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sailorshadzter · 8 months

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roses from the bastard born king in the north

@snowstoneweek

She doesn’t dare believe that she’s here.

It’s only been in her dreams that she returns to Winterfell, to her home, and yet… Here she was in the courtyard, sliding down from her gray mare, swallowing against the rising tide of emotions within her. Everything was as she remembers it to be and it fills her with such warmth, such comfort, that she thinks for a moment she might fall to her knees in relief. Prayers she once believed could never be answered, have been, and she finds herself longing to see the godswood, to perhaps say a prayer of thanks to the gods for finally listening to her pleas.

“Daughter…” The voice prompts her back into the present and she turns to face the man that now stands at her elbow, reminding her that even if she was home, she must pretend it never belonged to her at all. “Are you ready?” Lord Baelish asks with that sick, sinister smile of his and she lets out a long, deep breath with a single nod. “Come then…” He offers her his arm, which she takes, and allows him to steer her away from their horses and up the steps that would lead them inside and out of the cold.

“Welcome to Winterfell, my lord, my lady,” a man she doesn’t know greets at the door, his accent one she cannot place, but with a warmth to his face that brings her some comfort. “The King has been awaiting your arrival,” he continues on, gesturing back towards the double doors that would lead into the great hall, where night after night she had dined with her family as a child. Those days felt like a lifetime ago, in truth, days so far away it was almost as if they had never even happened. “I am Davos Seaworth, Hand to the King.” The older man continues on and now she knows who he is, for Lord Baelish has explained him to her in the days leading up to their journey North. “Come…” He turns and they follow after him, down the short distance to the doors and through them into the hall.

Her heart skips a beat at the sight before her- there, sitting behind the head table, is her family. Well, two of them, at least. Little Rickon sits at Jon’s elbow, his once unruly curls now secured in a fashion similar to the brother he sits before. She’s plunged into a memory then, of little hands tugging on her skirts, of a baby brother she had loved unlike all of the others. A baby brother she loved as if he were her very own. The memory fades and she is careful to keep her face impassive as she and Baelish approach the table, sweeping this King in the North a curtsy she hopes he does not recall from childhood.

From where he sits, Jon watches as the pair enters and approaches him there at the table. Lord Baelish is an ugly man, he notes, with dark, wild eyes that gives him the impression that he is up to something more than he lets on. But the young woman at his side…? Jon is awestruck by her beauty, with dark hair so long it sweeps across her lower back as she moves, her blue eyes looking up at him from beneath her lashes as she sinks into a curtsy far better than even the most noble of women he’s met. “Your grace,” Lord Baelish speaks, drawing Jon’s attention back to him, though he could easily stare at the young woman for far longer. “Thank you for receiving us, we are grateful for your hospitality.” He continues on with a smile that speaks the same as his gaze; Jon will remember well not to trust this man. It was strange enough, he supposes, that of all people Lord Baelish would wish to meet him- he had pegged him as a Lannister man, after all. “To have a Stark back in Winterfell is a welcome sight indeed.” His eyes glance at the little boy seated to his side, noticing that the child is staring not at him, but at the girl beside him. Baelish had counted on the boy being too young to remember his sister, but perhaps he had been foolish to think so. “This is my daughter, Alayne,” he pushes onward, gesturing towards her, urging her forward another step or so. “We are eager to pledge ourselves to you, my king.” There is that sickly smile once more, sending chills down his spine.

Jon’s gaze shifts back to the young woman, wondering why now he’s struck by the notion he knows her from somewhere. It’s like a long lost memory, something he’s forgotten, coming back in pieces to him. The way her lips curve when she offers a smile… The soft sound of her voice when she finally speaks… Your grace… It has never sounded sweeter. “It is a pleasure to meet you both,” Jon says, turning back to Baelish. “I was surprised to receive your letter as I thought you were in King’s Landing,” he speaks plainly, without hesitation. “But, if you are here to support the North, then I welcome you to Winterfell.”

“I was in King’s Landing for a time, but considering the circumstances there…” They both know what he speaks of- the death of Joffrey and the crowning of his kid brother, a boy who would be little more than a puppet king for the Lannisters. “I decided it best for me to return home to my daughter and the Vale. My ward, Robin Arryn you know is but a boy himself, I must see to his bringing up.”

“Aye, I recall hearing of his mother’s sudden death,” Jon points out and Baelish looks down, as if overcome with grief at the mention of Lysa Arryn. “She was my siblings' aunt, so we mourned her well here in Winterfell.” Beside her father, Alayne stirs, as if struck by what he’s just said, but quickly as it comes her face becomes solemn once more and Jon must wonder if he’s only just imagined it. “You must be tired from your journey North, let me have you shown to your chambers.” Jon goes on, to which Baelish gives a nod and another bow, ever the courtier.

When they have gone, Jon turns to his little brother at his side, a boy of just eleven now, with eyes that remind him of Sansa and hair that reminds him of Robb. “What is it, Rickon?” Jon asks, noting his brother’s silence and frowning lips. He thinks that perhaps even this child has seen through Lord Baelish’s charms and has an unsettling feeling in him that he doesn’t quite understand.

“It’s just…” Rickon begins, but trails off with a shake of his head. Only when Jon encourages him further does the boy speak. “I thought I might know her, Lady Alayne I mean.” Jon blinks, startled by these words, for had he not thought the very same thing? “I cannot place her, but she is familiar to me, like a long lost dream I once had.” The boy turns those blue eyes upon him and Jon pats his head, offering him no solution, for those thoughts were one and the same with his own.

But, Jon knows one thing was for certain- he wanted to speak with her alone.

[ x x x ]

As the sun rises above the horizon, casting daylight across the snowy landscape, she’s already in the godswood.

It is surreal to be beneath the canopy of weirwood trees once more and she feels the sting of tears in her eyes as she sinks down beneath the heart tree. How often had she found her father in this very place, his dark eyes closed, his lips pursed in thought? She and her siblings had played among these trees, had run and laughed and spun with excitement as only children could do. After all her time in King’s Landing, she had quite forgotten what it felt like to feel at home and the rush of this emotion has her wiping tears from her cheeks before long.

If only the rest of her family could be here… If only the family that was there could know who she really was. That thought alone was enough to diminish the warm feeling in her chest and she sighs, wishing with all of her heart that things could be different. To embrace Rickon… Jon… It would give meaning back into her life. Even if it were just once… It would be enough to get her through the rest of her life without them.

Across the way, Jon watches her, having come down for his usual moment of silence before the day begins. Like her, he thinks of Ned Stark when he’s here, he thinks of a past he misses dearly, of family he’s lost to death and time. His breath escapes in a cloud of white- it was exceptionally cold this morning, but she seems to be right at home there in the snow, her wool skirts gathered around her where she sits, nothing but a simple cloak draped over her shoulders. He decides he cannot stand there staring any longer, so he approaches, the snow crunching beneath his boots signaling to her his arrival. She looks up and for a moment, he thinks she means to jump up, but he shakes his head. “Stay as you are,” he says with a grin, gesturing towards the open place beside her. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but if I may…” She blushes crimson but gives a single nod, scooting over just a bit, giving them an appropriate space between them as he sits down beside her. “How are you enjoying your time in Winterfell so far, my lady?” Jon asks, shifting so he can face her, only to find she’s already looking his way. “You seem unbothered by the cold.”

A laugh escapes her before she can stop it and when she speaks, she’s still smiling. “It is true, I don’t mind the cold at all,” she replies, folding her hands in her lap as she tilts her head, dark hair tumbling over her shoulder. “It does snow in the Vale, though it isn’t nearly as cold.” She knows she shouldn’t be here, talking with Jon like this, but now that he was there before her, she couldn’t walk away. “It is beautiful here, your grace,” she goes on, thinking of what Alayne would truly say in this moment. “I am eager to see more, my father told me of the famed blue roses your gardens grow. I would like to see them.”

Jon chuckles, knowing well of the roses of which she speaks, winter roses that only grew in the coldest freezes. In truth, the gardens were full of them even now, at the very start of the cold season. “See them you shall do then, my lady,” he says and she’s smiling again, a smile that reminds him of the glow of the moon.

“You know, you needn’t call me lady, your grace,” the word is like a knife to her heart, thinking of her beloved wolf, dead all these years now. “I am but bastard born.”

“Aye and so am I,” he replies with a shrug, as if it means little to him. “Yet you and all the others still call me king.” Her blue eyes widen with surprise and then her features soften, her lips parting as if she means to say something more. But from somewhere in the distance, they both hear the morning call finally ring out.

“I should go,” she says, suddenly jumping to her feet, as if she’s been spooked by the sound.

Jon follows after, catching her by the hand before she can turn to go. “Alayne,” he calls her by just her given name, surprising her once more, as he draws her hand to his lips for the softest of kisses, as if she were the queen and he the subject. As her hand slips away, the warmth of his lips remains, even long after they’ve parted ways.

[ x x x ]

When supper comes and she steps into the great hall with Baelish at her side, she’s greeted by the dozens of lords and ladies that have come to dine with their King in the North. She’s once more reminded of childhood, of days when her parents would host dinners for the lords, for even the King himself; nights of laughter and warmth, of ale and good food, of music and perhaps even dancing.

At the head table Jon sits once more, wearing black as he always had done, curls slicked back with a coronet of black resting on his brow. Beside him, Rickon is handsome in blue wool, his hair style once again matching his elder brother’s. She smiles at the sight of it, wondering if Robb was still alive, would Rickon wear his curls loose as he had once done? “Your grace,” Baelish greets the king and his brother as they come to stand before the table. “It is as if Ned Stark sits before me once again.” Most Northerners did not trust this man, Jon has come to find out, and certainly his father would have been among them.

However, Jon smiles for the compliment, but merely nods in response. “Before you take your seats,” Jon holds up a hand and the man in Stark colors that stands at the back door, one which she knows leads to another corridor, pushes it open so someone can come through. “For you, my lady,” he says as a maid comes forward, holding in her hand a wreath of beautiful blue roses. He rises up to his feet, taking the roses into his own hands, leaning over the table so he can crown her head with them himself. She’s blushing crimson as her hands come up to gingerly touch the silky soft petals, the weight of the crown she now wears somehow comforting. Jon offers her a smile and she remembers herself, sweeping him a curtsy before she allows Baelish to lead her towards the table where they would sit.

And that night, even when she returned to her rooms, she would still have that crown of blue roses perched upon her head.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jonsaweek2023 #jonsa week #snowstoneweek #my writing #i wrote this #repeat after me: you will not turn this into another multi chapter fic

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ceoofhelaegon · 1 year

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Idc how popular/unpopular this opinion is but Helaegon in the show deserves to be portrayed as a complex relationship and not as Aegon/Naerys 2.0 that this fandom desperately want.

Not to be offensive to anyone but saying that A*mond/Helaena are the original Naerys and Aemon is a braindead take

Received similar asks and I thought it was better to reply to both at the same time…so here we go:

Aegon IV:

Aenys was weak and Maegor was cruel and Aegon II was grasping, but no king before or after that would practice so much willful misrule.

—writings of Kaeth in Lives of Four Kings

'Fire and Blood' were the words of House Targaryen, but Dunk once heard Ser Arlan say that Aegon's should have been, 'Wash Her and Bring Her to My Bed'.

—thoughts of Duncan the Tall

Naerys: I have done my duty by you, and given you an heir. I beg you, let us live henceforth as brother and sister.

Aegon: That is what we are doing.

—Naerys and Aegon IV Targaryen

Nine mistresses:

Falena Stokeworth

Megette

Cassella Vaith

Bellegere Otherys

Barba Bracken

Melissa Blackwood

Bethany Bracken

Jeyne Lothston

Serenei of Lys

Other:

Daena Targaryen

Elaena Targaryen (rumored)

Daughters of Lord Butterwell (rumored)

Many others

Aegon II:

“When his grief had passed, King Aegon Il summoned his loyalists and made plans for his return to King's Landing, to reclaim the Iron Throne and be reunited once again with his lady mother, the Queen Dowager, who had at last emerged triumphant over her great rival, if only by outliving her. "Rhaenyra was never a queen," the king declared, insisting that henceforth, in all chronicles and court records, his half sister be referred to only as "princess," the title of queen being reserved only for his mother Alicent and his late wife and sister Helena, the "true queens." And so it was decreed.”

“Though Blood and Cheese spared her life, Queen Helaena cannot be said to have survived that fateful dusk. Afterward she would not eat, nor bathe, nor leave her chambers, and she could no longer stand to look upon her son Maelor, knowing that she had named him to die. The king had no recourse but to take the boy from her and give him over to their mother, the Dowager Queen Alicent, to raise as if he were her own. Aegon and his wife slept separately thereafter, and Queen Helaena sank deeper and deeper into madness, whilst the king raged, and drank, and raged."

I was going to put Aegon II’s lovers here but we don’t know them, he’s alleged to have 3 bastards, and none of them are confirmed.

Aemon:

Arianne: And the Dragonknight? The noblest knight who ever lived, you said, and he took his queen to bed and got her with child.

Arys: I will not believe that. The tale of Prince Aemon's treason with Queen Naerys was only that, a tale, a lie his brother told when he wished to set his trueborn son aside in favor of his bastard. Aegon was not called the Unworthy without cause.

—Arianne Martell and Arys Oakheart

Not every man has it in him to be Prince Aemon the Dragonknight or Symeon Star-Eyes...

—Wyman Manderly to Davos Seaworth

When he was born they named him for a hero who had died too young.

—Samwell Tarly recalling Aemon's namesake

Aemond:

Prince Aemond Targaryen, also known as Aemond One-Eye and Aemond the Kinslayer…

One-eyed Prince Aemond, nineteen, was found in the armory, donning plate and mail for his morning practice in the castle yard. "Is Aegon king?" he asked Ser Willis Fell, "or must we kneel and kiss the old whore's cunny?"

Helaena:

"Helaena was a pleasant, happy girl, and all agreed she would make a fine mother. And so she did, and quickly."

Naerys:

She almost died in the cradle and was sickly for most of her life, finding most physical activity to be very taxing. She ate but little and was painfully thin, almost emaciated.

She was also devout in her faith, and often found solace in the pages of The Seven-Pointed Star. She would have become a septa, had her father allowed it.

Aegon IV DESPISED Naerys, he disrespected her and by extent his own trueborn son because of that.

No matter what gaslighting the show tries to do, or other greenies that hate our Aegon…Aegon/Naerys/Aemon will NEVER be Aegon/Helaena/Aemond and in the words of Tywin Lannister:

Is not an opinion, it’s a fact!

#ask #anon #answered #aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #helaegon

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istumpysk · 1 year

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: Jon XIII (Chapter 69)

"Let them die," said Queen Selyse.

It was the answer that Jon Snow had expected. This queen never fails to disappoint. Somehow that did not soften the blow. "Your Grace," he persisted stubbornly, "they are starving at Hardhome by the thousands. Many are women—"

"—and children, yes. Very sad." The queen pulled her daughter closer to her and kissed her cheek. The cheek unmarred by greyscale, Jon did not fail to note. "We are sorry for the little ones, of course, but we must be sensible. We have no food for them, and they are too young to help the king my husband in his wars. Better that they be reborn into the light."

Discussion about dying children being reborn into the light interrupted by Shireen kisses.

+.+.+

Melisandre of Asshai stood closer to the fire, the ruby at her throat pulsing with every breath she took. The red woman too had her attendants—the squire Devan Seaworth and two of the guardsmen the king had left her.

I continue to find it extremely suspect that so much attention is being paid to Devan's proximity to Melisandre, while the author also constantly underscores how vulnerable she is.

Remember, it's Devan who is close to Shireen, not Davos. It's Devan who was saved from certain death. Why? Where are we going with that?

+.+.+

Up spoke Ser Malegorn. "Lord Snow, who will lead this ranging?"

"Are you offering yourself, ser?"

"Do I look so foolish?"

Patchface jumped up. "I will lead it!" His bells rang merrily. "We will march into the sea and out again. Under the waves we will ride seahorses, and mermaids will blow seashells to announce our coming, oh, oh, oh."

We will march into the sea and out again.

Death, and restoration to life. I think?

Under the waves we will ride seahorses, and mermaids will blow seashells to announce our coming, oh, oh, oh.

Remember the Merling King?

The Braavosi trading galley hired by Petyr Baelish, that carries him and Sansa to the Vale?

The eastern sky was vague with the first hint of dawn when Sansa finally saw a ghostly shape in the darkness ahead; a trading galley, her sails furled, moving slowly on a single bank of oars. As they drew closer, she saw the ship's figurehead, a merman with a golden crown blowing on a great seashell horn. - Sansa V, ASOS

If it is the Merling King, that would not be the first time Sansa got the mermaid treatment.

Patchface rang his bells. "It is always summer under the sea," he intoned. "The merwives wear nennymoans in their hair and weave gowns of silver seaweed. I know, I know, oh, oh, oh." - Prologue, ACOK

+.+.+

Jon was less amused. "I will not ask my men to do what I would not do myself. I mean to lead the ranging."

This is honourable, but I'm going to say it's the wrong decision. You can't leave Castle Black days after thousands of wildlings crossed the Wall, and the tension is threatening to boil over.

+.+.+

"How bold of you," said the queen. "We approve. Afterward some bard will make a stirring song about you, no doubt, and we shall have a more prudent lord commander."

I went straight to asearchoficeandfire and investigated whether Jorah has ever been called prudent.

Nothing.

+.+.+

Ser Axell went through a door and returned a moment later with Gerrick Kingsblood. "Gerrick of House Redbeard," he announced, "King of the Wildlings."

Gerrick Kingsblood was a tall man, long of leg and broad of shoulder. The queen had dressed him in some of the king's old clothes, it appeared. Scrubbed and groomed, clad in green velvets and an ermine half-cape, with his long red hair freshly washed and his fiery beard shaped and trimmed, the wildling looked every inch a southron lord. He could walk into the throne room at King's Landing, and no one would blink an eye, Jon thought.

"Gerrick is the true and rightful king of the wildlings," the queen said, "descended in an unbroken male line from their great king Raymun Redbeard, whereas the usurper Mance Rayder was born of some common woman and fathered by one of your black brothers."

No, Jon might have said, Gerrick is descended from a younger brother of Raymun Redbeard. To the free folk that counted about as much as being descended from Raymun Redbeard's horse. They know nothing, Ygritte. And worse, they will not learn.

Hold up. Wait a second.

Did Val just lose her fancy title and crown? Is she no longer a princess?

Damn, Selyse stripped her of her entire identity.

+.+.+

"Gerrick has graciously agreed to give the hand of his eldest daughter to my beloved Axell, to be united by the Lord of Light in holy wedlock," Queen Selyse said. "His other girls shall wed at the same time—the second daughter with Ser Brus Buckler and the youngest with Ser Malegorn of Redpool."

"Sers." Jon inclined his head to the knights in question. "May you find happiness with your betrothed."

"Under the sea, men marry fishes." Patchface did a little dance step, jingling his bells. "They do, they do, they do."

+.+.+

Queen Selyse sniffed again. "Four marriages can be made as simply as three. It is past time that this woman Val was settled, Lord Snow. I have decided that she shall wed my good and leal knight, Ser Patrek of King's Mountain."

"Has Val been told, Your Grace?" asked Jon. "Amongst the free folk, when a man desires a woman, he steals her, and thus proves his strength, his cunning, and his courage. The suitor risks a savage beating if he is caught by the woman's kin, and worse than that if she herself finds him unworthy."

I so desperately want this to be about Petyr Bael-ish. Could be, when is anything about Val ever actually about Val?

Everyone thank Jon for putting a bad idea in Ser Patrek's head.

+.+.+

Jon wondered if the queen would be so eager to see Val married to one of her own knights if she knew Val's feelings about Princess Shireen.

Aww, is he saying that's disqualifying? Lol.

Big surprise Jon would never forget a conversation like that.

+.+.+

She [Melisandre] made her way down, the hem of her scarlet skirts swishing over the steps. It almost seemed as if she floated. "Where is your direwolf?"

"Asleep in my chambers. Her Grace does not allow Ghost in her presence. She claims he scares the princess. And so long as Borroq and his boar are about, I dare not let him loose."

+.+.+

"Selyse has the right of this, Lord Snow. Let them die. You cannot save them. Your ships are lost—"

"Six remain. More than half the fleet."

"Your ships are lost. All of them. Not a man shall return. I have seen that in my fires."

Melisandre is always kinda right / kinda wrong, so we'll have to wait and see how this plays out.

+.+.+

"I have made mistakes, I have admitted as much, but—"

"A grey girl on a dying horse. Daggers in the dark. A promised prince, born in smoke and salt. It seems to me that you make nothing but mistakes, my lady. Where is Stannis? What of Rattleshirt and his spearwives? Where is my sister?"

See? There is a sister in grey, there are daggers in the dark, and there is a promised princess born amidst salt and smoke. Kinda right / kinda wrong.

All we needed was Moqorro.

+.+.+

"All your questions shall be answered. Look to the skies, Lord Snow. And when you have your answers, send to me. Winter is almost upon us now. I am your only hope."

She botched this so badly, a raven will come, and he won't send for her. I cry.

+.+.+

"There is still much to decide. Spread the word. I want all the leading men in the Shieldhall when the evening watch begins. Tormund should be back by then. Where can I find Toregg?"

"With the little monster, like as not. He's taken a liking to one o' them milkmaids, I hear."

He has taken a liking to Val. Her sister was a queen, why not her? Tormund had once thought to make himself the King-Beyond-the-Wall, before Mance had bested him. Toregg the Tall might well be dreaming the same dream.

I don't want to rain all over the Val x Jon shipper parade (bwaha lies), but I have to point out that's the second time we've randomly paired Toregg and Val.

"Har!" laughed Tormund Giantsbane. "Don't bandy words with this one, Lord Snow, she's too clever for the likes o' you and me. Best steal her quick, before Toregg wakes up and takes her first."

[...]

But that bridge had been burned a long time ago, and Jon himself had thrown the torch. "Toregg is welcome to her," he announced. "I took a vow." - Jon XI, ADWD

Notice how much Jon doesn't care?

Remember how much Jon hated Joffrey before there was a reason to hate Joffrey? Yeah.

+.+.+

Outside the armory, Mully and the Flea stood shivering at guard. "Shouldn't you be inside, out of this wind?" Jon asked.

"That'd be sweet, m'lord," said Fulk the Flea, "but your wolf's in no mood for company today."

Mully agreed. "He tried to take a bite o' me, he did."

"Ghost?" Jon was shocked.

"Unless your lordship has some other white wolf, aye. I never seen him like this, m'lord. All wild-like, I mean."

He was not wrong, as Jon discovered for himself when he slipped inside the doors. The big white direwolf would not lie still. He paced from one end of the armory to the other, past the cold forge and back again. "Easy, Ghost," Jon called. "Down. Sit, Ghost. Down." Yet when he made to touch him, the wolf bristled and bared his teeth. It's that bloody boar. Even in here, Ghost can smell his stink.

+.+.+

But no sooner had Jon finished than the Lord Steward said, "Her Grace is wise. Let them die."

Jon sat back. "Is that the only counsel you can offer, my lord? Tormund is bringing eighty men. How many should we send? Shall we call upon the giants? The spearwives at Long Barrow? If we have women with us, it may put Mother Mole's people at ease."

"Send women, then. Send giants. Send suckling babes. Is that what my lord wishes to hear?" Bowen Marsh rubbed at the scar he had won at the Bridge of Skulls. "Send them all. The more we lose, the fewer mouths we'll have to feed."

I'm begging you to tell this man about the loan. He's beyond terrified over the lack of food, he won't shut up about it, please tell the man there's money to buy food. Historically people do violent things when there's no food, Jon.

+.+.+

Satin helped them back into their cloaks. As they walked through the armory, Ghost sniffed at them, his tail upraised and bristling. My brothers.

Jon, your wolf is talking.

+.+.+

"How many men do we have in ice cells?" he asked Bowen Marsh.

"Four living men. Two dead ones."

The corpses. Jon had almost forgotten them. He had hoped to learn something from the bodies they'd brought back from the weirwood grove, but the dead men had stubbornly remained dead. "We need to dig those cells out."

[...]

"What would the lord commander like us to do with his corpses?" asked Marsh when the living men had been moved.

"Leave them." If the storm entombed them, well and good. He would need to burn them eventually, no doubt, but for the nonce they were bound with iron chains inside their cells. That, and being dead, should suffice to hold them harmless.

Oh right, the dead corpses. Can't forget about the dead corpses. For some reason they seem important.

I hope this doesn't mean I won't get to read about Gendry running a sub-5 minute marathon in a blizzard.

+.+.+

Someone had already told the Thunderfist about Gerrick Kingsblood and his new style. "King o' the Wildlings?" Tormund roared. "Har! King o' My Hairy Butt Crack, more like."

"He has a regal look to him," Jon said.

"He has a little red cock to go with all that red hair, that's what he has. Raymund Redbeard and his sons died at Long Lake, thanks to your bloody Starks and the Drunken Giant. Not the little brother. Ever wonder why they called him the Red Raven?" Tormund's mouth split in a gap-toothed grin. "First to fly the battle, he was. 'Twas a song about it, after. The singer had to find a rhyme for craven, so …" He wiped his nose. "If your queen's knights want those girls o' his, they're welcome to them."

Is this hinting at someone else? I can't think of anyone other than the Hound.

+.+.+

Mully had not been wrong; the old steward was trembling, his face as pale as the snows outside. "I am being foolish, Lord Commander, but … this letter frightens me. See here?"

Bastard, was the only word written outside the scroll. No Lord Snow or Jon Snow or Lord Commander. Simply Bastard. And the letter was sealed with a smear of hard pink wax. "You were right to come at once," Jon said. You were right to be afraid. He cracked the seal, flattened the parchment, and read.

Welcome to Your Theory is Bad, and Here's Why.

Clydas thrust the parchment forward. It was tightly rolled and sealed, with a button of hard pink wax. Only the Dreadfort uses pink sealing wax. - Jon VI, ADWD

Only the Dreadfort uses pink wax. It is extremely unlikely Clydas wrote this letter and sealed it with pink wax he didn't have on hand.

+.+.+

Your false king is dead, bastard. He and all his host were smashed in seven days of battle. I have his magic sword. Tell his red whore.

Your false king's friends are dead. Their heads upon the walls of Winterfell. Come see them, bastard. Your false king lied, and so did you. You told the world you burned the King-Beyond-the-Wall. Instead you sent him to Winterfell to steal my bride from me.

I will have my bride back. If you want Mance Rayder back, come and get him. I have him in a cage for all the north to see, proof of your lies. The cage is cold, but I have made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell.

I want my bride back. I want the false king's queen. I want his daughter and his red witch. I want his wildling princess. I want his little prince, the wildling babe. And I want my Reek. Send them to me, bastard, and I will not trouble you or your black crows. Keep them from me, and I will cut out your bastard's heart and eat it.

It was signed,

Ramsay Bolton,

Trueborn Lord of Winterfell.

I see lies. If Ramsay had defeated Stannis (or Mors Umber), he'd know Jon doesn't have Theon.

Despite Ramsay having a notable hang-up about being called a bastard,

The dogs swarmed around them, snapping and snarling at the strangers. The Bastard's girls, Reek thought, before he remembered that one must never, never, never use that word in Ramsay's presence. - Reek II, ADWD

and signing this letter with Trueborn Lord of Winterfell, people still believe it's Mance who would excessively call Jon a bastard.

Your theory is bad.

Mance was left behind when Jeyne and Theon escaped (a castle that had no other exits), and was obviously apprehended given everything Ramsay knows. How would Mance be writing letters to Jon Snow? It will be a miracle if Mance has half his fingers left.

Your theory is bad.

Side note, kind of strange Rattleshirt-Mance was last seen in a cage without a cloak.

+.+.+

He handed Tormund Giantsbane the letter. "Here, see for yourself."

The wildling gave the letter a dubious look and handed it right back. "Feels nasty … but Tormund Thunderfist had better things to do than learn to make papers talk at him. They never have any good to say, now do they?"

Lots is made about the fact that Jon never mentions Ramsay's infamous spiky writing.

Ramsay Bolton, Lord of the Hornwood, it read, in a huge, spiky hand. The brown ink came away in flakes when Jon brushed it with his thumb. - Jon VI, ADWD

Hello? It's implied. Tormund can't read, why would he think the letter feels nasty?

Jon knows Ramsay's handwriting, you don't think he's going to immediately question the handwriting if it doesn't match what he's seen before?

Your theory is bad.

+.+.+

Dark wings, dark words. Perhaps there was more truth to those wise old sayings than he'd known. "It was sent by Ramsay Snow. I'll read you what he wrote."

Jon started off this book referring to him as Ramsay Bolton.

"That will bring you to the Dreadfort," said Jon, "but unless your host can outmarch a raven or a line of beacon fires, the castle will know of your approach. It will be an easy thing for Ramsay Bolton to cut off your retreat and leave you far from the Wall, without food or refuge, surrounded by your foes." - Jon IV, ADWD

Now he exclusively uses Ramsay Snow.

+.+.+

When he was done, Tormund whistled. "Har. That's buggered, and no mistake. What was that about Mance? Has him in a cage, does he? How, when hundreds saw your red witch burn the man?"

That was Rattleshirt, Jon almost said. That was sorcery. A glamor, she called it. "Melisandre … look to the skies, she said." He set the letter down. "A raven in a storm. She saw this coming." When you have your answers, send to me.

He doesn't send for her. She would know if Stannis was dead. Ho hum.

+.+.+

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

How dare he call Bran a monkey.

What can I say about this that hasn't already been said? Should I point out the peculiar things Jon liked most about Ygritte?

And maybe her eyes were too far apart, but they were a pretty blue-grey color, and lively as any eyes he knew. Sometimes she sang in a low husky voice that stirred him. And sometimes by the cookfire when she sat hugging her knees with the flames waking echoes in her red hair, and looked at him, just smiling . . . well, that stirred some things as well. - Jon II, ASOS

Should I mention Jon invented a version of Ygritte that never existed?

He could tell she did not believe him. If I could show her Winterfell . . . give her a flower from the glass gardens, feast her in the Great Hall, and show her the stone kings on their thrones. We could bathe in the hot pools, and love beneath the heart tree while the old gods watched over us. - Jon V, ASOS

"Then I'd push him in a stream or throw a bucket o' water on him. Anyhow, men shouldn't smell sweet like flowers."

"What's wrong with flowers?"

"Nothing, for a bee. For bed I want one o' these." Ygritte made to grab the front of his breeches. - Jon V, ASOS

"Who is Ygritte?" Donal Noye asked pointedly.

"A woman of the free folk." How could he explain Ygritte to them? She's warm and smart and funny and she can kiss a man or slit his throat. - Jon VI, ASOS

When his eyelids fluttered open, he was wrapped in thick wool and floating. He could not seem to move, but that did not matter. For a time he dreamed that Ygritte was with him, tending him with gentle hands. Finally he closed his eyes and slept. - Jon VI, ASOS

Should we simply laugh at all the other oddities?

Ygritte punched his arm. "You know nothing, Jon Snow. I'm half a fish, I'll have you know." - Jon V, ASOS

She punched him. "That's vile. Would you bed your sister?" - Jon III, ASOS

"She even claimed we were kin. She told me a story . . ." - Jon VII, ACOK

Or maybe I'll make the argument that Ygritte is no winter rose, and Jon had no desire to steal her.

Jon sat up. "Ygritte, I never stole you."

"Aye, you did. You jumped down the mountain and killed Orell, and afore I could get my axe you had a knife at my throat. I thought you'd have me then, or kill me, or maybe both, but you never did. And when I told you the tale o' Bael the Bard and how he plucked the rose o' Winterfell, I thought you'd know to pluck me then for certain, but you didn't. You know nothing, Jon Snow." - Jon III, ASOS

We're still waiting on that.

+.+.+

"I think we had best change the plan," Jon Snow said.

They talked for the best part of two hours.

Horse and Rory had replaced Fulk and Mully at the armory door with the change of watch. "With me," Jon told them, when the time came. Ghost would have followed as well, but as the wolf came padding after them, Jon grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and wrestled him back inside. Borroq might be amongst those gathering at the Shieldhall. The last thing he needed just now was his wolf savaging the skinchanger's boar.

+.+.+

When Jon and Tormund entered, a sound went through the hall, like wasps stirring in a nest. The wildlings outnumbered the crows by five to one, judging by how little black he saw.

This is only inside the Shieldhall, but it's worth mentioning that when Jon is stabbed the wildlings badly outnumber the watchmen at Castle Black. Not clear whether Bowen Marsh has a plan for that.

+.+.+

"I summoned you to make plans for the relief of Hardhome," Jon Snow began. "Thousands of the free folk are gathered there, trapped and starving, and we have had reports of dead things in the wood." To his left he saw Marsh and Yarwyck. Othell was surrounded by his builders, whilst Bowen had Wick Whittlestick, Left Hand Lew, and Alf of Runnymudd beside him.

We have confirmation on Bowen and Wick, I'm guessing Lew and Runnymudd are the other mutineers.

+.+.+

Borroq leaned against a wall in a dark corner. Mercifully, his boar was nowhere in evidence.

Then why is Ghost agitated? Jon?

+.+.+

Two of Queen Selyse's knights had come as well, Jon saw. Ser Narbert and Ser Benethon stood near the door at the foot of the hall. But the rest of the queen's men were conspicuous in their absence.

They're off stealing The Wildling Formerly Known as Princess.

+.+.+

A flash of red in the back of the hall caught Jon's eye. Lady Melisandre had arrived.

Almost like she was expecting that raven.

+.+.+

"But now I find I cannot go to Hardhome. The ranging will be led by Tormund Giantsbane, known to you all. I have promised him as many men as he requires."

"And where will you be, crow?" Borroq thundered. "Hiding here in Castle Black with your white dog?"

"No. I ride south." Then Jon read them the letter Ramsay Snow had written.

The Shieldhall went mad.

Jon will be murdered before Tormund can leave, so if Melisandre is correct and everyone at Hardhome is doomed, it shouldn't include the Horn-blower.

+.+.+

"The Night's Watch takes no part in the wars of the Seven Kingdoms," Jon reminded them when some semblance of quiet had returned. "It is not for us to oppose the Bastard of Bolton, to avenge Stannis Baratheon, to defend his widow and his daughter. This creature who makes cloaks from the skins of women has sworn to cut my heart out, and I mean to make him answer for those words … but I will not ask my brothers to forswear their vows.

"The Night's Watch will make for Hardhome. I ride to Winterfell alone, unless …" Jon paused. "… is there any man here who will come stand with me?"

The roar was all he could have hoped for, the tumult so loud that the two old shields tumbled from the walls. Soren Shieldbreaker was on his feet, the Wanderer as well. Toregg the Tall, Brogg, Harle the Huntsman and Harle the Handsome both, Ygon Oldfather, Blind Doss, even the Great Walrus. I have my swords, thought Jon Snow, and we are coming for you, Bastard.

This is a hard one, because on one hand we love Jon the character for his big heart, love of family, and constant resistance to injustice, but on the other hand I don't think he should be doing this right now.

I don't view this in the same way I view Ned rebelling against a tyrannical monarchy, or refusing to serve Robert when he wants to commit cruel acts. This is personal vendetta.

Yes, there's the obvious parallel with Brandon Stark attempting to save and avenge Lyanna, but Ramsay has told Jon that Arya has escaped, and Jon is not remotely focused on that. There's no plan whatsoever with regards to finding Arya. Like, come on.

+.+.+

Yarwyck and Marsh were slipping out, he saw, and all their men behind them. It made no matter. He did not need them now. He did not want them. No man can ever say I made my brothers break their vows. If this is oathbreaking, the crime is mine and mine alone.

What's the punishment for oathbreaking, Jon?

+.+.+

Melisandre was gone, he realized, and so were the queen's knights. I should have gone to Selyse first. She has the right to know her lord is dead.

Honestly? Inexcusable. Imagine Catelyn and one of her children finding out Ned died because a bunch of soldiers were screaming about it in a dining hall somewhere.

Jon's a little too consumed with how this letter affects Jon, and what kills me is that if he went to Selyse first, Melisandre would have told him Stannis is not dead.

+.+.+

Horse and Rory fell in beside Jon as he left the Shieldhall. I should talk with Melisandre after I see the queen, he thought. If she could see a raven in a storm, she can find Ramsay Snow for me.

Again.

It's a battle of the bastards!

+.+.+

Then he heard the shouting … and a roar so loud it seemed to shake the Wall. "That come from Hardin's Tower, m'lord," Horse reported. He might have said more, but the scream cut him off.

Val, was Jon's first thought. But that was no woman's scream. That is a man in mortal agony. He broke into a run. Horse and Rory raced after him. "Is it wights?" asked Rory. Jon wondered. Could his corpses have escaped their chains?

You mustn't forget the corpses, everyone.

+.+.+

The screaming had stopped by the time they came to Hardin's Tower, but Wun Weg Wun Dar Wun was still roaring. The giant was dangling a bloody corpse by one leg, the same way Arya used to dangle her doll when she was small, swinging it like a morningstar when menaced by vegetables. Arya never tore her dolls to pieces, though. The dead man's sword arm was yards away, the snow beneath it turning red.

Wait until you meet the new Arya.

"Just leave me be." She wouldn't, though, so finally Arya took the doll away from her, ripped it open, and pulled the rag stuffing out of its belly with a finger. "Now he really looks like a soldier!" she said, before she threw the doll in a brook. - Arya XII, ASOS

+.+.+

He swung the dead knight against the grey stone of the tower, again and again and again, until the man's head was red and pulpy as a summer melon. The knight's cloak flapped in the cold air. Of white wool it had been, bordered in cloth-of-silver and patterned with blue stars. Blood and bone were flying everywhere.

Men poured from the surrounding keeps and towers. Northmen, free folk, queen's men … "Form a line," Jon Snow commanded them. "Keep them back. Everyone, but especially the queen's men." The dead man was Ser Patrek of King's Mountain; his head was largely gone, but his heraldry was as distinctive as his face.

Rest in peace, Ser Patrek of Dallas Cowboy Mountain. Too bad that wildling wasn't worth it.

By the way, Preston Jacobs doesn't believe this guy is dead either. I'm not joking.

+.+.+

Oh no.

+.+.+

A horn, I need a horn. He saw the glint of steel, turned toward it. "No blades!" he screamed. "Wick, put that knife …"

… away, he meant to say. When Wick Whittlestick slashed at his throat, the word turned into a grunt. Jon twisted from the knife, just enough so it barely grazed his skin. He cut me. When he put his hand to the side of his neck, blood welled between his fingers. "Why?"

"For the Watch." Wick slashed at him again. This time Jon caught his wrist and bent his arm back until he dropped the dagger. The gangling steward backed away, his hands upraised as if to say, Not me, it was not me.

+.+.+

Jon reached for Longclaw, but his fingers had grown stiff and clumsy. Somehow he could not seem to get the sword free of its scabbard.

He began to flex his hand, opening and closing the fingers. If he let his sword hand stiffen and grow clumsy, it well might be the end of him, he knew. - Jon II, ACOK

+.+.+

Then Bowen Marsh stood there before him, tears running down his cheeks. "For the Watch." He punched Jon in the belly. When he pulled his hand away, the dagger stayed where he had buried it.

+.+.+

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger's hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. "Ghost," he whispered.

The fighting will be done and someone will tell me whether I'm to live or die. "Lady," she whimpered softly, wondering if she would meet her wolf again when she was dead. - Sansa VII, ACOK

"Jeyne?" Robb grabbed the edge of the table and forced himself to stand. "Mother," he said, "Grey Wind . . ." - Catelyn VII, ASOS

+.+.+

Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold …

<- The Dragontamer

When he raised his whip, he saw that the lash was burning. His hand as well. All of him, all of him was burning.

Final thoughts:

Beware the Ides of March!

If there's a silver lining, while Jon is being stabbed to death with daggers in the dark, he recalls Arya's pointy end.

AGOT: Jon II -> Daenerys II

"First lesson," Jon said. "Stick them with the pointy end."

Arya gave him a whap on the arm with the flat of her blade. The blow stung, but Jon found himself grinning like an idiot. "I know which end to use," Arya said. - Jon II, AGOT

AGOT: Arya II -> Daenerys III

"Arya, what did you think to do with this … Needle? Who did you hope to skewer? Your sister? Septa Mordane? Do you know the first thing about sword fighting?"

All she could think of was the lesson Jon had given her. "Stick them with the pointy end," she blurted out. - Arya II, AGOT

Yeah Arya, who? Who did you hope to skewer?

Anyway, that sucked. Would not recommend. Bye Jon.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #jon xiii

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aegor-bamfsteel · 11 months

Note

Other than Stannis Baratheon and maybe various Starks, are there any nobles in particular who would likewise value Davos Seaworth’s brand of council?

Well, we see Davos’ council is borne from decades of experience at sea, he’s steadfastly loyal, he’s not a flatterer, can’t read, is looked down on by many for being lowborn lacking that polish. I can see a few nobles valuing his council:

It makes a lot of sense that some of Essosi nobility, particularly those from the coastal areas, would consider him well. It’s said among the Three Daughters (Lys, Tyrosh, and Myr) that wealth is more important than birth and they all make their living through the sea. Salladhor Saan is a personal friend, and he’s from a noble Lyseni family, so he’s already got sort of an in with that area.

The Ironborn also make their living through the sea. Even men descended from thralls and salt wives can become nobles, though not as respected as the higher born. I think they’d appreciate Davos‘ sea knowledge and steadfast loyalty, while not holding his birth against him to the degree the Reachmen do

Some of the blunter, poorer Northmen like House Umber and the mountain clansmen may appreciate Davos’ bluntness, lack of frippery, and general competence in naval areas as well, considering they’ve also had dealings with the Free Folk raiding by sea

Maybe the men of the Golden Company, as they choose their officers by merit rather than birth and have a loyal reputation

Maybe some of those Tàrgs that employed men of humble birth like Jaehaerys I and Aegon V

#ask #iyo anon #davos seaworth #asoiaf #opinion

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eddysocs · 7 months

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Introducing: Theodosia Ostaris

Fandom: Game Of Thrones

Face Claim: Angel Coulby

Full Name: Theodosia Andala Ostaris

Nickname/Alias/Pet Names: Queen of Meereen

Age: 27

Myers Briggs Type: ISFJ

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Love Interest: Davos Seaworth

Collections: Seashells

Style/Clothing: Theodosia loves warm hues, especially oranges and reds. She tends to favor a more modest look, but more rich and intricate designs also suit her well.

Signature Quote: "I never sought finery. I merely wished for a good life, and one that brought me happiness in any form."

Plot Summary: When Daenerys leaves Daario in charge of Meereen, the transition is not smooth and the people seek one of their own to rule them. Listening to the peoples' plight, Daario chooses a queen, the daughter of a silk merchant who is widely loved by her city's people. Theodosia had no intentions of being queen, and certainly none of being wed to Daario, but her father pushes her to accept. She does, but on one condition; she wishes to choose her own husband to become king consort. Daario will stay on only as her advisor. Her terms accepted, everyone is shocked when she requests Davos Seaworth as her intended.

Forever Tag: @arrthurpendragon, @baubeautyandthegeek, @foxesandmagic, @carmens-garden, @fawera, @themaradaniels, @that-demigirl, @iloveocs, @bossyladies, @b1rvt4, @getawaycardotmp3, @misshiraethsworld, @kmc1989

#oc: theodosia ostaris #fc: angel coulby #fd: game of thrones

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dilfbracket · 1 year

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Phoenix Wright (ace at tour) vs Dadvos Seaworth

FAVORITE MAN CAVE ACTIVITY -

"This man canonically plays piano poorly as a front for quasi-legal poker games in the basement of a bar, while he drinks NON ALCOHOLIC grape juice (genuinely, it's not even a translation thing). When not doing that he's supporting his daughter's magic shows!"

"Fixing up his boat, learning to read"

mod note: one of the submissions for phoenix was very specific about it being this version of him. for your consideration:

#ace attorney #game of thrones #asoiaf #phoenix wright #davos seaworth #tumblr polls #dilf bracket

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demonscantgothere · 1 year

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Finishing this as promised now that I am writing again. I feel bad. Pls don't kill me.

Her Liquor’s Top Shelf by Helholden for Irenka - Chapter 122: A Red Door

Fandoms: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)

Warnings: Mature, Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, F/M, M/M, Work in Progress

Relationship(s): Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell

Characters: Sansa Stark, Joffrey Baratheon, Sandor Clegane, Ned Stark, Catelyn Stark, Arya Stark, Robb Stark, Bran Stark, Rickon Stark, Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy, Gendry Waters, Robert Baratheon, Cersei Lannister, Margaery Tyrell, Loras Tyrell, Jaime Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Renly Baratheon, Brienne of Tarth, The Elder Brother (ASoIaF), Steffon Seaworth, Allard Seaworth, Asha Greyjoy, Petyr Baelish, Gregor Clegane, Ramsay Bolton, Davos Seaworth, Daenerys Targaryen, Arianne Martell, Oberyn Martell, Nymeria Sand, Sarella Sand, Barristan Selmy, Jorah Mormont, Edric Storm

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Developing Relationship, Secret Relationship, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Organized Crime, Humor

Chapter Summary:

It was as if a fire had taken a hold of the station. The night sky was alight with flashes of light in all different colors, exploding on the scene before the building. Jaime stepped out of the car immediately, staring slack-jawed at the flurry of activity coming and going in all directions. People were hollering. Camera bulbs flashed in blinding snaps. A barricade had been set up to offset the wave of reporters and vans, vehicles, and onlookers who had showed up. They all wanted to get inside, or they at least wanted information.

Jaime had no idea where to go first. Shutting the car door behind him, he made a beeline for the crowd of people gathering around the entrance past the front gates. There the crowd was the thickest, and officers were blocking the gateway into the station. He needed another route in. No one but authorized personnel were passing through this spot.

Every officer was either on duty or called in for whatever it was, so Jaime kept his head low in hopes no one would recognize him. Too much was going on to pay attention to one more face, he hoped. Besides, he used to work here. He knew all the ways in and out.

“It’s the arrest of the decade,” a woman reporter announced into her microphone as Jaime passed by. “The only daughter of the former political tycoon, Tywin Lannister, has been brought into custody. Cersei Lannister faces charges of conspiracy, fraud, money laundering, and more. Early reports are even saying she faces charges of conspiracy to commit kidnapping and murder. If convicted . . . ”

Keep Reading

#sansan #sandor x sansa #sansa x sandor #my fic #her liquor's top shelf #hlts

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west1rosi · 7 months

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NEW HIGHLIGHTED MUSES PART TWO:

Lady Myrmadora Haen of Lys - Semi Canon. Myrmadora is the daughter of a Lysani Magister and her father's ambassador during her stay in Westeros. She is known for her rather scandalous clothes and open opinions about the Faith of the Seven. Like most Lysani Houses, she is descendant of the Valyrians who used Lys as a vacation location and speaks High Valyrian. Myrmadora has two verses, one during the dance and another during the main storyline. During the dance, Myrmadora remains impartial during the dance, although she prefers a woman in power. During the main storyline, Myrmadora is in Lys when Daenerys Targaryen begins to release the free cities.

Daemon Sand - Canon. The Bastard of Godsgrace. Damon is a knight and one of Dorne's finest swords. Close in age to Princess Arianne, he asked Doran for her hand but was rejected by the ruling Prince. Daemon was part of the entourage that accompanied Prince Oberyn Martell to King's Landing to take his seat in the Council. He assisted Oberyn during the combat with The Mountain. He has pledged himself to Arianne as one of her knights and worked during the Queenmaker Conspiracy to place Myrcella on the throne.

Ellyna Reyne - OC. Surviving daughter of House Reyne, her mother died in childbirth while in hiding up North with her family, the Cassels. Ellyna has always passed as part of the Cassel household and when the war broke through, she has been gathering support for her to reclaim her family's ancestral home. Due to her similar struggles, Ellyna is in favor of Daenerys Targaryen reclaiming the throne and she pledges her alliance to the North when they claim their independence.

Wylla Manderly - Canon. Is the second daughter of Ser Wylis Manderly and Leona Woolfield. As part of the terms of White Harbor being pardoned and returning to the king's peace of Tommen I Baratheon, Wylla is betrothed to Little Walder Frey, a squire of Ramsay Bolton. Wylla goes on to tell of the promises of loyalty House Manderly made to House Stark when they were exiled from the Reach centuries ago. Finally, her mother, Lady Leona, has to drag her from the hall.After faking the execution of Davos and releasing him from imprisonment in the Wolf's Den, the scheming Wyman reveals his true feelings about the Freys and calls Wylla brave.

Marlon Manderly - Canon. Marlon Manderly is a knight of House Manderly and cousin to the head of the house, Lord Wyman Manderly. He is the commander of the garrison at the New Castle in White Harbor. The frank Ser Marlon can be haughty and disdainful. His helm is modeled after the head of the Merling King, having a crown of mother-of-pearl and a beard of jet and jade. Marlon escorts Lord Davos Seaworth, an envoy of Stannis Baratheon, to the Merman's Court in the New Castle. Standing by the right hand of Lord Wyman Manderly, Marlon curtly questions Davos about Stannis's prospects. Wyman publicly orders his cousin to have Davos taken to the Wolf's Den and executed. The Manderlys secretly spare Davos, however.

Asher Forrester. Video Game Canon. Adapted to the show. The secondborn son of Lord Gregor Forrester and Lady Elissa Forrester. Much quicker to anger than his older brother, Asher's relationship with his father became strained and one too many mistakes resulted in his exile. His uncle, Malcolm, tracks him down in Yunkai and persuades him that House Forrester and Ironrath need him to assure their survival. He tries to father support from Daenerys Targaryen, even aiding at the release of Yunkai and Mereen but eventually sails home to get his family back and reclaim his ancestral home. Once up Norther, Asher is a supporter of Jon Snow and is among the lords proclaiming him King in the North.

#⸻ . ✷ ❛ artworks ❜ 〉mutuals can interact .#⸻ . ✷ ❛ out of character ❜ 〉the dead are coming .

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writingsofwesteros · 5 months

Note

Sandor meeting Davos Seaworths daughter....some out of great houses loving

Sandor is too damn cute sometimes !!

#hot thtos

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ofperzys · 1 year

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@uncrvwned | “ why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again? ” ( davos 🥺😔 )

question prompts | accepting

ㅤ" it's a possibility to consider. if i don't return, i will need a man i TRUST to seat my daughter on the iron throne. "

ㅤthough, stannis' tone lacked its usual sharpened steel edge - not enough for most to notice, but davos surely will. it's still a wonder to the him how his onion knight had been so shocked when stannis was to name him his Hand. as if any other man in the seven kingdoms was as HONEST & capable as davos seaworth.

ㅤstannis doesn't say as much, however. he's never been good with sentiment, preferring to drown in words & wishes he can't say or act on.

ㅤhe turns away from davos, gaze growing STERN as stannis scans the maps & pawns laid out over the table. " ... shireen trusts you. should i die in the coming battle, i've no doubt she'll want you to serve in her court. all your efforts will be rewarded. "

#[ asks ] ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉᵉ 🔥#uncrvwned

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uncrvwned · 1 year

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oop here's a mini attempt at an updated muse list! bolded are entirely new, and I have some new OCs under testing too. (mostly) updated carrd!

primary

Catelyn Tully

Deria Martell (OC)

Ellaria Sand

Willas Tyrell

secondary

Edmure Tully

Harwin Strong

Jeyne Westerling

Jon Snow

Loras Tyrell

Maris Rivers (OC)

Rhaenys I Targaryen

Samantha Tarly (awoiaf)

tertiary

Davos Seaworth

Jhogo (awoiaf)

Jon Connington

Leonette Fossoway

Lyssa Peake (OC)

Rowena Corbray Arryn (OC)

Sybelle Glover (awoiaf)

on request

Allyria Dayne

Alys Karstark

Daario Naharis

Roslin Frey

new testing ocs

Cassana Bolton - OC Bolton daughter. v undeveloped I just know I want her to be evil and manipulative. FC: Leyla Tanlar.

Serala - former slave, current sellsword and archer for the Windblown/Second Sons, verse depending. FC: Amita Suman.

Steffar Blacktyde - OC brother of Baelor Blacktyde. Obsessed with the Old Ways and the Iron Price. Captain of Maidensbane. FC: Leo Suter.

#( ooc )#so i didn't trim. i added. but i'm excited!

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janiedean · 2 years

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OH A LIZARD!

a cute lizard I have to say why are all these dragons nicer than the got ones

awwwww okay that poor goat is cute but I guess not long for this world

oh god is this whoever tames this dragon gets it

alicent's kids all look dead inside fair enough

rip poor goat

nomnomnom mr dragon

... okay but poor aemond this is shitty af don't bully the kid TT

uuuh I guesssssss it's yeah hello vhagar

is that helena aw TT

alicent don't be anti-lizard you married one of them

is there a ned making viserys the little figurines oh god

alicent laenor doesn't like women okay whatever

viserys and ned being bros in finding out about genetics aren't they

I mean one should hope he doesn't watch his daughter and her husband have sex so better he doesn't

I see ser criston is still employed isn't he

ser criston come on ugh you really got worse in the last..... twenty minutes of this show huh

HONOR AND DECENCY in this court????? please

... OKAY WHAT THE FUCK

IS THAT AEGON LIKE AEGON FFS THERE'S A BED TO JERK OFF AND ALICENT DID YOU EVER HEAR OF KNOCKING

... jfc I see aegon is already as insufferable as he was in the book okay then

alicent good lord don't go the cersei route like he's insufferable but screaming in his face shouldn't be an option

this is honestly a song of parental abuse all over until davos seaworth shows up or what

#janie watches hotd #janie watches the lizards show #house of the dragon spoilers for ts

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ao3feed-tywin · 10 months

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Hidden Dragon among the Lions

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/t1P8rnV

by 10868letsgo

This started before season 1 came. Eleana Targaryen is the daughter of the Mad King and the noble house of Karstarks. During the Rebellion, Tywin Lannister he must repaid the debt to her mother. So, he taken her in and raised as his daughter name Eleanor Hill to keep her safe. Now war has come upon them and can she play part of the game or died trying?

Words: 10259, Chapters: 7/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Game of Thrones (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Robb Stark, Original Female Character(s), Ned Stark, Catelyn Tully Stark, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Bran Stark, Rickon Stark, Rickard Karstark, Torrhen Karstark, Harald Karstark, Alys Karstark, Tywin Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Kevan Lannister, Genna Lannister, Joy Hill, Robert Baratheon, Stannis Baratheon, Selyse Baratheon, Renly Baratheon, Joffrey Baratheon, Myrcella Baratheon, Shireen Baratheon, Tommen Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, Aerys II Targaryen, Rhaella Targaryen (Wife of Aerys II), Rhaegar Targaryen, Viserys Targaryen (Brother of Daenerys), Daenerys Targaryen, Elia Martell, Doran Martell, Oberyn Martell, Sand Snakes (ASoIaF), Lyanna Stark, Theon Greyjoy, Euron Greyjoy, Balon Greyjoy, Asha Greyjoy | Yara Greyjoy, The Others | White Walker Character(s) (A Song of Ice and Fire)

Relationships: Robb Stark/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Slow Romance, Duty, Politics, Family Secrets, Action/Adventure, Kings & Queens, Healing, Making Love, Flashbacks, Mystery

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/t1P8rnV

#ao3feed #fanfic #ao3feed tywin #ao3feed tywin lannister

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wonwoosthetic · 5 years

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Escapees || Gendry Baratheon

MASTERLIST is in my bio!

Request: hello! i was wondering if i could have a gendry imagine. could you do something where the reader is davos seaworths (idk if i even spelt that right) daughter and she kind of keeps him company while he’s the red woman’s prisoner and then later helps him escape with davos. i’m sorry if that’s a really shitty idea

This is absolutely not a shitty idea, I loved writing this so much!! Thank you for the request, I hope you and everyone else enjoys it! :) <3

Characters: Gendry Baratheon (Waters) x Reader, Davos Seaworth, King Stannis Baratheon, Melisandre of Asshai (mentioned), Ramsay Bolton (mentioned)

Season: 3

Warnings: none (besides of a couple curse words)

Words: 3,593

Escapees

You had been sitting in your cell for longer than you would have wanted, looking at the brick walls, leaning on one of them while sitting on the cold floor. Your thoughts drifted to how your life has changed within a few weeks. After being captured by severs of the House Baratheon of Dragonstone your faith had been destined. King Stannis Baratheon had been keeping your father, Davos Seaworth, and you separated from each other ever since your arrival, you were only allowed to see him every third day. You guess, you could say, that you got lucky in the sense that you had not been killed yet... under one condition: you are going to marry Ramsay Snow. Ramsay Snow, a high born bastard.

With this, Lord Baratheon is hoping to come to terms with the House Bolton, only to take it over once "peace" settled over them. Your arranged marriage had made it possible for your father to stay alive as well but from what you had heard of the guards' conversations, King Baratheon was considering your father for the position of Hand of the King. Which would mean freedom for him... and possibly for you too.

Nights and days went by before you were allowed to see your father again, more than usual, or so it felt. One day you were awoken by two guards dragging you out of your cell. Confused and scarred for your life, you tried freeing yourself out of their tight grip around your arms - while you were screaming and kicking, the man holding you did not flinch once. The light of the day hit you, making you squint your eyes as you entered one of the many rooms in the castle, where your father and King Baratheon were already waiting for you. After standing on your own feet again with no one's hands on you, you ran across the room into your father's arms, hugging him as tightly as possible.

"Thank the gods. I thought I was never going to see you again", you mumbled into his chest. "It has been very stressful for the last days. I wanted to make some arrangements", he answered, taking your face in his hands, looking at you, like you were the last close family member he had because... you were. You scrunched your eyebrows when he said "arrangments" and tilted your head but before you were able to ask your question, Lord Baratheon took the word, "So, Ser Davos and I have been talking", your head spun to your dad as you heard "Ser" and you proudly smiled at him "(Y/N), after your father is now Hand of the King, you shall too receive something. I am going to give you a bed to sleep in one of our chambers. You cannot look like this when you are supposed to marry Ramsay Snow." Your eyes fell down as soon as the Lord finished his announcement, still feeling ashamed of what was awaiting you in a near future. But quickly, you rose your head again and looked him in the eyes, "Thank you, King Baratheon, I will stay forever thankful." He just gave you a nod and did not mention it again, "One of the guards will guide you and your father to the chamber, so he knows where to find you." "Thank you", your father and you nodded and exited the room, following a guard to the room, which you would be able to call your own.

In the chambers, you were left alone with your father to talk and catch up on news from outside of the cells. "So, you're a Ser now?", you asked with a grin of pride on your face. Your father chuckled and looked at the ground, "Yes, I suppose I am", then his eyes drifted towards you, "I'm deeply sorry." With a confused look, you got closer to him, "What for?", "That I wasn't able to call the marriage off", you nodded and looked away while he continued, "I don't want you to marry that Snow lad and I will find a way out of this." "Father", you tried calming him down by your hands on top of his, giving them a squeeze, "you do not have to be sorry. It's not your fault nor has it ever been. I will find happiness eventually - I'm sure." You always tried to find the positive side of conflicts, it was the last thing you could do.

He gave you a tight smile, not wanting to believe your words because you deserve better than to be married to a monster like Ramsay Snow. "But enough of me. What about you? What are you doing all day long?", you tried getting his thoughts off you, being more worried about him. "A little bit of everything right now...", you could tell his mind wandered off to something else. "There's something else you're not telling me", you claimed, taking a step back, "We never have secrets in front one another." "A boy... Gendry. Gendry... Baratheon", he started but you cut him off, "Lord Baratheon has a living son?" "No, Gendry is his nephew... but the bastard son of King Robert Baratheon. They're keeping him down in a cell", the look on his face was pure sadness. "Why ar- what are they planning on doing with him?", you wondered. To which he answered, "They wanted to take his blood to kill King Joffrey, King Robb Stark, and King Balon Greyjoy, which they did... and now... I think they're planning on killing him." He knew they wanted to kill him. "But he's family. He doesn't know anything about this here", you were waving your hands around in anger, "he's an innocent man, they cannot kill him." "They can and they will", he admitted. "You can't let this happen, father, you're better than them", you couldn't believe your ears that your father, who was once the kindest, most loving human being you had ever known, would let an innocent man get killed. "I suppose, I am not", with his head down, ashamed of himself about what he said to his daughter, his own flesh and blood, he left your chamber and made his way to the King's room.

It was late at night, everyone had gone to sleep, you had been giving better clothes earlier during the day, and were laying in your bed, unable to sleep. You had never met the boy who was being kept in a cell with the name of Gendry, yet you felt very deeply for him and those thoughts kept you awake - you made a decision. Carefully, you got out of the bed and made your way to the door. As silently as possible, you opened it, immediately looking for guards who would not let you get out. As there was no one in sight, you quickly ran across the hall, to the staircase that would lead you downstairs. The stones were cold and you regretted not putting on shoes. As you reached the basement, you noticed how dark it was and that a few halls weren't even lit up by torches. One was right next to you, so you took it from its holders on the wall and carried on walking towards where you thought to remember the cells to be.

After a couple of wrong turns but more right ones, you reached the cell blocks and noticed, not a single guard to be there. Discreetly, you inspected each and every cell, trying to find the King's nephew. Then, to your right, you found a cell a little bit further in the back, like yours used to be. You made your way down that hall and actually came to sight with a young man sitting on the ground, his back leaning on the steel cell door.

He heard your footsteps and turned around to look at you - he immediately sat up straight. You put the torcher in a free holder on the wall near the cell to give you at least a little bit of light. "How are you?", you started the conversation. "Great. Never been better", he sarcastically stated, making you chuckle, which made him grin. You sat down, leaning on the steel just like him, so you were able to look at him. "Who are you? I've never seen you down here", he wanted to know. "(Y/N) Seaworth. You're Gendry, right? Gendry Baratheon.", your answer made him turn around properly. "Words spread fast", he chuckled, "Seaworth like Ser Davon Seaworth?" "Yes, he is my father." "Kind man", he nodded, "he's been down here a couple of times, never mentioned you though." "He doesn't like to talk about his children much." "Children? You have siblings?" His question made your eyes water slightly, "Had." And guilt filled him, "I-I-I'm sorry, I didn-", but you cut him off kindly, "Don't worry, it's... fine." "May I ask how it happened?" he tried keeping up the conversation but didn't want to go too deep, since this was the first time he had ever met you. "When we fled our home, King Baratheon's men captured us and... put a sword through his heart as he tried to free himself", you told the story with your head down, not wanting to remember it too much. "Where was your home?" "Flea Bottom. A beautiful, litt-", " Sure, you were. I'm from Flea Bottom." You turned towards him with a smile, "I am, truly. I lived below the Street of Flour." His eyes looked directly into yours, "How far below?" "Well, to quote my father, The shit that poured from their privy pipes flowed down the side of Aegon's Hill along Tanner's Row and right in front of our front door on Gin Alley", you immitated your father, making you both chuckle, "it wasn't much that we had but it was enough for me to be happy." "You live in a castle with your father and a king, you're not happy?", Gendry was oblivious about your faith. "How can someone be happy when one is being told to marry Ramsay Snow to keep her and her father alive", you confessed. "I'm sorry", "Me too."

Your conversation went on for a bit longer than you had expected - you got on better than with any other person you had ever met. Later, or rather early in the morning, you decided to go back upstairs into your chambers to not get caught. Therefore, you stood up and made your way back. You were not able to see any guards but you also didn't exactly look for them as you were deep in thoughts about the young man you had just spent hours with. Suddenly, strong arms grabbed you, hold you tight and didn't let go. You started screaming and kicking while being dragged into the King's room you had been in once before. "What is all this screaming about?", the King asked. The guard set you down, "I found her down by the cells, she was talking to Gendry, my king." "So so, (Y/N)", his creepy voice made you look up from your sitting position on the floor, "I negotiate with your father and you go behind my back. I do not recall allowing you to go there." You stood up, straightening out your nightgown, "I'm truly sorry, King Baratheon", and bowed. "King Stannis, I ask you to forgive her for what she did", your father spoke from the other side of the room. You hadn't even noticed him, yet. "Well, Ser Seaworth, I don't know what to do now", Stannis Baratheon spoke. "I... I would ask you to let her go to the cells. Gendry should be allowed to talk to one his age... He's going to go soon anyway, I plead you to let them at least have this little amount of communication", your father tried negotiating more. The other older man started thinking about it. "I suppose we can give him at least this as his satisfaction. Well then, (Y/N), you will be allowed down to the cells. I do not want to find you anywhere else in this castle or your old cell will become your home again and the floor your bed." "Thank you, King Baratheon", with a head bow you left the room once again.

Back in your chamber, you had to catch your breath. You thought that he was going to kill you, there in this room and Gendry right after. A knock on the door made you jump. It opened and your father walked in. "It was very risky what you did", he stated sternly. "I know father, I'm sorry. I just... I want to help him." "Well", he took a deep breath, "you get to keep him at least a bit of company now. Do not misuse his act of kindness." "I won't, I promise."

A couple of days later

"Your father is a funny man", Gendry laughed. You had just told an amusing story from your childhood, making the both of you laugh out loud - something you had thought you would never be able to do again. Over the last few days, each night, you had come down to talk to the young man. He truly had become one of your closest friends and he was very thankful for you.

All of a sudden, Gendry got more serious, "I have sinned." "And I'm not a priest, so confessing to me will not free you", your comment made him chuckle. "It will free me because I feel like I have betrayed people and I have to tell somebody", he admitted. "Alright, what happened?" "I trusted her." You scrunched your eyebrows, "Who?" "The Red Woman", Gendry stated, making you turn around quickly, looking straight at him with your face right in front of the steel door. "Wh- what? I thought you didn't like fancy people." "I don't trust them." "If you mistrust fance people so much, why were you in such a hurry to trust her then?", you started getting slightly pissed off, not exactly sure why. He turned around to look at you, sitting in the same position as you - yet, he didn't dare to look at you... he couldn't. At first, he hesitated to answer, "... Never been with a woman. Never talked to a woman, really. Now you, of course, but before...", the young man took a deep breath, "And then she comes at you - big words, no clothes. What would any other man have done?" "That I don't know...", instead of being mad at him, you decided to lighten up the mood, "What I do know is, that she does know her way around a man's head, I'll give her that." Making you both chuckle. "Why are you telling me this?", you wanted to know since you had no relation to the story whatsoever. With that, his eyes drifted up, looking into yours deeply, "Because you're one of the most important people on my life right now - I don't have many." His comment made you blush slightly and your heart jump, a feeling you had never felt before but surely enjoyed when you were in his company. "I really enjoy our late night talks, you know", you said with a smile on your face. "Yeah", he chuckled, "I do too." After a couple of seconds in complete silence, he took the word again, "What would the perfect life look like for (Y/N) Seaworth?" You smiled, "Well, I would get out of this hell hole here, to marry the man that I choose to be my betrothed. I... I would live somewhere quiet. Somewhere in the forest maybe. Have a little cottage... a garden with loads of vegetables, fruits, and flowers that I've seeded myself. I would want to be happy." Gendry listened closely and carefully to every single one of your words - his eyes never drifted anywhere else apart from you. "How many children do you want?", his question got you thinking but also look at him with nothing but adoration. "You're quite nosy", the both of you smile at each other, "Three", you answered calmly, "maybe four", and with a shrug.

This was the last night you spend together divided by a cell wall.

You were quietly sleeping in your bed when the door to your chamber was ripped wide open, awakening you from your slumber. "(Y/N), love, you need to wake up, come on", you heard the voice of your father speaking. Slowly you rose your head from your pillow, "What? Father, what are you doing?" He was going around the room, looking for possibly important things to take with you. "You need to get up, you're going." "What?", you took the duvet off you and got up, putting on the shoes you had right next to the bed. "No questions, we need to be quick", he hastily hushed you out of the room. "I'm still in my nightgown." "It doesn't matter. You can get new clothes." Confused, you let yourself be dragged downstairs to the cells. Panic started to rise inside of you, and you tried to free yourself from your father's grip. "Wait! No! Where are you taking me?!", you shouted. Slightly too strong, he pulled you closer to him, coming to a stop, "Shh! You're going to wake everyone up. I'm bringing you away from here, you deserve better than this. Trust me." With a nod, you continued your walk to the cells, until you reached Gendry's. Your father loosened his grip on you and started opening the young man's cell. "What are you doing?", he asked, shocked at what was happening. "You're leaving", your father answered. "Is this some kind of trick?" "Yes, but not on you." As soon as he walked out of the cell, he saw you standing there, "What are you doing here?", he asked you, then turned to the older man, "What is she doing here?" "You're leaving together", he simply stated.

Outside, you got dragged towards the sea, through the sand, where a small boat was waiting for you. "Aim for that star. Don't stop", your father started explaining, handing you a bag, "There's bread and water. Go slow with it. If you finish it off, no matter how thirsty you get, don't drink seawater." Gendry interrupted him, "I know not to drink seawater", but the other man continued, looking at you both, "Row for a full day and night and you'll reach Rook's Rest. You'll want to stop there", he kept on pushing the boat into the water while Gendry put the things into it - you just kept on standing there, stunned by what was happening. After pushing your thoughts to the side, you focused on the two men in front of you again, "You ever been in a boat before?" "No." "You know how to swim?" "No." "Don't fall out. Go on", he pushed him slightly, then turned around to you, "go on, love." "No", you answered, "wh-what is going on? I can't just leave." "Yes, you can. This is your only chance. I promised you, I'd find another way, this is it. This is your only chance of being happy. I want you to be happy." "I am happy. Here, where you are too", you argued. "No, no, you are not. You deserve so much better than this", he took your face in his hands, "I love you, princess. And I trust you to be happy with him", he nodded towards Gendry, "you are going to be doing so many great things. But not here, I won't let this happen." He started pushing you towards the boat and you let him. "But about you? I can't leave you here, he will kill you!" Shortly before reaching the sea, you stopped. "I will find a way and one day... I will find you again", tears were running down his face, as well as down yours. You put your foreheads against each other, enjoying this last moment together. Then, you got in the boat. "Why are you doing this?", Gendry asked. "Because it's right, And because I'm a slow learner", he pushed the boat away, "when you get to Flea Bottom, have a bowl of brown for me! I trust you Gendry!" Those were the last words you heard from your father. You turned towards the young man you were from now on going to share your life with. "I will protect you. I will keep you safe, away from all the evil", he started, trying to calm you down, making your tears stop, while paddling, "I will find the prettiest cottage in the woods of Flea Bottom. With a garden where you can plant flowers, and vegetables, and fruits." You started calming down, smiling at his words. "I will marry you, one day", his words made your head shot up, looking at him, "Of course, I'm going to ask you properly. I will make you happy. I promise all of that." You smiled now at him, widely, "Thank you." His eyes drifted to look over the sea, "And who knows... possibly three kids", then he shrugged, "maybe four", making you smile even wider, even laugh. Standing up, you tried balancing your weight carefully, making him worry - he thought you were going to jump off the boat - you came closer to him and sat down right next to him, taking one of the paddles and started helping him getting further out into the ocean - further towards home.

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Uuuuuuh, I loved writing this SO MUCH! I hope you enjoyed reading it just as much :) <3

Thank you once more for the request! Sorry for any grammar and or spelling mistakes.

Hope you all have a great day/night, wherever you are! :) <3

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