#all the mormont girls really

[fairysluna]

hi girl! i’m so glad ur trying to get back to writing bc all ur works are so good! for the character/trope thing, can i choose canon cregan w targ!reader with the trope grumpy x sunshine? with the reader being sunshine! can’t wait to see what u come up w! i missed u!

thank you for your sweet words my love! i really, really appreciate it😭🤍 i tried my best, and though you asked for targ!reader, i did not write any physical description for reader... hope that's okay!🤍

tags — fluff, grumpy x sunshine trope

“You'll age sooner if you're always mad, my love.”

The sweetness of your voice was all he needed to hear to relax his shoulder and posture, shifting from one serious semblance to a softer one. Once your hands reached his shoulders, he even let out a sigh, closing his eyes in the instant your perfume reached his nose. He breathed in, almost humming in delight thanks to your mere presence. “I am not mad,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer enough to hide his face on the crock of your neck. “Not anymore at least…”

“Not anymore?” you softly giggled, your hands immediate going towards his hair, tangling your cold fingers with his deep brown locks. “Was the meeting with Lord Mormont too stressful for you?” You grabbed his cheeks after he refused to answer the question, forcing him to open his eyes to stare at you. Cregan tilted his head, groaning, and you couldn't help but smile at his expression. “Look at you! You're frowning already!” You brought your index finger towards the space between his eyebrow, circling the spot until he relaxed his muscles again. He sighed.

“Stop it,” Cregan muttered. “I do not wish to talk about it today.”

“Alright, then we shall not talk about it…” Cregan whispered a small thank you, his eyes getting heavy thanks to the exhaustion of such a busy day. He leaned forward, wanting to go back to bury his face on your neck, yet you stopped him. The Warden of the North moaned loudly as a complaint. “I cannot believe it… you've barely seen me today and you still haven't kissed me yet!” Cregan pressed his lips, holding back a groan. Then, he grabbed the back of your head, pulling you towards him and trapping your lips in a slow, tempting kiss that took your breath away.

Such a gesture was only stopped after a few seconds, when the both of you were breathless with swollen lips. A silly smile appeared on your face, which was contagious enough to make him smile too. You sighed, delighted with the sight of your husband in front of you. “Mhm… there it is,” you softly murmured, standing on your tiptoes to brush your nose against his. “That beautiful smile. You should wear it more often.”

“Don’t be greedy,” he said. “You've become spoiled.”

“You love me just like that,” you shrugged.

Cregan let out a breathy laugh, kissing the corners of your lips and wrapping you in his arms. “I love you just like that,” he agreed, smiling like a fool.

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GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics

CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon

BOLD MEANS I COULDN'T TAG YOU.

#cregan stark #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x you #hotd #house of the dragon

[fvckinaphrodite]

You know those fics where Catelyn Tully Stark is depicted as this evil bitch who disrespect the North, its people, its culture, its Gods? That the Northmen hate her because she's one of the southern ladies throughout centuries that become the Lady of Winterfell and believe in the Faith of the Seven? That she somehow always insists for her children to stay away from their direwolves till the end? Where, I ask? Where tf those craps ever written in canon?! WHERE?!

Because I tell you I'm reading A Storm of Swords right now, and I find nothing of those shits. She's always courteous to the Northmen, even those who are huge-rawdy-closer to wildling type and don't give a shit about propriety like Greatjon Umber. She doesn't look down on Maege Mormont who fights just as good as men like those crap fics suggest. When Robb comes back to Riverrun from his campaign in Westerlands and they learn about what she's done, Maege sympathizes with Cat and tells her that she would've done the same if it were her daughters that's been taken. The Greatjon lifts her in the air and tells her some optimistic motivational words about how Robb gonna beat Jaime again. What else, she's horrified when Robb tells her that Grey Wind is not allowed inside the keep because he doesn't like Jeyne Westerling's uncle. She REMINDS Robb that Grey Wind is part of him, and BELIEVES that the Old Gods has sent the direwolves for her children to be their protectors. A chill literally "went through her" when she believes that Jeyne's uncle is not good for her son, all because Grey Wind also doesn't trust him (or as Robb says, "doesn't like the smell of him). She has to beg Robb to send Jeyne's uncle away.

All I'm saying is that, I won't give any Catelyn haters a minute of my life if I can help it. Just say you are a misogynist and be done with it. The fandom really hates her all because she refuses to mother a child that is not her responsiblity, that she owes nothing of. They hate her because she's just trying to save her remaining children--two little girls whom in the eyes of her eldest son worth next to nothing. Robb refuses to save his sisters, and when his mother takes matter in her own hands, they condemn her, as if they wouldn't have done the same thing in her position. It's so easy to see her as the obstacle to Robb's campaign, yet people tend to forget that any decent parent would do the exact same thing. Especially when ASOIAF universe is filled with murdered children.

#catelyn tully #catelyn stark #catelyn tully stark #catelyn tully defence squad #catelyn stark defence squad #pro catelyn stark #asoiaf #asos #a storm of swords #a song of ice and fire #robb stark #house stark #sansa stark #arya stark #got #anti asoiaf fandom #house tully

[atopvisenyashill]

thoughts on the grand northern conspiracy theory?

it makes some points but i think most of it is deeply silly and relies on far too many leaps in logic and characters acting in a way they would never act all to push a “jon will be king” theory, which as i’m sure everyone knows, i am a big hater of.

The basis of the theory is that the Northern lords are purposefully playing Stannis & the Bolton/Freys against each other so they can take each other out, and free the North up for a Stark King & Northern Independence. That, on its face, I fully believe. It’s the details in the theory that I don’t fully buy into.

It’s basically canon that the Northern lords & ladies are really taking advantage of the chaotic politics & lack of a real centralized leader at the moment to make their own political moves. Some examples here include:

Arnolf & Cregan Karstark are explicitly doing this, something Alys comments on and something several other lords point out: "My uncle declared for Stannis, in hopes it might provoke the Lannisters to take poor Harry's head. Should my brother die, Karhold should pass to me, but my uncles want my birthright for their own." They don't really care about Stannis, they want Harry dead so they can have Karhold.

Alysane Mormont is potentially working off orders from her mother, when she says here, "Five, we were. All girls. Lyanna is back on Bear Island. Lyra and Jory are with our mother. Dacey was murdered." Even though as far as we know before that, all of Maege's girls were at Bear Island (except Dacey, who was with Maege in Robb's campaign).

There's the Umbers refusing to fight each other while picking two different sides, and this theory here that it was likely a plan between Mors and Hother to keep the Greatjon alive.

The Manderly Of It All re: very obviously using his granddaughter's anger as a cover for his own brutal plans for revenge and a Stark restoration.

The North is all clearly playing the game & attempting to oust the Boltons & Freys from power. I also don’t think the grumbling for Northern Independence would have died down since Robb died - if anything, after their King is brutally, viciously murdered, his mother’s corpse made a mockery of, his little Queen now a prisoner, and his sisters married off to enemies & humiliated, I imagine the calls for Northern Independence have gotten louder. This is a people that has suffered not just death and violence, but a lot of humiliation on top of that, and all of that is the perfect recipe for some sort of nationalist call for independence.

But the theory has. Some points that I just cannot co-sign because they make absolutely zero sense to me.

The idea that the only thing stopping Jon from being king is Jeyne being pregnant or the witnesses of Robb’s will being dead is just silly. He isn’t Ned Stark’s son, he is Lyanna’s! That puts Robb’s entire will in question, and you can bet your ass that there will be some grumbling or discussion about whether Winterfell should bypass Ned‘a line despite him having TWO true born sons and TWO true born daughters still alive, or whether it goes to Lyanna and therefore to Jon. The succession question is just NOT as simple as the meta makes it out to be because it completely ignores that Jon is, I cannot stress this enough, NOT actually Ned Stark’s son.

The meta is right that it’s likely Maege & Gallbart got a message to Howland because Theon notes that there’s been attacks by craggoman. But. Howland is one of - possible thee only - person left alive that knows Jon is Lyanna’s son. There is just no way he doesn’t have a strong opinion on whether Jon should inherit winterfell without knowing the truth.

Irrelevant but it’s really mean to Jeyne Westerling. Whatever role she may have - even if it’s to die in the prologue of TWOW - her life and her death are important regardless of whether she’s pregnant! She is the widow of a King, and if she dies by LSH’s hand, it’s going to be a huge point in showing us the violence in the Riverlands. Maybe the continued breakdown in the Riverlands, Lady Stoneheart’s anger, and Jeyne’s defiance of her family is not relevant to the King Jon pushers, but it IS thematically relevant to the plot thank you very fucking much. THE GIRL IS JUST AS IMPORTANT AS THE BOY.

More relevant to this point is there’s just no way in fuck that Lady Stoneheart is trying to crown Jon. “oh she has bigger problems” she is going to crown one of her children if she crowns anyone, likely Arya, not her husband’s bastard who she fucking hated & asked to be banished to a glorified penal colony. Look at Brynden’s comments about Jon:

The Blackfish narrowed his eyes. "Did your father arrange for that as well? Catelyn never trusted the boy, as I recall, no more than she ever trusted Theon Greyjoy. It would seem she was right about them both.

Cat hates that kid so much she wrote letters to her uncle talking shit about him but we are supposed to believe this is proof she wants to crown him? When she's so far gone she's willing to kill Podrick and Brienne off a perceived slight against her? When she's heard several rumors that her daughters may still be alive and well? No. Don't buy it even a little.

Also, Brynden is flying Robb’s banner bc Robb was his family, because he loved Catelyn, and because what else is he supposed to do when he’s in the middle of a siege?? This point is silly and nonsensical.

Harwin as the Hooded Man - i mean. there’s nothing for or against this really, but also the Theon Durden theory aka Theon is the hooded man and doesn’t realize bc he’s having a psychotic episode, is much more believable to me & much more in line with everything that’s happening in theon’s chapter.

So like. Yes, the basic premise of “the northern lords are desperately looking for a stark, any stark, to make king/queen in the north, bc they are tired of All This Bullshit” is something i completely agree with. I do think it’s likely Maege has been in contact with her daughters, & that she and Gallbart made contact with Howland, who is about to enter the scene in a big way. But all that ish about LSH, the BWB, and Blackfish? Absolutely not. LSH is about Arya’s story (and Brienne & Jaime’s), not Jon. Stoneheart doesn’t care about the politics in Westeros; she cares that she followed all the rules and it got her family killed, so now she will break every rule there is to get revenge for her slaughtered children. she is Alyssa Arryn except she has the power to cause a lot of suffering before her tears drown her. she is not wasting her second life crowning jon snow!

#the grand northern conspiracy #valyrianscrolls #the north #and the mummer's farce is almost done #lady stoneheart #anti grand northern conspiracy theory #getting on my soap box #this is all me being a hater aljdsflkj

[jackoshadows]

What I really hate are these analyses that uses some material from ASoIaF, some material from GOT and in some cases material from HOTD is also thrown in to make matters even more ridiculous.

Pick a lane and stick to it! Either do an analysis only of GOT or do one only of ASoIaF and tag them accordingly. The two are not the same. The characters are different, their stories are different and GRRM has even come out and said a lot of the character endings are different.

Why then mix up the two source materials? Just came across a ridiculous analysis that used Dany's ending from the show to argue how she's the worst while for Sansa it's all 'There must be a Stark in Winterfell' and the 'North remembers' when where is all that on the show?

On the show the North were 'disloyal weather vanes' according to Sansa herself. THE NORTH WAS TEAM BOLTON ON THE SHOW. When Jon and Sansa were touring the North for support, the Freefolk supported Jon and Davos got them the support of house Mormont. NO ONE SUPPORTED SANSA STARK. And later they all ignored 'The Ned's girl' who was sitting right there and elected Jon Snow King in the North.

Sansa then wanted to punish even the children of traitors Karstark/Umber for what their fathers did. Later LF manipulates houses Glover and someone else to support Sansa over Jon which amounted to nothing because those houses did not even turn up to the long night/last battle of the dawn and the North would have been toast if not for Dany's armies and dragons.

So using the book plot where the North is rallying behind ARYA STARK and RICKON STARK to argue how the North will fully back Sansa taking back Winterfell with the Vale army and then using the garbage ending of the TV show to state that Dany will burn down KL etc. is absolute rubbish and is baffling how that's considered as any kind of legitimate analysis.

#asoiaf #anti GOT

[woorweid]

i will always feel frustrated about the ways ned and cat failed to fully show arya she was loved. she is failing femininity at winterfell and it really feels like no one but jon was stepping in and telling her that she’s ok.. that shes loved.. that there’s a kind of person she can be. and what she wants (to run and jump and fight and to not be failing all the time) is actually not so crazy???? starks live in the north, they know the lady mormonts at bear isle! and hell, other noble families seemed to have figured out raising gnc girls (brienne, yara, many others), including ned’s own sister!!! also.. cat literally grew up the way arya is needing so badly to live and cat can’t even figure out that it’s ok! that maybe someone can tell septa mordane to lay off! the feeling of rejection and inadequacy that arya carries her entire life is NOT bc of sansa, a litral child, it’s bc her parents can’t get their act together to show up for her fast enough. and it hurts her so much, she feels so bad, so guilty, so scared. jesus h christ…

#arya stark #asoiaf #she’s so important… #the starks #ned critical #lol #fry thinks

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

If any of the remaining starklings got any more parental figures/mentors, who could you see, for example I could see Howland Reed whenever he's introduced stepping into a fatherly role and/or mentor to bran considering already has a connection with the reeds

I also can see Howard Reed acting like a mentor to Bran! He's the one who send his children to Winterfell to be associated with him. Besides, as Ned's companion I'm sure he will appreciate all the parallels Bran shares with his father.

And while Jon is much older than Bran and doesn't really need a parental figure, I can see Howard Reed being fond of him. Not only he's Lyanna's son but also Howard spend a large amount of time with infant Jon when they were traveling from Dorne to the North.

If Brynden Tully survives ( which I hope he does) I can see him being protective of Cat's children. Among them, I'm most interested on his potential relationship with Arya. Blackfish seems to appreciate Catelyn's smarts and boldness and those are traits Arya also has. Can you imagine Blackfish teaching Arya how to use her sword properly?

Davos Seaworth is on a mission to find the youngest Stark, Rickon. Given Davos kind nature and the fact that he's a caring dad himself, I can see him growing a bond with the young orphan Rickon.

Not a parental figure because she's too young but once Brienne finds the Stark sisters I could see her acting like an older sister. Trying to protect them not only because she promised their mother but also because she can see herself on these younger girls who had to face the horrors of the world so early in their lives.

The day any of the Mormont ladies meet Arya Stark, they are gonna to adopt her to their family. Arya would have a great time on the Bear island and the Mormont ladies would love to have her there.

#house Stark #valyrianscrolls #jon snow #sansa stark #arya stark #bran stark #rickon stark #howard reed #brynden tully #davos seaworth #brienne of tarth #house mormont #asoiaf ask

[vladiator]

Birdwatching for Dummies

A Sansan fanfic that you can also read on AO3

Rating: Explicit Fandoms: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark Characters: Sandor Clegane, Sansa Stark, Jorah Mormont, Robb and Arya briefly Additional Tags: Sandor is a creepy creep but does feel guilty, Sandor is oblivious, Pining, Oral Sex, This is horny then fluffy then funny then fluffy then sexy, Lady is a cat, Stranger is a dog, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern AU, age gap, Older Man/Younger Woman Length: 16,486 words

Sandor's not a bad guy, he's just got a bad habit. And that bad habit is watching a certain red-haired young woman through her window.

(Previously titled 'The Birdhouse' but I changed the name)

She thought she was safe.

Sandor chuckled as he watched the red-haired girl dance around in her living room in her pajamas. Of course she thought she was safe, she was in a second-story apartment in an expensive gated complex. Her balcony faced the woods and the whole building was fairly isolated. Sandor almost would have bet that that's what made the girl want to move here; he could practically hear the office manager, a man named Jorah Mormont, tell the girl something like, "You'll have a scenic view of the trees, and you'll be in the last building on the road, away from any and all prying eyes." 

Mormont wouldn't have bet that said prying eyes would find a perfect little spot on a small hill. He also wouldn't have bet that the prying eyes would belong to the complex's resident handyman. 

Sandor didn't like to think of himself as a pervert. He normally wasn't. He'd found this spot on the hill a few years earlier but hadn't used it, because there was nobody in that apartment worth spying on. The day she moved in, she grabbed his attention immediately. Mormont had asked him to help her move some furniture up the stairs, but he didn't give the girl's name nor did Sandor ask for it. They headed to her apartment, where both Mormont and Sandor were surprised to see that the young woman had four brothers and a sister helping her move in that day, and their services were unnecessary. He saw the girl going up the stairs, and he was entranced.

"She mentioned she had a big family," Mormont had said when they'd returned to the office on that first day. "I just didn't think that big."

Sandor hadn't seen the girl's siblings after that. They probably lived too far away to be regular visitors. That made him wonder what the girl was doing in their city. She was pale, clearly not used to the Casterly Rock sun. That was what had really enchanted Sandor the first time he saw her: her porcelain skin, smooth and unblemished, a stark contrast to his own. And her hair – red as the embers that had burned him all those years ago. She was stunning, unbelievably so, and Sandor found himself frequenting this spot in the woods once or twice a week in the few months since she'd moved in. 

Even if somebody else found out about the secret spot, it would be of no use to them. The little hill wasn't big enough for an average-sized person to see into the girl's apartment. But Sandor wasn't average in any way, shape, or form. He was big enough to see through the two separate sets of French doors on the balcony. The balcony was wide, and one set led to her living room, while the other led to her bedroom.

The curtains in the bedroom were always closed, but that was fine by Sandor. He got enough jerk-off material from the view of the living room. She was never naked in there, but she often wore thin pajamas, and that was all he needed. 

After the first week of watching her, he'd bought binoculars, which he did feel a bit gross about. He managed to square it away in his mind by thinking, I could be much worse. I could be Gregor. Then this girl would be in real danger. I just want to look.

Sandor’s older brother Gregor was doing time in another city for a string of rapes. Sandor had actually been the one to dob him in to the police, because despite how sloppy the crime scenes had been, the cops had zero leads. That was why Sandor had moved to Casterly Rock, because he knew that once Gregor got out, he'd hunt his little brother down. 

As he watched the girl twirl about in her apartment, Sandor imagined that she was running from something, too. Maybe she was a runaway bride, so desperate to avoid her ex-fiancé that she moved away from home. Or maybe she'd done something to piss her parents off and they kicked her out. In reality, her backstory was probably quite boring, but this was one of his tamer imaginings, so he let himself daydream and wonder. 

The girl stopped dancing for a second to bend over and pick up her cat. Sandor relished the short view of her backside through her night shorts. She then held the fluffy white cat in her arms and twirled around the room again, smiling and probably laughing. The scene was adorable, a picture of perfect domesticity that Sandor would never be able to experience. He'd be no good at it anyway. 

After a few minutes of dancing with her cat, the girl put the feline on the couch and then disappeared further into the apartment. The sun was setting, so Sandor supposed she would be getting ready for bed soon. The girl seemed to have no particular schedule. She'd wake in the mornings and dance around for a bit, then head off to work, which was clearly only a part-time gig because she'd be back home in the early afternoon. She had a keyboard in the apartment and sometimes she'd play it in the evenings, and Sandor was sure she played beautifully even though he couldn't hear it. Everything about her was beautiful.

The girl re-emerged holding what Sandor thought at first was a pamphlet, only to quickly realize when the girl opened her mouth that it was sheet music. She was singing, probably a haunting and mournful song judging by the stern look on her face, but all Sandor could think about was her lips and how they'd feel around his cock. He didn't know what her voice sounded like but he could almost hear her gagging as she took him in her mouth, as he grabbed her by the back of her head and shoved himself deeper into her throat–

Fuuuuuuuck, thought Sandor. He was growing hard in his work jeans. Normally he could keep himself under control while he watched her, but sometimes his fantasies would run away from him. But he'd always manage to save it until he got home. He didn't want to be the creeper jerking off in the woods, even though he knew damn well his behavior was creepy enough. But she was just too perfect, too hard to ignore.

Sandor decided to cut his little visit short and head home. He lived in a ground floor apartment near the main building. The complex had its own pool, and as Sandor walked home he thought about how if the girl ever went swimming, he'd be able to see her from his balcony.

He shoved the door closed and locked it, before pulling off his clothes frantically. His dog Stranger, an old Doberman, was sleeping on the couch, and didn't even stir as Sandor shuffled to his bedroom, his pants now around his ankles. As soon as his bedroom door was shut behind him, he began to stroke his cock while thinking of that beautiful redhead. He imagined her on her knees for him, her mouth open wide, her blue eyes looking into his grey ones. At least he thought her eyes were blue, it was hard to tell from the woods. But that didn't matter right now. All he could think of was her lips, how they'd look around his cock, how they'd feel on his own lips. He would come in her throat and then pull her by her hair up to look him in the eyes, then slam his mouth into hers. 

Sandor came hard, his seed spilling all over the carpeted floor. Fucking hell, he thought. Good thing I'm never fucking leaving this hellhole. 

He stripped off the remainder of his clothes before cleaning up his mess as best he could. He could only afford to live in this fairly nice apartment complex because he worked there, so he didn't take anything for granted. His apartment was mostly bare except for the necessary furniture items, which were all mismatched because he'd found them all at separate yard sales and thrift stores. Once everything was clean to his satisfaction, he crawled into bed and fell asleep, hoping to dream of that beautiful girl. 

—————————————————

Sandor was woken up the next morning by the sound of his phone ringing. His ring tone was the same basic one that every phone came pre-installed with, because he couldn't be bothered to change it, and it also served as a fairly decent alarm for him. He shot up in bed and grabbed his phone like it was a bomb about to explode. 

"Hey, Clegane," came Mormont's voice on the other end. "I got a job for you."

"Yeah?" Sandor could hear the grogginess in his own voice. He'd slept longer than he'd planned to. 

"Miss Stark says she's got a leak in her kitchen, you think you could check it out today?"

"Miss Stark?" Sandor didn't know most of the names of the tenants, so he immediately pictured that one old lady in Building 4. 

"The young lady in apartment 620. I'm sure you've seen her around. " 

The realization hit Sandor like a slap in the face. Miss Stark was the girl, his girl. 

"Yeah, I can check her out. Check it out. What time should I head that way?"

"If my memory serves me correctly, she works from 9 to 3, so any time between then would be good."

"Got it." 

Sandor hung up the phone and collapsed in his bed. That redhead, that gorgeous gorgeous redhead, needed him. And he was ready to answer the call. Of course, it was only half past eight now, so he had more time to lie in bed and think of his girl and her porcelain skin, think about how her slender fingers would feel on him. 

—————————————————

Sandor decided that 10 was a good time to show up at the girl's apartment. Of course, it wasn't like anyone was keeping track of him, but he still felt that going there right at nine was a bit much. Besides, what if she was running late that day, and he ran into her in the stairwell? She'd walk right past him, completely unaware that he'd watched her the night before, just like he'd done many, many times, before going home to fuck his fist to the thought of her. She'd have no idea that the man she was passing was going into her apartment, the same apartment he'd been staring into with binoculars.

One of the fun things about being the complex's handyman was that he essentially had the keys to every single apartment in every single building. If he wanted to he could walk into any young woman's apartment like he owned the place and ransack the fridge and sniff the underwear and do whatever he wanted to do. But he didn't do that, because he did have some semblance of a moral code, even if it was hard to find. Besides, the only woman worth the trouble was his little redheaded Miss Stark, and he actually wanted to avoid her like the plague. He was certain that if they ever made eye contact, he'd explode. 

Sandor bounded up the stairs, toolbox in hand. Apartment 620 wasn't hard to find, because a lemon-shaped welcome mat sat in front of the door. God, is everything about this woman fucking adorable? he thought as he jammed the master key into the lock.

The sound of the washing machine running was the first thing he noticed. There was an odd rattling sound, and for a moment he wondered if he should look at it while he was there. But, as Mormont had mentioned many times before, in-apartment washing machines were the tenants' responsibility. They bought it, they broke it, they fix it.

The apartment was just as cutesy as the welcome mat, with pastels and floral designs abound. Sandor knew based on it being in Building 6 that it was a similar layout to his, but larger and with an extra bedroom. He wondered who or what that extra bedroom was for. Maybe it was just for storage. Maybe it was so if one of her five million siblings came to visit, they wouldn't have to sleep on the couch. Or maybe it was just in case. Just in case she got knocked up after a one-night stand, or something. Sandor chuckled quietly at the thought of his little redhead getting pregnant after just one night with him. But in his few months of watching her, he hadn't seen her bring anyone home nor stay out late. He guessed all of her friends were back home, wherever that was.

Despite how often Sandor tried to tell himself he wasn't a nasty creepy bad man, he still had to fight the urge to snoop around the girl's bedroom and rifle through her unmentionables. He was able to power through those urges but he did allow himself to stand there for a moment and take it all in. He imagined what it would be like to burst through that front door and yell the classic line, "Honey, I'm home!" In his fantasy, little Miss Stark would then waltz into the main area entirely nude and ready for him. Sandor felt himself growing a little hard at the thought of that. 

Then, the bedroom door opened. And she walked out, wearing nothing but a tight tank top and baby blue underwear. Her mouth fell open when she saw him, and she screamed at the top of her lungs. 

"No, no, don't scream. I'm here for your leaky sink," exclaimed Sandor, waving his tool box in the air, as if the presence of tools would make anything better. He didn't blame her for being startled and scared; he was well over a foot taller than her and muscular, and Mormont had once told him that he had "resting monster face," whatever that was supposed to mean. 

Miss Stark looked close to hyperventilation, but managed to calm herself down and stutter out, "I– I'm so sorry, I didn't think you would be here so soon–"

"Mormont told me you'd be at work."

The girl ran her fingers through her thick red hair and said, "I'm supposed to be. As soon as I got there I was told all my students had canceled on me, so I came home and started doing laundry. I kind of forgot about my sink. Let me go see what other clean clothes I have to wear."

She dashed back into her bedroom. Sandor had wanted to tell her not to worry about it, and that she could stay in her underwear and the world's thinnest tank top all damn day. But that would be unprofessional, so he held his tongue. However, he was definitely saving that lovely sight to the ol' wank bank database. 

Sandor awkwardly went over to the kitchen and set his toolbox down. A few seconds later, the girl came back out from her room, now dressed in a pastel pink onesie that was clearly designed to look like a fox. "I'm sorry for my appearance," the girl said. "All of my clothes are in the wash." 

"It's fine. I've seen worse," grumbled Sandor, but he immediately regretted his words, wondering if she'd be offended. He had seen worse though, in the form of an old man who lived in a pair of ratty boxer shorts no matter the weather. He'd lived in Building 2 and was constantly clogging the toilet, so Sandor was out there pretty much every other week. The old man had died a few years back, and Sandor definitely didn't miss him. 

Sansa walked around the kitchen island and stood near Sandor as he inspected the sink. "There's a slow leak in one of the pipes," she explained, gesturing to the cabinet below the sink. "It was dripping onto this pan I was storing under there all night and I kept hearing it and it kept waking me up."

"You must be a light sleeper." Sandor knelt down and opened the cabinet door, and immediately saw the leak. 

"Definitely. My mom says that when I was a baby I would sleep like I was dead, but now that I'm an adult I wake up at the slightest of noises."

Sandor didn't respond to the girl, focusing entirely on the pipes in the dark cabinet. Miss Stark clearly took his lack of response as a cue to shut up, because she stopped chirping at him. But Sandor didn't want her to shut up. In fact, he could have listened to her all day, if there wasn't a job at hand. Her voice was as perky as her tits, and she talked with her hands as well, moving and flapping them about. This was the closest he had ever been to her, and he was more entranced than ever.

Luckily for the girl and unluckily for Sandor, the sink was an easy fix. Sandor opened his tool box and set to work. After a few minutes of twisting and pulling and other plumber-type actions, he stood up and said, "You're all set."

Then, the most amazing thing happened. The girl looked up at him and smiled. She smiled a genuine grin, not the fake shit he'd seen so many times before. It was a smile that reached her sparkling blue eyes, a smile of joy and gratitude. Nobody had ever smiled at Sandor like that, and he was sure that nobody ever would again. She was so ridiculously beautiful that it pained him. 

"Thank you so much, Mister–?"

"Clegane. But just call me Sandor."

"Thank you, Sandor." The way she said his name made him want to melt all over her. "I should have some cash around here somewhere to give to you..."

"No cash. It's part of my job," replied Sandor, even though he could definitely think of a few things he'd want from the girl in exchange for his services. 

"Still, I am so grateful. And next time I'll make sure to tell Mr. Mormont if I'm going to be home early. I can't believe all my students canceled on me."

"Students?"

"Oh, I teach piano at this music place." She waved her hand in the air as if that explained anything any further. "Maybe I'll give you a lesson some time?"

Sandor couldn't think of an appropriate response, so he just forced an awkward smile at the girl. "Is there anything else you need fixing? Besides the washing machine. I can't touch that." 

"Oh, is there something wrong with my washing machine?"

"It's not supposed to rattle like that." 

"Oh!" said the girl. "I guess I'll have to call someone about that. You know, you look familiar." 

"You've probably seen me around. I live here, too."

"You're in Building 1, aren't you? I've seen you helping your mother up the stairs."

It took Sandor a second to realize what she meant. "That's not my mother, that old lady just lives above me and I help her sometimes." Mrs. Tyrell was half blind but still insisted on living on the second floor. Occasionally she'd knock on his door and ask for him to help carry her groceries up the stairs, and because he never had anything else to do, he'd always say yes. 

"Oh. Well, that's really sweet of you. But that's all for today, I guess."

It almost seemed like the girl didn't want Sandor to leave. Perhaps she was lonely, which was a shock to Sandor. He couldn't imagine this girl being short on people who wanted to spend time with her. He was also surprised that she'd noticed him around the complex, but then again he was unnaturally large. The thought that she had seen him and he didn't know about it was kind of funny to him, considering how often he watched her when she didn't know. 

Sandor shuffled out of Miss Stark's apartment and began his walk home, the image of the girl in her underwear still fresh in his mind. The fox onesie was pretty appealing too, though: he could envision himself pulling down the zipper in the front to reveal her pale breasts, then he'd take her nipple in his mouth and she'd moan for him and–

As soon as the front door was shut Sandor pulled out his cock and began to jerk off frantically. He imagined sweet little Miss Stark bouncing on his lap and whimpering his name. He came with a moan so loud he was sure anybody walking past his building would have heard it. 

While cleaning up this day's mess, Sandor decided not to go to his little spot in the woods that night. This shit can't be healthy, he thought as he scrubbed the carpet. Maybe I need to take a break.

—————————————————

Sandor's break didn't end up lasting long. Two days later he was in the woods again, and to his delight, Miss Stark was wearing her fox onesie, but this time the zipper was unzipped a third of the way, showing off a bit of cleavage. She was singing again, and Sandor desperately wished she would open the balcony door just a crack so that he could hear her. She had the body and face of an angel, so surely she must have the voice of one too. 

It seemed that little Miss Stark was trying to learn a song, because she kept staring at the sheet music and singing, before stopping and playing the song on her keyboard. Her face changed from serious to perplexed to annoyed to excited and back to serious again. After about an hour of this, she tossed the sheet music onto her couch. Then she grabbed a hair clip from her coffee table and used it to pin her hair up. She did a little stretch and a little dance, and she disappeared further into the apartment. 

Sandor was almost ready to give up for the night when the curtains that blocked his view into the bedroom opened. She pushed them to the side and gazed through the glass of the door at the trees above Sandor. Although it was definitely not meant in this way, Sandor took it as a sign to stay right where he was. 

The girl then went away again, leaving Sandor waiting for her excitedly. This was the first time he'd ever seen inside her bedroom, and it was as perfectly pink as the rest of her apartment. Through his binoculars, he could see a painting of a white flower hanging on the wall above her bed. Her bedroom was messier than his, but still wasn't particularly bad. A few articles of clothing were scattered around on the floor, as well as a striped throw blanket. She had a large floor mirror that leaned against the wall, and a punch of photographs were stuck to it with magnets. Sandor couldn't see what was in the pictures, but he guessed it was her family. 

Around twenty minutes later, the girl came back into the room. She now wore a red robe, and had clearly just gotten out of the bathtub. Her hair was still pinned up and looked dry, but her skin now looked dewy and extra soft. Sandor briefly wondered if she was the kind of girl who touched herself in the bath. 

Then, she untied the belt around her waist and shimmied the robe off of her shoulders. Sandor couldn't believe his eyes. That's my girl, he thought as the bathrobe hit the floor. She was standing right in front of the glass door, completely unaware that someone was staring at her from the woods below. And she was perfect. Her tits were everything he'd ever hoped for, and he could see himself burying his face in them. He desperately wished he could reach out and feel her curves. But the best and most surprising part was the bush of hair between her legs. It was red like the hair on her head, but a little bit darker. He thought about what it would be like to stick his tongue in her sweet cunt and have her writhe around in pleasure for him. 

Sandor couldn't control himself any longer. He quickly looked around to make sure nobody could see him, then with one hand he freed his cock from his pants, while his other hand held the binoculars. It was dark now, and he watched as Miss Stark stretched and yawned and reached up to pull the hair clip from her hair and let her red curls cascade down. She then walked over to her bed and flopped over on it. She was probably warm after her bath and wanted to cool down. She looked like a princess out of a fairy tale, waiting for her prince to come and wake her with true love's kiss. Sandor stoked himself and thought about climbing on top of her and kissing her neck, running his fingers through her hair, shoving his tongue in her mouth and his cock in her cunt. As he came, he thought about how it would feel to come in her, to come with her.

Now that he was done, he felt gross, and not just because he had his pecker out in the woods. He'd always had some shame about what he'd been doing, but now it was hitting him harder than ever. He wasn't a bad guy, so what was he doing, spying through a window and jerking off to a girl half his age? What the fuck is wrong with me? he thought. 

Sandor put his dick away and began his walk home. This beautiful girl, little Miss Stark, was taking over his mind.

And he wanted to let her. 

—————————————————

A few days passed by and Sandor managed to avoid the girl. Not that that was particularly difficult; all he had to do was stay home. Trying not to think of her was the truly hard part. Mormont called him at one point to tell him his services were needed, and the second Sandor's phone rang he hoped that the redhead's sink was broken again. And when Mrs. Tyrell needed help with her groceries again, Sandor hoped that the girl would see him and run up to him and fall into his arms.

Sandor had never been obsessed with anything before. He'd never cared about a TV show or book series the way he cared about a girl whose first name he didn't know. But he also thought that care was probably the wrong word – he was infatuated with her, in the least healthy way possible. He knew that a decent break from her would do him good, but it was painful. 

He knew little about this girl but he would have let her ruin him a thousand times over. The way she said his name echoed in his mind. Fuck, I'm pathetic, he thought to himself as he walked to building 5 to fix a broken light in the stairwell. 

Sandor reached his destination and set up his ladder. Because of his height, he only had to climb halfway up to reach the light bulb, and he was able to change the bulb quickly. As he came back down, he heard what sounded like an angel singing. He looked around, and there she was, his precious Miss Stark. 

She had probably just gotten home from work. She had probably had to park closer to Building 5 than Building 6, because the parking lot was oddly small for such an expensive complex. She had probably not realized that there was someone near to hear her as she sang on her walk to her apartment. 

But her voice was everything Sandor could have hoped for and more. He didn't know much about music, but thought what she was singing was most likely opera, but no matter what it was absolutely amazing. She was absolutely amazing. 

Once the girl's voice faded into the distance and was replaced by the chirping of nearby birds, Sandor picked up the ladder and headed back to his own apartment. He still felt guilty and gross for jerking off in the woods the other day, but it had felt extremely fucking good. Miss Stark was like a siren luring a sailor to his death, and Sandor was all too happy to follow her to the bottom of the ocean.

Once back at his apartment, he changed from his work clothes into his regular jeans and shirt and readied himself for a trek through the woods. Binoculars in hand, he set off from his apartment while thinking, I could be a lot worse. I could be taking pictures of her through her window. I just want to look and listen.

Sandor found himself practically jogging to his spot in the woods, hoping the girl would be singing with her balcony door open so that he could hear her. He knew there was a slim chance of that, considering the prissy little cat he'd seen her dancing with the week before, but he didn't deny himself the pleasure of hoping. 

Sure enough, Miss Stark was still singing, but her balcony door was closed. Nevertheless, she was in nothing but a T-shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants, and that was good enough for Sandor. In all his fantasies of her, he never pictured her in fancy lingerie or anything like that. He'd rather her in comfortable clothes, or, ideally, entirely naked. But there was something about seeing her in her pajamas that placed an ache in his heart. Somehow it was more intimate than seeing her in lingerie, or even nude. If she was in her pajamas with him, even her pink fox onesie, that would mean she was comfortable with him, comfortable with sharing her most intimate moments with him. Of course, having raunchy fantasy sex was pretty damn intimate, but having this woman enjoy his company was truly the dream. But he knew better than to expect a dream like that to come true. And he knew how pathetic he was, the way he'd gotten so riled up over her smiling at him after he fixed her sink. But some fantasies were never meant to become realities. 

Then the girl stopped singing. She seemed to think for a moment, then she wandered over to the balcony door and opened it, stepping outside. Sandor froze in panic, wondering if she'd be able to see him from there. She can't see me, he told himself, I'm too well hidden.

The girl paced around on her balcony for a minute, then leaned back against the railing, her hair cascading down the side like an auburn waterfall. Then she stepped away from the railing, only to move back toward it a second later. She looked over the side, then, her back towards the woods, she put her hands on the rail and hoisted herself up into a sitting position on the railing. She now balanced there, facing her apartment, her legs dangling just above the balcony floor.

Sandor had no idea what the girl was doing. This didn't look like a suicide attempt, but he couldn't think of many other reasons for someone to sit on a railing on a balcony by themselves. Maybe it's one of those dumb fucking challenges young fuckers do these days, he thought. Kids are fucking strange. Then he remembered why he was spying on this "kid" and decided to stop thinking about why she was sitting there, and just enjoy the view of her ass. 

Then, the girl lost her balance. Sandor watched in slow motion as she fell backwards, tumbling down to the grass below. 

Panic overcame him. From where he was stationed, he couldn't see her. But if he ran to check on her, she'd be wondering what he was doing in the woods looking at her apartment. 

Fuck it, he thought, as he dropped his binoculars and ran towards her. 

The girl was laying on her back on the ground, but as Sansor approached her he couldn't see any blood. She was groaning in pain as she tried to sit herself up. Sandor came up behind her, startling her slightly as he said in as gentle a voice as possible, "Hey, hey, try not to move."

"Sandor," breathed the girl. The way she'd said his name like he was her knight in shining armor would have made him a little bit hard if he wasn't panicking that she was seriously injured. 

"What hurts? What did you land on?"

"I flipped over," she said through jagged breaths. "I landed on my feet. I hurt my ankle." 

Sandor looked down at the girl's feet and saw that one foot was contorted at an unnatural angle. "It's broken. No, no– don't look at it." He put a hand on the girl's shoulder to stop her from sitting up. "I'm going to get you to a doctor."

The girl bit her lip. "Okay."

Sandor reached for his pocket, only to find that he'd left his phone in his apartment. He cursed under his breath before saying, "I'm gonna have you pick you up, okay?" 

After a frantic nod from the girl, Sandor reached underneath her and lifted her. He carried her bridal style to the front of the building then down the sidewalk towards his truck. Once she was in the passenger side, he got in the truck and they sped off.

The girl was crying in agony and Sandor was panicked. All he could think about was trying to remember the directions to the nearest emergency room. Luckily one wasn't too far away, and once they made it there he picked her up again and carried her inside. 

—————————————————

The next few hours were a blur. Sandor had been made to sit in the waiting room. He knew he didn't exactly have a calming presence, considering his size and his scars, but he hated that the girl didn't have a friendly face with her as the doctors examined and treated her. 

Eventually, a nurse wheeled Miss Stark out into the lobby in a wheelchair, a large black medical boot on her left foot. She smiled when she saw Sandor. 

"You okay?" he asked. 

"I should be, eventually," she replied. "I broke my ankle but it'll hopefully heal in a few weeks."

The nurse added, "She's very lucky that you were nearby when she fell. You saved her from injuring herself any further."

Sandor shrugged and said, "All in a day's work."

"You guys are good to go," said the nurse. "You'll get the bill in the mail in a week or so." The nurse then walked away, leaving the girl in Sandor's care.

The girl's blue eyes were on Sandor once again, and he could feel his unscarred cheek turn slightly red. "Thank you so, so much," she said softly. "I'll make it up to you."

"You don't have anything to make up to me, girl. I wasn't going to just leave you there."

"I'm just so glad you were walking past when I fell. I hope I didn't take you away from any of your responsibilities." 

Walking past? thought Sandor. God, this girl is innocent. "No, I wasn't doing anything important. I was just... birdwatching."

 As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. But to his surprise, Miss Stark only beamed. "Birdwatching? I love birds. There's a cardinal that comes and sits on my balcony sometimes."

"Is that what you were doing out there, trying to attract a cardinal?" 

The girl laughed. "No, I was practicing for my audition next month."

"Were you auditioning for the part of a baby bird falling out of its nest?"

"The local opera group is doing Romeo and Juliet. Juliet obviously has to be on a balcony, so I was trying to get myself used to singing up in the air." The girl sighed. "But it looks like I won't be getting the part now."

"There's always next time." 

"Yeah. I mean, maybe I can still audition. I can see the headlines now: Sansa Stark, world's first singer to play Juliet on crutches!"

Before Sandor could stop himself, he muttered, "Sansa." So that was the name of the girl he'd been jerking off to for months. Fucking shit, that's the name of the girl he'd been stalking for months. 

"Yep, that's me." Then the realization hit her. "Oh my goodness, you saved my life and you didn't even know my name! I'm such an asshole!"

"Don't worry about it," said Sandor, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Let's get you home."

—————————————————

On the short drive back to the apartment complex, Sansa talked Sandor's ear off, probably to distract herself from the pain she was no doubt feeling. The docs had given her some meds, but they definitely didn't make everything better. But on this drive Sandor learned that Sansa was from Winterfell, a town a few hours north of Casterly Rock. She'd moved in search of an opera career and was only teaching piano lessons in order to pay the bills, but she was no starving artist; her parents were fairly wealthy and very supportive of her dreams of operatic stardom. 

Luckily, a parking space had freed up near Building 6 and Sandor pulled in. Once he'd parked his truck and turned it off, he looked at Sansa and stated, "I'm gonna have you carry you up the stairs."

Sansa nodded. "Okay. I trust you."

Those three final words hit Sandor's heart in a way he didn't expect. She trusted him. This beautiful girl he'd been fawning over trusted him, because why wouldn't she?

Sandor went around to the passenger side and opened the door, before gently scooping Sansa up in his arms. The stairs were rather steep but he strode up them with the same confidence as always. Sansa's arms were around his neck as he unlocked her door with his master key, and she seemed to hesitate in letting him go when he set her down on her couch. 

"Thank you," she said meekly. "You've been so kind to me."

"I'm here to help," he replied with a shrug. 

"I'm so embarrassed, falling off my balcony while in my pajamas. I feel so pathetic."

"You shouldn't. Worse things have happened." He sat down on the other end of the couch. 

She anxiously twirled a strand of her red hair around her finger. "At this complex?" she asked, her voice full of sadness and hope. 

"Yeah. There was a guy who died here from autoerotic asphyxiation a few years back." 

Sansas eyes widened. "Nasty."

"You're telling me. I had to call that shit in."

"Well, at least you can't be embarrassed if you're dead."

"Maybe so." Sandor then found that he'd quickly run out of things to talk about. He'd never thought he'd be having a casual conversation with the object of his obsession, so he had no idea what to say to her. You're so beautiful it's ruining my life. I think about you all the time. You should probably get a restraining order against me. "I can go run to the nearest store and pick up some crutches and whatever else you might need." 

 Sansa's eyes welled with tears, hopefully of appreciation. "You've been so good to me already, you don't have to do anything else."

"It's not like you can go get shit," he replied, his words coming out harsher than expected. "Give me a list of things you want and I'll pick them up. I can give you my number and Mormont's personal number in case you need anything."

"My phone is on the counter – pass it to me and I'll text you a list. And I'll pay you back, I promise."

Sandor fetched the girl's phone and told her his number, then he was on his way. He was surprised that a girl that beautiful could be so unused to kindness. But then again, she saw him as a stranger, whereas he saw her as someone he owed penance to. 

As soon as he got in his truck, he received a text from an unknown number saying, "Hi! It's Sansa!" followed by a ridiculous amount of flower and heart emojis. A list of things she wanted from the store came shortly after.

—————————————————

When Sandor opened Sansa's door, grocery bags in hand, he saw her quickly wipe her eyes and force a smile. She'd clearly been crying, and he felt incredibly awkward standing there. 

After a moment, Sansa said, "Hi, sorry." 

"Are you okay?" 

"I will be," Sansa whispered through her sniffles. "I'm just... in a lot of pain."

"I've bought you extra pain meds." 

"Thank you. It's not just physical pain though, I'm so embarrassed and upset and disappointed that there's no way I'll get the part of Juliet and I feel like a burden on you and I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "You're not a burden, on me or anybody else. You're just in a shit position, but you'll get out of it soon enough."

"I hope so." 

Sandor went over to the kitchen to put away the ice cream he'd bought her. She didn't ask for any, but she looked like a girl who appreciated a good pint of mint chocolate chip. Then he went back downstairs to get her new crutches from his truck.

"Is there a way I can send you money?" Sansa asked when he came back to the apartment. 

"No." He leaned the crutches against the wall near the couch. 

"I probably have cash somewhere."

"Don't worry about it."

"You just bought groceries and medicine and crutches for me."

"It's fine."

"No, Sandor, it's not," she said. Sandor was surprised to hear her attempt at a stern voice, and his heartbeat quickened when she said his name. "I owe you." 

Sandor knelt down on one knee next to Sansa, who had propped herself up on her elbows on the cushy couch. "All I want is for you to rest and heal. Do you think you can manage that?" 

His words came out of his mouth a lot more intense than he'd wanted them to, causing Sansa to squeak out a tiny little, "Yep."

"Now, is there anything I can get for you?" 

"I have some flavored water in the fridge—"

Before Sansa could finish her request, Sandor was already at her refrigerator asking her, "Which flavor?"

"Lemon, please! It's the yellow one."

"I know what color lemons are, girl." When Sandor turned around, he saw her smile bashfully. He went back to the living room and handed her her drink. 

"Thank you," said Sansa. "I'll call my mom soon and tell her what's happened. I bet she'll want to come down here and help out."

"Might be a good idea. Then you won't have to put up with my ugly mug."

"Oh no, you're staying right here!" Sansa playfully demanded. "If you want to, of course. If you don't have anything better to do." 

"I definitely don't have anything better to do."

"Good! I mean, not good, but I'd really love it if you stayed with me."

Sandor didn't know what to think. He'd spent all his life being either feared or pitied. He had no idea why such a beautiful girl who had a family who loved her would want his company. Maybe she feels bonded to me because I helped her, or some shit, thought Sandor as he looked at the girl. Or maybe she's just in a fuckton of pain and she doesn't want to be alone. Sansa was staring up at her with big blue eyes, eyes bluer than any ocean, and he desperately wanted to jump in them and drown. 

He didn't realize he hadn't repsonded until Sansa asked, her voice just above a whisper, "You'll stay with me, right? At least for this evening?"

"Of course." 

"We can order some pizza."

"Sounds good to me." 

—————————————————

Pizza was ordered and delivered, and Sandor sat at the other end of the couch as they ate off of ceramic plates that had floral designs. He finally was able to take a moment and glance around her apartment as Sansa talked his ear off once again. After a while, her white fluffy cat came out of its hiding spot and came over and sat in between them. "Oh!" said Sansa. "Lady, meet Sandor. Sandor, meet Lady."

Lady gave Sandor a quick sniff before curling up into a ball and falling asleep. 

"She's a prissy little princess," Sansa continued. "Just like me."

"I wouldn't say you're prissy."

"Oh, but I am. For example, I've been talking nonstop and you haven't been able to say anything."

"I don't talk much anyway."

"You should talk more, you have a nice voice," she said, before immediately blushing. "I mean, you know, it's unique."

"I've been told my voice is scary." 

"It is! In a good way. Like a villain in a movie." 

Sandor couldn't help but laugh. "How is that in a good way?"

"Ugh, I need to stop talking, I keep embarrassing myself. But tell me about you." 

"You've only had a broken ankle for a few hours, you can't already be stir crazy enough to ask for my life story." 

Sansa frowned at him. 

"Fine, fine, but there isn't much to tell. My upbringing definitely wasn't as picture-perfect as yours. Abusive father, dead mother, abusive brother." 

"And yet, you turned out to be so sweet."

"You can call me a lot of things, but sweet isn't one of them." It made Sandor's stomach turn when he thought about what he'd been doing when he saw her fall from her balcony like an angel out of heaven. If she found out, she'd hate him, and rightly so. 

"I think you're sweet. You've helped me and Mrs. Tyrell. I bet you even get things from the top shelf for people at the grocery store."

"No, nobody ever asks me to." This was true, because Sandor looked far too intimidating for anyone to come up to. 

"But I bet you would if they asked."

"Probably not." When Sansa's smile fell, Sandor added, "But I probably would for you."

"So, you're almost sweet," joked Sansa. 

"Almost."

"I know I come across as naive, but I like to think of myself as optimistic. I want to see the good in everyone and everything."

Sandor smirked. "You weren't feeling so optimistic earlier."

"But now the meds have kicked in and I'm slightly better." She then yawned, and the image of Sandor shoving his cock in her open mouth flashed across his mind. "And slightly tired."

It was growing dark outside, and Sansa had been through quite an ordeal. Sandor stood up and said, "I'll let you get to sleep, then. Anything else you need from me before I go?"

"A new ankle."

"I can only do so much." 

 Sansa waved her hand at him. "You've done more than enough. Thank you so much, for everything."

"You have my number if you need anything. And I can check on you tomorrow morning, if you want me to."

"Yes, please."

"All right. See you then."

"Goodnight, Sandor," called Sansa as Sandor left. 

Sandor had never been in love before, but he did know that it was normally a two-way street. He didn't want to say to himself that he loved Sansa, but damn, he felt pretty close to it. She was perfect in every way: she was beautiful, bubbly, talented and ambitious. His heart skipped a beat every time those blue eyes were on him, and he was already addicted to her attention. 

As he got in his truck and drove the incredibly short distance between her building and his, he thought about how she looked at him like she wasn't afraid of him. She looked in his eyes instead of at his scars, and she didn't seem to notice how unworthy he felt to be in her presence. He was enamored with her, but he knew that she would never feel the same way. How could she? He was probably twice her age and practically twice her size, plus he was a grouchy old asshole, whereas she was the human embodiment of sunshine. And, of course, there was the fact of his half-scarred face, and the fact that even if he wasn't scarred he'd still be fuck-ugly. But even though Sansa acted like she didn't notice Sandor's scars, Sandor definitely did, and he knew he didn't belong next to someone like her. 

—————————————————

The next morning, Sandor knocked on Sansa's door and was immediately greeted by a sing-songy "Come innnnnn!"

Sandor opened the door and saw that Sansa was sitting on the couch, propped up by pillows, her cellphone to her ear. 

"He's here now, I'll talk to you later," Sansa said into the phone. "Love you too. Bye."

"Your mom?" asked Sandor as he placed a box of pastries on the coffee table. 

"My dad, actually," replied Sansa. "He's really glad someone was there to help me right after I fell, but he wishes it wasn't a big and brawny man."

Sandor smirked. "He's protective, isn't he?"

"Massively. I don't mind it, though. Except for when he tries to insist that I should have a big mean dog to protect me, when he knows I'm a cat person." 

Before he could stop himself, Sandor said, "You've got a big mean dog now. Me."

Sansa laughed. "I'll make sure to tell him that. But you shouldn't call yourself a dog." 

"It's an old nickname. Well, Hound is the nickname, and that's close enough." He sat down on the couch. 

"Why did people call you Hound? Because of your big puppy dog eyes?" 

"Puppy dog eyes?" laughed Sandor. 

"Yeah, has no one told you that you have puppy dog eyes?"

"Absolutely fucking not. And if someone had, they wouldn't have lived to tell the tale."

"Fine, is it because you've got a good sense of smell?" guessed Sansa, her eyes full of whimsy.

"I do have a fairly decent sense of smell, but no."

"Do you howl?"

"Do I howl?"

"Yeah."

"I don't even know how to answer that question."

"Well, why are you called Hound?"

Sandor shrugged. "Fuck if I know. When I first moved to this city fifteen years back, I worked as a bodyguard for a rich family. One of them started calling me the Hound, and it stuck."

"So it's because you're loyal." 

"Maybe so."

"Either way, you're probably a better guard dog than an actual dog. You're better at conversation, anyway."

Sandor chuckled softly. "So, are your parents coming to visit?" 

"No," replied Sansa, a forlorn look on her face. "My dad's busy, he can't leave Winterfell. My two older brothers are doing military stuff and the other three are still under 18, so they're not going anywhere."

"What about your mom?" 

"When my dad's busy, she's busy. Perks of being a politician's wife and all that."

"Politician?" 

"Yeah. He's running for mayor again." 

I've been playing a dangerous game, stalking a politician's daughter, thought Sandor. "You never told me your dad was mayor of Winterfell."

"That's one of the good things about moving to a new city, nobody knows you."

"Doesn't Winterfell have an opera thing? I bet they'd let you be Juliet, broken ankle and all."

"No, we don't have anything like that back home, but that's also the point. I want to be Sansa Stark, I want to be my own person. I don't want to be Mayor Stark’s daughter and be perfect all the time."

Sandor wanted to say, You seem pretty damn perfect to me, but he bit his tongue. "You want a pastry? I stopped by the bakery on my way here." He picked up the box and handed it to her. 

"On your way here? You live a five-minute walk from me, and the closest bakery is a ten-minute drive." 

"I might have taken a detour."

 Sansa laughed. "A very appreciated detour." She reached into the box and pulled out a lemon tart. "Oh, Sandor, you're the best! These are my favorites!"

Sandor had had no idea which were her favorites and had selected entirely randomly, but he accepted the compliment. "I try."

Sansa beamed and took a large bite out of the lemon tart. Her excitement for the food led to there being crumbs all over her chin, but she didn't seem to notice. 

"You're a mess, girl," said Sandor. Without thinking, he grabbed a napkin from inside the box and gently wiped at her chin with it. Only after she was cleaned up did he realize how intimate and wonderful that short moment had been, and he wished he had appreciated it more. 

But, because the gods seemingly never smiled on Sandor, Sansa's phone rang. 

Sansa took one look at her phone screen and her face lit up. She answered it with an excited, "Hey!"

The voice on the other end of the line was definitely male, but Sandor couldn't make out what he was saying. Sansa was grinning from ear to ear as she said into the phone, "I thought he said you couldn't come!"

One of her brothers? wondered Sandor. 

After a quick chat, Sansa hung up the phone. "He'll be on his way later today!"

"Who will?"

"My brother Robb. And he's bringing my sister Arya with him. You know, it's funny how much I miss her when we always fought like cats and dogs. Literally, sometimes. She's got a big husky who always liked to annoy my little Lady."

"How long will they be staying?"

"A week. I don't know where I'm going to put them, though. My extra bedroom is just for storage. I guess Arya will have to sleep in the recliner." 

"Well, you can always call me if they get on your nerves. I'm sure I can scare them off."

Sansa laughed. "They don't scare easily, especially not Arya. When we were kids she used to tell me ghost stories and I'd be awake all night."

"How old is Arya?"

"17. Two years younger than me."

That math was way too easy for Sandor to do. He was sitting in the apartment of a 19-year-old. He'd been obsessing over a 19-year-old. Sansa surely thought that he was doing a good deed by helping her, but he was only feeling worse and worse the more he learned about her. 

 Sansa continued, "As kids we would fight about every little thing. She made fun of me for being a 'girly girl' and I made fun of her for being a tomboy. If you look at us you'd never guess we're related."

"I wish I had that luxury. My brother and I practically have the same ugly face," said Sandor. "Except mine is scarred, obviously." 

"Don't call yourself ugly. You're not ugly."

"Sitting next to you, I am." 

Sansa's cheeks turned bright red. "You're too sweet." 

Sandor couldn't tell if she felt happy or embarrassed, so he quickly changed the subject. "Is there anything you need done around the apartment before your family gets here?"

"I have a basket full of dirty laundry, but I can't expect you to do that."

"I can if you want me to. How hard can it be, just dump it into the washing machine and press a few buttons?"

"When you put it like that, it does sound easy."

"Exactly. So where is the basket?"

"In my bedroom." 

Sandor felt like he was going to lose his mind. Her bedroom. He'd only seen that room once but he'd fantasized about it numerous times, long before he even knew what it looked like. He'd daydreamed about her giving him a sexy look and taking his hand and leading him to that very bedroom, where he would commence to ripping her clothes off and fucking her like there was no tomorrow. 

"Sandor? You okay?" asked Sansa. "I can probably talk Arya into doing my laundry if you don't want to."

Sandor hadn't realized he'd fallen silent. "I've got it." He stood up and headed to her bedroom. 

He opened the door slowly, as if something was going to jump out at him. The room was bathed in pastel pinks and pale yellows, floral designs and a strong lemon motif. A framed picture of a white rabbit hung on the wall. It was painfully cutesy, and very much Sansa. 

The pink basket sat in the corner of the room, next to her nightstand. A charging cord led from the wall into the drawer of said nightstand, and Sandor immediately imagined that there was a vibrator or something of that ilk hiding in there. A young woman like her has to have needs, he thought. I just wish she'd do it with the curtains open.

Sandor shook the inappropriate thoughts out of his head. Until Sansa's siblings got there, he was the one taking care of her, and he needed to control himself. One wrong thought, one wrong brush of hands as they both reached for pastries at the same time, and he'd be hard and she'd probably see it and panic. He didn't want her to think of him as a dirty old man, even though that's how he felt, and he especially didn't want her thinking he was only helping her out in return for something.

Sandor picked up the basket and took it to the small laundry room that was just off the kitchen. "No problems with your sink now?" he called to Sansa. 

"Nope, no leaks or anything," she called back. He could hear the smile in her voice. 

"Good. I pride myself on excellent service," he joked. He tossed the clothes into the washing machine, and fought off urges to sniff her underwear. Laundry detergent in, door closed, buttons pressed, thought Sandor as he went through the motions, trying to distract himself from his thoughts. 

As soon as the machine started, so did that awful rattling noise he'd heard back when he'd fixed Sansa's sink. He shut the laundry room door but it was still annoying. He tried to ignore it, and went back to the living room. But just as he got comfortable on the couch, his phone rang. 

"Fuck," he muttered as he took the phone out of his pocket. It was Mormont, of course, because nobody ever called Sandor except Mormont. Only three people had his phone number, and that was Mormont, one of the rich fuckers Sandor had been a bodyguard for, and Sansa. Sandor answered the phone with a quick, "Yeah?"

"Where are you? Your car's not in its usual spot."

"What are you, my owner?"

"There's been a power outage in Building 3. Meet me there in 10?" 

"Yeah." Sandor hung up the phone and looked at Sansa. 

"What's with the sad puppy dog eyes?" she asked. 

"I gotta go. Duty calls."

"The bathroom's that way," Sansa joked, gesturing to the door across from her bedroom door.

"There's a power outage in Building 3. I've gotta get home and get my shit together and go fix it." 

"Oh." Sansa seemed genuinely disappointed that he'd have to leave. "Well, I'll see you later, I guess." 

Sandor stood up. "If you need anything, call me." 

"I will." 

With that, Sandor was jogging back to his truck. He drove to his own apartment and changed into his work clothes, then grabbed his toolbox and headed to Building 3. Mormont was waiting out front. 

"You get a house call or something?" asked Mormont. 

"What?"

"Why were you driving from Building 6?"

"Why do you care?"

"Any maintenance requests have to be sent in through me. You know, for financial shit." 

"I was just doing somebody a favor. So which apartment is the problem?"

"All of them."

"Fucking hell."

"Yeah. So let's get to work." 

—————————————————

It took a few hours but power was eventually restored to Building 3, much to the enjoyment of its residents. Once he was done, Sandor headed in the direction of Sansa's apartments once more, his toolbox in his hand. He knocked on the door and when he heard Sansa welcome him in, he went inside.

To his immediate horror, Sansa wasn't on the couch. He looked over to the kitchen and there she was, balancing between her good foot and a crutch, trying to put leftover pizza into the microwave. Sandor put his tools on the ground and rushed over to her. "Hey, you need to be resting," he said. 

"I'm fine, I've got my crutches."

"You've got one crutch, so you're not fine. I'll finish the pizza." 

"Sandor–"

Before Sansa could protest any further, Sandor grabbed her by her waist snd picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder as gently as he could. He could have sworn he heard a giggle escape the young woman as he carried her over to the couch. He set her down where she had been that morning, and she said, "Well, at least heat yourself up some pizza too while you're at it." 

"Plan on it." Sandor went back over to the kitchen and set to work. 

"I see you're still on work mode," Sansa called over to him. Sandor looked over his shoulder and saw her pointing to his toolbox.

"Yeah, I came straight here. Didn't want to leave you here by yourself for too long, in case you got any bright ideas." 

"I made it over to the kitchen just fine, thank you very little," teased Sansa. "But it's fine. I do love a man in uniform." 

"My nasty work overalls hardly count as a uniform, but I'll take that as a compliment." 

"As you should!" 

"You're a funny little bird, aren't you?" 

"Little bird? Why, because I sing?"

"Yeah."

Sansa laughed. "The Bird and the Hound. We should start a band."

The microwave beeped and Sandor removed the pizza before bringing it over to Sansa. As he handed her the plate, he noticed a distinct lack of annoying rattling noise. "Is the laundry done?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I haven't moved it to the dryer yet."

"Good. You don't need to do that, I've got it." 

Before Sansa could protest, Sandor was in the laundry room again, pulling the wet clothes out and putting them into the dryer. Then he went back to the living room and picked up his toolbox.

"What are you doing?" asked Sansa. 

"Fixing your washing machine."

"I thought you weren't allowed to fix my washing machine?"

"What Mormont doesn't know won't hurt him. Just promise you won't sue me if I set it on fire or something."

"If my apartment burns down I think I have the right to sue," joked Sansa. 

"We will cross that bridge when we get to it. Enjoy your pizza." 

Sandor began to inspect the washing machine and immediately found the problem. Unfortunately, the issue would require a quick trip to the local improvement store, as Sandor didn't keep spare washing machine parts on him. He went into the living room and explained the situation to Sansa, who yet again looked disappointed to see him go. She must be lonely here, with no relatives to visit her, Sandor thought. She'll be all right once her brother and sister get here. 

"You have to let me pay you for the part and the service," insisted Sansa. 

"I don't have to do anything." 

"You're the nicest person ever, please let me pay you back." 

I'm only nice because I want to fuck you, thought Sandor. "How about you cook me dinner when you're feeling better? That would be a good enough payment."

Sansa smiled. "Sounds like a plan."

With that, Sandor left. He didn't expect his trip to be long, but every minute away from Sansa pained him. He zoomed to the store, through the store, and out of the store, making it back to the apartments in less than an hour. 

But when he knocked on the front door, he heard a man's voice say, "Who is that?"

He then heard Sansa reply, "It's just Sandor. Open the door for him, please."

The front door opened and Sandor was face to face with a young man who was obviously Sansa's brother. They looked incredibly similar, from the wavy red hair to the ridiculously blue eyes. Sandor remembered Sansa saying her older brothers were doing "military stuff," and aside from the fact that he had too much hair on his head to be active military, he looked the part. He was tall, though not nearly as tall as Sandor, and he looked like he worked out religiously. But his muscles looked like they were more for show than anything, and the grumpy look on his face told Sandor he was just as protective as their dad was. 

"I'm just here to fix the washing machine," said Sandor, "then I'll be out of your hair." 

Sansas brother allowed Sandor to come inside, but his eyes scanned over him, as if to determine if Sandor was a threat. It's a bit fucking late for that, he thought. She already trusts me, despite the fact that I'm probably the biggest threat she's ever known. 

"Sandor!" chirped Sansa in her usual sing-song voice. "That's my brother Robb, and this is my sister Arya." Sansa gestured to the short tomboyish girl sitting on the other end of the couch, who seemed to have a permanent scowl. Sansa had been right; she and her sister looked nothing alike. 

Sandor offered up an awkward wave and shuffled into the laundry room. Once the door was closed behind him, he could hear Arya ask, "That's the guy who saved you?"

Sansa scolded in a hushed tone, "Arya, be nice." 

"I'm surprised he saved you and brought you home. He looks like the kind of guy who'd kidnap you."

"Arya! He can probably hear you. And just because he's a little scary-looking doesn't mean that he's a bad guy. He's actually really sweet."

"How did he even see you fall? Where was he?" asked Arya while laughing. "Was he hiding in the woods spying on you?" 

"He was birdwatching."

Sandor could hear Arya cackle. "Him? Birdwatching? Oh, he was definitely spying on you."

Sansa probably shot Arya an icy glare, because the younger Stark stopped jabbering for a moment, and Sandor kept on working. He managed to replace the part rather quickly, but he almost didn't want to leave the laundry room and face the Stark siblings. 

He finally gathered up his courage and walked out, only to find that the siblings were lost in conversation. Despite his large stature and heavy footsteps, he was able to sneak to the door mostly unnoticed. Only when he closed the front door behind him did he hear Sansa's voice ask, "Sandor?"

He knew it wasn't right to just leave her without saying goodbye, but she didn't need him anymore. She had her family now, and, despite how genuine she seemed, she was probably only nice to him out of pity. 

Sandor was self-aware enough to know that nobody actually wanted to spend time with him. He did have a few beers with Mormont on occasion, but that was only because Mormont needed someone to whine to. Sandor knew that he only had himself to blame; he was horrendously grouchy and kept everyone at an arm's length. And most of the time his solitude didn't bother him at all, because he had always been a loner and all he really needed was his dog. But now that he'd had a small taste of domesticity with his girl, his Sansa, he found himself wanting more, even though he knew he wasn't made for that. 

He walked back to his apartment and shut the door behind him. His dog Stranger perked up at his presence.

—————————————————

Two weeks came and went, and Sansa's brother's car stayed parked in front of Building 6, meaning the two Stark siblings had extended their stay by a week. That was definitely a good thing, because Sansa had clearly missed them and she needed all the help she could get. 

Sandor walked toward Building 5, where a broken air conditioning unit waited for him. Summers in Casterly Rock could be brutal, and he knew he had to get there fast before the tenants melted. That would be a nasty clean-up job, he thought as he bounded up the stairs. We'd have to tear the whole building down if humans melted into the carpet, or else we'd never get rid of the smell.

It took a few hours to fix the AC unit, but Sandor did get it done, and he packed up his tools and left. On his way down the stairs, he saw a glimpse of a silver car speeding by. When he walked out to the sidewalk, he cast a glance down towards Building 6, where he saw that Sansa’s brother's car was now gone. 

He's probably going to the store or something, thought Sandor as he walked home. I would hope they're not heading back up to Winterfell and leaving their sister by herself. 

Sandor knew logically that Sansa could take care of herself. As delicate she looked, she was clearly resilient, considering how she was handling everything. She'd told him on the drive back to her apartment that the doctor didn't want her to go to work for a while, and she was upset and stressed by that, but she remained confident. Little did she know that Sandor was prepared to pay her rent if she couldn't. 

Sansa's brother's car didn't return that afternoon, nor the next day. Sandor pretended to himself that he wasn't watching but he was, and any time he had any reason to go around the complex he'd look for the silver car. It wasn't there, which annoyed him. He knew that Whatshisface and Whatsherface had lives to get back to, but he was concerned for Sansa. Didn't they understand how precious she was? How could they just leave her?

 Sandor tried his best to not think about Sansa for the next few days, but failed miserably. He hadn't been back to his spot in the woods since she'd fallen, which he guessed was probably good for his health, but he was missing her. She occupied his mind at all times. But, in fear that she secretly hated him and was glad to be rid of him, he didn't text or call her even though he could've. He knew she wouldn't answer anyway.

—————————————————

He woke up on a Thursday morning to his phone ringing. He answered it with a "Yeah?" 

"Miss Stark in 620 is having sink troubles again. She said she'd like for you to come check it out."

"All right." 

"She also said that she's definitely going to be gone today at her usual time, and that you don't need to worry. Not sure what that's supposed to mean."

"I'll head to her apartment at 10," said Sandor as he hung up the phone. He rolled back over in his bed, not even wondering where a girl with a broken foot would be running off to.

—————————————————

At 10, Sandor opened the door to Sansa's apartment, and to his surprise, she was sitting up on the couch, as if she was waiting for him.

"Sandor!" exclaimed Sansa. "How nice of you to join me."

One of Sandor's eyebrows shot up in confusion. "I was told your sink was leaking again."

"Well, I wanted to give you something but I didn't know which apartment is yours, and I didn't think you'd check your texts, so I thought I'd call you out here."

"Give me something?" asked Sandor. "I told you I don't want to be paid for helping you."

"Good thing I'm not paying you, then." Sansa used her crutches to stand up, and she leaned over to grab a white envelope off her coffee table. "Here you go."

Sandor hesitantly took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a card that said in gold writing, "You're invited!" 

"What's this?" he asked. 

"Open and see!"

Sandor did as he was told and saw, in Sansa's perfect handwriting, the words, "My place. Spaghetti. Friday at 5."

"This doesn't explain anything."

"You told me you wanted dinner as payment. I'm feeling better and my ankles not so bad anymore, so I've invited you for dinner!"

 Sandor shook his head. "Sansa, you don't owe me anything."

"Yes, I do. And by requesting dinner that day you pretty much already said that you'd come."

"Fine, I'll come." 

"Perfect!" Sansa beamed at him. "It's a date!!"

I fucking wish it was, thought Sandor. "But I don't have anything nice to wear." 

"So? I've been living in my pajamas for two weeks. Wear whatever."

"Okay."

"I mean, if you really don't want to come, you don't have to. I just want to show my appreciation to you."

"No, I want to come. I'll be there."

"Good. That makes me really happy." 

Sandor was anxious about this little dinner date, but he would have done anything to have Sansa smile at him. Besides, he thought, a little spaghetti never killed anyone. As far as I know. "So, your sink isn't leaking again?"

"Nope."

"Well, in that case, I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow." Sandor didn't really want to leave Sansa, but he desperately needed to wallow in self-pity and that was an action best done alone. 

"Yep!"

Sandor nodded and left, unsure whether to be excited or anxious about their little 'date.'

—————————————————

Sandor showed up at Sansa's apartment half an hour early, because he couldn't bear pacing around his apartment in his nicest jeans for any longer. His nicest jeans were just really the pair with the least amount of holes and stains that wouldn't come off. He thought about bringing flowers, but decided against it, because he didn't want to make things awkward. 

He knocked on the door, and could hear a loud gasp inside the apartment, followed by Sansa's sing-songy "Come innnnn!"

Sandor used his master key to unlock the door and stepped inside. Sansa was hopping around the kitchen on one crutch, humming as she cooked. She was wearing a red and pink dress, covered by a white apron that had strawberries embroidered on it. 

"I thought you might need some help in here," he said. 

"I've got this," said Sansa. "You can't help me cook or else I'll owe you another dinner." 

"That's fine by me. You shouldn't be cooking on one foot anyway," joked Sandor as he stepped into the kitchen. 

"And yet, I'm doing it flawlessly!" Just then, a timer went off and Sansa yelped, "My garlic toast!" 

"Let me," insisted Sandor. He grabbed an oven mitt off the counter, but it didn't fit on his large hand so he just held it as he opened the oven door. Using the mitt as a barrier between his hand and the pan, he pulled the pain out of the oven. 

"There's a potholder on the table you can put that on," said Sansa, gesturing to the dining area. Sandor followed her instructions and put the pan on the lemon-shaped potholder. "Now go sit on the couch and wait. I'm almost done here." 

Sandor sighed playfully and went to sit on the couch. It was a funny sight, seeing the beautiful Sansa frantically hopping around the kitchen, but Sandor couldn't even truly enjoy the humor of it because he was so worried she'd fall over.

Finally, dinner was ready, and Sansa allowed Sandor to help set the table. Once they were seated and food was served, Sansa looked to him and asked, "So, how've you been?"

"Bored. Haven't had any girls fall off balconies lately."

"Darn, I really thought I was going to set a new trend," joked Sansa. 

"Should have fallen off the front side of the building, then." 

"Yeah." Sansa's smile then suddenly fell, and she twirled her spaghetti around her fork. "So, what kind of birds do you normally see out here?" 

Fuck. This was clearly a test. Her sister's words must have been bothering her. Sandor didn't know shit about birds, but he knew he couldn't afford to fuck this answer up, so he tried to think of the names of different birds he'd seen around the complex before. "Uh, depends on the season. But I like looking for crows. And there's always seagulls around, and cardinals."

Sansa beamed. He'd passed the test. "I love cardinals. I've seen a few outside my window. I love their spiky little heads." 

Sandor tried to not breathe his sigh of relief too loud. "This spaghetti... it's really good."

"Thank you! I love to cook and bake but it's not as fun if you don't have someone to share the food with," said Sansa. "You're kind of my only friend around here. The only other person I talk to outside of work is the girl who owns that candle shop nearby."

"The blonde?"

"Yeah, her name is Daenerys. You know her?"

Sandor laughed. "I've never met her. But Mormont's got it bad for her." This was true, despite Sansa's incredulous look. Mormont had once gone to Dragonstone Candle Company to buy a gift for his teenage cousin, who would sometimes spend weekends with him in the summer, and he immediately fell head-over-heels for the silvery blonde woman who ran the shop. 

"She hasn't mentioned him, but we don't talk that much," said Sansa. "But some ladies have a thing for older men."

"I don't think he has a chance in hell, but he's probably the best customer she's got. He's always buying new candles from her."

"I did think the office smelled good the last time I was there."

Sandor nodded. "But I find it hard to believe someone as young, fun, and adorable as you don't have any friends around here."

Sansa blushed. "You think I'm adorable?"

Sandor hadn't realized he'd said that part out loud. "I just mean that it's strange you'd have to resort to hanging out with a big ugly fucker like me."

"No no no," scolded Sansa as she waved her winger at him. "You are not going to call yourself ugly in my apartment. Or else."

"Or else what?" teased Sandor. 

"Or else I'll..." Sansa clearly hadn't thought this through. "I'll make you stand in front of the mirror and repeat positive affirmations until you believe them."

"Then we'll be at it all night." 

"Fine by me. It's not like I've got anywhere to be for a while." 

Sandor chuckled. "You're a stubborn girl, you know that?" 

"Thank you, I try."

"When do you think you can go back to work?"

"In a few more weeks, I think. I mean, I can still play the piano because I didn't break my piano-playing foot, but the doctor said she wanted me to rest as long as I could. What am I even supposed to do by myself for a few more weeks?"

"Enjoy your time off. At least you're not on-call at all times."

"It would be weird to be an on-call piano teacher. I don't think there are piano emergencies, outside of cartoons."

"I can handle it if you fall off a balcony, but if a piano falls on you I don't think there's much I can do."

"Oh, come on, you're strong, you could definitely lift a piano off of me." 

"Wouldn't do much good if you were flat as a pancake," joked Sandor. "Besides, how do you know I'm strong? I could just be big." 

"You could lift me up with no problem."

"That could've just been adrenaline." 

"Sandor!" chided Sansa. "Why can't you accept a compliment?"

Sandor shrugged. "Because I'm not used to them, I guess."

"Then it is my sacred duty to get you used to them." 

"Don't get me used to something I'll never experience again."

Sansa's smile fell. "It breaks my heart that you have such a low opinion of yourself and such a pessimistic view of the world." 

"It's not pessimism, it's realism."

"That's what every pessimist says."

Sandor didn't know what to say. He had clearly upset Sansa and had no idea how to fix it. She stared down at her spaghetti, a disappointed look on her face. He thought for a moment, then slowly offered, "I've been thinking... I could build you a birdhouse."

Sansa looked up at him. "A birdhouse?"

"I could build a birdhouse and you could paint it. And we could hang it on your balcony."

"Will Mr. Mormont allow that?"

Sandor shrugged. "He'll have to. Or I'll threaten to go to the candle shop and tell that girl he likes her."

Sansa giggled. "You're evil."

"Yes, I am."

"I'd love it if you made me a birdhouse. But then I'd owe you another dinner."

"You wouldn't owe me anything, it would be a gift."

"Nope. I'd have to have you over for dinner again. Twice, actually. A dinner for you to deliver the birdhouse and another for you to hang it once I've painted it."

"If you insist."

"I do." Sansa seemed to think for a moment, then asked, her voice quiet, "Sandor, can I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

"If you were in Mr. Mormont's shoes and you were developing feelings for somebody, but you couldn't tell how they felt, would you still give it a shot?"

Without thinking, Sandor answered honestly. "No." 

"Oh."

"I might can scrap together a birdhouse by next week. And we could have dinner on Friday again."

Sansa grinned. "It's a date."

—————————————————

The two spent the rest of that night eating and chatting, until Sandor eventually wandered home, his head full of images of red hair and porcelain skin. Their dinner had almost felt like an actual date, not just a turn of phrase Sansa had haphazardly used, completely unaware of how besotted he was with her. 

It felt like a fairytale. She was the beautiful princess and he was the monster who wanted to steal her away from her castle. But when she fell, she'd looked at him like he was her knight in shining armor.

He had no idea why she wanted to spend time with him, but he knew he needed to take this opportunity to prove to her, and himself, that he wasn't the kind of gross asshole who jerked off in the woods. 

—————————————————

"Mormont."

Mormont looked up from the papers he was looking at at his desk in his office in the main building. "Clegane?"

"You got wood?" asked Sandor.

"Wood?" asked Mormont. 

"Wood to build a birdhouse with." 

"Build a birdhouse?"

"That's what I said," said Sandor. Mormont had a perplexed look on his face. "Do you have wood or not?"

"I do, in the storage shed out by the dumpster. Why are you building a birdhouse?"

Sandor sighed. "It's a long story."

"Does it have something to do with the amount of time you've been spending at Building 6?"

"Are you fucking tracking me?" asked Sandor. The stalker is now the stalked, he thought. 

"I'm not blind, Clegane. I could recognize you or your green truck a mile away and I've been seeing both heading in the direction of Building 6." 

"I've been birdwatching."

Mormont leaned back in his swivel chair. "Yeah, sure, bird watching. And I go to Dragonstone Candle Co for the candles."

"Fuck off, Mormont." Sandor turned around and left the building. 

—————————————————

Sandor gathered the wood from the shed and set it on the floor of his apartment. He stared at it for a few minutes before picking up a piece of wood, turning it over in his hands a few times, then tossing it back down to the pile. 

Maybe I should just go buy a birdhouse and say I built it, he thought. But he couldn't lie to Sansa like that. Besides, she deserved the best. Being a handyman, he already had all the necessary tools, but he didn't know where to start. 

At least I've got until Friday.

—————————————————

 Sandor showed up at Sansa's apartment thirty minutes early again, proudly holding a birdhouse. It wasn't perfect, but it was sturdy and mostly symmetrical, and was somehow a more intimate gift than flowers. 

Sansa called for Sandor to come in, and when he did, he found a similar scene to the week before, with her back to him as she hopped around in the kitchen. Today she wore a baby blue dress and an apron embroidered with lemons. She looks like a fucking 1950s housewife, thought Sandor. She's so fucking perfect.

"What's on the menu tonight?" he asked. 

"Crockpot meatballs and rice," she replied. "I know we had meatballs last week with our spaghetti, but this is different. And I never get to make them since they take around four hours in the crockpot, and I normally don't have the time."

"Now you have nothing but time."

"Exactly! I feel like you just get me, Sandor." 

Sandor walked over to the kitchen but stood out of her way. So lost in her cooking, Sansa didn't notice the birdhouse. "Normally when I cook, I put on music and I sing and dance, but I can't when I'm still on crutches."

"I'm sure there's a dance you could do with just one functioning foot."

"But those dances require a partner," said Sansa, as she finally turned around to face him. When she saw the birdhouse, her mouth fell open. "Holy shit! You built that for me?"

"I said I would, didn't I?" 

"It's amazing!"

Sandor chuckled. "Yeah, I guess it's not bad for my first time building one."

"Thank you so much, Sandor," said Sansa as she hopped over to him. "I can't wait to paint it."

"Painting it red will attract cardinals." Sandor only knew this information because he had Googled facts about cardinals in order to seem like an actual birdwatcher.

Sansa beamed as she took the birdhouse from Sandor. "It's perfect. Thank you." 

"All in a day's work."

"I knew, from the moment I first saw you helping Mrs. Tyrell with her groceries, that you were a big ol' loveable sweetheart just pretending to be a tough asshole." 

"No, I'm still an asshole." 

"No, you're not!"

"I'm definitely not lovable."

"Let's agree to disagree on that one. But I'm glad my intuition was right. The more I get to know you, the more I like you."

Sandor only smiled at her, fearing that he would say the wrong thing. Sansa put the birdhouse on the counter and went back to cooking. 

Soon the rice was done, as were the meatballs, and Sandor helped set the table again, before helping Sansa into her chair. "You're such a gentleman," she said.

Sandor thought, I wish I was half the gentleman you think I am. 

—————————————————

"And that's why I think it should be illegal to chew gum in public," said Sansa as Sandor helped her recline on the couch after dinner. He sat down at the other end.

"You make a compelling argument." 

"Of course I do." She tried to adjust her feet on the couch, then winced in pain. "God, my foot hurts."

"Healing takes time."

"I know, but I'm ready to dance! Sometimes I pick up my cat and dance around with her. She only hates it a little bit."

Sandor laughed. "You need a proper dance partner until you get better."

"Yeah. Do you dance?"

"Fuck no."

"I can show you!"

"Not a good idea." 

"Why not?"

"I've got two left feet. Two gigantic left feet. What if I stomp on you?"

"If you stomp on me, I get even more time off work. And if I die because I gambled on dancing, I'll still die happy."

"You're absolutely fucking ridiculous, you know that?"

"Someone's got to be. Dance with me, Sandor."

Sandor couldn't resist those hypnotic ice blue eyes. "We can try." 

"Good. Now help me up."

"Don't be so demanding, princess," joked Sandor as he stood and extended his hands to her. She took them and hoisted herself up. Unsteady without her crutches, she leaned against his chest as her hands found their way up his arms, across his biceps and to his shoulders. Every touch from her felt like a jolt of electricity shooting through his body, and the feeling of her breasts against his broad chest made his cock begin to hurt, but he tried his best to ignore all the nasty thoughts running through his mind. I have to pretend to be the gentleman she thinks I am, he thought.

"Okay, put your hands around my waist," said Sansa. 

Sandor did as he was told. 

"Now we just have to step around the room in a pattern and pretend there's nice ballroom music playing."

"We probably should have put on music before I helped you up."

"Too late now. Let's sway."

"Sway?"

"Like a branch in the breeze. Come on, birdwatcher, sway with me."

Sandor stepped to the side, and Sansa followed suit. "Walk around like you're walking around a square," she instructed.

Sandor stepped backward, and Sansa nodded her approval. He stepped to the side and then took a step forward. Sansa followed his lead with ease, like a professional. Sandor had no doubt that as the daughter of a local politician, she'd have to learn how to be as ladylike as possible. They continued this pattern in relative silence for a minute, until Sandor tripped.

Just like when Sansa fell from her balcony, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. A look of fear flashed on Sansa's face as both of them tumbled to the carpet. But luckily, she landed on top of Sandor.

"Are you all right?" asked Sandor. 

"Yeah. You?"

"I'm fine. I'm glad you landed on me. Can't have you breaking something else."

"Honestly, if I break something else just call me an Uber. You've been too good to me already." 

Sandor shook his head. "You'll need your guard dog with you."

"That's true." Sansa was laying on top of Sandor, and they were face to face, but neither of them made any effort to move. "You know, I've never really been particularly clumsy until I moved here."

"You're a Northern girl. I bet you're used to walking on snow."

Sansa laughed. "You're right." She adjusted herself so that she was propped up on one elbow, her hand supporting her head. Her face was right above Sandor's and her elbow was next to his ear. Her long red hair fell down and tickled his skin.

Sandor glanced down and saw the tops of Sansa's breasts squished up against him. Her dress wasn't extremely low cut, but it was low enough for him to see her cleavage, which he had been trying very hard to ignore. Sansa adjusted herself again, leaning over slightly. She smelled amazing, like lemons and something else he couldn't quite place, and her warmth was intoxicating. He would have gladly stayed in that moment forever.

"Sandor?" asked Sansa quietly.

"Yeah?" He looked to her face, to see that she was seemingly studying his. 

"If I ask if I can kiss you, would you say yes?" 

Sandor felt like he must have misheard her.

"What?"

"If you want to say no, that's okay. We can just pretend that my pain medication messes with my brain. Maybe it does, I don’t know."

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I would say yes."

Sansa beamed. "Good. So can I kiss you?"

"Yes." 

As soon as the word left Sandor’s mouth, Sansa leaned down, her lips meeting his slowly and gently. Sandor’s hands found their way to Sansa’s back, and he knew he had never been happier in his life. Sansa smiled against his lips, then lifted her head up. “Sandor?”

“Yes?”

“Is that a screwdriver in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

Sandor was petrified, but decided to take a risk and match her jovial manner. “A screwdriver isn’t nearly as thick.”

Sansa grinned. “Thought so.” Her hand was on his chest, and it snaked its way down, nearing the top of his jeans.

Sandor grabbed her hand and stopped her. “Don’t start something you can't finish, little bird.” 

“Who says I can’t?”

“I need a favor first.”

“Oh?”

“You have to let me thank you for dinner.” 

Sansa smirked. “And how would you do that?”

It’s now or never, he thought. “Let’s stand up.”

Sansa did as she was told, and once both of them were standing, Sandor picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, eliciting an excited google from her. He carried her to her bedroom, where her cat was curled up on the bed. When she saw him coming, the cat darted out of the room, and Sandor gently laid Sansa on her back on the bed. 

“How's your ankle?” he asked her. 

“Fine,” said Sansa. She was breathing heavily, and her eyes remained fixed on him. 

“Good.” Sandor then climbed on the bed to where he was right next to Sansa, leaning over her. She grabbed him by his hair and pulled him in for a kiss, which he enjoyed thoroughly, pushing his tongue inside her mouth like he’d always dreamed. She seemed surprised but didn’t pull away from him, and he took that as a sign to continue. He buried his face in her neck, nibbling gently, and he began to fondle her breast with one hand. She let out a small whimper and reached up, trying to pull the top of her dress down. He kissed her on the lips again, softly biting her bottom lip, and he slid his hand all the way down her body and up under her dress. He slid two fingers into her underwear to press against her, and to his delight, she was perfectly wet for him. 

Sansa broke from the kiss to whisper, “Take off my dress, please. If you want.”

“So polite,” Sandor said with a snicker. He helped her sit up a little more so she could pull the dress over her head and toss it onto the floor. Her bra came off next and was similarly discarded. Sansa tried to wiggle out of her underwear, but Sandor stopped her and growled in her ear, “Leave that for me.”

Sansa bit her lip and laid her head back on the pillow as Sandor crawled on top of her and scooted down the bed. He was too large to fit on her bed so he had to get off the bed and pull her by her bare thighs toward him, until his face was just above her crotch. Sansa shivered with excitement as he delicately pulled her underwear off of her. He gently eased the same two fingers as before into her, his thumb flicking her clit softly. She let out a gasp, which turned into a quiet moan when he pulled his fingers away from her and replaced him with his mouth. 

Sansa reached down and ran her fingers through his dark hair and when he pushed his tongue into her she arched her back. He brought one hand up to tease her clit with the thumb while his other hand reached up and grabbed a handful of tit. So fucking perfect, he thought as his lips kissed and lapped and sucked at her pussy. Sansa bucked her hips up reflexively, which only buried his face further into her. Her hand tightened around his head and her legs began to twitch, before she finally came in his mouth.

After a moment, Sandor sat back, still kneeling on the ground at the foot of the bed. Sansa was staring up at the ceiling, having clearly enjoyed what he’d done to her. Finally, she softly said, “Nobody’s ever done that before.”

“What? Licked your cunt?”

“That, too.”

“What, then?”

 Sansa propped herself up on her elbows so she could look at him. “Made me orgasm.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

”It’s true.”

Sandor crawled back onto the bed next to her, propping himself up so he was still above her. She was sweating, which made her body glow in the most entracing way. After months of daydreaming and fantasizing, he finally had the real thing, up close and personal. He could hardly believe it. “I live at 106 if you ever want more.”

“Definitely.” 

“I’ll even let you ride my face, once your ankle is healed.” 

“Ugh, Sandor, I’m obsessed with you.”

You have no idea what obsession is, he thought. He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. “Anything else, princess?”

“Yes,” said Sansa as she looked up at him, her icy blue eyes staring into his soul. “I want to finish what I started.” He then felt her hand caressing him through his jeans. 

Sandor kissed her on the lips and reached down to unzip his pants. Soon he was pulling them down along with his boxers,  and he immediately felt her slender fingers around him, pulling and twisting. Her hand felt amazing, better than he’d ever dreamed, but he still couldn’t resist the urge to moan, “Spread your legs.”

Sansa opened her legs for him and he slid on top of her. Her soft pale skin was a stark contrast to his rough hands as he cupped her breasts, then grabbed her by the hip and positioned her how he needed her. Bracing himself on her white headboard, he kissed her collarbone and angled his cock against her, before easing himself inside her. She gasped loudly as he entered her, but the initial look of pain on her face faded away as she began to grind around underneath him. Her leg with the non-broken ankle wrapped around his hips, locking him to her, and he shoved in deeper, rocking back and forth. Her moans were the prettiest sound he’d ever heard and they grew louder and louder as he pushed into her. Her cunt was warm and tight around his cock, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. He came into her with a loud grunt, filling her up with his seed like he’d always imagined. But she kept grinding against him, bucking her hips, so he didn’t pull out of her. One of her hands scratched across his back while the other pulled his hair, and it felt as if she was pulling him in as close as humanly possible. Finally, she orgasmed again, a gentle sigh escaping her lips.

Sandor rolled off of her. “Sansa–”

“I love the way you say my name.” 

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“Do you wanna stay the night?”

Sandor looked over at the stunning woman beside him. “More than anything, little bird.”

#sansan #sandor x sansa #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x sansa stark #sansa stark x sandor clegane #sansan fanfic #game of thrones #got fanfic #my writing #my sansan #my fanfic #asoiaf

[esther-dot]

I really hated Lyanna Mormont character in show. Everyone called her badass for showing Sansa her place when she mocked Sansa for her rape and dissing feminine qualities. And people think we are unfairl to a 12 yrs old. I can't enjoy her character any further. Though the actress did the fine job.

I understand how TIRED everyone was when she was dismissive of Sansa. D&D weirdly went out of their way to make everyone treat Sansa like crap in the later seasons, Lyanna, Bran and Arya in s7 (some redeeming moments in s8 tho)...It all went towards justifying the irrational hatred the fandom had for Sansa, and considering the horrible things they were saying at the time (really really nasty shit) I understand just being turned off by it all. I have reblogged show Lyanna critical content because people view her comments to Sansa as a sign of D&D's sexism and therefore, how she is written is worth criticizing.

Something about grouchy little kids makes me laugh tho which is a problem when attempting to explain that what they did is bad. 😂 In one of my fics I had Lyanna get with Rickon, because the idea of those two together made me smile (link). So, I understand the criticism and your feelings, I agree that D&D went out of their way to deny the value of Sansa’s interests and skills, it is especially galling that they propped up every other female as they demeaned our girl, but I personally still enjoyed Lyanna. 🫣

#dot chat #also she had a very satisfying crunch when she died. a weird thing to say perhaps but it must be said! 😂 #of that entire episode her death was the moment that’s stuck with me most vividly #even more so then the death of the night king 😳

[gendrie]

Aly naming Arya queen of the north while in braavos. She could also be the reason Arya finds out about Jon.

Arya later reunites with her mother and claims Robb’s crown. Being a temporary “King of the North” until giving it to her brother.

dont think it didnt cross my mind lol. maege was one of the first to throw her mace down and call robb the "king of winter” and lyanna made it clear that house mormont is standing by the starks - believing them the rightful rulers of the north. so yeah, i really cant believe its totally meaningless that grrm placed aly in this storyline where she’s going to likely cross paths with arya. elsewhere: maege, lyra and jorelle have robb’s will too which will name jon his heir. im connecting the dots!

everyone downplays(/ignores) arya’s potential role in the “stark succession crisis” as if her name wasnt the one most recently used to stake a claim on the north. as far as a lot of people are concerned arya stark is the heir to the north. including but not limited to the northern houses that joined stannis to save “the ned’s girl” and aly mormont was among them.

that whole crew en route to the wall on their way to braavos is going to show up with some insane info: jon is dead, the boltons have winterfell, "arya" was married to ramsay to claim the north, jeyne endured horrible abuse at his hand, ect. theres plenty of sources for arya to find out what she needs to know: jeyne, justin, aly, and tycho. im sure this will be all over the city one way or another.

and then arya will proclaim her identity in braavos for all to hear. no more hiding behind masks and false names. arya will be ready to become arya stark again and assume the responsibilities that come along with it.

#ask #arya is the only stark child who doesnt think #''oh im the heir now'' but that might change in twow #ofc this depends on whether or not bran gets thru to her too

[florbelles]

— OCS & OTHER CHARACTERS.

tagged by @corvosattano​, @nightbloodraelle​, @leviiackrman​, @adelaidedrubman​, @denerims​, @fourlittleseedlings​, @minaharkers​, @strafethesesinners​, @playstationmademe​, @ishwaris​, @shegetsburned​, @aartyom​ & @gwynbleidd​, ty beloveds!!

sending tags on to @unholymilf (>:((), @henbased (>:(((), @belorage, @jendoe, @phillipsgraves, @chuckhansen, @queennymeria, @poetikat, @derelictheretic, @purplehairsecretlair, @strangefable, @arklay, @morvaris, @noonfaerie, @jackiesarch, @risingsh0t, @roberthouses​​, @confidentandgood, @indorilnerevarine, @shellibisshe,  @blissfulalchemist​, @nuclearstorms, @reaperkiller, @steelport, @nokstella, @shallow-gravy, @cybilbennettgf​ (i am sorry i forgot you moved & was like wait where’d she go) & anyone else can @ me xx (for real the brainfog is strong today so if i missed you please take this as a tag anyway)

rules (via @corvosattano​). take this quiz and share 5 (or more! or less! the world is your oyster!) results from the top 50 that you feel really fit your oc(s). if you don’t recognize very many from the top 50, feel free to expand into the top 100.

(actual influences & inspirations that made the list are italicized).

holly golightly (breakfast at tiffany’s)

villanelle (killing eve)

anna karenina (anna karenina)

love quinn (you)

ciri (the witcher)

honorable mentions. audrey horne (twin peaks), mia wallace (pulp fiction), lucifer morningstar (lucifer), cheryl blossom (riverdale), oberyn martell (game of thrones) (awks because of the eye cutting stuff.)

lady macbeth (macbeth)

cersei lannister (game of thrones)

joan holloway (mad men)

serena joy waterford (the handmaid’s tale)

beth harmon (the queen’s gambit)

honorable mentions but they’re increasingly unhinged. nina sayers (black swan), alice cooper (riverdale), leland palmer (twin peaks), the wicked witch of the west (the wizard of oz), the queen (snow white and the seven dwarfs), joe goldberg (you) (?????)

sterling archer (archer) (this was 95%. by the way.)

don draper (mad men)

logan delos (westworld)

jay gatsby (the great gatsby)

roman roy (succession)

honorable mentions but they’re increasingly unhinged. john willoughby (sense and sensibility) (this one probably belongs in the top five but logan & roman were funnier), jaime lannister (game of thrones), neal caffrey (white collar), james bond (tomorrow never dies), count alexei vronsky (anna karenina) (uncomfortable), regina george (mean girls), haley dunphy (modern family), lindsay bluth (arrested development)

davos seaworth & jorah mormont (game of thrones)

friar laurence (romeo and juliet)

charlie strong (peaky blinders)

samwell gamgee (lord of the rings)

honorable mentions. pete martell (twin peaks), little jon (robin hood), ben scott (yellowjackets), jon snow/samwell tarley/brandon stark all tied for some reason (game of thrones), jane eyre (jane eyre)

maeve millay (westworld)

daenerys targaryen (game of thrones)

vi (arcane)

yennefer of vengerberg (the witcher)

mazikeen (lucifer)

honorable mentions. freddie lounds (hannibal), tyler durdan (fight club), fleabag (fleabag), fiona gallagher (shameless), hiram lodge (riverdale) (mija she owns that dam), freddy krueger (a nightmare on elm street), the alien (alien)

dr. bedelia du maurier (hannibal)

shiv roy (succession)

sansa stark (game of thrones)

mel madara (arcane)

rose dewitt bukater (titanic)

honorable mentions. betty draper (mad men), dana scully (the x files), claire standish (the breakfast club), skyler white (breaking bad), lana kane (archer), jackie taylor (yellowjackets), margaery tyrell (game of thrones), betty cooper (riverdale), princess leia (star wars), lucille bluth (arrested development)

#well. that was. that was really smth #oc: lyra fairbanks #oc: isabela fairbanks #oc: lawrence fairbanks #oc: shaggy #oc: jocelyn peralta #oc: lillian fitzgerald

[what-do-1000-swords-look-like]

How the Show Gave Sansa 'What She Really Wants' & How the GA Got It So Wrong - The Dialogue Already Proved What Sansa Wanted

This post got really long

Lord Glover: "We did not choose you to rule us, my Lady. But perhaps we should have."

Lord Royce: "The Knights of the Vale came here for you, Lady Stark.

Sansa: "You're very kind, my lords. But Jon is our king. He's doing what he thinks is best."

Sansa: "I warned Jon this would happen. That he couldn't leave the North and expect it to just sit and wait for him like Ghost."

Arya: "He didn't. He trusted you to hold it for him."

Sansa: "Well, he's not making it easy. The Northern lords are proud."

Arya: "They were insulting Jon and you just sat back and listened."

Sansa: "I listened to their complaints which is my responsibility as Lady of Winterfell."

Sansa: "Winterfell didn't just fall into our hands. We took it back. And the Mormonts, and the Hornwoods, and the Wildlings, and the Vale. All of us working together."

Arya: "And if Jon doesn't come back, you'll need their support. So you can work together to give you what you really want."

Sansa: "How can you even think such a horrible thing?"

Arya: "You're thinking it right now. You don't want to be. But the thought just won't go away."

Sansa: "I came here everyday when I was a girl, prayed to be somewhere else. Back then I only thought about what I wanted, not about what I had. I was a stupid girl."

Sansa: "It's a pretty picture." *then she walks away*

Littlefinger: "I want you to be happy. I want you to be safe."

Sansa: "I am safe. I'm at home surrounded by friends. I have Brienne to protect me from anyone who would harm me."

Littlefinger: "What about happy? Why aren't you happy? What do you want that you do not have?"

Jon: "You're defending her? You?"

Arya: "I'm defending our family. So is she."

Jon: "I'm her family, too."

Arya: "Don't forget that."

Sansa: "What about the North? It was taken from us and we took it back. And we said we'd never bow to anyone else again. What about the North?"

Sansa: "That doesn't mean I want to kneel to someone--"

Arya: "We're family. The four of us. The last of the Starks."

Jon: "I've never been a Stark."

Sansa: "You are. You're just as much Ned Stark's child as any of us."

Jon: "She's everyone's queen now."

Arya: "Try telling Sansa."

Arya: "Jon. She knows who you are. Who you really are. You'll always be a threat to her. And I know a killer when I see one."

Tyrion: "Do you think I'm the last man she'll execute? Who is more dangerous than the rightful heir to the Iron Throne?"

Tyrion: "Why do you think Sansa told me the truth about you? She doesn't want Dany to be queen."

Jon: "She doesn't get to choose."

Tyrion: "No. But you do. And you have to choose now."

Sansa: "Jon will be Warden of the North so a good relationship seems likely."

Tyrion: "I don't expect him to spend much time here going forward."

Tyrion: "With Jon in the Capital, you'll be the true power in the North."

Sansa: "What are you worried about? Jon's taking our army with him, your queen still has her dragons--"

Tyrion: "She's your queen, too."

Sansa: "I don't want Jon to go down there. The men in my family don't do well in the Capital."

Tyrion: "No, but as your brother once told me, he's not a Stark."

*cue Sansa's "hating Jon and wanting the Northern power for herself" expression*

6x10 forehead kiss scene:

Jon: "I'm having the lord's chamber prepared for you."

Sansa: "Mother and Father's room? You should take it."

Jon: "I'm not a Stark."

Sansa: "You are to me."

8x01 Sansa solar scene:

Sansa: "You didn't tell me you were going to give up your crown."

Sansa: "Did you bend the knee to save the North? Or because you love her?"

7x02 Jon accepts Dany's invitation:

Sansa: "Have you forgotten what happened to our grandfather? The Mad King invited him to King's Landing and roasted him alive."

Sansa: "She is here to reclaim the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms. The North is one of those Seven Kingdoms. This isn't an invitation, it's a trap."

Jon: "I know it's a risk but I have to take it."

Sansa: "Then send an emissary, don't go yourself."

Jon: "Daenerys is a queen. Only a king can convince her to help us. It has to be me."

Sansa: "You're abandoning your people. You're abandoning your home."

Jon: "I'm leaving both in good hands."

Sansa: "Whose?"

Jon: "Yours. "

*cue Sansa's "power hungry" expression*

Jon: "You are my sister. You're the only Stark in Winterfell. Until I return, the North is yours."

7x03: Sansa & Bran in the Godswood:

Sansa: "I wish Jon were here."

Sansa: "You're Father's last living trueborn son. You're Lord of Winterfell."

7x04 Arya and Sansa reunite in crypts:

Arya: "Jon left you in charge."

Sansa: "He did. I hope he comes back soon. I remember how happy he was to see me. When he sees you...his heart will probably stop."

Sansa: "How did you get back to Winterfell?"

Arya: "Long story. I imagine yours is, too."

Sansa: "Yes. And not a very pleasant one."

Arya: "Mine either. But, our stories aren't over yet."

Sansa: "No, they're not."

8x06 Starks saying goodbye:

Sansa: "I wish there had been another way. Can you ever forgive me?"

Jon: "The North is free thanks to you."

Sansa: "But they lost their king."

Jon: "Ned Stark's daughter will speak for them. She's the best they could ask for."

*cue Sansa's "I won" and "power hungry" expression*

Sansa: "Where's Jon?"

Greyworm: "He is our prisoner."

Sansa: "So is Lord Tyrion. They were both to be brought to this gathering."

Greyworm: "We will decide what we do with our prisoners. This is our city now."

Sansa: "If you look outside the walls of your city, you will find thousands of Northmen who will explain to you why harming Jon Snow is not in your interest."

Asha: "I swore to follow Daenerys Targaryen."

Sansa: "You swore to follow a tyrant."

Asha: "She freed us from a tyrant. Cersei is gone because of her and Jon Snow put a knife in her heart. Let the Unsullied give him what he deserves."

Arya: "Say another word about killing my brother and I'll cut your throat."

8x06 Jon and Tyrion 2nd jail cell scene:

Tyrion: "Sansa and Arya wanted you freed but they understand our new king needs to make peace. No one is very happy."

8x06 Sansa asks for Northern independence:

Sansa: "I love you, little brother. I always will and you'll be a good king. But tens of thousands of Northmen fell in the Great War defending Westeros. And those who have survived have seen too much and fought too hard ever to kneel again. The North will remain an independent kingdom. As it was for thousands of years."

*cue Arya's "That power hungry bitch, I knew she wanted to rule all along, I'mma get her" expression*

Sansa didn't want power. Sansa didn't want the Iron Throne or to even rule the North. She wanted her home (aka Winterfell/the North/safety), her family's safety (including Jon), and she wanted the North to be independent. The only power she wanted was to ensure that what happened to their family never happened again, to their family or to any other Northern family. And to herself. She respected Jon and knew he would be a good ruler, before she found out the truth of his parentage. His bastard status or their childhood relationship (or lack thereof) didn't matter to her in the least.

Jon: "Do you think I'm Joffrey?"

Sansa: "You're as far from Joffrey as anyone I've ever met."

Jon: "Thank you."

Sansa: "You're good at this, you know."

Jon: "At what?"

Sansa: "At ruling."

Jon: "No."

Sansa: "You are. You are. They respect you, they really do, but you have to-- Why are you laughing?"

She wanted his respect in return and for him to listen (not because she thought she was the smartest person on the planet but because she had valuable advice/input that could help him and them all), both of which she got. She didn't want to be the one who rules them all. That was Dany. Her motivations were similar to Cersei (both wanting to protect their families) but her intentions were different. She never wanted a crown, only assurance of their safety as well as hers.

Everything she did in season 7 after his departure was to ensure Jon didn't lose his army for the upcoming battle with the Night King.

Sansa: "Glover has 500 men. Royce has 2,000. Offend them and Jon loses his army."

When Bran came back, she was immediately willing to give the regency over to him. When he didn't want it (because, you know, that whole 3ER thing that apparently went poof in 8x06), she continued doing what she could to make sure Jon's army and the Northern people continued being ready for the battle. And she did it well.

Littlefinger: "Command suits you."

Sansa: "As soon as we heard about The Wall, I called all the banners to retreat to Winterfell. Lord Umber, when can we expect your people to arrive?"

Ned: "We need more horses and wagons, if it please my Lady, and my Lord, and my Queen. Sorry."

Sansa: "You'll have as many as we can spare. Hurry back to Last Hearth and bring your people here."

(cue Sansa's talk with Royce about keeping the gates open to the last possible moment so people could still come in from the countryside before the Dany and Sansa convo in 8x02 in the library)

She even refused to abandon her people (aka her family since Jon, Arya, and Bran were all going to be in the battle) when the NK's army came, until Arya arms her and tells her to get into the Crypts. And once in there, Sansa accepts that there is nothing more she can do since she is not trained to fight. "The most heroic thing we can do is look the truth in the face." And when the dead start rising, she eventually fights them with Tyrion (though they cut the scene after they shot it, because apparently Dany, Arya, Alys, and Brienne, and Jon, Jaime, Theon, and Greyworm, were the only ones allowed to be considered heroes in this episode) to try to save who is left as well as themselves.

When Littlefinger threatened her family (both Bran and Arya, then Jon by extension), she took action and eliminated the threat while keeping part of Jon's army for him.

Arya: "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Sansa: "It's not what I want. It's what honor demands."

Arya: "And what does honor demand?"

Sansa: "That I defend my family from those who would harm us. That I defend the North from those who would betray us."

When she realizes that Jon manipulated Dany into going North to help fight the NK (and save her "people"), she then immediately switches into friendly mode and tries to ascertain if the North (and the Starks/Jon) could be free.

She didn't want Dany dead; she wanted to avoid having another tyrant in power. She had already experienced Joffrey and Cersei. She didn't want to submit to anyone else's rule ever again so she and her family (and the North by extension) would be safe. The 7x01 conversation she and Jon have about the NK being the enemy to the North and Cersei being the enemy to the South very clearly indicates that the North/Winterfell (and hence, the Starks) are caught in the middle of both conflicts (and this is right after Jon has received Tyrion's scroll to join Dany's fight against Cersei, so now they're in the middle of that one, too, no matter how they answer).

She didn't tell Jon's secret to Tyrion to get Jon killed or to kill Dany or to just cause chaos. She did it to save Jon's life (and to get him back home with his crown restored). She didn't know what would happen to KL or how Jon would be forced to choose to end Dany's tyranny in that way.

Littlefinger: "One of two things will happen. Either the dead will defeat the living in which case, all our troubles come to an end. Or life will win out. And what then? Don't fight in the North, the South. Fight every battle everywhere, always. In your mind. Everyone is your enemy. Everyone is your friend. Every possible series of events is happening all at once. Live that way and nothing will surprise you. Everything that happens will be something that you've seen before." (this is what Sansa gleaned the most from Littlefinger and this is exactly what she does in the last season and in season 7 after this convo takes place - and funnily enough, right after this, Bran arrives back home, Bran who is now the 3ER and knows 'every possible series of events is happening all at once' and 'everything that happens will be something that you've seen before')

She literally

Defended

Her Family (and the North)

It's no surprise that she ended up being named Queen in the North (after Jon was not allowed to be restored to any titles)

Bonus:

Sansa's "power hungry" and "jealous" expression she exchanges with Littlefinger when Jon is named KitN and she sees how unhappy Littlefinger is at this turn of events (after he revealed he wants the IT with her in the Godswood scene):

#sansa stark #got #game of thrones #gotposts #sansaposts #sansa stark meta #metaposts

[queenaryastark]

Many Arya fan have written in great detail about her possible meeting and friendship with Dany, but do you have headcannons for what the meetings/friendship with other female (Meera, Brienne, one of the Mormont siblings, Shireen etc) would be like ? Even if you don't think they will actually meet.

Hi there! I really like the idea of Arya continuing to form positive relationships with other girls and women. There's probably so much content about Arya/Dany because they're the two female leads of the series and will likely have to work together on some level during the Battle for the Dawn. But yes, there are lots of other women Arya can befirend:

Arya/Meera: If they meet, they'll be besties. Arya and Meera have a lot in common as both of them served as leaders and protectors of their traveling groups. Seeing a confident lady who doesn't change herself to fit into the patriarchal ideal of femininity and whose feminine expression is closer to Arya's own will help Arya see that there is nothing wrong with who she is. If they meet, Meera will definitely be a great role model and cool big sister type for Arya. And it goes without saying that she’ll adore Meera for how well she has protected Bran all this time.

Arya/Brienne: Their dynamic would be very similar to Arya/Meera with another lady being an example of a different type of lady from the one Arya grew up being pressured to be. Though Brienne would have the added layer of being a knight. While Arya doesn't want to be a knight, she idealizes them like her siblings do: "Hot Pie was being silly; it wouldn't be ghosts at Harrenhal, it would be knights. Arya could reveal herself to Lady Whent, and the knights would escort her home and keep her safe. That was what knights did; they kept you safe, especially women. -- Arya IV, ACOK. So while Arya has seen several knights who have been monsters, Brienne would be the type of knight that fits the ideal Arya was raised to believe in and just might help her get home. I always found it interesting that Brienne is on Arya’s trail and doesn’t fully realize it. I've also thought of an AU where Brienne tries to help Arya get home after AGOT instead of her traveling with the NW. Brienne/Arya would basically be a female Dunk & Egg, which would be fun.

Arya/Arianne: The Short Queens. Throughout her chapters, Arya has befriended and admired all types of women. If they were to meet, she would easily admire Arianne despite how different they are. As a woman who seeks to wield power in her own right and takes assertive action through her intelligence, she is absolutely someone Arya would like and respect. She also happens to be the descendant of one of Arya’s heroines, Nymeria of Ny Sar. I could see an AU where Arya stays in KL and escapes with the Dornish party at the end of ASOS, bringing her to Sunspear where she can bond with Arianne and learn a great deal from her. As it stands now, both have similarities in how they have to out think their opponents given their lack of physical strength and use their ability to make friends to achieve their goals.

Arya/Sand Snakes: Even more descendants of Arya’s favorite heroine, she would absolutely love the Sand Snakes. Each of them is a different example of womanhood, with their own strengths, weaknesses, and different personalities. Arya is currently learning poisons and knows how to put on a performance like Tyene, keeps hidden weapons like Lady Nym, is a horse girl like Elia, disguises herself as a boy to get around gendered restrictions and is intelligent like Sarella, and wishes for justice like Obara. There’s definitely something in each of the ones we know about that Arya would connect with.

Arya/Missandei: These two kids have gone through so much tragedy and continue to persevere. Missandei is one of the most intelligent character in the series, knowing several languages and being able to recite customs and laws from various cultures. She’s also able to apply that knowledge and a guileless persona in government meetings and in war strategies. As another kid dealing with adult situations, I don’t see how Arya can do anything but admire her. I hope they meet and bond in the coming books. If Dany stops by Braavos on her way to the Wall, Arya can join them and befriend Missandei.

Arya/Mormont Women: Arya was pressured to conform to patriarchal standards by misogynistic women and girls who uphold the patriarchy, which resulted in her developing a negative self-image. Had she been fostered on Bear Island with the Mormont ladies, she would have been able to be who she is and develop a healthier self-image. We see how the Mormont women handle themselves confident in who they are as women and capable of wielding administrative, political, and military power. They could be great role models and friends for Arya in the coming books. The women who survive are actively involved in the Norther political plots, which Arya is at the center of -- though she doesn’t know it yet. I can see them supporting her and being a great influence on how she gains confidence in her own femininity. 

Basically, Arya developing positive female relationships is a must. I already appreciate that GRRM has given her girlfriends in Braavos, but it definitely needs to continue beyond her training montage in that city. 

#arya stark #meera reed #brienne of tarth #arianne martell #missandei of naath #house martell #house mormont

[sherlokiness]

It makes Jon super dark if he makes a marriage arrangement for Arya. I really hope he doesn't do that.

Hi, anon. Thanks for the ask.

I think Jon is gonna fuck Dany for her dragons while being in love with his sister, anon. That already makes him a vile bastard, objectively speaking. Subjectively he can be excused since he would be doing it to calm a volatile tyrant like Dany while his feelings for Sansa isn't gonna really harm her.

She had made Hizdahr her king, taken him into her bed, opened the fighting pits for him, he had no reason to want her dead. Yet who else could it have been? Reznak, her perfumed seneschal? The Yunkai'i? The Sons of the Harpy?

Since we're 100% gonna have Dark Dany. I don't think we're gonna have an idiot Jon who was acting like AGoT 11 year old Sansa in the show. Dark Jon is in the cards too.

Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry. As the moon rose above the grasslands, Dany slipped at last into a restless sleep.

Dany wondering who betrayed her??? (with 3 possible people) only to be answered by a wolf's howl.☠️☠️ Great foreshadowing Aegonys, the wolf howled followed by a restless sleep for Dany. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Mormont gave a whistle, and the bird flew to him again and settled on his arm. "A lord's one thing, a king's another."

You would weep as well if you had a son and lost him, Sam almost said. He could not blame Gilly for her grief. Instead, he blamed Jon Snow and wondered when Jon's heart had turned to stone. Once he asked Maester Aemon that very question, when Gilly was down at the canal fetching water for them. "When you raised him up to be the lord commander," the old man answered.

Anon, just imagine someone like Jon who was murdered by his brothers only to be resurrected. He was cold as fuck to Gilly when he was only a Lord Commander, what happens if the North makes him their King? I've always tried to find a possible reason for Gendrya having sex in the show. I agree that they're gonna be canon in the books but I never imagined they would really have sex and an arranged marriage might be the reason for it. Arya is too young imo but being with Gendry can also be Arya's little rebellion. A willful little Lyanna escaping a marriage to be with a Baratheon. Oh how the turn tables. Unlike Lyanna tho, Arya is going to be willful to the end and leave him for her own adventure.

Once Cregan gets a child by me they won't need me anymore. He's buried two wives already." She rubbed away a tear angrily, the way Arya might have done it. "Will you help me?"

"Marriages and inheritance are matters for the king, my lady. I will write to Stannis on your behalf, but—"

"Shortly." Sigorn might take it as a slight if he did not appear. And this marriage is mine own work, after all. "I have other matters to attend to first, however."

Marriages are matters for the King and he's the one who made Alys' marriage which essentially makes him the King.

"You're not scared?"

The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. "Let him be scared of me."

I don't think we should discount Jon making a suitable marriage for Arya. It's not like he's gonna marry her off to a Ramsay Bolton. Damn though. Arya having sex with her fake brother Gendry. And if we get Jonsa on top of that... These Stark sisters sure are something.

#sherlokiness ask #ice and fire boy and nothing so sweet

[makerkenzie]

WHAT IF Robb Stark heeded good advice? Part 3

I'm back, lions and leopards. Your baby-eating deviant Lannistan is back, continuing the alternate timeline of "the North wins the war in this one." See Part 1: Things to do differently, and Part 2: How is that working out?

Where we left off: King Robb has a dawning realization that Lord Tywin isn't really fighting him on the battlefield. Everyone knows Stannis Baratheon is on his way to besiege King's Landing, and Robb understands King Stannis wouldn't be any more amenable to an independent North than the current Lannister regime is now. No matter who wins the battle, the Freys will probably turn cloak, and Robb can't afford that. He needs to have a productive discussion of terms before the siege, and the best candidate for that discussion is Acting King's Hand Tyrion.

King Robb's entourage will include:

His mother, Catelyn, who's proven an astute advisor, and has recent up-close experience with Tyrion.

Uncle Edmure, soon to become Lord of Riverrun.

Ser Stevron Frey is still alive in this one because they didn't attack Oxcross, so he didn't take a wound. He's the heir to the Crossing.

Lord Greatjon Umber, lord of Last Hearth and King Robb's fiercest supporter.

Ser Wylis Manderly, heir to New Castle.

Lady Maege Mormont of Bear Island.

Theon Greyjoy, heir to Pyke.

Their hostage Ser Jaime Lannister, the shiny thing to dangle in Tyrion's face.

Lady Brienne of Tarth, Lady Catelyn's sworn sword there to keep Ser Jaime in line.

There are probably some other people I should include in the team. I think it's definitely in King Robb's interest to bring this bunch, at least.

Team shows up at the Red Keep! If I were Robb, I'd give Ser Jaime several good meals along the trip and a bath, shave and clean clothes just before they let Tyrion see him.

Now this doesn't mean they're releasing Jaime into his brother's custody effective immediately. It means a prisoner exchange is on the table. They've brought him this far as a gesture of good faith.

...and in the spirit of good faith, Robb and Catelyn would like to see Sansa and Arya.

So Tyrion's all like, yes, of course. Here's Sansa! See, she's fine, we're taking good care of her!

Yes, good, and, what about Arya?

And Tyrion starts making shit up about Arya being such a trickster, always playing hide-and-seek, and this one time she didn't turn up for supper and it took the septa SEVEN HOURS to find her...

Cue the record scratch, freeze frame on Tyrion: "You must be wondering how I got here."

In all seriousness, the Starks' first suspicion is that Arya's dead and the Lannisters know it. Shit's about to get real, and Sansa starts making noises because she doesn't want to see her mom, big brother, and uncle get slaughtered or locked in cells. At some point Brienne gets in the middle of the fray and shockwaves everyone out to the edges.

Long story somewhat shorter: Tyrion insists they WANT to give Arya back to her family and they have people on the case of FINDING HER, and there's no reason to think she's dead. Sansa corroborates enough to tell the Starks it's still possible for Arya to turn up alive and the Lannisters aren't hiding her.

Back to the war camp outside the city walls. They let Tyrion sweat for a few days while Robb argues about terms and tactics with his team. Ultimately! Catelyn convinces her son that they still need to conclude the war sooner rather than later. Back to the Red Keep!

THIS TIME, as they know the Lannisters only have one of the girls to trade for Jaime, the Starks are in a stronger position.

From Tyrion's position: He's not convinced that Northern independence is even tenable, much less if they take the Riverlands with them. He's even less convinced there's any version of splitting the kingdom that his father would honor in the long term. He sees his assignment as getting Jaime safely home, and convincing the Starks to bend the knee, in that order.

With Team Stark at the table, Tyrion's questions are:

The Wall. Robb says yes, of course, it'll be the North's responsibility to maintain the Night's Watch. If men from the southern provinces want to volunteer for the Watch, they're granted safe passage through the North, but the Iron Throne is under no obligation. If the Wall is inadequately guarded and maintained, the North will bear the brunt of wildling raids.

Right, about that? Tyrion visited the Wall and hung out with men of the Watch and he'd like to know: what happens if the danger beyond the Wall is something much worse than a bunch of ragged people they don't like? How does the southern kingdom trust the North to protect everyone from a Snow Zombie invasion?

Robb's handwaving away that concern, but Tyrion has his reservations. He puts that one aside and moves on to:

The freaking Riverlands, I tell you. That's a problem. They want to take the center out of the kingdom? How are the other regions supposed to accept that?

Well, his daddy should've thought about that---

Yes, yes, his father ravaged the center of the kingdom, and it was easy. Of course once an agreement is reached, they'll withdraw their army from the Trident, yes. And how does the North intend to protect the Riverlands from invasion by other regional armies? It's either an independent kingdom, or not. That's the part where Ser Stevron and Uncle Edmure start asking to speak to King Robb in the next room.

After a tense discussion away from Tyrion, Robb comes back and assures him they'll have no problem with civilian travel through the Riverlands and of course they'll be responsible for protection. Edmure and Stevron still seem nervous but Tyrion is ready to move on.

If the new kingdom has a poor harvest and abrupt winter, they realize they can't ask the Iron Throne for food aid? They can buy food shipments from the Reach, sure, but if they can't pay for it, then they'll just have to suffer the famine. Which brings us back to the Wall.

If the Iron Throne gets word of a non-human threat coming from beyond the Wall, and the North has failed to support the Night's Watch enough to contain the threat, that's a problem for the entire continent. Again, Robb insists the Snow Zombies are long gone.

So Tyrion asks: But what if they're not long gone? If the Snow Zombies come back, and the North has failed to maintain the Wall, whether from hardship or disinclination, then the entire continent is in danger, and how does the North expect the southern kingdom to respond? The point is that if the North fails to protect the continent from supernatural threats, then its independence is null and void and the IT will re-annex the entire goddamn territory. Robb says okay, that's fine, because he is entirely sure the Snow Zombies aren't coming.

What about the Iron Islands? Are they part of the new independent Northern kingdom? No, they'll be another independent kingdom on their own. Oh really? So if the isles raid the North/Riverlands, they're prepared to deal with the attacks and not seek the Iron Throne's aid? Theon insists his dad won't do that. To which Tyrion feels like:

BUT SERIOUSLY, these terms aren't only applicable to the near future. When the current players' grandchildren are ruling their kingdoms, and the isles go raiding the Northern kingdom, then...?

13. So that's when Maege Mormont pulls Robb aside and there's another discussion behind the nearest closed door. They come back in looking moderately twitchy. Robb assures Tyrion he and his vassals will arrange their own safeguards against attacks from the isles.

14. Speaking of which! About the Ironborn currently attacking the west? They'll need to withdraw before the North gets any sort of agreement from the Lannisters. And if they want their own independence, they'll need to send a delegation down to KL to negotiate their own terms. Theon says yeah, okay, they'll do that. Tyrion says furthermore, if the isles go on attacking any of the southern provinces, and the North enables them in any way...the North's independence is null and void. Robb agrees, of course they will not enable the isles to raid the mainland. Tyrion continues that it goes without saying (but he's saying it anyway) that if the North/Riverlands attacks the southern kingdom, they will be re-annexed with extreme prejudice. Robb assures him they don't want any more war.

15. By this point, Tyrion's thinking he can actually get on board with splitting the kingdom. It's probably not sustainable past five years into the coming winter, but he's prepared to let them try it. There's still the matter of how much longer he'll be Acting King's Hand. He says to Robb, a treaty won't do them any good if his father rips it up. There's also the risk of Stannis taking over, and if he does, there's no way of knowing if he'll honor the treaty. (Catelyn knows.) The only assurance Tyrion can offer in that area is that if Stannis wins, and he doesn't honor the treaty, then the Starks don't have to pay tribute to the Iron Throne. Yes, they will be expected to make payments, which Tyrion is willing to divide into easily manageable amounts by spreading them over the next 200 years or so. Consider it 1) clean-up fee for their allies attacking the Westerlands, 2) restitution for forcing the Lannisters to divide their army whilst dealing with Stannis, and 3) insurance against Wall collapse. Fair or not, there's no way Tywin will honor the treaty if it doesn't include some sort of recompense. Even there, Tyrion offers an alternative: the Starks summon their army to KL to ally with the Lannisters against Stannis. Catelyn pulls her son aside and tells him: just make the payments. Their family can renegotiate the amounts with the next king or Hand.

16. With that much agreed, here's the procedure. First, the Starks exchange Tyrion's brother for Robb's sister before they leave the city, or there's no treaty. Second, they contact their allies in the west and demand immediate withdrawal. The treaty isn't valid until the invaders are gone. Finally, Tyrion promises to keep his agents searching for Arya, and if she turns up alive, they'll escort her back to Winterfell. HOWEVER: if Tywin honors the treaty, Cersei is likely to demand a hostage, and her demand will be supplied. So, the Starks need to prepare to say goodbye to another family member.

17. There are more prisoners of war on both sides. They'll stay where they are until after the battle. If Stannis wins...then, that'll be one of the less dangerous discussions the Starks will have with him.

18. The prisoner exchange is a joyous event. Sansa can't stop hugging her fam. Tyrion sticks Jaime in a tower cell in Maegor's Holdfast until he promises to hide in the secret tunnels during the battle. To their shock and horror, Cersei agrees with Tyrion that Jaime should sit out the battle after his months of being chained to a wall in Riverrun. Jaime promises to stay out of the fighting, just to make his siblings happy. And then when the battle begins, he disguises himself like a common man-at-arms and he goes out and fights. His presence on the field prevents Ser Mandon Moore from making his murder attempt on Tyrion. WHICH MEANS, Tyrion doesn't take any serious injuries during the battle, he isn't bedridden for days afterward, and his daddy can't railroad him out of the discussion following their victory. Things are getting twitchy between Jaime and Cersei.

19. The Starks send ravens to their allies in the west, followed by messengers in case the ravens don't make it, instructing withdrawal from the territory. Rickard Karstark doesn't like the news, as he still insists on killing Ser Jaime. Robb starts by reminding him of his surviving son Harrion, prisoner of the Lannister army, and follows by promising execution for insubordination. The Ironborn withdraw from the west, just in time for the Starks to get the heck out of Dodge before Stannis sails into Blackwater Bay. They ride back up to Riverrun and hold their breath for a resolution.

20. Tywin isn't exactly "happy" about the independence treaty, but he honors it because the war has already cost them huge amounts of gold, grain harvest, and lives. Tribute payments are welcome news. Cersei demands a hostage from the Starks, as promised. The Starks pause at the Twins on the way back to Winterfell so Robb can marry some giddy young she-weasel as they'd previously agreed. Nobody's head gets sewn onto a direwolf. Harrion Karstark goes home with his dad and Gawen Westerling goes home to the Crag.

21. The Starks roll up to Winterfell with Robb's new bride beside him and Brienne still serving Catelyn. Nobody's invaded or burned the castle. Theon is still their hostage and has all his appendages fully attached. There's the joyous reunion with Bran and Rickon, though Arya's absence is still heavy in the air. It's even more bittersweet when the raven arrives with Cersei's demand of a hostage. They're trying to convince Cersei to accept a sibling of the she-weasel, and Cersei is not having it. She demands one of Robb's family of birth, or she will claim his firstborn child. Just as the family are almost ready to accept they'll have to send Rickon to the Red Keep, Sandor Clegane rides up to the castle gates with Arya. There's another joyful reunion, and after rolling around in a pile of hugs and kisses with her children, Catelyn makes a decision: she will be the hostage. Brienne accompanies her to the Red Keep, where Cat releases her from service. Cersei is satisfied.

Now winter is coming and the North has its independence. It'll stay that way as long as they can keep the Riverlands secure. And as long as Balon Greyjoy behaves himself. And they have enough grain and salt beef to keep their people fed through the winter. And as long as the Wall doesn't crack. Sure, they've got it from there.

#asoiaf meta #what if #the north wins the war in this one #war of five kings #house stark #robb stark #catelyn stark #sansa stark #arya stark #tyrion lannister #jaime lannister #tywin lannister #cersei lannister #westerlands #blackwater bay #stannis baratheon #house frey #iron islands #house greyjoy #rickard karstark #the freaking riverlands i tell you #riverrun #king's landing #brienne of tarth #yeah but then there's the snow zombies #in which robb stark listens to his mother

[jackoshadows]

I really did not want to write about Waymar Royce, but here goes 😂

As @thelustybraavosimaid points out here, Sansa more than likely had a crush on the young, handsome, well dressed high born lord Waymar Royce based on his appearance and personality which is explicitly described as being different to Jon Snow’s in the text of the books, rather than based on headcanons of there being any resemblance between them.

 “Bronze Yohn knows me,” she reminded him. “He was a guest at Winterfell when his son rode north to take the black.” She had fallen wildly in love with Ser Waymar, she remembered dimly, but that was a lifetime ago, when she was a stupid little girl. - Alayne, AFfC

The comparison here is between the likes of Waymar and Joffrey - the boys she used to love based on superficial aspects like their looks and high born status. Jon Snow describes Joffrey as ‘proud’ and notices his attitude towards Winterfell and it’s denizens.

Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey's pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell's Great Hall. - Jon, AGoT

Waymar gave importance to being dressed well, just like Sansa. No doubt, one of the aspects in her childish crush on him involved his sense of fashion. In our very first prologue, this is what his men think about him:

He was a handsome youth of eighteen, grey-eyed and graceful and slender as a knife. Mounted on his huge black destrier, the knight towered above Will and Gared on their smaller garrons. He wore black leather boots, black woolen pants, black moleskin gloves, and a fine supple coat of gleaming black ringmail over layers of black wool and boiled leather. Ser Waymar had been a Sworn Brother of the Night’s Watch for less than half a year, but no one could say he had not prepared for his vocation. At least insofar as his wardrobe was concerned.

His cloak was his crowning glory; sable, thick and black and soft as sin. “Bet he killed them all himself, he did,” Gared told the barracks over wine, “twisted their little heads off, our mighty warrior.” They had all shared the laugh. - prologue, AGoT

The Wall is a harsh place, where survival is foremost and the crows at the Night’s Watch mock Waymar Royce for his clothes, with their dislike also probably stemming from his arrogance owing to his noble stature and high birth. 

We also see Craster being critical of Royce’s pride and leadership.

Lord Mormont said, “Ben was searching for Ser Waymar Royce, who’d vanished with Gared and young Will.”

“Aye, those three I recall. The lordling no older than one of these pups. Too proud to sleep under my roof, him in his sable cloak and black steel. My wives give him big cow eyes all the same.” He turned his squint on the nearest of the women. “Gared says they were chasing raiders. I told him, with a commander that green, best not catch ’em. Gared wasn’t half-bad, for a crow. Had less ears than me, that one. The ’bite took ’em, same as mine.” Craster laughed. “Now I hear he got no head neither. The ’bite do that too?” - Jon, ACoK

Note another passing comment on how good looking/handsome Waymar Royce is, with Craster mentioning his wives/daughters’ reactions to the man.

Nothing similar has been said about Jon Snow, he’s never referred to as handsome, his men don’t mock him over his sense of fashion and dressing and they trusted in his capabilities enough to elect him as Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.

Note also that we don’t need the mental gymnastics and convoluted logic of comparing a character that Sansa had a crush on with Jon Snow to infer what Sansa thinks of Jon’s looks and appearance. It’s directly in the text.

Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon. She even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their lady mother in her face or her coloring. And Jon's mother had been common, or so people whispered. Once, when she was littler, Sansa had even asked Mother if perhaps there hadn't been some mistake. - Sansa, AGoT

We know Sansa considers Arya to be horse faced and ugly and wished that Arya was a bastard like Jon, since they are so similar in looks and attributed those looks to Jon’s ‘common mother’ instead of the superior looking Tully stock.

Arya took after their lord father. Her hair was a lusterless brown, and her face was long and solemn. Jeyne used to call her Arya Horseface, and neigh whenever she came near. - Arya, AGOT

"Hodor!" Sansa yelled. "You ought to marry Hodor, you're just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!" She wrenched away from her sister's hand - Ned, AGoT

Her name, she had to know her name. "Arya Underfoot. Your sister used to call you Arya Horseface." "It was me made up that name. Her face was long and horsey. Mine isn't. I was pretty." Tears spilled from her eyes at last. The Prince of Winterfell, ADWD

And here is Sansa describing the Waynwoods in the TWoW sample chapter as horse-faced and homely and Myranda Royce mocking them for being horse-faced:

Ser Roland was the oldest of the three, though no more than five-and-twenty. He was taller and more muscular than Ser Wallace, but both were long-faced and lantern-jawed, with stringy brown hair and pinched noses. Horsefaced and homely, Alayne thought.

Alayne did not dignify that question with an answer. "Lady Waynwood will be here soon, with her sons."

"Is that a promise or a threat?" Myranda said. "The first Lady Waynwood must have been a mare, I think. How else to explain why all the Waynwood men are horse-faced? If I were ever to wed a Waynwood, he would have to swear a vow to don his helm whenever he wished to fuck me, and keep the visor closed." She gave Alayne a pinch on the arm. "My Harry will be with them, though. I notice that you left him out. I shall never forgive you for stealing him away from me. He's the boy I want to marry."  -  Alayne, TWOW

So no, there are no similarities between Waymar Royce and Jon Snow and they actually are a study in contrasts. Waymar Royce was handsome, proud and arrogant, not paying heed to the warnings of his men. He loved to dress well and was viewed as a green commander.

Jon Snow is a bastard, made friends with the likes of Pyp, Grenn, Toad and Samwell, has no interest in fashion, is a competent commander and has the brown hair and long faced Stark look, which Sansa attributes to his bastardy and common mother.

Kindly stop paralleling Jon Snow with Waymar Royce 🙏🏽

#asoiaf #Jon Snow #Waymar Royce #Sansa Stark #Joffrey Baratheon #Arya Stark #House Stark #The Long faced/horse faced and lusterless/stringy brown hair is a specific look #Not to be assigned to any tom dick or harry

[agentrouka-blog]

Can you make me a scale of most grey to least grey POV characters? And can you sprinkle funny commentary throughout?

This has spent a few weeks pushed behind the stacks in my Inbox by other asks, but much to my consternation it was not eaten by moths or mice, and once again I am faced with this ask that you deliberately chose to send to me, even though I am such a nice person.

The Rouka remembers. 

Okay, fine, let's have a look . How long can it possibly take?

*counting the POVs*

*disapproval intensifies*

(I will make you pay for this.)

Okay. Fine. From DARK to LIGHT:

31) Varamyr - Like if Tyrion was a warg, but without the desire to be liked and doing “nice” things for that reason. Everything is an opportunity to feed his hungry, angry ego - warging, rape, murder, theft. In-built punishment: nothing is ever enough, because he secretly hates himself for being “lump”, and he always will. Get out of One-Eye and die already.

30) Cersei Lannister - Will refrain from murdering children if it’s the impractical thing to do. Is not viscerally delighted to witness or engage in graphic torture. Less of a hypocrite than certain other villains. She’s not pretending to be good. 100% Cersei time all the time, no apologies. Not that it will make you feel better when you’re down in Qyburn’s laboratory of doom. Evil but entertaining!

29) Tyrion Lannister - Like if Theon’s potential for complexity was utterly drowned out by self-pity. He’ll murder people and then whinge about how bad it makes him feel to have done that. And then do worse. He’ll instigate the devastation of an entire region over a personal grudge. I want to watch his soul be scorched while he watches, I want his monumental ego to convulse in agony while he realizes that the reason he is not loved is his own damn self. But he is occasionally friendly to people like Podrick, and will do “good” things if it flatters his ego, so I’ll rank him higher than Cersei. 

28) Daenerys Targaryen - the ego that obliterated the solar system. Like if Victarion was a young girl with dragons. Less rock, more lava. Programmed to Targ. Essentially incapable of escaping her fate because she was raised to consider herself the pinacle of humankind, and all morality is relative to her needs. Will kill a child. Will kill a slave. Will kill slavers for killing children. Very capable of sadistic pleasure. Vaguely more prone to contemplating ethical questions, and then ignoring the result when it’s unpleasant. Body count unusually high for someone her size. Hypocrite. Hypocrite. Hypocrite. 

27) Melisandre - Infected with an unfortunate case of “the end justifies the means”, coupled with an even worse case of Sunk Cost Fallacy when it comes to the whole Azor Ahai business. That special religious fanaticism flavor of “Burning you alive in complete agony is actually good for you! You’re welcome!” Will kill a child with completely neutral feelings on the subject. But her intentions are good! Not that this will comfort you while you feel your toes roasting on the pyre.

26) Victarion Greyjoy -  Exists on a level of stupidity so profound that it doesn’t even contain moral considerations. Many rocks are grey, but his rock is unfortunately programmed to ironborn, so all that rape and murder makes him a dark grey basalt.

25) Chett - Like if Tyrion was low-born and his disability was “ugliness”. He kind of wanted to be liked, but he chose to be a vengefully grim self-pity machine instead. Mean to animals, too! I don’t fault him for conspiring against Mormont, only for doing it in a really selfish way. RIP, and stop kicking those dogs! 

24) Aeron Greyjoy - what happens when your cultural programming makes it impossible for you to not be horrible, but you tried to have a redemption arc, so you went from being a violent raider to being a religious fanatic instead. He’s not evil, not even totally devoid of compassion. Just perfectly at peace with cruelty when it’s for the “correct” reasons. You reap what you don’t sow.

23) Theon Greyjoy - Oh my god, you trainwreck. You are what Tyrion wishes he was. Someone I can love in spite of his horrific trauma-driven choices. And they were horrific. Rape and murder and the enabling of both. And his good actions are still mostly rooted in ego. His love is real but it was so easily overpowered by his anger. Come on, squid boy, work on that self-reflection now that you have your name back. I will cheer for your atonement path should you choose to accept it. For now, you’re a tragedy that has stopped digging and taken the first step up toward the light.

22) Merrett Frey - Oh for the love of french fries, just shut up you pathetic little man. I would have more pity if you’d been a decent father, but you couldn’t even do that. Live by sneaky ambush, die by sneaky ambush. Wenda sends her regards: RIP with that branding on your butt. 

21) Jaime Lannister - So grey he can’t even see his own edges. Few qualms about engaging in villainy or trying to kill children on any given day, but restrains himself because he is touchy about his reputation. Not generally sadistic. Will save a maiden if it flatters his own self-image that day. Abstractly fascinated with the idea of being “good” in a way that promises a potential net positive effect of his existence, all things considered.

20) Asha Greyjoy - Special “Least dark Greyjoy” trophy! Love my girl Asha, but she is still ironborn and likes a good raiding and killing. Capable of taking on a broader perspective, though, and the only Greyjoy who considers her mother in her thoughts. Has a subtle but fascinating growth arc that promises good things in terms of forging a path away from a predatory lifestyle to a more cooperative one for what remains of her whole people. Keep on trucking, pirate lady.

19) Kevan Lannister - Special “One of the least toxic Lannisters!” trophy. Cute because he actually loves his wife and their children. But looses points for weaponizing misogyny against his horrific niece instead of taking vengeance in an honorable way. Also he’s still a Lannister and a Tywin stan, so. RIP, enjoy that stabbing, Kevan.

18) Jon Connington - Not a horrid person, but clearly too egocentric to take a step back and reconsider his taste in men, and whether the failure to win a siege through cruelty was truly a failure at all. Eh. But kudos for protecting Aegon. A loyal guy if nothing else. So far. 

17) Arys Oakheart - So pathetic he doesn’t even qualify as a baddy. No spine to speak of, feels really bad about beating a child on command, utterly incapable of standing up for himself, either in the face of moral pressure or in the face of temptation. Self-pity champion. Mediocrity, thy name is Arys. RIP, you made room for Ser Robert The Strong, who will be more entertaining than you.

16) Davos Seaworth - a smart, compassionate man rendered horribly pathetic by his blind loyalty to Stannis. Sure, he’ll smuggle out a bastard boy to save his life, sure, he’ll disapprove of burning people alive. But he still supports the quest for kingship of the guy who would have killed Edric and who does authorize burning people alive. Cognitive dissonance subtracts 50 points. Also a deeply mediocre father and husband. Meh.

15) Bran Stark - A sweet, loving boy, who is using a horrible coping mechanism to deal with a traumatic loss (and then some) and is running out of the “just a child” excuse. Rated darker than Arya because he knows that his innocent friend Hodor is terrified, and he’s still forcing himself on him, making excuses that he knows are weak because he wouldn’t dare voice them to someone out loud. Bran. No. NO. Bad boy. He’ll do better and save the world, though. 

14) Arya Stark - Promising preoccupation with justice that has - for now - been disturbingly derailed into enjoying vengeful vigilantism. Quick to lash out (verbally and violently) instead of taking ONE DAMN MINUTE to consider if her “opponent” maybe has more complex reasons for their actions than to Make Arya’s Life Harder. She is just as determined and stubborn for good things, though, like rescuing various people, or showing mercy to even the undeserving. Ultimately, a baby that needs to be held and cuddled so she’ll calm down. 

13) Arianne Martell - A political player, kind and clever but with a dangerous taste in friends and exes. Unfortunate capability of holding on to silent grudges forEVER and never trying to clear the air. Few qualms about using people to achieve her ends, including children, but also unusually capable of self-reflecting and honest regret. Genuinely wants to do well. The only way is up and up and up, future queen of Dorne.

12) Barristan Selmy - Kind of a nice guy, but in a deeply pathetic “just following orders” way he doesn’t want to admit to himself. Great at realizing he was wrong about someone after it no longer matters, and then rushing in to be blindly loyal at the next tyrant. Good with kids, though, and a joy to have in class.

11) Eddard Stark - TALK, DAMN YOU, YOU SOFT-HEARTED COWARD. Talk to your wife, talk to your nephew, talk to your daughter. FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE. They all love and admire you so much, you have nothing to lose, damn you! Oh, and while you’re at it, keeping hostages is a bad BAD idea. A good guy who will stand up to power, but who will unfortunately often take the easy way out when he has the power to do it. RIP, quiet wolf.

10) Jon Snow - Brave sweetheart with a dark side. His wobbly sense of self-worth leads to self-isolating, and sacrificing himself and others for the big picture. Questionable taste in childhood heroes. Imprinted on Ned’s “No talking” issues. Can snap into blind rage when the wrong button is pushed. A petty drunk. Has shown himself very capable of growth, though, and feels a profound sense of responsibility for the greater good. Soft for children, grim to abusers, will stand up to bullies, fluffy romantic. Will enjoy beheading you if you give him a legal excuse to do it. Kind to animals! Foreshadowed dark turn: Would you bed your sister? Jon? Answer the question! Jon! 

9) Pate - Not evil, but high on the self-pity and wounded ego, which makes him confused about what “love” is. He thinks it’s buying a girl from her mother, like a goat. Pate, my boy, did you consider asking Rosey if she even wants to tour the countryside on donkeyback with you? Did you ever consider that her mother has no interest in selling her to you for your stolen dragon? RIP, dumbass.

8) Catelyn Stark - One of the few consistent advocates for 1) women, 2) peace, 3) Eddard Stark’s cuddly torso. Follows social norms to a fault, which enables the stupid men and boys in her life to keep being stupid, and puts pressure on the non-conforming child. When she snaps, it’s for love. When she lashes out, it’s because she is basically incoherent from grief or has a bad case of raised from the dead. Made Tyrion look stupid, which is an ethical achievement. RIP, Lady Stark, daughter of Riverrun.

7) Sansa Stark - Will absolutely wish you dead and call you ugly and stupid if you wrong her, but be horrified if you actually die. Kind to people 95% of the time. Enjoys the snark, but mostly toward those who deserve it. At the moment far too comfortable with outsourcing her life choices to Horrific People due to self-doubt causing brain-freeze. Take some responsibility and be the change you want to see in the world, little one. The first step is the hardest. Foreshadowed dark turn: How would you like to marry your cousin? What if you didn’t yet know he’s your cousin? What then? 

6) Will - Just a dude in the Night’s Watch, doing his ranger duty and witnessing a horrid supernatural murder before being horridly supernaturally murdered. No moral failings to be detected. RIP, little poacher man.

5) Maester Cressen - Sweet to children, will self-sacrifice to stop a fire-mad sorceress, closes his eyes to the culpability of those he loves. RIP, old man. You tried with that Stubborn Stanny.

4) Samwell Tarly - Will canonically not even hurt a mouse and tries to reason with wights, but has one surprisingly violent outburst at a singer and finds manipulating elections to be a surprisingly intuitive task. A much better grasp of right and wrong than Jon Snow when measured by the scale of Gilly. Also an absolute sweetheart. Can’t wait to see GRRM torture him with real moral ambiguity in the future. <3

3) Quentyn Martell - He just wanted to make his father proud. He did nothing bad, and the one ambiguous thing he tried instantly roasted him. :( RIP, little dreamer. You will be missed.

2) Areo Hotah - He guards and he watches. No pretense at moral fortitude, but no known transgressions, either. Patient with Doran, fond of the Martell clan. Not many chinks in that armor. 

1) Brienne of Tarth - Wear shades or the bright white of her soul will blind you. The purest and bestest. Better than you, better than your fave, better than anyone else you could name, don’t even try.

#pov characters #moral ambiguity #ranking #long post #anti daenerys targaryen #anti tyrion lannister