints since the Pilot Episode... 

The fandom: SANSA WILL NEVER BE QUEEN, ¡¡¡NEEEVEER!!! 

..............................

“It was appropriate that she came full circle at the end. She was the only Stark left in Winterfell and leads the North into this new chapter. She’s the best hope for the North’s future.” 

Full Circle: From wanting to be Queen consort in the South to be the Queen in the North, by her own right.

Sansa’s Show endgame is also very in line with characters getting what they wished for but not in the way they thought. That is like the bit that follows: “Be careful what you wish for” = “You might just get it.” Seriously, go and read GRRM’s tale: “In The Lost Lands.” You can thank me later.     

Please also take note that GRRM has repeatedly said that:

Sansa is a major character. Part of the core that dominates the story.

He knows the endgame of the major characters for decades.

You can read more here.

So, if Queen Sansa is only D&D fan fiction, then WHOA! They planned it all since the very beginning, since the pilot episode itself. How surprising! Especially since GRRM was very involved in the Show back then.  

D&D wrote the pilot: “Sansa’s main function was informing members of her family and the audience that the only thing she wanted was to get out of Winterfell and go live in the big city and become queen.” AND GRRM LET THEM.

Cogman wrote a scene that was not from the Books where Septa Mordane says that Sansa will be Queen someday. AND GRRM LET THEM.

D&D wrote a scene that was not from the Books where Joffrey says that Sansa will be Queen someday. AND GRRM LET THEM.

D&D commissioned Ramin Djawadi to compose a theme for Sansa called: “You’ll Be Queen ONE Day,” for Sansa and Joffrey scene. AND GRRM LET THEM.

D&D wrote that Sansa’s Show endgame was being crowned Queen in the North. AND GRRM LET THEM.

And if you wanna read about Queen Sansa from the Books, please read these posts: Here and Here.

Good night.

#Sansa Stark #The North Remembers #Queen in The North #Game of Thrones #ASOIAF #GRRM

[schnoogles]

kismet

@jonsadungeonsanddrabbles new year event! Day 7: Auld Acquaintance and Mistakes Read on Ao3

The muffled sound of the party was as loud as ever. Everyone was having a good time in there, waiting to count down the clock. As they should be. And Jon? He’s doing what he does best. He’s outside sitting on the porch, brooding. Panicking? He still couldn’t believe he said that. And of course, like the fool he is, he immediately booked it out of there. So here he is: sitting on the porch of Theon’s house, drink in hand, wishing he was drunk so he could forget the last three minutes didn't just happen.

The music and talking was suddenly loud and overbearing for a second before being muffled again. Jon winced. Someone came outside. When he noticed the red hair in his peripheral, his sense of regret grew tenfold.

“So…”

“Look I’m sorry,” he blurted out. She didn’t respond, so he chanced a look at her and saw that she was staring right back at him, confusion written all over her face. And maybe a little hurt.

“Sorry for what? For what you said or for running away?”

He winced. “For- I just… That was bad timing. Honest. And… Look, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Sansa softly laughed. “Right. But what shouldn’t you have done, Jon? Literally running away from me, or-”

“Yeah, no. That one,” he said with a shameful nod. “I regret running away from you. But , I also regret the fact that you overheard our conversation.”

“Oh.”

They hadn’t seen each other in over a year. Jon rarely came back to Winterfell anymore and whenever he did, Sansa would make sure she wasn’t back in town. It was like a game of unspoken avoidance. The last time they saw each other, she was headed off to study in King’s Landing and he was heading back to school in Last Hearth. The last time they saw each other, they ended their relationship.

“High school sweethearts never last,” they said.

“Long distance wasn’t practical for college students,” they rationalized.

“We can still be just friends,” they lied to themselves.

It’s true, they still loved each other. But a platonic love wasn't enough for them. They’re friends and family made their opinions about the breakup and subsequent avoidance well known. But a while, they started keeping their opinions to themselves.

“If we were meant to be together, then we would be together. It’s no one’s business but our own,” they said.

No one believed them. But they kept quiet. Until tonight.

--

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me she was coming,” Jon was saying to Theon. He wasn’t prepared to see her again. Mentally or physically. Sansa, true to herself, was dressed up for the new year’s eve party. Jon was… not.

“Why does it matter?” Theon asked. “If you’re over her like you said-”

“I am.”

“-and you’re both just friends like you said-”

“We are.”

“-then I don’t see the problem.” Theon took a sip from his drink as he raised a brow. “Unless you’re a liar and you finally admit that breaking up was a mistake?”

“It wasn’t- dammit Theon!” Jon pulled at his hair. “You know how I feel about this. I can't just- Look, being with Sansa… it was…” he sighed. Jon couldn’t find the words to say how his relationship with her had been the best feeling in the world. How she was the best. He tried dating other people, but never got past the first date. No one could compare to Sansa. But he knew she’d dated other people. Maybe she had found someone to compare. And now seeing her again after all this time, Jon’s hit a breaking point and he needed to talk to someone about it. Even if that someone was Theon. “Fuck! Fine. You’re right. It was a mistake.”

“Was it?” a voice from behind him asked.

Jon knew that voice. He’d know it anywhere. He whirled around and was face to face with the woman who had his heart. He could never bring himself to confront her about their breakup, so maybe it was kismet that Sansa overheard their conversation. Maybe they can finally talk about getting back together now. Maybe they can-

“Being with me was a mistake?”

One time, in high school, Robb had pushed Jon into the pool because he caught Jon and Sansa making out. That shocking rush of cold is what he felt now. Only this time, it wasn’t followed by immediate laughter.

“Jon?” She crossed her arms at him.

This was wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. This was making him feel lightheaded. He felt claustrophobic. He couldn't breathe. He needed fresh air. He needed-

“I… gotta go.”

He booked it so fast out of the room that he didn’t hear Theon snorting into his drink and he didn’t hear a disgruntled Sansa saying, “In this scenario, shouldn’t I be the one running away in a fit with Jon chasing me?” as Theon continued to laugh.

--

So she chased after him. But she didn't run, she had some dignity after all.

And now she was sitting beside him on the porch in the cold. Sansa needed to clear the air between them. Especially if what he said was true. When she asked Theon about it, all he could do was shrug and told her to ask Jon herself. They’d ask everyone to stop butting in on their relationship so, naturally, the only time Theon would listen to her would be when she wants him to not.

“Do you think we were a mistake?”

“Never.” Jon’s reply was instant. “Sansa, what you overheard was so out of context.”

“Then clear it up for me.”

And so he did. It was now or never. He needed her to know his heart. He needed her to understand that he wanted to be with her. That he didn’t want them to stay broken up and be “friends, but not really.” He didn’t want to keep avoiding her. He didn’t want a future where they meet again after years and only know each other as auld acquaintances. He wanted a future with her by his side. He hoped she wanted that too.

By the time Jon was done, Sansa’s eyes had been slowly welling. His matched.

“We were in love, weren’t we, Jon?” she asked, voice cracking just a bit.

He nodded, hopefully.

“But then we called it off.”

Jon’s world almost shattered right there. This wasn’t the kind of closure he was hoping for, even if he would accept her wishes. But he still had to try.

“I know we called it off, Sansa. But I really, really want to uncall it. Can we please uncall it?”

Tears were fully streaming down her face now. But before Jon could take back his words, she grabbed the bottle from his hands and put it to the side. Still startled from that move, he almost didn’t respond to her pulling him into a kiss. Almost.

Maybe that night was destiny, just not the way he'd thought. As their kisses slowed down, the screaming and shouting in the house behind them grew louder. It was midnight.

They lost a couple of years, but maybe this year can be the start of making up for it.

#jonsa fic #jonsanewyeardrabbles2021 #jonsanewyear2021 #actuallyjonsa #jonsaff #YAY I DID IT #time to nap THEN READ ALLL THE OTHER ENTRIES #my writing #*yeets the fic into the tumblr abyss* BYE

[ladycatofwinterfell]

99

99. “You look stunning”

He knocked on the door to the bathroom.

“Catelyn, we need to leave!”

They had needed to leave fifteen minutes earlier. Catelyn was usually very good at being on time, but now they would be a bit late. And Ned didn’t want to be that person, but it wouldn’t be his fault. It would be Catelyn’s fault.

“I know, I know! I’m almost finished, I’m sorry!”

He glanced at the clock for the tenth time that minute. That she was sorry wouldn’t magically let them get there on time. Their son’s wedding.

Sansa came into the bedroom. She seemed to be as stressed as he was.

“Is she not done yet?” she asked.

“No.”

Sansa sighed.

“Everyone‘s ready except for her, if Jeyne and I take one of the cars I could drive Arya, Bran and Rickon now.”

“Would you do that?”

“Of course.”

He smiled. The children getting older and being able to help around more was definitely something he appreciated. It made everything a lot easier.

“Thank you, Sansa.”

“No problem.”

“Hopefully we won’t be long. Tell Robb that when he’s freaking out.”

Robb had been very nervous the past weeks. Ned could only imagine how he was on the day of the ceremony. Probably not calm. Not that Ned could fault him, he had been about two seconds away from a complete breakdown.

“Theon sent me a picture” Sansa laughed. “Robb’s already freaking out.”

“I can imagine.”

“I’m gonna go see it myself now. See you there.”

“Yes, see you there.”

Sansa left and Ned went back to pacing the room and looking at the clock. He knew that he usually got ready faster than her, but not that much faster. He was just about to knock again when the bathroom door opened and Catelyn came out. And Ned could only stare.

She was wearing a long silver dress with a slit skirt that fit her so perfectly. And he had seen her in that dress before, but together with her hair and her makeup... It was all beautiful. She was beautiful. So very beautiful.

Space and time stopped existing in Ned’s world for a moment. All that existed was the otherworldly beautiful being that he was blessed enough to call his wife.

“Do I look okay?”

What a ridiculous question.

“You look stunning.”

“Thank you, my love. Well, we better get going.”

She walked past him, but he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“We’re already late” she reminded him and raised her eyebrows.

“I know, but I need to look at you for just a moment.”

Ned would gladly be even later if it meant that he could look at her for a bit longer. He didn’t understand how he was supposed to ever take his eyes off her. And he was amazed by that he got to be her husband.

“Is that really necessary?”

Her voice was strict, but her eyes were smiling. She did have wonderful eyes, it was easy to get lost in them.

“It’s very necessary.”

A smile was tugging at the corners of her lips as well as her eyes.

“If you are careful and don’t smudge or mess anything up you can kiss me” she said. “But at your own risk, because if you mess something up I will have no choice but to kill you.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take, you are incredibly beautiful.”

He bent down and very carefully pressed a kiss to her lips. He wanted to linger there, with his hands on her hips and her body close to his. But their eldest son was getting married. And they had to leave.

“Do you really think I’m that beautiful?” she whispered.

“I am sure of that I have never seen a sight more beautiful than you.”

She snorted and turned her eyes to the floor.

“Stop it, you’re gonna make me cry. I’m emotional enough as if it is.”

“You look very composed.”

“I’m glad to hear my act is believable” she chuckled. “But I can only keep it up for so long, so now when you have both looked and touched we really should leave.”

#ned stark #catelyn stark #ned x cat #sansa stark #my drabble

[alinaastarkov]

i am not an anti or a jonrya, i'm just trying to get a grasp on whether or not there's foreshadowing for it. I don't mean offense but I hope you'll humor me. Couldn't Jon thinking of Arya when he meets Ygritte just be him comparing her with his biggest female influence, Bran compares Meera to Arya! Jon saying "What do you know of my heart?" could just be Jon guarding the part of him that loves all of his siblings. Do you think there's any unambiguous evidence? No hate tho, you do you! x

Hey! No offence at all I’m happy to elaborate on asks like this x

There is merit to what you’re saying about the Ygritte comparison, but I am gonna have to disagree. Jon comparing Ygritte to Arya makes sense because they have similar personalities and it helps his admiration of her grow that they are so similar. Jon and Arya are close, naturally someone similar to Arya would be a huge plus in Jon’s eyes.

Jon could see fear and fire in her eyes. Blood ran down her white throat from where the point of his dirk had pricked her. One thrust and it's done, he told himself. He was so close he could smell onion on her breath. She is no older than I am. Something about her made him think of Arya, though they looked nothing at all alike. "Will you yield?" he asked, giving the dirk a half turn. And if she doesn't? - Jon VI, ACOK

"If you kill a man, and never mean t', he's just as dead," Ygritte said stubbornly. Jon had never met anyone so stubborn, except maybe for his little sister Arya. Is she still my sister? he wondered. Was she ever? He had never truly been a Stark, only Lord Eddard's motherless bastard, with no more place at Winterfell than Theon Greyjoy. And even that he'd lost. When a man of the Night's Watch said his words, he put aside his old family and joined a new one, but Jon Snow had lost those brothers too. - Jon III, ASOS

(I’m gonna come back to that second quote cause it’s important).

But these moments aren’t really what we mean when we talk about Jon comparing them meaning romance. It certainly adds up - the qualities he likes in his lover being the same as Arya can’t be ignored, but it’s these moments that are more overt for the romantic foreshadowing:

Ygritte watched and said nothing. She was older than he'd thought at first, Jon realized; maybe as old as twenty, but short for her age, bandy-legged, with a round face, small hands, and a pug nose. Her shaggy mop of red hair stuck out in all directions. She looked plump as she crouched there, but most of that was layers of fur and wool and leather. Underneath all that she could be as skinny as Arya. - Jon VI, ACOK

Ygritte trotted beside Jon as he slowed his garron to a walk. She claimed to be three years older than him, though she stood half a foot shorter; however old she might be, the girl was a tough little thing. Stonesnake had called her a "spearwife" when they'd captured her in the Skirling Pass. She wasn't wed and her weapon of choice was a short curved bow of horn and weirwood, but "spearwife" fit her all the same. She reminded him a little of his sister Arya, though Arya was younger and probably skinnier. It was hard to tell how plump or thin Ygritte might be, with all the furs and skins she wore. - Jon II, ASOS

This is what jumps out as being super inappropriate and definitely non-brotherly. What kind of brother thinks about his lover’s naked body and the compares it to his sister? Not mine, that’s for certain, and thank god. It’s so odd to have this kind of thought if they are supposed to have a pure, sibling bond. Compare that to Bran, whose thoughts are similar to Jon’s first impressions:

“He wouldn't hurt you. He knows I like you." All of the other lords and knights had departed within a day or two of the harvest feast, but the Reeds had stayed to become Bran's constant companions. Jojen was so solemn that Old Nan called him "little grandfather," but Meera reminded Bran of his sister Arya. She wasn't scared to get dirty, and she could run and fight and throw as good as a boy. She was older than Arya, though; almost sixteen, a woman grown. They were both older than Bran, even though his ninth name day had finally come and gone, but they never treated him like a child. - Bran IV, ACOK

Bran never has a moment of thinking about nakedness and Arya, he simply admires the qualities they share which are mostly playful, childhood fun. Bran is also much younger than Jon, and Meera never entered into a relationship with Bran like Ygritte did with Jon. Yes, they both admire Arya-like qualities they find in other women, but on top of that Jon thinks some overtly physical/ almost sexual things and connects them to Arya. I think there’s a clear difference here between Bran’s brotherly thoughts, and Jon’s rather inappropriate thoughts.

Going back to the passage from before, Jon thinks this:

Jon had never met anyone so stubborn, except maybe for his little sister Arya. Is she still my sister? he wondered. Was she ever? - Jon III, ASOS

Bran never has a moment of doubt like this. Arya always is and will always be his sister. Understandable. Jon, however, doubts it constantly. Because of his vows, his bastardy, but there’s something else too. He doubts his other siblings as well, but he doubts it with Arya the most, perhaps rationalising his less-than-brotherly thoughts about her.

There’s no doubt Jon loves all his siblings. He thinks of Bran and Robb constantly and so many quotes are about them, his whole family.

When Jon had been very young, too young to understand what it meant to be a bastard, he used to dream that one day Winterfell might be his. Later, when he was older, he had been ashamed of those dreams. Winterfell would go to Robb and then his sons, or to Bran or Rickon should Robb die childless. And after them came Sansa and Arya. Even to dream otherwise seemed disloyal, as if he were betraying them in his heart, wishing for their deaths. I never wanted this, he thought as he stood before the blue-eyed king and the red woman. I loved Robb, loved all of them . . . I never wanted any harm to come to any of them, but it did. And now there's only me. All he had to do was say the word, and he would be Jon Stark, and nevermore a Snow. All he had to do was pledge this king his fealty, and Winterfell was his. All he had to do . . . . . . was forswear his vows again. - Jon XI, ASOS

Jon flexed the fingers of his sword hand. The Night's Watch takes no part. He closed his fist and opened it again. What you propose is nothing less than treason. He thought of Robb, with snowflakes melting in his hair. Kill the boy and let the man be born. He thought of Bran, clambering up a tower wall, agile as a monkey. Of Rickon's breathless laughter. Of Sansa, brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird's nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … - Jon XIII, ADWD

“What do you know of my heart” is not one of these times. There are no two ways about it, whether you’re a shipper or not. That quote is about Arya, and Arya alone. Jon’s heart is Arya.

"The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you." "I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? Melisandre seemed amused. "What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?" "Arya." His voice was hoarse. "My half-sister, truly …" "… for you are bastard born. I had not forgotten. I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. Coming here, to you. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will." - Jon VI, ADWD

This passage makes it pretty clear. Arya is the one in his thoughts, pretty much exclusively, leading up to this, because of the news of her marriage and Jon’s several attempts to rescue her. Melisandre is the first one to connect Jon’s heart to Arya his sister, and Jon’s thoughts are so explicit here. Arya is his heart, the person who means the most to him. Shipper or not, that’s a fact, though to me, having a brother with the same age gap and both of us would find it very, very weird for him to call me his “heart”, it is extremely romantic. Calling someone your actual “heart” so earnestly is extremely romantic and meaningful. It makes sense seeing as Jon goes on to die for Arya later on.

To me, these are pretty unambiguous. There’s a clear difference between Jon’s thoughts about Arya to the rest of his siblings/ other Starks’ feelings towards each other. I’ve explored more quotes that are hard to be viewed through a sibling lens here too. I’ll just leave you with a quote from GRRM’s original outline because that thing is basically heaven to us Jonrya shippers.

Arya will be more forgiving ... until she realizes, with terror, that she has fallen in love with Jon, who is not only her half-brother but a man of the Night's Watch, sworn to celibacy. Their passion will continue to torment Jon and Arya throughout the trilogy, until the secret of Jon's true parentage is finally revealed in the last book.

#jonrya #asoiaf #my meta #asoiaf meta #jonrya meta #jon snow #arya stark #jon x arya #acok #asos #adwd #original outline #Anonymous #neve has mail

[wishingupontheskyandstars]

Our Secret This Holiday ❄️ Chp. 8

Fic Summary: As the Holidays approach, Arya and Gendry are a new couple spending a lot of time together before they reveal to everyone else that they are dating and what better day to reveal that than on Christmas…

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | AO3 Link Here | Rated M | Inspired Christmas Prompts Link

Chapter 8: Shopping List

It was not yet morning, but Arya could still see snow falling. She stared through her window, feet away. The moonlight was the only light that lingered in her room. She turned around in bed, making sure the blanket covered her naked breasts as her eyes fell on Gendry. He laid on his back with his eyes closed; the blanket was just above his hips.

Arya licked her bottom lip as she gently traced his taut skin with her blunt fingertips. She traced her fingers to his neck, then his left shoulder.

"That felt good," Gendry said in a groggy but deep voice. He opened his eyes and met her stare. "Is it morning yet?"

Arya shook her head, then leaned towards him and kissed him. "I don't want you to go," she mumbled against his lips, feeling his breath on hers. She lifted her left leg and wrapped it around his, making her sit on his thigh.

"Arya, I should go," Gendry whispered.

She shook her head as she gently moved against his thigh, instantly feeling the start of—"Oh..." she moaned as Gendry kissed her, as he brought them both in a sitting position. Arya's hand landed on his cock. She pushed it to be inside her as he gulped.

Arya positioned herself, moved forward, and licked his bottom lip, seeking entrance. Once her tongue touched his, their hips moved together in a fast rhythm, both seeking release.

Gendry kept moving with Arya as he stopped kissing her and lifted a lock of hair from her face, to behind her ear. She grinned as she held on to him while moving with him. "A few more minutes it is," he said before kissing her again.

Sansa drank a tall glass of water in the kitchen downstairs, feeling like she went on one of her runs and not just having three rounds of the most intense orgasms. She put the glass down, wiping any water from her lips, feeling refreshed. She straightened Theon's oversized shirt and made sure it went over her butt.

She opened the fridge and spotted the whipped cream she was looking for. She half-grinned, knowing precisely what she was going to do with it. She stepped back, closing the door until something caught her eye. On the top shelf was a plate of leftover lemon cakes. She smirked, grabbing the plate, and closed the door with her right hip.

With whip cream and lemon cakes in her hands, she started to walk upstairs. If she had not been careful to be quiet, she would not have heard the noise of a door close. Feeling curious, she walked up the stairs faster, and before she reached the landing, she heard the sound of a door closing again as if trying not to make any noise at all. She looked down the hall, one side then the other, and saw no one. She shook her head as she walked to her room, where her boyfriend awaited her.

Hours later, in the dining room, Arya sat across from Jon, both eating breakfast. Jon looked at his younger cousin before drinking a sip of his coffee.

Arya could feel Jon's stare. She ate a link of sausage before her eyes met his. "What is it?" she asked.

"What?"

"I know you're looking at me, and I want to know why." She raised a brow at him.

Jon sighed and pushed his plate away as he crossed his arms. "Why didn't you tell us you were dating?"

Arya's eyes enlarged. "Excuse me?"

"Ygritte and I saw you in front of that Christmas tree in town."

Arya looked down at her plate of food. "You spying on me?"

Jon rolled his eyes. "We stepped out of a shop and saw you two kissing."

"So, I'm not allowed to kiss anyone, am I?"

"Of course you are—I would like to meet the boy that's finally captured your heart. Does he live locally?"

Arya was relieved and thankful to the gods that he didn't see Gendry that night. "Not really," she said finally.

"Well, I would like to—"

"Morning!" Gendry said as he walked into the room, oblivious to what the Stark cousins were talking about.

Jon smiled. "Hey—sleep well?"

"Umm...yes—very good."

Arya bit her lip from grinning as Gendry sat next to Jon and filled his plate with fruit, potatoes, bacon, and eggs.

"It can get cold up here, sometimes unbearable. Hopefully, you had the heater on in your room," Jon said.

Gendry didn't dare look at Arya as he smiled uncomfortably. "Uhh—Yes, heater—on—Mmm." He nodded and poured orange juice in his glass before drinking half of it.

"I don't go to sleep until I know that heater is on," Arya said matter-of-factly, giving Gendry a wink as Jon looked away from them to take another sip of his coffee.

Jon put down his cup and looked over at Gendry and was going to ask him another question when he was blind-sighted by the brown leather jacket he was wearing—like the one he saw the previous evening on the guy that was kissing Arya. His eyes enlarged in realization as he looked at Arya then Gendry, who were both eating, but she caught Arya looking at Gendry. "You!" Was all he said.

Arya wrinkled her nose. "What?"

Jon then turned to Gendry. "And you!" He pointed at him. "It was you I saw with Arya last night—"

"Jon!" Arya exclaimed. She looked worried as she dropped her fork and knife. The sound of cutlery clattering on the plate was the only noise heard.

Gendry swallowed the strawberry he was eating, and he just felt cold, looking at Jon's protective facial expression. He sighed and said, "Yes, we're together."

"Gendry!" Arya crossed her arms in annoyance.

At that second, Catelyn walked into the room, carrying a piece of paper. She nodded towards Gendry and Jon before placing the paper on the table.

Jon whispered to Gendry in an almost angry tone, "I want to talk to you after breakfast, alone."

Gendry only nodded in response then looked at his plate.

Arya, not wanting her mother to ask what just happened, said, "Morning, mother," looking at the paper suspiciously but knowing what it was.

"Good morning, Arya. Here is a list of things to buy today. I recommend going as soon as you finished with breakfast. No doubt the mall will be filled with people by noon."

Arya nodded, looking at the list, front and back. Catelyn then placed a credit card on the table. "Bring back the receipts," she said in a no-nonsense tone.

Arya nodded. "Of course."

Catelyn turned to Gendry. "Thank you again, Gendry, for driving with Arya up here."

"No problem, Mrs. Stark. It was a pleasure." He smiled then almost grimaced at what he just said. "Arya and I caught up on a lot of things driving up here."

"We did," Arya said with an almost smile. Gendry coughed and drank more of his juice.

Jon looked away, eating more food from his plate.

Oblivious to their interaction, Catelyn smiled. "Good, well I—"

"I'm going to need help with the bags and running around," Arya started. She shrugged and asked Gendry, "Do you mind coming with me?" She bit her lip as if in anticipation. "Sorry for asking, but—"

"Yeah—okay." Gendry nodded.

Catelyn smiled, grateful for his help. "Wonderful, you can take Ned's truck. It's big enough to fit everything from the list."

"Super," Arya said, grinning at Gendry. Jon looked at Arya, looking at Gendry. He furrowed his brows, then shook his head as he finished his cup of coffee.

"Gah! How are we supposed to find everything with so many stores—We're lost! I hate shopping!" Arya said with frustration looking at all the stores around them.

Gendry sighed. "Me too." He looked at all the people walking around to the different stores and food court. He shivered as he tried to keep warm with his brown leather jacket. "And it's freezing in here!" He scowled.

Arya chuckled. "You're always cold up here." She leaned into him and looked up at his beautiful face. "I'm here to keep you warm." She kissed his lips softly.

Gendry leaned into the kiss, feeling warm already.

"Did that work?"

"Mmm."

Arya sighed, dreading what she knew she had to ask. "Okay, what did he say to you? He couldn't even look at me—the jerk."

He sighed. "He wanted to know when our relationship started and if it was serious and not a fling."

"So, what if we were? We're grown-ass adults." Arya rolled her eyes. "What did you say?"

"I told the truth, we're in love, and we plan to tell your parents and family Christmas day."

Arya grinned. "Did he say anything else?"

He shrugged. "He was surprised, but you know Jon, he can't stay mad for too long. He only said if I did anything to cause you to hurt, he would umm kill me."

"Ah, so the usual then."

"Yup."

Arya chuckled. "Well, there's someone else that knows." She leaned against Gendry and read the list her mother gave her. "Let's see...for Sansa...Scented candles..." Arya gives a wide smile. "Hmm, instead of vanilla, lavender, and rose...we'll get bubblegum, licorice, and pumpkin—she hates licorice."

"You're wicked."

"Ha—and for Jon and Ygritte, she will get her ugg slippers, but for Jon, all they had were croc sandals."

Gendry shook his head as he started to walk with Arya still leaning on him. "Come on, you Grinch," he said playfully.

"Bran—warm sweaters—or in the deal section, we'll find summer clothes like caps, shorts, and tank tops." She laughed. "Okay, this shopping might be better than I thought."

#gendrya #arya x gendry #ao3 #fanfic #multi chapter fic #inspired by Tumblr prompt #Holidays #Christmas #my fanfic

[tinytendril]

For diligentocelet Prompt: ‘OH you’re jealous!’ - High School AU Pairing: Theonsa Word Count: 2240 Rating: T

‘Ow!’

‘Hold still.’

‘Oi, that’s my eye!’

‘You’ll lose one if you don’t hold still.’

Being in a house full of siblings with semi-permanent skinned knees and bruises, Sansa had always known her way around a first aid kit. 

But Theon was not a sibling. Swabbing near his eyebrow, touching the swollen skin around the cut there, felt oddly intimate. Other than elbowing him to get to the roasted potatoes because he was a guest at family dinners and therefore not entitled to first helpings of anything (and because he tended to use a heavy hand in plating his meal), she never had a reason to place her hands on him. 

His silence in letting her finally patch him up didn’t help. Neither did her observations of how blue his eyes were on closer inspection. They weren’t like hers, they were lighter and somehow piercing in a way that made her feel a sudden prick to her heart, effectively making it beat faster. 

No, no, no, sod that. She wasn’t one of Theon’s girls. The girls that would swoon over how handsome he is and forget about all the ways he tends to forget about them. This last thought makes her hands drop from his face.

Gulping a rather dry lump in her throat, she has to ask, ‘Why did you do it? And why have you been telling everyone to not ask me out?’

He winces, possibly due to the sudden movement he makes of his wrist, the one that’s connected to his scraped fist, the fist that had solidly connected to Joffrey Baratheon’s left cheek. She would tell him to suck it up, but then she remembers the spectacularly fearful look Joffrey had on his face as he cowered under Theon. 

‘One, Joffrey’s a prick. Freebie,’ he says, starting to count on his fingers. ‘Two, I’d rather not see my best mate’s sister groped in public, thanks.’

‘And why have you been telling—’

‘I don’t know what you’re on about, Stark.’

Sansa leans back, folding her arms to her chest and curling her lips backward, trying her best to display her impatience. After a few maddening seconds of staring at his impassive gaze, restless on her seat on the steps to their school’s entrance, she bursts, ‘You’re not Robb, you know. You don’t have an excuse to tell people—’

‘The rugby team,’ he interjects.

‘Ha!’ she exclaims, jabbing her index finger into his chest. ‘Hang on, the whole team?’

She smirks as she hands him an ice pack, mildly impressed by this news. It makes him pull a face. 

‘You know, if Robb hadn’t left me here for his fancy school in the south to babysit—fuck’s sake.’ He winces as he places the ice pack on the side of his mouth that’s bruised. 

‘You’re not my brother, Theon,’ she tells him, her eyes narrow at him.

‘Yeah, well,’ he says, gesturing uselessly. Then, he abruptly gets up from his seat and starts toward the school’s car park. Throwing his voice over his shoulder, he asks, ‘Can we leave it for now? Unless you fancy walking home tonight.’

She rolls her eyes, knowing he wouldn’t go back on promising Jon that he’d give her a ride home, even if he wanted to. 

‘Theon, hold on,’ she sighs, quickly packing up her first aid kit and her other belongings to catch up to his side. 

As she jogs up to him, she can’t help but feel uneasy around him again. His tendency to find an easy joke or slyly find a way to diffuse a situation seems absent here. Even his walk toward the car park seems tense, with hands shoved into his pockets and grumbled, indiscernible comments made under his breath. She wonders if he’s still angry that he didn’t get the last punch in or if he’s angry that Joffrey’s friend did. 

‘Theon,’ she tries gently as they strap themselves into their seats in his car. ‘Even if I’m completely against fighting and definitely did not enjoy the sexist remarks from our headmaster—no, sir, I will not find a longer hemline for my skirt—I should thank you. I mean… just… thank you.’

It’s not much but he does pause to give her a hesitant nod before he turns his key to start the ignition. And allowing her to pick the music on their way to her house wouldn’t seem like a big deal for most people, but she knew that letting her play a curated list of nostalgic boy bands songs from the 90s is a big deal. 

And it is a big deal that he’s not talking. It’s his thing. Yes, his looks have gotten him so far, all the way into his last year of secondary school, but it’s his gift for turning a phrase or saying the right (and sometimes the wrong) amount of cheeky things that charms anyone that encounters him. 

She’s so uncomfortable with the silence that she doesn’t think before asking, ‘Right, can we at least talk about what happens next?’ 

‘Erm—’

‘I can’t not date. I’m nearly sixteen. And as embarrassing as it is to admit this to you, the truth is… I’ve never actually had a boyfriend before or gone on a real date.’

‘All the more reason—’

‘You know, I wouldn’t even consider anyone on your rugby team. So, you don’t have to worry about that. But if I do find someone that’s shown some interest and is respectable, you have to promise not to interfere,’ she reasons with him. 

He gives her a fleeting glance before getting off the roundabout just ahead of her street, his hands tightening their grip on the steering wheel. ‘So… is there someone?’

She thinks of the random text she got a week ago, a text that gives her pause to think of Theon’s question. 

‘Podrick.’

‘Payne?’

‘Is there another Podrick at school?’ 

He rolls his eyes while concentrating on the road. ‘He’s… not horrible.’

‘So, it’s settled.’ She smiles triumphantly. ‘You can’t stop him from asking—’

The car and her music come to a jerking stop. They’ve arrived at her house. 

‘Theon,’ she huffs, adjusting her hair from the sudden jarring motion, trying to move the curtain of thick red hair out of her face. ‘What is your problem?’

‘Problem? I’ve got zero problems. You’ve made your point. Date away.’ He shrugs, finally facing her, his mouth tightly spread into a straight line. 

Something pricks at her heart again, its pace quickening. She asks, ‘Is he vile like Joffrey?’

He shakes his head. ‘‘Course not.’

‘Is he texting other girls too?’

He lets out a laugh. ‘Doubt it.’

‘How would you know?’

‘He’s just not that kind of bloke, is he?’

‘Is he boring? Why am I sensing a but here?’

He shrugs again, frustrating her more. Somehow, this brings back his habitual smirking and a glint in his eyes. She decides this won’t do. He would not be getting a thanks and negotiating whether or not she was ready for a boyfriend today.

‘Oh,’ she says, narrowing her eyes. Then, ‘Oh, you’re jealous.’

Other than the urge to wipe his smirk off his face, she doesn’t know what possesses her to say that, to accuse him of that, but it’s out now and it’s too late to take back her words. 

‘Wh-what?’ He stammers. ‘You’re mad, Stark. Completely off the mark.’

‘You haven’t denied it.’ She’s on a streak for impulsive responses and she supposes she might as well find out what his stammering is all about.

‘Right,’ he starts, his useless gesturing returns. However, this time, he’s blushing too. ‘If you want to crack on with Payne, go on. If you think he’ll put up with your awful taste in music and make you laugh and drive you home and get on with your family, then I won’t stop you.’

As much as the air had been charged with something since they got into his car, the irritation she felt earlier seemed amplified and changed into… What? She was still trying to figure that out.

‘Okay,’ she says, not quite sure if this was the response she expected. 

Then, more calmly, he explains, ‘I mean it, if that’s what you really want, I won’t interfere. Is that what you want?’

It’s when he poses this question to her that she does figure out something that’s been plaguing her since Podrick sent his text. Podrick is a lovely boy with a lovely plan for her very first date… but she’s not sure if want was the word she would describe her feelings toward him. As Theon seems to anxiously wait for her response to this, she realizes what she’s been feeling all along.

‘I might… not actually want… him,’ she admits, embarrassed. ‘But it was nice to have someone notice me the way he did.’

Theon looks away again, hands back on the steering wheel, his thumbs digging into its leather sleeve. ‘People notice you, Sansa.’

‘Don’t bring up your rugby team again.’

‘I wasn’t,’ he turns to give her a look, one that actually looks like he’s trying his hardest to convey something. ‘You’re clever and you won’t let me forget it… and you’re kind and funny and… you know you’re beautiful. You’ve been told that dozens of times—’

‘By my mum and gran,’ she offers shyly, feeling a warm flush in her cheeks. 

‘Still… Just because you haven’t gotten to do any dating yet, it doesn’t mean it won’t happen.’ She interrupts him by asking if she’ll be as prolific in that department as he is, but he ignores her to continue, ‘I promise I’ll bugger off if you decide you found someone good and someone you want.’

Not the first time today, she genuinely tells him, ‘Thanks, Theon.’

‘At least one of us got what they wanted today,’ he chuckles lightly, his hands finally relaxing and letting go of the steering wheel.

‘What—’

‘Y’arite, you two?’ Comes a muffled voice at Sansa’s side of the car. Jon is rapping at her window. ‘You two have been down here for ages, what’s the matter?’

As Theon lowers Sansa’s window, Jon winces at the sight of Theon’s face. ‘Fucking hell, Greyjoy. What happened to you?’

Both Theon and Sansa exchange furtive looks, knowing there would be an inevitable way Jon would find out. 

‘Are you two going to spit it out or will I have to invite Theon in for dinner so dad will pry it out of him instead?’ he drawls. 

‘Joffrey smacked my arse. Theon smacked him down. Joffrey’s friends decided to gang up on Theon. Headmaster told all of us off. He might ring up dad and mum so they can tell me off again. I’m going to continue to dress the way I want for school. And if Joffrey decides to touch me again, I’m going to bray him myself.’ Sansa contemplates her explanation, ignoring the raised eyebrows of both boys, and then decides she’s satisfied with it.

‘Well, kettle’s on and Catelyn’s just about to take out the roast for dinner.’ Jon poorly hides his amusement to add, ‘So, come in, Theon. If the headmaster rings us up during dinner, you might as well be here to defend yourself.’

Jon accosts Theon as they reach the steps to the house, not bothering to look discreet about asking for the details of the fight, while she stays behind. Something about her conversation with Theon makes her want to fall back and mull over his words. His entire posture changing in various ways throughout their drive. His curiosity in Podrick. His calling her beautiful...

What did she want? That’s the question on her mind again. Also… Why was she staring at the back of Theon’s neck like she was fascinated by it? If she stared hard enough, was she going to find the answers written all over him?

‘I heard Theon handed Joffrey his arse.’ Arya has somehow materialized in front of her, bursting through her train of thought. 

Annoyed, she nudges her sister away from blocking her way to the kitchen.

‘Why are you so red? Are you blushing?’ Arya asks.

Sansa freezes, trying desperately not to look at Theon then. Schooling her features for her sister, she feigns innocence, ‘I’m not blushing.’

Arya’s eyes narrow at her as if she’s poised to point something out, maybe a connection to this and Theon. She’s always been frighteningly good at reading Sansa’s mind.

Then, just as Sansa starts getting used to all of the sudden jolts her heart’s been enduring today, Arya just shrugs and whispers so they won’t be heard by their siblings filtering into the kitchen or Theon settling into his seats at the dining table. ‘It’s a good thing Theon was there… It’s also a good thing Robb’s not here for whatever’s happening now.’

Before she can deny this, Arya turns on the spot to jump into Jon and Theon’s space and conversation, laughing at Theon's animated reenactment of the fight. 

Normally, she’d join in and throw various scandalized looks his way. Neither happens. When she sits next to him, and when the roasted potatoes come along, she tries her best to neither look at her sister or cut in to grab a helping of her mother’s coveted dish. 

But, as if one cue, Theon offers, ‘Would you like some?’

Without looking up, she feels rather than sees Arya and Theon’s eyes on her. 

#theonsa #theon x sansa #theon greyjoy #sansa stark #got fanfic

[7deadlycinderellas]

No more math and history, ch6

Ao3 link

BIG TW in this chapter for discussion of an incident of religiously motivated child abuse. Please read responsibly.

  Halfway through second session, Sansa’s halfway through reading a letter when she suddenly starts slapping the side of Arya’s arm, making her drop her sandwich.

“You’re never going to believe this!” she gushes, pushing the folded letter at Arya. She takes it and scans the words quickly.

Gendry has paused eating his soup.

“What is it?”

Arya can barely believe her eyes. There’s a polaroid photo included and Arya runs her finger over it.

“Robb wrote that Nymeria came home. Gods, it’s been six years, I figured…”

She doesn’t say. There are still wolves in the north. She stares at the photo, at Nym’s blue eyes, at her gray markings. She wonders if she will even remember her.

It’s nice for a letter to bring good news this time.

She’s sick of Ygritte being so distant, so between her and Sansa, they decide to ambush her during the next rest period.

They both approach her on her cot with arms crossed.

“OK, Ygritte, we’re not leaving until you tell us what’s wrong.”

She tries to stare them down, but Arya and Sansa are better at it than her. With a deep sigh, she reaches into her trunk at the end of her bunk and pulls out a folded, battered letter.

Arya scans the back before turning it over. Sansa hunches over her shoulder so they both can read at the same time.

“You didn’t tell us you heard from Jon,” she says, miffed, “He hasn’t written any of us yet.”

Sansa’s still reading while Arya talks and gets to the middle of the letter first. She clamps her hands over her mouth to stifle a squeal.

Ygritte looks at them both, and mutters, helpfully, as though they hadn’t just read the letter.

“He asked me to marry him.”

Sansa squeals and her hands fly to her mouth. After she’s calmed down, she asks.

“Don’t you want to be part of our family?”

Arya rolls her eyes.

“Don’t mind her, she’s as big a romantic moron as Jon has always been. Also-”

Arya runs her finger along one line in the letter.

“He asked you, ‘how you would feel about getting married’, pretty sure that’s as indirect as Jon can get. He’s probably terrified of what you’ll say.”

Ygritte looks at Arya dubiously.

“So what should I tell him?”

Arya shrugs.

“Tell him how you do feel about getting married. Which, I might ask, is what?”

Ygritte sighs and pulls her knees up to her chest.

“It’s not that I never want to get married, but seven hells, I’m only twenty. I see half the girls who leave school up north at sixteen and get married immediately. They’re my age and half of them already have kids and the other half work shit waitressing jobs while their husband’s run sheep and drink, and it’s just- Forever is such a long, long time to think about...”

Arya rolls her eyes.

“Then tell him that.”

“Isn’t that a little-”

Arya rolls them again, and sits at the end of Ygritte’s bunk.

“Ygritte, you’re the only serious girlfriend Jon’s ever had. You’ve been together for like, five years, and he never even looks at other girls. I’m pretty sure telling him you’re scared to get married so young won’t be a deal breaker.”

“It’s also sort of a cliche for young soldiers to marry immediately upon enlistment, then come home and discover their wives were unfaithful, might want to remind Jon of that,” Sansa comments. Arya snorts. Sansa watches far too many sappy made for TV movies. She’s heard Robb’s friend Theon make a couple of cracks at Jon to make sure he doesn’t get himself tied to a “dependapotamus” too. Arya had lashed out at Theon for being insensitive as usual, but on his rare phone calls, Jon hadn’t seemed to think the other recruits were bastions of rational decision making.

“Just,” Arya adds before she leaves with Sansa, “Don’t panic and make a decision you’ll regret later.” She should write Jon and remind him to keep that in mind too. She’ll go get some stationary at the tuck shop later. “Take your time. That’s one of the benefits of only being able to get snail mail out here.”

Marriage, Arya can barely believe it. It’s such a grown up concern, out here in the woods. She thinks of Jon, off with the Air Force, standing and marching, and wonders if he wishes he were here, even when he is also thinking of marriage.

Later that week, Gendry comes to breakfast whistling. When Arya eyes him, he rolls up his shirt sleeve.

“Made it twenty-four hours without a patch. I now declare myself free of nicotine’s power over my mind and my wallet.”

Arya gives him a high-five and Shireen follows up.

“Shireen was the one who really pushed me to quit,” Gendry confides in Arya. “She really doesn’t like fire, and is apparently invested in me living to old age.”

Gendry’s so pleased with himself that Arya hates reminding him that the canoe races start today. He slumps over when she does. Gendry’s really not suited to a counselor role, he’s far too anti-social, but he’s quite good at enforcing rules and enforcing them fairly. But the races bring out the most rambunctious and the most competitive among the campers and there are frequently tears and occasionally blood. He spends the days of the races even more sullen than normal.

The day of the semi-final races, Tommen Baratheon flips out of his canoe and doesn’t come back up. A blow of the whistle, and it’s the first actual rescue Arya’s seen happen at camp in years. The air is thick with anticipation, as everyone stays still, buddy arms up, watching the water.

The canoes are still sitting idle when Gendry jumps in and pulls Tommen from the water. He’s limp and pale, and Gendry lays him on the shore, and checks his airway. He hasn’t even had a chance to check his pulse when Tommen coughs and the air thins and everyone can breathe again.

“That was fucking terrifying,” he admits to Arya, “but...sort of exhilarating too.”

“It was exhilarating to watch,” Arya tells him. It’s true, she rarely gets to see him so confident and self-assured. It’s like watching a great athlete play, but Gendry’s never really been able to give half a hoot about competition when they played anything. It’s such a huge change, to see him so... sure of himself. It’s nice, really.

But even afterwards, he’s tense through the end of the races, a tiny bit shaken up by the save.

The night the races end, he looks incredibly relieved. That’s the same night that Shireen whispers to Arya.

“My cabin’s doing a snack raid tonight. You should bring Gendry and help him cheer up.”

That Arya can definitely handle, she’d been so disappointed at the end of first session when Hot Pie hadn’t managed to tell them when any of these were planned.

After campfire, Arya grabs his hand.

“Snack orgy tonight with Shireen’s cabin, give me five minutes to change into my stretchy trousers.”

Snack raids were always an exciting event as a camper. Despite this, Arya is still a bit disappointed in herself that she never realized how carefully they were planned. They not only never got caught, but they always seemed to happen right when there were two or three of the big ten gallon ice cream drums close to their expiration dates. And somehow, the kitchen staff never locked up or put the toppings away.

Not that any of this knowledge stops Arya from loading up her sundae with crushed pineapple and whipped cream.

Shireen’s cabin is young enough that snack raids are an entirely new concept, so thankfully they are too excited by the ice cream to truly cause any real mischief, and keeping an eye on them in the kitchen is easy.

“Y’know, the first time we did this, Sansa was completely convinced we were going to get kicked out if we were caught,” Arya whispers to Shireen while Gendry squirts the can of whipped cream into a camper’s open mouth.

“She always was the rule abiding type,” Gendry adds.

Shireen slumps a bit, her cheeks red.

“I’ve always been like that too.”

The whole group is quiet for a bit, when one of the younger girls approaches with her spoon.

“Will the cold make your face stop hurting?”

Shireen smiles.

“Thank you for thinking of me, Lily, but it’s just scar tissue, it doesn’t hurt.”

Shireen’s eyes drift downward as the girl pads away, and Arya forces her mouth to stay closed but the words start tumbling from Shireen’s mouth regardless.

“Arya, you said you thought the Lord of Light was from Essos, did you ever hear about his followers affinity for fire?”

Arya is frozen, her eyes trailing towards Gendry, who is nearly as still as she is.

“No, no I can’t say I have.”

Shireen’s tilting forward, her bowl of strawberry ice cream sitting at her chin, untouched.

“That’s his follower’s favorite topic, cleansing and blessing by fire. When I was young and my father first started making me go to services with mum, it was all they talked about. Then a new priestess came to Dragonstone, all the way from Asshai. She was different. She didn’t just like talking about it. No matter how short a sermon was, there was always a fire on the altar.”

Next to her, Arya watches Gendry stiffen.

“After that, we had to go to chapel every night, not just on Sundays. We weren’t supposed to do anything else at all it seemed. And her sermons were longer, and bigger. She made people stand up and profess things...and they burned things. At first it was just books and things she insisted were wrong, but then…”

Arya’s mind is racing. She knows the sort of thing Shireen was describing. In history class a few years they’d learned the word. A cult. Arya darts her eyes around trying to see if anyone else is listening, but thankfully the younger girls are chattering away.

Shireen reaches up and touches the side of her face.

“I had chicken pox bad as a kid, it left some nasty scars. My mum used to try and cover it up, but it always stuck out.”

Arya nods.

“I was so upset they got the vaccination like, a year, after I had it.”

She’s desperately trying to lighten the mood. She knows sometimes when people ask about her parents and her past, her words could get sort of heavy. It went with the territory, but Arya’s actually almost frightened of where this goes.

“This priestess, her name was Melisandre. I don’t know if that was her first or last name. She sort of fixated on my scars. Kept saying she would purify me of them.”

Arya’s beginning to shake as she thinks of what could be coming.

“I’d seen her...the chapel had a fire of hot coals. Standing over them was said to purify your breath. She would sometimes call people to the front of the congregation and have them lay their hands on the coals, for what she said was ‘spiritual healing’”.

Shireen’s hugging her middle with both arms now.

“She used to take my father aside and talk to him, and he always came away angry, until one day he didn’t. One day, Melisandre spoke to him, and he led me to the front. I don’t remember thinking anything was strange, until she held the coal to my face.”

Arya’s stomach churns. It’s taking near all her power to keep her sundae down.

“I don’t really remember it that well. I think I must have screamed, but all the rest I remember is the smell. Like cooked meat.”

“That must have been when Mr Davos called emergency services,” Gendry interrupts. Arya frowns slightly, somehow still being able to express further confusion at his response.

Shireen nods.

“I was in hospital for a while, then I went straight into care. The nurses kept going on about how lucky I was not to lose my eye…”

“They like to do that,” Arya interrupts. She has to interrupt. Shireen’s eyes are shining like she’s going to cry and if she cries, Arya won’t be able to stop herself and they’ll have a mess hall full of curious pre-pubescent girls who have magically managed to not hear this terrible story. “When Bran was in hospital after his accident, he said they wouldn’t stop talking about how much worse it could have been.”

Shireen chuckles grimly, but otherwise stays quiet, her eyes squeezed shut. Arya and Gendry both lean forward at about the same time and each hug about half of her. It feels so strange that Arya already knows how to do this with so much grace.

When they walk back, Arya asks Gendry quietly,

“You knew all of this?”

He nods.

“Mr Davos took us in at the same time, he used to be close to her father. He hardly spoke at all when he brought her home from hospital. We had to take her in for appointments regularly after that, for nearly a year. She had to have skin grafts and all that jazz.”

Arya stays silent for a bit.

“How is she dealing with it?”

Gendry pinches his nose and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I don’t think she is. She doesn’t say a word, and last time her parents had supervised visitation, she went completely stony faced for a week, and for another week after the visit. I used to think it was just to deal with the media- there was a fair amount for about a week on TV down in the Crownlands about the ‘mad rich people cult’ down in Dragonstone before something else took over. That’s why I let her keep going, because she never talks at all about it.”

Arya sighs. She knows that too well, sucking all your feelings in and keeping them inside until they threaten to explode.

“I should tell her to talk to Bran,” Arya says, thinking, “He was always the only one of us who was good at feelings, I think his cabin’s up for archery rankings in a few days, I’ll have to ask him while we’re at that.”

Arya chuckles. And if talking doesn’t help, shooting things might, even if it involves sacrificing one of her precious days off.

Arya has hardly seen Meera this past week because she’s been setting things up. The Mormont girl who’s her junior this year looks the same as every other Mormont. Arya has missed archery a lot, it’s not something she can exactly practice at home.

For added fun, it turns out Bran can still draw and shoot even without dropping the arm of his chair.

Bran tells her he’s spoken with Shireen a bit at meals and when their cabins share activities. Arya asks him if Shireen has talked to him at all about her past.

“Just little bits here and there, I never wanted to pry.”

“I’m not telling you to pry but...Gendry says he thinks she really needs to talk to someone.”

“Y’know of all the things I thought would be different after the accident, I never thought that it would make people talk to me about everything. At this point they should just give me a therapist’s license.”

Arya feels a smile quirk at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s because they know you can’t run away.”

There’s a brief lull when Meera pauses to announce the current rankings. Arya watches Bran’s eyes linger a bit on her and can’t resist the urge to tease.

“Still?” she asks.

Bran sighs.

“Still.”

The summer before the Starks had first come to Camp Durrandon, Meera and her brother Jojen had both spent the summer up north with them, their father having been an old friend of Ned’s.

“At least we don’t have to fight over her attention anymore.” Arya comments. Not that they’d ever really wanted the same sort of attention from Meera. Being twelve to Arya’s ten and Bran’s nine, she hadn’t paid either of them any mind that year, choosing instead to spend the summer trying to climb every tree on the grounds of Winterfell, and very nearly succeeding.

Something pricks at the back of Arya’s mind and she asks.

“Has she been being kind of distant lately or is it just me?”

Bran turns and cocks his head in Arya’s direction, his face disbelieving.

“Well it is her last summer here, I think it would be pretty normal to be a little sad.”

Arya’s eyebrows fly up into her hairline. Her mind had somehow skipped over that fact.

“I don’t think I even processed that. Her not being here with us will be so strange.”

Bran shrugs.

“Well it’s not like the conservation corps have summer holidays. It’ll be three years until she returns to civilization full time.”

Bran’s ears are a little pink, and it suddenly hits Arya that he and Meera are only one year further apart than her and Gendry.

“You ever think of telling her?”

“I don’t know what good it would do, especially now. Maybe I’ll tell when she gets back.”

“Do you think you’ll still feel that way after three whole years?”

Bran’s eyes get the strange, old look they get sometimes when he’s thinking hard. Mum had once laughed and said Bran seemingly had a soul a thousand years older than him.

“I mean, I didn’t think I would still feel this way now. I thought I would grow up and my feelings would fade. That’s the way it always goes in films. But I haven’t.”

Arya smiles, and pats Bran on the shoulder.

“You see? Things like this are why I say you’re better at feelings than me.”

It doesn’t take much prodding for Bran to agree to talk to Shireen more when their cabins do activities together, and by the end of the rankings, Arya places rather well considering she hasn’t shot in years.

That night, in their cabin, Arya ambushes Meera with a hug. Ygritte’s gone to the tuck shop to buy some more paper, but she hasn’t mentioned if she’d written Jon back yet. Regardless, it leaves Arya and Meera alone.

“M’sorry, I didn’t even realize you might not be coming back next summer.”

Meera still, but laughs.

“It’s okay. I’ve not tried to think about it too much either. It’s all so big...no more summer holidays, no more exams, no more uniforms with skirts and ties.”

Arya chuckles and tries not to be glad that the system in Winterfell didn’t require uniforms after junior school.

“I think that’s part of the reason I always liked coming here so much. It’s like all the rest of the world disappears for three months.”

And Arya realizes that’s so much of the reason why she loves it here too.

And she realizes the next day at the kickball tournament that second session is one day away from ending.

She’s in the stands with most of the camp, watching Shireen’s cabin going against Myrcella Baratheon’s, and only half paying attention when she realizes Ygritte and Sansa to her side are spiritedly debating as to the baseball euphemisms.

“I��m just saying,” Sansa starts, “Doesn’t it basically imply that lesbians can never hit a home run?”

Arya snorts.

“Well I didn’t come up with the thing,” Ygritte responds, “You like girls, make your own metaphor.”

“Maybe that means that you can still go to Mum’s church on Maiden’s Day with a clear conscience,” Arya teases Sansa, “Since according to this bit of common knowledge you have no way of not being a virgin.”

Sansa huffs.

“The bases are sort of vague,” Arya continues, “especially since I’ve only ever heard them described as second being above the waist and third being below.”

“True,” Ygritte agrees, “I mean, a fella touching your chest through your sweater isn’t quite the same as being stripped to the waist and him sucking your chest full of love bites.”

The back of Arya’s neck goes pink, and later that night when her and Gendry are on the ground behind the equipment shed again.

A few nights ago, he’d snaked one hand up her shirt and gently begun to tug on her nipples. Tonight it only takes a little convincing to make him duck his head and experimentally take one between his lips.

Second base, head first, Arya thinks with a giggle. Looking up at her, Gendry’s eyes have a mischievous twinkle, one she hasn’t seen on him a lot.

“Something gotten into you tonight?”

Arya reaches out and runs her hand along the side of his face, fingers catching on the slight hint of a beard he doesn’t bother shaving out here.

“Just thinking about some things.”

“Good things?”

Arya tugs on his ear to pull him up into a kiss before responding.

“Mostly.”

She’s thinking about how good this feels, how nice Gendry looks in the moonlight. She’s thinking of sports euphemisms and the hide and seek game tomorrow. She is pointedly not thinking of Ygritte’s letter and Meera’s job. And she is definitely not thinking about summer being almost over.

#game of thrones #A Song of Ice and Fire #gendrya #summer camp au #fic

[ninaahelvar]

Chivalry Fell On Its Sword (10/23)

Summary: All Arya wanted so to feel normal and go outside of the damn castle. Now, through a series of unfortunate, she’s stuck with a bodyguard that she accidentally flirted with: Gendry Waters.

AO3

A/N: LONG TIME NO SEE! So, I did nanowrimo 2019, and I worked on my book and NOTHING ELSE. so it's a miracle that i've managed to write this chapter in like two days. I hope you guys enjoy my comeback. hopefully it isn't crap. i very much enjoyed writing this chapter! happy to be back and happy to give you guys some happiness.......

Gendry stood at her doorway, stealing kiss after kiss, Arya’s small smile into each making him feel alive. Regardless of how many times he did it, he never got tired of kissing her - she was joy incarnate for him, a source of light when everything around him was dark. 

“I have to go, they’re going to call a meeting soon,” Gendry said in between kisses. 

“I wonder why. You’re always late,” Arya laughed, pulling on his tie to keep him in place.

“I needed to get you up somehow, wasn’t my fault you kept my head between your legs,” he reminded as Arya giggled, her hand on the back of his neck, almost forcing him to stay. Under any other circumstances, he’d stay and finish the job of that morning, but the time was being pushed. 

“Shut up before someone sees you,” she said, planting one more kiss on his lips, shoving his chest. 

“I’ll be back in like twenty minutes, don’t do anything reckless in the meantime,” he said, fixing up his jacket and tie, trying to seem like he was actually in order. He wasn’t, but it was good to pretend, considering what a mess his life was. Secretly dating royalty was one thing, but also being her bodyguard was another act of ‘you’re a complete dumbass if you think you’re getting away with this’ but hey, he was having fun in the meantime. 

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” Arya smirked, and Gendry moved back into her space, kissing her with the depth only the night should ever bring. Her moan was intoxicating to listen to, and it became even harder to pull away. 

“I’m serious, don’t fuck me over,” he said, wrenching himself from her hold and moving down the hallway quickly. 

“I thought I already did that,” she said, and Gendry stopped, looking at her with wide eyes and a shocked expression. She was begging for them to be caught out.

“Oh shut up,” she shot back, watching as a bright smile echoed on her face. It filled him with a joy he couldn’t quite describe. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, waving over his shoulder as he moved down the hall and got into the role of bodyguard he had somewhat forgotten among the night in the sheets of royalty.

 *~*~*

 Arya knew that Gendry was going to be longer than twenty minutes, as she texted Brienne about going to breakfast. By Brienne’s message, it was clear that her twenty minute wait for Gendry would be closer to an hour. So, in the meantime, she organised with Sansa to walk around the palace grounds after they grabbed a quick breakfast. 

On the second floor landing, amongst the construction for the elevator, the sisters walked arm in arm, their legs overlapping as they walked, with Arya’s left leg going far and Sansa’s left crossed in front of Arya’s right. It continued with each leg and each direction. 

With the workers all moving about, the girls just walked back and forth, not really minding the small interruptions. It was funny, as they walked, silence taking them to their phones, it was clear that they were both texting people they couldn’t see. Sansa, with her mystery man (aka, Theon), and Arya, with Gendry. As Gendry sent her a suggestive message, Arya laughed. 

“So…” Sansa said, putting her phone in her pocket. 

“So, what?” Arya said, putting her own in her back pocket.

“Make up sex?” Sansa asked. 

Arya shrugged, “It was good.” 

Sansa stopped, making Arya looked back at her stunned sister. “Wow, just outright admitting it, huh?” Sansa faltered, blinking at Arya. 

“Why shouldn’t I? You asked, and he was very good,” she replied, watching as Jon came up behind Sansa, walking fast and his hand on the button his suit jacket. He was obviously late for a meeting with Robb, if Arya’s money was right. 

“Who was very good?” he asked as he walked past. 

“Your best friend,” Arya called out, to only have Sansa’s fist meet Arya’s ribs. 

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Jon said over his shoulder, continuing on like nothing had ever happened. Arya looked to Sansa, her face still stuck in the constant state of disbelief. Arya shrugged again. 

“I told him, he just didn’t listen.” 

To that, Sansa scoffed. “He’s going to kill you both when he realises.” 

“Sansa, it’s Jon. I could be getting married in front of the twat and he’d think it was a joke. Would take him five years to realise I wasn’t kidding, and still something in the back of his mind would think I was playing a prank on him,” she explained and Sansa gave an agreeing nod. 

“To be fair to him, you’ve made that man paranoid as fuck over the years,” she replied. 

“Good. Made him a good head of security for Robb. Protects the shit out of our brother,” Arya explained, and to that Sansa scoffed.

“I can’t tell if you actually thought about this, or have reasoned it along the way,” Sansa stated, looking Arya over, who only smiled a wicked grin in reply, “you’re a scary, scary woman.” 

“I feel like muffins. You want a muffin?” Arya played off, skipping down the hall and leaving Sansa to shake her head. 

“Don’t forget! Our dress fitting is at four!” she said, raising her voice and Arya raised a thumb in the air.

“I won’t forget.” 

“Pretty sure a guy with a square jaw and dark hair might make you forget,” Sansa called out, and Arya agreed, biting her lip and skipping down the hall, guiding her way towards the business quarters of the palace. 

In Arya’s mind, she had every intention of snatching up Gendry, taking him back to her room and having her way with him. She didn’t care if she had things to do that day, or that he may be required or a possible interruption occurred. She just wanted to have her boyfriend. A foreign concept for her - a significant other was always a rarity in her life. She’d had sex, sure. When she was on exchange, she’d have one night stands and flings with men and women all across Braavos. But boyfriends, or girlfriends, it was always a distant, or nonexistent possibility.

Then Gendry came. He was a possibility, then, a reality, and it still threw her at times. 

By the time she got to the security teams meeting room, they were dispersing, and Arya saw as each member of the security team clapped Gendry on the shoulder, whispering something to him. 

In her stomach, something twisted, that something was wrong but she couldn’t work out what. Part of her, an insecure part, told her it was something to do with Gendry and her, but that couldn’t be. Gendry was a private guy, he wouldn’t brag. Plus, he’d lose his job, not gain attention and congratulations. 

When he was finally left alone, Arya cautiously walked to him, and he perked, smiling to her as she came into his line of sight. She swallowed before she asked the question. 

“What was all that?” 

“They were just giving me a birthday bonus,” he explained, showing off an envelope before he put it into his breast pocket.

“Wait, it’s your birthday?” she asked, and he gave a bashful nod. “You’ve been with us for like a year and a half, how could I have missed this?” she said, and Gendry’s hands went to her waist, bringing her into him, her own arms curling around the small of his back as she pouted. 

“To be fair, when it was my birthday last year, you weren’t too happy with me being around, I didn’t expect you to remember anything about me,” he reminded, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

“But it’s your birthday and I didn’t get you anything!” she said, a worried crease wearing into her brow. Gendry chuckled, his nose brushing her own.

“I mean, this morning was definitely a present for me,” he smirked, and she punched at his chest.

“Fuck you, it was not.” 

“Arry, it’s fine!” he laughed, rubbing at where she punched.

“We’re supposed to be a couple, and I don’t even know my own boyfriend’s birthday. I’m so crap at this,” she cursed, her chin falling to her chest. In a breath, Gendry’s thumb and finger gripped her chin and made her look at him. His eyes were so blue, it made Arya’s heart jump into her throat.

“Arry, it’s fine. I don’t want anything. Being with you is enough for me,” he said, voice low and edging towards something that could make her reckless. The smirk at the corner of his lips confirmed that was what he wanted. 

“Ew, you’re so gross and needy,” she teased.

“I would like to remind you of how you reacted after we had -” 

Arya smacked her hand to his mouth and rose on her toes. “LA LA LA LA! I can’t hear you!” she laughed, and beneath her hand, she felt the breath of his own laughter coming through. It made everything so worthwhile, every time she was nervous or when her heart leapt from its place in her ribcage; the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, or the smiles and smirks that filled out his face - it was all enough to make everything feel easy. 

For the remainder of the day, they mostly stayed in her room. Although part of her wanted him to ruin every aspect of her room, taint every inch of furniture, Gendry reasoned that getting caught with a princess was something that could risk not only his firing, but kind of treason? To that, they mainly sat on her bed, talking about things that they didn’t know about each other, and watched some movies. 

As well as intermittently kissing each other.

During one boring movie, and the tension too much to bare, Arya climbed into Gendry’s lap, kissing him with all the need she had been holding in since that morning. It wasn’t her fault that she was as horny as anything. He forced it on her by waking her up like that. It was a surprise, and one that kept her wishing for it all day. 

Gendry’s hands were tight in her ass, fingers dangerously close to slipping past and playing with flesh that he was well accustomed to in the morning. Arya moaned into every touch, trying to see what would urge him on. With her hands on his neck, Arya pulled him flush against him, trying to see what would set him off and get the aggressive man that first took her to bed. Instead, her phone went off, making them pull apart briefly.

With a huff, Arya reached for her phone, Gendry moving up to kiss at Arya’s neck. God, why did his lips have to be so soft and inviting? It made concentrating on her texts impossible. She flicked to her message app and found the texts that had interrupted them.

3:02pm - Sansa: you better not be having sex with your guy when we’ve gotta leave

3:03pm - Sansa: get out of his lap, or i will come up there and tape you two 

3:03pm - Sansa: which will be more traumatizing to me than it is to you

“Oh shit, I have to go! I have to get to a dress fitting,” Arya said, pushing herself out of Gendry’s hold and his back met the mattress easily. Arya went through her closet, finding a pair of jeans and shirt that wasn’t ruined from fondling her boyfriend.

“Dress fitting?” Gendry said, and Arya heard the shifting of her bed frame. She stripped her shirt off and pulled her new one on as she collected boots at the foot of the door. There, she saw Gendry standing, trying to fix up his suit. 

“Robb’s wedding. We left the dresses to last minute when we were helping Talisa decide on hers. It was a big disaster at the time,” she explained, pushing a boot on and smacking it to the floor to get the perfect fit. 

“His wedding is in like two months,” he reminded, and Arya nodded in agreement.

“This is very last minute, Gendry.” 

“You need me to drop you off?” he asked, going to stand again, but Arya moved into his space, her second shoe barely on. 

“I’ll go with Sansa and Sandor,” she said, hands on his shoulders, and finally she was able to kick her boot on.

“That guy hates me,” Gendry sighed, and Arya chuckled. 

“He hates everyone that isn’t royal. And even then, the line is a little thin.” She gave a quick kiss to Gendry’s cheek and grabbed a jacket on her chest of drawers. “Bye, love you,” 

“Love you too,” he said a little bewildered, “be safe!” He called out and Arya raced down the stairs to see Sansa waiting by the car. Arya jumped in first, as Sansa unfolded her arms and climbed in after.

“What? I wasn’t allowed to catch you guys in the act?” she asked.

“You interrupted that, thank you very much,” Arya said, getting comfortable in her seat. 

“You guys are just horny.” 

“Can’t deny what’s true.” 

The sisters looked at each other and laughed. 

 *~*~*

 TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’ 

3:32pm - Bran: my spotify wrapped dragged me into an alley and beat the shit out of me

3:33pm - Sansa: Which artist got you through your depression?

3:34pm - Bran: Bon Iver

3:34pm - Arya: just the one song?

3:35pm - Bran: 127 hours

3:36pm - Arya: its like your own personal arm caught in between a large rock and a wall

3:36pm - Bran: maybe it was my legs instead

3:38pm - Bran: too soon again?

3:39pm - Theon: did i listen to 10 years of heartache whilst in a happy relationship? You bet

3:40pm - Robb: theon...read the room

3:40pm - Theon: sorry

3:40pm - Theon: thought it was relevant

3:41pm - Sansa: it is sweetie, you’re doing amazing 

 *~*~*

 “Nope,” Arya spat, folding her arms over the monstrosity that was the dress she was currently pinned in.

“It’s the bridesmaid dress, Arya, you have to wear it,” Sansa reminded. 

It was a purple and white mess, sticking out from her waist and going to her knees. It was a mix of tulle and ribbon, that that stars sewed into different sections of it. It was looked like something a child would wear. And it was their bridesmaid dress. Either Talisa had lost her mind or she just wanted to outright torture Arya. Either way, she was succeeding. 

“I won’t go,” Arya tightened her grip on her arms as she remained defiant. 

“You can’t not attend the future king’s wedding,” Sansa reasoned.

“Don’t care. Can’t make me wear this.” 

“But Arya,” Sansa tried to persuade right before her face broke out into a wide grin and she gripped into her knees. She wailed out a laugh, clutching at her stomach as she tried to keep it all in. “I’m sorry, I was trying to keep a straight face for so long!” Arya turned to her, hitching up the dress and kicking at Sansa’s side.

“You asshole!” 

“You were scared though,” Sansa laughed, moving away from Arya, most likely for fear of another attack that would have come if Sansa had stayed close. 

“It’s a nice dress, but what the fuck kinda person would let this slide for a royal wedding?” 

Talisa had come in at the exact moment, putting her bag down and opening her arms up to Sansa. “Oh, don’t worry little one, I would never pick something so awful for my wedding,” she said, embracing Sansa and moving onto Arya. They quickly hugged before Arya stood with her arms crossed again. 

“Where’s the real thing?” Arya huffed. 

“It’s gorgeous,” Sansa confirmed before Talisa ushered in the dress makers. 

“Okay, you two. Go get changed, we need sizes,” she said, and Arya and Sansa were hurried off. 

It wasn’t long after Arya and Sansa were midway through getting changed that they heard a commotion at the front door. Both sisters poked their heads out of their respective dressing rooms to see Ygritte in her workout clothes, gym bags falling to the ground as she rushed inside. 

“Sorry! Sorry!” she yelled, moving towards Talisa, “hey, Tal, practise ran late and I knew I couldn’t be all sweaty,” she said, kissing Talisa’s cheek and rushing back with the seamstresses.

“It’s okay, as long as we get all the measurements figured out, it shouldn’t be a worry,” she yelled as Ygritte went back to her room and waved to the sisters. 

As they were ready, they were called out front for Talisa to inspect the dresses. Arya stood beside Sansa, both of them silently judging the dresses. It wasn’t bad, it was a good judgment! It was an air force blue silk with sky blue undertones of fabric beneath it. It flowed and allowed an ethereal look to those that wore it. On both Stark girls, the colour suited their skin tone, and a bonus for Arya, was the fact that it was Arya’s favourite colour earned Talisa a lot of praise in her book. 

The only thing that Arya didn’t like was the neckline. The silk went into a v-neck, showing off tits for those that had any - a category that Arya wasn’t included in - yet the skin was on the chest was covered by a sheer lace embroidery of leaves and feathers. As Ygritte walked out, pushing down the silk, she grumbled, trying her hardest to adjust the lace front, just as annoyed with it as Arya. 

Talisa clicked her tongue, tilting her head and shaking it once she saw it on the three women that were set to be her bridesmaids. “I’m thinking of leaving the lace out, just have it a plunging v-neck? Thought?” 

“Please,” Ygritte whined, and Talisa giggled, noting it to her seamstress.

“You’re really juggling the whole Olympics, royal engagement thing,” Sansa commented, finally touching the lace front and grimacing as she laid a finger on it. Arya was sure that if Ygritte or Arya hadn’t said a word, she would have grinned and bared it - just to make her future sister in law happy. Arya wasn’t that kind to people’s feelings. 

“Seeing as how your brother-cousin still hasn’t proposed, it isn’t that bad,” Ygritte complained and and the Stark girls groaned. 

“He still hasn’t!? I’m going to kick his ass,” Arya sneered, readying to leave at any moment. 

“I think he’s thinking of stealing Robb’s thunder and doing it at the rehearsal dinner,” Ygritte

“He better,” Sansa mumbled under her breath. Everyone heard it, regardless if she were trying to hide it or not. 

“I don’t want to take away from you two,” Ygritte said as Talisa moved closer to the three. She felt the fabric before she looked up at Ygritte. 

“He’s been waiting too long as it is, so I’ll push him to,” she said, scrunching up her nose as she smiled. 

“Thanks,” Ygritte said back in a quieter voice. 

“And you all look so beautiful,” Talisa said, ending with a sigh, “I’m going to have the perfect wedding.” 

“Yes you are!” Sansa squeaked and brought everyone closer, making them all bind together in a hug that seemed to last an eternity. 

Arya wasn’t too upset if that was what eternity looked like. 

After the last measurements for length and fit were taken, the women all changed, getting back into their clothes and started to head out of the store. As they all gathered their things, Sansa gasped, gripping into Arya’s arm as if she came up with a devilish idea. 

Arya was immediately intrigued. 

“Oh, is Dany coming?” Sansa asked. The women turned to her, before going back to Talisa. Daenerys Targaryen was such a force of nature, so many kingdoms across the seven feared her. Not the Starks, however, as they had so many successful trades and peaceful meetings. When it came time for Dany to rule, she got on with everything and bonded with the kids far quicker than any of them thought on surface level. She even had Tyrion Lannister on her side, a talking point at most functions. 

Sansa and Dany were close, bonding over the years. As Arya was the rebel of the bunch, she’d only had a few conversations with Dany, but they went well. Arya loved her hounds more than anything. They were beasts that were bred to hunt bears, huge dogs that almost towered over her; they fit in well in the north, but Dany loved them and took them north as often as she could. 

“We got word from the Lannisters and the Targaryens, they’re coming,” Talisa confirmed before they all started walking out of the shop and going around to the cars down the street. It wasn’t far, but the journey gave them enough time to gossip slightly. 

“I wanted to see if Dany was bringing her new guy,” Sansa said, biting her lip and Arya pounced on her sister, grabbing hold of her arm tightly.

“Is it -” 

“Yep!” Sansa squeaked and Arya dropped her arm, covering her mouth as she stood, astonished at this new revelation.  

“Holy shit,” she exclaimed under her breath as she looked to Sansa for confirmation once more. 

“Who?” Ygritte asked. 

“Khal Drogo,” Sansa said

“Fucking Drogo!? The chief of the Dothraki?” Ygritte shouted before covering her mouth, realising her voice was much louder than she once thought. 

“Isn’t he the same guy that throws those wild parties and that your dad wants to drink under the table?” Talisa confirmed, and Arya nodded. 

“Oh dad’s definitely tried. But the Lannisters hate him because of his views of crime and punishment. Heaps of nations are wary of him. But he’s really kind and generous with his people and they mean a lot to him. He’s really big on his culture and educating the masses,” she explained as they all walked down the street. They had a few scattered security guards walking across the opposite street, their eyes on the royals and keeping them safe from a distance. 

Sansa bounded forward, taking the confirmation back to the start. “Dany’s had a crush on the guy for years after seeing the video of him at the school opening where they performed the dance to celebrate good fortune and prosperity. They met at a banquet when she went travelling to different nations.” 

“She’s so tiny!” Arya blurted the words that were pressing to the front of her mind. 

Talisa gasped, turning sharply to her. “Arya!” 

“What?! You seen that guy? He’s huge! He’d ruin her,” Arya said, and all of the women laughed.

Sansa leaned down to Arya, so only they two could hear. “You’d know something about that,” she whispered, and Arya jabbed a finger into Sansa’s side. Arya chewed on her lip as she held in a laugh that agreed with Sansa’s statement. 

They got to a car first, to have a few members of the security team come. Arya recognised Sam, who opened the door for Talisa. They all smiled as Talisa waved from the car door. 

“See you later, ladies!” she called out, only for Ygritte to be the car ahead. 

“I’ve got to go meet with some trainers, but I’ll see you two at dinner,” Ygritte said. 

“We’ll kick Jon for you,” Arya offered.

“Hey, that’s my job.” Ygritte smiled and waved the two of them off. As the cars departed, it was only Arya and Sansa left, and with their car at the end of the street, Arya walked past stores and shops that she had ignored the first time they had past. 

When one caught her eye, she yanked Sansa back. 

“Oh! Can we go in here for a sec?” 

“Why?” 

“It’s Gendry’s birthday,” Arya whispered, holding tight to Sansa’s arm. To this, her sister rolled her eyes. 

“Come on, hopeless.”

They walked inside, and Arya looked through the collection, pointing out a few pieces she enjoyed and ones she thought would suit Gendry the most. A lot were discredited by Sansa, only for the pair to agree on one - one that blew them both away. 

Whilst in the shop, Arya couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable, like she were being looked at in a greedy way. Her shoulders rolled awkwardly, and something in the pit of her stomach told her something was wrong. 

Before anything could come over it, they bought what they needed to, and left the store, heading back to the palace. 

By the time they were back, Arya forgot the interaction ever happened. 

 *~*~*

 When Arya left Gendry that afternoon, he wasn’t sure what else to do. He checked on security, ran tests and even spoke briefly with Robb. He was very impressed with Arya and how she was handling her new duties, even surprised that she was willingly participating with foundations and community possibilities. Gendry played off, making sure that word ran down the line that Arya worked hard because she cared deeply about her causes. 

In the rest of the time, any time he’d interact with someone new, they’d wish him happy birthday, and he’d have to end the conversations because his mum was calling for the fourth time that hour because she was crying about him getting old. 

As the family dinner came in, Gendry stood at the door waiting. The King was allowed back home  that day, and it was a great gesture of his strength when he was wheeled into the great hall. He gave Gendry a nod as he and the Queen made their way inside and took their seats. 

Soon that followed was Robb and Talisa, who were such deep conversation that they barely took a moment to glance up at him. He didn’t blame them, they were in the midst of organising the most intense day their country had seen in a very long time. Then, Jon was running to keep up with Ygritte who bound towards Gendry, asking him about the warhammer games that they both enjoyed. He didn’t get much into the conversation when Jon took them inside. Bran and Rickon came skidding in on Bran’s wheelchair, testing the traction on the wheels. It honestly surprised Gendry that they didn’t topple over with how hard they came rounding that corner, but they made it inside, cheering about their achievements. 

Sansa came next, so deep on her phone that she didn’t even notice Gendry and ran straight into him. “Oh, gods. I’m sorry!” she apologised. 

“No worries, your highness. Have a great meal,” he replied. 

“I’m sure you did this morning.” She winked before moving off like nothing had ever happened. He had doubts that Arya would tell Sansa about their intimate lives, but he had no doubts that she worked something out all on her own and really just worked things out on her own. He wasn’t sure how, but Sansa was scary good at that kinda thing. 

Then, came Arya who hurried over. He smiled wide as she ran towards him.

“How was the -” he started as Arya took his arm and ran with him in toes. “wow, where are we going?” he said as Arya guided them somewhere. 

“I want somewhere private,” she said, pushing open the doors to the front of the palace and having a moment off to the side. 

“Ah yes, outside is definitely private,” he scoffed. From behind Arya, she took out a small box, it wasn’t that wide, but its contents were unknown to him.

“Shut up, just open it,” she said, pushing the box into his hands. 

“What’s this?” he asked.

“A present.” 

“Arry, I told you -” Arya stopped his words by putting a finger to his lips and made him look at the present that was resting his hands. 

“I know what you told me, but I saw them and thought of you and your mum,” she said, and Gendry opened up the box, seeing a perfect pair of bronze stag cufflinks. Stag heads to be more exact. The bar. A lump formed at the back of his throat. 

“Wow,” he exclaimed. 

“Do you like them?” she asked, eager for a reply.

“Yeah,” he choked, holding a hand to his lips, “they’re proper mint.” He really wasn’t expecting anything, and this floored him. They must have been expensive, and they actually meant something to him. To both of them. 

“You’re so southern born, it’s ridiculous,” Arya giggled. 

“Hey, you’re dating me.” Gendry closed the box and put it in his breast pocket. 

“Yeah, I know,” she teased, dragging his collar down, planting a kiss on his lips. He shut his eyes, falling into her sway and loving every moment she lingered her lips to his own. 

Parting, he smoothed out her hair, and smiled down to her. 

“Go inside,” he said, forehead against hers, nose nudging nose. 

“Don’t be too long out here,” she warned. 

“I’m going on break, have a good dinner,” he said. 

Arya sighed. “I wish you could come.” 

“Someday, maybe,” he gave hope. 

“Love you,” she said, kissing him again. 

“Love you too,” he said, letting her move out of his hands. As she went through the doors, there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, that there was something he was missing that was a threat. He was missing something, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it all was. 

There was something off, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. 

Instead, he took out a pack of cigarettes and took one between his teeth. He swore to himself that he’d stop a long time ago, but with the twisting feeling in his stomach, he needed something to take the edge off. Anything. 

He sighed, letting it fall to the ground, squashing it under his shoe and moved back inside to take up whatever last minute job he needed to before heading home. 

Well, Arya’s room, then he’d be going home. 

#gendrya #gendrya fic #my fics #got fic #arya x gendry #gendry x arya #chivalry fell on its sword

[littlerockerao3]

Honestly I have so many requests for the prompt thing but the top one is 88

Thanks dear😘 here it is!

88. “After everything… I’d still choose you”.

Trigger warning: blood.

~ ~ ~

Theon has never wanted to unbuckle his seatbelt, open the door and get out of the car as the car is going, so bad until now: it’s not one of those nights were they don’t say a word, silent disappointment filling up the car, both of them staring ahead at the road. No. This is one of those nights were they yell at each other until they’ll come home and one of them will eventually lay on the couch and not get up from there until the morning comes. Though there’s no couch in their hotel room, just like there’s no button to roll down the window in this fucking Neolithic rental car, cause everything has to suck, especially when it’s supposed not to suck.

Things have been wrong for a while, Theon knows this. Theon knows so damn well he and Robb are just trying to postpone as much as they can what’s about to come anyway: he knows why none of them is brave enough to call it quits, five years is a lot. And he’s aware that the only reason why Robb won’t let go of him is because by now he’s used to have him around and picturing life without him would be weird, since it’s always been just the two of them, even before they got together. But Theon is fully convinced Robb deserves better than him.

They decided to go on this small trip, call it holiday if you like, on their own to see if a couple of days away from all the people they know could do them some good. To see if being stuck with each other for a while, in a place where they know no one, would make them realize if they still like being stuck with each other. But the thing is, it’s not working.

It’s not working cause the hotel they’re staying at looks like a place where the person living next door could be a serial killer and you could be their next victim. And you have to wait five minutes for the water to finally stop being brown when it’s flowing out the faucet and both Theon and Robb refuse to take a bath in there. It’s not working cause they haven’t washed since they arrived and they stink. It’s not working cause the car they rent is a piece of garbage they spent too much money on. It’s not working cause Robb has already bought a ticket to go back home and hasn’t bought one for Theon, instead. It’s not working cause Robb is still trying his best and Theon is still not doing anything.

“It’s not fair that all you do is drink and flirt with other people while I’m the only one trying to make things work between us!” Robb shouts. Theon snores: yeah, he drank a beer but that was all, and it’s not like he cheated on Robb right in front of him, he just winked at a few pretty people, that’s all. Though, he’s too tired to replay.

“It’s not fair that you treat me like shit, that you treat what we have like shit, especially when I try to convince you to let me in when you’re sad” Robb goes on, and on and on.

Theon rests his head on the windshield, “I don’t treat you like shit” he says, cause he knows he’s supposed to say something.

“Yes you do!” Robb yells, his eyes are staring at the road in front of him and his hands are holding onto the steering wheel so hard Theon fears he’s going to break it.

“First you tell me your feelings are none of my business, then you stay out all night, you don’t come back home until the morning and suddenly you bought us two tickets to go... here” he points at the dry, deserted road in front of them, reminding Theon how dumbly he acts when he’s drunk. To be fair, it wasn’t Theon’s idea to go on a small vacation, it was Patrek’s. But Patrek was just as drunk as Theon was that night.

“Then”, Robb goes on, “you keep pushing me out. You barely even touch me anymore, you don’t even want to hold hands”

“We’re not teens anymore Robb, holding hands is dumb” Theon sighs, but Robb just shakes his head.

“Claiming that showing affection towards each other is dumb is dumb. Listen, if you’d just let me in again, maybe we could-”

Theon cuts him off before he can finish because he’s seen this movie before, “What? We could what? Seriously Robb, you can’t always fix everything”.

“I know, but this is worth fixing!”

No it’s not. “Is it? Cause you said it yourself: you’re the only one trying. You’re the only one caring of what we have.”

Robb shakes his head once again. He’s so stubborn and Theon loves him so much. But it’s time to let him go.

“You do care about us, Theon. It’s been five years, you showed me sides of you that I-” sides that Theon himself didn’t even know he had. Robb is right but he can’t know this, he can’t know Theon is still in love and will always be. He can’t, cause if he doesn’t, then he’ll start looking for someone better than Theon, someone who might actually treat him right.

“You don’t know shit, okay?!” He yells, “Stop trying to depict me as this misunderstood redeemable asshole who deserves another chance. Trying to make me be a better person is not going to make you a better person”.

Robb’s eyes widen, his jaw clenches, his grip on the wheel tightens, and Theon knows he’s hurt him. And caught him by surprise.

“You seriously-Robb’s voice gets unbelievably loud at that “seriously”-think I’m doing this for myself?! That I’m still holding on to us, to you, because that would make me a better person?!”

Theon doesn’t answer, he doesn’t even know what to say. He just wishes Robb would leave him, cause he’s too much of a coward, and he loves this gorgeous red haired asshole too much, to do it himself.

“What is wrong with you? Do you seriously think so little of yourself?” There’s a crack on Robb’s voice, as he turns to face Theon for just a brief second, one tear sliding down his cheek.

“Do you really think the only reason why I care about you, why I’m working my ass off to make this work after five years, is because being kind is what good people are supposed to do?!”

Theon still doesn’t answer. He would like to cry too. But he won’t. Cause he’s too proud for that shit, he’s too much of a dick. He just let Robb keep on screaming.

“I care about you cause I am desperately in love with you, even after all these years. Because you are the best person I’ve ever had in my life. Because I’m fucking selfish and I don’t want the man I love to leave me!”

He’s sobbing now, Robb is sobbing. He rarely cries, when he does it’s because of Theon. It’s always because of Theon and that’s why Robb needs him to leave. But such words just don’t seem to want to come out Theon’s mouth.

“You don’t act like you care about us anymore. I know. Cause I know you and I know you think you’re not enough for me” Robb wipes a tear away from his face with the palm of his hand, “and yeah you’ve done some dumb shit over these years, especially lately. But I don’t care, I love you too much to care. Cause after all this time I can’t picture my life without you, with somebody other than you. I don’t want to. I don’t care what you think Theon, about yourself or us. Whatever happens, after everything... I’d still choose you.”

It’s in that moment that tears start dripping down Theon’s face as well, but he doesn’t notice it. All he can see are those flashing lights coming out of nowhere, then it’s all white and everything hurts as the car spins around. The sound of the crash is the loudest noise he’s ever heard, and he knows, he knows common sense would want him to use his arms and hands to cover himself but all he can do right now is extend his hand and try to grab Robb’s. He barely manages to touch his arm, to feel his tense skin against his fingertips, and there’s another crash.

Then it all stops.

Theon opens his eyes, then he wishes he never did. There’s blood all over Robb. He’s still breathing, but he’s bleeding. The windscreen is completely destroyed, splinters of glass scattered all around them, all around Robb. And Theon doesn’t realize how the fuck is it possible that Robb’s hurt and he’s not.

“Robb” he whispers, extending a hand to cup his face. There’s a deep cut on his forehead, it’s going to leave a scar that Robb’s going to hate and that Theon is going to kiss everyday, if things turn out to be just fine. Which he fear they might not.

“Robb, look at me” he pleads. He sees those gorgeous blue eyes slowly open and stare at him, his cut lower lip trembling.

“It’s going to be okay” Theon says, then rushes to grab his phone. It’s broken, but it’s still working. He holds Robb’s hand a little too tight as he’s calling the ambulance, but he doesn’t care: Robb hisses because of the pain and if you’re in pain it means you’re actually feeling something, right? He answers a few questions, he even lets go of Robb for a moment to see if there’s another car or person nearby that might be hurt as well. Then he hungs up and focus all his attention on Robb again.

“The ambulance is coming, baby” he says, “Talk to me, please”.

Robb makes an exhausted sound (why, why is he so hurt if Theon’s okay?), and his voice comes out raspy, “I love you”.

Theon shakes his head: no, this can’t be happening.

“Robb. Don’t talk like this, you’re not about to die. You’re twenty-four, for fuck’s sake” Theon cups his boyfriend’s face, kisses his nose, sobs a little.

“You can’t leave me, not like this” where the fuck is that ambulance?

Robb moves his head a little to gently brush his nose against Theon’s, “I love you and I’d always choose you, love. You’re the only one I want to be with”.

Theon fights a sob and presses his forehead onto Robb’s, “Then you better keep your eyes open and keep talking to me. Never thought I’d say this but I need you to be fucking stubborn and fight the urge to close your eyes”.

Robb laughs gently, then hisses in pain. “Maybe-”

“Maybe my ass, Robb. You’re not leaving me. I promise I’ll be a better man, a better friend, a better boyfriend, but you’re not leaving me. We’re staying together”, he kisses Robb’s cheeks, feels his lips touching the blood but tries not to mind it, cause he need to keep himself as close to Robb as possible.

When he hears the siren, he almost shouts in relief. He runs a hand through Robb’s hair and tries to smile at him, cause it’s almost over, soon he’s going to be okay. “I need you to stay strong just a few more minutes, okay baby? Just a few more minutes and then you’ll be okay.”

Robb’s hand rises slowly to cup Theon’s cheek, and Theon is quick enough to cover it with his palm. Please don’t leave me, I don’t want you to leave. I can’t imagine my life without you either.

“I love you” Robb says, so softly Theon can barely hear him, and presses a small, weak kiss on his lips.

Next thing Theon knows is that he’s in the hospital, Robb is nowhere to be seen and people keep asking him if he needs help. All that white around him is blinding and not comforting at all. He thinks that hospitals should be more colourful, to ease all the dramatic shit that happens in there. He thinks that if Robb doesn’t make it he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. How is he going to tell his family? How is he going to live without him? How could he care so little of his relationship with Robb? No, the truth is that he always cared, he always cared about Robb, but he’s never felt good enough for him. Now he doesn’t care if he’s n0t enough for him, he just wants to hold him, kiss him, hear his voice, go home with him, spend the rest of his life with him. If Robb doesn’t make it... Theon’s not going to make it either.

“Sir-”

He realizes he’s been curled in a ball on a chair, head between his knees, hands in his hair, only when the voice of the doctor causes him to jump back on his feet. He can only understand a couple words: lots of blood, concussion, glass, crash, lucky, alright, he’s alright, Robb’s alright.

His knees feel week and wobbly but the sudden relief is what keeps him standing: Robb’s alright. Robb’s alright.

“Can I see him?” He asks, though he’s already crying again. He lets the doctor guide him to the nearest room, open the door and let him in. Robb is staring at him: he’s all patched, he needs a shower and at least twelve hours of sleep but he’s smiling and he looks fine.

Theon runs a hand through his hair as he approaches him, “If you dared dying in front of me, I swear to God, Robb, I would have killed you”.

At the last “you” Theon’s voice cracks, as he plops down on the chair and starts sobbing, Robb’s hand gently caressing his hair.

“Shh, love”

“I’m so sorry”

“It’s okay”

Theon shakes his head, “It’s not. I only realized how much I want us to last only when I seriously could have lost you forever, I-”

“Theon” Robb says firmly. Theon raises his head, enough to look him in the eyes, those gorgeous baby blue eyes. “Shut the fuck up”.

He doesn’t know why that makes him laugh, but Robb is laughing too and that’s all he need to hear. He grabs his boyfriend’s arm with both his hands and start kissing those freckled, and now bruised, knuckles, whispering small “I love you”s.

“Say that to my face” Robb says, and Theon doesn’t need him to say it again: now he’s pressing small kisses on Robb’s lips, as gently as he can cause he’s scared he might hurt him, and the feeling of Robb’s hand touching him makes Theon feel safe, at home, with Robb where he belongs.

“I want to eat a huge breakfast tomorrow, I deserve it” says Robb, suddenly, causing Theon to stop kissing him.

“Of course, whatever you want” Theon replies, “Though we’ll have to look for a decent place, the food at the hotel fucking sucks”

Robb chuckles, wipes a tear away from Theon’s cheek and goes on talking, “Then I want to cuddle with you all day. Rent a movie, eat junk food. Call my mum and ask her how Grey Wind is doing... and maybe tell her I almost died, too.”

“We can do whatever you want, whenever you want. I’m not going anywhere” Theon grabs Robb’s hand, holds it tight.

Robb is still smiling and now so is he. Maybe he still thinks his personality is not enough for Robb, and that Robb deserves a better person. But nobody is ever going to love him as much as Theon does and that’s pretty much all Robb is asking. Which is good, cause they’re stuck with each other now. And always.

#I DIDN’T RE/PROOF READ THIS SORRY IF IT SUCKS LOL #throbb #theon x robb #for once in my life I wrote angst #I’m posting this on ao3 in a few too #lucisdemon #angst with a happy ending #I’m a sucker for happy endings #they already had their sad ending in canon we don’t need that in fiction too.

[moon-ruled-rising]

as the rain hides the stars

read the full story on Ao3...

iii. the land was godless and free

she moves with shameless wonder,

the perfect creature rarely seen.

Since some lie I brought the thunder,

when the land was godless and free

-Hozier, “Foreigner’s God”

The great castle of Winterfell was much older than the other keeps in the North but unlike its younger counterparts, there wasn’t a permanent settlement around it. Wintertown was exactly as it sounded, deserted in the summer and packed full in the winter. When it was empty like it was, the royal family came out to play and the only place open in summer was The Smoking Log.

The little dive was a favorite of the young royals. They went so often, their security personnel never followed them out. Most times it was just Robb, Jon, and Theon, but recently they started dragging Sansa along. She was only seventeen (seventeen and three-fourths, she would remind you) but the owner of the Smoking Log didn’t care. As long as they paid their tab.

Thinking about their family dynamic it was strange how close they were.

From day one, Robb and Jon were built-in-best friends. There was a brief tension when their father decided to legitimize Jon. All of it stopped when Robb realized he could do whatever he wanted and would have much less stress on his shoulders. 

At first, Sansa wanted nothing to do with Jon and joined in her mother’s bullying. When she started secondary school and it became clear she could never have normal friendships, she started hanging out with her brothers. They taught her how to fight and drive and beat every game they played. In return, she kept them in line when they went out.

And when Robb came back from Barrowton after university, he started bringing his girlfriend Talisa with them. She was good fun and held her liquor as well as the Starks.

Though, they were all going hard and Jon wasn’t feeling like himself. The music playing over the speakers was too loud and he couldn’t decide if the lights were too bright or too dim. He could handle beer, but his glass that night was filled with whiskey and he wasn’t keeping track of how much he’d had. On any given night he would, he had to keep himself under control, but Wintertown was deserted.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re tipsy, Snow,” she taunted.

Only Ygritte was allowed to call him Snow. As the legitimized bastard of King Eddard Stark of the North, she should’ve referred to him as “Your Royal Highness” but they’d known each other for so long, referring to him as anything other than Snow was foreign. 

Ygritte wasn’t an official member of their entourage but she was friends with them since they were young. Her father was the ambassador for the wildlings living in the Gift. When he left the position and moved back, Ygritte stayed and started working at the tavern.

“Someday you’ll have to stop calling me that,” he warned.

“Aye. When we’re both dead and in the ground.”

The fiery red-head was always giving him a hard time. It was a second job for her.

“I’m good for another glass,” he stated, setting his down.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.” she filled it. “And tell your brother to stop with the PDA, it’s grossing everyone out.”

Jon looked to the booth in the corner. Sure enough, Talisa and Robb were all over each other. It was drunk and sloppy and Jon felt the urge to vomit. 

“Would you like to join them?” Theon Greyjoy, always over confident and sleazy, asked.

Ygritte leaned forward, narrowing her eyes at him, “I thought I told you I didn’t like your kind.”

“Ironborn?” 

“Men,” Jon answered and took a sip of his whiskey. It wasn’t burning like it had at the beginning of the night. 

Ygritte reached over the bar to punch him in the shoulder and Jon spilled a little on himself. 

“Shut up, Snow. You know better than anyone I play both fields and I do it damn well.”

They both laughed like it was some great joke but Jon had to look away from her. Theon slipped away to terrorize some other single women.

Unfortunately for him, the only other single woman present was the owner and she was stern and middle aged.

The door to the bar opened and a group of men strode in. Ygritte groaned.

“Here they come.”

“Who?”

“Those three. They’re regulars and they love picking fights. Cops’ve been here every night to haul ‘em off.”

“I don’t remember them.”

“You haven’t been here in months, Snow. You’d better keep your head down, they know you’re an easy target.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve got a rep for your short temper. Not to mention you’re the crowned fucking prince of the North. They’d kill to be able to boast they punched the pretty boy prince. Better take my advice and stop drinking.”

Jon considered it but took another drink from his glass. Being young and angry at the world and having an intense weight on his shoulders made him a lash out in ugly ways. And even after his service on the Wall and learning to control his temper, the reputation still followed him. 

He surveyed the room again. There was supposed to be another red-head in attendance, but she was missing. 

“Where’s Sansa?”

Ygritte didn’t know either. Then he spotted her, walking past the gang of troublesome boys. His grip tightened around his glass and he could see the lecherous looks in their eyes. 

“Sansa can handle herself. Just relax.” Ygritte attempted to make him see sense but he was too far gone to heed her advice.

Without wasting another second he made his way to her. 

“Hey Princess, sit and stay a while,” one of them called out.

“No,” she deflected.

Sansa was loveable and fun and she never wanted to hurt anyone’s feelings. She could also be down-right mean when she needed to.

“Why not?” another questioned, his tone suggestive.

“Because I don’t want to.”

The men laughed, “That doesn’t sound like a very good excuse.”

“How’s this one? I don’t want to because you’re a bunch of sleazy creeps.”

“Only for you baby,” one of them winked.

She scoffed and walked away, but one of them got up and stopped her. It was clear she couldn’t control the situation anymore, so Jon stepped in.

“Everything alright Sansa?” Jon placed his hand on her shoulder.

She opened her mouth to respond but was cut off.

“Excuse you, we were having a conversation.”

“I think that’s over.”

“I think the lady should decide whether it’s over or not.”

“It never even started,” Sansa spit.

Jon put his arm out to stop her. They let out whistles, as if her aggression was a turn on. 

“Sansa, why don’t you go round up the others. I think it’s time to leave.”

“Jon, I-”

“Sansa,” he warned.

She sneered at the men around her but got out of the way. 

“Hold up, it’s the pretty boy prince they keep locked up in the castle,” the one standing in front of Jon noticed.

He was taller than Jon but that never scared him. Jon beat men twice his size while sparring with Sir Rodrik.

“Which one?” 

“The bastard,” the one in front of Jon leered down at him, “They put a crown on his head and thought we would be fooled.”

Jon shrugged their comments off. He was used to people putting him down for a decision that wasn’t his. When he was younger he broke himself trying to prove he was a true son of the North. He joined the military instead of going to university and served at the Wall protecting the ungrateful fucks in front of him. 

“Careful, you’ll hurt his feelings. Our dear prince is known for lashing out.”

Jon tried his best to control his anger. Nothing good ever came from the fights he started.

“Shame he’s so protective over his half-sister. We could’ve had some fun.”

There was no one there to stop Jon when his fist collided with man’s face. In the moment he forgot about the other two so he was shocked when a fist smashed into his face as well. Another in his gut and Jon was stumbling back into the table. 

The alcohol in his system wasn’t helping. It only made the spinning sensation in his head worse. The familiar metallic taste in his mouth was no more sobering than the punch that caused it. He saw Sansa coming back from across the bar with Robb draped over Talisa’s shoulder. Some help he was going to be.

One of the men got back in front of him. Jon prepared to throw another punch, but someone’s leg kicked out the attacker’s knees and gave him a solid kick across the face. Jon threw himself at the other man that was still standing, delivering an uppercut to his jaw and kneeing him in the groin. 

Ygritte came from behind the bar with a bag of ice and a clean rag,“I’ve already called the police so you’d better get the hell out of here.”

The Starks didn’t need to be told twice. Jon took the ice and rag while Sansa dragged Theon away from the bar and Talisa helped Robb to the car. 

“You should’ve let me handle it,” Sansa reprimanded.

“I’m sorry-”

“Those dumbasses are going to run their mouths-”

“I know.”

“And we’ll have a whole new wave of critics claiming you’re unfit for rule.”

“You won’t tell Catelyn, right?”

“I won’t,” she confirmed, “But I’m not helping you with dad, that’s your own battle.”

Jon almost forgot about the small council meeting the next morning. He would have prefered to miss it but his father expected him there. As the next leader of the North, he needed to experience them. But he arrived late and received too many disdainful looks.

He sat to the side of the room, never speaking and wishing he was invisible. If he remained still with his head down they wouldn’t notice his swollen eye. The lords of the great houses all sat along the table, sneaking looks at Jon. Roose Bolton, Duke of the Weeping Water and Lord of the Dreadfort, didn’t try to hide his distaste.

It was known the Boltons held an ancient grudge against the Starks. Ever since Jon’s ancestor Brandon Stark defeated them in battle and forced them to stop flaying their enemies. Jon was sure they never stopped the practice. It was rumored that Ramsey, Lord Bolton’s bastard son, had a taste for flaying small animals and Roose condoned the behavior.

“I think that’s all for today,” King Eddard stated, rising from his stately chair at the head of the table. 

He thanked the lords of attending and they bowed and left.

“You’re being awfully sullen, Jon.”

He arranged the papers in front of him. Jon ran a hand through his messy curls, exhaling loudly.

“Long night out?”

“You could call it that,” he grumbled.

“Do you mind telling me why you were late this morning?”

Jon stayed silent and tried to avoid eye contact.

Ned looked at his son and sighed, “Gods Jon, look at your eye. What happened?”

“I got into a fight,”

“Over what?”

Jon wanted to hold his tongue but Ned taught him to always be honest and do the right thing. And lying at that moment seemed like a bad idea.

“I was protecting Sansa,”

“You took Sansa drinking with you?”

“She’s almost eighteen.”

“Her age doesn’t matter, I know Sansa can handle herself. But you … this is the third fight this month. It’s a good thing Ygritte watches out for you otherwise we’d have an even bigger mess to clean up,”

“I’m sorry,”

“What goes on inside that head of yours?”

“It’s not easy being your bastard son who got lucky,”

“Sit down,” Ned commanded and Jon did as told, “When I chose to legitimize you it wasn’t because I thought you were lucky. It’s because I knew you were going to make a great leader.”

Jon huffed. Ned started the legitimization process when Jon was ten years old, there was no way he showed promise as a leader at ten.

“The North is heading towards a new age and she needs someone who will guide her through the confusion.”

His father’s words were idealistic. The North hadn’t changed in the past 100 years as far as tradition was concerned. Technologically, sure, but the people of the North were still set in their ways. 

“You don’t believe me now but you’ll understand,”

It sounded like Ned wanted to put a ‘soon’ at the end of the phrase but Jon didn’t question it. He wanted to get out of that room as soon as possible.

“Jon, your mother wouldn’t like the way you’ve been acting either.”

Ned rarely mentioned Jon’s mother. With all the information Jon knew about her one would think she never existed and he was born by some miracle. He didn’t even know her name and he didn’t think the castle staff would appreciate him running around, interrogating them for information on the King’s old flame. Especially Her Majesty, Catelyn. 

Catelyn despised Jon, though his only crime was being born. He supposed cheating her precious Robb out of the title he was meant to inherit could be added to his list of offenses. She should’ve blamed her husband for those actions but she took her aggression out on Jon. It was worse when he was younger. She would spit names at him as he passed by, exclude him from her children's lessons and sit him furthest away during dinners. As he got older and showed more responsibility and leadership, she relaxed. Mostly because Robb was still galavanting around Barrowton at university and Jon was serving time in the military. There was still the matter of her evil looks for no reason but some things couldn’t be changed.

“Why is it that you use my mother to condemn me but you’ll never speak about her otherwise?”

“Your mother … oh, you know I don’t like talking about her,” Ned remarked.

“I know,” Jon began, “but I would like to know more.”

Most people could at least form a picture in their minds when they thought of their mothers. The most Jon could do was a blank silhouette.

Ned smiled, “One day.”

He stood and began to leave the room. He paused in the doorway, “Oh, and Jon?”

“Yeah dad?”

“Next time you start a fight over a girl, don’t let her finish it for you.”

They had an emergency family meeting later that day. Robb was sure it was about the scuffle at the bar last night but Sansa disagreed. Part of Jon wished it was about that so he could know what to expect. 

They gathered in the library, the most private place in the whole keep. Sansa, Robb, and Jon all arrived together. Although they had close proximity with the Stark family, Talisa and Theon weren’t allowed to attend the family meetings. They were for blood related members of the family only, excluding Catelyn. As mother to the royal children it was her right to be there.

The library was ancient and still warmed by giant hearths. It provided a sense of weight and distinction. The place where the old Kings of Winter would consult the maesters in times of turmoil. Jon couldn’t help the feeling that a tumultuous time was upon them, why else meet in a place that carried such a reputation.

Sansa situated herself on the nearby chair, leaving Robb and Jon to stand beside it. Catelyn and Ned stood with their backs to the hearth which hosted a roaring fire. The North was never warm. It was still early summer so the snows were frequent and the temperatures were just above freezing everyday.

“Where’s Arya and Bran?” Catelyn asked.

The twins, as they were more commonly known, were always causing trouble. It was their nature. And now they both had driver’s licenses. Catelyn tried to regulate their time allowed outside of the keep but they never listened. 

Jon remembered what happened when he defied one of Catlyn’s rules when he was a teen. He was accused of being a bad influence on Robb and Theon, although it had been Theon and Robbs idea to go running off into the Wolfswood without a security escort. They paid the price in extra lessons on Northern history, complete with one of the longest essays Jon ever wrote.

Arya came through the door, running a hand through her short dark hair. Out of all the Stark children, Jon and the twins favored their father the most. Robb and Sansa got Catelyn’s Tully features. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Arya gushed, “Micha stopped us on the way in from the garage.”

Bran came bounding in after Arya. He was always slower than his sister but he kept up just fine. The two settled on the floor beside the chair. They made a pretty picture he was sure, all the King’s children posed for a regal portrait.

“It’s fine, Arya. But now that we’re all here we can get started. The King of the United Kingdoms of Westeros extended an invitation to their annual charity gala,” Ned stated.

“Why would they do that? We haven’t mingled with the south in a century,” Robb quipped.

“The cause they’ve decided to support this year is environmental conservation. Seeing as it’s a cause we support greatly, we’ve decided to attend.”

Sansa sat up straighter, he had her undivided attention. She was obsessed with southern culture and considered them much more interesting than the Northerners. 

“I will travel south with Jon, Robb, and Sansa. Catelyn will stay here with Arya and Bran. We should only be gone a week at most.”

There weren’t any complaints. Jon and Robb knew it was their duty to represent the North alongside their father. Sansa wanted to see the south, Arya and Bran couldn’t care less, and Catelyn knew she needed to stay and hold down the keep. She hated traveling anyway and Jon couldn’t blame her. Hours couped up in a car with minimal stops only to end up in a foreign land. He avoided it when he could.

“We leave tomorrow morning so I expect you packed tonight,” Ned addressed his eldest three then turned to his youngest, “And I expect you to behave while I’m gone.”

“It’s not like we’ve got the whole castle to ourselves, you’re leaving mom,” Bran pointed out.

Ned laughed and mussed his hair.

“And some expectations for behavior while we’re south. No fighting, no running away from your security officers, and as always, lots of smiling. We are their guests and we want to leave a good impression. Now go pack.”

“That wasn’t what I was expecting,” Sansa confessed as they descended the stairs.

“How are we supposed to entertain ourselves if we’re the only ones our age in the castle? The Prince and Princess are tweens.” Robb asked.

“There is the King’s sister but she lives in Essos for most of the year. I doubt she’ll come home for a charity gala. You know, I read the craziest thing about her this morning!”

#jonerys #ao3 #ao3 link #jon snow x daenerys targaryen #jonerysfic #jonerys fanfic #jonerys fanfiction

[schnoogles]

Curiouser and Curiouser written for the @jonsa-halloween event! Day 2: Drink Me/Colors Read on Ao3 

Theon began lining empty whisky tumblers, “how about everyone here try my newest concoction? I call it ‘The Kraken.’” He poured the brightest color of electric blue liquid in each glass and gestured for everyone to pick one up. Jon eyed it warily, “Where’d the name come from?” He lifted it to his mouth. Theon smiled as he watched everyone down it. “Eight legs, eight ingredients! Most of which are alcohol.” Robb immediately slapped Theon across the face after he drank his. Everyone else went into either a coughing fit or started gagging.

Theon had the best idea for a drink. Unfortunately, he wasn't anticipating Sansa being a lightweight.

“What up bitches! It’s time for SHOTS.” 

Everyone groaned. Arya was having way too much fun at this party.

“Gods, was I like this when I became legal drinking age?” Sansa looked at her little sister across the room, horrified at the bubbly young woman in a Cheshire cat costume. She’ll be first to admit though, Arya was absolutely adorable, even with what looked like a drink in each hand.

Jon snorted. “No, but you were like this when Robb took you to your first college party and Theon gave you an AMF.” 

“Not my finest hour.” Sansa grimaced at the memory. “On the plus side, that was my one and only time ever getting that wasted. Even now at legal drinking age I stay away from hard liquors. All thanks to Theon’s peer pressuring.”

“Hey!” Theon protested from behind the counter, “That drink gave you the fucking courage to kiss Jon! You should be thanking me!” Jon and Sansa shifted uncomfortably. Nearly four years later and still only one drunken kiss between them. Robb had seen what they were doing and put a stop to it. He didn’t care if they wanted to date but he didn’t want his best friend and little sister to do anything they’d regret. Unfortunately, they were both too embarrassed and didn’t bring it up the next day. Which led to both parties assuming the other did, in fact, regret it.

“How ‘bout we don’t humiliate Jon and Sansa tonight, Theon?” Robb walked up to the group, Arya in tow looking decidedly put out.

Theon laughed and pointed an empty shaker at her, “Why the pout, Cheshire?”

“Robb won’t let me have anymore shots.”

Everyone in the group snickered at her. Leave it to Responsible Robb to reign in his little sister. 

“Tell you what shorty,” Theon began lining empty whisky tumblers, “how about everyone here try my newest concoction? I call it ‘The Kraken.’” He poured the brightest color of electric blue liquid in each glass and gestured for everyone to pick one up.

Jon eyed it warily, “Where’d the name come from?” He lifted it to his mouth. 

Theon smiled as he watched everyone down it. “Eight legs, eight ingredients! Most of which are alcohol.” Robb immediately slapped Theon across the face after he drank his. Everyone else went into either a coughing fit or started gagging. 

“That,” he wagged a finger at Theon, “is absolutely disgusting.”

“Noted.” Theon shook his head, slightly disoriented from Robb’s slap.

Arya slammed her glass down in front of Theon. “Another!”

“No!” Everyone but Theon shouted. 

“Spoil sports, all of you.” Arya grumbled. 

The group of friends chatted some more, with Theon occasionally coming in and out of the conversation as he was making drinks for his guests. They were all having a good time. Talking, laughing, having some more drinks. No one thought they needed to stop until suddenly-

“Jesus Christ,” Sansa giggled, “Does everyone else see the pretty dancing colors?” Sansa looked around them in wonderment. She noticed a slight change in her vision earlier but thought she was imagining it. Now though, with another cocktail under her belt, she knew she definitely wasn’t imagining the pretty lights and bright swirling colors.

“Sansa?” Robb looked at his sister in disbelief. “Are you drunk already? Theon what the fuck was in that drink?”

Jon placed a steady hand on Sansa’s lower back. “Well, I think she had maybe one drink earlier, but I dunno what it was. Might not have been agreeable with Theon’s catastrophe-”

“It’s called Kraken, thank you very much.” He was affronted by Jon’s misnaming. “And how was I supposed to know that Queen of Hearts over here is a lightweight? She’s usually the DD!” He wasn’t wrong. Sansa always volunteered to stop drinking early at parties to make sure her older brother and his friends were safe. For good reason.

“First of all, Mad Hatter,” she scoffed at the name of Theon’s costume, “I’m the Red Queen! Pick up a book, learn the difference, get it right.” When drunk, apparently Sansa Stark became Sassy Snark. She hiccupped before gleefully announcing, “Second of all: I’m a one shot wonder babeyy!!” The boys tried to smother their laughter at the dancey redhead. Sansa wasn’t finished though. It was Theon’s idea to throw an Alice in Wonderland themed Halloween party so how dare he not know the different characters. During her long winded explanation of the various different queens in the story, Arya managed to sneak a drink from over the counter. She didn’t, however, manage to sneak it into her mouth.

“Freeze, Underfoot.” Robb gestured at the drink in her hand. “You’re cut off for the next hour. Pace yourself or you’ll end up like-” he stuck a thumb at Sansa, “-over there.” Arya looked over his shoulder and saw her older sister attempting to put braids in Jon’s curly hair. She snorted. “It’s water for you for the time being.” He went to grab two bottles from the fridge. One he gave Arya and the other he tossed to Jon. 

“Here we go Sansa,” Jon moved her hands off his hair and handed the water bottle to her, “I have some water for you.”

Sansa smacked his hand away. “The only thing you have is the audacity!”

Jon chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be! How dare you have such nice soft hair! It’s not fair! You don’t even do anything with it!” Sansa suddenly squealed with delight and reached behind Jon. “Thanks Theon!”

“Wh- Hey!” Theon stood flabbergasted as she swooped over and stole his drink from his hands.

“What?” she asked curiously, unaware that anything was wrong. Instead of waiting for a response, she took the shot.

Theon spluttered, “What do you mean ‘what?’ That wasn’t for you!”

Lies. Clearly the shot was meant for Sansa. “But it was practically begging for me to drink it!” 

That gave Jon an idea. He uncapped the bottle of water and lifted it in front of Sansa’s face. In an unnaturally high pitched voice, he said, “Drink me, Sansa, drink me!” while waving the water in front of her face. Perhaps he was a bit tipsy too.

“Oh! Well okay, sure!” Jon’s jaw dropped at how easily and happily she took the water and drank. He blinked several times before calling out to her brother. “Uh… Robb?”

“Sup?”

“We can’t leave Sansa alone all night.”

“Um, sure…? But why?”

“She is a far too agreeable drunk.” Jon replied, eyes still not off of the pretty lady in front of him who was dancing to the music, water still in hand.

Before Robb could open that can of worms, he saw in the corner of his eye his other little sister running off with what looked suspiciously like a bottle in her arms. “HEY! ARYA COME BACK HERE!”

At the sound of her brother screaming, Sansa looked over, then enthusiastically started waving at the back of her sister’s head. “Bye Arya! See you later!”

Robb groaned and started banging his head on the counter. Sansa looked at her brother with the utmost concern. That surely must hurt him! 

“Don’t worry man, she’s fine,” Theon chuckled. When Robb glared at him, he explained. “She’s newly 21, remember?”

“Yeah, and?”

“And she just ran off with a bottle of grenadine,” Theon snorted, “Something tells me the only thing she'll get is a sugar crash.”

Robb sagged his shoulders in relief. He really didn’t want to deal with another drunk little sister. Those two are going to be the death of him. At least he only has to worry about a sugar crash tonight coming from Arya tonight.

Suddenly though, it was like Sansa sobered up out of nowhere. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“What’s wrong San?” 

She pointed at something passed her brother. When the boys all turned, they immediately frowned. A pompous ass, thy name is Joffrey. Robb swore. This is what he gets for letting Theon be in charge of everything, including the guest list.

Jon turned to Theon. “Bro.”

Theon scratched his head. “Look I didn’t invite him. I’m guessing Renly did? He’s usually forced to take his nephew to outings.”

Robb scrunched his face. “And since when were you friends with Renly Baratheon?”

Sansa, still not taking her eyes off the blonde asshole, answered, “Since the only way Margaery Tyrell would accept Theon’s invitation was if she was allowed to bring her brother Loras. And where Loras goes, so does Renly.” Sansa looked away from her source of disdain and lifted a brow at a very sheepish looking Theon. “Girls talk.”

“Of fucking course this is about a girl.” Robb sighed and looked to Jon. “I’m gonna handle this. Do you mind?” He jerked his head at Sansa and Jon understood the underlying request. Take my sister away from here while I kick out her ex, who would most definitely make a scene. 

“Hey, Red Queen?” Jon grabbed her hands and started backing up, pulling her along.

Sansa perked up. “Yes Jon?” She let him guide her, Joffrey already forgotten. Jon stumbled just a bit. Something about that Yes Jon that excited him.

“Remember how you were curious about where Ghost is during the party?”

Sansa instantly smiled brightly. She loved Jon’s dog. “Yeah?”

And her smile must be contagious because Jon returned it tenfold. “You wanna go see him?”

Sansa gasped enthusiastically, “Oh my gods! Yes pleeeeease!” 

Jon coughed. Something in his chest grumbled approvingly at her words. “Perfect,” his voice came out a little rougher than he intended. “He’s upstairs in my room.” And suddenly he was no longer leading Sansa, she was leading him. Tugging Jon along, she ran through the crowd of partiers to make her way towards the stairs when suddenly she stopped. Jon, not expecting the abrupt interruption in their journey, collided into her.

“Oooof! Sorry, Sansa, you okay?” 

She didn’t even notice, too busy looking around the room. “Isn’t it so pretty?” 

Jon laughed quietly at how she was admiring some fancy color-changing LED lights and, in his opinion, a rather tacky disco ball. Sure, the luminescence of the atmosphere was pretty cool, but it didn’t compare to one admiring it. What was in that drink Theon? “It’s gorgeous. Come on pretty girl, Ghost is waiting.” At the mention of the dog, Sansa squealed and grabbed Jon again, dragging him along.

When they opened the door to his room, she rushed over and started giving Ghost all the love. He was the best boy that ever was and deserved so many pets.

Jon closed the door and with the loud music now a muffled noise, he could properly appreciate her company. And he couldn’t help but admire her affections for his dog. When he sat on the edge of his bed, she looked up at him. 

“Jon, are you uncomfortable when I’m around?” That caught him off guard.

“What? No, not at all. Where is this coming from?”

Sansa bit her lip. “Well, I can’t help but remember the last time Theon plied me with alcohol.”

Jon turned his attention to Ghost instead and swallowed. “And?”

“And you sort of ignored me for a week. Sometimes I think we’re okay, but then you pull back again. And I’m not stupid. It always happens when I try flirting with you.”

Jon did a double take. “I’m sorry, you flirt with me?”

Sansa grimaced. “Oh god, was I not? Dammit Arya was right.” She started mumbling to herself as Jon watched, shocked at this new information. “Am I really just too nice to everyone? Is that why my flirting game is so off? My god is that why Arya thought I was flirting with the mailman when I told him it was so good to see him? Fucking hell.”

At the mention of Sansa flirting with someone who was not him, he snapped back to attention. “Wait wait wait. Sansa, you like me? Like… like me, like me?” Jon, channeling his inner Cheshire, slowly began to grin very, very widely.

“Aw you’re making fun, I don’t want to look at you anymore.” She turned her back to him, sticking her face in Ghost’s soft fur. Jon laughed at the woman with her face buried in his dog’s fur. But oh no, Jon couldn’t let that happen, no sir. He slid off the bed and joined her on the floor with Ghost. Gently pulling her and making her face him, Jon stared into those vibrant blue eyes of hers. They were as blue as Theon’s drink. At the memory of Theon’s drink, which had delightfully led to this conversation, Jon chuckled.

“Sansa, I’m going to need you to remember this conversation tomorrow morning, alright?”

“Of course I’ll remember!” She squinted her eyes at Jon. “Why do I need to remember?”

“Because I like you too and you’re drunk.” 

“Oh!” Sansa nodded. Jon made perfect sense. She is drunk and he does like her. With that confirmation, she went back to petting Ghost. And Jon went back to watching her fondly. 

Eventually, she drifted off to sleep, trapping Ghost in her arms. Jon’s eyes darted back and forth from her to his bed, debating. Nope, Jon had some decency left in him. He lifted her up and took her to Robb’s room. His friend can sleep on the couch for a night.

As he was tucking her in, Sansa grabbed at his arms. “Hey Jon?”

“Yeah?”

“Did I ever tell you? When I was dating Joffrey back in high school, it always felt like the light was drained out of me. It was kinda awful.” Jon furrowed his brows. He knew Joffrey Baratheon was an ass, but never knew to what extent. Before he could say anything though, Sansa continued. “But when I got to really know you and when we kissed a few years ago, it was like everything got inexplicably brighter. My life suddenly went from black and white to technicolor and I've never wanted to look back.”

Jon couldn’t stop smiling. “Alright pretty girl, it’s time for bed.”

She smiled mischievously at him. “You could always join me.”

Suddenly they heard a gagging noise coming from the inside room with them. Arya popped up from the floor on the other side of the bed. She pointed a bottle at them and glared. “I swear to all that is holy and good, if you join her Jon, I will vomit. And I’m not even drunk!”

Jon laughed as he backed up towards the door. “No worries, Underfoot, I’m going.” With one final wave at a giggling Sansa, he went out and closed the door behind him. Jon prayed to the gods that Sansa would remember tomorrow morning. 

Tomorrow Morning

Sansa opened the door and peeked through to see a snoring Jon. She went in and shut the door behind her. After some light contemplation, she thought ah fuck it and launched herself on his unsuspecting body. 

“Oh my god!”

“Good morning Jon!” she said sweetly to him. 

“Hi?” Bleary eyed Jon was not a morning person.

“Hey Jon. I remember.” 

His eyes snapped open. Suddenly Jon, and all parts of Jon really, became a morning person. 

Arya heard giggling come from Jon’s room while coming back from the bathroom and scoffed. “Filthy animals.”

#actuallyjonsa #jonsa fic #jonsaff #jonsa halloween #jonsa #jonsaaaaaa #my writing #excuse the silly edit lmao

[merakiaes]

Tell Me You Love Me - Jon Snow

Pairing: Jon Snow x Baratheon!reader, Robb Stark x Baratheon!reader Requested: By @witch-of-letters, who has been really patient and understanding with me having writer’s block and being really slow. Shoutout to you

Prompts: None

Warnings/notes: Swearing, mentions of rape, violence, death, some changes in the timeline, really rushed because like I said I had the world’s biggest writer’s block, and I also have a migraine so I really didn’t have the energy to look through it and edit it. I really hope it’s readable, anyways.

Wordcount: 6457

Description: A bit of triangle drama between Jon, Robb and reader! I changed up the request a tiny bit so that it would fit the show better, hope that’s alright!

“I wonder if she’s gotten married, yet.” Theon voiced as he got his beard shaved off, thinking back to the last time he had seen you. 

“No.” Robb answered. “Father would have told us if she did.” 

“Yes, you’re probably right. King Robert would never marry her off to a stranger in the first place.” Theon agreed. 

Robb turned to look at his half-brother, eyebrows raised. “You’ve been awfully quiet since the news of the King’s visit got out.”

Theon laughed. “And that was a week ago.”

Jon glared at them. “I’m not quiet.”

“You’ve spoken about ten words since last week.” Robb snickered. “Something on your mind?”

“More like someone.” Theon joined in on the teasing. “A certain princess, maybe?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jon kept his glare as he spoke. 

Theon snorted. “Yeah, right. (Y/N) is the only girl you’ve ever met that you like better than your own hair.” 

Jon hardened his glare. “I don’t like her.”

Robb laughed. “Don’t let her hear you say that, she’ll be heartbroken.” 

Jon turned to him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It means want to fuck you, you virgin.” Theon said with a smirk, causing Robb to crack up. 

“I’m not a virgin.” Jon scoffed. “I’ve been with women.”

Robb and Theon exchanged a look. “Oh yeah? Who?”

“I-” Jon cut himself short, not having an answer to the question considering he was, in fact, lying. As he opened his mouth to speak again, he once again cut himself short as a man came at his head with a pair of scissors, causing him to flinch. 

This caused Theon and Robb to break into a full laughing fit, leaving the bastard hot up to his ears. 

“What did I say?” Theon laughed. “You flinch when someone touches your hair, and you can’t answer our question. You make it so easy to prove a point.” 

The three of them went into a full argument after that, having to be interrupted by Ned several minutes later because they were going to be late. 

But the whole time up until the point of your arrival, Jon couldn’t stop thinking about you. 

The North was cold, very cold. 

Now, the cold itself wouldn’t have bothered you if you had clothing better fit for this kind of weather, but unfortunately you were for the time benig stuck in your warmest clothes from the South, which weren’t very warm at all. 

You rode between your father and uncle, as you had been for the whole journey, and you were happy to say that said journey would soon be over, and you could finally reunite with your boys. 

When Jon Arryn had, under “mysterious” circumstances, died, you had been heartbroken, having seen that man as a second father. However, when your father had told you the news about you going north, you had been absolutely ecstatic. 

Not only would you get to see Ned, whom also was like a second father to you, but you would get to see your childhood friends, Theon, Robb and Jon. Although you had to admit you were slightly more excited about the last. 

You had been in love with Jon Snow for as long as you could remember, but being in love with a bastard who thought lower of himself than any other person in the Seven Kingdoms, was no walk on roses. 

Seeing as he didn’t think he deserved anything but the shit he was forced to take from Catelyn Stark on a daily basis, he always saw past any attempt of flirting you had made. 

It had started to go on your nerves eventually, and honestly left you very heartbroken, but you still couldn’t find it in you to stop. You had never been forced to worry about being married to a stranger. Your father’s love for you stopped that from ever happening. He wanted you to marry for love, and he wouldn’t care in the slightest if that love turned out to be a bastard. 

But Jon didn’t see it that way, you knew. 

You were the only trueborn child of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister. It shouldn’t take a genius to figure out the fact that the rest of the King’s supposed children were, in fact, not his, but as it appeared every single person in the Seven Kingdoms were completely brainless. 

But even though you supposed you should be disturbed by your mother and uncle’s incestuous relationship, you couldn’t be bothered. Not because you loved your mother, though, but because you loved your uncle. 

Your mother was a stone-cold, psychopathic bitch. Always had been. The fact that you were not Jaime’s child had bothered her from the moment you were born, the disappointment had been as clear as day in her face once she noticed the hair on your head being pitch black. 

The lack of love your mother held for you was no surprise to you, so Jaime had told you the story of your birth himself, knowing it wouldn’t do anything else than give you the truth. 

Despite the fact that your mother and yourself had a strained relationship, you had gotten her traits of being cunning and smart. Jaime knew this, and therefor knew you wouldn’t stir chaos up without a very good reason, which in turn is why he knew he didn’t have to sugarcoat reality to you. 

The rest of your personality you had gotten from your father, though. Your father was determined, stubborn, blunt and charismatic, or well, the latter he had been, anyways. 

And you were all those things, only ten more times than him. And it was something your mother couldn’t stand being around. 

But your uncle Jaime was different. He had done many horrible things in his life, yes. But his heart was in the right place. Everything he did, he did to protect Cersei and their cubs. And you knew he would realize sooner than later that Cersei wasn’t worth it. 

Tyrion you got along with as well, of course, given the fact that he always seemed to be drawn to outcasts, and also that the two of you shared a love for books and wit. 

Given that you were your father’s daughter, the two of you were close, as well. But you could still agree that he was a very immature man. Had he not spent majority of his spare time fucking whores and getting drunk, you could have been even closer. 

But you had grown up now, and no longer craved as much attention from your King father as you once had. You did just fine on your own, as long as you had your bow or one of your uncles to keep you company. 

You did love your siblings, of course. But considering the relationship you had with your mother, you didn’t really get to spend real time with them, much to Myrcella and Tommen’s dismay. 

Joffrey, though, rather found pleasure in joining his mother in tormenting you. No surprise there. 

“Seven Hells, I had forgotten how bloody cold it was up here.” Your father bellowed from beside you. 

You rolled your eyes, tightening your grip on the reigns. “I told you that you should have put on the  fox fur.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Your father grumbled, before sighing and reaching over to squeeze your hand. “I ought to listen to my daughter more often, don’t I?” 

“Finally something we agree on.” Your uncle spoke up at that, giving your father a teasing smile, but his eyes still hinted annoyance. 

Your father ignored him, opening his mouth to say something but as it seemed he changed his mind as Winterfell came into sight. “Finally! One more hour in this saddle and I would’ve lost feeling in my arse!”

You snorted. “I’m surprised you haven’t yet.” 

Your father turned to look at you. “Watch that mouth of yours.” 

But as you could see the teasing glint in his eye, you only scoffed, proceeding to straighten yourself up in your saddle as you would soon be entering the gates. 

Jaime fell behind slightly to take his assigned spot in line, while you stayed at the front beside your father, and in only a few minutes time, you found yourself riding through the gates to your second home.

As you spotted the small crowd waiting for you inside the walls, your eyes instantly went to Robb, Jon and Theon, your face lighting up almost instantly at  the sight of them. 

They had certainly grown up since you last saw them, that much you were sure of. 

But Jon had grown up the best. His black locks were still as gorgeous as ever, his eyes still as dark and soft. You weren’t a girl who used cliches, but even you couldn’t deny the butterflies filling you stomach at the sight of the bastard. 

Jon, who had been looking at the ground by order of Lady Catelyn to show respect, felt your heavy gaze and looked up to be faced with your bright smile.

Upon seeing you, Jon felt himself get warm. Not until then did he realize how much he had truly missed you. 

Theon let out a small whistle as they watched you climb down from your horse, giving you a once over as you walked to your father’s side as he greeted Ned. “(Y/N) grew up quite nicely, don’t you think, Snow?” 

Although Jon couldn’t disagree, he shot his friend a look. “She was already grown up when we saw her last. She’s three years older than us.”

Theon wiggled his eyebrows. “An older woman who wants to fuck you.”

Jon turned to look at him, a glare on his face. “She does not want to fuck m-”

“Can you two shut up?” Robb suddenly turned around and whisper-yelled, just as you reached him. 

Robb turned back instantly, taking your hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. “Princess, you look as gorgeous as always.” He said, putting on a smile as if trying to hide the conversation that had moments before been going on behind him. 

You only snickered. “We’ve known each other since we were all mere children, come here.” And with that you pulled him down by his neck in an embrace.

You felt him chuckle unto your neck, but your happy little reunion was cut short when your brother scoffed behind you. “(Y/N)” He started, a scowl evident on his face. “That is in no way how a princess should act.”

Your father had gone off with Ned at this point, and your mother and siblings were Gods knew where, leaving only you, Robb, Jon, Theon, Joffrey and Sandor Clegane in the courtyard. 

You rolled your eyes at the sound of your whiny brother’s voice, releasing Robb from your grasp, the latter clearing his throat as he glanced at the Hound. 

Turning around, you stared your brother down. “Unlike you, Joffrey, the Starks are my family and I won’t treat them like they are below me, I’ll leave that bitchy behavior to my dear little brother. You do it best, after all, isn’t that right?”

Joffrey gasped dramatically, hitting his guard dog’s on his arm as if to tell him to go after you. “Did you hear how she just spoke to me? Do something!” 

You rolled your eyes, something you seemed to be doing all the time when in the presence of your family. “You do know he’s not only serving you, but the rest of your family as well?” 

Joffrey narrowed hie eyes. “He’s MY dog, and he shall do as I command.” He said in a whiny voice, turning to look at the Hound at the last part. 

You took a few steps closer to your brother. “Are you ever going to get it into your tiny little brain that he’s not an actual  dog? Even dogs are only loyal to their masters until they feel threatened, maybe you should start watching your mouth a little before this one starts to feel that way.” 

Cue another dramatic gasp. “I’m telling mother!”

You chuckled. “You go do that, Joff. I’ll just tell father you tried sending the Hound on his beloved daughter.” With that you turned to look at the much larger man beside your brother. “Sandor.”

“Princess.” Sandor acknowledged, face straight, although you could see in his eyes he was just as satisfied with Joffrey’s reaction as yourself. 

You gave a curt nod, before starting to walk off, the three northerner boys wasting no time in following. 

Once far enough away to be able to have a conversation without your brother’s snooping ears, you wasted no time in jumping at the three boys.

The boys each let out a quiet “hmpf” at the force of you taking them all into your arms at the same time in a rather messy group hug. 

“Eager are we?” Theon chuckled as he let his hand rest on the small of your back. He made attempt to move it further down, but you instantly slapped it away. 

“I see you, Greyjoy, don’t try me.” You threatened playfully, earning a chuckle in return. 

“Robb, last time I saw you you were just as tall as me.” You snickered at the memory as you turned to look at the Stark boy. Probably to everyone’s surprise, he had been a slow grower. 

Robb laughed as you brought him into another hug, this time without Joffrey there to interrupt. 

Finally, you turned to Jon. 

He had put himself slightly behind the other two boys to not interrupt. His hands were clasped behind his back, and his eyes were softly staring into yours. 

As if your smile wasn’t already big enough, it got even bigger at the sight of the curly haired boy, and you wasted no time in jumping in his arms. 

Jon closed his eyes and sighed in contentment as the sweet scent of your hair filled his nostrils and took over his senses, letting his arms go around your waist to hug you back. 

“I can’t even begin to explain how much I’ve missed you.” You told the boys while still in Jon’s arms, but you all knew you were in truth talking to Jon and Jon only. 

Well, everyone except the boy himself, being as oblivious as he was. 

“What.” Theon spoke, the teasing tone evident in his voice. “You don’t enjoy spending quality time with your baby brother?”

The boys all snickered as you finally let go of Jon, much to his dismay, turning to look at Robb and Theon with a roll of your eyes. “Any more quality time, and I might just have thrown myself from a window.” 

“What about the Hound?” Robb questioned, wiggling his eyebrows. “You looked to be pretty cozy with the Hound.” 

“Sandor may be a man of few words, but he’s an actual sweetheart.” You responded, snickering. “Don’t let him know I said that, though. He’ll never speak to me again.”

Theon shuddered. “I don’t know how anyone could handle being in his presence all day long without shitting their pants, much less talk to him.”

You raised an eyebrow, eyes moving to look at his lower half. “Are you telling me you shit your pants just now, then?”

Theon glared. “No, not me. I don’t shit my pants for anything, or anyone.” He paused. “But IF I did, it would be because of him.”

“So you did shit your pants.” You repeated, smirking. 

Theon started protesting, but as Jon and Robb had had enough of your bickering, Robb cleared his throat. “We have something to show you, (Y/N), don’t we lads?” He turned to his brothers with a wolfish grin. 

“Oh!” Theon realized. “Yes, Robb and Snow got d-”

Jon slapped him upside the head. “You’re ruining it.” 

Theon rubbed his head, swinging for Jon, however missing when the latter ducked out of the way with a laugh. 

“Fine, fine.” Theon said finally, pulling out a cloth from his pocket. “You’ll have to put this on.” He said, holding it up like a blindfold.

You squinted your eyes at this, becoming slightly suspicious. “Why exactly?”

“Because it’s a surprise.” Robb laughed as he came to stand at your side, now having grabbed the cloth from Theon’s hand to put it over your eyes. 

“If this is your way of inviting me to a foursome, I’m very afraid I must decline.” You said in a mock-serious voice, causing them all to laugh. 

“As if I’d let you anywhere near Theon’s bed.” Jon said, grabbing onto one of your arms as you were blinded by the fabric in front of your eyes. 

Theon snickered, and you could just imagine the smirk he must have been sporting. “No, you’d want her all to yourself, wouldn’t you Snow?” 

You snickered as Jon hissed a ‘shut up!’, and suddenly you started moving, Jon pulling at you gently. 

Your heart started beating harder in your chest as you felt around with your feet carefully to not fall. Jon seemed to pick up on this, chuckling. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to let you fall.”

Laughing nervously, your hand came to rest on top of his that were holding your arm for support. “I trust you, Jon. It’s your brothers I don’t trust.”

Awaiting some kind of sarcastic response from either Robb or Theon, you were surprised to hear nothing but Jon’s chuckle from beside you, to which you furrowed your eyebrows in thought. 

“Did they go ahead?” You though out loud, using the hand that weren’t holding on to Jon to feel the air in front of you. You trusted Jon not to let you fall, but now that Robb and Theon had seemingly run off, it was your own feet you didn’t trust. 

“Yes.” He responded. “They had to go see so that the surprise hadn’t completely ruined my chambers.” He laughed, causing you to furrow your eyebrows even further. 

What kind of surprise would destroy furniture?

“We’re coming up the stairs now.” Jon said, assisting you in getting your foot on the first step. “No peeking.”

You snorted. “Unlike Theon, I’m not a peeker.” You joked, thinking back to the time you had found the boy in question peeking into the whorehouse when he was thirteen. 

“It’s a good thing he’s old enough to actually go in there now instead of peeking through the windows like a mad man.” Jon laughed, causing you to follow. 

“Is it, though?” 

“Maybe not.” He agreed, causing you to smile. 

As you reached the last step of the stairs, you let your hand trail against the wall as you kept walking. “How far are we going? I’m not liking this whole blind thing.”

As soon as you said that, the sound of Robb and Theon’s voices entered your eardrums, giving you the sign that you had finally reached your final destination. 

“No more.” Jon said, confirming your thoughts. “Watch out.” He spoke quietly as the voices got closer, helping you through the doorway of his chambers where Theon and Robb had suddenly grown quiet. 

“Are you ready?” You heard Robb ask from somewhere across the room. 

You nodded, eyebrows furrowed as you thought about what the surprise could be. “Get on with it.”

Jon snickered from behind you as he undid the blindfold, amused at your impatience. You were truly your father’s daughter. 

As the fabric was removed from your eyes, it took a few second  to adjust to the light as you had been in the dark for several minutes, but once they had adjusted, you let out a high squeal at the sight in front of you. 

On the bed in front of you were two small direwolf pups, lying next to each other, seemingly taking a nap, something you couldn’t care less of in this moment as you launched yourself forward to jump on the bed. 

“Puppies!” You let out in a high pitched voice, causing the direwolves to jump awake in fright. 

Although, to the boys’ surprise, they calmed down just as quickly and instantly started licking your face wet with kisses, whereas they would have growled and barked had it been Theon in your position. 

“Why do they like her more?” Theon spoke, watching sourly as you fell down into the bed. 

“You smell.” Jon commented as he came to stand at his side to watch the scene unfold with them. 

Theon turned to look at him with a glare. “We just washed ourselves, together. If I smell, you smell.”

You laughed. “You make it sound like you washed each other, Greyjoy.” 

He turned to look at you, dropping his glare and putting on a smirk. “Jonny boy is saving himself for y-”

Jon slapped him on the arm, glaring. Robb just stood by laughing at his brothers as he kept watching you, arms crossed. 

“Where did you find them?” You gushed finally as they left the bed to take Jon and Robb’s sides, wasting no time in following the white one to Jon and getting down cross-legged on the floor to take him into your lap.

“We found her mother in the woods.” Robb started. 

“Killed by a stag’s antler, tough old beast.” Theon continued. 

You looked at the direwolf in your knee sadly. “What are their names?”

“That’s Grey Wind.” Jon pointed to the pup at Robb’s feet, before looking down at the white one in your arms. “And that’s Ghost. He’s mine.”

“The runt of the litter.” Theon snickered. 

“Arya, Sansa, Bran and Rickon each has one as well.” Robb told you. “Nymeria, Lady, Shaggydog, and Bran hasn’t named his yet.” 

You smiled brightly, talking sweet nothings as you scratched Ghost behind his ear. 

Jon chuckled at the sight. “You might want to stop sweeting him up, he won’t know how to protect himself when the time comes.” 

You pouted. “Fine.” You stood up. 

The window of the room whistled loudly as a breeze blew past. Looking outside, you noticed it now having gone dark. 

You turned back to the boys. “Which one of you are going to escort me to the feast?” You smirked. “Your princess is starting to feel rather starved after traveling for so long.”

Theon hurried to step forward, holding out his arm. “My lady.” He bowed deeply, coming back up with a grin on his face. 

You laughed, curtsying before hooking your arm with his. “My lord.” 

And with that, he led you off to the feast. Jon furrowed his eyebrows at seeing you laugh with Theon, Robb giving him a knowing, teasing look, earning a glare in response, as they walked after you.  

You had feasts in the Capital all the time, but this was as much fun as you’d have in a long time, finally having enjoyable company. 

“Look at your daughter.” Cersei scoffed at the head table, scowling bitterly. “Acting like a man, throwing herself around at all those boys. Disgrace.” 

“Shut your mouth, woman!” Robert bellowed, stopping in his tracks of groping one of the servant girls, at his wife’s words. He turned to look at her. “She can do as she pleases. You worry about raising that little brat.” 

She clenched her fists as she looked at him, turning back to look at you dancing around with Robb and Theon, Jon long ago having left at the request of Catelyn. 

Cersei then turned to look at her brother, only to find him watching you play around with a grin, amusement clear in his eyes. 

She scoffed again. “Tell me again why we’re marrying her off to the Stark boy.” She asked no one in particular as she had Robert’s attention. “We could marry her off to someone much more valuable for the crown.”

“Do you think I care about the crown?” Robert boomed. “I’m not marrying her off to someone who will fuck her and have her birth children all life. Robb is the only one I would even consider as a husband.”

“If I may, Your Grace.” Ned spoke up for the first time, inviting himself into the conversation. “Robb thinks very highly of (Y/N), he would never attempt to stop her from practicing her interests.”

“Yes.” She muttered, leaning back into her seat. “That’s what I’m afraid of. She needs to learn how to act like a lady.”

“Fuck acting like a lady!” Robert once more shouted at his wife. “The betrothal between her and Robb is final!” And with that, he walked off with the servant, leaving Cersei to fume in her lonesome. 

You had been dancing with Robb and Theon all night, until Robb had been forced to take Arya to bed. Only moments later, Theon had kissed you good night and left with a girl not much older than Sansa. 

You had rolled your eyes at this, but not bothered to tell him off. Far to tired after the nights festivities. 

Not wanting to be alone, you ventured outside to search for Jon, finding him out by the sparring grounds having a conversation with Tyrion. 

“Uncle.” You greeted as you approached them, causing them both to turn your way. 

“Ah, my sweet (Y/N), are you having fun?” Tyrion smiled up at you. 

You smiled so. “Very much so, but now I’m afraid my company has betrayed me, and I’m in need of a new companion to entertain me for the rest of the evening.”

“I see.” Tyrion said. “I will leave you two to it, then. I will see you at breakfast tomorrow morning.” 

You nodded at him, offering a smile, before he walked off into the castle, leaving you alone with Jon. 

The two of you watched each other quietly for a moment, before you moved to sit down against a wall, pushing your cloak under your bottom so that you wouldn’t get cold. 

You patted the space beside you, Jon coming to sit down only moments later. 

“Why did you leave?” You asked as you pulled out a flagon of whine that you had managed to snatch from inside the hall from underneath your cloak, popping open the lid and taking a drink. 

“Lady Stark didn’t wish for me to be in the King and Queen’s presence.” He said in a formal voice, something that led you to believe that Catelyn had talked to him about being around you, as well.

You frowned at this, holding the flagon out for him. “You could have just told me. I would have maken sure you got to stay.”

“I needed the fresh air, anyway.” He spoke, grabbing the flagon from your hand and taking a long gulp.

“Although I do enjoy the company of your brother and Theon, I have to admit I would have had more fun with you.” You admitted, leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at you. 

He turned his head slightly to be able to look down at you, a smile coming to rest at his lips. “Don’t let Theon hear you say that.”

You snickered, grabbing the flagon back from him and taking a sip. “Something tells me he knows of my feelings.”

“And what feelings would those be?” He asked softly, scanning your face as you watched each other carefully. 

You searched your head for a sassy reply or remark of some kind, but you found none, getting utterly lost in his deep, dark eyes. 

You parted your lips briefly, before closing them again. Your eyes traveled from his eyes to his nose to his lips, catching his Adam’s apple bobbling in the corner of your eye. 

You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and as he rubbed them together, before moving your eyes back to his, searching for any kind of hesitation. 

And when finding none, you leaned your head up and pressed your lips to his. 

Jon responded almost instantly, admittedly being frozen for a few seconds despite knowing your intentions from the start. But he quickly melted into the kiss, moving his lips to match the movements of your own. 

The flagon of wine was long forgotten by now, crimson liquid spilling out into the the snow. 

You reached up to put your arms around his neck, successfully dragging him with you to lie on the ground without ever breaking the kiss that was getting more feverish with every passing second. 

You let your lips break away from his for a moment of breath, before quickly reattaching and this time letting the tips of your tongues meet. 

The only thing on your mind was Jon, how his hands felt as they ran down your sides to squeeze at your hips, how his lips felt as they moved from your lips to your jaw, to your neck, to your collarbone. 

Not in a million years would you have suspected the news that would be pushed upon you the morning after. 

But as you woke up that morning in Jon’s bed and went to the Hall for breakfast, the news were thrust upon you none the less. 

“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words.”

You remembered the ceremony clearly, your father and mother and siblings, and all of the North watching as you were wed to one of your best friends. However, not the one you loved. 

You had broken down in the middle of the room at the news of you betrothal to Robb, screaming and pleading to your father to let you marry Jon instead. 

Your father had, much to everyone’s surprise and your mother’s dismay, agreed, but the boy in question had already heard the news from Robb and decided to go to the Wall with his uncle Benjen. 

You had cried to him the whole night before his departure, about ready to get down on your knees to beg him to stay. It was the most heartbroken he, or anyone else for that matter, had ever seen you. 

It eventually got so bad, you had to be carried to your chambers by your uncle Jaime, who proceeded to hold you the entire night until you finally managed to doze off from exhaustion, the last word Jon had spoken to you before you were taken away being “You deserve better.” 

When you had awoken that morning you had been completely numb, and you hadn’t been able to leave the bed to see Jon off. 

It had broken his heart, but he knew it was his own doing. He wanted so bad to stay with you, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you marry a bastard, and have bastard children. You deserved more than that. You were a princess after all. 

Robert had come to bid him farewell. Although he was absolutely broken at the state of his daughter, and despite the fact that he saw Jon as a fine young man, he too, thought of him as too little for his sweet (Y/N). 

Jon had rode off between Benjen and Tyrion early that morning, heart heavy and eyes stinging with tears. 

“Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his, and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days.”

“Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, until the end of my days.”

The wedding came sooner than you would have wished. Robb saw that you were unhappy, but despite this didn’t protest. 

You would never get over Jon. You would never love Robb as you did his half-brother, but you were, truth be told, happy that it was Robb and not some random high-lord. 

You had gone to war by Robb’s side when he had called the Stark’s bannermen to go up against the Lannisters. Your family. They weren’t really your family, any more, though. 

Your father was dead, and Jaime was too love struck by your mother to be able to differ right from wrong. You only wished he realized it sooner than later, despite everything loving him dearly. 

Robb had never forced you to get intimate with him, something you were more than grateful for. You knew that despite the fact that he hadn’t protested, he didn’t feel that way about you, either. 

When the two of you met Talisa, you had your marriage annulled, allowing him to marry the true love of his life. 

While they were off doing Gods know what during the evenings, you were stuck in your tent with Grey Wind watching over you, the direwolf having, dare you say it, grown closer to you than his own master. 

But you didn’t complain. Animals had always been your preferred company. 

Having made a promise to Walder Frey to marry one of his girls, he had been furious to hear the news that Robb had married Talisa instead of one of his girls once you had annulled your marriage. 

But you came up with a solution, you thought, and were invited into his home for a marriage between Edmure Tully and one of Frey’s girls. 

That’s where everything started going downhill. The only word you could use to describe your stay at the Frey’s was bloodbath. Massacre. 

They called it the Red Wedding. Robb, Talisa and Catelyn had all been slain under the roof where they broke their bread and salt with the Freys. 

You don’t know how you had managed to escape, but you were lucky you had. 

You had ran until your lungs burned, desperate to make it back to your tent before the Freys did, luckily succeeding and managing to get Grey Wind and yourself out of there before they could get to you. 

Ashamed that they had let a girl get away, Walder Frey had made up a graphic, bloody story about how they had slowly killed you and Grey Wind. 

Jon had been unable to keep on is legs when hearing it, having to grab a hold of the table as his knees buckled out of shock, the letter in his hand dropping down to the floor. 

He had screamed, yelled, broken everything in sight as anger and grief filled his entire body, his friends being forced to drag him away from the shelf he was currently hacking to bits with Longclaw. 

This was a while ago. A lot had happened since. Jon had brought the wildlings to Castle Black only shortly before receiving the news about your death. 

He had been stabbed to his death by his supposed brothers, and brought back to life by the Red Woman. 

All the while you had been living in hiding, waiting for the right moment to return to any familiar place. 

And once you’d heard of Jon snow being in command of a wildling army and Castle Black, you headed off without looking back. 

You reached the Wall in a few weeks time. 

Grey Wind was walking slowly by your side as you sat on your horse, loyal as ever. He hadn’t left your side once since the Red Wedding. 

The men who where currently on watch duty in the tower spotted you through the snow, getting ready to call out to you. However, as they spotted the direwolf revealing itself from behind you, they knew in an instant that you were here for Jon, calling out to open the gate. 

“Open the gate!” They called down to the courtyard. 

You didn’t have to stop as the gate started rising only a second later, allowing you clear passage into the castle. 

Everyone stopped and looked at you as you rode through, shock evident on their faces as they laid eyes on the giant beast at your side, Grey Wind now having grown to be almost as big as the very horse you were riding. 

You looked around slowly, searching for the face you had come looking for, but finding it nowhere.

Without stopping your search, you stopped the horse in the middle of the clearing, climbing down from the saddle to stand on the ground. 

A stable boy came over without any words said, taking the horse by the reigns and leading it off, leaving you to grab at Grey Wind’s fur as he growled quietly at the people around you in suspicion. 

“Last time someone came to fetch me to see something down in the courtyard, I was stabbed repeatedly in the chest.” Jon grumbled as he walked alongside Edd, steps determined but annoyed as he had been busy when Edd had come rushing in to take him outside, speaking a bunch of gibberish that was quite hard to comprehend. 

“Trust me.” He told his friend. “You’re going to want to see this.”

You held your head held high as you kept looking around, keeping your stare hard to show the people around you that you weren’t bothered by their stares in the slightest. 

You had yet to see Jon, and you were just about to give up and ask someone of his whereabouts when suddenly your name was called. 

“(Y/N)?” Your heart skipped a beat at the familiar voice, head whipping around to find the source so quickly you got dizzy. 

“Jon.” You breathed as you caught sight of him on top of the stairs to the upper part of the castle, looking between you and Grey Wind in shock.

Neither you nor the people in the yard had any time to react as Jon flung himself down the stairs, several steps at a time, and launched himself towards you. 

Your face broke into a watery smile as this seemed to trigger your own movements, running to meet him in the middle. 

The two of you hit each other in an embrace so rough you probably would have complained about the pain in any other case, but as you for the first time in several years felt the warmth of your first and only love’s arms around you, the only thing you could think of was him. 

The only thing on your mind it that moment, as you hugged each other close, was Jon. Just as it had been every day since the day you had first met. 

“Tell me you love me, Jon Snow.” You breathed into his neck, tears now spilling down your cold cheeks. “Tell me you want me just as much as I’ve always wanted you.”

“I love you. You’re the only thing I want.”

And with that, you pulled your head away from his neck and pressed your lips to his just like you had done that one night in Winterfell. 

Just like you had done on the best day of your life. 

#robb stark x reader #robb stark imagine #robb stark #the king in the north #the young wolf #jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow imagine #theon greyjoy x reader #theon greyjoy #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #joffrey baratheon #joffrey lannister #jaime lannister #jaime lannister x reader #robert baratheon #house baratheon #house stark #baratheon reader #red wedding #grey wind #direwolf

[vivilove-jonsa]

“Are we lost AGAIN?!”

Thank you for the dialogue prompt @foreverreadingbeautifulbooks !!  I’m so sorry it took me so long.  

Obviously, I went with a little fic to play on the whole ‘They both failed geography’ thing here.  I hope you’ll enjoy it :)

**

“Are we lost AGAIN?”

“No, no!  This is the way, I swear,” Sansa tells Theon’s sister with a breezy (and feigned) confidence.  

But nothing seems right. It’s fully night but the moon should be reflecting off water by now, not pine trees.  They’re heading towards the beach, not into a forest.  She’d been the appointed navigator ever since mobile service had crapped out here in the middle of nowhere a couple of hours ago.

“You look responsible…plus, you’re sober,” Asha had declared when she’d asked her to move up beside her.  

Sansa had enjoyed the praise at the time.  Now, she almost wishes she’d joined the boys in their drinking game.  

She turns the mystical portal of secrets her father had shoved into her hands as they’d been heading off this way and that, attempting to make heads or tails of it.  

(Okay, it’s a road atlas.)

People used maps and atlases for centuries before Google Maps and Waze came along, right?  How hard can it be?

Sansa can feel her cheeks growing pink as she studies the route a second time.  There’s no use pretending.  Might as well fess up.  Navigator and shotgun status revoked, no doubt.  

Robb will probably relish the chance to ride up front and be the big brother/know-it-all while Sansa will slink to the back of the RV where Theon’s probably still singing the best of Jimmy Buffett in his post-finals alcoholic haze.    

The two oldest Stark kids had been invited to go RVing with the Greyjoy siblings as a way to celebrate the end of the semester.  Oh, and Robb and Theon’s friend Jon has been invited along, too.

The RV is really nice (which it’d have to be for Sansa to willingly agree to the rather tight quarters for a three-day weekend.)  She’d said she could rough it.  Robb had laughed at her considering traveling in an RV as deluxe as this one ‘roughing it.’ Three days at the beach was hard to turn down.  

And did she mention that Robb and Theon’s very hot friend Jon Snow who she’s been crushing on the past couple of months has been invited along?

Sansa takes a deep breath and comes clean.  “So, here’s the thing…that turn back there a couple of hours ago?  We were actually supposed to take that turn.”

“I knew it!” Asha says, slamming her fist on the wheel.  “Gimme that atlas.”

“You’re driving!” she screeches as the huge vehicle veers into oncoming traffic…if there were any traffic out here in the pine forest of nothingness.  It’s like the ideal set up for a horror movie to be honest.  

“Dammit, Sansa.  It’ll take four hours to get there now.”  

Sansa’s lips purse but she’s not got much room to reply.  “I’m sorry.”

“We’re stopping so I can look at the atlas!” Asha announces to the rest of the riders.  “Robb, could you come up here and help?”

Sansa’s whole face burns with shame as she passes Robb along the narrow galley corridor.  He gives her a sympathetic look but it doesn’t change what’s coming.  

“Leave it to Sansa to get us lost,” Theon snickers loudly.  “I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised.  Didn’t you fail geography or something?”

“That is a LIE!”  

It is a lie started by Joffrey Baratheon and two of his asshole friends who’d thought they were clever telling everyone that when Sansa had made the mistake of crying over making a C in class one day.  No one’s let her forget it since.  Juvenile idiots.    

“Fuck off, Theon,” Asha snaps and he shuts is mouth at once.  Even drunk, he’s not stupid enough to start stuff with his sister, especially if he doesn’t want to find himself abandoned in the middle of nowhere.  

Moving past where Theon is sitting at the dining nook, she decides to head back to the ‘bedroom.’ Her and Asha are sharing the queen-sized bed back there while the boys are stuck squabbling over the two bunk beds and the couch.  She figures she might as well lie down.  Maybe she’ll wake up at the beach.  

But Jon’s sitting back there, fiddling with the guitar he brought along.  She likes him.  She wishes he didn’t seem so shy around her.  She gets the funny feeling she makes him uncomfortable.  She regrets that.  She’d like to be friendly with him.  Maybe even friends.  Maybe even more…

“What are you playing?”

He moves the guitar off his lap and scrubs at his beard.  “It’s, um…‘Wonderwall.’  Well, it’s supposed to be that.”  

“Oh, it was…”

“Shit.  It’s okay, I know it’s not great.  Did we take a wrong turn or something?”

“Yeah.  It was my fault.”

“It happens,” he shrugs. “Did you really fail geography?”

“No!  Who flunks geography?”

“Sorry.  I just…well, I did one semester.”

“Oh!”  Great, now she feels bad.  “I’m sorry, Jon.”

“Nah, it’s okay.  Mr. Thorne seemed to hate my ass from Day One. I couldn’t do anything right and pretty soon I didn’t want to.”  He gives her a shy grin.  He’s got the sweetest grin.  “Still, it sucked.  I hated going to summer school.  I told my friends I had a job that summer.  Well, Theon knew the truth since he was there, too.”

She nods sympathetically and decides to share her own High School Horror Story.  “I failed Pre-Calculus the first time.  Mr. Baelish didn’t hate me.  Quite the opposite really.  But he never explained things well in class and when I asked about getting some help one afternoon after calls he made me very uncomfortable.  I didn’t go back and I was too embarrassed to tell my parents why.”    

“That guy’s a complete creep.  I would’ve kicked his ass if I’d known…or known you then.”

“Thanks, Jon.”  

She feels all warm and tingly inside sitting here next to him.  He’s not shy really and now she doesn’t think she makes him uncomfortable at all.

Her earlier humiliation forgotten, she stretches out on the bed and encourages him to play some more for her.  They wind up sharing a couple of beers when he tires of strumming the guitar as the pine forest rolls past the window and begins to thin out.  The last thing she remembers is telling him there’s room enough for them to both lay here.

**

Asha gratefully brings the RV to a stop just as the sun is rising up out of the water.  She’ll get the guys to help her with hooking everything up and then lay down for a couple of hours.  They can head to the beach after that.  

But when she reaches the back of the RV, she sees Jon and Sansa are cuddled up rather cozily on the bed together.  

She smirks at the pair of them before shoving Theon out of his bunk and telling him to take the couch. Thankfully, he’s too sleepy to argue or ask why.  

They were both still dressed but considering the way those two have been shooting glances at each other when they didn’t think either was looking the past couple of months, she can’t say she’ll be terribly surprised if Jon ‘I-Failed-Geography’ Snow manages to find his way into Sansa’s pants eventually.  

#jonsa fanfiction #jonsa #dialogue prompts #modern au #foreverreadingbeautifulbooks