#and *feeling* like he was *disposable and used* by House Targaryen

[thewitchqueenofharrenhal]

They could never make me hate you *SHOW* Criston Cole!

#criston cole #hotd #I do wish he would have worded this differently #I think his issue is *fuedalism* #and *feeling* like he was *disposable and used* by House Targaryen #like idc #y’all can’t make me hate him #oh but he’s vile #goood #yes that’s interesting to me #I like when characters become monsters due to complex human feelings #doesn’t matter if it’s right or not #it’s being human #like you can say what you want #but it’s clear Alicent and Cole felt taken advantage of by Targaryens

[misguidedasgardian]

The Winter Sun (16)

16. The God's wood

MASTERLIST

Summary: A child born in Winter was a good omen

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, birth of a baby (nothing described), fluff, talk about death and miscarriages, talk about childbirth, and death in childbirth, breastfeeding, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.3 k

Notes: I don’t really like how I name the baby BUT that is canon! Cregan’s first child is name like that so… anyways IT'S HAPPENNING PEOPLE THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL

Cregan was stunned… he couldn’t find you anywhere, he was also becoming scared, but the alarms didn’t go off so he doubted something bad had befell you. He looked for you in the battlements, and nothing, you were not in your rooms, not in the library, nor in the Kitchens, not the room that had turned into yours and Sara’s sewing room, and you were not with the Maester. He finally had the courage to scout the Godswood, but you weren’t that either.

So he started to ask around if people had seen you, and the path took him to the kitchens again.

“Yes, she and Sara are down the earth, in the hot springs”, said Thelma, as she whisked the batter for a pie Sara had requested of her. Cregan looked at the woman incredulously

“Couldn’t you just tell me that earlier?”, he asked, and she looked at him and chuckled

“Made you look!”, she teased, and he chuckled darkly, and left the kitchens

So you where in the Hotsprings below the castle

He was not surprised, but he tried to suppress his anger, those hot springs had a very high temperature, specially in your state, but he had to remind himself that one, Targaryens did prefer the heat, it had been proven by maesters that you had a higher tolerances for higher temperatures than normal people, and two, that you had good instincts you had learned to follow, so if you were in the Hot Springs, it meant you really felt the need to go, that you really believe it could do you good. 

He had to dispose of his cape, his vest and his boots before he went down the stairs, because he was already sweating, the steam that came from down below was hitting him strongly.

The set of old stone stairs opened to a wide cave, that looked like a pavilion, a huge bath house for the natural hot springs that had been here since the beginning of time, and the reason Winterfell was built where it was 

You were lying down in the edge of the hot pool, on your side, your big belly between your hugging arms, Sara was by your side, half of her body in the waters, you were both dressed in short light dresses, that were completely soaked. You were conversing happily, giggling like two little girls, Cregan stopped on his tracks and just watched the scene, amused. 

How did he get so lucky?

Fate had brought his sister to Winterfell’s doors, and he loved her dearly, a dragon had brought you to Winterfell’s gates… you both, you three… were everything to him

“Cregan!”, greeted Sara, you turned around with a smile on your face

“My love”

“Hello you two, can I join you?”

“Well of course!”, you said, patting the palace right by your side, where he took a seat, placing his feet under the hot, almost boiling water. 

But it was relaxing nonetheless once you get used to it.

You went into the waters and floated around happily Cregan soon joined you, taking you in his arms

“this is the only place that gives me comfort”, you whined, smiling, “I feel so heavy all the time, floating around soothes me”

“I understand that”, he kissed your wet temple, as you floated around happily

“I don’t understand why we don’t come to this place more often”, muttered Sara with a shy smile, “it is so relaxing”

“It is”, said Cregan

“Agreed”, you giggled, “if it was enough my dragon could be happy here”

“Speaking of dragons, how is Dragonstone?”, she asked you both

“It is one of the greatest things I have ever seen”, Cregan muttered, “The whole island rests on Dragon glass, and the castle itself seems to be carved right off the stone, dragons sculpted everywhere, a great fortress, it is breathtaking”

“Did you see the dragons?”, she asked, amazed

“Only flying from afar”, he said, “it is very dangerous to get close to them”, you added 

“One day we will take you”, promised Cregan, and you nodded enthusiastically

Perhaps, when Rhaenyra is Queen, you could ask her to proclaim Sara legitimate, you haven't spoken about it with Cregan or Sara, but it is something you wanted so badly for her. Perhaps when it’s done…

“When winter is over, you could travel through the kingdoms on dragonback!”, you said happily

“You know Vhaelar actually likes me!”, Sara offered, “Well, she hasn't thrown fire at me, so I’m guessing it’s a good sign!”, she giggled 

“That is indeed a good beginning”, you giggled

You spend the rest of the afternoon in the Hot Springs, until Cregan dragged you both out, saying it was too much, your baby moved around in your belly, restless. So Cregan took you to the kitchens, to feed you both.

The pie Thelma had cooked for you was ready, so you enjoyed it together in the great hall

“I have to go to the woods to hunt”, Cregan told you, “a group of stags had been spotted near the river, It would be good to have some extra meat if needed”, he explained

“I wish you luck husband”, you whispered with a shy smile

“It shouldn’t be more than a couple of days”, he said simply, grabbing your hand over the table

Cregan left the very next morning and came back in two days, as promised, tired and freezing, but with fresh meat to eat.

You celebrated with roast deer those coming days.

So you kept navigating through winter, Cregan was exchanging letters with his friend Ben, of how much he wanted to see him, you haven{t met him yet, but Cregan had told you many stories about him, how he was his closest friend, he had even send you a present for your unborn child, and you couldn’t wait to meet him.

You also couldn’t wait to meet your child, you were growing heavier by the day, so uncomfortable, your feet hurt at the end of each day, your belly button had begun to pop, and according to the servants and the midwife it was a sign that the birth was near. And you were happy for it.

Cregan had been occupied most day, making preparation, he covered every window in your rooms with a plank of wood and furs except for one, so you could still watch over Winter’s Town

You were over a moon shy of finally having him in your arms.

It was the middle of the morning and still, there was darkness everywhere. The presence of the Lord of Winterfell was required in Winter’s Town, a problem between lords, and cattle to take meat, so he had to go to settle the quarrel. It was easily resolved by throwing a few coins at the problem. 

The snow and cold had taken hold of his body, but still, you were nearing the end of the pregnancy, so the freezing cold did not deter Cregan, who had grabbed an oil lamp and ventured himself deep in the Godswood, with the Heart tree being the only destiny in his mind. 

With the ghostly face in front of him, he fell to his knees and placed his hands together in prayer. And with one last look towards that carved face, he closed his eyes in concentration.

“Gods”, he called, “Gods of the streams, the forests, the rocks, Gods of beasts, of men, of children, I beseech you”, he spoke with a trembling voice, begging, “You who whisper when the winds blows and when the birds sing, all of you who linger in the winter, who bring life in the midst of death…”, he opened his eyes again, looking at those eyes who were looking right back at him, “I beg of you, protect my wife”, he said gently, “protect her and my unborn child, let her live to see our baby grow big and strong, she is a good and kind woman, please protect her….”

Only silence was his answer, but he felt at peace when he heard the wind blows through the trees

After everything he had lived through and everyone he lost he found himself constantly feeling this horrible sensation, of that the same fate as his first two wives might befall you, his young wife and mother to their unborn child.

And he couldn’t bear it, not again, if he loses you, he might as well die right by your side, he was going to do everything in his power to prevent it

But there was this moment where he felt content, even if he followed the Old Gods and their traditions, he wasn’t quite devote, so he really hoped his prayers were answered, and for a second he believed they were, he heard the rustling of the leaves, a soft whisper in the air, and far, far away, the howling of Autumn deep in the Wolf’s wood

It was so peaceful

“CREGAN!”, and now the screech of his sister, “CREGAN!”, She called again and he turned, alarmed, he could not see her, so he stood up, grabbing the lamp and he started running towards the entrance of the God’s Wood

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?”, he asked, alarmed 

“You fool! Where were you? I have been looking for you everywhere!”, she cried, grabbing into his arms, “it’s time! She is in labor! she had been for hours!”, she said with a wide smile

“I am going to be a father?”, he asked, his eyes shiny, and Sara nodded enthusiastically

“YES! NOW GO YOU IDIOT!”, he passed by her running, dropping the lamp that broke against the ground, but he couldn’t care less

He was going to be a father!

He thought fleetingly that he had never run so fast in his life, everything around him going by in a blur. He almost jumped the short steps towards the entrance of the castle and he shoved every person on his way screaming how sorry he was, he found the stairs and ran even faster, when he finally reached the last floor of the castle, where his rooms were, he heard your screams. They were like screams of someone fighting for their life, screams of war and battle… He stopped in his tracks, scared out of his mind, not wanting to go in.

What if something went badly?

What if you perished afterwards?

What if his babe…?, he didn’t even want to think about it.

And then, there was calm, silence, you had stopped your screams, and he decided, really, he didn’t decide anything, his feet took him to venture inside the room, he ran, opened the door widely, just as the cries of his first born child reached his ears.

He didn’t realize he was holding his breath, not until he let out all the air in his lungs, and you found his eyes and you smiled, widely, you were sweaty, bloody, messy, and you never looked more beautiful

“It’s a boy!”, screamed the midwife, with a crying, bloodied bundle in her arms 

“Cregan!”, you called, and he ran to your side

“I was not here!”, he lamented, kissing your face, your sweaty forehead, taking your hands in his, “my love I’m so sorry!”, he cried

“It was so fast!”, you chuckled tiredly, “it came very quickly, you do not need to be sorry” 

“Two pushes and he was out my lord!”, cheered a maid that had helped you through the whole delivery

“Here he is!”, the midwife said, “cleaned and ready to meet his parents! a healthy baby boy”, your babe was crying softly, his little hands above the fabrics searching for something, or someone.

She placed it gently in your arms, and you looked down at his little reddened face, you accommodated him against your chest, and his cries stopped, he tried to open his eyes but he barely could, he was so small, and chubby, his hair dark just like his father’s

Cregan fell to his knees by your side, to look at him, you didn’t even realize you were crying happy tears, relieved tears

“Our baby!”, he cried as well, placing hand on it’s head, so small in comparison, “look at him”, he said, enamored, “he is so perfect”, he whispered

“He is kind of small isn’t he?”, you asked, “it’s a little red…”, you were not quite convinced, and you were weary and scared, if something was wrong you wouldn’t know how to tell

“It is normal my lady”, giggled the midwife, “I shall fetch the maester, to have a look at him”, you nodded. “You did not had any reapings, so you should have make a quick recovery, no blood was lost, either way, I will fetch the maester”

You look at your son and you couldn’t believe you had him in your arms, it felt surreal, you knew why they called them “bundles of joy”, you felt so happy, a warmth in your chest that took a hold on you whole, you felt joyous, you felt like you could explode with love for this little person that you held so comfortably against you, like he belonged there, like he was created to fit perfectly in your arms and against you chest. You whined in happiness, still happy tears rolled down your eyes

You looked up at Cregan and he was looking down at you with suck love and wonder in his gray eyes like you had never seen before

“Would you like to hold him?”, you asked Cregan, and he nodded. You passed on the baby to him, and he held it in his arms carefully. Once he was safe in his father’s arms, the maids and the midwife cleaned you, took the afterbirth with them, and left you with cleaned sheets, and then they left. 

“We must tell the happy news to everyone!”, one said, and the left you in the comfort of your rooms

Your still nameless child had fallen asleep in Cregan’s arms, and you sighed, tired. Childbirth brought you a pain you had never felt before, a crippling pain, and then when you finally expelled it from your body you felt an incredible relief, a soothing sensation washing over you, but now, that adrenaline has passed, the pain has returned, and also, you felt so tired…

“How are you feeling my love?”, he asked softly

“I feel like I’ve been trampled by a herd of wild horses”, you said with a tired smile, “but I will be alright” 

“If something happens to you I swear…” he sighed heavily against your temple, “I’ll die right with you”

“I’m fine”, you assured him, and he smiled, “we have to name our child”, you said with a tired smile.

He laid down by your side, your sleeping baby in his arms, you both looked at him

“How shall we name him?”, he asked then

“Should we name him like your father?”, you asked, “Rickon?”, he looked at you wide eyed

“Would you like that? Name him as my father?”

“I love that name”, you whispered. “It’s a northmen name”, you said happily, so he nodded

“Then it’s Rickon Stark”, he said

The maester showed up shortly after, with a shy smile. He entered the room after knocking

“The old gods had blessed you, my lord!”, he said, “they brought you a son!”

“They did”, he said gently

“Would you let me examine him?”, you begrudgingly agreed and let him take Rickon, he placed him gently at the foot of the bed and he undressed him, his little chubby arms and legs moved desperately

“It’s cold!”, you complained, but Cregan only chuckled

“10 toes”, the old man said, tickling his small feet, “10 fingers”, he said then, and he touched him in his belly, he grabbed his arms gently, and his legs, he examined him, then he placed his finger in front of his little face and move it around, he hummed, contented, “he has your eyes princess”, he said, then looking at you, “the eyes of old Valyria”, you sighed happily, “he is a healthy baby boy”, he placed him back into your arms, covered in a small fox fur 

“You can tell the people of Winter’s town”, Cregan said, proud, “Winterfell has it’s heir, is a boy named Rickon, like my father before me”

“A strong winter child”, he said, “the people will be happy”, he gave you sips of milk of the poppy and then he left your small family again

“Are you proud?”, you asked, your eyes filled with hope and wonder

“Proud?”, he asked, raising his gaze from the babe in his arms to look at you

“I want you to be proud of me, and our little family”, you explained gently

“I’m not only proud, but I’m possibly the happiest men on the world right now”, he said, “look at our child, look at what you give to me”, he said gently, “I love you, and I couldn’t be prouder”

With that in mind you dozed off, thanks to the milk of the poppy, and relying on Cregan’s body for support 

“We have a big bed wife, one day we will be all squeezed up with all the children we are going to have”, you heard faintly before falling asleep. 

You woke up a couple of hours later, with the cries of RIckon, you jumped out of bed to find him crying in Cregan’s armas, who looked kind of desperate and once you were awake, he looked guilty for awakening you

“I think he might be hungry”, you whispered. The midwife had come close to you the last moon, to talk to you about this kind of thing, cares for your babe, you had insist you wanted to breastfeed him yourself, you reached at Cregan and with a wide smile, he placed Rickon back into your arms

“There you are little one”, you greeted gently, you released one of your breasts from your night shirt, and palace him near your nipple, he latched on immediately, and it tickle you when he started to suck, it felt so strange

Cregan held you in his arms as you fed Rickon, dropping comfort kisses on your shoulder, and he caressed your arms. 

There was no need for words, you only shared this intimate moment, with your newborn in your arms, and your husband by your side. 

Rickon fell asleep soon after, and you giggled, Cregan grabbed him and placed him in the crib that you had placed specially for this moment, a beautiful wooden crib, carves with beautiful Northerner designs, sent by one of Cregan’s closest friends, Ben Tallhart, Lord of Torrhen’s square. 

He look through the window and gasped in surprise, he then looked back at you

“Look” he said softly, you reached for him and he helped you raise from the bed with difficulty, and then walk towards the window with a view of winter’s town, you gasped, amazed, all around town big torches had been lit up, pires all around, it looked like the town itself was aflame, but the reflection of the snow made it wonderful, “do you know what it is?”, he said, amazed, “the people of the town lit fires in your honor, their fire lady, in celebration of the birth of our son”, he said proudly

“Really?”, you asked, tears in your eyes

“Really”, he assured you, he hugged you kissing the top of your head, “thank you my love” 

“For what?”, you giggled

“For everything”, he said, kissing the side of your face 

. . .

What you did not know is that as your baby boy drew his first breath, King Viserys, in King’s landing, drew his last. 

More notes!: I wanted to make the birth swift and quickly... because she will have more children and just didn't want to make it very dramatic...

ANYWAYS como se dice en espanol... ya va llegando gente al baile! hahaha

Taglist! ❤️

@severewobblerlightdragonn @missusnoraora @stargaryenx @poppyreaderer @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuffster-stuff @batprincess1013 @eddiepickerker 

@lyannesworldrld @arujee @kamisunshine @​​mss-nthng @partypoison00 @grimistangel @elleclairez @may-machin @prettykinkysoul @justagurlwithships @champomiel 

@laura-naruto-fan1998 @zoleea-exultant @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @zoleea-exultant @llleon666 @dark-night-sky-99 @bitchigoteverythingissues @harrypotteranna23-blog@esposadomd @ajanauia @phantomtea19 @let-love-bleeds-red @kishie8 @dreamingofyourmoons @esposadomd @sandronebabyy @kemillyfreitas @​​trifoliumviridi @dreamingofyourmoons @darling-jace @biblichorr

#misguidedwinter #cregan #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #house targaryen #house stark #targaryen!reader #targaryen!oc

[bohemian-nights]

Thoughts on Sara Snow?

I’m mostly going to be focusing on Sara Snow in the context of the show because there is too much in the books about her(all we know is she’s the bastard sister of Cregan Stark) to do any real in-depth analysis of her character.

Let me start by stating that I do believe she’s real, I don’t hate her, and I believe she does serve a purpose(more on this later), but in show context, I understand why some fans don’t want her included.

(By some fans I mean Black women cause those are the only fans I see that have a legitimate concern with her inclusion).

This show(and GOT cause I haven’t forgotten what you guys did to Missandei either🙃) has an abysmal track record when it comes to Blackish women. They are all treated like disposable props for white characters(which is a common trope in media)and aren't allowed to be full characters.

So the optics of having Baela being “left” for a white girl* coming off the heels of what happened to Laena just looks bad.

*I think Sara should be played by a mixed actress, which would take care of the image problem, but it’s pretty clear that if she’s being included she’s probably going to be played by a white girl.

That being said, there are ways in which they can include Sara without it being disrespectful or making it seem like Baela has been slighted in some way.

We have to keep in mind that Jace dies pretty soon into the Dance, he’s weak asf(sorry to any Jace fans but your fave is lame in HOTD), and he and Baela never marry let alone have children. He’s her stepbrother/cousin, but he’s just a blip in her life. He is not her endgame.

That role belongs to the lord in training of f*ckboy’s Alyn Velaryon. He is the one who she married and had children with. He’s her destiny, not Jace.

If they focus on these guys' relationship and have Alyn actively chasing after Baela and Baela is more receptive to him we can avoid her being the jilted would-be girlfriend who doesn’t measure up. Remember Baela and Jace do not know each other well. Unlike in the books, they weren’t raised together and they’ve only presumably met a handful of times since Baela was raised on Driftmark with Granny.

I doubt she’s that attached to Jace so it would be easy enough showing her getting swept up in Alyn(he’s Corlys 2.0 he should be very charming) to the point where she doesn’t really care wherever Jace goes or whoever he is with.

Back to Sara Snow. I know a lot of fans like to say she’s irrelevant, but there are very few truly irrelevant characters(cough Corwyn Cornbread cough Lasagna Radish), during the Dance and Sara isn’t one of them. She has a purpose and that purpose is to be to Jace what Nettles and Alys are to Daemon and Aemond.

Yes, Jace is a bastard, but he’s still a (half) Targaryen bastard. He’s a prince. There is a certain level of respect he is given when even the maesters see him. We see this respect come into play when it comes to Sara Snow.

Like with Nettles and Alys, Jace is thought to be too good for Sara. The maesters(and Mushroom) hurl a bunch of sexist, xenophobic, and classist language her way, calling her half-wild, an unwashed northern bastard, a wolf girl, and a creature.

The maesters do not believe she exists, but they then say that if she did she wasn’t used as anything more than a roll in the hay. A chance for the Prince of Dragonstone to sow his wild oats before he went back to his high-born Valyrian betrothed Baela.

I feel like the point of the Dance is to show the folly in the pride, prejudice, and greed of House Targaryen as well as the other noble houses in general. Sara shows this.

Finally, I’d like to note that most of the outrage regarding Sara Snow being included is being made by the same people who ship Jace with Cregan(cause I guess two men sleeping together doesn’t count as cheating 🙃) or Nettles😒

I’ve already explained why this is, but it’s being done by Dumbnyra stans to “keep” Nettles away from Daemon.

This is less about racism or Baela being shafted and more about just not wanting Sara included.

Honestly, even if Baela was white like her book!counterpart I could still see people arguing against Sara’s inclusion citing that you are trying to take away from gay representation(even though there is nothing to indicate Jace is gay) or an interracial romance(lol again they don’t want Dettles to happen and will use whatever at their disposal to “stop” it).

Sara Snow would be a great inclusion to the show, but time will tell if she’ll be included at all🤷🏽‍♀️

#sara snow #bnask #sara x jace #jace velaryon #bnasks

[boonoonoonus]

People only care about House Velaryon as much as it pertains to creating this upotian idea of racial neutrality. However, when you press to say the optics of whiteness perpetuating a form of ethnic cleansing in the House, everyone is blind. They can't see that, and the reason is because whiteness can never see itself as anything but ulturistic. People cannot comprehend, nor can they write anything that treats non-white characters as people with their own motivations, beliefs, and sense of morality because then they'd have to stop using them as tools. Laenor Velaryon is used in this way in fandom to prop up the Targaryens narrative concerning white supremacy, colonisation, and classism. It's ludicrous that's there is no fanfiction or meta or anything interrogating the possibility that House Velaryon could be justified in their dislike of the succession crisis Rhaenyra causes or that Laenor may be upset with her. He is never more than her gay best friend because that is the only role a gay biracial man can play for a white woman.

This is problematic in as much that making a biracial man support someone who is representative of systems of oppression in any which way without critical engagement is dangerous and an oversight. Making House Velaryon black could have been interesting. Instead, it's invited white people on mass to prop up black people as support for their racist fantasies. By that, I mean any writing/headcanon/thought experiment that sees House Velaryon just be Rhaenyra's strongest supporters without explaining why, is just erasure and tokenism. (Sidenote, no one ever gives a why and I think in part it's because media literacy is dead and whiteness has become so ingrained as the standard people cannot fathom why you would never just support the main white character no matter how asinine they are. There is no good argument, and no one wants to do the work to try to create one. Fair enough, no one can demand your labour, but it leave black characters in a sidelined and tokenistic position that supports white people taking them out for brownie points when needed.)

Laenor isn't a person, he's a mesh of plot relevant reactions and external support to make Rhaenyra and the writer by extension look and feel better. Both Laenor and Laena are shown in fanfiction and the TV show to be useful by the very act of their disposal, and no one pauses to wonder if that is a violent act. (It is. It's antiblack and plays into hegemonic violence against black bodies).

Also, the breeding kink of the white supremacist line of thinking shows itself in the way in which people argue the importance of Rhaenyras line continuing by blood, but conveniently saying that the choice to adopt on behalf of House Velaryon is progressive and their blood doesn't matter, choice does. The parallels between this argument and the likes of the Tuskegee experiment or sterilisation of non white persons with vaginas in hospitals and prisons whilst encouraging white people who are capable of giving birth to do so are immense. The willingness of people to fall into white supremacist lines of thinking when arguing for a fictional character is astounding, however its ultimately a pet peeve on my behalf. There are very few critical spaces in which blackness is welcomed in life, and existential alienation extends into the digital and fictional worlds. People are comfortable with prejudice and white supremacy ,it's is the basis on which the West builds legitimacy and precedent, it is not remiss then to say that the inheritors of these social precedents replicate the behaviour and line of thinking.

This is not to say people are unaware, but often the "fun" of whiteness is to be able to not have to worry about the likes of Black, Indigenous, Asian or Pacific islander people because preservation of white happiness is more important. White people get to live in a utopian ideal all the time when it pertains to race and have the freedom to say that discussions on such topics harsh their vibe so they do not have to engage.

But whatever, who cares what I think, I'm just a Black person on the Internet.

#Ryahmidnightmusings

[thewingedwolf]

i’m too lazy to write it rn but something something daemon experiences the same powerlessness basically every targaryen woman and other noble women experience at the hands of their male relatives something something just like Dany & Alicent, he reacts to those feelings with extreme violence, and rhaenyra’s attraction to him is based on his understanding of what being seen as disposable does to a person, but their relationship is likely to start failing when she realizes a) his violence takes its toll and it’s not one she wants to pay at the expense of the realm b) his violence will eventually bleed into and poison the family she’s painstakingly built for herself, while on his end, he will find she has less and less sympathy for his overblown and violent reactions to his valid problems because he is allowed to react that way explicitly because he is a man, while Rhaenyra’s violence will be used as an excuse to massacre her babies, and later, claims her own life (and even further, destroys their house)

#i’m tired someone else do it #rani liveblogs asoiaf #rani liveblogs house of the dragon #rani liveblogs game of thrones

[moon-ruled-rising]

as the rain hides the stars | xiv

Read the full story here...

xiv: we can’t make any promises

This ain’t for the best,

my reputation’s never been worse so,

he must like me for me.

We can’t make any promises

now can we babe?

But you can make me a drink.

-Taylor Swift, “Delicate”

When Dany was younger, she planned her future wedding with as much fever and gusto as a young princess with every resource at her disposal could. It would take place in the Great Sept of Baelor, obviously, as that was where all royal weddings took place. She would marry a wealthy foreign diplomat, or even better, a foreign prince. The guest list would be a mile long, with even more people attending the reception afterwards. Above all else, she remembered wanting one of those ridiculous many-tiered cakes and a hideous confection of tulle and lace for a dress. 

Of course, as Dany got older, the wedding day dreams were replaced with visions of a career and increasingly less domesticality. If nuptials ever presented themselves, she would go the quick and easy route of elopement. Anything else was frilly fantasy. 

Except now, those things were tangible and real. And the only thing that survived of her childhood wedding plans was the foreign prince, the only thing she didn’t have a say in. 

The Queen commandeered an old study near Dany’s guest room to be their official wedding planning headquarters. The whole space transformed and lost in the madness of planning two royal weddings in the span of a month.

In order for all the kinks to be worked out on the paperwork and numbers part of the treaty, Dany and Jon needed to be married as soon as possible. On top of that, both families were convinced they could sell the out-of-the-blue engagement as a whirlwind, love at first sight romance. Which meant they were stuck with a very limited window to get everything planned to the high expectations of the most important wedding of the decade. Maybe even the century. 

 Catelyn sat opposite of her with Elia and the Palace Event Planner, their electronic forms attentive on the screens. The Royal Event Planner from the Stark side was going over more options for color schemes. 

They’d ruled out Targaryen red and black unanimously and Dany shot down both the mauve and dusty pink options. She’d had enough of those colors in her youth. Varys always insisted she wear pink to everything important, as all unmarried Targaryen ladies did for centuries. The last thing Dany wanted was to deal with it on an already stressful, terrifying day.

The planner pressed a button on her little remote and another color palette appeared. 

“This one consists of laurel green, timberwolf, and a neutral grey,” she reported before continuing on about the reasoning behind the colors. 

“Too much green,” Dany said with only slight disinterest, reaching for a ring of fabric swatches near her.

“The ceremony is taking place in Godswood, the last thing we need is more green.” Catelyn agreed.

As Dany ran her hands over the pieces of cloth, she noticed a familiar color. 

“What about this one?”

She held the burgundy swatch up so everyone in the meeting room could see, including the two virtual guests. Deeper than Targaryen red and verging on purple, it was the same color as the heart-shaped leaves of the Weirwood tree.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Catelyn cooed.

Elia voiced her approval at the same time.

“Could you create a palette around this and bring it tomorrow?”

“I can have it to you tonight, Your Highness.” She collected the sample and made a note.

“Thank you. And there’s no rush,” Dany smiled.

Once the meetings were over she hoped to avoid anything marriage related. She looked at the long list they still needed to cover. At least we’re getting somewhere. 

“Next item of business is wedding party assignments,” the planner continued.

“Since this marriage involves someone who is first in line for the throne, candidates for bridesmaids and page boys are selected by proximity to the royal family as well as status within the court. Here is a list of possible candidates.”

A list of potential bridal attendants landed in front of her. Rhaenys and Aegon were at the top of their respective categories along with Sansa, Arya, and Bran but the rest of the list was names she was unfamiliar with. 

“Lyanna Mormont would be a good choice. The Mormont’s have always been strong supporters of House Stark and her grandfather, Jeor Mormont, is currently Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. Choosing her would be a statement about your commitment to the Night’s Watch, who defend our Northern Borders.” Catelyn suggested.

Dany made a star by the name and surveyed the rest; Karstark, Maderley, Tallheart. She wanted Missandei as her maid of honor but knew better than to suggest it. It wasn’t her wedding. Technically, it was a transaction between the heir and the useful spare. Everything had to follow tradition.

She expected there to be limits on what liberties could be taken. Rhaegar and Elia’s wedding was much the same way, everything decided for them and all they had to do was show up and say the words. It all looked sparkling and magical to fourteen year old Dany as she watched from the audience with the other bridesmaids. 

Another list was set in front of her but this time she knew the names. They were the great houses of Baratheon, Tyrell, Arryn, and Tully. There would be at least one bridal attendant from each region and with the wedding between Cersei Lannister and Robert Baratheon, there was a spot open. Dany marked another star by Myrcella’s name and continued to survey them.

“We don’t have to have them all decided today, but within the next few days is preferable. We still have to send out the invitations and notify the choices for bridal attendants,” the planner reminded the room as Dany placed the selective list into the binder holding all of the wedding plans.

The mockup of the new couple’s cypher was tucked inside the cover, an intertwined D and J with a crown over it. It was strange to see her initials with someone else’s. 

According to Catelyn, a traditional Northern royal wedding ceremony included a processional, presentation of a sword, exchanging of vows and rings, changing of the bride's cloak, and recessional. 

“I’m sure we have a maiden’s cloak somewhere in this palace. They were in fashion once,” Elai stated, “I’ll have someone start looking as soon possible. Unless, Dany wants to commission a new one but that would tie up the seamstresses.”

“I was actually thinking we could exclude the changing of the cloak,” Dany spoke up.

The look she gained from the room wasn’t what she would describe as pleased. 

“It’s been performed at wedding’s for centuries,” Catelyn argued.

“Well, then, what if we altered it. A veil, cloak, and dress is a lot of layers but if we substituted something else. Like…”

To be honest, Dany hadn’t thought her suggestion through and as she frantically racked her brain for an example, she remembered Sansa’s festival outfit and the particular piece of sparkle that caught her eye.

“A brooch.”

“A brooch, Your Highness?” the planner questioned.

“Yes.”

“I think it’s a lovely idea. There are certainly more dragon pins in our collection than cloaks,” Elia offered, being the only obvious supporter of Dany in the room at the moment.

“We would need to discuss it further,” Catlyn sighed, writing something down.

It was the first time one of Dany’s suggestions garnered such a reaction from Catelyn and she was especially grateful she hadn’t suggested Missandei be in the wedding party.

“Now, there is one more tradition that we would like to keep. The first dance is always performed as a choreographed reel.”

“Choreography?” Dany bleated.

“Dany, you’ve taken dance lessons,” Elia tried to reassure her.

“When I was twelve. And something tells me this is a completely different wheelhouse than ballet and ballroom.”

Catlyn spoke up, “Not entirely but it does require a few sessions to get everything smooth. Unless you want to do away with that too.”

The way the Queen’s eyes settled on her was a warning and a challenge. As if speaking against her would bring the whole wrath of the North upon Dany. 

She straightened and tilted her chin a fraction, “I haven’t made my mind up yet.”

The wedding planner cleared her throat. Dany took that as her sign to let the moment pass and return to the task at hand. 

“We usually broadcast the ceremony but given the circumstances we’ve decided against it,” the planner informed, “but there will be a photographer there to capture everything.”

At least she wouldn’t have to deal with bloggers analysing every angle and glance. 

Her phone buzzed next to her and she turned it over out of curiosity. The notification expanded even though Dany didn’t want it to, revealing the news headline about her engagement. Her throat tightened and she squeezed her eyes shut as she took a deep breath. For most of the morning she’d been able to sit through the planning session with a detached sense of reality, like she was watching someone else flip through books of swatches and check items off lists. 

“Your Highness, are you alright?”

“Could you all excuse me for a moment?”

Dany stood and walked from the room with as much control as she could. As soon as the door closed her pace quickened. She wasn’t sure where she was headed but the more distance she put between herself and the wedding business the better she would feel. It took a flight of stairs and several turns before she was satisfied, only to realize she was absolutely lost.

With only one tour of a place as massive as Winterfell, there was no way Dany wasn’t going to get turned around. The sounds of a conversation came from a room down the hall. As she approached the details of the exchange became clear.

“I mean, this woman hasn’t had a single long term relationship in her life and suddenly she’s up and engaged to a man with a much higher rank after a week.”

She knew at once what they were talking about and rolled her eyes. Jon wasn’t that much higher ranked. 

The door was open when she reached the room, so she leaned against the frame. It was a smoking lounge and the conversation was coming from an old radio. Jon sat in one of the leather chairs, engaging in the act that the room was meant for.

“I’ll tell you what it is, it’s southern imperialism.”

The second person laughed.

“You shouldn’t listen to this shit,” she warned, a hint of teasing in her voice, “It’ll rot your brain.”

When Jon looked up, she stepped into the room, crossing to sit next to the radio as well. The room had a masculine energy about it that Dany was smitten with. Dark wood and leather, the stone around the fireplace and the sleek bear pelt on the shining wood floor, just one of the many hunting trophies on display with old weapons.

“A King should always listen to what his people have to say,” he remarked.

“To genuine criticism, but this is just conspiracy and gross speculation.”

The radio personality continued, “We’re allowing this foreign woman access to the ear of the most important person in our country. Now, what do you think she’s gonna do with that kind of power?”

“Push her own agenda.”

“Exactly, her southern agenda. She may have had people fooled at the Midsummer festival with that traditional dress stunt, but I was not impressed.”

She scoffed. The outfit wasn’t meant to be a PR stunt. Sansa suggested it and Dany agreed but they failed to consider that Dany was actually a nice person who wasn’t putting on a front.

And as for pushing her southern agenda, Dany wished they knew how much she loathed her brother and refused to impart his plans on anyone. Especially after the text message she’d received from him the other night, demanding her to hurry up and seal the deal. It was then she figured out how to work the whole ugly mess to her advantage. 

No matter where in the world she ran, she still had to answer to her brother and the Crown. And renouncing her titles was a hassle with too many negative repercussions, including Rhaegar’s thinly veiled threat of black listing her if she did. But in his desperate attempt to settle her down, he was handing her an escape plan on a silver platter. 

It wasn’t the sort of liberation Dany was looking for but it was the only kind she was going to get. And if it weren’t for the hysteria surrounding the weddings, she might have counted down the days like she did before her departure to university, with giddy anticipation.

As she brought her attention back to the radio personalities and their outlandish theories, she let herself sink down into the club chair. It was much more comfortable than the wooden one she sat in all morning and she was past caring if she wrinkled her business casual ensemble.

“While I’m with you on imperialism, I think there is a more obvious reason they’re engaged so soon and that is Princess Daenerys’ wardrobe. If you didn’t know, the Targaryen’s hosted their annual charity gala and the dress she wore was … putting a lot on display, to put it delicately.”

“I know what you’re talking about. Is there not a dress code at that court? Not that it matters, I mean, we all know about her nip slip-”

We’re still on that? She supposed the news cycle in the North was slower, allowing people like the two morons on the radio to focus their attention on something the South already considered old news. That would take some getting used to.

“You know, they said that picture was doctored,”

“Yeah right. At least Prince Jon knows what he’s getting in bed because there is a popular interview with her ex-lover Khal Drogo, he compared her to-”

“Could you turn it off, please,” Dany asked, not wanting to hear what came next.

“Gladly,” Jon answered.

She reached for the cigarette case without a second thought and slid one free, Jon lit it for her.

“So, tell me the truth. Are you really a spy for your brother?”

“What?” she choked on her laugh, not expecting that particular statement.

“The seductress of the south sent her to infiltrate the royal family and sell our secrets to foreign enemies,” he said with humor in his voice.  

“I can assure you I’m not. Whatever nefarious plans my brother has at work, he hasn’t included me in them. Not that I’d want to be a part of his scheming.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“I’m not,” Dany laughed.

“Promise?”

“I, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, first of her name, Princess Royal of the United Kingdoms of Westeros, and Lady of Dragonstone, promise that I am telling the truth. And when I make promises, I don’t break them.”

She lifted her cigarette back to her lips.

“I thought you were supposed to be in top secret wedding meetings all day.”

“We were in the middle of discussing the ceremonies and I needed to take a breather.”

“Let me guess, tradition?”

Dany groaned, “I’m going to be sick of that word by the time this is all over.”

“You get used to it.”

She wasn’t so sure. Her whole life was dictated by that word, and it wasn’t going to change anytime soon. But while the Northern traditions were a thorn in her side at the moment, 

She considered him for a moment, “You should come to them.”

“I don’t think I’d be of any help.”

“Yes you would. Right now, it’s me against Her Majesty and as much as we both dread it, it’s still our wedding.”

“What did you do to make Catelyn dislike you?”

“I merely suggested we re-evaluate a certain element of the ceremony and she acted like I insulted her entire life’s work.”

“As far as she’s concerned you did. Besides, if I showed up, there would be two people in the room she hates.”

“Exactly! Maybe she won’t even come. But it’s not her fault. There are so many rules about these weddings and she’s just trying to make sure everything goes smoothly. Now that I’m thinking about it, it would be more helpful if you weren’t first in line for the throne.”

“Not fair. That is all I have going for me,” he complained.

“Oh, whatever.” exclaimed Dany as she rearranged herself in the chair, folding her legs underneath her so she could lean on the arm and face Jon full on.

“You expect me to believe that you’re oblivious to the goo-goo eyes that get thrown at you everywhere you go?”

He threw up his hands in surrender.

“Oh my gods.” Dany shook her head.

“Okay, answer me this, if I wasn’t heir to a vast country who you happened to be engaged to and you met me at a bar, what would you do?”

Dany looked him up and down, trying to look like she was seriously considering his question. She already knew her answer, she’d admitted it to herself that night in the greenhouse. I wouldn’t hesitate to add you to my list. But hookups and marriage were different things with a common denominator and she didn’t want her answer misunderstood.

“Well?” he asked.

“Now I don’t want to answer it,”

It was his turn to roll his eyes at her.

A voice from the doorway called, “Your Highness”.

They both turned their heads. It was Ser Jorah and Dany sighed in relief even though she knew she was being dragged back into the wedding fray.

“Her Majesty wanted me to let you know the florist is here.”

Dany nodded and snuffed the butt of her cigarette into the ashtray. When she stood, she saw that her pants and blouse weren’t wrinkled and was relieved. 

“Have fun,” Jon said as she headed for the door.

Despite her best efforts, a chuckle and smile escaped her.

“I’ll try.”

#jonerys #jon snow x daenerys targaryen #jonerysfanfic #jonerys fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 link

[janiedean]

You could always write Jaime feeling satisfied that he bought a nice fan with his hard worn money that has nothing to do with the Lannister money. Sincerely, Cracktastic. I hope all is well with you, Lavi.

you know what I need to finish something, so: THANK YOU FOR THE INPUT DEAR ;) (also... I mean it’s moderately well tho it could be better, but still uu thanks for asking TT)

--

Thing is: Jaime is on a budget. He knows he’s on a budget. He’s known since he was cut off, and good riddance to it as hard as it’s been to adjust to not have all the money in the world conveniently at your disposal. But at the end of it... his one-room apartment with the kitchen corner and a separated bedroom and the bed on the mezzanine feels less of a trap than the Lannister manor used to be, he doesn’t miss his father nagging at him to take his job at the company more seriously nor Cersei treating his room like hers and never give him any privacy whatsoever before cutting things off between them with a three-lines note that she sent to his email a day before announcing her wedding to Robert Baratheon for financial reasons.

Honestly, Jaime had thought, what the fuck was he even still doing there? Tyrion had slammed the door years ago and he’d been thriving, so why the fuck shouldn’t he, when it was obvious that Cersei didn’t really give a fuck about him either way after all and he never wanted to work for the family company anyway and since in theory they worked together but Cersei was in charge she should at least have told him something about it, and she didn’t?

So, he left. Cersei hasn’t even contacted him since. Shows how much she really cared, he supposes, though he also supposes she will show up when she needs him for something, and at that point he thinks he will slam the door in her face when she does, but - that’s beside the point.

The point is: he’s on a budget but his small fridge broke down and he needs a new one, so he’s at the nearest electronics store to find a replacement, and he did, and he’s strangely surprised that he could find some that seemed perfectly fine that also didn’t cost an eye, and patience if they don’t have an ice dispenser. He’s within budget, and he’s on the way to the check-out where the salesperson said his purchase would be arranged... when he sees it.

Now, he technically doesn’t need a new fan. He has a perfectly serviceable one he bought for five bucks when Tyrion brought him to a used electronics sale when he was trying to get the essentials for the new apartment - admittedly, Tyrion had offered Jaime his couch for a while if he needed it, but... he really just wanted to be on his own and not relying on anyone else and so he said no -, and... well. It’s summer. It’s hot. He needed it. But the one he has is old, has three blades that make a hell of a lot of noise and recycles the same air every time, and the three speeds it has somehow never seem to be quite what he needs. Anyway: it works. He could survive until the weather calms down.

But the one he’s looking at on the way to the check-out... is really, really nice, he thinks. Actually, it’s... very pretty. It doesn’t have any blades, nor any buttons - has to work on some kind of touch system -, and it’s shaped like an egg, with an oval space in the middle and what looks like the commands on the bottom.

“Are you interested?” One of the salesgirls asks.

“Uhm,” he asks, “can I try how it feels with... the air?”

“Of course,” she smiles. “The exposition model is over there. Follow me.”

He follows her.

Oh, he thinks after she turns it on, it really is nice. The air doesn’t feel recycled, in comparison to his old one it’s practically silent, it turns on itself in a circle so it can provide fresh air to the entire room, it has three speeds as well but somehow it doesn’t mean it gets noisier as his old one. He also likes the blinding white color of it. He’s not surprised it’s a Targaryen fan, that company all has fancy-looking pieces of electronics after all. But - well. It really is pretty.

He’s also on a goddamned budget. Still -

“Hm,” he asks, “and how much would it be?”

The girl smiles wider and rattles out the price.

Oh. It’s not that much. They have sales right now so it does make sense, and - okay, fine, he’s on a budget, but he has saved up these last few months, and while his monthly paycheck at the local gym famous for training kids at an extremely affordable price isn’t the kind that lets you splurge (good thing they hired him the moment they said his extensive CV when it came to fencing and swimming competitions in university that he had to give up because of working in the fucking company), he’s made some money on the side fencing during medieval fairs and the likes, and even if he’s still budgeting... it wouldn’t put such a dent in his growing savings.

Also, he has earned the damned money himself. The thing costs seventy bucks when Targaryen electronics usually are never less than a hundred a piece, whatever it is. And it really would look nice on the floor instead of taking up unnecessary space on his only desk.

Ah, fuck it.

“You know what,” he says, “I’m taking it. Add it to the fridge I already bought, if you please?”

“But of course,” the girl smiles. “Should we deliver both at your house? Free of charge during sales.”

“Certainly,” Jaime smiles back. He doesn’t cringe when he takes out of his wallet his new, not gold-anything credit card.

--

Three hours later, he’s cooking dinner with the new fan freshening the room from the floor. It’s blessedly silent, turning on itself slowly at mid-speed. He’s not hearing the blades whooshing loudly anymore, and considering that he did paint the entire place white himself from the ground up when he got it with the last of his mother’s trust fund money left for him, it really does match the apartment.

He smiles to himself.

Who’d have said that using his damned money to buy egg-shaped fans would have felt so satisfying? Not him a year ago... but he thinks he likes how it is.

Well, he does have a good feeling about this whole handling shit on his own business for now. And if he can have it while not dying of heat, even better.

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #ch: jaime lannister #my fic #sorry it doesn't even have ships but #the adventures of jaime buying the fans I like I guess #only slightly less toxic than chernobyl's ruins #anti-cersei lannister #anti-cersei #anti-jaime x cersei #ty dear AT LEAST I FINISHED A THING AFTER A MONTH #I'M FEELING BLESSED #even if it's like 700 words probably #Anonymous #ask post

[thelawyerthatwaspromised]

We Really Need to Talk About the Forehead Kiss Scene

Consider this another iteration of the Sansa and Jon “Would that be so terrible?” scene that I covered a little while back.

For a lot of people that believe that Jonsa will happen, the scene on the battlements in “The Winds of Winter”, the finale episode of the sixth season of Game of Thrones, is the starting point of that belief.

It’s unusually sweet, as Jon and Sansa scenes tend to be. It’s almost semi-unnecessary to the plot. It’s the last we see of Jon before it’s revealed that he is the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, making this decidedly un-sibling like interaction with Sansa a bit less suspicious except upon rewatch. (Sidenote, imagine if this scene took place after we learned about R+L=J...)

But a lot of Jonsa skeptics (I’ll call them that though there are obviously varying degrees of this such as “venomous”) seem unable to understand why this particular scene feels so different from just about every single other scene on the show. To me, there are multiple factors that make this particular scene unique from any other on the show.

It’s an almost perfect example of a “romance setup” from multiple angles.

1.) It didn’t really advance the “plot”

For some reason, this scene was included among the 10 most crucial scenes of the series by HBO pre-season 7 buuuuut not a lot happened at face value.

Jon had just banished Melissandre for burning someone alive (inquisitive emoji) and was watching her leave on the battlements. He’s approached by Sansa. She says she’s sorry. He credits her for winning the battle. They say they need to trust each other. They leave. So why is a “recap of events” considered a crucial scene? Why was it on the show at all? Viewers wanted to know what Jon was going to do about Sansa arriving with the KotV and if they were going to have a conflict about it. Except that part took about 5 seconds. And the opposite happened. 

Similar to the Littlefinger choke scene in season 7, this didn’t really directly affect the actions of the characters in any way. Even if a scene doesn’t advance “plot”, it’s meant to advance the “story”. What happens here between Jon and Sansa? It revealed something between the two of them that wasn’t revealed simply through the dialogue. It’s inclusion in the show at all should leave you wondering about its purpose, but the added layers of the length, framing, and use of reaction shots should make it fairly obvious that it’s a romantic scene.

2.) Both characters are pleasantly surprised by each other’s tenderness towards the other

I think to really grasp this scene, you have to get inside the heads of each character.

Normally, any surprise in Game of Thrones is a bad thing. The strange quality of the battlements scene is that it’s an inversion of the normal routine. We need to take a step back and evaluate the psychology of Jon and Sansa as they’re entering.

Jon has just banished the person who resurrected him. He’s just won a battle that he knows he should have lost. He’s clearly been quite introspective about Sansa and what she meant and her importance in winning the battle since he’s already preparing her chambers. Somehow, the tent scene is magnified in its intensity because this scene is its exact opposite and it’s where we last left off with Jon and Sansa.

Sansa pleaded with Jon to listen to her.

To be fair to Jon, it’s hard to understand what Sansa is saying but instead of trying to understand her more, he allows them to be dead locked and unable to finish their thoughts.

and it ends with Jon’s sad resignation that he desperately wants to win but he’s not sure if he can.

So this was the last time they spoke privately before the battle. Jon feels guilt for failing to listen. Sansa feels guilt for calling in Littlefinger, an option neither she nor Jon would have wanted.

Then - their relationship suddenly became stronger because of the weakness they revealed to each other. Instead of punishing each other, they forgive each other. Instead of gloating, Sansa reaches out and expresses to Jon that she never wanted it that way. Instead of holding it against Sansa, Jon reaches back and validates her importance in multiple ways.

The most rewarding part is how they each give wonderful gestures to each other in turn without being prompted.

He’s publicly affirmed her place as the Lady of Wintefell...

She objects but only because she thinks he should be seen as the head of the family...

Sansa tells him he should take it. Jon responds with a sad smile and says he’s not a Stark. And then Sansa gives Jon the most gentle but meaningful affirmation that he’s ever gotten on the show...

“You are to me.”

(I decided halfway through this to leave the text off the gifs because I want the focus on the micro expressions of the actors because...damn...)

What else could anyone say to Jon that would mean more to him at this point? His entire life has been marked by his non-Starkness. Sansa is working to undo the biggest source of his sadness without his ever asking for it.

Jon’s gift to Sansa is recognition and it comes in two parts;

1) “You’re the Lady of Winterfell.” He was right there as Lyanna Mormont referred to her as a Lannister and a Bolton. He was right there as Lord Glover looked right into her eyes and told her that House Stark is dead. No. Jon is determined that those statements are to be corrected.

2) “We’re standing here because of you.” He’s not just “gifting” her the position and the lord’s chamber. She’s earned it in his eyes. Her place is meant to be elevated above his at this point. This is before he was crowned as king. He was content for her to be in charge until he was thrust into the position of command.

So what does Sansa do? He’s just basically said “you were right” and she has a chance to respond. Does she gloat? Does she say “well yes I suppose I am the last remaining Stark (that we know of) and so I should rule our house...I also command the loyalty of the Vale”? None of that, she apologizes to him. She’s still expecting his anger and disappointment and feels she deserves it.

And it makes sense. Leave aside that it was absolutely necessary for Sansa to bring in the KotV and ask yourself “when was the last time Sansa was ever actually rewarded or treated gently by someone she thought she wronged?” She’s existed in a constant state of punishment since Littlefinger betrayed Ned in the throne room in season 1. Misery is her expectation. Her expression as Jon approaches confirms this exactly.

Part is her actual guilt, and I’m sure part of it is an expectation based on her experiences...and to her pretty obvious surprise, Jon does the exact opposite.

HA. You’ll have to wait for the kiss gifs because I want to change gears now.

The entire last section was explaining why this scene was so unexpected given the context of the setup. Both characters had reasons to treat the other harshly. Jon for his stubbornness. Sansa for not telling Jon about the Vale. All the components were there to reinforce an ongoing feud between the two. These were the factors commonly cited by those oh-so-brilliant Starkbowl predictions leading up to season 7. 

Yet despite that tension, we didn’t get a shouting match and glares and future plotting. We got a moment of clarity for once...and a whole new set of questions about these two. The beauty of their quiet moment together was in its simplicity - but also in the way that the writers indicated that there was so much more going on than we could have ever known.

Yet all of this information is packed into a scene that’s so quiet and slow. It’s in the romantic pacing.

3.) The Pacing

Jon and Sansa have had always had a distinct strangeness to their scenes in that they’re almost all completely different from any other. Their reunion was a moment of triumph for any Stark fans as they were the first two reunited since the pilot episode. Their fireside chat started incredibly sweet and ended with the heightened stakes of Sansa attempting to convince Jon to re-take Winterfell. The Pink Letter scene is the realization that their little oasis was about to meet the realities of a harsh world that still viewed both of them as threats. 

The cloak scene where Sansa gifts Jon a Stark cloak after Jon takes keen interest in Sansa’s new dress is another moment where each took the initiative to validate the other without any prompting. 

They argued twice, while at the encampment and in the tent before the battle, but each scene was unique as Sansa indirectly criticized Jon’s decisions to follow Davos considering Stannis’ ultimate failure, and Jon mostly tried to tune Sansa’s arguments out - while the tent scene is where those complaints came into a direct collision. 

Then they met on the battlements and it was equally emotional but in a total reverse of tone. 

Simply put, this scene was about “Jon & Sansa” as an entity and not about “Jon” having a talk with “Sansa”. It’s all in the pacing and it’s all in the framing.

We already know the setup. Now comes the payoff. Jon has already told Sansa they need to trust each other. That would be the “plot” purpose of the scene. As far as things happening that affect the story directly, it could have ended right there. “It’s ok Sansa. We’re a team now.” Or, alternatively, Jon could have kissed Sansa’s forehead and THEN said they need to trust each other and the tone could be viewed entirely differently. Instead, the show disposed of the “textual” purpose of the scene and continued right through with the “subtext” (which also continued into season 7) which is: what exactly is the nature of Jon and Sansa’s relationship?

It’s not just the forehead kiss. It’s not just the romantic back drop. It’s not just the setup. It’s not just the micro expression of the actors. It’s not just that the whole scene is relatively unnecessary. It’s all of that mixed together.

This is where the pacing comes into play. Let’s recap the scene to this point...

Sansa gets about 13 seconds of an entrance before Jon tells her he’s having the lord’s chamber prepared for her.

Sansa waits 3 seconds before answering “mother and father’s room?”

Jon waits about 3 seconds before he says he’s not a Stark.

Sansa answers “you are to me” almost immediately.

Jon has roughly a 5 second reaction shot. 

There’s about a 5 second pause after Jon gives Sansa credit for winning the battle before Sansa starts apologizing.

Sansa says sorry and Jon waits about 6 seconds before he even starts walking over to her.

There’s about 3 seconds between Jon saying they have enemies and him reaching up to kiss her.

Jon gets roughly 3 seconds to kiss Sansa and about 4 seconds of gazing at her (and her gazing at him). They make this moment last.

Then they transition into a micro expression that juuuuust says everything.

The second Jon closes his lips, he looks down and abruptly starts to walk away. But his mood has immediately turned almost melancholy or sort of a confusion. It’s not normal to kiss someone tenderly and then just turn around and leave. Even if it were entirely platonic. There’s something left unsaid...especially since the camera focuses on the post-kiss for almost 6 seconds altogether before Jon starts to leave. Viewers aren’t the only ones left a bit bewildered. 

Sansa’s reaction tells the same story.

She stands in the same position, almost frozen. She’s internally probably as confused as Jon. She came to Jon to apologize (remember, she approached him) - which I’m assuming she would have been dreading. She got her apology, and he delivered his form of “there’s nothing to forgive” which would normally signal that her part here is over. Yet he initiates physical affection for her when positive physical affection is something that’s a very complicated subject for her.

And it stuns her. As he begins to leave, we see her expressing that she doesn’t want the moment to end.

It’s ridiculously beautiful. Sansa finding a reason for Jon to get one last look, right after he had turned away in sort of Byronic melancholy, only to have her call him back again is extremely romantic given what we know about both of these characters.

The immediacy of Jon’s response in turning back towards her and the utter-seriousness of his look again makes the end of this scene a twist of its own. 

“Winter is here.” That phrase is of course a play off of “Winter is coming” the words of House Stark and the ominous warning of fear and looming destruction echoed throughout the entirety of the series. Those words should mean “fear”; real “fear”. (also take note of her deliberately deep breath as her eyes scan Jon again..)

And how do they react to this potentially terrifying threat? By being adorable again!?!?

Well of course they do. Because winter is here and they are home. Think about this. Being together (moments after entering a scene which they both began reluctantly) is enough to make them smile sweetly as they acknowledge the coming storm.

And the end really cements Jon’s view of Sansa as a noble lady.

And the pure joy Sansa feels as the scene concludes.

To wrap up...the scene didn’t have to happen in the first place. The setup made you wonder if there was going to be fracture. It was tender. It was warm. It’s pacing made you sit and take notice. It didn’t waste any time - it took its time.

We were meant to see not just the displays of forgiveness and validation by Jon and Sansa towards each other. We were meant to see them expecting the worst and getting something beautiful instead. We were meant to see them wrestling with the confusion of where the scene was heading. We were meant to see them completely comfortable in each other’s presence in this very moment - and we were meant to see a very subtle but also very unsubtle indication that the direction of their relationship is causing (and must cause) them inner conflict before it can truly provide them fulfillment. 

They weren’t a royal couple in this scene but I’m fully confident that after the finale season has concluded, this scene will be the one everyone can point to and say “this is where Jon and Sansa ending as king and queen truly became possible.”

#jonsa #jon x sansa #king and queen in the north #jonsa is endgame #tltwp meta

[asoiafdrabbles]

III.37

Aegon would free his little brother from the Usurper Queen.

Gen (suggested Arya/Jon) (Queen in the North Arya AU)

Aegon hated Arya Stark from the beginning. It was bad enough knowing that Robb Stark had been crowned King of two of his family's kingdom, but after finally taking King's Landing to find out some girl years younger than him had claimed two kingdoms while he was warring against their mutual enemy was too much.

Worse was when news of Aemon reached him, his little brother in a Usurper Queen's court.

He'd gone North because he knew he had to. He had the most Southron kingdoms in his grip, the ones that could independently survive the Winter that the North could not, especially not with the Riverlands still in shambles from the Lannisters. Arya Stark, everyone assured him, would be a fool not to bend the knee.

She did not strike him as a fool when they met. No, she was something else entirely, a twisted dark creature looking out of the face of a relatively plain, though not unattractive, young woman.

A creature with his little brother twisted around her fingers, subservient. What had he done to bewitch him, Aegon had to wonder, because she was Queen before Aemon even knew his true heritage, when surely everyone thought the son of Eddard Stark should inherit over a girl, trueborn or not.

Varys' whispers only confirmed what Aegon had knew from the very moment he met those grey eyes--the Usurper Queen had trained with the Faceless Men. Had used their fel magics.

Bewitching a man could surely not be beyond her. She had wanted the North for her own and had stolen Aemon's will, Aegon decided.

And so Aegon, as best he could while playing at being a gracious ally, tried to awaken some sign of the dragon within Aemon, to burn away whatever hold she had on him. He listened to all of Aemon's mad seeming notions about the Others, sent his men out to help on the Wall, sent food in the name of House Targaryen to the more desperate keeps and towns. Then, as they grew closer, he began to seemingly share his own worries, his own insecurities, with Aemon.

That he would not unite the kingdoms and would feel as thought he had failed their father. That he already felt as though he had failed, for not knowing that Aemon existed and needed him. He spoke of how tragic he found it, that Aemon had to grow up a bastard. That Aemon had felt so much less than those around him he couldn't even follow Robb Stark's will and become King in the North.

Aemon had tried to protest, but by now he cared for Aegon, who was slotting himself into the holes left by the cousins Aemon had lost. He did not argue as he might, instead trying to reason. And each long conversation allowed Aegon to sow more seeds of doubt, to draw him farther away from the Starks.

When Sansa Stark, now Sansa Arryn, reappeared, it showed Aegon that if there were gods, they must favor his cause. For all Aemon claimed she was better to him than she had been as a child, she now didn't treat him as her "half-brother" but as her Targaryen cousin, which was, for Aemon, clearly worse.

Her own clashes with the Usurper Queen, who Sansa saw as usurping her own claim to Winterfell, were behind closed doors but impossible to miss. Soon Aegon had an ally in her--if Queen Arya was out of the way, Sansa and her children would inherit Winterfell, along with the Vale her worthless husband brought with him. Aemon would go South with Aegon as a prince of the blood and the kingdoms would be united.

A strange bedfellow, but Varys had told him of Littlefinger and his songbird apprentice enough for Aegon to know he could trust her to want this...and dispose of her later.

Aemon simply wanted peace, so every fight the Usurper Queen had with Sansa was another wedge driving him towards Aegon. Every reason she gave for staying independent, another reminder to Aemon how different his priorities were.

Even if it took all winter, Aegon knew he would be successful, eventually.

Notes: Anyway, I was rambling about how the only Arya/Jon fics I really like are the ones where Arya becomes Queen in the North, but how every one of them with fAegon end up with him antagonizing Jon, normally because he for some reason gets infatuated with Arya, and how much I dislike that aspect of them.

#character: aegon vi targaryen #character: jon snow #ship: aegon & jon #verse: queen in the north #theme: possessive targs #verse: future fic

[laboratorioautoral]

Try to Sleep With a Broken Heart

To the lovely @circe1fanatic

During the banquet they tried to avoid each other’s gaze. As treaties were signed and speeches inflamed the room, they stood sober in their silences. It was for the greater good, but the greater good often came at the expenses of the hearts of kings, queens and princesses.

Willas Tyrell was twice her age and had a crippled leg. He was handsome although he didn’t seem aware of it. He was intelligent, witty, talented, rich...No matter how advantageous Willas could be as a husband, Arya’s heart still ached as she suffocated words and secrets that could bring kingdoms down.

Jon said nothing. His face had turned into a cold mask and the tension in his jawline was visible to anyone with eyes to see. Arya knew he was ready to see insult in the slightest mistake, so he could kick Willas out and burn the treaty Bran had worked so hard to get.

Daenerys was also aware of it. To the Dragon Queen, Arya couldn’t marry soon enough and move to the other side of the continent and as far as possible from Jon’s eyes. The Targaryen woman would never rest until she had him for herself and sharing Jon was never in her plans. Daenerys was no Visenya, no Rhaenys...She was just a woman in a foreign land, in love with the idea of a family and desperate to win hearts.

Arya could admire the Dragon Queen as someone who fought her way to the Throne and was absolutely unapologetic about it. They were both survivors and they both loved the same man. The difference was that Arya had no Targaryen blood to make her feelings for Jon something easy to accept. That was a level of guilt she wasn’t ready to deal with.

Willas was well aware of all the drama behind the delicate agreement between House Stark and House Tyrell. Arya had bluntly explained to him all of it and expected him to feel disgusted at her. Instead Willas held her hand and kissed her forehead, before telling her that everything would be settled in due time and he wouldn’t demand her love or even the marital duties, unless Arya was willing to give it to him on her own free will.

She found in him a dear friend and they had spent time together so Arya could get used to the idea of marrying the man. Willas could make her laugh and they could talk for hours without the conversation ever becoming boring. It was a good thing, wasn’t it? So why she still wanted to cry whenever she thought about Willas and High Garden?

Lord Tyrell seemed to read her mind at times and just when Arya felt as she was about to crumble down, he held her hand discreetly as if he was silently reassuring her that everything would be fine. Jon saw that and his instinctively rested on the sword’s hilt.

When the feast was over Arya could barely wait to be in the quietness of her room. Willas was kind enough to escort her, even if his leg made it a tremendous effort. Arya figured he wanted to talk to her without anyone near to listen.

“It pains me to see you like this.” Willas finally said in a sad tone. “I’m not stupid, Arya. I can see how hard it’s being to you and you just have to say the world and I’ll cancel everything.”

Arya took a deep breath as she felt even more guilty. She didn’t deserve a man like him. She didn’t deserve Willas kindness or friendship.

“It’s not only about me and you. My selfishness won’t torn the country apart again and...Daenerys is the right choice for him. With dragons at her disposal, I’m not sure how graciously she would face another woman threatening her idea of family.” Arya answered stubbornly.

“Daenerys needs Jon more, than Jon needs her. Dragons will only help so much and I’ve never known about dragon fire stirring passion instead of fear. If she needs coercion to have the man, than she never had him in the first place.” Willas insisted with kindness. “I would love it if you could ever feel for me the tenth part of what you feel for him, but I have no illusions. I know I’m too old for you and my leg doesn’t make me any more appealing. You deserve better than a man like me and I won’t force you into this if you tell me that you can’t handle it. I would rather be a good friend, than the man that condemned you to misery. I can find myself another bride and still hold to my word to you and Brandon.”

“You are the one who deserves better than a poor excuse of a lady. I’m terrible at needlework; I can’t sing or write poems...I would make you miserable when you deserve someone who can love you for the wonderful man that you are.” She finally gave in and her tears broke free. “I want to love you, Willas.  I swear I do...Just give me time. Be patient and I promise I’ll do my best to make you happy.”

“At what cost, my dear?” He cupped her cheek with his free hand and make Arya look directly at him. “I know what happened the last time a Lord stood between a she-wolf and her dragon prince. I prefer to think that we learned the lesson and history won’t repeat itself. Yours is a face meant to bring kings and kingdoms to their knees. You were never born to be an ordinary lady. You are too noble at heart and too strong at soul to be anything but a queen in your own right.” Willas kissed her forehead gently as his thumb brushed over her cheek. “I’ll have you for my wife if so you want to be, but I won’t stand between you and your happiness. This war was hard on you, my dearest friend. You deserve to smile again.”

“Thank you.” It was the only thing she could say before hugging him with sincere affection. Willas answered the gesture with his usual and respectful kindness.

Once he was gone and Arya laid in bed hopping that sleep would find her eventually, all the things Willas had promised her came back to her mind. It was a tempting offer. One that she was eager to accept, in spite of all the politics and peace treaties behind that union.

Hours might have passed and Arya was still wide awake as she looked to the fire burning in the fireplace. She wanted to sleep, but how can someone sleep with a broken heart?

Arya heard the door opening behind her and the sound of steps walking toward her bed. For a moment she stood very still, holding her breath and wondering what he wanted.

“Do you love him?” Jon asked in a half strangled voice. If she didn’t know him as she did, Arya would say he had been crying. “I...I need to know this. Before I go mad, and before I can do something very stupid...Tell me that you love him and I’ll swallow my pride and wish you both a happy life together.”

Arya rolled on bed to look at him. He had been crying and the dark circles around his eyes also told her that he hadn’t slept in days. Jon’s hair was a mess as he stood in his breeches and shirt, looking like someone who had tried to shut up all the voices inside his head and failed.

“I don’t.” Arya answered simply. “It’s not about love though. You know it isn’t.”

“Fuck it! Fuck him and Daenerys and everything else! I won’t stay here watching this farce!” Jon nearly growled out of anger, despair and frustration. “Come with me. Let us...Let us go North, or to Braavos...”

“We can’t. You are the King in the North and soon you will marry Daenerys. This is for the kingdoms and for everything we fought for. We can’t destroy the little peace we got out of this...Sickness.” Arya insisted although every word costed her ten years of life.

“Do I make you feel sick?” He asked and she knew that those words hurt him badly.

“Sometimes...When I remember when we used to play together, or as we used to swim and laugh...You will always be my brother in a way and...I am not a Targaryen. I can’t pretend that I don’t feel disgusted for loving you as I do.”

“So blame it on me and my blood for it.” He answered sharply. “I’m done holding back every time I have something I love being taken away from me. I’ll kill him and be done with it. His brother will be delighted to inherit everything and you will be free again.”

“Willas would cancel the marriage if I asked him too. He promised me that much time and time again.” Arya replied bitterly. “He is a good man. He deserves better than to be trapped in this madness. Go back to Daenerys. Try to fuck her again. Maybe you’ll forget about me and move on.”

“Are you doing this out of jealousy? To punish me?” Jon was suddenly divided between shock and rage.

“No. I’m doing this because she is in love with you and has two dragons left. I can’t trust her to accept rejection gracefully.” Arya growled at him as she sat on her bed with a bitter taste on her mouth. “You went to her and asked for help. You should be prepared to pay for it.”

“I died for you. I came back for you. I killed for you.” Jon knelled in front of her with his hands resting on her legs. “You too should be ready to pay the price for being my last and my first thought. You will tell him to cancel the wedding.”

“Then what?” Arya defied him. “Will you tell Daenerys to disappear? Do you think she will without complains or threats?”

“I’ll kill her too, if I must.” Jon’s voice was cold and resolute as he parted her legs and pushed Arya back to bed. “If she refuses to see the obvious...Before that I’ll make it plain and simple for them to understand that you and I...We belong together.”

At that point Jon was on top of her and his hand had already pulled the rem of her nightgown up so Arya would be completely exposed from waste down. His forehead pressed against hers...Arya could smell the wine in his breath and feel him had between her legs.

“You are mine, and I am yours.” Jon whispered. “No other man will have you like this. I won’t allow.”

“You should go back to your room before someone finds out that you are here.” Arya insisted. She tried to push him away, but Jon was too strong and she wasn’t so sure if she wanted to be alone again.

“Let them find out.” His voice was low and dark. “Your good name will be ruined and the world will know that you are mine.”

His mouth covered hers with lust and hunger. It was a harsh kiss, full of rage, jealousy and bitterness. Arya answered it with equal disposition, as if the world was about to end and Jon’s body on top of hers was the only thing that mattered.

She had countless opportunities to tell him to stop and put an end to the madness, but every kiss felt like another reason for her to forget about names, politics and everything else that wasn’t them. Arya let Jon have what he wanted. The comfort of a friend and the eagerness of a lover. It was only when he carelessly entered her, that Arya realized that they had reached a point of no return.

A loud cry escaped her mouth and Jon stood very still for a while. Arya kept her eyes closed as the pain faded and Jon caressed her face. When she opened her eyes, Arya saw them reflected at Jon’s. A shadow of panic, shame and sudden acceptance crossed her face. There was no going back.

From pain to sweetness and the pleasures only passion can inspire...When everything was said and done, they could finally sleep.

#jon and arya #jon x arya #jon/arya #jonarya #jonrya #drabble

[mimi1503]

Jon & Daenerys, why I think he bent the knee and found himself caught in his own trap.

I’d like to go back to Jon’s interactions with Daenerys in season 7 and what they show about Jon’s feelings.

[ English is not my native language so sorry if there are mistakes. ]

Before he left, the Lords, Lyanna & Sansa told him that they could not trust a Targaryen and that it was a trap. Reminding him at the same time of the fate of his grandfather and his uncle. Jon says he must still take the risk.

First interaction with Daenerys, a strong, proud, menacing queen who orders him to bend the knee, not listening to his arguments. Jon is desperate to understand that he has fallen into a “trap”, frustrated at not being listened to, worried about the consequences, etc. He is then made a “prisoner” and thinks only of returning to Winterfell to help his family.

Jon’s second interaction and second attempt at approach, in a less direct and softer way. Daenerys and he still can not get along and his frustration is growing. Nevertheless, the queen makes a concession by allowing him to extract the Dragon Glass and he is grateful to her, hoping that she finally believes him, which is unfortunately not the case.

Then we have a scene where Davos asks what Jon thinks of Dany. In a neutral tone he replies that he thinks she has a good heart. Davos jokes that Jon looking at Dany’s body. To which Jon answers indifferently that he has no time for that. And Jon goes on to the king of the night and the fact that the North has too few men to defend themselves. We can see that Jon have nothing wrong against Daenerys but he has better else to do than to think of a pretty woman.

Third attempt: Jon becomes more charming and sweet, takes the queen to see old drawings showing the threat of white walkers. He managed to reach Daenerys but she still persists that he has to bend the knee, which he refuses again. He explains that his people do not want to be submitted to a sovereign of the South, that they chose him because they believed in him and he can not betray them. During this exchange, for the first time Dany & Jon are no longer in a strong position but just 2 people discussing a threat and what to do. Jon is seen hugely watching the queen, as since their second exchange. He is in observation, analysis. He tries to know her, to understand her, to see her reactions to find HOW to change her mind. As he says himself, nothing matters except the battle against the dead and Jon is desperate to get there.

Fourth Interaction: Daenerys gets angry with Tyrion, blames him for their defeat, and almost accuses him of treason. Jon looks at Davos, embarrassed to have to attend and then seems taken aback and a little annoyed. Then, surprised that Dany suddenly asks him for advice, an “enemy” prisoner. He gives her a wise advice but also seems very cautious in his way of expressing himself and rather annoyed by that at the beginning. It must be said that Jon did not come here to help the Queen fight against her enemies from the South, nor to advise her. He came for allies for a much bigger war.

Fifth interaction: Jon succeeds in touching Drogo, which marks the beginning of Dany’s true feelings for him (she is immediately more smiling, confides more etc …). Jon, although attracted by the dragons, sees them for what they are (a weapon of mass destruction). When he begins to say he does not think about the word “beautiful” about them, Dany glares at him and we see Jon immediately siding on her side, and agree. He does not want to offend her, he wants her to be well disposed to him because he needs her. Throughout their discussion, he often looks at her in an observant way, he analyzes her again by her words and actions. When Jorah returns, Jon still watches Daenerys.

Sixth interaction: Jon reiterates his desire and his need to go home to prepare the defenses of his house. He shows his exasperation at Daenerys by pointing out that even with few men he will do what is necessary unless she finally agrees to be his ally. But Daenerys is obsessed with Cersei. Finally, there is the idea of bringing back evidence. When Jon declares that he is going to go and Daenerys reminds him that she is holding him back and has not given him permission, Jon gets angry and reminds her sharply that he is king and that he does not need his permission.

Seventh interaction: Here he is about to leave, he bids farewell to Daenerys the mind already focused on his mission and goes away without a look back unlike Jorah.

I think it’s important to point out that Jon, in most scenes with Daenerys where he’s not really trying to convince her (cave, meeting) or observe her (dragon), has his gaze fixed on the ground or towards the horizon. As if his mind was elsewhere and he was not really looking at her. As if, apart from making her an ally, these conversations did not interest her.

Then came the famous mission, the rescue, the death of a dragon and Jon wounded.

8th: When he wakes up, after nearly dying, he finds himself face to face with Daenerys. Then start what I call the survival mission. Jon says he’s sorry, catches the hand of the queen, says he would like to go back, etc. He really shows his remorse. Daenerys does not blame him and, on the contrary, invests herself personally in the battle. Jon seems enormously relieved and thanks her by using a nickname that does not seem to be the right one. After a look at her and a deep breath, came the famous “How about my queen? I will have bent my knee but … ” There is an exchange on the lords of the North and the fact that Dany hopes to be worthy of his allegiance. Jon, telling her that she is, really seems to be lying. The way he has to slowly lift his eyelids, to fix his gaze in a very calm manner and to say “you are,” exudes falseness. He is not a very good liar and there is a background of truth in his lyrics which makes this moment special and compelling but not enough for those who have followed Jon for 7 seasons. His new queen then asks him to rest, he closes his eyes but, as soon as she leaves, reopens them, turns, looks up at the ceiling and sighs deeply. This scene is not trivial.

From what I think: Jon was afraid that Daenerys would blame him for the death of her dragon, seeing that she was not doing it, he was reassured but still wanted to be nice to her to avoid any future change of opinion. With his mind confused and taken aback, he finds himself calling her his queen and talking about bending the knee. Words that he does not really think. He is grateful that she have saved them and to finally accept to help them. He has sympathy for her and even a little affection, especially seeing how she reacts: all cute and full of hope. But NOTHING justified him bending the knee. None of their previous scene led to this. And above all, he would never bend the knee barely awake, without having fully recovered his mind etc … He did this on the spur of the moment to put Daenerys in the pocket. Which explains his sigh at the end.

It is important to speak about Jon not telling Davos what he did. He does not say it to Tyrion either. Nobody knows it except Daenerys.

Then comes the big meeting with Cersei. Jon does his little class “How to kill a White in 2 lessons”. And there comes the big problem: Cersei asks him to swear that he will remain neutral in the conflict with Daenerys. Jon seems really annoyed by this request, thinks, looks at Daenerys then makes the decision to announce that he has already pledged allegiance to Daenerys. This deeply shocks Ser Davos.

In my opinion, Jon did not expect things to go that far. He spoke to Daenerys privately, without even physically bending his knee. But then he had to make a decision. To lie by giving allegiance to Cersei which displeased him and thus showed Daenerys that he was able to lie to put a queen on his side (which was a great risk) or officialized his allegiance to Daenerys (this would make the oath truly valid and not a word in the air). He determined that having Daenerys, her dragons and army on his side was more important than the few troops of Cersei (especially if he remembered the words of his sister about the fact that Cersei is not worth their trust). Except now, here he is stuck. Not only does Cersei seem unwilling to help them, but even Daenerys and Tyrion blame him for not lying. Jon then goes on to say that if lies pile up, words lose their meaning. We understand that he is really frustrated by all that.

After this stormy moment, Jon and Daenerys share a rather interesting moment. Jon seems softer towards her and, for the first time, we see him seem to have sincerely affection for her. He is not trying to convince her at this time. They are just 2 young people discussing. Although it seems clear that Daenerys is the one who have the strongest feelings.

She is in love with him, always takes the first step towards him and is the one who confides. Jon is content to listen to her and “support” her in her confidences.

It is only after all this that Jon sends a letter to his sister informing her that he has bent the knee and that he arrives with Daenerys. Although I think it’s not trivial that this letter was shown by the staff and that Jon starts by talking about Cersei who joined her troops to them and then uses exactly the same formula to say that he has pledged allegiance to Daenerys . We can say that Jon makes Sansa understand that for Cersei AND Daenerys, it is not so simple nor honest than that.

Finally, we have one last really weird scene. Jon, hesitating in front of his queen’s room before finally knocking. Then the two sleep together (without having either a first kiss and sexual tension leading to the act).

The fact that Jon seems to hesitate before knocking is important. Despite Daenerys’ feelings and Jon’s attraction to her, it seems clear to me that he is not in love. And that there were not really any intimate moments between them that could lead to this scene. Unlike Dario who flirts with Daenerys for a while before getting into her apartments. In addition, we are talking about Jon.

In my opinion, Jon takes a little desperately the opportunity of the situation and feelings of Daenerys. He is neither manipulator nor calculator. There is truth in what he does. Yes, he’s sorry for her dragon. Yes, she is beautiful. Yes, she attracts him and he has affection for her. Yes, now that it is official, he considers in part that he owes her allegiance. But no, Jon does not love her. No, he will not give up his kingdom just because she has a “good heart”. No, he will not forget where his loyalty is.

We have seen it with the Widlings: sleeping with Ygrid made Jon sure that she was faithful to him against his own people, and the widlings were less suspicious of him. He loved Ygrid though but lied because his true allegiance was to the Night Watch. I think it’s the same here. By ensuring the love of Daenerys, he protects his people. She will be better able to listen to him so that he can better present her to his subjects. That’s why he insists that she comes with him at Winterfell and not on the back of a dragon, that he tells her “if we have to be allies in this war” etc. This is an allegiance provisional to ensure the good continuity of things. As for the continuation, he will see later with his people, his family and Ser Davos. But it is to them that his loyalty goes. And if they decide, after meeting Daenerys, that they still want to be independent, I can not see Jon denying it for them.

I will finally add that I wonder if the attraction of Jon (but also Daenerys) is not also due to their blood Targaryen. That they feel attracted to each other but without knowing why. I think it’s more obvious from Jon’s point of view as he spends most of the season focusing on the king of the night and being frustrated by Daenerys’ rejections. Because despite all that, he is attracted by her without really understanding why. And maybe with time his feelings will grow. We can already see how he has allowed himself a little more in her presence since he announced publicly that he was loyal to her.

We’ll see...

#got #game of thrones #gotseason7 #jon snow #aegon targaryen #daenerys targaryen #jon x daenerys #kit harington #emilia clarke #grr martin #jon bend the knee #liam cunningham #ser davos #anti jonerys

[him-e]

In the interview in wich grrm talks about the unkiss , he says it is to prepare the stage for a more important memory gap what was he refering to ?

The relevant quotes: 

“Well, not every inconsistency is a mistake, actually. Some are quite intentional. File this one under “unreliable narrator” and feel free to ponder its meaning…” (The Citadel, So Spake Martin, Sansa’s memory)

“The Lion’s Paw / Lion’s Tooth business, on the other hand, is intentional. A small touch of the unreliable narrator. I was trying to establish that the memories of my viewpoint characters are not infallible. Sansa is simply remembering it wrong. A very minor thing (you are the only one to catch it to date), but it was meant to set the stage for a much more important lapse in memory. You will see, in A STORM OF SWORDS and later volumes, that Sansa remembers the Hound kissing her the night he came to her bedroom… but if you look at the scene, he never does. That will eventually mean something, but just now it’s a subtle touch, something most of the readers may not even pick up on. (The Citadel, So Spake Martin, SF, Targaryens, Valyria, Sansa, Martells, and more)

Note that George has Sansa mixed up with Arya in the second quote, because it’s Arya, and not Sansa, who misemembers the name of Joffrey’s sword. So George, too, is an unreliable narrator!

All joking aside, it’s clear that with the Unkiss and with other instances (such as Sansa not remembering correctly the events of the Trident), Martin is trying to establish Sansa as a particularly unreliable narrator: her mind tends to rewrite reality to make it fit into familiar patterns, the ones she learned from the songs, where knights steal kisses from their ladies rather than threatening them with a dagger, pretty princes generally tend to be good and villains are always easy to identify. And if there’s something that deeply unsettles her, and that she isn’t ready to deal with yet, it gets swept under the rug… until either she is ready, or reality hits her like a ton of bricks (which happened with Joffrey and Cersei). 

This rewriting/erasure is not a conscious choice on Sansa’s part—in other words, she isn’t aware at all that her brain does this. The Unkiss is the most evident example of this mechanism: there’s no real reason for Sansa to fabricate (not just fantasize about) a false memory of a kiss that never happened, other than the fact that she has no idea how to cope with Sandor’s simultaneously assaulting her and pleading to let him rescue her AND she can’t deal with her own feelings for him, so she rewrites the whole incident into something in which the implied (Sandor’s fixation on her, his instinct to both scare and protect her) becomes explicit, but normalized into a more chaste narrative (a “romantic” kiss).

Now, the big blind spot in Sansa’s narrative—the one that could potentially have huge repercussions on the overall plot—is Littlefinger. Sansa, VERY deep inside, knows something really important about him:

“Tears, tears, tears,” she sobbed hysterically. “No need for tears… but that’s not what you said in King’s Landing. You told me to put the tears in Jon’s wine, and I did. For Robert, and for us! And I wrote Catelyn and told her the Lannisters had killed my lord husband, just as you said. That was so clever… you were always clever, I told Father that, I said Petyr’s so clever, he’ll rise high, he will, he will, and he’s sweet and gentle and I have his little baby in my belly… Why did you kiss her? Why? We’re together now, we’re together after so long, so very long, why would you want to kiss herrrrrr?”

Sansa’s heard Lysa’s last words which revealed Littlefinger as the mastermind behind Jon Arryn’s murder and the Stark/Lannister conflict… yet, her pov shows no traces that she’s aware of this. It’s like she never registered what she heard, and imo the problem isn’t that she didn’t “understand”—I think Sansa is very intelligent and perfectly capable of putting 2 and 2 together and realize what kind of “tears” Lysa put in Jon’s wine and why did LF ask Lysa to lie to Catelyn—but that that information was too overwhelming for her in that specific moment, so she put it aside; and now that she’s completely reliant on Littlefinger, that knowledge is like the skeleton in the closet that her brain is too terrified to revisit. So she just ignores it and keeps going. It’s the only way she knows how to function. And this isn’t the first time that Sansa acquires and immediately shelves away vital information about Littlefinger:

Queen Cersei looked at each of the councillors in turn. “I won’t have Sansa fretting needlessly. What shall we do with this little friend of hers, my lords?” Lord Petyr leaned forward. “I’ll find a place for her.” “Not in the city,” said the queen. “Do you take me for a fool?” The queen ignored that. “Ser Boros, escort this girl to Lord Petyr’s apartments and instruct his people to keep her there until he comes for her. Tell her that Littlefinger will be taking her to see her father, that ought to calm her down. I want her gone before Sansa returns to her chamber.”

This is shortly after Ned’s arrest (AGOT, Sansa IV). Under Sansa’s eyes, Cersei tasks Littlefinger with disposing of Jeyne Poole, Sansa’s best friend. Who we know was put in LF’s brothel where she was raped and abused horrifically only to be sold to the Boltons as Ramsay’s token “Stark” wife. Yet it never occurs to Sansa to investigate on this, and she doesn’t even seem to remember the fact that Littlefinger is probably the person to ask in the first place (we learn later that Sansa did not know what had happened to Jeyne, who had disappeared from her rooms afterward, never to be mentioned again). Another buried/rewritten memory waiting to resurface?

Oh yeah and there’s also this:

As he led her below, he said, “Tell me of the feast. The queen took such pains. The singers, the jugglers, the dancing bear… did your little lord husband enjoy my jousting dwarfs?” “Yours?” “I had to send to Braavos for them and hide them away in a brothel until the wedding. The expense was exceeded only by the bother. It is surprisingly difficult to hide a dwarf, and Joffrey… you can lead a king to water, but with Joff one had to splash it about before he realized he could drink it. When I told him about my little surprise, His Grace said, ‘Why would I want some ugly dwarfs at my feast? I hate dwarfs.’ I had to take him by the shoulder and whisper, ‘Not as much as your uncle will.’ ” The deck rocked beneath her feet, and Sansa felt as if the world itself had grown unsteady. “They think Tyrion poisoned Joffrey. Ser Dontos said they seized him.” Littlefinger smiled. “Widowhood will become you, Sansa.”

The above (ASOS, Sansa V) proves that Littlefinger manipulated both Joffrey and Tyrion—he brought jousting dwarves so that Joffrey could publicly humiliate Tyrion, and give him a “reason” to “murder” him that everyone could see, so to seal Tyrion’s culpability in Joffrey’s assassination. If Sansa considered this through, she’d probably realize that it wasn’t the first time Littlefinger manipulated Joffrey… that maybe he also whispered in the little king’s ear to convince him to behead Ned. But she doesn’t. Yet.

And of course, there is her inability to see/acknowledge/admit that Littlefinger is slowly poisoning Sweetrobin to death. Though she doesn’t have enough knowledge of poisons to understand that a slightly higher dose of sweetsleep can be fatal, she saw Maester Colemon’s anxiety and reluctance to give it to Sweetrobin too often, but, again, she doesn’t seem to register it as a red flag. 

It’s possible that Sweetrobin’s death (or finding out what happened to Jeyne) is the eye opener, the triggering event that unlocks Sansa’s ability to remember correctly what she’s always known, connect the dots between the hairnet, Sweetrobin’s poisoning, Littlefinger’s behind the scenes manipulation of the Purple wedding and Jon Arryn’s death via Lysa’s “tears”, and finally see the bigger picture in Littlefinger’s modus operandi and uncover his role in causing the war of the five kings and her own house’s downfall. (yes, I totally think that Sansa will be LF’s undoing in the books like she was in the show, and that she will ~finish what her father started~ and I mean her REAL father, who died investigating on Jon Arryn’s murder, but could never get as physically close to the truth as Sansa eventually got).

The other instance in which I can see Sansa’s altered memories come into play in a big way is her recollection of the events leading to Ned’s arrest and death, specifically the fact that she mindlessly revealed critical information to Cersei which resulted in her father eventually losing his head. It’s interesting that Sansa rarely ruminates about this in her pov. I think this is one of the memories that cause her the most excruciating pain, so her brain keeps it on a leash, and might have rewritten the entire sequence of events to make her subconscious guilt less unbearable. It’s possible that at some point in her future narrative someone (likely Arya, sort of like what happened in the show) discovers what she did and questions her about that, causing a major crisis in Sansa’s psychological balance (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing).

There might be something even bigger than that coming up (and it’s also possible that Sansa’s memory lapses are preparing the reader for another character’s memory lapse, even), but these are my top guesses at the moment.

#anon #asks #got asks #sansa** #asoiaf spec #the unkiss #sansan for ts #sansa and lf for ts #sansa's memory #grrm #quotes #rape tw #jeyne poole #sweetrobin #unreliable narrators

[masha-russia]

Please know that fans of elia or Brandon have no problem with rhaegar and lyanna being in love and getting a happy ending. Problem only arose when those 2 chose to pursue their happily ever after at the expanse of elia, his children by her, Brandon, Rickard and basically the whole realm. Lyanna is supposedly so moral a person that she can't see howland being bullied yet she doesn't bother coming back an telling everyone that she wasn't kidnapped but consented? This makes no sense.

Hi, thanks for asking,

Before talking about Rhaegar and Lyanna, I’d like to start with Brandon. Brandon Stark has fans? … In this case, I feel like these people don’t know that Brandon Stark was one of the creepiest men in the story. I realize that many may have forgotten, or not truly comprehended, the part of Dance with Dragons that showed us Brandon’s personality, since it was a small part in a Theon chapter. Brandon Stark was a sexual predator. Apart from killing people, which is already bad enough, his other favorite pass time was to sleep with virgins, specifically virgins, because he loved the sight of blood on “his sword” -> "a bloody sword is a beautiful thing”. I know the text is subtle here, but that’s the meaning. And no, Barbery Dustin wasn’t lying. Also, GRRM words: “It’d be an exaggeration to say that Brandon died before he could have children” which translates to “he had plenty of bastards”.

“Brandon loved his sword. He loved to hone it. ‘I want it sharp enough to shave the hair from a woman’s cunt,’ he used to say. And how he loved to use it. 'A bloody sword is a beautiful thing,’ he told me once.”

“Brandon was never shy about taking what he wanted. I am old now, a dried-up thing, too long a widow, but I still remember the look of my maiden’s blood on his cock the night he claimed me. I think Brandon liked the sight as well. A bloody sword is a beautiful thing, yes.”

Brandon Stark was gross. His caring for his sister and father makes him a three dimensional character, but not any less of a creep (edit: and not because of his relation with Barbery which was consensual) I am glad he died, and I have to say, House Stark was lucky he did, because if Brandon became Lord of Winterfell, the reputation of the House wouldn’t be at all as good as it was under Eddard’s rule.

Alright now, you say you have no problem with Rhaegar and Lyanna being in love, only that it happened “at the expanse of Elia and the children”. If you refer to the moral aspect and to the idea that Rhaegar “cheated” on her, I don’t understand what alternatives would satisfy you? Rhaegar was made to marry Elia, it was an arranged marriage, and Lyanna was being forced to marry a man she absolutely did not want. Divorce isn’t an option in Westeros (though judging by the outraged reactions among Elia fans following the news of show Rhaegar divorcing Elia, divorce doesn’t seem to be an option for you either), polygamy isn’t allowed, the only way for Rhaegar and Lyanna to be together is as a non-married couple, sadly. Again, I think Elia was in friendly terms with her husband and supported him. And Rhaegar’s children don’t have a say in his love life. As long as the children are cared and provided for, he did his duty as a parent. As you know, Rhaegar was greatly concerned about the War for the Dawn, and he believed Rhaenys and Aegon would have a role in it, so obviously he would have returned with Lyanna and their child to raise all of his three children together. 

If you refer to their deaths, I already explained several times that you cannot blame Rhaegar and Lyanna for the murders of Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon. They didn’t commit the murder. The responsibility lies with Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch (the actual murderers), with Tywin Lannister (for giving the order), with Robert Baratheon (for wanting to kill all the “dragon’s pawn”) and to an extent with Aerys Targaryen (for refusing to send Elia and the children with Rhaella and Viserys to Dragonstone). Same for Brandon and Rickard. Rhaegar and Lyanna couldn’t have known what would happen, and they certainly didn’t wish for such horrors like the murder of Elia and the children.

Please do not believe that Kingdoms rise in rebellion over highborn girls who elope with noble Princes. “Such stories make for charming songs, but poor history”. Jon Arryn didn’t call his banners because of Lyanna, and not even because of Brandon’ and Rickard’ executions (Aerys was in the right by law to execute them, for threatening a Royal with murder, even though he did it cruelly). He rose in Rebellion when Aerys asked him to kill the innocent (by law) young men he was fostering. Thousands of people won’t go to fight and die in a war for the sake of a girl. Betrothals can be set aside.

“This makes no sense,” you say, not understanding why Lyanna and Rhaegar didn’t inform anyone of their eloping, and accusing them of idiocy and selfishness, or the story of being inconsistent. It is not the story or the characters being inconsistent though, it’s the text screaming at you that there is something wrong with the informations it gave you thus far, and that there are missing pieces of the puzzle. I think it’s evident from the novels themselves, but even GRRM is always elusive when answering any questions about Rhaegar and Lyanna and their actions. Just from one interview:

“Will we learn more about Rhaegar in the next book? Why did he take almost a year to join the fight against the rebels, or why did he kidnap Lyanna?”“You will learn more, but I can’t promise it’ll be in the next book. Keep reading.”

Rhaegar took a year to join the fight because he did not know there was War, and I believe someone was doing his best to keep him ignorant. This someone could very well be Varys - he is a Blackfyre supporter, his wisperings in Aerys’ ear was what made him even more paranoiac and cruel, he was the one responsible for Aerys’s coming to the Tourney at Harrenhal, where it is rumored Rhaegar planned to dispose him as King. If Varys really cared “for the Realm” (he does not), he would have helped Rhaegar, but instead he helped Aerys to keep the Throne while making sure his paranoia and madness grew.

Old Lord Whent had announced the tourney shortly after a visit from his brother, Ser Oswell Whent of the Kingsguard. With Varys whispering in his ear, King Aerys became convinced that his son was conspiring to depose him, that Whent’s tourney was but a ploy to give Rhaegar a pretext for meeting with as many great lords as could be brought together. Aerys had not set foot outside the Red Keep since Duskendale, yet suddenly he announced that he would accompany Prince Rhaegar to Harrenhal, and everything had gone awry from there.

As for not telling anyone of their eloping, again I believe they did tell someone. I strongly suspect Lyanna told Eddard that she fell in love with Rhaegar and that she would run away with him, but Eddard didn’t have the courage to let his father and Robert know. Other people must have been told as well, but again something went awry.

Once Rhaegar joined the war, it was too late to sue for peace. The leader of the Rebellion, Robert Baratheon, declared Rhaegar his number one enemy, so I can hardly see Rhaegar making peace with him. The Kingdoms were fighting, divided between Targaryen loyalists and Robert Baratheon supporters. It’s just not realistic at all to believe Rhaegar could have raised a white flag. Killing Robert would have put an end to the Rebellion, just as killing Rhaegar brought an end to the fighting at the Trident. Rhaegar and Robert were the faces of the War. 

I very much doubt Rhaegar wanted to kill Eddard. It is possible that he gave orders to spare Eddard, for Lyanna.

This is funny. Ok as I said already Rhaegar didn’t know of the war, but … Basically the whole Realm from Dorne to Casterly Rock passing by the North fangirls about Rhaegar, how noble and gifted he was, that he was a true dragon, that he would have been a great King. How exactly did you reach the conclusion that “Canon paints him more as a coward”?

Even Yandel (Yandel!!), who wrote a very biased book (The World of ice and Fire) as he was trying to please King Robert Baratheon, said:

 For despite his crimes, Prince Rhaegar was no coward.

Even he, not a lickspittle exactly but a man who wanted to be in Robert’s good graces, couldn’t bring himself to talk badly of Rhaegar.

I’d gladly come back to this conversation once we get the other two books.

#rhaegar targaryen #lyanna stark #asoiaf meta #brandon stark #elia martell #minemeta #asoiaf #text post #Anonymous

[toaquiprashippar]

A Choice

Can’t believe I’m posting this… This came out after me watching Harry Potter and I’m so obsessed with Game of Thrones/asoiaf that I see it in everything, and after that Dumbledore/Harry scene, I just thought: Dany keeps imagining what her brother was like, she hears so many opinions of him and the histories seem to never quite match. How about him showing up to her in the gates of the after life? I hope you guys liked it.

I posted this at Archive of Our Own too, click here to here it. 

She has a choice to make: rest with her past, or fight for her future. The one person she never expected shows Daenerys what she means to those she has loved, loves and will love someday, and no less important, those who loved her.

What was this place?

It looked a lot like the Throne Room she heard so much about, Viserys would tell her the tales of the dragon skulls disposed on the way to their glorious seat. A thousand swords melted into it.

The same Throne Room she saw at the House of the Undying, except there snow had melted, it was a beautiful sunny day outside, and she could hear children playing somewhere, the Long Night was nothing but a bad dream.

She wasn’t alone. She felt watched, nothing like she did growing up, when her and Viserys were being chased by the Usurpers assassins; but as she was being looked upon, from a close distance.

“My beautiful sister”, she turned around to see a tall, strong, kind-faced version of her foolish brother, somehow she knew it wasn’t that brother.

Rhaegar.

Was she dead, then?

“Rhaegar?” Dany was confused.

“You’ve grown into a fine young woman, Dany. Our Lady Mother would be proud of you, I am sure she is.” He approached, but she could not move, she could only feel the tears in her eyes.

“Don’t cry, little sister. You already cried so much. You are not alone now.” He smiled and she could hold it no longer, the tears strolled down her face. She felt his arms around her and that’s when she found her voice.

“I always dreamed about you. Wondered what my life would be like If it was you beside me, protecting me, not Viserys.” He let her go but he held her hand.

“They say when a Targaryen is born, the Gods toss a coin. Our brother was graced with our family’s madness, naught of our strenght, like yourself.” He smiled at her.

“Am I dead?” Dany thought of Jon, leaving him behind would be so unfair. And her dragons, her children would have Jon but she would miss them.

“Do you want to be dead?” Rhaegar let go of her hand, and walked towards the Throne, she followed.

“Do I get to choose?” Somehow she found it hard to believe. He turned around and smiled at her.

“There’s always a choice.” He answered.

“I didn’t always have a choice.” It was almost a whisper.

“I didn’t have a choice when I was exiled to live across the Narrow sea, without safety, kindness and anything but a name and assassins after me and Viserys. I didn’t have a choice when I was forced to leave behind my lemon tree and my red door.” The tears ran free now, and her voice grew louder and stronger.

“I didn’t have a choice when Viserys sold me, like a broodmare. And I definitely didn’t have a choice when I was all alone in the world and I had nothing to go on with but I still couldn’t give up, not for my children, not for my people, not for my house, I could never never look back, or I was lost.” It felt like the pain of a lifetime was flowing out of her, alongside the tears and she was shaking.

The skies seemed to darken, like a storm was coming, and the children no longer played so loud, like they were further away.

“You did so much more than many of our House ever did, little sister. You did more than any men ever have, you freed slaves, gave them a new life, a second chance. Now It’s time you have one of your own. You can come with me, and rest in peace. You’ll be with Drogo, Rhaego, Viserion and Mother today. I will be there with you too. But you can also stay: You’ll continue to hurt, you will still lose people you love, but you will get far more than you ever hoped it was possible. Jon is praying for you, and my son haven’t prayed in a very long time. I can’t tell you what comes, but I can say no matter what you chose, we will be here, watching over you. You were never alone, little one.” He was holding her hand and it was hard to look back, to go back to the war, to the pain and the fear of losing so much more than she already had.

You were the Mother Of Dragons, Daughter of Death, Slayer of Lies, Bride of Fire. Now you can chose: come with me, leave this pain behind or continue to be so, and rebuild this world, you’ll have Jon beside you. Whatever choice you make, you are alone in the world no more.” He said.

“Who are these children playing outside?” She asked him.

“Aegon and Rhaenys, Rhaego is playing with them too. Our Lady Mother longs to see you, but she will wait how long it takes for your arrival, Dany. There are three other children playing there, waiting for their time to ascend. Another choice for you to make. My son would survive without you, but I can assure you, he would never be truly happy, Daenerys. Would you be happy here, with us, waiting for his old age?”

She could be with her family, in peace, today. But she wouldn’t be with Jon. He was praying for her. She was praying for him too. His embraces, his voice, his love.

How could she ever imagine, in her wildest dreams, that stubborn northern self-called King would come to own her heart and soul? To be a dragon such as herself, heal her bruised hopes of love and happiness, her bruised heart?

I can’t stay here, I can’t leave him.

She saw her eyes mirrowed in her brothers when she looked up, and she knew he knew her answer.

“I was wrong, dear sister. About so many things. But yours is the song of ice and fire, and the dawn awaits you.” He kissed her hands, and before she could blink or even breathe, it was all darkness.

Dany, please, don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you.

Daenerys.

I need you.

Jon was crying, holding her in his arms. Somewhere she could hear Drogon and Rhaegal screech.

Jon is praying for you, and my son haven’t prayed in a very long time.

She could remember the words, but the face was fading, like a distant dream.

You do not have to pray anymore, my love. I can look back now, I am not lost, I am found. I will never leave you, as long as I have a choice.

Then, she opened her eyes.

So…?  This is kind of a series, I posted this at AO3 too…Another one coming up, soon. <3 

#jonerys #fanfic #jonerys fanfic #jonerys fic #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #game of thrones #got #snowstorm #jon x dany #jon x daenerys #got fic #rhaegar targaryen #house targaryen #it was only just a dream? #was it?

[lovecomesinattheeyes]

Jealousy

Chapter 4 Update: Available on ao3 Eventually the King and Queen must leave their bed...

Start on Chapter 1 here

Thank you for all the comments, reblogs and love! This one is less steamy, but still satisfying I felt.

A light knock at the entrance to their bedchamber rouses Daenerys. She looks up to see Missandei peeking through the door.

“Apologies, Your Grace,” She whispers. Her children’s giggling greets the Queen’s ears and she sits up, “The children are asking for you.” Daenerys pulls the furs up with her before looking down at the still sleeping form of her husband, his face is so peaceful that she dare not wake him.

Dany holds up a finger to her lips and nods. Her friend bows and closes the door quietly. The Queen slips from the warmth of her bed, crossing to her bureau. She pours some water into the basin and wets a rag to wash the residue of sweat from her body. A small smile meets her lips as she recalls the ravenous way her husband made love to her the night prior.

She softly wipes the mixed fluids of their attempt to make another child from her thighs before she places the rag with the other dirty clothing for her handmaidens to dispose of. She straightens and looks down, placing a hand on her belly, silently sending a prayer to the Gods to give her and Jon another morning giggle.

As she opens her eyes she feels a strong pair of hands wrap around her waist and his mouth bites her earlobe.

“Who says we’re done?” He murmurs huskily against her neck.

“You, dear husband,” She whispers as she turns her head to look at him. “Are an animal.”

“Aye,” He slips his hand to the folds of her sex and rubs small circles. “But you married me anyway.”

She giggles and places her hands over his, halting the attempts to get her to fall back into bed with him.

“You are not the only one who requires my attention.” She turns in his arms and runs her hands along his cheek. “A Queen has many admirers.”

Jon growls at the thought of their previous night’s cause for passion and dedication. His hands greedily pull her soft bottom to squeeze her against his growing desire. “I suggest you not bring that up any further.”

Daenerys tenderly reaches back to pull his hands from her body. “I was referring to our children.”

Jon rests his forehead against hers, a sigh of exasperation and acceptance as he lets his arduous affections for his wife cool. “I suppose I will allow them to steal you… for now,” His voice drops and he kisses her, an unsaid promise on his lips.

She shakes her head and steps away from her husband before yanking open a drawer in her bureau and pulling out a silver and blue silken night dress. Jon grabs a fresh rag and begins to wash himself as well, hardly taking his eyes from his Queen.

“I was considering returning to Winterfell for a quick diplomatic visit.” He says as he adjusts the cloth pants to rest low on his waist again.

“Is everything alright?” Dany asks looking at Jon in the reflection of her mirror as she reaches for her brush.

“Aye,” Jon answers as he comes to stand behind her. He wraps his hand around the one she’s gripping the brush with, a silent request that she acquiesces to.

Jon had first started brushing his wife’s hair after the birth of Visenya. It was a hard birth as the obstinate child refused to turn during labor, deciding to come feet first instead of head first. Daenerys labored for nearly a day and a half, hair matted to her face. Jon refused to leave her side for any of their children’s births, but especially Visenya’s. He kept wet rags pressed to Dany’s forehead and neck. 

At one point she was sitting in a cool bath, trying to relax. Jon had seen her fighting with her silver-gold mane and decided to pick up her brush and a couple of pins. He slid into the tub behind her and began brushing her hair, attempting to tame the wild locks. He managed to make a terrible albeit functional enough braid. He doesn’t brush her hair often and she refuses to let him braid it anymore, but every once in a while, a wave of nostalgia, or boredom will wash over him and he will do as he is doing now. Slowly pulling the brush through his wife’s hair as she watches him in the mirror.

“Sansa is having some trouble with the Wildlings. Nothing worrisome, just the stubbornness of freefolk.”

“Did she ask for your presence?” Daenerys queries as she quickly forms two identical braids on either side of her face.

Jon sighs as he sets the brush down. “No, but she wouldn’t have written to me if she didn’t want my counsel. Besides, she’s heavy with child and her husband is away.”

Dany nods as she pins the braids up to the back of her head.

“Alright then. You’ll take Rhaegal and be back in time for the tourney next week.” Daenerys stands and places her hands on her husband’s chest. “It bolsters support and loyalty when Lords fight in front of their King.”

Jon didn’t like tournaments, but he understood why others did. He sighs and nods in agreeance. Just then there’s small hurried knocks on the door and they both turn to beam. Jon walks to the door, flinging it open wide before scooping one little girl in either arm and lifting them each easily. They squeal in delight, kicking and flailing as he begins peppering their faces in kisses. “What are my darling little dragon princesses doing waking their parents so early?” He asks them as their giggling dies down.

Daenerys’ heart melts whenever she watches Jon with their children. To imagine she’d thought this might never have been possible because of her misplaced trust in a scorned witch’s words makes her realize how naive she had been. Daenerys knows that no matter what enemies they face or what monsters there are in the dark places of this world, her and Jon would fight to the death to make it safer for their precious children.

“We missed you papa,” Visenya says as she plays with his face.

“And mama!” Lyanna adds quickly as she bends around their father's shoulder, pointing her small arm at Dany. Jon turns and walks toward Daenerys as they both reach for their mother. Their little hands wrap around her neck to hug her, Lyanna wiggles from her father’s grasp and into her mother’s arms.

“You missed us?” She coos as Lyanna rests her white blonde head on Dany’s shoulder. “But we were here the entire night.”

“But you weren’t with us!” Visenya argues, her face morphs into Jon’s thoughtful brood, her hair the only color difference from her father’s.

“That is true…” Jon sighs as he turns to head back into the main room, Dany following close behind.

Daemon is sitting at their table, a large book propped open on his lap, a plate of food sitting before him. “Good morning mother, good morning father.” He says, not looking up, his dark curls hanging in front of his eyes as they walk into the room.

“What have I told you about reading at the table?” Jon eyes his son intensely.

“That I’m only allowed to if it’s a good book.” Daemon answers looking up at the King.

“And what book is filling your mind this morning?” Jon pushes as he sets five year old Visenya down in a chair before seating himself next to her.

“A history of dragons and their riders. Maester Tarly gave it to me for my name day.” Daemon answers.

“Oh, well in that case, skip to the end and read it aloud.” Jon smirks up at Daenerys, she narrows her eyes as she sets their four year old in her chair.

Daemon smiles and does as his father requests. Daenerys and Jon begin serving plates of food to their daughters as they listen to their son read aloud. “For many centuries, dragons were considered extinct. The few remaining eggs thought to be inert and although more valuable than any jewel, ultimately useless. Until Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen-”

A gasp from Visenya interrupts her brothers recitation as she looks up to her mother, eyes wide. “That’s you mama!” She says with wonder as her eyes dart from Dany’s to Daemon’s and then back.

“it is!” Dany feigns shock. “Shall we see what it says?” Visenya nods eagerly and stares back at her brother with renewed interest.

Daemon returns his eyes to his book and begins to read aloud once more. “Until Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen managed to birth three dragons out of the funeral pyre of her dead Dothraki husband, making her the Mother of Dragons as well as The Unburnt.” Daemon’s eyes furrow and he looks up at his parents. “You had a husband before father?” He asks thoughtfully.

Dany nods as she chews a piece of honeyed ham. “He was an undefeated Khal with one of the largest Khalasar’s in the Great Grass Sea. I was sold in marriage to him for the promise of an army.” She answers her son truthfully.

“And he died?” Daemon asks, “How?”

“A wound on his chest festered and I being only a young girl and not understanding the consequences of my actions, asked a witch to perform blood magic to save him. It did not work and he died anyway.” She looks at Jon, who knows the unsaid details and he reaches his hand for hers, knowing that although time has healed the pain, the scar of Drogo and Rhaego still aches. “I had a death pyre built for him and I placed the dragon eggs on the pyre. ‘Only death can pay for life’ the witch had told me. So I walked into the flames and carried my dragons from the ashes.”

Daemon’s eyes flit to Jon’s chest and then back to his book before meeting his mother’s gaze. “What brought back father?” Daemon’s curiosity burrows into Dany and she looks up at Jon, not knowing how to respond.

“Love did.“ Jon whispers as he softly squeezes Daenerys’ hand. A tender gaze passes between them before it is broken by their son.

“Ick.“ Daemon shudders and his parents both laugh softly, causing the small girls to giggle along playfully, not fully understanding what it is that is funny.

“I’d like to hear more from this book.” Jon says as he releases Dany’s hand and takes a drink from his goblet. He nods to Daemon to begin again. The Prince casts his eyes back down to the pages and begins reading again.

“Daenerys Stormborn birthed three dragons that day. The first and largest of the three was named for her dead husband Drogon. The second and fastest was named for her eldest brother Rhaegal. The third and smallest of the three was named for her youngest brother Viserion.“ Daemon furrows his brow looking so much like Jon that Dany would have laughed if she hadn’t just been reminded of a sadness that she kept locked away.

“The early years of the Exiled Queen can be tracked by the presence of these dragons. When they were small, people would look upon them and smile, or covet the small beasts. They were loyal only to their mother though and would snap at anyone who dared try and touch them without her approval.”

Jon laughs out loud, interrupting the reading. “They still do that! I swear if your mother is ever cross with me, I refuse to get near Drogon! Even Rhaegal can be touchy if she is upset!”

"They would never kill you," Daenerys rebuts sarcastically. Missandei enters the room again, a servant with a tray of hot tea trails in behind her, crossing to place it in front of the Queen. "Is that my normal tea?" Daenerys asks Missandei who nods. "Oh, could I request a lemon tea instead? I won't be requiring this tea for a while."

Missandei's knowing smirk is glimpsed only by Dany who smiles a secret way that only her friend could understand. "As your Grace commands." Missandei bows and leads the other woman away with the tray of moon tea.

“Continue darling,” Daenerys turns back to Daemon and nods at him. He looks up at his mother and returns to his book.

“The Mother of Dragons led her people and her children to the city of Qarth. There is much mystery of her time there. She was made an offer of marriage by Xaro Xhoan Daxos, a rich noble man and one of the Thirteen Rulers of the merchant city. She refused him and after finding out that he was plotting against her, Xaro was never heard from again.” Daemon looks up at her. “Did you kill him?”

Dany looks down to her two daughters, pondering if perhaps it may be best for them not to hear it. But then again, they have to know what must be done. “I did.” She nods.

“How?” Daemon’s eyes light up.

She sighs and sets her fork down on her plate before Jon interjects, “Someday soon Daemon, your mother and I will sit you down and tell you our stories, from our births to yours. But until then, this is not a topic for discussion in front of your little sisters.”

“But papa!” Visenya argues, “I want to know too!”

“Me too! Me too!” Lyanna whines.

“And you will,” Daenerys answers. “But not until you are older as well.”

“Alright,” Daemon huffs as he turns the page in his book and continues readiing. “The Dragon Queen left Quarth on a ship bound for the slave city of Astapor. Her three dragon children had grown to be the size of dogs and were still unable to truly defend themselves or their mother. While in Astapor, Daenerys encountered the Unsullied, an army of slave boys made eunuch soldiers.”

“What’s a eunuch?” Lyanna asks quietly as she picks at a piece of sweet bread on her plate. Dany coughs trying to clear her throat before looking to Jon.

“Hmm, uh, well sweetie...” Jon looks back at Daenerys, not knowing how to explain it to a four year old.

“They are men that cannot have children.” Missandei interjects from near the door. Jon turns to look at Missandei as Dany relaxes in her seat. Her friend has always been good with words and her children. That is why she has become their tudor.

“Why can’t they?” Lyanna prods.

“Because other men made it so they could not.” Missandei answers as she stands behind Visenya, looking across the table to the curious princess.

“Why would they do that? Lyanna continues her line of questions.

“Because men can be cruel, and that is why your mother and father work to make sure the cruel men do not take power again. They make sure the cruel men are punished.”

Lyanna looks up at her parents with a soft smile and back to Missandei. “Thank you Miss.” 

“You’re welcome Lyanna.” Missandei steps back once more and nods at Daemon to continue.

“Daenerys Stormborn made a deal to trade her largest dragon for the entire Unsullied Army. Upon completion of the transaction, Drogon burned Kraznys mo Nakloz, the Leader of the Unsullied, alive while The Queen set the Army on the Masters and had them strike the chains from every slave. After the city was sacked, she offered the Unsullied their freedom, every soldier refused, choosing to follow the Breaker of Chains.” Daemon pauses and looks once more at his mother.

“Why did you betray your word to Kraznys?” He asks.

Daenerys ponders for a moment. “He was a cruel man who did unspeakable things to little boys in order to make them into hard men. He thought he could turn a dragon into a slave.”

“Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor.” Daemon responds, nodding his head in understanding before studying the tome in his lap once more. “As she left the city of Astapor, The Exiled Queen moved onto Yunkhai. She offered the Masters of Yunkhai a deal, which they refused. They threatened her with use of a sellsword company named The Second Sons. The Targaryen Queen met with the mercenary group and offered them a deal, all except one refused her, Daario Naharis.” Jon and Dany both tense at the mention of the man. “He’s the one who gifted me the sword last night!” Daemon connects the name quickly. 

“Aye,” Jon answers as he takes a large bite of roasted potato so as to attempt to prevent himself from speaking further. He needs not wait long as his son continues back into the history quickly.

“With the offered support from Daario and The Second Sons, Queen Daenerys sent a small party to infiltrate the city at night. There were very few of the Queen’s forces that were lost and the city was turned over to her, whereupon she continued to offer freedom to the slaves, most choosing to follow her.”

“Wow mama,” Visenya looks up from her plate. “You saved a lot of people.”

Dany eyes the beautiful face of her child and smiles sadly. “I tried.”

“Upon reaching Meereen, Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion had grown to the size of small horses and had begun to become more unruly and wild. At the Gates of Meereen, the Queen was asked to choose a champion to fight for the right to an audience with the Slave Masters. The new ally Daario Naharis stepped up and fought a rider, dispatching him quickly. The Mother of Dragons flung the broken manacles of the slaves she had freed over the walls of the last remaining slave city, announcing to the chained citizens that she was here to save them. The revolt that resulted was quick and the gates opened to her. She punished the masters and took the city for her own.”

“Miss?” Daemon looks up at Missandei curiously. “Did you witness all of this?”

“I did Prince Daemon.” Missandei nods.

“Did it happen exactly as it says here?”

“It did,” She nods again. “There are some details the book missed, I will discuss them with you further in your studies if you are interested.”

Daemon looks back to the Queen. “No, it’s alright. Mother and Father will tell me when they think I am ready, won’t you?”

Jon looks his son in the eye. “You will know what war truly means when the time comes for your mother and I tell you our story.” Jon’s honest face does not break from his son’s until Daemon nods in understanding. “Now continue, I believe I finally show up in this book soon.” He smirks cheekily at Daenerys and takes another bite of food.

“In taking Meereen, the Targaryen Queen angered a group of rebels called ‘The Harpies’. As the Harpies made it difficult to rule, leading raids on soldiers and killing freed slaves, the dragon children had become unpredictable. Their hunger driving them to scorch flocks of sheep along with their herders. As a result the Queen attempted to chain her children in the Great Pyramid and keep them and the city safe. Drogon escaped and was not seen again for some time. It was during her reign over Meereen that Tyrion of House Lannister showed up, offering an alliance with the New Queen, she accepted. However the Queen’s loyalty rested with the people she saved. She attempted to make a marital alliance with one of the great slave Masters of Meereen, Hizdar zo Loraq, only to have a rebel Harpy attack occur at the reopening of the fighting pits. Hizdar was killed It was then that Drogon reappeared, The Dragon Queen became the first Dragon Rider in over a century as  Drogon whisked the Queen away from the dangerous city.”

“Good Drogon,” Lyanna whispers more to herself than aloud, but it’s enough to make everyone in the room chuckle.

“The Queen’s loyal men Jorah Mormont and Daario Naharis set off in search of any sign for their Lost Queen or Drogon. It was discovered that the Queen had been taken captive by a Great Khalasar and was brought to the city of Vaes Dothrak. There The Queen was set before the Council of Khals and told she would spend the rest of her days with the other widows in the Temple of Dosh Khaleen. She refused, instead burning the Temple to the ground along with the Khals. Walking out of the flames, she rallied the rest of the Dothraki to her and began her march back to Meereen. Upon reaching the city, she found it was under siege, the other masters of Yunkhai and Astapor rising up to defy her and attempting to take the city with their fleet of ships. The Young Queen’s dragons, now able to be ridden and large enough to be used as weapons, proved that The Queen was able to defend her city with them, burning a ship in mere moments as an example of their power. She took the fleet and used it to ferry her forces back to Westeros.”

“That’s where you met papa right?!” Visenya asks. Her affection for her father is unmatched, except perhaps by The Queen.

“That is where your father and I met, yes.” Dany answers her.

“Shhh,” Lyanna puts her finger over her mouth and furrows her brow at Lyanna. “Let Daemon finish Vissy.”

Daemon continues. “Her dragons continued to grow until they were larger than ten horses, Drogon being the most fierce-some came to be called “Dreaded Shadow”. Queen Daenerys prefered to ride Drogon and led him into a skirmish with Lannister forces that were retreating from High Garden. When the King in The North, Jon Snow-” 

“PAPA!” Visenya shouts at the top of her lungs causing Jon to lean over and kiss her on the forehead, shushing her outburst.

Daemon eyes his sister seriously before picking back up where he left off. “When the King in the North, Jon Snow presented himself to the Queen he pleaded with her to turn her armies north and to march against the Night King and his Army of the Dead. The Targaryen Queen refused at first, until King Jon went north of the wall to capture one of The Others, in order to prove to her and to Cersei Lannister that what he was claiming was true. When the White Wolf and his few remaining allies were surrounded, Queen Daenerys flew her dragons north, using them to extract the King and his men. In the process Viserion was pierced by an ice lance and was struck from the sky.”

A sadness washes through Daenerys. She had been trying to steel herself for it, but it did not matter, Viserion’s death was a struggle for her to cope with even now. A tear slips from her eye and Daemon stops, looking up at his mother. Jon reaches for Daenerys’ hand, squeezing lightly. He had apologized profusely and while Viserion’s death did not end up being in vain, he knew that was her biggest sorrow. Lyanna, understanding her mother was sad, climbs into her lap, wrapping her arms around her mother’s shoulders and burying her face in Dany’s neck. A sad smile crosses the Queen’s face and she hugs her youngest daughter closest to her for a moment.

“You saved Papa...” Lyanna’s realization breaks the silence.

“She did.” Jon answers. “She risked her dragons to save a Northern Fool.”

“I risked my dragons to save the man I love.” Daenerys corrects him as she disentangles Lyanna’s arms and sets her on her lap facing the table. Jon pushes himself up and over the table, kissing her chastely on the lips once before sitting back down.

“Aye,” He answers, “It may have been the first time, but it wasn’t the last.”

“Can I continue?” Daemon huffs at his parents affection.

“Yes, you may continue.” Jon looks at his son with a fond annoyance.

“Thank you,” Daemon looks back down. “Before the Battle for the Dawn took place, The Dragon Queen and the King in The North proceeded to solidify their alliance with marriage. It was shortly after that Rhaegal, the Verdant Flame, accepted King Jon as his rider. Together the King and Queen rode their dragons against the Night King, who had turned the body of Viserion into an undead mount of his own. The Dragons fought in the air, the King managed to blind the undead monstrosity with his sword Longclaw and Drogon landed a crippling blow to the reawakened corpse of his brother, preventing the great beast from flying and sending the Night King to the ground. As the blue-eyed dragon cried out in agony, Queen Daenerys landed Drogon on top of him, pinning Viserion to the ground. Rhaegal and his Rider fought off the undead that attempted to surround the three. The Mother of Dragons approached her child, his brother’s jaws clamped onto his throat. She pulled a dragonglass dagger and thrust it through the skull of the great beast that had once been hers, releasing him from his servitude to the Night King.”

Daenerys’ face is filled with a boiling rage. Her eyes alight at the memory of the Night King and the way he had used the animated corpse of her son to kill her soldiers. She knew that Viserion was not in there, that she had left him at the bottom of the frozen lake in the North. The Night King had raised Viserion’s body, used it to destroy the wall and tried to use it to destroy her as well. 

“Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor.” Jon echoes her thoughts as he looks upon her. A long silence takes the room, the children looking upon their parents in awe as the Monarchs let their anger fizzle out. They had won. They had vanquished the Night King. It was at a great cost, but they had done it.

Daemon closes the book and lets it drop loudly on the table, causing the plates and silverware to clatter against one another. It breaks the tense silence and startles the two girls.

“Can we go down to see Drogon and Rhaegal today?” Daemon asks as he begins eating his meal.

Daenerys nods. “Aye” Jon answers. “I leave for a short trip to Winterfell today, I planned on taking Rhaegal. You may accompany your mother to see me off.”

Daemon smiles around a mouthful of food as the family gets back to finishing their morning meal.

#jonerys #jonerys fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #my fic #jon x daenerys #jon x dany #jonerys smut fest

[makerkenzie]

Why do so many prominent ASOIAF commentators think Jaime committed a great sin in not running around telling everyone of Aerys' wildfire plot? I see it all the time. He was a traumatised teenage hostage- surely it's equally on the likes of Barristan (especially him) and Jon and Robert that nobody thought to take this kid aside and ask 'hey, so why exactly did you break this most sacred vow?' I think in that light Jaime's totally justified in feeling that no one would believe him.

Why, yes, Anon, I agree that Jaime was absolutely justified in feeling that no one would believe him.

To take Jaime’s transition-era mindset even deeper, I think he was concerned that the wildfire caches would be used for destructive ends if they were made public knowledge. This kid’s father is the guy who literally annihilated two entire noble families in response to their defiance of House Lannister. It’s not just a question of what Tywin would have done; this is Jaime’s primary model of a powerful man. He probably thought it was to be expected that a new king, with access to tons of explosives, would use those explosives to do something terrifying. Blow up Dragonstone to get rid of the last Targaryens, for example? Jaime didn’t want that to happen. I think he killed the pyromancers associated with the wildfire plot because he needed to restrict the knowledge of the wildfire caches to someone who could be trusted to use that knowledge appropriately. In order to divulge the wildfire plot, Jaime needed someone who a) was in a position of sufficient power to either ensure the wildfire was properly disposed of or keep it in the dark, b) would listen to him and believe him long enough to investigate and see the wildfire caches up close, and c) would want to find the wildfire, but not use it. (Sort of like Harry Potter with the Sorceror’s Stone: find it, but not use it.) 

I have a little headcanon that Jaime was really looking forward to telling Ned all about why he killed the king, and he thought Ned would be just the right guy to either keep the wildfire caches secret or persuade Robert to get rid of it all without blowing anything up. But then Jaime saw how Ned responded to seeing him perched on the throne, and, well, that idea was a non-starter. Jon Arryn might have been a good candidate if he’d ever asked Jaime for his side of the story, but he didn’t. 

As to why so many of the Smart People of ASOIAF act like Jaime kept quiet because he’s just the type of asshole who likes being treated like a bad guy? Ehhhh...what I see is a tendency to impose 33-year-old Jaime’s “I seldom fling children from towers to improve their health” attitude on 17-year-old Jaime’s actions. Which doesn’t add up, but why does this idea have traction? When we accept that he was unfairly vilified as a kid, then we start to see his antisocial behavior in adulthood in terms of his response to trauma. It could be argued that his response to trauma doesn’t justify impregnating his sister, and he could have and should have dealt with his injuries differently, but what I see happening is a refusal to consider that his injuries were not self-inflicted. It’s an insistence that his shit-for-honor reputation is yet another offense that Jaime perpetrated on the realm, rather than something that was done to him. So how did this view of Jaime gain traction? 

Well...I think it’s a general discomfort with seeing the guy who attempted murder on Stark kids in terms of victimization. Additionally, I see a lot of discussion of Jaime presupposing access to power that he didn’t (and still doesn’t) have. I think it’s tempting to see him as having always been that guy who seldom flings children from towers to improve their health, because when we see someone doing terrible things, we want to get angry at him. We don’t want to hear about how low he ranks in the power structure, and what kind of consequences he’d face for insubordination. We don’t want to think his ripe jackass behavior in adulthood is informed by war-crimes-level trauma compounded by unfair vilification before his brain was fully developed. Basically, I think the issue is that we don’t like to think of how big the problem really is; if it’s simply a matter of Jaime being awful because that’s how an antisocial narcissist keeps himself entertained, then the problem is right where we can see it, and it’s not too big to contain and dismantle.