#davos was the first character i saw.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

44 - Greenish White Bloodraven

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 16.2

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past character deaths, trauma related insecurities, alcohol consumption, discussions of pregnancy and miscarriages

Notes: So, what do we think the wider reaction everyone here will have to this news, come morning exactly? Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

Stannis Baratheon could not tell yet if he was offended or impressed. From the previous days when meeting him for the first time, to that night, already he knew opinions were going to be mixed. On one hand, he preferred not to treat men with any degree of special treatment, but unlike what many spoke of him as, Stannis did not feel a lack of emotion. In fact, it was that tie of not treating him any different against what his emotions were telling him of that was the conflict.

On another hand, the boy was stubborn. Quite stubborn, and rather stoic and quiet in comparison to the short time Stannis had encountered his brother. On the more difficult end, the more they spoke in those first days the easier it was for Stannis to understand what about him would have appealed to his first born daughter. As soon as this man of the Nights Watch had told him his name, he was struck by the appeal to emotion to give him the chance other men didn't deserve.

Perhaps however, it was exactly those emotions that was why Stannis was leaning towards impressed rather then insulted. The Lady Melisandre had the King beyond the Wall ready to be burned at the stake, due in part for his role of leadership for the wildings and their attack, another in part of if execution was the just sentence for him, then she demanded it for that of the Lord of Light.

The King beyond the Wall had only just begun to sound out in agony as the flames encased around him, when suddenly from a high point behind Stannis and the crowd did an arrow come. Landing directly into the wildling King's heart and ending his life before his sentence was truly carried out. Stannis had turned to look and see what happened, but only saw what should have made him angry, yet didn't.

Jon Snow had killed Mance Rayder quickly out of mercy, and in a very public display against the word of a King.

So as he sat in what became his office, the bastard boy standing across him the next day, part of Stannis pondered these very thoughts. Why wasn't he more insulted, offended, angry? He would not let it go without a word, but even Ser Davos watching could tell Stannis was not anywhere near the sort of reaction he would've had were it done by anyone else.

But he reprimanded Jon all the same. “I ordered Mance Rayder burnt at the stake. You prevented that order from being carried out. You showed mercy to Mance Rayder. A king's word is law. Perhaps you should ask Ser Davos how much mercy I show to lawbreakers.” He could see the boys eyes drifting to where only stubs of a once full hand now remained of it's fingers. Yet still, Stannis did not quite maintain the level of authority which he had spoken down to even the boys brother with. If anything, he was aware enough to know this was more of a parent lecturing a child. “Show too much kindness, people won't fear you. If they don't fear you, they don't follow you.”

Jon however, spoke with a calm respect. He stood in silence with his eyes drifted somewhat downward as Stannis lectured him, but it was not the same look now. More of a wide, bright eyed honesty that did not come with attitude nor judgment. Just a low, rough voice speaking the raw truth which Stannis found himself appreciating.

“With respect your grace, the free folk will never follow you no matter what you do. You're the man who burned their King alive.”

He did not appear someone who wanted power, but Stannis tested that intention all the same. “Who then? You?” Jon however, did not hesitate with confidence to tell him no. Explaining that they would only follow one of their own.

It was quiet for a moment, and the debate in his head stopped there. He could tell the boy was on edge, and was expecting a punishment further then such a conversation. Of course he would, he thought to himself. He was a bastard, used to being looked down on. And as it were, he could tell men such as Ser Alliser Thorne and Lord Janos Slynt despised him to the point Jon likely was seeing little light at the end of the path.

But Stannis also knew, the two of them had both been in the others proximity for a number of days now, and not once had the boy come close to bringing your name up. Which was interesting, considering you were the only reason Stannis had any preconceived notions about him in the first place. He knew there was a closeness between you and Jon once, which few were ever graced to have.

And he knew losing that closeness must hurt a great deal, and yet, Jon Snow did not once so far come close to saying your name or even indicating he knew anything about Stannis having a daughter besides Shireen. He was keeping something locked very tightly inside in front of Stannis and he couldn't help the manner in which he eased up.

Stannis wanted to know more about him, because he needed to understand what about a bastard could at all endear themselves to someone such as his firstborn daughter. And why the same bastard seemed to act as if you did not at all exist, now that you were gone.

So he switched tactics. Lightened the air up with something Stannis had an inkling was going to illicit a reaction more then the stoic, cold quiet Jon had thus far. Pulling out a raven scroll tucked underneath a pile of papers. “Do you know this wretched girl? Lyanna Mormont?”

Raising an eyebrow, Jon stepped forward as Stannis pushed it across the desk. “The Lord Commanders niece.”

“The daughter of the Lady of Bear Island, a child of ten. I asked to commit her house to my cause. That's her response.” And it got just the reaction he expected. Calm, more calm, and suddenly, what might have been the closest to a laugh if even only a smile, which he was going to pull from Jon that tried to peek out as he got to the crux of the answer.

Bear Island knows no King but the King in the North, whose name is Stark.

Only the slightest of raising of an eyebrow did Stannis lean forward, the ghost of a smirk which was not to be noticed by any. If perhaps only Ser Davos beside, who watched with a quiet intrigue of the growing dynamic as Stannis said, “That amuses you?”

In a second, did Jons tune change. The stone wall was put right back up and erased every scrap of personality Stannis was trying to slowly pull out of him. “I apologize, your Grace. Northerners can be a bit like the free folk. Loyal to their own.”

Setting it back down on the desk, Stannis commented that he knew all too well of that aspect of Jons people. Robert during his reign had gone on often and loudly about how difficult it was to control them, even with Lord Eddard Stark acting as Warden of the North. They were a stubborn people.

Just as Robb Stark had told Stannis they would be. And Stannis knew he was a fool for ignoring him.

Ser Davos begun going back and forth with Jon regarding that night's coming event. Lord Commander Jeor Mormont had been killed some years ago now, and a new one would need to be chosen now that the wildling threat had been taken care of. Stannis had said to Ser Davos directly before Jon had been summoned, that it was not passed a man like Thorne to hang Jon for what he sees, which is a traitor and a threat.

Stannis did not claim to care what caused the man to think Jon Snow was a traitor, any hearsay he heard wasn't his business but he did care of that being a threat. And Stannis did not come to regret refusing to aid in any way to Robb Stark, only to stand back and let his brother waste every potential in him by being taken out by an unpleasant man with a grudge.

He did not mince words telling Jon that. “Your bravery made him look weak. He'll punish you for it. I don't punish men for bravery. I reward them.”

The boy made it easy to figure out what you would have been drawn to him. He was blunt and genuine and without attitude when so many would have spoken to him at that point. No, Jon Snow seemed to approach the truth and the subsequent burdens with as much weight as as his long passed father did, as his late brother did, as Stannis did and most notably, the way he knew you did too. “I don't doubt it, your Grace. But I'm a brother of the Night's Watch. I've pledged them my life, my honour, my sword. I don't know what I have left to give you.”

But Stannis knew there was one thing. “You can give me the North.”

Doubt ran across Jons face in an instant. A doubt and an insecurity which any highborn wouldn't have reason to feel, but being a bastard instead, Jon did not hide from it. “I can't. Even if I wanted to, I'm a bastard. A Snow.”

But Stannis had thought, if this boy being a bastard did not matter to you, it should not effect the manner in which Stannis was growing to view him as. You admired a bastard, and Stannis did too, but law was law. He was a bastard boy with nothing to inherit and leaving on his own would be desertion. But, Stannis was a just man, and he knew the law decreed that there were ways in which to remedy both situations.

One which would spare Jon from being at the mercy of a Lord Commander with a hateful grudge looking to hang him, and one which would utilize what Stannis knew could be a powerful ally at his side. Both problems too, had the benefit of one singular, simple solution.

“Kneel before me. Lay your sword at my feet. Pledge me your service and you'll rise again as Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell.”

Much to their surprise however, Jon had been elected as the new Lord Commander and subsequently told him no.

Stannis's life made even less sense the more the year progressed. Receiving word that Balon Greyjoy was dead, the Ironborn had organized the first Kingsmoot in centuries and voted for their new King to rule the Salt Throne. Who had begun to pull the Ironborn out of the North, leaving Stannis to start moving along to gauge what was left remaining. He had thought however, of all men, they had elected Euron Greyjoy.

During the Greyjoy rebellion, by the time Stannis was able to sail to the other side of the country, he had encountered Euron and Victarion Greyjoy as they burned Lord Tywin's ships at Lannisport.

Unlucky for Euron and his brother, who commanded the other half of the Greyjoy fleet, they were not the only men who lived and breathed the open waters. House Baratheon was built upon being surrounded by water since the start of their house's existence. Stannis was the sailor of his family, even moreso then his father. In times of war, Robert gave Stannis full command to do what needed to be done and it took only two months to destroy the Greyjoy fleet.

He held the rest of them off as Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon lay siege to Pyke. Only after two of Balon's sons had died, did he surrender. Handing his last remaining son to Ned Stark to take as prisoner and for the rest of that family to lick it's wounds as Stannis could finally return home to what was now, his two daughters. He had recalled hoping that Selyse's brother Alester had heeded his advice, and allowed you the chance to rule Dragonstone in his stead, with guidance from what stayed there of his council as necessary.

No doubt Selyse was still recovering, she had been as unwell this pregnancy as she was the entire time she was with you. Perhaps he should have known all four of those others wouldn't have come to term, the only two pregnancies which produced a living child she had been sick from minute one. Meaning Stannis sailed home already with plans in place on how to tackle that. You'd need to be focused on your lessons once more, and that would mean taking time away from you with Shireen.

He never said a word of it, but one of the few times Stannis felt something grow in his heart was the early morning his ship appeared in view of Dragonstone. Quickly did Ser Axell call to him, pointing out a figure high up looking. Or two figures. The one time Stannis had smiled so easily in front of his men, was the sight of his twelve year old daughter, with his three month old newborn daughter in your arms helping her wave them home.

By the time Shireen's greyscale had been cured, Stannis knew he had an unspoken reason as to why he was insistent on bringing you with him to Kings Landing. The two Stark boys had been a tedious influence on your wildness, and previously Selyse had been fed up with your growing attitude. He knew bringing you with him to the capitol would help in that regard. But he knew he couldn't bring Selyse and Shireen, first he needed his wife and her eldest brother Alester to serve the island for him and he was not cruel enough to think he had the right to separate Selyse from the first child she was able to have that lived in over twelve years.

But he could bring you. You were so much like him in some of the worst ways, and the older you got the clearer it was that you somehow inherited too, the worst self destructive tenancies of Robert. It was a difficult relationship his whole life with you, but he loved you. And if he could have only one thing in that rats nest of a capitol, he wanted it to be you.

It was why when your fourteenth nameday was approaching and you still had not bloomed, he gave explicit instructions to you not to say a word to anyone when it happened. To come to him and only him, but as it turned out, a handmaiden saw it first. He knew why Cersei insisted you took on handmaidens, she wanted a spy to watch over the only girl in the capitol she could dote on and try to groom you for her plans.

So he did what he had avoided doing for almost two years, sending you away again. He wrote to Lord Stark telling him to expect your arrival, and ordered Allard to ensure you left on the first ship the next morning. You'd be as far from her reach as possible with the Starks, and he refused to let you return until he was confident he had dismantled every one of Cersei's schemes involving you.

But two years with the Starks, and two years growing into someone close to a woman, well, you never really came back the way you used to be. You felt dragged back by force out of nowhere and you had blossomed into a girl of sixteen by the time he saw you again and now all those worse parts of himself and Robert clashed tenfold between you both.

It never got better. Only worse. Then he did what he once sent you away to avoid Cersei doing. He used you as a pawn for what was Stannis's own political movements, by marrying you off for his own strategic advantage. It was karma really, he did to you what he sent you away to avoid Cersei doing to you, and in return you sided against him in a war. You were declared a Queen at your independent Northern King and husbands side.

Then he refused to make peace. Then he lost at the Blackwater. Then he lost you, he lost the son in law he never gave a single chance, and he lost the grandson Stannis never knew he was to have.

Only to meet Robb Starks last living brother, a man who Stannis was almost certain was in love with you. Only to then separate once more not knowing if he'd ever find reason to convince Jon Snow he was worth more in this fight then a frozen castle at the edge of the world. Then they met at Deepwood Motte, a wildling army at Jon's back where he insisted they speak inside in private.

The news never stopped being out of control. According to Jon, you were dead, and then alive, you were a prisoner of the Boltons the entire time, and now the boy, Ramsay Bolton was preparing to start a war to get you back. Only, it got stranger and stranger what Jon told of him until it all led to what Stannis quickly caught onto was all but a thinly veiled threat when the subject came up, that you had been considered a traitor to Stannis before your death.

“My own brothers stabbed me seven times in the chest and I bled to death trying to convince men to help me to rescue her. The only reason I'm standing here, is because she brought me back. Not any god or priestess or ceremony, just her. If Ramsay is willing to start a war to get her back after spending a year torturing her, try to think what I'd to protect her against a father still trying to call her a traitor.”

Jon Snow had gone from refusing to even mention you out of a strangling grief he wished to internalize, to standing before a King with a not so subtle threat that he'd protect you against more then just the Boltons if Stannis tried to push it. He had gotten the image all wrong when he tried to imagine your place back within life, back in Stannis and Jon's lives. He was terribly wrong about it all.

Only, he wasn't as he now realized. He was right about almost all of it.

The ironic thing was, that faced with the reality of the imagined fantasy Stannis wondered up in the days in Castle Black, it was clear which one between you and Jon was equipped to handle him without any hesitations. Jon had stood before the sitting King with nerves and a raw honesty.

This time though, you sat across from him to position yourself as an equal, and the silence in the room was not wrought with nerves or tension. Just a stubbornness and a complete lack of intimidation.

Green eyes on green eyes unblinking in their stare against one another as you sat down before him and still you and your father sat in a silence. Whatever arguments the man was ready to put forth, you knew you were equally as ready to knock them all down.

Minutes passed before either of you broke, and it was your father who did it first. “I don't imagine your mother was thrilled over the matter.”

A sigh may have left your mouth were you less controlled in your nerves of said moment. “Her daughter went from a Baratheon to a Stark to a Snow. I didn't expect her nor you to be pleased by it.”

Any other man and there may have been blatant judgment in their tone, but in your father it was even and dry only caring of getting to the route of the topic at hand. “Neither of you presumed to think it would be appropriate for the man to gain blessing from the bride's father before a betrothal is made.”

You didn't blink, nor did Stannis. He did not jump right to his point without ensuring you understood where he was going to be coming at it from in root, but you didn't really feel the patience for it right now. It wasn't meant as a game but it felt one regardless. Your tone was if possible, even more flat and unwavering dry as his. “Previously, you had assumed Jon and I were sharing a bed so to speak. It seems a step backwards to care about asking permission for marriage before caring about pre marital affairs.”

Both of you were far too stubborn for this. “Two moons ago you married, we can cross out being with child as the reason for how rushed you went into this.”

A part of you hesitated, there was no shame in the truth anymore and certainly not with your father in comparison to the sort of affairs both his own brothers engaged in. But would it change his view of Jon you wondered. Then again, you could also find it in you to argue that if this changed his opinion now of all times, he must not have respected him as much as he claims. So you were honest. “Jon and I have shared romantic feelings since I was fifteen. We've known each other since I was eight. I think it is safe to say, he and I have done the opposite of rush into this.”

He didn't look as if this was new information, which was the strange part. You knew the only one who had an inkling was Shireen, but you had known for a fact she kept all of it to herself since she had never even confronted you of such subjects in that manner. How your father knew, you couldn't figure out.

Calm as ever, you both looked at one another, sat on either side of the desk in quiet as the muffled sounds of work and yelling filtered in through the stone walls against the crackling fire. “He taught you how to use a sword.” Not a question, and thus you gave one nod of a yes before he continued. A curiosity filtering in his gaze. “Selyse wasn't happy about that either, when you returned home that year.”

“It might be more productive by now to make a list of things I've done that have made either of you happy compared to not. If we name all the things about my life you disapprove of we may be sitting here quite a long time.” Silent for a moment you forced the question out. “What is your point here, father? Is it that I married without your expressed permission or is it because I married a bastard?”

“Something's changed since the last we spoke.”

Silence sat between you both more, “Has it?”

He couldn't have known, you know he didn't know. You were keeping it a secret from most everyone for a reason, including why he managed to escape alive in the first place. In truth, you didn't want to sit here and talk about Jon. You wanted to sit here and ask what on earth was wrong in your father's head when he decided he was going to let the red woman murder his own nephew, the only one he had left for all he knew.

You wanted to know why when there were so little of Baratheon blood left, were you all self destructing towards oblivion.

Your father murdered his brother, and tried to murder his nephew and you murdered your sister. You could sweeten that night with honey all you wanted, but at the end of the day, your father and you both killed your own blood. Maybe you wanted something from him which he couldn't provide. The answer of why this family was doomed to destroy each other.

Your father kept his calm in the face of a silent whirlwind behind your stoic gaze. “The last we were in Kings Landing, I met a number of Robert's bastards. Didn't care for any of them. Half Robert, half whatever tavern slut he bedded on a drunken night. The only nephew I had known for some time was Joffery, and not yet realizing the truth of his birth I saw no interest in getting to know any of Roberts other children. They weren't trueborn, and nieces and nephews or not, if Robert was not going to recognize them, why should I?”

Was it hypocritical you thought? The degree to which maybe you should rip the necklace from your person off and give it right back to the man who gave it to you, the one who didn't know what it was like to push dagger into the back of her skull. Mercy or not, why should you be angry about what Stannis had almost done to Gendry when you had done it yourself to your own little sister, to Shireen.

But it slipped out in an anger regardless. “Because they have your blood in their veins, same as I.”

You had seen her state, she had no life waiting even if she would ever awake without agonizing pain shocking her back to the darkness. It was different you told yourself, so why did this not feel different?

It was easier when you learned about Renly. You were still a person then, a human made whole in life and not a shell of what used to be with your sisters blood on your hands. This time, you learned about Gendry after you had already committed kinslaying exactly as your father did. You did not have the right to feel angry at him, when you did it yourself. You and your father were no better then the other.

If Stannis had a point he was making, he was tying it together from various starting points of stories he assumed were related together. “Your mother was not happy when I married you to a Northerner, but at least he was a highborn. Heir to Winterfell. Happy or not Robb Stark was an appropriate suitor for my daughter. Had in those days you come to me and told me you married a bastard without my permission, I'd have dragged you back to Dragonstone with me and never let you out of my sight for some time.”

Your eyes drifted to the side ever so slightly. Dramatic, but precisely what you would have expected in such years. Only, the connecting bonds your father weaved together, you hadn't expected. “So when I offered to make Jon the Lord of Winterfell, I offered to make him a Stark to do so. He was only a bastard, and law is law so I offered to declare him the name of his fathers house and seat in exchange for his fealty. He turned me down, and do you know what it was I had thought that day? What came to mind when he told me no?”

Shaking your head slightly, there wasn't a judgment in his gaze, but something a little more weighted with an emotion you were struggling to identify on Stannis, at least when it was directed towards you it was a struggle.

What wasn't expected, was the real answer. “I had wondered, that if in another life where you had lived, if you were still alive, would that have changed his mind. If I had offered to make him a Stark, offered to make him Lord of Winterfell, would he have accepted my offer, if you were alive to offer him as well.”

Brows narrowing, your head tilted in a slight ask of a confused whisper. “What does that mean?”

“Had you been alive, or more accurately, had any of us known you were alive, I would have given you to him as a wife in addition to everything else. Give the boy one more thing he never had, a highborn girl he had been in love with.” He had known, in whatever manner he deduced, your fathers time with Jon directed him to the very conclusion Jon had hidden from all too many. “Naming him a Stark wouldn't have changed the boy being born a bastard, and if I was willing to marry you to him then, I'm not sure how much else could convince you that is not the issue now.”

Nails dug into the leather of the other glove in your lap, not sharp enough to feel much of the pressure against your skin under. Still, nothing was said from you. “I am insulted this was all done without my knowledge or consent, but that does not mean I disapprove of the marriage or of him. You chose all on your own to let your surname become Snow, and your children will hold that name as well. If I cannot change that, I will not waste my energy being unhappy over it.”

Inhaling deeply, you had to convince yourself to turn and look back at him mid way through your own sentence. “What is this then? A lecture to tell me how disappointed you are?”

The immediate falling expression into something flat on your face at the ease in which your father looked at you without blinking and said, “It is like you said, if we were to sit down and discuss everytime I have been disappointed with something you've done, we'd have spent much more time in my office over the years going over it every other day.”

It was difficult to tell when he was being hyperbolic to amuse himself or to find a small rise out of you, but the stiff quiet between you both wasn't awkward as it was a bit of a distraction from the previous tension going unsaid. A hum in your throat had you peeling your eyes away with a smirk only he could've spotted without question. “And you wonder why you weren't invited. Now, can we move to the matters at hand or shall we sit here a little while longer and pretend I'm getting a stern talking too?”

Still though, it was a strange thought which remained in your head for the moments of quiet you were left alone in. Your father was right in a manner of speaking, everything he offered in their own way came to reality. Only without his help was the caveat for some, and titles were the difference in others.

The memory of seven fatal wounds forever carved into Jons chest. A death which led to every prediction of your father to come to fruition, but for as far as he has come, part of you wished he had taken the offer when he had the chance. Returning to life didn't make it any better that he died trying to find you in the first place.

He had done much to move on from it, move you both on from thinking of it, but it was right there every time you saw them. The memory unable to be shaken of walking down the steps of the Ice Cells for the very first time that morning as everything which had the chance to finding something positive in your life died all over again. It wouldn't have changed that he was Robbs heir, it wouldn't have changed how you felt about him, it wouldn't have changed that you would follow him no matter where he was to lead you.

It would've meant he lived, and for perhaps the first time, you hated how dedicated the Starks were to doing the right thing no matter the cost to themselves. Jon himself had told you he didn't regret trying to leave to find you, but he should.

“I have four thousand I can station between four castles right away, and I have another ten trapped in the Stormlands by the Golden Company.”

Were you anyone else, the guilt may have been brought out on your face right away but as it was, neither you nor Jon gave anything in expression away. Nor even shifted a glance to one another. A lie quick forming in your mind to jump to Jon's defence before anything of what he and you had done would be given away. This would be the worst time for that as such.

As it was, Jon stood confident as ever. It was clear his time in the Nights Watch had left an impact on him which had not gone away. Before Edd arrived, he looked the most comfortable walking even the ruins of the Nightfort, and still looked just as at home in these walls as he did at Castle Black. The only thing any different from your last time spent at the Wall, was there was slightly more grey and browns mixed with the ever present black on him, and the once wild curls now tamed pulled back.

Hand clenching in on itself, you forced your eyes back to the table you sat at, on one side of it Jon was stood braced with his palms against it and Stannis stood at the other in a similar position. For once, you had said nothing in argument as Jon had insensitively moved to almost push you back in the seat when you made to stand with them. Nothing said further when he seemed all but shove food in front of you with a pointing gesture to make you eat.

Ripping off small bits at a time, thankful that despite the almost amusing pushiness, Jon seemed to sense lately exactly what you needed, when you needed it. The past week in particular he was very keen on picking up any changes in your mood, behaviour, anything. You couldn't yet tell if Ghost, who currently was sat dutifully by the back of the room with keen watchful eyes, was doing the same on his own or picking up the habit influenced by Jon.

Though, Ghost did bring a dead fox all the way in from the wolfswood about a fortnight ago, and found you specifically to gift it to. Your two White Wolves both odd creatures, they were.

Jon's voice rumbled somewhat to the side of you, “I can send a raven to Storm's End. Find out if Aegon would be willing to negotiate letting your men leave.”

The quiet sat on your fathers face and you already knew the precise question which would come out of his mouth. “And why would the boy be willing to do so when he previously refused to cooperate?”

You were proud however, the ease in which Jon had the answer without finding his way to the lie which sat underneath the how. “Aegon knows eventually his aunt will make her move to Westeros, and he knows it will turn into the two of them against each other. We managed to negotiate a truce with him, he won't try and force the North to bend the knee or fight in his war and in exchange the North won't choose a side. If he and his aunt go to war, he agreed to show us peace if we give him neutrality.”

And the follow up you had seen coming, “How did you manage to come to that agreement?”

Quick and flat, you let it slide out as if natural in the moment statement meant as a jest towards your father, but Jon only briefly glanced to you with a wider look in his eyes at how easily you covered up to Stannis of all people, especially when you knew the lie was truly yours. “Some Kings are more willing to negotiate peace treaties with each other then you.”

Once more however, it was striking in the room between primarily Jon and Theon the degree to which only a few years apart from you and so much context of your life was forever missing to them. Ser Davos looked down with an amused glint in his eye covering a smirk, and your father only matched the flat look in your eye as an answer. “Very well then.” Looking back to Jon he was quick to the point. “Send word to him as soon as possible, the sooner I can get my men to begin work on the castles here the better prepared we can be.”

You could tell as the room filtered out, Jon was silent in his stare to grab your attention but it had missed you entirely as Theon came to speak beside you. “You can't avoid them forever, you know.”

Glancing to the side before flickering your gaze back to the cold outside, you held back something of a sigh. “I can when we leave and they stay here. We allowed them here to fight this fight, not preach things to me I had spent years avoiding being apart of.”

Theon could tell you were being stubborn, but you on the other hand knew that he wouldn't push the issue in the same manner others may. “Should have hanged them both before ever letting them get anywhere near Winterfell.” You didn't look with a glare that time but Theon felt it no doubt, following himself up with a more collected tone. “You can frame it however you like, but they were still part of that plan to kill you.”

Shortness on your tone, you almost interrupted him. Cutting through whatever words may have come next the moment you could sense the end of his breath. “Kidnap. Murder is a far charge away from that of kidnapping. And you and I both know now they did not plan it. Hanging them wouldn't change that someone else planned all of that.”

He was quiet, and you knew he felt as agitated as Jon would everytime you came up with excuses for what Beric and Thoros had been apart of. “Your father know about it?” The answer of no came so quickly it almost brought more aggravation from his tone you didn't need to look to know was there. “If they aren't guilty, why not tell him about it?”

“There is little Stannis Baratheon appreciates more then executing justice, but this didn't happen in his lands. It isn't his business. We are handling the rest, he doesn't need to be told everything which happens in my life.” You felt the cold wind stinging across your cheeks, but in a way you almost felt relieved by the sensation.

A bitter awakening which kept you on your toes instead of the comfortable many wanted for you now.

“Don't know much about him. Spent some twenty years at Castle Black before being made Lord Commander. Didn't last long after that, and if I don't know more means he probably wasn't very good at it.” Always one to appreciate the manner in which Edd got right to the point. Your arms crossed your chest, elbow propped up onto one to let your nails tap at your lip in thought as you listened.

He also thought little of your questions or their abrupt nature thankfully. “What happened to him exactly?” Also a stroke of luck he either did not pick up on your unusual curiosity or did not see fit to particularly care in prying about why.

Part of him looked exhausted, though you were beginning to feel as if all of you lived in such a state these days. His voice sounded distant and somewhat muttering as he clearly tried to recall the exact details he may have once knew. With how much he read you knew Sam might have been a better starting off point, but even if you could catch him alone, he'd mention the questions to Jon the moment they saw the other next. Which was the point you were trying to avoid, certain things simply didn't need to be added atop his shoulders despite what he insisted. He wouldn't let you take some of the burdens from his shoulders to share so you weren't going to add to them.

“Went ranging north of the Wall, disappeared, died. I assume. Hard to say that for sure anymore.” Your expression fell to a tie between somewhat dismayed and understanding, but regardless Edd caught the sense you were going to make him elaborate first. “Men disappear out there all the time, anything could have happened.”

Pacing along the length of the room, you shook your head more to yourself. “Any ranger perhaps, but I find it hard to believe the Lord Commander could disappear out there and no one would come back with anything to say about it.”

“They would if no one was there to come back with him.” Tormunds voice bounced off of the walls and against the wood towards your ears but your face scrunched slightly in a confusion. Turning to look at him there was something narrowed in his gaze towards you. “Sometimes crows leave all alone and don't come back, Mance didn't.”

It was Edd's turn to look back, standing a bit straighter with a tilt of his head towards him. “Mance Rayder wasn't Lord Commander, and he was born out there. This guy wasn't. Can't imagine many highborns willingly leaving everyone behind to live out in the snow.” This time, it was your eyes narrowing in a bit of a surprised curiosity. But it had to wait for now.

“Maybe he was looking for something.” As soon as you had asked for what, Tormund once more looked as if now he was the one withholding information on purpose. He clearly knew enough to give you small details but something else was being kept in his head despite you having the clear indication he knew more then he was willing to divulge. “Freedom? A Woman? Who knows.”

Edd piping up with a doubt in an amused tinge hinted at in his voice. “Man was in his sixties. Can't imagine he only found the urge by then to start sticking his dick into something after twenty years.”

“Be surprised what old men want when they go grey. I've seen plenty of grandpa's get new energy like their boys finding out they can play their cocks all over again.” Oh you were not the correct person to be a participant of this discussion. Holding a hand to your forehead as both men went back and forth until you found your limit of dick discussions for a lifetime.

Holding a hand out almost in a pleading for whatever they were saying to stop, you interrupted them with what was clearly an embarrassed grimace on your face. “I believe we have gotten far off the discussion, gentlemen.”

Nodding towards you, both men now smirked at one another in a knowing joke you were not in on. “You'd think being married to a crow she'd know all about that.”

Now you didn't even know what they were talking about anymore at all. Edd not helping as he indulged whatever joke Tormund was making at your expense. “Guess not. Suppose we know why they still don't have any little ones yet.”

Your face scrunched in a disapproval and yet almost an innocent bewilderment how you even got onto whatever this topic was. “I don't even have a clue what you two are going on about anymore.”

Whatever the smirk between Edd and Tormund meant, it had you rolling your eyes in an instant. Muttering as you made your way to leave the room to their boyish mockings on their own. “Many thanks for the assistance.”

Only, instead of finding the door to the cold outside did a large hand grab at your forearm and without any effort tug you backwards. Body landing somewhat in a stumble only to be cushioned by the now very close proximity of Tormund. Brows narrowed as he leaned down to look at you with a quiet but more serious tone for your hearing only. “If you're not going to stop snooping, may as well ask the only one here whose been out there his whole life.”

Raising an eyebrow, you found he almost matched your expression in a challenge. “I did ask you, and you claimed to not know anything.”

“Did I, now?”

Both pairs of eyes could've been mistaken for glaring had it not been a staring competition between you and Tormund of all people. Though you supposed to Edd it looked rather as such. Your voice lowered for only him to hear with a roughness held back in frustration. “I'm not paying games, Tormund. If you know something tell me, if not, let go of me.”

The last man to be intimidated by you, he didn't take the bait whatsoever. The smirk was almost infuriating however. “Starting to sound like the pretty crow needs another reminder how to loosen up.”

Only silence as your eyes narrowed just slightly more, only this time the jest behind it was far clearer to him then Edd now confused as anything. “If you weren't twice my size I'd have hit you by now.”

Passing a beat between you, instead he once more used his stature to turn you in place, tugging you more to his side before shoving you to the door as your previous goal was. Tormund this time following suit as he rumbled just behind you, “You know all the right things to say.”

In the cold air of the Nightfort, a great laugh left him as you sighed almost so deeply one would think it came from the mouth of a disappointed parent. Under your breath you whispered in an exasperation, “Seven hells, I knew you weren't done letting this go.”

Waiting until the moment you passed him by, did Ghost stand up and dutifully follow wherever the path was which Tormund was directing you. Unbeknownst to you as he trailed along, the red behind the direwolf's eyes weren't bright and attentive but almost darker and tense behind them. Tormund wasn't the only one not letting that go.

By the time the name Brynden Rivers came from your mouth, Tormund had told you he's never heard of him. Your eyes rolled with a glare up to him. “I know you haven't heard of him, that's why I didn't originally ask you that.”

The Nightfort made sense only in terms of when the Nights Watch was regarded with respect and given the manpower and resources to hold it. By the time it was abandoned it then no more made sense to keep it. You had walked for what felt like ten minutes and still found yourself only now approaching the other side of the courtyard. Not even five hundred men could maintain this place for such a long period of time, let alone the dwindled numbers you could presume had been it's final count.

“So what did you see exactly.”

Twice now you had seen it, in one dream then once more not long ago. Both times not alone but a crow with three eyes beside it, as if they stood one in the same now. It had pricked at your mind that first dream, the second you returned to the waking world that you knew the image in words you hadn't had at the forefront of your memory. It was why you scrambled to search the texts for it.

It had been more then only a red raven, it was a raven with feathers looking as if it was utterly coated and dripping in blood. Two eyes only but red blood dripping from it, but the crow with three was black as any normal bird. That one you had seen more then twice, but you had even less of an idea what it was meant to symbolize.

Tormund had clearly been thinking on it for a while, responding to such description easily. “Never seen or heard a raven like that. You said it was beside this crow?” A nod from you with no other input you let him stew on whatever was coming together in his head. “No one's seen a three eyed crow before, either but north of the Wall I know plenty who've talked about it. Say it's some omen of black magic.”

No, you thought, you'd seen black magic. It was in blood and fire and horrible death. This was not the same at all. Leaning now against a stone wall, the only destination he had intended was privacy. Ghost circling around to near a corner where his eyes could ensure focus from every oncoming angle before turning his head to watch you intently. Tormund stood somewhat a few feet in front of you, most of the jesting act now dropped as he prodded your mind for detail.

“Is there any difference in seeing it with your own eyes or seeing it in a dream?”

Tormund however had a strange answer. “The only place anyone's seen a three eyed crow is in a dream. Long time ago, my people would talk about it but no one's ever lived long enough to find it.” A question of why on your lips and once more you felt lost. “Never met anyone whose survived that far north, or at least survived long enough to come back. Last one to try said was about fifty years ago.”

Nothing was said and yet it dawned in your mind. Lips parting a bit as you looked down to the snow across the ground. Looking up hoping it would transform into a vision you could make sense of, but only stone and more snow in such a place as you already were. “This last one wouldn't have happened to be a man of the Nights Watch would it?”

A single nod and you despised how every answer made less sense to the mysteries wrapping around your mind. “Lord Bloodraven. That was the other title he went by. That's what I was discussing with Edd, the Lord Commander around fifty years ago disappeared ranging north of the wall, and before that most remember him as Lord Bloodraven.”

Answers should feel relieving, not that of a heavy weight adding to the strain in your head begging to turn into a pounding agony. “So, some old Lord Commanders coming to you in a dream with a three eyed crow. Maybe he's trying to tell you the answers you're looking for are out there.”

Just as Tormunds head gestured to where the Wall stood high someway beside you both, did a third voice join the pair of you. Only this one was both loud and yet a deep rasping with little patience in the short tone attached to it. “Then she won't find them.”

As the larger one turned, your head rose with a wider look bright in them as Jon stood with his posture tense and rigid a few feet from you. Leathers across him yet even without anything warmer you somehow felt as if you still were colder in the winter air then he was. A glance with Tormund, Jons eyes harsh and just as intense as the air around him he nodded behind him. “I want a moment with her.”

Neither you nor Jon moved until the small alcove you stood in was now alone save for three, one of which came up to Jons side more energetic then before. A gloved hand ran over the side of Ghosts face as Jon muttered something low and affectionate in tone before both came over to you. Still leaning against a stone wall, your hands wrung together as if nerves sat within you.

Perhaps they did, but you couldn't quite figure out what was wrong. Or, that kept being the problem wasn't it? “How did you know I was over here?” Jon only flickering his eyes pointedly to Ghost before your lips parted in a curiosity. “Do you do that often?”

Hardly what you could call a shrug came from him, Jon closing the distance more and as soon as he stepped with an arms reach you felt his warmth already radiate into your skin. “Only when I'm worried about you.”

Tensity in the air seemed both out of existence from him and heavyset within your blood. A gloved hand reached out as he invaded the remainder of your personal space along your arm, his head leaned down a slight bit to meet closer to your eyes. But you hardly met his, glancing away prompting Jon to try and follow to keep up. “You don't need to be. I'm staying in the castle walls still.”

Your voice was a mumble, but you could tell the meekness seeped through, wishing you could curl in on yourself as his hand ran down your upper arm. “What do you-” Your eyes flickered up to meet his and the brightness in yours painted an insecure image that you knew looked bad on you. Jons voice dropped to what felt like pity, “Darling,”

His hand tried to reach up, gently brush your cheek and jaw to turn you to look at him but you almost flinched from the touch. A shake of your head as you mumbled, eyes casting downward to the black across his torso instead. “Ever since Moat Cailin..” Trailing off you wished you sounded more put together then your wavering tone did. “I know you don't trust me but I still don't understand. Not trusting me is one thing, but it's as if you don't even want me doing anything.”

The same gloved hand ran through the loose strands of your hair as Jon muttered your name low, but you avoided his gaze still further when he tried to make you look at him again. His breath hot as if brushed across your skin and if he was any closer you'd be able to feel his curls were they loose, brushing against you as well. “That's not what this is.”

Down further your eyes found instead of up, you could now see the pommel of Longclaw sat against his side. Your hand still wrung together in front of you. “I try to help you, you make me stop. I try looking into things about whats coming for us and you tell me not to. I try and figure out what's happening with these dreams and visions and you get angry with me when I explain I'm doing it to help you.” He was silent, but his hand still ran through the strands.

Jon sighed deeply, trying again to no avail to get you to look up at him, and even the tender rasp of your name didn't do the trick. His other hand found your hip as you continued to not reach out to him the same way. “I trust you more then anyone else-”

Shaking your head, you felt your limbs tense at the feeling in your throat. Don't do this now you thought, don't get emotional now of all times. If it was evident as you spoke, you weren't looking enough at Jons reaction to know if he caught it or not. “You don't. I know that, that I've ruined that. But it's as if you don't want my help at all. I don't even know why you let me come if you didn't want me here-”

Cupping your cheek properly Jon leaned in to make you face him, but your eyes still couldn't handle whatever was in those beautiful greys. “If could only have one person with me anywhere, it would always be you, no matter what. Where is this coming from?”

Did you even hear him? You didn't know, the noise in your head was loud and too nonsensical to make out genuine words when he was so close to you. He was too warm it wasn't fair. “Everything I try to do to help you, and you get angry with me for it. If you don't trust me to help you, Jon, I'd rather you be honest and say it because everything about these past few weeks says you'd trust nearly anyone before me. And I get it, I do, I ruined all of it but..”

You shook your head in the pause of your words, Jon now letting his other hand dance along your jaw trying to tilt you back to him but the watering sting behind your eyes only got worse.

“You won't let me do anything to try, I don't even know when I have any chances to gain your trust again because you keep telling me to stop.” He muttered your name but the red in your stinging eyes warmed part of your face and throat and you despised how pathetic it was you were upset over nothing again. You didn't have the right to be upset Jon didn't trust you.

An attempt to lean in had you turn your face away from his, not in malice or the sorts, but heavy on an insecurity that used to sit on the man before you, not you before him. “I trust you, I want you here by my side, but it isn't as simple as that right now-”

“Then tell me how to fix it.” A second or two did you meet Jons desperate gaze but you looked away again as the upset wavered with frustration. “Either I'm a terrible Queen, or I'm a terrible wife, but I don't know how to fix it if you won't let me.” In the mere moments it took Jon to reign in the shock forming across at the rawness in your words did you fill it with whatever noise sounded off louder in your head. “I'm scrambling to find any scrap of something to help you but maybe I'm making it worse, maybe you don't want me to help and I'm too blind to realize it.”

Did Jon say your name? You weren't sure, the noise in your head now blended with the racing of your heart and not at all did you have the awareness to know any tears had fallen down your cheeks. You still refused to look at him. “I'm constantly scared I'm ruining things in your life, and- fuck.” Cutting yourself off something more panicked waved through you as the noise in your head turned clearer so too voices you might have recognized.

If Jon did or said anything you missed it, pulling away from his touch as you felt the tears and the impending humiliation. Wrapping what was once his fur cloak around you more, you shook your head, tears freezing in the cold air. “I thought doing this in private was the better choice, since I was getting in your way but now I don't even know what to do at all. Somethings been wrong between us and I don't understand why.”

His hands reached your forearms from behind, running down them as Jons warmth enveloped your back as you spoke. “In the crypt you said that maybe you didn't know me anymore, but really I don't know you. You came back different, you became a different person in the time we were apart and all I did when I came back was get worse. Maybe I don't know you anymore and I'm only just catching onto that.”

The second Jon tried to comfort you, breath warm at the side of your head as he rasped your name. A gloved hand trying to dance along your person to reach your scar but you pulled away again, that new rough wave inside you upset as ever before. You felt a mess as he followed you with the same low tones hoping to reach your ear. “You've got it wrong, I'm trying to protect you.”

But the only way you seemed to think Jon decided to do that was to push you away. You barley stood at his side when discussing things that mattered anymore, he hardly gave you anything to do to help him and got upset when you did like you did now, and try to figure things out, out of his way. “You told me if I couldn't lead, you still wanted me to stand by you. But now all you do is tell me to stop, tell others to stop helping me when I'm trying to do things for you. I don't think there's been a single day for weeks you haven't looked at me like you hate that I'm in the way.”

Jons voice rose a bit as it was stern, but you tried to walk away from him and it raised even more so he could keep up. But all you heard was anger, your rational mind didn't know what else it could be indicating. “You're not in the way and nobody, including me thinks that you are. Ever since that night on the ship it's like you're convinced I want to get rid of you.”

Turning towards him, it took him back both the raise in your own voice but also how it did not match the more devastated look in your eyes. “Ever since that night you look at me like I've lost my mind, Jon. And the moment I try and figure out what's happening to me you make me stop. All I want to do is be someone you can be proud is at your side but maybe I'm too stupid to realize that all I'm good for really is warming your bed at night like a whore.”

Jons brows narrowed, lips parting slightly as he looked at you. Something darker sat behind his eyes, head turned to the side just a bit as if figuring something out as he tried to close the gap you created between you. It wasn't a judgment on his part you said it with, but the words themselves struck something in Jon that put him on a cliff's edge which you yourself, could not see was there. Opening his mouth to speak, he thought better of whatever the words were before throwing out a demand of your name. “Look at me.”

Whatever Jon saw when you did, it was something he didn't like but you couldn't stand here and find out, not with people around not when you were in a place that was nowhere near home to hide or find any comfort in. You would rather have turned around, been in Winterfell and sought comfort in your bed, but no- the bed was Jons. Not yours.

“My lovely bride, you wouldn’t have happened to play around with other men while you were gone were you?”

Ramsay was right. Stoneheart was right. You weren't anything anymore. You were a Queen, a leader at Robb's side but all you could manage at Jons was being a whore for his pleasure. And now you just tricked yourself into thinking marrying him would make that mean anything else.

“Fighting for my whore of a bride sounds like a wonderful idea.”

He should've let you go back. He should've just let you go back to Ramsay. You hadn't gotten any better since then but at least Ramsay wasn't a good man, you weren't bringing him down by being in his clutches.

You heard Jons voice close through the muffles of your mind, “Darling, I need you to listen to me-”

But you shook your head. Turning away from him, not bothering to hide that you were wiping the tears away before any out there could too see how pathetic you were. “I've kept enough of your time.”

Oh if only you could turn around and see how heartbroken the wide eyed expression in Jons eyes were at that one. The return to formality last seen only in the days of Castle Black but now you were so much more to him. But you didn't see any of that. And it made Jon mad.

He had worked so hard to help heal your mind, and suddenly the weight of the world and winter and these dreams and visions all but destroyed the progress you had made for him. It was starting to feel as if you were as lost as those first days you came back to him. But this time so much more was at stake if Jon couldn't fix it in time.

If you found out on your own now, Jon didn't want to know what you'd do. You had long walked away as his heart tore away at him, still standing there. He lost the chance to tell you the other night, and ever since Jon was trying to wait for the same perfect opportunity. But maybe you needed to know right now. Before you let the memory of Ramsay Bolton take you from Jon, back into his torment.

If he could have killed that man all over again, Jon would ensure this time was far bloodier. It would not be many months more until it marked a year since you escaped Ramsay, but some times it felt as if Jon kept losing you to him over and over again. Everytime you got better, Ramsay pulled you away from Jons love, back to make you hate yourself all over again.

If he were being honest, Jon was glad Gilly was back in Winterfell, otherwise he knew he'd have ended up all but rudely kicking her out of the room with little proper decorum. Instead, all which occurred was Sam nearly being ambushed as Jon both barrelled into the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Sams head jolting backward, “Jon?”

Words trapped in his throat Jons hands braced themselves against the desk Sam had been sitting at, head hung down as his jaw clenched through breaths asking to painfully heave. Before he could be asked anything else in checking, Jon all but hissed your name out, eyes closed knowing he had to say it out loud to someone before he said it to you tonight.

“Ah, now I must admit, when they told me I'd be given a watch partner I didn't expect someone as important as yourself to do so.” Many times since meeting again, Thoros's voice was grating and irritating as it was preachy.

Only now as you slowly approached, hair blowing back in the high winds and all but clutching the fur around you to cover your front you hadn't yet met his gaze. No, instead it was the green wavering in the far distance on the North you saw first.

Once more in the winds the only sound, did Thoros break that peace. Softer in tone and a weight behind it that he was not often heard with. “Mesmerizing isn't it?” Your head titled just a little bit to indicate you were listening. “I know, for everything I stand for, I'm the last person who should admit that, but it is. Hard to take your eyes off it once you see it the first time.”

The green truly was something else. Nothing but fear and horror has become you in the world of red and fire and yet the shimmering green against snow and ice was what drew you in so naturally. Neither of you spoke for a moment, Thoros leaned against one wall and you standing with both feet facing the far North with wide eyes.

By the time your voice spoke, Thoros had almost given up expecting conversation.

“She's pregnant.”

It took a good number of seconds and an entirely blank stare for the information to register to Sam, but the moment it did he shook his head out of the pause with a distinguished, “Huh?”

Jon's eyes were wide, something more vulnerable then Sam had seen in them for a very long time but it was there and Jon couldn't hide it. Repeating your name, there was something almost painful in the way Jon had to force it out. “She's pregnant. Around three weeks, she doesn't know.”

For the second time, Sam was at the disadvantage and had to be the one walked through things. “She- but- how would you know and she doesn't?” Only for a wide eyed and open mouthed realization to come over him, “Ghost. Ghost could probably sense it and if you went inside his head, then you could sense it.” The moment Sam begun a congratulations in his voice he stopped himself with another question instead. “Wait, she doesn't know. You haven't said anything to her?”

Grey eyes almost shining brighter then the firelight around the room, Jon felt nothing of the firm strength and resolve a King was expected to have. He felt more like a boy playing at leadership then truly one himself. “Sam, she's a mess. Everything the past two years and I managed to get her pregnant at one of her lowest points since I've seen her again.” Only the two of them in the room, Jon almost begged for the sun to go down already as if the night sky could hide such raw ramblings.

“You said it never gets any better.”

Still not facing him, you knew Thoros had heard you, but you elaborated anyways as you looked out to the green against the pitch black night sky. “In the dungeons, you told me it never gets any better. This feeling. What did you mean?”

He almost chuckled to himself, looking down to his feet before pushing off the wall to stand where you were precariously close to the edge of a mighty drop. “Five years it's been since the Lord granted me the ability to bring Beric back to the light. And in those five years I never thought I would meet a soul who would understand what such power feels like. Beric doesn't know, he never will. Coming back in comparison to bringing another back is easy. But us?” He whistled dramatically in the air. “There isn't a word in any language here or across the Narrow Sea that could describe what it feels like to someone who doesn't already know.”

The wind was bitter around your face but it kept you awake and reminded you that you at least had not yet taken a step too far and plunged to the ground. Far away your gaze was looking and so was the voice which matched your distant mind. “How do to handle it? Feeling everyday like you're so close to losing your mind, only to have that feeling double the next day and the next?”

A laugh from Thoros that time did not come across as genuine. Morose, macabre, but nothing in a genuine amusement as the wind almost mattered not around the two of you in something you had long since avoided speaking of.

He sounded more serious then most likely knew his whole life, “Well personally I drink a lot, but something tells me you haven't quite taken after your uncle in that regard.” Your eyes only then peeled to meet his, and there was a hint of a jest in there that was genuine. A person did still exist in the mess of him somewhere, so where was yours?

Tilting his head to implore him, Sam lowered his voice to something a bit more calming. “Jon, I don't really think many people get pregnant when the time is only perfect. Look at Gilly, she spent most of her time thinking I was never coming back, only for Karl and Rast to kill her father and take her home days after giving birth. Spent the first few months of Sam's life with me on the march back to the Wall.”

Sighing out deeply, Jon dropped his gaze. Jaw clenched as was his hands tensing against the wood, eyes slipping closed to try and think clearer. “This is different, Sam. I used to have visions of her, dreams of her. I'd see things that all came true of her, not realizing she was seeing me and now it's even stronger. Now she's almost living through memories that don't belong to her and she's going to make herself sick trying to figure it out to help me.”

“You used to-”

Pushing off the table Jon ran a hand over his mouth, the sight still came to him in his sleep sometimes. He'd wake up and all but throw the furs off the two of you to look you over to make sure you were alright. “I dreamt of the night she died. It was the last vision I ever saw of her. On the ground, soaked in her own blood and I kept watching her die over and over again. Then she came back to me, escaped the Boltons, came back to me and brought me back from the dead, Sam.”

Turning back once more Jon knew he looked almost like a wondering boy with fantasies then a man, a King discussing the complexities of his Queen. “She's done more to help me in that one day then I've ever wanted to ask of her, but I don't know how to get it through her head. Everytime I try, it's like she's afraid I'm lying to her or tricking her. Like somewhere inside her, she's scared she's going to wake up and be right back with Ramsay instead of me.”

He couldn't have that. The similarities were all too horrifying. Jon needed a way to get through to you before you were scared you had to have this child because you thought he expected it. Ramsay would've, it was the only reason he wanted you. He wanted you to give him an heir the way Rhaegar only wanted Jons mother to give him a third child. Jon couldn't have the first of your family together start off with those fears still swimming in your head, he couldn't.

Jon knew he's wanted to give you a child since your first night together. He had spilled inside of you secretly begging the gods to let it take, and then when it didn't Jon had to pretend he wasn't completely disappointed. It was far safer for your honour to wait, but that didn't change that Jon had wanted this a long time. Every single time he brewed you moontea he hated it, he wanted to throw it all into the fire and just take you twice more to ensure his seed took deep all over again.

But you came back to life so desperately alone, only to be told your only purpose in this new life was to be used for a child and nothing more. Not to get in the way, do as you were told and have a son and that was all you were needed for. He didn't want you to think that, and it slipped out in the air with Sam before he could contain the thoughts. “I don't want her thinking I did this on purpose.”

Sam though, had spent a good moment looking at him. Not with judgment or searching of guilt, but seeking a genuine raw honesty they both knew was sitting so close to the surface. “Did you?”

The truth between you two was strange. Not a man you ever would once think you'd care to have something in common with and yet at the frozen edge of the world, you and Thoros of Myr were the only ones who understood the turmoil of it all. The conflict. Beric could speak of doing what was told of him for the cause, but he didn't know what it felt like to be the reason it could happen.

Softly, you spoke out in a breathless sentence. “He doesn't understand. Jon tells me he needs me, but he doesn't get it. Not truly. He doesn't know what it feels like to realize your only purpose is him, that you wouldn't be here without him, you'd either be dead or live walking without cause if he weren't still here. That if you lost him, you'd lose the only reason to stay anymore.” Thoros was quiet as you spoke, and there was an eternal gratefulness in you that the night was too dark and wind to strong to see the watering behind your eyes.

“I'm not defending what happened, but you left him once and it brought you to us. And that brought him back to you. Maybe it's the Lord maybe it isn't, but it wasn't only someone elses plans against you, it wasn't vengeance. The only souls in this world who understand what it's like and we were supposed to come together. Beric doesn't understand why I have to bring him back everytime, but I'm willing to wager that if something happened to your King, you'd do everything then more to bring him back.”

Slowly you nodded, and Thoros did too. Bringing something up to his lips before handing it over to you. Turning with a raised eyebrow to the skin in his hand he clarified, “Black strap rum, courtesy of your fathers bannermen.”

Brows narrowing in hesitancy, you accepted it but the moment you opened the cap you glanced with more of a doubting glare. It took but one sip for you to cough before it even went down. A real laugh left him that time, grabbing you by the back of your cloak to keep you steady with one hand as his other went to take it back with a mighty sip for himself. You muttering out as he did so, “That is utterly vile.”

“You don't drink it for the flavour. But we still have time before they come, don't we?” Both of you looking to the green. “We'll find something for you to cope before then. Plenty of ways to self destruct.”

Taken back for a moment Jon asked Sam to repeat himself. “Did you get her pregnant on purpose?”

Jon almost couldn't hide his self doubt. He hadn't even considered that until that moment, but, what else was the alternative? Of course he wanted to get you pregnant, he's wanted that since the moment he came back. But he wouldn't get anything out of coming to Sam with this by lying. “I've always wanted her to be the mother of my children. Part of me hoped it took the night we were together, that first night in Castle Black..”

Opening his mouth to speak, Sam stopped with wider more playful eyes that in an instant had Jon turn inward knowing what was coming. “Oh. You two were...” Searching playfully for the right word he raised his eyebrows at Jon. “Intimate? The night she brought you back? You were that eager, were you?”

Turning away almost in a fidget, Jon rolled his eyes back knowing now he was moving far too much to be casual and both men knowing how much Sam was starting to enjoy teasing Jon about you. Almost mumbling Jon barley got out, unsure if he should even admit it. “I had her naked minutes after I first saw her in front of me.”

Leaning against the table he smirked at Jon, “And you're worried that after what? Nine months? That now is too soon to get her pregnant? By the sounds of it you'd be over the moon if she had right away.” Jon pushed off the table, pacing along the room with nerves once more. “Jon.” Turning halfway to look, Sam had dropped the mocking. “My point is, you've known each other since you were children. You snuck around with her for six years, and now you're married. It's normal for a man to try and get his wife pregnant. You didn't want children because you didn't want them to be bastards, now they won't be. They'll just be yours, and she knows that too. She's going to figure it out eventually.”

Hand running over is face Jon felt the nerves mix with exhaustion and it felt as it it boiled inside of him into something dizzying. “It's just..I hate not being able to help her with this..Ramsay's dead and I still can't make him go away for her..”

Soft as ever, both men looked at one another more vulnerable then some ever let themselves open up in a lifetime. “You can't force her to get better, Jon. You can only show her you'll always be there no matter how long it takes or how hard it gets.” Nodding, Jons head hung for a moment trying to ease his heart into slowing down enough to settle his breathing. “Trust me, it took Gilly and I a lot of work to get to where we are now. You two have known each other for way longer then that, you shouldn't be worse then me at this when you're talking to your own wife.”

“Thoros.”

Turning behind you, the nerves picked up in such a quick instant that you were grateful your hands were already clutched at the furs around you. Harder to see in the dark that way you almost flinched. But Jon stood there up on the so far, empty Wall as if he hadn't relaxed since you last saw him one bit, only having put the dark warm furs around him that blended so well with everything else on him like it was made as such.

Glancing to you for only a moment, Jon directed a quiet but respectful attention back to the man beside you. “I'll take over for you tonight, get some rest.”

A question formed in Thoros's eyes but he nodded. “Much appreciated, your grace.” Not quite passing you by, the slightly slicker Jons eyes slid down to the skin of what you now knew was rum before watching as the man turned the corner eventually to where the lift was.

By the time Jon had turned back, you once more were looking out to the shimmering sea of green against the night sky. Instead of a respectful stance next to you, Jon spared no time in coming up to your back. Not giving you the chance at pulling or pushing him away, Jon wrapped an arm around your front to pull you back into him. The other gloved hand raising up, across your neck to tilt your head enough to the side Jon could partially rest his forehead somewhat against yours.

You could feel him relaxing right away as your own hands came up. One somewhat finding the hand on your stomach, and the other grasping at what you could of his forearm. The wind between you both was cold, loud, and yet so much more peaceful then how you left him hours ago. And you voiced it as such, knowing you had to step up. “I shouldn't have spoken to you that way. I was out of line, and I'm so sorry.”

Sighing deep, you didn't blame him for it. You wouldn't take your apology either.

Instead of replying, Jon adjusted his hand to press yours against the scar over all the layers at your stomach before once again covering it and your hand with his own in the same spot. A gentle rasp in your ear had your eyes fluttering shut briefly at the soothing sensation. “I'm going to say something, and I need you to listen. No arguing, no anything. Just listen.”

You nodded, and for once Jon accepted that as enough for now.

Almost murmuring in your ear, you could feel the faint traces of his curls which fell loose dance across your skin as his thumb rubbed along your jaw. “Everything that's happening, you want to be there for it, help me fight it. But you keep going through waves of being alright and then this, because you refuse to admit you're still scared of him.”

You hated that you knew who he was talking about, and you hated that he was right.

You felt Jons breath dance along your skin as if the feeling itself made it easier to listen. “I let Ramsay say what he said, because no matter what, he had the right to say whatever he wanted his final words to be. But I was wrong about one thing. I should never have let you be there. I should've kept you away, beacuse ever since I took his head all you've been able to do is hear those final words over and over again.”

Shaking your head in denial, you managed to get out just the start of his name as he shushed you quiet again. Pulling you closer to his chest, almost nuzzling what he could reach of your head with his. “No, I know you have. You don't want it to be, but over and over again I know he's still there in your head. You went through hell with him, and I know you've been lying to me about the things he did. Trying to pretend it wasn't as bad as it was.”

Frozen to the spot, you thought for only a second when you realized it. “What are you talking about?”

It was Jons turn to shake his head, pressure on your scar against your hand Jon even closer mumbled into your ear. “I know he did things, made you do things that I never even could've imagined, and I know you don't want me to know because of how you think it'll look. But it doesn't change anything between us. You're scared he's right, that after all he did I won't want you, or I pity you. But he doesn't know me. Never has, and now he never will. Ramsay has no say in how much I will always love you, so I need you to understand me when I say I won't let him come between us anymore.”

You wanted to hide the watering in your eyes, but you had a strong feeling Jon was watching for it anyways. Stuttering barley a breath out, “Jon..everything in my head just feels..it's all wrong.”

Jon however, just kissed he side of it, before kissing the skin just under your ear. Breath hot against you, “Trust me, darling. It isn't just you. You're scared of disappointing me and proving Ramsay right, I'm scared of terrifying you into not wanting anything to do with me beacuse I'm too intense for you now.” Trying to protest in his own defence, Jon continued over your words. “For a year I thought you were dead, and for three and a half years before that you were married to my brother. And the first thing I did when I saw you alive in front of me was strip you naked and fuck you. And if we're being honest with each other, when I spilled inside you that night I was trying not to force you stay on my cock until it took.”

Pushing more against your scar, Jon almost smiled at the small gasp which left you. Looking to the green, but suddenly all you could see within it's shimmer was as if it reflected both you and Jon was you were now in it's sights. “Maybe it would've been easier if it had.” Jon silent, allowing you to elaborate on the thought before it left you. “Something Cersei told me, that if a woman has nothing in her life, she should treasure her child, hold onto one thing that's theirs, that makes sense if only to them.”

A hum vibrated through Jons chest into you, running his thumb more over your hand at your stomach before rasping, “You don't have nothing. You have me, you have your people, your family, you have everything right here waiting for you. And I'll help you however long it takes to get through that beautiful head, that you're allowed to not be alright. I don't want you to get better for anyone sake but your own. But you need to accept that you can't push this all down and pretend that's dealing with it, because now it's only hurting you more.”

As if every inch which Jon could reach of you was warm against the cold winds desperate to sting at the skin exposed. You leaned back almost more to hide from it without committing to turning away. A low murmur only he could hear, as your heart somehow did not beat yet raced all the same. “I haven't felt like myself since I've come back. I don't know if I ever will. I wanted to still give you the version of myself you fell in love with.”

Another large sigh left Jon, but the tone was creeping easier and easier back into being identifiable the more you relaxed against him. His voice low in your ear without ever wanting to move. “I was in love with you when I first caught a glance of you across the yard.” A small smile evident even when you could not see it on him. “I told you, we belong together. You can't get rid of me, and I'll never want you to. I want you by my side, but I'm not asking you to do the work. You're by my side because I love you, that's your job. Be the woman I love, and just let me love you for it.”

Almost giving you a tiny shake, you still managed to miss the brightness in his eyes shine with a smile as you huffed out a laugh. Your heart steadying a little calmer, “Sounds strange to say, but despite everything, life was so much easier when I was with child. We were in the middle of a war, but suddenly the only thing I was supposed to do was what I was raised my whole life to do. Marry a man and have his children, not very complicated it was.”

The whisper in your ear was almost insecure, “Were you happy?” A hum of question left your throat as he clarified. “When you were pregnant, being easy doesn't mean it made you happy. Were you?”

Your eyes narrowed for a small moment as you connected a few dots in your head, the fog clearing a bit more then it had felt for days leaving clues you otherwise missed. A soft smile fell over you, “I was married to a man I loved, and was going to have his child. Of course I was happy. But just beacuse we haven't gotten to the second part of that yet, Jon, doesn't mean it's for a lack of trying. You of all people should know that.” His chuckle pinged at your heart, it always did. “I'm not trying to deny you this, but it took Robb and I two years to get there.”

Only, the conversation you were expecting, wasn't what Jon approached it as. “It won't take two years, I promise.” A confused tilt of your head somewhat, you asked what he meant. Jon, spoke with the confidence of a man who knows what he wants, and suddenly the pressure of his touch against your scar made you lightheaded as he murmured to you. “I stopped brewing you moontea the night we married. It's only taken you and I two months. Not years.”

You were confused, trying to grasp what he was trying to say and- you knew Jon sensed the moment you figured it out. His hold on you was suddenly tight as if trying to keep you comfortingly close and to not let you move away. Your name came carefully from his lips, but you only stood wide eyed.

No longer even seeing the green, you only had one sense and it was the pressure of your hand trying to feel under all your layers. You...two months..the fortnight passed you had started this feeling. It was then you knew something in your head felt wrong but it wasn't that. Only, it was. Your emotions had been all over the place last time, needy, angry, on edge, you were more volatile then usual and you didn't understand why your head felt such a mess.

This time there was simply a bit of a pre existing mess it had to fight for attention with.

Previously you had worried you'd be a mess, conflicted and upset..but you had long moved passed that by now. You knew that, you had been ready the night you let Jon take you on Dragonstone. Yet, without that turmoil of conflict in your soul, you almost didn't know how to react, what to feel this time. Your voice barley there. “How did you-”

Jon luckily read the words in question. “Ghost can sense things we can't. He figured it out right away, I didn't until I was inside his head.” The cold winds no longer flew mindlessly by, it almost seemed to wrap around your limps and cocoon you in a sensation of something frozen to the spot without the sting of the temperature on your skin.

Your fingertips dug into what you could feel of the scar over everything and your heart lept from your chest and out to the world beyond. Almost echoing the words spoken some three years ago but not with quite the same joy, but an exasperated insecurity. “Why would you keep this from me?”

Turning your head moreso to the side, Jon rested his close enough he could almost lean down to nudge your nose with his. Nothing but patience poured from him. “If you haven't noticed, darling, your a bit all over the place lately. I didn't want to tell you while you were upset. I didn't want you to think-”

In what once might have allowed such insecurity to show in your tone, instead it was knocked back and downward by a hint of what could've been guessed was a smile. “You worried I'd feel pressured into it.” A nod was all you got from Jon, but letting your eyes slip closed, you found the bravery in you regardless. Reaching one arm backward, best you could you wrapped it moreso around the back of his neck, resting half along the skin you found there and half in the warm fur around him. Jon moved either closer into your back, or pulled you further into his embrace but his grip grew tighter once more. “I suppose it's only fair. I kept it from Robb, and you kept it from me.”

Were his heart not so heavy in his chest, Jon might have found it in him to chuckle. Instead you heard him roughly forcing a voice back out to the world in low, deep tones. “I know this isn't the life you dreamed of,” Wishing his grip wasn't so tight, you'd have turned to face him by now. Only this time you senses he was now the one hiding from you in a way.

Before the unsure feeling coming from on Jon could continue, you did what he seemed to be so good at with you. “Jon, the past is the past. I can't go back and wish I could change it now. You're my future now, and so the life I dream of is whatever we decide.”

He didn't say anything for a bit and neither did you. It wasn't the perfect portrait of a normal, joyous couple with such celebrating news, but perhaps that wouldn't suit you both. Not anymore. But surprisingly it was you who broke the quiet. The heavy weight you were so sure would burden you down with, it wasn't there. Not really.

You had made your peace with the life you lost, now it was the tormenting start of your new life plaguing your mind. But that shouldn't ruin this, they had no right being connected. “I believe that makes what? Four vows I've helped you break?”

Jon all but hid his face in your neck, muffled voice vibrating against you. “My father would be disappointed.”

Moving your hand back, you tried to keep him gently against you as much as you could manage from here. Leaning your head against his, there was the confidence in your voice to placate his insecure ones just as Jon would do for yours so often. “You are everything in a son a father could ask for. And I know yours is proud of you. He's always was proud, and he still is of who you've become. As is your mother.”

His hand over yours on your stomach tightened. After everything Jon had done to bring you back down to earth, he now was the one who didn't have the words anymore. But you didn't need him too. He wanted to focus on you as you did him.

And you knew Jon had forgotten, he lived an entire life thinking this would be something he would or could never have. He was so worried about how you'd react, you were starting to think it wasn't until right now Jon let himself truly feel something raw about it. But you'd let him take his time, just like he had with you. There was much to do come morning, but for now, the rest of the world and it's plights didn't get to exist. Not between you both, not right now.

Until the morning sun finally raised it's weary head, there was nothing up on the top of the Wall except you, Jon, and the new growing life he gifted you, against the otherworldly sight of a shimmering green winter sky.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine

[maid-with-sunset-in-her-hair]

The Eyrie is Impregnable

The constant repetition that nobody can take the Eyrie by force is meant to lure us into a false sense of security, it's not foreshadowing a subversion of that statement. We don't worry about the characters living there, because they are inside the safest most secure place in the whole world:

Lysa covered her boy's ear with her hand. "Even if they could bring an army through the mountains and past the Bloody Gate, the Eyrie is impregnable. You saw for yourself. No enemy could ever reach us up here." (AGOT Catelyn VI)

Except that Lysa was murdered by her own husband, who is also slowly poisoning her son. Lysa also assured Sansa that the Eyrie was impregnable and would protect them from Tywin's army if he ever found out about Sansa being there, only to turn around and try to murder Sansa herself a couple of days later. How is a castle supposed to protect you from your enemies if they’re already inside? Most importantly, the Eyrie’s own strategic position also makes it easy to besiege by enemies:

They had no eggs, no more than they had bacon. The Eyrie's granaries held sufficient oats and corn and barley to feed them for a year, but they depended on a bastard girl named Mya Stone to bring fresh foodstuffs up from the valley floor. With the Lords Declarant encamped at the foot of the mountain there was no way for Mya to get through. Lord Belmore, first of the six to reach the Gates, had sent a raven to tell Littlefinger that no more food would go up to the Eyrie until he sent Lord Robert down. It was not quite a siege, not as yet, but it was the next best thing. (AFFC Alayne I)

What use is all that grain if they will die from scurvy first? Scurvy has a mortality rate of approximately 75% after 10 months without any vitamin C, and the terrain up there is rocky so nothing much grows. The author is aware of this fact, that's why he included Davos smuggling onions during the year-long siege of Storm's End. Good thing that Littlefinger has the support of the Lannisters and the Lords Declarent actually care about Sweetrobin’s wellbeing, because they could’ve easily besieged the Eyrie into surrending:

On the valley floor autumn still lingered, warm and golden, but winter had closed around the mountain peaks. They had weathered three snowstorms, and an ice storm that transformed the castle into crystal for a fortnight. The Eyrie might be impregnable, but it would soon be inaccessible as well, and the way down grew more hazardous every day. Most of the castle's servants and soldiers had already made the descent. Only a dozen still lingered up here, to attend Lord Robert. (AFFC Alayne II)  

The servants and guards aren't going to risk getting snowbound up there for years and die from starvation or the cold, if the siege had extended they would've rebelled or mass deserted.

As a fortress, the Eyrie is a strategic disaster, but chances are that it’s function is to be an embodiment of the feudal contract, both in universe and out universe. A liege Lord seems untouchable, but in reality he completely depends from his vassals and servants for survival, and has as much power as they grant him. No wonder the Arryn are so focused in honor and maitaining promises, their castle is a constant reminder of their own vulnerability. It’s the perfect place for Sansa to learn how to be a good ruler.

#asoiaf #my meta #valyrianscrolls #sansa stark #lysa tully #robin arryn #anti petyr baelish

[jackoshadows]

Listening to the AFfC and ADwD audiobooks and it just hit me in the face with my unconscious biases.

Asoiaf ramblings under the cut...

The Jaime AFfC chapters just reinforced my dislike of the character - I saw no redemption, just a Lannister helping the loathsome Freys and his own house/family strengthen their stranglehold on the Riverlands. From doing nothing about poor Jeyne Poole being send North to marry Ramsay Bolton to threatening Stark allies in the Riverlands, Jaime is only concerned about the Lannisters coming out on top.

Jaime keeps making excuses for his support of the Freys being in direct opposition to his oaths to Catelyn by using the literal meaning of not fighting with a sword. All the while threatening to trebuchet Edmure's baby, taking Catelyn's family as hostages and even adding more guards when they are being transported so that there is no chance of escape or anyone freeing them. It's especially galling because for me the Freys are such loathsome cockroaches while poor Edmure has all my sympathy.

Which is why I am 100% for Ladystoneheart wrecking havoc in the Riverlands. Everytime there is a mention of the wolves or a band of outlaws taking down Lannister allies in the Jaime POV chapters it makes me so excited for the Freys/Lannisters getting utter wrecked!

If LSH wants to hang Jaime Lannister for crimes committed, I am here for it! I can understand where Brienne is coming from considering he saved her from unimaginable horror and yet the man deserves to hang.

And then I was listening to ADwD, and there's Jon's chapter of letting the Wildlings through the Wall after negotiation with Tormund and it struck me that as far as the Freefolk are concerned, Jon Snow is really not a nice guy is he?

The hostages went first—one hundred boys between the ages of eight and sixteen. “Your blood price, Lord Crow,” Tormund declared. “I hope the wailing o’ their poor mothers don’t haunt your dreams at night.” Some of the boys were led to the gate by a mother or a father, others by older siblings. More came alone. Fourteen and fifteen-year-old boys were almost men, and did not want to be seen clinging to a woman’s skirts. Two stewards counted the boys as they went by, noting each name on long sheepskin scrolls. A third collected their valuables for the toll and wrote that down as well. The boys were going to a place that none had ever been before, to serve an order that had been the enemy of their kith and kin for thousands of years, yet Jon saw no tears, heard no wailing mothers. These are winter’s people, he reminded himself. Tears freeze upon your cheeks where they come from. Not a single hostage balked or tried to slink away when his turn came to enter that gloomy tunnel. Almost all the boys were thin, some past the point of gauntness, with spindly shanks and arms like twigs. - Jon, ADwD

And this is where GRRM's oft mentioned quote comes into the play -

The villain is the hero of the other side, as sometimes said. That doesn’t mean that it’s all morally relative. That doesn’t mean that all things are equally good and evil. I think there is good and there is evil in the world, but I regard the struggle between good and evil as being waged within the individual human heart. ------ I’ve been always very impressed by Homer and his Iliad, especially the scene of the fight between Achilles and Hector. Who is the hero and who is the villain? That’s the power of the story and I wanted something similar to my books. The hero of one side is the villain of the other side. - GRRM

I sympathize with the Tullys and the Starks because we get their POV chapters and have spend time with them and are strongly pro Stark, pro Tully etc. And yet we get no such POV for the Freefolk even though characters like Mance Rayder are righteous in their goals, are shut off from the rest of the realm with a Wall and are only trying to survive.

Davos is often celebrated as being a voice of the Smallfolk despite supporting someone like Stannis Baratheon and yet I feel like Mance Rayder is where that praise should ideally go to. His freefolk parents killed by the NW, raised by the NW, experiencing first hand their bigotry and truly trying to help his people by gathering them together and getting to safety on the other side of the Wall. Like literally this should have been Jon Snow when defending the Wall against the Freefolk getting through...

And this is also why I dislike the double standards when it comes to Jon and Dany, both of noble houses, both their arcs as leaders having parallels in it's complexity and nuance - they both make morally grey and ruthless decisions and yet it's only Daenerys who is often called out on hers. Jon Snow's arc would be as much of a 'white savior' arc as Dany's and the only reason it isn't deemed as such is because of GRRM's orientalization of Essos. And that's a flaw of the writer, not the character.

#asoiaf ramblings while listening to AFfC and ADwD

[onionmaester]

Davos Seaworth: A Lifetime of Smuggling

An aspect of Davos' backstory which I do not believe I have seen discussed much, likely because to my knowledge it appears to have only been brought up fairly briefly, is the age of which Davos first became involved in illegal smuggling and the potential implications of this own his character, backstory and general morality.

The first time he had seen the Wall he had been younger than Devan, serving aboard the Cobblecat under Roro Uhoris, a Tyroshi known up and down the narrow sea as the Blind Bastard, though he was neither blind nor baseborn. Roro had sailed past Skagos into the Shivering Sea, visiting a hundred little coves that had never seen a trading ship before. He brought steel; swords, axes, helms, good chainmail hauberks, to trade for furs, ivory, amber, and obsidian.

Here Davos is shown reflecting on his experiences while serving upon the Cobblecat, which was the first ship he served on, and notes he saw the wall during this time and was "younger than Devan" at this point.

“My son is not quite twelve. I am the King’s Hand. Give me another letter, if you would.”

In this same chapter, Davos remarks that Devan is "not quite twelve", therefore indicating that Davos was presumably no older than eleven himself (at the maximin) when he first joined the crew of the Cobblecat. We do not know much of Davos' childhood prior to this, but it is known that he grew up in Flea Bottom which is the poorest slum of King's Landing.

The HBO show does state he is a "Crabber's son" (for the record though I have only ever seen clips of the show) but this does not appear to be mentioned anywhere in the books. Instead we get this;

“That may be so,” Davos said, “but when I was a boy in Flea Bottom begging for a copper, sometimes the septons would feed me.”

So we know young Davos was a beggar, so likely not from a family with any stable employment or means to support themselves. When Davos' family is brought up, only his wife and sons are mentioned. He is never alluded to having living parents, siblings, cousins etc. Given his family-oriented nature, one might also expect he'd be at least a bit guilty if he had abandoned any family to join the Cobblecat's crew (although granted it has been decades). So while I do not think its outright stated that Davos is an orphan, it seems likely.

I feel the reason why this might be important to note, and why it might have some notable implications, is because it shows how and why Davos became involved in smuggling in the first place. One criticism I have seen of Davos' character a few times is that he does not necessarily feel like the type of man who'd break the law for profit for many years, as he is one of the most morally upright and honest characters in ASOIAF.

While I do think these criticisms have some merit, I also think that there is nothing about being a criminal which necessarily means Davos would prevent Davos from being a generally moral man. This is especially the case in Westeros, which is a highly stratified feudal society where the commons have little protection or upward morbility.

On this same note; there is also another thing worth mentioning when considering the time Davos become a smuggler... the tenure of Tywin Lannister as Hand of the King.

A Wiki of Ice and Fire calculates Davos' birthdate as being no later than 260, although notes that Davos was likely born a few years earlier. Tywin was Aerys' hand from 262–281 AC, and one of his famed actions is removing the pro-smallfolk reforms. I've seen this theorised as contributing to the eventual rise of the Kingswood Brotherhood and their initial popularity with the smallfolk.

So judging by what we know; Davos was born into extreme poverty in a society in which distinctions between classes are part of the law, and likely grew up during a time where the rights and conditions of commoners were being taken away and decreased.

I do not mean to claim Davos is free of fault; he has cheated on his life, he associates with morally ambiguous folk such as Salladhor Saan (A pirate who has no scruples with pillaging innocent civilians) or Stannis Baratheon (a very fascinating character as well).

But I do think this history and context could be worth noting to inform how Davos grew up, and how he is the man that he is. He got into smuggling when he was young enough to possibly not fully grasp the implication of this, and likely continued all those years because smuggling was his main skill-set to support himself, and later his family.

Transitioning to being a legitimate merchant would likely carry a number of obstacles; having to explain where he gained his wealth and cargo he'd have to sell at first, paying tariffs, making himself more well-known to authorities which could risk his old crimes being uncovered and making it easier to arrest him for them. I do not think it is a contradiction between Davos generally being good-natured, but also continuing to do the (dishonest) job he is best at. Especially when his commitment to his family is such a major part of his character that it also likely was why he continued the job of a smuggler to support them.

#davos seaworth #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf analysis #asoiaf theory #stannis baratheon #house seaworth #smuggling #salladhor saan #tywin lannister #aerys ii targaryen #cobblecat #Roro Uhoris #devan seaworth

[samieree]

Born in Flames || Game of Thrones

OC x ?😏

-> Chapter XXIX ''Born in flames''

Chapter XXX ''First, you have to win with yourself''

Things weren't looking good for Robb, Jon, and Sansa, but weren't looking bad either. Everything depended on whether they could gain the support of the Northern houses and whether Jon would convince the Wildlings to fight for Winterfell.

Roose Bolton is dead, Ramsay has made himself Warden of the North and lives in this castle as if it were his. Stannis Baratheon is also dead, he died attacking the castle, just as Robb predicted. His army no longer existed, but at least there was an advantage to it - he would no longer be threatened or persuaded to Stannis' rights.

But nothing better awaits him now - he was just going with Sansa to, among other places, Bear Island to seek support from Lady Mormont. He will have to face a girl whose mother died because of his war. He can't run from this forever if he wants to try to take back the North. He saw what waits on the other side of the Wall, which gave him great motivation to retake Winterfell, as it was the only place they had any chance of defending themselves.

Although it would take some miracle for them to have enough men for this fight.

He would like to share Davos's - who stayed with them after Stannis' death - optimism that they will be able to gain enough support from the Northern houses and win against Ramsay. Really, he would like to be able to look at the world this way, but he can't do it anymore, and he tries to approach affairs realistically and not pessimistically.

On Bear Island, standing in front of the chamber where Lyanna Mormont was waiting for them, it was hard not to be drawn to unfortunate visions of the future. It is true that she agreed to receive them, and that was a plus, but it did not mean the success of their mission.

"Calm down." he heard Sansa's voice next to him and immediately looked at her. "Your hands are shaking. At most she refuses, it's not the end of the world."

I wish I could think like you.

"You can't pull people out of nowhere to fight, and no one wants to fight with the losing side." he replied rather dryly, although that was not his intention. He clasped his hands in front of him, because his nervousness was visible in their shaking, and such things should not be shown.

"From the letter Stannis showed you, it's obvious that someone would want to." he sighed quietly and didn't answer anymore.

The door opened and they finally stepped inside, stopping a few steps away from a long table where the Lady of Bear Island sat, flanked by two men, one of them a Maester.

Well, it's time to speak up.

"Lady Mormont." he greeted her, slightly bowing his head in a gesture of politeness.

"Welcome to Bear Island." Lyanna replied dispassionately, and there was an awkward silence. He didn't know where to start because he didn't want to get straight to the point. It would be a good idea to at least try to maintain the appearance that they didn't come here just for support...

"I remember the day you were born, my Lady." Sansa said, smiling gently. "You were named after our aunt Lyanna. She was said to be an extraordinary beauty. I'm sure you will be a beauty too."

"I doubt it. My mother was no beauty, but she was a warrior, a great warrior. She died fighting for you." she addressed the last sentence to Robb, while looking at him with her cold gaze.

He won't lie, it hurt, but he was prepared for it. It's high time to at least try to mend his ways. If he makes no attempt, he will prove unworthy of the sacrifice his people have made.

"I know. Likewise, I know that she was a special woman, she died during the fighting... My condolen-"

"Isn't there enough of this small talk already?" she interrupted him. He expected from that letter that this girl might have the character of her mother, but... He didn't expect that she would just interrupt him like that. "Why did you come here?"

"For a time, Stannis Baratheon stayed in Castle Black. Me too, that's where I went when I managed to make it out of the Red Wedding alive." he had to stop to swallow the lump in his throat when he was forced to brush up on that terrible day again. "He marched on Winterfell and died during the attack on the castle. But while he was still in the Castle Black, he sent ravens to the houses of the North asking for men, including you. You replied that-

"I remember perfectly well what I replied: 'Bear Island knows no King, but the King in the North, whose name is Stark.'" she reminded the content of the letter. "Are you still the King?"

"If the North still wants me as its King, then yes." he replied, holding her piercing gaze, although for a moment he felt like giving in to temptation and running away from this chamber and never coming back. Since she didn't respond, he decided to continue. "I made a mistake, I don't deny it. I will understand if I am not welcome here and will step aside for someone from my family to take my place. But now the priority should be to reclaim the North, Winterfell. Ramsay Bolton cannot keep it and keep in prison my and Sansa's brother, Rickon." his name also barely passed through his throat, because for a long time he thought that Theon had killed his brothers. "We've come to ask for your support, Lady Mormont. You have to understand that-"

"I understand that I am responsible for Bear Island and everyone who lives on it. Why would I sacrifice their lives and send them to someone else's war?"

This is not someone else's war - he wanted to say, but Davos was faster. Maybe that's even a good thing, because with this constant interruption, he might accidentally say something inappropriate, which would certainly not benefit their cause.

"If I may, my Lady."  he stepped closer, standing less than half a step ahead of them. "I understand how you feel."

"I don't know you, ser...?" she started, waiting for him to introduce himself.

"Ser Davos, my Lady, of House Seaworth. You don't need to ask your Maester, my house is rather new." he added the second sentence hastily, seeing Lyanna leaning towards the Maester and whispering something.

"All right, Ser Davos Seaworth. How can you understand how I feel?"

"You never thought you'd be in this position. Responsible for so many lives at such a young age."  these words sounded familiar to him... Even though he was older than Lyanna Mormont when he called the bannermen, and when his father was later killed and he had to take over his duties fully. "I also never thought I'd be in the position I'm in now. I was son of a crabber, then a smuggler. And now, in times of war, I speak to a Lady whose house can make a difference. But I'm here because this is not someone else's war, it's our war."

He paused and there was silence in the chamber. He probably expected Lady Mormont to want to comment on what he had said so far, but she only replied:

"Continue, Ser Davos."

"This man survived the Red Wedding, watched as his mother, wife, unborn child and lots of people were killed. Most people in his position wouldn't recover from something like that. And yet he tries to mend his ways while he is still alive and able to do so. Sansa Stark also went through hell, first with the Lannisters and then with the Boltons. And their half-brother Jon - who served as a squire to your uncle, Lord Commander, and who even gave him your family sword - died for saving the Wildlings from death. They understand that the real war will be between the living and the dead. And to win it, we need everyone who can fight and a place where we have a chance to defend ourselves: Winterfell." he turned and looked at Robb and Sansa. "If this isn't a family that should be supported, I don't know what family deserves that."

"Separately, we have no chance, and as long as Winterfell is Bolton's, the North will not be united. You want to protect your people - I understand, I want that too. We want to protect the entire North. But the four of us won't do it with just two thousand Wildlings." he added to what Davos said and everyone became quiet again.

The maester leaned towards her and started to say something, but she interrupted him with a wave of her hand. He felt like he was waiting for a judgement, because actually... In a way, he was. It all depended on how many people they could gather. His heart immediately sped up, even though he was trying to calm down.

"House Mormont have been loyal to the Starks for a thousand years. And that won't change today." after these words, he took a deep breath inwardly, and as soon as he leave this room, he will breathe aloud. He felt the stress finally begin to melt away from him. After all, he wasn't as ruined as he thought he was.

"Thank you, my Lady." he replied, he couldn't stop the slight smile on his face. "How many fighting men can we expect?"

Before she answered, she leaned towards the second man to her right, who had been sitting silently until now. Apparently he was responsible for defense. They whispered for a moment before Lyanna turned back to them.

"Sixty-two." well... It's not a large number, but there will be a few more of them... Besides, he couldn't expect much from one of the smaller houses. Also, most of the people died in his war, and then during the Ironborn attack, then under the Boltons... There weren't many soldiers left in the North. "Any man from Bear Island is worth ten from the mainland." she added this because they obviously must not have looked very happy...

"If they're half as ferocious as their Lady, the Boltons don't stand a chance." Davos replied, causing a soft smile to appear on Lyanna's lips. But it's good that he went with this line. Even though he clashed with him a bit when Stannis was at Castle Black.

On Bear Island, despite several difficulties, it was even easy for them. This lifted their spirits a bit, especially Robb's. The next goal was to reach an agreement with Robett Glover, who became the head of the family after the death of his brother, Galbart.

He agreed to receive them, so it was a good start, just like with Lyanna Mormont. Even though he felt better, his stomach felt tight again just before the meeting, and his nervousness kept him on edge. At least this time his hands weren't shaking and he didn't have to keep them clasped in front of him.

It quickly turned out that in this case his fear was justified, because they didn't even have time to explain why they came, before Robett interrupted them:

"The answer is no."

"Lord Glover, if you could just hear us-" he started, but again, he couldn't finish.

"I've heard enough." he interrupted him. His eyes were clearly filled with anger and the fact that he didn't want to talk to them any longer. "We just managed to retake the castle from the Ironborn, with the help of the Boltons. Do you want me to fight against them now? I could get skinned just for talking to you."

"That's already a good reason to defeat them." he noticed. "Boltons are traitors, because of them-"

"No. Not only because of them."

At first he wanted to deny it right away, to shout that it wasn't his fault that his own bannerman betrayed him and had allied with the enemy, but... He couldn't. He wasn't responsible for this betrayal, but he was responsible for several other things. He was a fool to try to make a deal with Walder Frey, but he was desperate, he needed men to continue the war. He was torn whether to return to the North and retake it from the Ironborn, or to stay and finish things with the Lannisters and avenge his father.

And it ended up that he would almost have to be avenged too.

He shouldn't have broken his word, it was his first and biggest mistake. He regretted it now, but then... Back then, he didn't think the consequences would ever catch up with him. First he was devastated by the news that his brothers had been killed - which had recently turned out to be untrue, thank the Gods - and then he felt happy in the arms of a crystal good woman.

He didn't want to abandon this peace, let it escape somewhere. Besides, it was also about honor. Not his, but Talisa's. He slept with her without marriage, he couldn't just leave her like that. He put her honor above his own and... She ended up even worse. She died.

There was one more thing that was bothering him... What happened to the Grey Wind? When he was running away, he had no time to look back and to this day he didn't know what happened to his direwolf. They slaughtered him there like a pig...? He hopes in his heart that he somehow managed to escape...

"How many other houses in the North have agreed to fight for you?" asked the Lord after several unbearable moments of silence.

"The Mormonts. We sent ravens to houses Manderly and-"

"I don't care about the ravens, I care about the real forces you have. You're asking me to join your army, I want to know what army it is."

What an irony of fate, just recently he was arguing with Stannis that he didn't have enough men to take Winterfell, and now he looks like he runs before he can walk.

"For now, the main force is the Wildlings, whose-" he didn't finish, but not because someone interrupted him, but he stopped when he heard Robett's laughter. No matter what else he had to say, it wouldn't change anything.

"So the rumors are true. I didn't dare believe them." he shook his head, losing his laugh and looked at both, Robb and Sansa. "I received you out of the respect I had for your father. Now I want you to leave. House Glover will not abandon its ancestral home to fight alongside the Wildlings." he talked about the people from beyond the Wall as if they weren't people, as if talking about them left a bad taste in his mouth.

He turned and moved towards the entrance to his 'ancestral home', apparently expecting them to leave. Robb knew it was a lost cause here and they had nothing to look for, and he wanted to turn and leave too, but Sansa was determined not to end the conversation just yet.

"I remind you that House Glover is pledged to House Stark. Sworn to answer when called upon."  he didn't recognize his sister, but he was glad that she wasn't broken by what she had been through, that she still had the strength to fight. If it weren't for her and Jon, he certainly wouldn't have tried to take back the North. He never properly appreciated having them.

Robett stopped and stood still for a moment. Then he turned and walked closer to Sansa. As they stood next to each other, Robb could see that what the Lord was going to say would not be pleasant to anyone.

"Yes, my House has served the Starks for hundreds of years. We mourned your father when we learned of his death." here he moved his gaze to Robb, even though he was still standing in front of Sansa, who had lost a bit of the confidence she had just a moment ago. "When my brother was Lord of this castle, he answered your call and hailed you King in the North." he took a step to the side and stood in front of Robb, who at that moment again felt like running away or sinking into the ground. The guilt fell on his shoulders again and he could almost feel it pressing down on him, making him smaller and smaller, while Lord Glover grew bigger. "Where were you, King, when the Ironborn attacked this castle? When they threw my wife and children into the dungeons? When they harassed and killed our people? Taking up with a foreign whore." as he said this, Robb involuntarily squeezed the pocket in which he always kept with him the silver necklace that belonged to the stranger in his dream. "And then you lost yourself and those who followed you. I once served House Stark, but that House is dead."

He could have said nothing. He could have left it as it was and ended the conversation, hung his head and let the weight of guilt sink him to the mud on the ground. But Sansa can still be strong. For the North. If she can do it, so can he. They still have hope left, and it dies last.

"I know what I did." he started, surprising the Lord. "And I regret it. But your brother died at the Red Wedding so that I could live. You may question whether he should have sacrificed himself, but if you turn your back on me now, he died in vain."

It turned out that this was the end of the conversation, because Robett didn't answer anything. It was obvious that he was thinking hard about these words, but he didn't say anything. This time he was truly gone, the heavy wooden door closing behind him with a loud noise.

Back at camp and talking with Jon about everything, they argued about what to do. Two reasons clashed: Jon and Davos felt they had to attack now because they couldn't wait until they ran out of supplies. However, Robb and Sansa objected, saying that they needed more people. Only they didn't know where to get them.

Exactly, about this... He noticed Sansa writing a letter shortly after this discussion. He stood at the entrance to the tent for a moment before entering to ask who she was corresponding with.

* * *

Traveling on a dragon was definitely faster. When Visenya returned to Meereen, she spotted ships approaching the city and ready to attack. It seemed she returned just in time to take command and end the conflict as quickly as possible.

As she can see, a few weeks of her absence were enough for war to come to Meereen. She wonders if she had stayed in the city, would the Masters have dared to attack it...

The dragon landed on the roof of the pyramid where she resided. There wasn't enough room for the dragon anymore, because during its stay in the wild, Maelia had grown a lot - just like Drogon. But somehow she managed to land properly and tilt so that Visenya stepped off her back and onto the balcony.

As soon as she set foot on the balcony, the door opened and one of the Unsullied stood there, not anyone she knew. They were probably expecting an attack, not the Queen's return, not like this. The soldier, seeing her, immediately moved out of her way and knelt on one knee, bowing his head. So did the other Unsullied in the chamber when they saw who had returned. She felt a strong gust of wind on her back - probably Maelia and Drogon flying away - as she entered. She quickly looked around the room and saw someone was missing...

Varys.

She sighed quietly. She has a lot of work ahead of her here...

"Can you please leave me alone with Tyrion?" she asked. Everyone nodded and headed for the door. She stopped Missandei for a moment. "Could you run a bath for me?" the girl nodded, they squeezed hands and Missandei went with the rest.

She dreams of finally immersing herself in hot water and forgetting about everything around her... Although her situation has recently improved - she finally scored a hundred thousand cavalry, which is not a small thing - it was in Meereen that everything took a wrong turn.

When they were alone, she didn't speak. She had to think about what to say first, because she didn't expect to find the city in such a situation. Yes, she knew what the mood was like before her escape, and she had heard from Arthur and Daario how Meereen was doing after her escape, but no one had updated information, and it wasn't good. She went out onto the balcony and watched as the ships pulled up at the walls of Meereen and prepared to attack. After a while, the first bullets from the catapults flew towards the city, then she returned to the pyramid.

"I know, it doesn't seem like it, but despite temporary difficulties, the city is developing." she raised an eyebrow at Tyrion's statement, but still didn't say anything. She crossed her arms and waited for what else he had to tell her. Although the explosions outside interrupted him a bit. "We should take shelter." the constant silence on her part was not encouraging to continue talking, but he can't help that when he's stressed he starts talking a lot... "Meereen is strong. Trade is booming and people love you. Of course, not everyone, but... No ruler can count on the love of all his people. But the development of Meereen is the reason for this attack. Masters cannot allow Meereen to succeed, because if a city without slaves succeeds, it means that no one needs a Master."

"People love the Queen who fled her city?" she asked in a dispassionate tone, looking at Tyrion carefully.

Well, the city is still standing, so... I guess he didn't do that bad.

"The Red Priestesses have the gift of speech-"

"Just like you?" she couldn't help herself, she had to interrupt him. She tilted her head, and a smile finally appeared on her face.

"Yes... Although there are as many opinions as there are people."

"Where's Varys?" she asked what interested her from the moment she saw that he was not in the room. "He ran away as soon as I disappeared?"

"He sailed to Dorne, as far as I know. All for you, to gain allies-" he was interrupted by a bullet that broke the thin, parchment wall separating balcony and chamber, and fell inside. They instinctively covered themselves and turned away, even though nothing even flew towards them. "...and ships."

This is where her red light went on. He doesn't know that she has gained the support of the Dothraki, with his knowledge he shouldn't assume that they will need more ships.

"What happened to the Meereen fleet?" she asked. "Ninety-three ships, what happened to them?!" she couldn't control herself and got a little carried away, almost shouting at him.

But she needed every ship she could get, or she'd never be able to get her entire army to Westeros at once, and she'd rather avoid making multiple trips across the sea.

"It was burned." she closed her eyes and bit her lower lip a little, counting to ten in her head so as not to raise her voice again. "But it will be rebuilt quickly, and the Dornish will definitely support you, after all, you have the blood of not only Targaryens, but also Martells."

"We're going to need a lot more ships." she replied, sighing softly again. The constant explosions in the city didn't help her concentrate at all, and she had to act quickly. She couldn't let the citizens die because she couldn't act properly.

She's not a war strategist, and when she sails to Westeros, she'd prefer to rely on someone more experienced than her in this matter, but now... Now she has some rudimentary plan in her head.

"See if it's possible to start talks with Masters and extend the matter for a few days. At least three, maybe that's enough." she didn't know how far from Meereen Arthur and Daario were, along with all the Dothraki she had managed to gather under her, but she hoped they weren't sparing the horses. She will need an army larger than the Unsullied themselves, when in addition to the attack from the sea, there will also be a threat in the center of the city, Sons of the Harpy. Now she had no doubt that it was the Masters of Yunkai and perhaps Astapor who were paying them, and if they were attacking... Their 'army' in Meereen will do the same soon. Unless they've already attacked... "Use your gift of speech, and if they don't agree, tell them I invite them to talk it the Pyramid, or on some neutral ground, or whatever. I'm sure you'll come up with something. I have to free my dragons."

Tyrion, on the other hand, thought that Visenya had no plan yet and that was why she wanted him to buy some time. He wasn't going to question it, because he didn't have a better idea himself, and he was still thinking about what they could do in their situation.

She had been waiting for the dragons to be released from the moment she mounted Maelia in the arena. She wanted to finally remove the chains from their necks and set them free, even if they decided to never return to her. The thought of seeing her children brought a smile to her face, but she stopped at the door, stopped by Tyrion's voice.

"No." she was about to ask what he meant by that, but he explained it himself. "I did it not long after you went missing."

"And they didn't eat you?"

"Apparently, I really am your friend." she wanted to roll her eyes and tell him not to say such words, but she limited herself to the former.

"Then I'll go take a bath. Come to me as soon as you settle something." her hand was already on the door, but this time she stopped on her own. She wasn't sure if she should say what was already on the tip of her tongue, but she felt like he deserved it. "Tyrion?" she caught his attention as he reached for the wine. "Thank you. That you took care of the city, that citizens have a good life, that you took care of what is said and thought about me. The attack would have happened sooner or later anyway... And you never wanted anything bad for me. Once more: Thank you."

She didn't wait for his answer, she just quickly left the room and closed the door behind her.

~

-> Chapter XXXI ''Command'' -> general masterlist -> Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon masterlist

#robb stark #game of thrones #robb stark survived Red Wedding #fanfiction #gra o tron #fanfic #robb stark game of thrones #game of thones fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #wattpad #wattpad writer #tyrion lannister #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #sansa stark #jon snow #davos seaworth

[finitefall]

Some have been mentioning the Battle of the Bastards in their reblogs of my post, and I thought I’d give my two cents on it.

The thing is, Sansa’s loyalty to Jon can only go so far. Why? Because the writers needed their strong female character on the show. Many before me have been explaining why it could only be Sansa: D&D are sexists. We know this, there’s no debate about it unless you’re talking to someone very, very stupid. But the female audience of Game of Thrones couldn’t be entirely forgotten. So they needed their “feminist icon”, their “strong female character”, who could only be a main character to have a real impact and be significant.

That’s also why Sansa is whitewashed since the first season. They need her, because the other main female characters on the show don’t fit what they want in a woman, what the patriarchy wants women to be like, they don’t “conform to their gender” (like Arya, who they turned into a killer machine saying that most girls are stupid), they threaten the patriarchy and the status quo (like Daenerys, who’s definitely darker in the show even if we don’t talk about season 8), or they’re an antagonist (like Cersei).

Sansa is “traditionally feminine”, she doesn’t threaten the status quo, she doesn’t threaten the patriarchy, she’s not an antagonist, and she’s a “good victim” unlike Daenerys:

Without Littlefinger, and Ramsay and the rest, I would have stayed a Little Bird all my life.

(Sansa, 8x04)

Their strong female character needs badass moments. And show!Sansa stans will always remember when she was the one to save the day instead of Jon, when it was a woman instead of a man. She’s getting a leadership arc in season 6, because they put her in the North by changing her storyline in the books and giving her Jeyne’s. Because they love Sophie Turner in a creepy way, yes, but also because they needed her to go back North to give her a leadership arc.

When Sansa and Jon reunite, her efforts to convince him to take back Winterfell aren’t paying. Jon just died and came back to life, he’s done with the fighting, he’s just done in general. It’s only when Ramsay sends him a letter in that same episode that Sansa convinced him:

A monster has taken our home and our brother. We have to go back to Winterfell and save them both.

(Sansa, 6x04)

It’s Rickon. Rickon is still alive, Ramsay has him, and he’s their little brother. The rest of their family is dead, or presumed dead. Yes, Brienne saw Arya, but they have no idea if she’s still alive at that moment. No, right now the only family Jon has left is Sansa. He died, he came back, he doesn’t know why, the only thing he knows is that he doesn’t want to fight anymore. But Sansa came back, no matter that they didn’t get along at all when they last saw each other. And Rickon is still alive. He still has the two of them, Ramsay has the latter and is a threat to the first. That’s why he asks the help of the Free Folk, that’s why he tries to convince Northern Houses to fight with him.

I’ll skip the part where Sansa is absolutely unhelpful, gaslight both Davos and Lyanna Mormont, and think people will fight because she’s a Stark. Huh, no. They won’t, they didn’t. The ones who fought alongside Jon didn’t do it for her, and the Knight of the Vale didn’t do it for her either, but because she asked Littlefinger. They only did what he told them to do.

Back to trust and loyalty, she tells Brienne she trusts Jon:

Then why did you lie to him when he asked you how you learned about Riverrun?

(Brienne, 6x05)

It’s an interesting scene, because it ends here. Sansa doesn’t answer Brienne, so it’s up to the audience to guess the answer and people will have different opinions on what the reason is.

Before the battle, Sansa tells Jon they don’t have enough men (well, it’s not his fault that not enough Northern Houses will fight for you, Sansa), that he doesn’t know Ramsay like she does and will fall into his trap, that she needs to listen to him. And he does, actually:

All right, tell me. What should we do? How do we get Rickon back?

We'll never get him back.

(Jon & Sansa, 6x09)

She does know Ramsay. No, he won’t let Rickon live. But what was the reason that convinced Jon to fight Ramsay and take back Winterfell? Rickon. Rewind:

A monster has taken our home and our brother. We have to go back to Winterfell and save them both.

(Sansa, 6x04)

It was never about saving Rickon, and Sansa knew it. It was about taking back Winterfell, and revenge (no one can blame her for this, of course, I’d love to kill Ramsay Bolton). The fact is, at this point, the audience does wonder what Sansa is doing. Is she manipulating for her own gain? Does she not trust anyone anymore? We don’t know, and that’s not something the writers care about. What they care about is that Sansa is back North, they’ll take back Winterfell, and she’s having “badass” moments with some lines.

And when it does seem like Ramsay is going to win, who is surprised to see the Knights of the Vale coming to save the day? Not the audience. Now, this has be done many times, like in The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. I absolutely love the Battle of Helm's Deep in this movie, and yes, the Uruk-hai seem to be winning. There doesn’t seem to be a chance for the men to win, even joined by Elves. But Gandalf arrives like he told Aragorn, and he brought Éomer and the Rohirrim cavalry. It’s a classic twist during a battle, and sometimes it works. The Battle of the Bastards is actually great to watch, but the issue is that, as mentioned by several people, Sansa who told Jon again and again that they didn’t have enough men didn’t tell him there were more men, didn’t tell him that she was gonna try to convince someone and not lose hope, and it’s being shot in a way that says: Sansa saved the day. Which, again, is exactly what the writers want it to look like, since they need their strong female character.

Did she? Save the day, I mean? Yes and no. Knowing more men would be here would have changed the battle plans. Men could have been saved. They could have used the Knight of the Vale either from the beginning, or when they decided to, as an element of surprise - either way, it should have been decided by the one leading the army. Why? Because that would have been smart, and that’s how a battle works. And for those who would think to argue this:

What should I do differently?

I don't know! I don't know anything about battles.

(Jon & Sansa, 6x09)

What does all of this mean, in conclusion? What can we say about Sansa and her actions? It depends, because the writing is just awful. Sansa being a good person who just doesn’t trust anyone anymore because of PTSD is all right. Sansa only trusting Jon is all right. Sansa becoming a player in the game of thrones who will put herself first and do anything to win is all right. But Sansa being a mix of all those different versions of Sansa doesn’t work, except for Sansa stans because what matters, again, is her having badass moments and getting a leadership arc, not good writing.

#GOT #anti got #anti sansa stans #anti show!sansa #cath talks

[rotzaprachim]

ok thinking about tay kolma and. i think he’s one of the hanging threads of the first season of andor, a character who is, by implication, introduced along with mon mothma. is he someone trustworthy enough for mon to essentially trust her entire wedge of the rebellion with? is he, a (seemingly) wealthy banker from chandrila, someone she can trust with a secret that could easily kill not only her but the rebellion’s funding streams? 

and he’s interesting because they show hasn’t really played the card they’ve introduced with him yet. he’s the one who reads into her financial situation, yes, and he introduces her to davo sculdun. what interest does he have in mon? how trustworthy might is he really to the rebellion? and the other interesting thing is that while he’s obviously one of the elite and a banker, he doesn’t seem to have the financial resources of either mon mothma or davo sculdun to be able to solve her problem for her. 

 and there’s a lot of answers but i think one of the more thematically interesting is that tay kolma is already absolutely aligned with rebellion - his politics have grown a little strong for her taste, after all- but a totally different part of it than mon and luthen. saw gererra probably needs at least some funding, by someone, as do anto kreeger and the many other groups. even if tay isn’t personally providing the money, he may want to keep mon out of the loop so that imperial interests don’t crack down on whatever network of funds he’s already dealing with. (tay taking a look at mon’s finances and going sheesh girl i will *try( to help but i am only going so far as a kind of triage operation to keep other financial streams going is also super interesting and a parallel to the later anto kreeger/lonni jung business.) one of the most interesting parts of andor for me is how it portrays the flow of information and trust within rival leftist groups, and i think this could be an interesting card to pull back into play with the narrative of mon and cassian trying to pull together an... alliance in season 2

#tay kolma #just... thoughts #another person who'se wealthy but not in a way they can /access/ money when it's useful is vel which is also interesting #andor

[esther-dot]

I feel like GRRM's update for the first time confirms that not all will be the same in the ending as we have seen on screen. Bc what else can we make abt the deaths? Who died we cared abt? Rickon, Jamie, Cersei, Daenerys, Theon (oh, Euron too, lol). Any of these surviving changes the story significantly, as well as any death that we haven't seen on screen (looking at you, Tyrion!) What are your thoughts on this update Dot?

Don’t laugh about Euron, anon, @istumpysk will come for your ass. 😂

I read that update and wondered what prompted him to write that because it gave me a similar feeling to reading his post GoT finale post. @kazetoame saw my tags and filled me in:

Thank you @kazetoame!!! I didn’t know what was happening but it felt prompted by something specific. Now we know!

On the positive side, I think he’s making progress because he’s thinking about the reception of the book and I definitely felt like this was his effort to get the audience hyped. Now knowing that may be to benefit HOTD rather than be about TWOW arriving soon...well, I don’t know. I’m still pleased by the vibe. However, I’m doubtful this is as new/exciting as we want it to be as far as it giving more information.

Here’s part of his post GoT blog from May 2019:

And this is part of the one he posted today:

He also talks (again) about his characters that weren’t included or D&D killed off

To me, the two posts sound fairly similar. Even the discussion of the ending feels about the same to me. Now he says “Some things will be the same. A lot will not.” Back in 2019 he said:

I understand why people want to latch onto “Characters will live! Others will die! A lot will be different!!!” But I suppose I’m hesitant to think he means what we want him to mean because even today he was still saying this:

He prefaced all the talk about characters living/dying and when with this comment, so I don’t think he’s changed his mind about what his endpoints are or even the major beats. How things will transpire, sure. But those important moments he’s had in his head for years/decades? The things he has told us time and again over the course of years that he told D&D? The things the fandom wants to believe are strictly their fuckery? Like say, Stannis burning Shireen, King Bran, Dark Dany? I still think that’s all from him. The endpoints? I still think those are his. That may just be my pessimism speaking, and I am certainly not trying to persuade anyone to agree, I just read that and thought...this is (almost) the same post.

My thought about ASOIAF characters not making it to the end who did in GoT was Cersei, which @kazetoame said as well:

Our minds! Although, my one hesitancy there is that I always thought Jaime and Cersei died together, and for some reason I didn’t think he’d be axed before seeing Tyrion again? But it could be Edmure, Davos, Gendry, Tormund (who for some reason feels like a very safe bet to me)…I mean, it doesn’t have to be one of the characters that is preeminent in our minds. I thought Cersei because in my head Aegon takes KL before Dany arrives and is winning over the people and that plays into why Dany kabooms the place. The Dany v Cersei idea seemed like a show thing to keep fans from realizing Dany was the final baddie, not Cersei. But like I said, it could be a number of characters. I’m not sure that someone dying sooner necessarily means a remarkable difference in the endgame. It may mean certain things (like the burning of KL) make far more sense though.

I also thought the comment about characters living in ASOIAF who died in the show is (potentially) a very misleading idea. I already see people hoping Dany survives, but it could be someone like Melisandre, we could see Benjen again, Edd could survive, Missandei could live, I reblogged a post suggesting Selmy. I know he doesn’t mean it badly, he’s just doing his job and trying to help the shows set in his world succeed, but it seems cruel to bring up this idea in such vague terms when we all know the fandom at large only cares about Dany surviving so they will take it as the confirmation of that. I am sure that isn’t the person he’s thinking of. Fingers crossed Rickon lives! And if he does, a lot of fans have pointed out that Sansa should be Robb’s heir as she is older, that progress means less sexism and that the eldest regardless of gender should inherit, so I’m not sure that Rickon surviving has to change her ending. I’m not counting on it, but it’s nice to think about. My point is, Martin can be honest, but his honesty still leaves a lot of room for us to deceive ourselves. I’m trying really hard not to.

So, to me, the post felt similar to what he wrote after the GoT finale only a little more focused in his desire to hype people for his books and convince them TWOW is still worth reading. He knows how the end of GoT went over, and I think that’s part of why he’s again trying to point out that there will be stuff we don’t know in his books, and he really did spend a while emphasizing that. Yay! But I also think there are reasons other than just trying to be nice to us that leads him to make these comments, and I’ve already seen articles pop up saying he is reassuring fans his series will end differently...and I just don’t know that that is an accurate reflection of what he was trying to say. There will be a lot of differences in the particulars, I know that. But will the things we really care about be dramatically different? Sadly, I’m still doubtful.

#ask dot #grrm

[lol-jackles]

Game of Thrones was a hugely successful show, with millions of viewers around the world, making a lot of money. But it doesn't seem like it's a show that gets rewatched. If you take, for example, the Nielsen data of the top watched shows in streaming is never among them. Why, in your opinion?

Games of Thrones have shown up in the Nielson top ten now and then, especially ahead of House of Dragon, just not consistently like network tv drama i.e NCIS, Grey Anatomy, and Supernatural.  

A few things lessened GoT's rewatch value:

In general season 8 didn't have the emotional payoff so it lessened the rewatch value;  Bran wouldn’t use his abilities in any way to help defeat the White Walkers, Jon wouldn’t face off against the Night King, Daenerys was off the rails and murdering the wrong innocent people.  

The flandarization of the main characters.  Previous complex characters with hidden depth were flattened into single traits.  To rewatch these characters degrade and devolve over time makes rewatching a bit harder to endure. 

Then the show's frequent character deaths mean it's harder to be invested in the characters. 

I may be in the minority category in that I think the ending was the right one, especially concerning Daenerys, which I saw coming since season 2 so it was no surprise to me.  But I also concede that the execution was off and the buildup was lacking, which is why the ending felt unearned for many people. 

Still, there are some characters that did get the endings they deserved, so to rewatch from the beginning and watch them go through all their troubles, before finally, finally getting what they deserve in the end is rewarding.  Brienne of Tarth becoming a knight. Ser Davos became a part of the Small Council. Sansa Stark becoming the queen of the North. Even Theon getting redemption after everything he did the first few seasons of the show – those moments make it worthwhile to watch. 

[aegor-bamfsteel]

According to Kit, he had relationship with dominant women(Ygritte and Dany) which is defined by his relationship with Cat who was 'horrible' to him. Shouldn't he seek relationship with a woman who validates him and soft towards him regardless of his name and title. Someone who understands him and not being abusive. Why did he get in relationship with Dany if he firsthand saw how horrible she is?

As agentrouka-blog said wrt Jon and romance, “we seek the love we think we deserve”. Jon grew up feeling insecure about his illegitimate status, and how each victory he had was tempered by suspicion that he was trying to usurp his true born siblings. He didn’t have the secure future the Stark kids did. He wanted Winterfell, the only home he ever knew, but that’s filled with shame because to get it something would have to happen to his siblings. In the books there are passages indicate he does want a woman who validates him, who he can give flowers, show Winterfell, sings, is kind to children, and understands the importance of rebuilding the family lost to him; he projects those desires onto Ÿgritte (who hates castles, hot water, flowers) and even to Val (who is against settling down in a castle with a man and outright says she’s not a Southron lady). While the show softened Y/J into more of a romance, it still wasn’t a relationship Jon chose, and neither was Däny (summoning him to her cabin, and he didn’t really get to pursue a relationship of his own volition. But even if he was, it’s possible due to his upbringing he’d feel that the beautiful kind highborn lady is out of reach for him, and she’d have to make the first move to tell him his feelings aren’t wrong.

Asking me to find logic in S7&8 GOT is like asking me to fairly assess House Tàrgaryen: I’m approaching it from a negative lens, so any conclusions I make are colored by that. In 8.1, Jon explains to Sansa that he brought 2 dragons and an army to Winterfell with Dány, which should be instrumental in fighting the Others. Davos makes a joke about that. In 7.6 he was formal and refused to tell Dány what had happened to him that he’d gotten apparently fatal scars. In 8.4 he’d tried to suck up to her when she was ready to burn KL out of revenge, but when he wouldn’t reciprocate, she decided to rule through fear rather than love. Basically, there’s very little romance in Shownerys. As a fan of Jon Snow, I hated how his character was warped to even feign interest in her. And even though I’m not a Dàny fan, that she’d be interested in this awkward, brusque, wouldbe rival who is basically a stranger, seems insulting to what she’s gone through as well (he’s boring like Quentyn, and book!Dány is already fearful of betrayals…she’s not letting a stranger come that close).

#ask #anti got #anti jonerys #opinion

[goodqueenaly]

Why did Harwin not bring Arya back to Robb and Catelyn straightaway? Is he not loyal to the Starks anymore? And why would he think Robb and Catelyn will be happy when he shows up and demands ransom for bringing Arya back? He’s obviously still nice to Arya but it just feels a bit weird… sorry if it’s a stupid question! Love your blog btw!

No worries, Harwin himself explains his reasoning after he catches Arya when she tries to escape:

The look she gave him was full of hurt. “I thought you were my father’s man.”

“Lord Eddard’s dead, milady. I belong to the lightning lord now, and to my brothers.”

“What brothers?” Old Hullen had fathered no other sons that Arya could remember.

“Anguy, Lem, Tom o’ Sevens, Jack and Greenbeard, all of them. We mean your brother Robb no ill, milady ... [sic] but it’s not him we fight for. He has an army all his own, and many a great lord to bend the knee. The smallfolk have only us.” He gave her a searching look. “Can you understand what I am telling you?”

This is not a long exchange, but it's an incredibly important one in forcing the reader to reconsider and remember the socio-political contexts of these intersecting narratives, Arya's and the Brotherhood without Banner's. It's a point often made but worth repeating that ASOIAF - and certainly ASOIAF up to this point, in ASOS - has been told mostly from the perspective of aristocrats. With the exception of Davos (whose POV largely functions as that of a commoner, despite his courtly living and knightly advancement) and the Prologue characters (by their chapters' nature limited in outlook), our eyes on the world are the eyes of highborn people, those figures whose families have formed the unquestioned ruling class of Westeros (or, for Daenerys, in Valyria) for thousands of years.

Arya, as the daughter of the ruling Lord Stark and granddaughter of the ruling Lord Tully, is the inheritor of this aristocratic certainty of position, and in turn holds certain expectations of the universe. The Starks rule the North as its ultimate suzerains, and all northmen - especially those, like Harwin, in service of Winterfell itself - subsequently owe their ultimate allegiance to the Starks, to put the well-being of the Starks first. To be clear, it's not that Arya believes the Starks have no responsibilities in this model of society: indeed, she wanted to find a way to free the captured northmen imprisoned at Harrenhal because they were "northmen. My father’s men, and Robb’s", and she will later take on the responsibility of executing Dareon the Night's Watch deserter just as she had seen (albeit not firsthand) her father do as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. It is, rather, a statement of dynastic feudalism at its most basic level: the devoted service of vassals in exchange for the protection of their lieges.

For Harwin, however, this way of thinking no longer reflects either his personal experiences or his outlook. Harwin not only experienced firsthand at the Mummer's Ford the downfall of aristocratic leadership - as he tells Arya, he saw "the Mountain slay Raymun Darry with a single blow so terrible that it took Darry’s arm off at the elbow and killed the horse beneath him too", and watched Gladden Wylde and Lord Mallery die there as well - but witnessed its failure secondhand as well: while still in the field ostensibly against Tywin, Harwin faced the paradox that "[w]e’d been sent out by the King’s Hand to deal with outlaws … but now we were the outlaws, and Lord Tywin was the Hand of the King". With "the whole world [turned] on its head", Beric Dondarrion provided an answer, one aimed at the very heart of their original mission: they "were still king’s men ... and these were the king’s people the lions were savaging", so "[i]f [they] could not fight for Robert, [they] would fight for them". Ideologically as well as martially baptized at the Mummer's Ford, Harwin has found a new purpose, one not dependent on a feudal framework.

In other words, Robb's cause - that is, the political and personal Stark cause - may be important to Arya, but it is no longer important to Harwin - and that is a radical idea to introduce to one so used to the aristocratic order, and by extension to readers. It is easy to see Robb as the hero, or at least a hero, of the story: the firstborn son of the beloved Starks, fighting in the name of his wrongfully killed father, a precociously talented and inevitably victorious young king who should triumph over the cruel, antagonistic Tywin Lannister. Yet while the author certainly does not deny Robb's importance in the story, he includes this moment with Harwin as a reminder that the world of Westeros is more than its aristocratic conflicts. Tywin's terror agents in the Riverlands may not feature prominently in Tywin's mind (beyond as part of his overall military strategy), and those northmen exacting horrific punishments on pro-Lannister smallfolk in the same area may not be known at all to Robb, yet their effect on ordinary people is nevertheless devastating. Arya has the aristocratic privilege to prioritize her family's struggle - but as Harwin notes, that aristocratic privilege comes with "many a great lord to bend the knee", a defense the much-harried smallfolk do not enjoy.

As far as the ransom goes ... I would guess that Harwin and the Brotherhood were in this moment betting on the Starks prizing Arya's safe return over the semi-defection of their former sworn man - perhaps not a bad bet, given Robb's then-current lack of legitimate heirs. And that's assuming Robb and Catelyn would even have known that Harwin was involved, of course, which is far from certain; who knows what agent the Brotherhood would have used to approach the Stark-Tully forces at Riverrun with the offer of Arya's ransom.

#asoiaf meta #asos #harwin #arya stark

[moondancer71]

Do you prefer to write dialogue between characters or inner monologue? Is there dialogue/monologue that you’ve written that has stuck with you? What dialogue/monologue that you’ve written has been the most challenging?

Hi Anon, thanks again for another ask! ☺️

Overall, I would say much of my posted work tends to lean toward internal monologue and that I am usually most comfortable writing that. Dialogue is still one of the areas that I work most on or often takes me the longest.

I put the answers below the cut as it’s a bit long. 

So some dialogue/monologue scenes that I've enjoyed writing the most thus far are:

In the Land of Gods and Monsters (I know I reference this fic a lot, but I love it 🥹😭). I like the inner monologue here as I think it has a good rhythm or flow and I thought it was sharp enough for a closing scene.

It’s not really goodbye, though. Her fate and future is forever bound with Jon because of her role in the pack. She’ll never escape him and she isn’t sure she’ll ever forgive him, so they’ll have to learn how to just exist.

As she drives to the airport, watching the Winterfell gates fade in the rearview mirror, she thinks everyone has the ability to be a god or a monster.

The only question is, will it be in the harsh light of day, or beneath the cover of the moon?

 Lure Me to Hell. I really enjoyed writing the below scene in first chapter as I liked the back and forth dynamic between Jon and Dany and because it felt like a cool reversal of when Jon and Dany first meet in the Dragonstone throne room in S7.

“You should speak more sweetly to me, after all, I am making you a queen.”

“A queen of the dead,” she bit back.

“A queen all the same. I think you will come to find the dead are much easier to rule than the living,” he smirked.

“I never asked for this,” she said, moving closer, her gaze never leaving his.

“Neither did I. Yet here we are.”

Her rebuke lingered on her tongue, yet she refrained when sadness flashed across his eyes and she realized that they were speaking of two different matters. She is here because of him, yet she does not know the circumstances that made him the man who now stands before her.

His eyes narrowed, but not a moment later his steely expression returned. “Forgive me. You must be tired from your travels. I’ll have Davos show you to your room, where your handmaidens wait for you. I had a new dress made for you for dinner tonight,” he said as he returned to his throne, his tone inviting no disagreement.

“So am I your prisoner? Bound to heed your commands?” she called out, feeling her ire rise.

He stopped and she saw his body tense and his right hand clench at the word prisoner. Turning his head slightly, he replied, “You are not my prisoner. You are to be my wife.”

“Is there a difference?”

“There is. Perhaps you would like to ask the souls that reside in the lowest of the Seven Hells.”

The dialogue scene that has been most difficult to write is also from Lure, chapter 3, when Jon meets with the Fates. It's really the first time I've done an extensive group scene with multiple characters so I had to focus on balancing each character’s “screen time,” and making sure all of their contributions were substantive and moved the scene and plot along.

#ask moon #moon writes

[jackoshadows]

It would be so funny if Jon and Arya don't get along with Sansa ever and Sansa becomes distant from her family cuz everyone here would freak out lol they always talk about sansa like she is the starkest of the starks, I mean I think I saw a new stark source blog and their first edit was sansa, of course. It's really funny to me.

I saw that blog, checked it out and of course a blog called Northsource will be 80% about Sansa 🤣🤣🤣.

I would assume a source blog about the North would have majority posts about characters who actually have a story in the North for 5 books like Jon or Bran or the Northern factions against the Boltons, the politics of fake Arya and Stannis' march to Winterfell, the squid infestion, Asha and Theon Greyjoy, the Manderlys and the North remembers, the mountain clans marching for Ned's little girl, Alys Karstark and the Thenns, the happenings at the Wall, Bran's ACoK arc in Winterfell, his journey beyond the wall, Meera and Jojen Reed, Rickon and Osha, cannibals on skagos, Davos on the three sisters etc. etc. There's so much story and plot there.

But yeah, let's have another Stark sister's foreva post. Saw that, immediately blocked and moved on. I mean, why not just name it Starksource or Winterfellsource and make it about Sansa or even Sansasource. How do you have a blog called Northsource and make it about Sansa?! It’s so misleading.

Reminds me of the blog called Valyriansource run by people who dislike Daenerys and is mostly about Westeros and the Starks! This fandom lol.

#asks

[succubusphan]

A Rose of Winter - Epilogue

Summary: All Daniel wanted to do was escape the stifling life as a Stark of Winterfell and travel the world. Between the looming threat North of The Wall and the den of lions in the capital, he unexpectedly finds love in the midst of a war set to tear Westeros apart. Caught between loyalty to his family and duty, he is torn in a thousand directions that all point to one man: Philip Flowers.

Rating: E (There are only a few smut scenes but it's an M for battles, war, and other adult topics)

Tags/warnings: I removed most triggers (no R or SA, no minors involved in sex, no gore). It does include: Deaths either written without details or in a poetic way if it's an important character (Dan and Phil, Ghost and Balerion will live but everyone else is fair game). Strangers to lovers, Slow Burn, missing each other. The prophecies and stories foreshadowed are fulfilled, a satisfying ending to the entire story without plot holes. Extreme canon divergence. Dan and Phil are not replacing characters, they were written in. GAME OF THRONES AU

Author's Note: This is my OSPBB 2022, Couldn't have done it without my betas @effingmeteors and @filisaceaf.

Word Count: Each chapter will be around 15k and have at least one Dan or Phil pov. The total wc is about 210k.

Read on Ao3

The aftermath of the Long Night was shocking in so many ways. As the sun rose above Westeros, those who survived had to walk around Winterfell in search of their loved ones. There was a sense of relief in knowing the world had lived to see another day without the threat of impending doom hanging over their heads but the pain was too great.

The first thing they saw in the Courtyard was Viserion, unmoving, his jaws still clutching on the Ice Dragon’s neck. Beside them, Nymeria and Greywind lay to rest, probably gone to join their masters in the afterlife if there was such a thing.

Once those who had been evacuated were able to return, pyres were set outside the castle walls to honour the dead: Jorah, Benjen, Sam, Edd, Ser Davos and Ser Jaime. Tormund had to be the one to carry Bran and Arya because Jon was badly injured and Dan was too broken to even hold himself up. 

Melisandre had helped those who were on the verge of death before succumbing as she had used all of her magic. Kinvara had also given her life to help others; Lyanna Mormont had helped carry her to the pyre herself to thank her for her sacrifice. The girl had changed quite a bit when magic had stopped her from turning into a wight: half of her hair was ice white and one of her eyes bright blue, but her mind seemed to be untouched.

Jon had to face Gilly and tell her that he had failed Sam once again and beg for her forgiveness but she shook her head, telling her that Sam had arranged for them to go live with his mother and sister, but upon finding the response letter in his belongings, she noticed he never intended to go. He had apologised to his mother in advance for not being able to see her again and had listed little Sam and the child she was carrying as his heirs. She was devastated to lose her love but she was surrounded by people who were willing to help her and she had a family waiting for her as well.

After they had all said their goodbyes, the pyres were set ablaze. It was then that Daenerys broke and had to be taken inside.

PHIL

It took almost two weeks for people to be ready to celebrate, every loss still present. Empty chairs at every table, entire generations wiped completely and only a few of them to tell the tale of the heroes that saved Westeros.

After a long talk, Dan and Phil decided not to make a separate celebration for their wedding, choosing to join the feast in the Great Hall and enjoy some time with their friends and family. Still, Jon and Danny made a toast to their union, every person in assistance banging their mugs on the tables and cheering for them. Many things happened that night; many stories came together and new ones began. Tormund had been nothing but attentive to Brienne and they had bonded over the grief for their loved ones, often training together, or exploring the North on horseback along with the surviving free folk.

Life didn’t stop for any of them and soon it was time to decide the fate of Westeros. The representatives of every House sat down to discuss matters and came to the conclusion that having a sole King or Queen for the Seven Kingdoms was far too complicated and called for constant conflict. To reign half a continent away was simply too hard for the Southern Kings and people were no longer inclined to follow blindly. And so, the Kingdoms were assigned to their Houses in accordance with a cooperative alliance. 

Every Kingdom needed resources from the others, so a system of exchange and loans was agreed upon as well as who would be running the vacant castles. Highgarden already had Shireen Baratheon in line for it. The Iron Islands would go to Yara, who had already passed the test and paid the Iron Price according to her costumes. Casterly Rock had no other heirs than Tyrion, who named Tommen his heir in turn. The North was awarded to Sansa after Jon and Dan declined the title. It was a hard decision, but after legitimising Gendry as a Baratheon and awarding him Storm’s End, Daenerys stepped back from King’s Landing and The Iron Throne, letting Renly become King along with Loras. She gladly retained the title of Protector of the Realm per Renly’s request, and it was done; the wheel was finally broken, even if it was not in the way she had imagined it.

Danny had lost enough in the name of war but she still had a lot more to lose, which Phil reminded her of, even if she didn’t want to listen at first. Jon had survived the Long Night, but he would never fight again, his shoulders were beyond repairing and he could barely lift his arms. He made progress every day, hoping to be strong enough to hold their child by the time he was born, but it was still too soon to know. Grey Worm had recovered faster than him, but Missandei still cared for him months after, promising to take him to Naath once he was better.

Daenerys wed Jon in King’s Landing inviting everyone in the city to celebrate with them. It was a happy day after so much sorrow. She talked to those who wanted to talk to her, promising to return when her health allowed it and help those in need as her brother Rhaegar had done so many years ago. 

After the Long Night, Phil noticed this sense of sorrow washing over her, having lost Jorah, most of her Unsullied and all her bloodriders, having to bring nothing but ashes back to the Dothraki women and children who awaited the men. It was only natural that Dan and him would stay with her, trying to comfort her. 

Dan and Phil took the months leading to the birth of Danny’s child to talk about their future, now that there was one and decided to travel, see the world, and just live. They all led a quiet life on Dragonstone eagerly, waiting to meet the new member of the family, the start of a new generation, and the night he finally came into the world, there was a storm so strong Phil thought the waves would flood the castle, even if it was atop the mountain. 

After hours in labour, Danny held her beautiful boy, Aemon, in her arms. She looked out the window and saw the spray that looked almost like smoke coming from below and smelt the salt of the sea. Smiling, she placed the baby on the bed beside Jon, and with her hands still bloody, she touched the dragon egg in the fire. Then, she asked Dan, Phil and Jon to give their blood as well but when nothing happened she picked the afterbirth and threw it into the fire, watching raptly as the egg hatched. She smiled at Phil as she gifted him the small dragon.

--

Sansa waited a few months to make things official so that everyone could attend. The Queen in the North was crowned and that same week, Margaery and her wedded in a public ceremony under the weirwood tree, winter roses all around as they had become the symbol of union between houses Stark and Tyrell.

Happiness was finally making its way back to people’s hearts. The feast was perfect; full of laughter, music and dancing and nobody was happier than Lady Olenna Tyrell, who had been waiting eagerly for the celebration.

“Your oaf father would be proud to see you as a Queen and married to someone you love. You have done it right this time,” she had said. “I saw it through, as I promised. Everything is as it should be.”

Phil had found it odd to receive an invitation to dance and a tight hug from his grandmother, but enjoyed it nonetheless. It wasn’t until hours later, when he tried to wake her from her nap, that he knew that it had been her final goodbye. He cried and laughed at the fact that the Queen of Thorns had survived the end of the world, seen his grandchildren reach powerful positions and left on her own terms.

DAN

Pentos, Essos.

Dan walked over to Phil and sat on the vacant chair, looking out to the Narrow Sea. He let out a deep sigh and smiled, closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth of the sun. He couldn’t decide if the sound of the seagulls was relaxing or unnerving.

“Dracarys,” said Phil at his beautiful baby dragon, still no larger than a cat, and Dan opened his eyes in time to watch it cook a piece of chicken before eating it whole. The sunrays made his black scales shine in purples and greens.

“Aww, very good! You are a smart boy,” Dan said to Jaehrion. Balerion howled sadly at his side. “Why are you wet?” He asked and his wolf tried - unsuccessfully - to hide behind Phil.

“He was hot and went for a swim in the fountain,” Varys said from his own chair, just behind theirs; Illyrio Mopatis drinking wine happily at his side. “I guess one can’t blame a direwolf for being too hot in this weather.”

Dan rolled his eyes at him.

“That has to be the most spoiled pet I’ve ever seen,” Tyrion said, pouring himself another glass of wine. 

“Don’t you have a painting of Ser Pounce in your dining hall?” Dan asked, Balerion cowering at the name. “Oh, stop, he’s not here!”

“That is different, the cat is not mine and Ser Pounce keeps the castle free from mice. He is very hard working.”

“Who had the painting commissioned?” Phil asked with a smirk.

“Well - it was me, but it was a present for Tommen. I thought it would cheer him up,” Tyrion said.

“A great choice, my friend,” said Varys.

“Did you ever think we would be here, enjoying the Essos weather without a care in the world?” Dan asked.

“No,” said everyone.

“Here in Pentos or here on a trip together?” Asked Tyrion.

“Either… both.”

“No. The only person I imagined here with me is no longer alive,” he said.

“You could still find love,” Phil said.

“No, it’s too much of a risk. I’ll leave that to Tommen, now that he has taken the name Lannister, he must pass it on. That responsibility is out of my hands at least.”

“You should have invited him,” Dan said.

“He’s 19 years old, he doesn’t want to go on a trip with his uncle. Podrick will keep him company until my return and if he’s bored I’m sure Bronn can entertain him at The Twins. There’s plenty of young widowed women over there and frequent parties now.”

Phil looked out to the sea for a moment before turning to Dan. “We are almost 28 years old.”

“I am almost 27, speak for yourself, old man,” Dan said.

Tyrion downed his wine glass and mumbled he was 36.

“Lord Varys?” Phil asked.

“Oh, you will never make me say it, Lord Targaryen.”

Jaehrion chose that moment to cough a ball of fire on Phil’s pants which he tried to pat away but failed, resulting in him jumping into the fountain, Balerion joining him soon after. Dan laughed. Life was good.

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #phan au #succubusphan fics #game of thrones #got fic #ospbb 2022

[findroleplay]

30+. She/Her. Looking for 18+ (preferably 21+) writing partners for some fandom roleplays. 

I'll list my fandoms and some of my favorite ships from them (with the character in bold and colored, if there is one, the one I'd prefer to write). None of the lists are exhaustive. I'm open to other ships and can write more characters (and might be willing to try new ones) than are listed. So feel free to suggest anything to me. Having said that, though, I'm mainly looking for canon x canon pairings (MxM, MxF, or FxF). I'm willing to listen to OCs you might have but I only want to do MxM ships there. And I like canon/canon divergent plots. No AUs that are way out there.

NSFW/smut isn't necessary for these. I'm definitely open to writing it or of just fading to black or keeping things strictly SFW. I don't have any triggers so I'm fine with doing pretty much anything.

My preferred place to write is Discord but I can work other ways out with you. And I like to stick to Tumblr messages for plotting purposes because I'm more active over here than on Discord. 

Anything with an exclamation point next to it (!) is something I'm very interested in doing, and the fandoms are listed from what I'm most interested in doing stuff with to least interested but I'll still do it. 

Game of Thrones:

Beric x Thoros, Bronn x Jaime, Dany x Jorah!, Dany x Jon, Dany x Sansa, Dany x Margaery!, Jaime x Cersei!, Margaery x Sansa, Margaery x Joffrey, Margaery x Stannis!, Petyr x Sansa, Robb x Theon, Robb x Jon, Roose x Stannis!, Roose x Tywin!, Roose x Sansa!, Sansa x Tyrion, Sansa x Stannis!, Stannis x Davos!, Stannis x Melisandre, Tywin x Aerys, Tywin x Shae

Grand Theft Auto V:

Devin x Steve!, Devin x Michael, Devin x Franklin, Michael x Trevor, Michael x Dave, Michael x Steve, Steve x Dave!, Steve x Trevor, Trevor x Ron

Grand Theft Auto IV:

Dimitri x Niko!, Dimitri x Faustin!, Gerry x Niko!, Gerry x Packie, Faustin x Niko!, Niko x Packie!, Niko x Ray!, Niko x Brucie, Ray x Jimmy, Roman x Bernie  

Saw Franchise:

Hoffman x Strahm!, Hoffman x Amanda, Schenk x Zeke!

Halloween Franchise:

Michael x Loomis!, Michael x Allyson, Michael x Tommy (H6 Tommy ; not HK)

Middle-earth/Tolkien Universe:

Bard x Thranduil!, Bofur x Bilbo, Boromir x Aragorn, Boromir x Faramir, Celeborn x Haldir, Elrond x Glorfindel!, Elrond x Lindir!

Scream Franchise:

Amber x Tara, Amber x Richie, Amber x Mindy, Billy x Stu, Dewey x Gale!, Dewey x Randy!, Dewey x Roman, Jill x Charlie, Jill x Kirby, Mickey x Derek, Mickey x Randy!, Mickey x Tatum, Richie x Sam

The Walking Dead:

Beth x Daryl!, Beth x Rick, Beth x Negan, Gabriel x Negan, Gabriel x Rosita, Gareth x Rick, Merle x Glenn!, Merle x Daryl!, Merle x Milton, Merle x Andrea, Merle x The Governor, Negan x Rick!, Negan x Simon, Jesus x Daryl!, Jesus x Aaron, Shane x Rick!, Shane x Lori, Simon x Gregory!

Supernatural: 

Ketch x Mick!, Ketch x Dean!, Azazel x John, Azazel x Sam, Benny x Dean, Chuck x Sam!, Chuck x Dean, Dean x Lucifer, Dean x Crowley!, Dean x Garth, Dean x Bela, Lucifer x Sam!, Mick x Sam

Harry Potter Universe:

Barty Crouch Jr. x Draco (18+ for his age), Dumbledore x Grindelwald (Fantastic Beasts era only)!, Lockhart x Quirrell!, Snape x Lucius, Snape x Harry (18+ for his age)!, Snape x Lupin, Snape x Lily

If interested, like this post and I'll message you or message me!

I strongly prefer that you message me first because lately, whenever I reach out first, I never hear back from people. If you reach out first, then I know for sure that you're interested in working something out.

-

#game of Thrones rp #gta v rp #grand theft auto rp #gta iv rp #saw franchise rp #halloween franchise rp #tolkien universe rp #the walking dead rp #scream franchise rp #supernatural rp #harry potter rp

[amuelia]

Wonder how Rickon and Osher are doin.. I find it hard to believe Ramsey would get through Osher and Shaggy Dog, never mind even find them, like in the show

I also think that this is a TV show invention... The Show did not adapt Davos' travels or his time in White Harbor, so they shortened the story by having Osha and Rickon show up in Last Hearth which the books suggest in early chapters:

Thinking of Osha made Bran wonder where she was. He pictured her safe in White Harbor with Rickon and Shaggydog, eating eels and fish and hot crab pie with fat Lord Manderly. Or maybe they were warming themselves at the Last Hearth before the Greatjon's fires. - Bran II, aSoS

They likely looked for a way to cut Rickon's story, so that they have less characters to focus on (later seasons culled a lot of characters to make the story smaller, like Mance Rayder or the Tyrells). As you see in a later quote, they did not have a lot of interest in adapting Rickon from the beginning.

However in the books, Davos is sent to Skagos to retrieve Rickon.

Grrm has promised unicorns, so we will likely have some chapters on Skagos (since they live there):

Martin: “I have an interesting take on unicorns coming up in the new books. [smiles] Oops.” - Grrm in an interview with Neil deGrasse Tyson

And yes, there will be unicorns… of a sort… - Notablog, May 20 2019

And he also hints that we will see Osha again:

The only actress who’s really made me rethink a character is Natalia Tena as Osha. She’s younger, more attractive and more dynamic than I had initially written that character. And, when Osha comes back into the story, as I hope that she will, I’m definitely going to take that into account. - Grrm for Collider

Grrm also said that he had big plans for Rickon, so likely there is more in store for him, since he still did not really have his time to shine in the books:

"The biggest thing was Dan and David called me up and had the idea of eliminating Rickon, the youngest of the Stark children, because he didn't do much in the first book," [...] "I said I had important plans for him, so they kept him." - Grrm for Fire Cannot Kill A Dragon

And he also promised more Rickon pre-aDwD:

[Willl Hot Pie, Gendry, Nymeria, Rickon and Shaggy be seen again or mentioned in A Dance with Dragons, or later in the series?]

Later in the series? Yes, to all of them. In DANCE? Yes to some, no to others. - SSM April 6, 2008

It is a little hard to guess what exactly will happen in this storyline in tWoW, since the TV show completely left it out. We do have some buildup for Skagos (It features especially prominently in an aFfC Sam chapter), and it seems like mainland Westerosi generally have a bad opinion of it:

The island sat at the mouth of the Bay of Seals, massive and mountainous, a stark and forbidding land peopled by savages. They lived in caves and grim mountain fastnesses, Sam had read, and rode great shaggy unicorns to war. [...] Some songs said the Skaggs were cannibals; supposedly their warriors ate the hearts and livers of the men they slew. - Samwell II, aFfC

The galleys Oledo and Old Mother's Son had been driven onto the rocks of Skagos, the isle of unicorns and cannibals where even the Blind Bastard had feared to land [...]. - Davos I, aDwD

"The Umbers keep the first night too, deny it as they may. Certain of the mountain clans as well, and on Skagos … well, only heart trees ever see half of what they do on Skagos." - Reek III, aDwD

I believe grrm then wants us to see the "true" Skagos, similar to how Wildlings are stereotyped as "savages" and enemies but Jon then gets a view into their culture. We will likely get at least a chapter or two on Skagos that gives us the worldbuilding Grrm came up with, as well as the Unicorns. The Skagosi are a highly isolated people with a fearsome reputation, so since Osha saw it as a good idea to go there for shelter, she likely has some connection to the people there.

One hint for what might happen with Rickon and Davos is the fact that Rickon's wolf is named Shaggydog, which is also the name of a literary trope where we have a long story with many turns that has a meaningless/anticlimactic ending. Interesting to me is the alleged archetypical story after which the trope is named:

According to Partridge and the Morrises, the archetypical shaggy dog story involves an advertisement placed in the Times announcing a search for a shaggy dog. In the Partridge story, an aristocratic family living in Park Lane is searching for a lost dog, and an American answers the advertisement with a shaggy dog that he has found and personally brought across the Atlantic, only to be received by the butler at the end of the story who takes one look at the dog and shuts the door in his face, saying, "But not so shaggy as that, sir!" - Wikipedia article on the Shaggy Dog Story

If we apply this to asoiaf, the aristocrat searching for his dog is Wyman Manderly, and Davos is the man who finds the Shaggydog and personally brings it to him across the ocean. However at the end of the original story, his travel was pointless because they do not want the Shaggydog that he brought them. So perhaps, when Davos finally finds Rickon and brings him home through many dangers, he will not even be needed anymore, because there are already some other Starks in the north (maybe Sansa and/or Jon). And so Rickon's story, where people thought he might be an important political tool as the Stark heir and potential puppet leader, comes to an anticlimactic ending.

I find it unlikely that Ramsay is going to be involved in Rickon's story, since Davos is likely going to spend a while on his travels. It seems to me like Davos and Rickon will reenter the northern story much later.

#asoiaf #rickon stark #osha #asoiaf meta #not art #asks #anonymous #valyrianscrolls #long post