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lya-dustin · 1 year

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Seasons of my love

Bridgeton!Au! Loosely based on S.2 of Bridgeton where the Male!Reader is Anthony and Aemond is Kate Sharma basically.

It was supposed to be heterosexual, but that felt too basic, so have some gays in love this Sunday instead.

Gif by @gameofthronesdaily

Taglist: @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly

It was heard from the Lonely Light to Asshai by the Shadow that if a man wants to court the princess, he must win her brothers’ favor first. So far, no one has been able to secure Prince Aemond’s blessing.

After Helaena and Aegon petitioned their father to stop Ser Otto and the Queen to force them into marriage, court had been filled to the brim with eligible bachelors.

All simpering fools who have the ambition to rival that of his grandsire and none of the personality nor good nature of Laenor, the last man to marry a princess.

Laenor ---despite his degeneracy--- had been knighted in battle, able to charm birds off trees and, most importantly, a dragonrider.

Laenor had also not given a rat’s arse about what his wife did behind closed doors ---or in the stables as Aemond and Aegon discovered a lifetime ago.

This last part is of paramount importance due to what Aemond knows about his beloved sister.

Sweet Helaena should have been named Rhaena, he thinks as he tries to stop mother from hearing his sister calling Lady Elisa Piper her darling wife.

Helaena did not care if her husband loved her or lived that long and often could not discern between friend or foe, so it fell on Aemond to be the shield who protects her from the rakes and Androw Farmans in the lists.

Being her favorite brother and the only one who cares about her wellbeing, was not an easy job, but only he could do it.

Aegon just wanted her married so their dear mama could stop trying to annul his marriage to Cassandra Baratheon.

Daeron was too young and believed the choice should fall on whoever Helaena liked.

Only Rhaenyra backed this scheme of his, horribly enough.

The Princess of Dragonstone is known for having a good eye for men, Ser Criston had grumbled bitterly ---not that Aemond cared to ask for context about his acrimonious feelings towards his elder sister.

She and Daemon would host the suitors in Dragonstone ---she was in confinement due to the imminent birth of her sixth child--- and send him the list of those whose characters they considered good enough for Helaena along with more profuse apologies from her brood of Strong Boys.

The one-eyed prince found himself forgiving Lucerys after the forty-ninth letter written about his guilt and wished to offer his own eye in recompense.

“Perhaps, number nine and forty will win your approval.” Helaena had said as they met this man whom their sister gave a glowing recommendation.

He dressed well, was a knight and a lord.

Lord (Y/N) (L/N) was also handsome, charming and not a piece of dragonshit, or so Daemon had assured him in his letter.

Perfect for my sweet Helaena, Rhaenyra had added in hers.

“You said the same thing about numbers one to eight and forty, mandia.” Aemond said as he eyed you like a horse being brought forth by the horse coursers yesterday.

As usual, the suitor takes great consideration in wooing his sister and trying to establish a sense of friendship with Aemond.

Unlike the rest, however, you take in consideration his likes and dislikes instead of assuming he is into whatever Aegon or the other rakes are into.

You are well-read, amiable, religious but not a zealot and, most importantly, you get along with Helaena like a house on fire.

“They are perfect for each other, don’t you agree?” mother tried her best to get Aemond to like you.

Too perfect.

And while he has become fond of you, dangerously fond of you, Aemond knows he is setting himself, no, his sister for a sure disappointment.

So one night Aemond decides it is time for Aegon’s test.

A test that consists on getting you drunk, asking questions and leave you in a brothel while both brothers come to a verdict.

You don’t drink much, but eventually you are drunk enough to sing a rather scandalous version of Seasons of My Love with him.

One where instead of a maid it is boy.

Aemond finds himself drunk enough to kiss you.

A mistake the both of you blame on the wine.

After all, Aemond is a prince and you are courting his sister.

“I apologize for my behavior, my lord, it won’t happen again.” He had said pretending it was just that. “But I see no reason to deny you my blessings to marry my sister.”

The kiss mean nothing, the prince tells himself even after finding out from Helaena that you prefer men over women and finds her as beautiful as her brother.

It means nothing, Aemond repeats even after he begins to remember how sweet it was.

He claims he feels nothing for you except friendship and yet the wedding day comes and Aemond feels pained enough to try and numb it with wine.

He should not have these feelings for you, he can’t, it goes against nature and the gods of his mother.

But he wants you, wants you in a way he has not wanted a woman or man before.

Aemond makes a toast and cannot keep his eyes away from yours, thinking it unfair that all the qualities he loves about you are on you, a man.

Not just any man, the man married to his favorite sister.

A man he has to pretend is merely a friend for the rest of their lives because the moment Queen Alicent finds out, they are dead.

Later that night, you find him absent-mindedly strumming a lute.

It’s your wedding night, and yet the ones enjoying the bridal chamber are Helaena and her Elissa going by the looks of it.

“Do you take any requests, your highness?” you ask coming to sit beside him.

A dangerous proximity, one where he cannot trust himself to run should his desires and feelings for you get the best of him again.

“Only if its you.” The prince said trying to keep his cool.

“Rather enjoyed that Myrish song the other night. I had hopes to ask for an encore.” You say, hiding your meaning well enough.

“Hmm, what would your bride say?” Aemond knew Helaena had given him the freedom to do as he pleases, but Aemond needs to hear you say it.

“She sees no reason to deny me her blessings to pursue you.” You answer and take advantage of his surprise to return the kiss.

This time it isn’t called a mistake nor blamed on the wine.

This time Aemond dares to do more than just kiss you.

#aemond x male!reader #bridgerton!au #this is for the gays #aemond targaryen x male!reader #hotd reader insert

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catofadifferentcolor · 1 year

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Terrible Fic Ideas #30: A Maiden Dark and Fair, but make it f!Jon/Renly

As some of you may be aware, I have a slight obsession with female Jon Snow fics, in large part because of the pairings it makes possible to secure the Iron Throne. So many interesting houses, so many potential grooms...

To which, I've spent the last several weeks trying to figure out how to make an arranged marriage between a female!Jon Snow and Renly Baratheon work.

Just imagine it:

Robert Baratheon is not a particularly liberally-minded man. He sees his youngest brother prefers men to women and, rather than make other arrangements for the succession of Storm's End, concludes that Renly just hasn't been offered a woman pretty enough.

Bobby B has also always wanted to join his bloodline to House Stark. His son deserves a woman like his own beloved Lyanna to be his queen. Joffrey and Sansa are of age - only Sansa takes after her mother, so that would be like giving his son a Tully bride, no matter how beautiful. Maybe they can betroth Tommen and Arya?

But wait! Ned has a bastard daughter - a beautiful, of-age bastard daughter who is said to be Lyanna come again, Alys. A bastard, yes, but Robert can do a favor for Ned and legitimize the girl and do a favor for Renly by marrying him to the most beautiful woman in Westeros.

Naturally, the only one pleased by this is Robert.

However much all other parties do not want this marriage to happen (Renly has no desire to marry a woman; Alys was intending to become the next Old Nan; Ned is worried someone in the south will see Rhaegar in Alys' features; the other great houses are offended the king's brother is marrying a bastard, &c), Robert does, and it's his opinion that matters.

And so Alys Snow becomes Lady Baratheon of Storm's End.

Much to everyone's surprise, Alys and Renly become friendly on the journey back south. It makes the marriage rather more bearable, but doesn't change the fact that everyone in Westeros expects heirs from them before too long.

There are two ways I can see this going: 1) Alys, being a Northern bastard without recourse to the Wall or the Faith, has spent most of her youth training as a midwife. Before Bobby B got involved, it was her intention never to marry - in part to avoid complicating the succession, in part because she's asexual despite Westeros not having a word for it - and help care for her siblings' children. She takes a very practical view of things, and after some trial and error with a medieval funnel, their problems are solved.

Or: 2) After spending some time together, Alys and Loras get along well enough that the three of them settle into something of a polyamorous relationship. Bi!Loras facilitates sex between his lover and his wife - dealers choice on the details - and while it's nothing any of them would have sought out, it works well enough for them. And if one or two of the kids look more Tyrell than Baratheon? Well, who knows who Alys' mother was anyway?

Fast forward two or three years to the events of canon, with Robert dying (either killed by his wife or his own bad habits) and the War of Five Kings breaking out.

Perhaps Ned still loses his head, but I like the idea he managed to avoid becoming hand of the king and thus was safely in Winterfell at the time.

Perhaps Stannis declares himself as king, but perhaps Alys helps to mend fences between the younger Baratheon brothers. This involves visits to Dragonstone - and the discovery (via dragon egg, a very similar looking portrait, a purple-eyed child, &c) that Alys might have a claim to the Iron Throne.

And so the War of Five Kings becomes a war of two kings (Joffrey and Balon) and a queen.

Bonuses include: 1) Ned not revealing Alys' birthparents until long after she guessed it by other means. This should be an awkward, uncomfortable conversation that Alys by no means makes easy on her uncle followed by some screaming (Alys has a lot of built up anger and resentment about her treatment at Winterfell, however good she might have had it compared to other bastards) and lots of tears; 2) a cache of dragon eggs at Dragonstone, including one that hatches into a dragon that looks completely black except under certain lights, where her scales shine deep purple; and 3) Loras, quite unexpectedly, finding a BFF in his lover's Northern wife. Their relationship should be reminiscent of Kirk and Spock, and at least twice a week Renly should have cause to bemoan the fact his wife and boyfriend get along better than he does with either of them.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back if you do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #got #asoiaf #female jon snow #renly baratheon #loras tyrell #renly x loras #jon snow is a targaryen

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sweetfierceimagines · 2 years

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Dragon & the Wolf, Aemond Targaryen x fem reader (Part 1)

WARNINGS - MAJOR SPOILERS WARNING FROM HOUSE OF THE DRAGON.

Disclaimer : I am basing this fiction on episode 9 of HoTD but I don't intend on being 100% accurate with George R. R. Martin's universe. This is a fiction made for pleasure of reading and imagining scenarios, so please keep that in mind :)

Synopsis: As the Greens took over the Iron Throne, installing Aegon the Second on the highest chair of the Realm, Alicent Hightower starts to plan the aftermath of Rhaenyra finding out. Since she saw Rhaenys flying away, she finds herself in desperate needs of allies, more allies. In this context, she decides to send her son, Aemond, North. His journey might actually wake a new side of his personality.

Viserys was dead, Aegon the Second was born.

Alicent Hightower sat in her chambers, right after the ceremony, thinking about what just happened. Although Aegon seemed to finally accept his position and be grateful for it (which was more than she ever could hope for), Rhaenys had accomplished Helaena's prophecy "there's a beast beneath the boards". And she was most likely flying to dragonstone to break the news to Rhaenyra and Daemon : the Greens were taking over.

Despite Alicent being truly sincere, certain that Viserys had told her to place Aegon on this throne, she didn't want war. But could she avoid it ? Now that the Blacks were about to learn everything through Rhaenys' mouth, she was not sure she could convince her any longer.

She had one thing to do now : protect her children and protect the Realm. And to do that, she needed more allies. Way more.

-You have to do this, Aemond. I trust you can.

Aemond sighed, unhappy do be sent away from Kings Landing during such time.

-Mother. They are coming for us. You need me by your side. I can protect us, I can make them fall. This is not the time to leave. Send Helaena, send your Father, send ..

-This is NOT a negotiation !

Alicent was visibly exhausted and in pain. She had to protect her family, secure her son's position, make sure Otto was not going further in war mongering, and was grieving for her long lost relation with Rhaenyra, who she deeply loved, despite all that happened. Aemond could not understand how much she had on her plate of course, but he was empathetic enough to feel for her. He kneeled in front of her and kindly took her hands.

-I'm sorry Mother. If it is your wish, I shall go North.

She smiled softly and stroke his hair.

-I sometimes forget how much you've grown.. from this child I almost stabbed Rhaenyra's children for, you're now a man, and I know I can trust you.

He nodded his head and stood up.

He was going north.

Aemond left Kings Landing very early on the next day, Sir Criston Cole by his side. Alicent had insisted that he joined.

Although Aemond was truly sure he was best fitted for defending his blood from the Red Keep, he knew that bringing back strong allegiances was the key of their success, for Rhaenyra would attack, and she obviously would have many supporters.

Aemond had never been that up north. The first signs of snow took him out of his thoughts, and he looked around, taking in this very special atmosphere. It was dark yet not gloomy, it had a sens of secret, mystic.

The two men were welcomed at the main gate of Winterfell by the close court of Lord Cregan Stark. They looked very careful, unsure of what this Targaryen boy had in mind.

In the great hall of Winterfell, Lord Cregan was sitting on his throne, waiting for the young prince to state his will.

-My Lords, be assured that the passing of King Viserys is a tragic incident for all of us, up north. He was a good King, wise, measured and thoughtful. He will be missed.

Lord Cregan voluntarily marked a pause.

-My delegate in Kings Landing did inform me of the way things were.. managed. I must say, my Lord Aemond, it was rather unusual and if I may speak the truth, as us northmen are used to doing, not the cleverest idea.

Another pause. Aemond and Criston clenched their jaws. It didn't seem like the best place to look for allies.

-Yet, he bent the knee. Again.

Criston did relax a bit, but Aemond's sole eye was still sharply piercing Lord Cregan Stark's gaze. He finally spoke up :

-On behalf of my Mother the former Queen and of my King, Aegon the Second, I do apologize for such.. process, my Lord Stark. But these times are dark ones. We had to make sure my Father's will would be heard and respected. Many, you see.. doubted my Mother's word.

Lord Cregan smirked.

-Well, doubting it or not, Aegon the Second is King, isn't he ? So it's settled. - Settled. That's a bit hasty. You see..

As he was going to carry on, a woman entered the front door, slightly covered in dirt and her dark hair wet with snow. She was clothed for hunting and carried many weapons. When, as she was walking forward, she realized she interrupted something, she froze a second. Lord Cregan took upon him to explain.

-Y/N, finally. I sent for you to come back as soon and possible, and to inform you of our guests coming. - I'm very sorry Father, I didn't see anyone. But I'm back, I'll just get changed very quickly and be there in a minute. (She turned toward the two guests) My Lords, may you be welcomed in Winterfell.

She then vanished, leaving behind her a smell of grass and wood. Aemond couldn't stop staring at the door for a second, taking in the scent of this woman.

-I'm sorry, my Lords. We were informed quite late of your venue. My daughter was already gone in the woods. - Hunting ? Asked Criston. - Well, she usually brings something back if she sees it fit, but no. She is in charge of Winterfell's security. She was carrying out a recognition mission.

Aemond didn't say a thing. A woman, in charge of safety ? Carrying out missions ? Recognition ? A woman hunter was already something very odd in his world, but one with "men" responsibilities, granted directly by her Father..

Lord Cregan had given them some time off, asking for a little patience as he was gathering lords and advisers on the tough matters to be discussed. Aemond was wandering the halls of Winterfell, surprised that the castle was not utterly cold. He got out, on the rempart, and was met by the woman who previously entered the main hall.

-My Lord, are you lost ?

He could have sincerely said yes in many ways, but simply marked a polite pause before making a few steps toward her. He had been raised in the utter respect of Women, contrary to Aegon.

-I was simply looking around. This castle is nothing like I have seen before, in Kings Landing or in the Tides. - Much darker, I presume ?

He nodded a bit.

-But not in a bad way. Actually, Kings Landing may be bright, but the place is crawling with shadows.

She looked at him for a while. He was very mysterious, almost talking in riddles, but seemed like a descent person. Y/N was not a big fan of Targaryens, mostly because everyone North considered them unmoral and authoritarian, self-centered, power-driven. This one, she was intrigued by.

-Every castles has its shadows. We should be heading back. You didn't come for the great forests, after all.

He didn't answer and simply shifted backward to give her enough space to pass through. He then proceeded to follow her back into the main hall, where a large table had been placed, lords and advisers all around, waiting for the Dragon.

Lord Cregan introduced everyone, and then let Aemond speak of his cause.

-My Ladies, My Lords, I am here today on behalf of our King, Aegon the Second, and of our former King, Viserys. I, Aemond Targaryen, ask for your loyalty toward the Realm to be re-expressed, firmly and openly. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen is likely to disrespect her Father's last will, and try to take power by force, storming Kings Landing and usurping the Throne. She must be fought. She seeks for nothing but fire and blood, war, solely to take over. I trust you will recognize the need to defend our Seven Kingdoms against illegitimacy and deceit.

He sat back down. Everyone was glancing around, not quite daring to say a word.

-My Lord Aemond..

The voice came from a Lord introduced as the protector of territories nearer to the Wall.

-We cannot help but wonder why, Princess Rhaenyra would believe in such.. will. Our King Viserys did nothing but remind us of his desire to see his firstborn daughter rise, from Lords swearing allegiance to expressing her children's right to the Driftmark throne. He.. I mean, without meaning any offense my Lord, but Aegon Targaryen has never been... claimed by King Viserys.

Criston Cole squeezed his swords' knob with anger, but Aemond was still.

-Do you know how I lost my eye, my Lord?

Silence.

-The night Laena Velaryon was sent back to the Gods, I went straight to Vhagar, the largest living dragon alive, and claimed her. I rode this beast that night, and when I came back, the rest of the children were waiting for me to surrender her to them. This night, not only did I make sure Vhagar would be mine and mine only, but I defended what I truly believe in.

Heavier silence.

-Rhaenyra's children are nothing but bastards, and she conducted herself as a shame for her name, for her Father's legacy. Her and Daemon Targaryen were already mating when she was just a girl. Do you really want such people to represent the Sevens ? Do you want a woman who made sure her ... husband.. would never reappear, to be crowned Queen ? Honestly, my Lords, if it was just a question of man or woman, Lady Rhaenys would have be named Queen long time ago. But it's not. It's about temper. And the Black Queen has the temper of a delusional, privileged, war-mongering shameful fool. I'm not surprised that my Father didn't switch his position toward her, she would have completely lost it if he did, and King Viserys was wise. He knew he had to wait that last, very last second to trust his beloved, faithful, moral wife, with his true will : save the Kingdom from his daughter and preserve true blood.

No one spoke up or even moved, too shocked to function. Aemond's words were to be though about, and he had placed much confusion in these people's minds. He turned his gaze to Y/N, who was sitting by her Father's side. She didn't break contact, her face so still it was purely impossible to know wether she was agreeing or not.

The talks after that lasted for a long time. Aemond and Cole surprisingly let the Lords and Ladies speak up their minds, even when coming very close to what could be considered treason. Y/N was observing, letting her Father lead the Stark family. She kept glancing at the silver haired boy, strangely attracted by his coldness.

Later that evening, after food was served and wine eased the mood, Y/N excused herself and left the room, moving quickly in the halls to get lower and lower, towards a secret exit. As she was putting on some protections and fetching her main weapons, she suddenly felt a presence and turned around quickly, meeting her opponent's sword with hers.

It was Aemond Targaryen, looking at her with that ever piecing eye. She put back her sword and kept on preparing herself, until the Prince took a few steps, blocking the exit door.

-What are you doing, exactly?

Her tone was nothing ceremonial, almost rude.

-Tonight is not a night to be going out alone in the woods, my Lady. Much has to be discussed yet. - My Father is well-suited for these talks, I don't think my opinion is required. Please, move away, my Lord. - I will not.

She sighed and shook her head slightly.

-What is it you want, then ? -Your opinion.

She closed her eyes for a moment, sighing more heavily while deciding to remove her gear and head back into the castle, not looking back as she knew Aemond was following closely. She entered her quarters and went straight to serve herself and the Prince cups of light wine. She then sat by the fire, handing him his cup.

-My opinion, huh?

He nodded, the flames dancing in his eye.

-My opinion is that from what I heard, your brother will be a terrible King, where Rhaenyra and Daemon have proven to be worthy of power. Actually, I would have loved for your Mother to be Queen, if it was only based on ability. But since it's not..

She leaned toward him, her face close to his.

-I would rather bend the knee to someone who seem fit for it.

Her honesty could literally cost her life, but Aemond was waiting for nothing less. He couldn't take his eyes off her, and her scent was filling his nose, as she was so close to him. He took it in, taking a long breath, and closing his eye. He then, slowly, very slowly, put his cup down and proceeded to remove his eye patch, letting Y/N discover his true face. A few seconds passed, silent and heavy.

-Aegon is no King material.

He opened his eye again, his scar seeming to move.

-But I am.

Y/N had to remember to breathe, as all this talk was a scandal in too many ways to count.

-You're not even close in line. If Rhaenyra didn't exist, your brother and sister's children would be first. - True. - What's the meaning of all of this ? Why do you ask these questions ? And why do you tell me that ?? - I'd like your support. - I'm not the one deciding for Winterfell's support, my Father is in charge. - I'm not talking about Aegon versus Rhaenyra. This he can deal with. I want your support. Toward me.

His words were spoken with such care, calmness. He was looking at her not as a politician but as a man. Maybe for the first time in his life, he didn't quite know wether if was looking for allies of power or allies of heart.

-You sure are a special man.. She said, looking suspiciously at him. - But I must say.. I'm kind of tempted.

END OF PART 1. Let me know if you enjoyed it :) Part 2 if required

#house of the dragon #HoTD #Targaryen #Aemond #Aegon #Alicient #Aemond Targaryen #imagine #x reader #GOT #game of thrones #winterfell #Stark #fanfiction #fiction #fem reader

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i-drink-and-i-write-fics · 2 years

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The Queen’s Guard

Chapter 6: The Guards

Summary: Myria meets Jorah while she discovers all that happened while she and Olenna were in the Reach.

“Ow! Seven Hells! Be careful with that needle!”

Archmaester Marwyn rolled his eyes. “I didn’t realize such a brave warrior was a summer child.”

Myria scowled. “I’ve seen my fair share of winters. That does not dull the needle’s pain.”

“How many have you seen?” Marwyn questioned as he changed the stitching on her wound.

Myria mused. “I would venture to say I have seen seven winters. Each seemingly longer than the last.”

“So it has been foretold in the old texts. Soon the Long Night will be upon us.”

“And if that were to happen?”

“It will be a time to thank the Gods you are in the South.”

“Winter comes for all the realms and the Long Night will be no different.”

The archmaester looked up with a bit of surprise in his eyes. “No, I suppose it will not be. Does this worry you?”

“Only if the Long Night turns out to be true.”

“How could it not? Dragons have returned to the Known World after dying off three hundred years ago. Dragon glass candles light the halls in the Citadel. Magic is returning.”

Myria shifted uneasily. Men she could fight. But these Others? What if mortal weapons could not harm them?

Marwyn continued. “The King in the North believes this to be true.”

“King in the North?” She remembered Tyrion mentioned him months ago, but hadn’t thought it true. “I wasn’t aware there was a new one after what happened to Robb Stark.”

“Funny you should say that. It’s Robb’s bastard brother, Jon. And he’s here with his…Hand? Advisor at the least, Ser Daavos Seaworth.”

“The Onion Knight? How did a man of the South end up as an advisor to the King in the North?”

“I’m afraid you will have to find out yourself. Now, hold still so I can finish. Lady Olenna has been after me to heal you as quickly as possible.”

Myria chuckled. “The Queen of Thorns will always get her way.”

Soon Myria was back to hobbling around the halls of Dragonstone, trying to speed her recovery along. She always hated the time it took to heal. Her mobility to fight was limited, making her vulnerable to any enemy. Before she found herself in High Garden, Myria would burrow away in some hideout as she healed. A place she would have set up if she believed she was staying anywhere for longer than a month. As a result, there were many abandoned ‘rat holes’ all over Essos and parts of the Stormlands.

She was stepping around a sharp corner and came face to face with a man she didn’t recognize. Her dagger was instantly out despite her being a little off-balance. The man just raised his hands to show he wasn’t a threat. He was dressed in black leather armor that was lined with fur, had a bear sigil on the breastplate, and his face was calm. His blonde hair had bits of grey and wrinkles around his eyes. He was handsome, in an older gentleman's way.

“Forgive me,” came his deep, gravelly voice, “I did not mean to startle you.”

The voice hit at the back of Myria’s mind. “Do I know you?”

He bowed slightly as he spoke. “Ser Jorah Mormont, formerly of Bear Island. I serve Queen Daenerys.”

Myria furrowed her eyebrows. “You do? Forgive me, Ser, but I do not remember meeting you.”

“I arrived while you and Lady Olenna were securing the Reach. Our queen ordered me…on a separate task before I joined her in the Seven Kingdoms.”

He was a little invasive in his answer, but if he was one of the queen’s men, who was Myria to judge? At least, not until she had two working legs. She slowly put the dagger away.

“Forgive my quick hands. At times I forget where I am. My name is Myria Storm and I am the personal guard of Lady Olenna.”

“I know. I was there on the beach when you arrived with your lady.”

Then it clicked. “You were the man who help Grey Worm carry me inside. Thank you.”

Tyrion came up the hall at that moment. “Ah, the exact two people I was sent to find. Come, our queen is holding a council meeting and she needs her advisors.”

They followed Tyrion to Daenery’s war room, Jorah keeping pace with Myria’s limp. At first, she was bothered by it as she was used to walking alone. But soon she could tell he was making sure she didn’t take a step back in recovery. When a door unexpectedly opened, Jorah pulled her out of the way so her injured leg wouldn’t be hit.

“Thank you.”

Inside the room, Olenna was sitting at one end of the long desk, Daenerys at the other, and two unknown gentlemen sitting in between them. Yara and Ellaria must still be finding a way to get the Dornish army north without crossing Euron on the seas. Jorah moved to stand at Daenerys’s right while Tyrion moved to stand at her left. Myria limped over to Olenna, who immediately handed her a spare cane.

Myria raised an eyebrow. “Have I been demoted to holding your canes?”

“You could only wish you were so lucky,” Olenna sassed back. “This is for you. I won’t have you hobbling around making that wound worse.”

“Only if I get to club people with it.”

“Only if your aim is as good as mine.”

Myria smirked as she took the cane. “If I could be so lucky.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Myria saw Jorah smirk at the exchange. Tyrion cleared his throat.

“If we could, Lady Olenna.” She nodded her head. “First, Myria, we want to express our gratitude in getting Lady Olenna out of High Garden in one piece.”

Daenerys took over. “As well as the lovely gift you have given me.”

Myria raised an eyebrow. “Gift, Your Grace?”

Daenerys nodded her head towards Grey Worm - who had been off to the side. He walked over to the large wooden table next to Myria and dropped the item down with a loud thud. The gold gleamed in the sunlight that came in through the windows. It was Jaime Lannister’s golden hand.

Myria couldn’t help her jaw dropping. “I- I did not realize I had kept that when fleeing the keep.”

Olenna chuckled. “I took it from your hands when you were forced to carry me through the secret halls so we could escape quicker.”

Tyrion looked uncomfortably at the hand before continuing on. “There is more we will need to catch you up on. Because of your thinking, only parts of the fleet were destroyed by Euron before Her Grace and her dragons burned half of his fleet. He has fled back to the Iron Islands to regroup. The South remains a fortress and the Dornish are free to travel north. Though, to be safe they are taking the King’s Road.”

“Glad to hear we’ve been successful on those fronts. And I see we have new faces as well in the war room.”

Tyrion nodded. “You already met Ser Jorah.”

Myria nodded her head in the knight’s direction.

“And this is Jon Snow, King in the North, and his advisor, Ser Daavos Seaworth.”

“Your Grace, it’s a pleasure.”

Jon Snow seemed uncomfortable at the title and Daenerys seemed to stiffen a bit. There seemed to have been more that Myria had missed while in the Reach, but she could find out from the Spider later.

The King in the North nodded his head in awkward acknowledgment. “Thank you.”

“If I may, though, I’ve never known a Northerner - King, Lord, or otherwise - to travel this far south. Especially to Dragonstone, given the family history.”

Tyrion tried to hide a grimace at the reference while Daenerys seemed to remember that she still had to earn back her family’s grace and relaxed a bit more.

Jon sighed. “I’ve come to ask for dragon glass. The Great War is coming.”

Chapter 7

Tagging Crew:

Everything

@itsafansworld07

@that-chick212

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@liadamerondjarin

GoT

@harpers-ramblings

The Queen’s Guards

@of-stars-and-pens

#fan fic #fanfic #the queen's guard #queen’s guard #jorah mormont x original female character #jorah mormont #original female character #game of thrones #got #cw: canon typical violence #canon divergence

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sebeth · 1 year

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The World Of Ice & Fire/Fire & Blood: Aegon’s Conquest - The Crownlands (Revised 1/1/23)

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

We left off with the sending of Aegon’s ravens: “From this day forth there would be but one king in Westeros. Those who bent the knee to Aegon of House Targaryen would keep their lands and titles. Those who took up arms against him would be thrown down, humbled, and destroyed.”

Aegon and his sisters set sail from Dragonstone with a modest host – some say it consisted of three thousand sworn swords, some say three hundred. The host landed on the mouth of the Blackwater Rush, “on the northern bank where three wooded hills rose above a small fishing village.”

In the days of the Hundred Kingdoms, this area of land had been claimed by numerous petty kings, most notably the Darklyn Kings of Duskendale, the Masseys of Stonedance, and the River Kings (Mudds, Fishers, Brackens, Blackwoods, Hooks). The river mouth was now claimed by both Storm’s End and Harrenhall but remained undefended. The lesser lords in the area had little love or loyalty to Harren the Black, their nominal overlord.

Aegon threw up a log-and-earth palisade and sent his sisters to secure the nearby castles. Rhaenys, with her dragon Meraxes, secured the submission of Rosby. Visenya, with her dragon Vhaegar, secured Stokeworth after a token resistance.

The first true resistance to the Conquest came from Lord Darklyn of Duskendale and Lord Mooton of Maidenpool. The two lords joined forces and marched south with three thousand men.

Aegon sent Orys Baratheon to deal with the land forces while he flew overhead on Balerion. Lord Darklyn and Lord Mooton were slain in a one-sided battle. Darklyn’s son and Moonton’s brother yielded their castles and swore their swords to House Targaryan. Duskendale was the principal Westerosi port and had become wealthy from the trade that passed through its harbor. Visenya didn’t allow the town to be sacked but made sure to claim its riches for the Targaryens.

The beginning of the conquest has been cleverly laid out by Aegon. He didn’t begin his invasion until Argilac mutilated his envoy – a clear provocation. He made a big show of entering a sept and beseeching the gods for guidance – despite not being a pious man. He offered the chance of surrender and the ability to retain their lands and titles. Aegon kept the battles short with low casualties and no sacking of defeated towns. If this was modern setting, Aegon would be considered very media savvy – he clearly understands the importance of public perception.

Aegon built a crude earth-and-wood castle, called the Aegonfort, in what would later be known as Aegon’s High Hill. Aegon was unusual in that he chose to reside in a wood fort rather than one of the conquered castles.

By this point, Aegon had conquered a dozen castles, the primary Westerosi port, and secured the mouth of the Blackwater Rush. He decided now would be a perfect time to hand out rewards to his supporters:

· Daemon Velaryon, Lord of the Tides, was made Master of Ships

· Triston Massey, Lord of Stonedance, was named Master of Laws

· Crispian Celtigar became the Master of Coin

· Orys Baratheon was proclaimed by Aegon as “my shield, my stalwart, my strong right hand” and became the Hand of the King

Aegon also decided that when in Westeros, do as the Westerosi do and unveiled a heraldic banner: a red three-headed dragon breathing fire upon a black field.

We can assume the dragon on Aegon’s had three heads as a nod to his sisters, but I do wonder how old the “dragon must have three heads” is? We know Aegon had the “must unify the kingdoms due to an incoming threat” dream and had “the prince that was promised” inscribed on the catspaw dagger but was the “three heads of the dragon” part of his dreams? If so, shouldn’t Aegon and his successors told more than their direct heirs about the prophecy?

Visenya crowned Aegon with a Valyrian steel circlet, studded with rubies, and Rhaenys hailed him as “Aegon, First of His Name, King of All Westeros, and Shield of His People”.

Should you call yourself the “Shield of His People” when he first kills thousands of his people in order to become King of all Westeros? That’s a crappy shield.

It is said the smallfolk, the fishermen, and fieldhands, and goodwives of the recently conquered future Crownlands cheered loudest of all upon Aegon’s coronation. Genuine love for Aegon or plain common sense to be loudly supportive when your new king has three dragons next to him?

Up next, the Kings of Westeros react to Aegon’s invasion

#asoiaf #house Targaryen #aegon the conqueror #game of thrones #fire & blood #Aegon Targaryen #a song of ice and fire

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fandomficsnstuff · 3 years

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Little Dragon - Part 8

Summary: You were a child slave of Meereen, when one day a silver haired woman sets you free. Though your master isn’t too keen on letting you go, and Daenerys took personal action to see you freed and taken care of.

High Valyrian is in cursive

You were listening intently to the conversations going on in the war room, so many faces that you wanted to remember, their names, their houses, their history, but for now you settled on staying silent and listening, “are you really sure we can discuss this around her?” your head snapped towards the accented voice, seeing a beautiful woman with olive skin, black hair and dark brown eyes, and you wanted to look to your mother for help, but decided that you couldn’t use her as a pillar forever “(Y/N) Targaryen, Lady…?” you couldn’t help your tone, you were not a little girl wearing a collar around her neck anymore, jumping at the slightest of sounds. You were still timid and childish with Daenerys and Missandei, because you knew you could afford it, but you didn’t know these people, they were allies of your mother, but you didn’t know them.

“Ellaria” she sounded tense as she responded, she probably hadn't known you were the daughter of Daenerys, but you merely nodded “well, Lady Ellaria, I would prefer that if you are done questioning who your Queen trusts, perhaps we could get back to planning the war we are currently in” you heard a short laugh, your eyes glancing to none other than Olenna Tyrell, the Queen of Thorns, and the only living Tyrell left. “Are you sure you did not birthe her? She has the spirit of a dragon that one” Daenerys did everything to not smirk proudly at Olenna’s comment, and even Ellaria looked a bit surprised at your response “now… I agree that a foreign army would send the wrong signal, but an army from Westeros, it would show that we are not here to raid and pillage, the Dothraki will not do so unless their Khaleesi orders and my mother never will, the Unsullied are obedient and loyal, so they won’t either, but we need Westeros with us, and showing that their own houses are turning on Cercei is a good way to win quickly and without a lot of losses, on either side”, you studied the map as you spoke, unaware of the impressed looks everyone gave you, Tyrion being the first to speak up “well… I agree” you glanced at him and sent him a quick smile, one of the few smiles you had offered him, but you didn’t really know him either, so it was justified that you didn’t treat him, or Varys, as warmly as the rest of your mother’s allies.

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You stood impatiently besides Daenerys in the throne room, and Daenerys couldn’t help the amused glance she shared with Missandei “alright go, but change before you do!” you barely even heard the rest of her sentence, you were already off, heading towards your room. In record breaking time you changed from your formal dress to a special outfit you had made for you. You had been riding Rhaegal much more frequently, and today were the day of the arrival of Jon Snow, King in the North, and you had promised to stay for his arrival and then ride Rhaegal after, but you couldn’t help fidgeting, and were more than happy that Daenerys excused you. You put on your leather trousers, securing them with a harness that was connected to them, ensuring that they didn’t fall down, not even an inch, you had a tunic under your harness, pulling a shortened cloak over your shoulders and tying it to the harness, making sure the knots were tight, the cloak was warm but light, it reached just below your hips, but kept you warm. Next you threw on a pair of gloves made from cloth on the inside and leather on the outside, and then your boots, they were high, they almost reached your knees, and you pulled the laces tight, so they wouldn’t fall off during the flight.

Your room had an open balcony, just like Daenerys’, and you approached the edge, grinning widely as you waited. You couldn’t help the excited giggle you let out as you heard him roar as he came closer, and in a leap of faith you jumped off of the balcony, you let out a little huff as you landed on scales, and a few moments later you got a good grip, holding onto Rhaegal as you flew away from the castle, going high up and then soaring, admiring the landscape below, seeing a ship you presumed belonged to Jon Snow, you flew towards Drogon and Viseryon who were flying on the other side of the island. You could still just about watch Tyrion greet Jon Snow, and saw them making their way towards the entrance.

A wicked smile grazed your lips as you got an idea, and somehow Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal knew what your plan was, Rhaegal let out an ear shattering roar as you held on tightly, flying towards Tyrion and the two men he were leading up the long stone staircase. You leaned forward as you flew closer to the ground, Rhaegal barely managing to not hit the small people below, something that made you laugh loudly and you couldn’t help but cheer, Tyrion seeing you on Rhaegal as you waved at him, and you could see him shake his head, but you also knew of the smile he tried to hide, he was probably telling Jon that he himself wasn’t used to the presence of the dragons.

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You heaved heavily as you ran into the throne room, your hair wild from the wind, your chest rising dramatically as you tried to catch your breath, standing besides Daenerys who did her very best to not smirk at you proudly, instead she tried to look as regal as ever, waiting patiently for this, Jon Snow, to arrive.

Rhaegal had barely managed to throw you off on the open balcony you jumped out of earlier, you almost bumped into a few tables on your way to the throne room, a fact that made you smile amused before trying to hide it. “Well, at least you made it back in time” her words could be mistaken as scolding, but you knew her better, and you couldn’t help the breathless giggle you let out “think I scared an inch or so off of Lord Tyrion” Daenerys let out a short, although quiet, laugh at your comment, shooting you a very poor attempt of a scolding gaze before looking back towards the large doors at the end of the throne room, making you straighten your back, your smile faltering and your hands placed in front of yourself, as you always did when you had attended any court meeting.

You watched the two strangers as Missandei went down the list of titles that your Queen had acquired along the way, something you took great pride in, she was your mother after all.

“And this is (Y/N) Targaryen, daughter of Queen Daenerys Stormborn, princess of the Seven Kingdoms and heir to the throne” Missandei finally ended, and the two men looked at you confused, giving you the impression that they didn’t know that much about your mother, and therefore you, they had probably only heard rumours, lies or other falsehoods, and therefore didn’t know of your existence, which was probably not a bad thing. You had heard of how the usurper King Robert Baratheon had sent assassins to kill Daenerys, even while she was pregnant, so who says they wouldn’t have been sent after you, back then nothing more than a little girl, had the usurper's children heard of your existence, and Daenerys’ love for you. You were snapped out of your day dream as Daenerys got up, approaching Jon Snow and his adviser, and first now you tuned in on their conversation, a small frown resting on your brows, hearing her words, but you couldn’t deny the pride it gave you, despite hearing all that she had suffered, “I was born at Dragonstone. Not that I can remember it. We fled before Robert's assassins could find us. Robert was your father's best friend, no? I wonder if your father knew his best friend sent assassins to murder a baby girl in her crib. Not that it matters now, of course. I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me, I don't remember all their names. I have been sold like a broodmare. I've been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing, through all those years in exile? Faith. Not in any god, not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn't seen a dragon in centuries, until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn't crossed the sea, any sea. They did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, and I will, and so will my daughter.” Her gaze turned to you for a brief moment and you smiled proudly, one she proudly returned before turning back to Jon Snow.

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You frowned as you watched your mother study the map in silence, you wanted to say something, you really did, but what could you say? The Iron Fleet was gone, Yara and Ellaria had been taken prisoner and Jon Snow refused to bend the knee and instead only wants to hack away at some mysterious stone somewhere in a cave on the island, claiming that an army of undead people and giants are the true enemy.

You couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips, you being the only one to actually make a sound in the entire map room “maybe…” you dared a glance at your mother, not that you feared her, but more that you knew of the thin ice you were balancing on “maybe you should just let him mine this… ‘dragonglass’... it means nothing to you after all” Daenerys looked to you slowly, and for a second everyone in the room were praying to whoever and whatever that you hadn’t crossed a line, but when you received no response, you continued, “you didn’t know it was there, no one did… there are two options here, either he’s right, in which it doesn’t hurt you or your army or your dragons to comply, or he’s mad, and it won’t hurt you, your army or your dragons either. There’s no outcome here where anything bad is an outcome, you complying will also show that yes, you are to be feared, but you are also complying and reasonable, and allowing one man, one person to mine something of no value is a sign that you are with the people of Westeros” there was another second of silence, but eventually Daenerys smiled at you, walked over to you and placed a gentle hand on your cheek, looking at you with a proud look in her eyes before walking off.

“Where is she going?” Tyrion looked at you baffled and confused, but you simply shrugged “to allow Jon Snow to mine the Dragonglass” you leaned over the map table, studying the different areas, looking at the different highlighted places, such as King’s Landing, Winterfell, all the places you’ve only ever read about, you couldn't wait to see them for real.

#Daenerys Targaryen #Daenerys Targaryen x Child!Reader #GoTFanFic

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warsofasoiaf · 4 years

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Uh. I checked the character count, and this is going to end up long. My friend sent me something, and while I'm sure it's wrong, I don't know enough about medieval battles to dispute it. Can you help? Part one of many

He held storms end against a siege. From what information there is he seems to have done this well. I don’t know if he employed a scorched earth strategy before the siege began (if he didn’t then a rescind my compliment). The siege showed little in terms of tactical or strategic prowess on the part of Stannis but his will power was commendable and eating last was (part 1)

The siege showed little in terms of tactical or strategic prowess on the part of Stannis but his will power was commendable and eating last was a good morale booster (though he likely didn’t do this for the moral). Still, if the Tyrells had decided to storm the castle he would have lost. The battle shows more incompetence on the part of Mace than prowess on the part of Stannis (part 2)

He captured Dragonstone. There is very little mentioned about the specifics of the engagement. It is highly unlikely that there was a contested landing as the defenders lacked the numbers and morale for such a move and there is very little precedent for a contested landing in the historical time period that ASoIaF is based on. He likely arrived at the castle to find an open gate. Part 3

The best mark on Stannis’s record, and the only truly impressive thing he’s done was his destruction of the Ironborn fleet. He managed to split his fleet in two and flank the Ironborn without them knowing. Though this is still impressive it must be mentioned that Stannis likely had a great advantage due to technological superior ships (the ships described in the books are absurdly large and in an age where gaming and boarding was the main instrument of naval warfare that is a great advantage).

During the war of the five kings Stannis refuses to ally himself to anyone. This is a great black mark agains his record. And shows either an abysmal understanding of basic strategy or an incredibly diluted ego. Stannis’s choice to march on Storms end similarly shows either incompetence or delusion, only saved by an entirely unpredictable magical trump card on the part of Melisandre. Combined with the luck of the Stormlander lords agreeing to side with Stannis.

His attack of Kings Landing similarly shows a lack of understanding of basic strategy. This time he seemingly fails to scout ahead before initiating a contested river crossing. Failure to do this is an incredible oversight that cost him the battle. Part five sorry forgot the last one

After Stannis’s previous blunders lead to the annihilation of most of his army he gambles and sails north to try and win over the Northern lords. This is probably his first truly good idea in the war of the five kings. With Robb dead and the Lannister involvement in what seems to be one of the greatest war crimes in Westerosi history the Northern lords are ripe for realignment. Part 6

He crushes a numerical superior Wildling army though his force is made up of mounted knights and the Wildlings too don’t seem to utilize scouts. I would chalk this up to apparent wildling incompetence. Stannis then determines to march on the dread fort. Which is rightly pointed out by Jon Snow to be a stupid idea. Stannis then receives advice that determines his next moves. Part eight

Sorry, had to wait to submit more. Stannis then determines to march on the dread fort. Which is rightly pointed out by Jon Snow to be a stupid idea. Stannis then receives advice that determines his next moves. Stannis also seemingly wins the battle on the ice. His strategy seems to be fairly sound though he likely will receive no small amount of help from the Manderlys. Part nine

Part 10: Ultimately Stannis does not deserve his reputation. He isn’t completely incompetent. But He does not stand up the the likes of Tywin Lannister, Randyl Tarly, or Robb Stark In skill. Most of his victories are largely attributable to events that he had no control over and could not have forseen, from Melisandre’s magic to Jon’s council.

I wouldn’t worry. Whoever wrote that doesn’t really understand warfare either.

Defending against the Siege of Storm’s End was a remarkable feat of leadership. Stannis is young, and this is likely his first real test of major leadership. That he is able to handle it with only one instance of defection is no small accomplishment. A general needs to have this sense of leadership, in order to inspire his men and to get them to follow his orders. This is something we see time and again with Stannis; his troops truly do feel inspired by him, and are not simply fearing punishment for non-compliance. His men cross the burning bridge of ships during the Battle of the Blackwater, they follow him to the very edge of the world (bit of dramatic hyperbole here, but the Wall is remote and he would need to unite his men after the disastrous defeat).

Capturing Dragonstone. I fail to see your friend’s point. Naval landings are difficult in premodern times. Stannis had to organize a fleet and land, and he had built ships to take on the Targaryen fleet. Again, that’s another part of leadership, particularly since medieval naval combat frequently had ships that would be commissioned for a purpose and then mothballed.

What we see of the Battle of Fair Isle shows instead Stannis using the terrain features and the advantages of his equipment to his full advantage. This is something I often see with amateur military analysts is this idea that good equipment is used as an excuse to dismiss battlefield accomplishment in favor of a preferred conclusion. In real battle, this isn’t the case, it’s a chaotic mess and tools and techniques still have to be used appropriately.

Now I agree that the early moves that Stannis makes in the War of the Five Kings does show that he needs his character development to grow into a better king. The need to secure alliances, and the way his poor interpersonal skills don’t make much headway with Catelyn despite her being tailor-made to support Stannis (save for that pesky Northern independence thing) do show that his problems front and center.

I’ll be frank, your friend’s interpretation of Storm’s End suggests that he or she did no analysis the battle. I’ve seen a bunch of folks argue that on the r/asoiaf subreddit before. The facts of the matter are that Stannis forces Renly to move and nearly exhaust himself. He prepares his position and ground, he takes key advantage of Renly’s mistakes, and overall shows himself capable of winning the fight. Melisandre is often dismissed by people in our own world, but we have to remember that Planetos is a world where magic actually does stuff. I’d agree that a general in our own time who prepares for a magic bolt of lightning or something to strike down an enemy general is an idiot, but Planetos operates by different rules, and we have to make at least some sort of concession to that.

Now, we do see Stannis making a lot of mistakes in the battle, but we also see Imry Florent making most of the mistakes against tactical sense. Part of that is on Stannis, he is the senior commander, but part of that is also the problems of incompetent feudal leaders. Imry is an idiot, and he only got that position by nepotism.

Dismissing the wildlings losses as failure to employ scouts simply doesn’t match the text. We don’t hear about the wildlings not employing scouts, what we hear instead is that Stannis joined with the Eastwatch rangers and set out. We also see that the wildlings do employ some of their forces well, particularly their mammoths, which requires Stannis to secure a breakthrough against one of the other wildling contingents to flank the mammoths and bring them down, which is good tactical maneuver to eliminate an enemy advantage.

Stannis relying on Jon for counsel being marked as a disadvantage is a completely foolish argument. Securing local intelligence to better plan and execute a military campaign is one of intelligence’s primary purposes! That’s one of the most prevalent reasons to secure friendly local sources, so that you can adequately plan with better knowledge. Stannis makes a plan, finds local sourcing which gives him better intelligence, so he changes it. That being held against him is just a bad argument, start to finish.

I noticed your friend completely omitted the capture of Deepwood Motte, and I’m guessing because it really tears a hole in their arguments. Stannis using classic military deception techniques, camouflage to hide his troops, and captures Asha as she’s trying to evacuate, all of which showcase Stannis’s intelligence and effectiveness within the military sphere.

The Battle of the Ice we see Stannis again making preparations to take advantage of local conditions. While we don’t see what it is, because we’re still waiting on the book, all of the chapters that we see of him in the fifth novel regarding this show him preparing, show him leading his men.

Holding up Tywin Lannister as an example of a military genius is laughable, since Tywin gets beaten pillar to post by Robb Stark. His efforts to win the War of the Five Kings completely doom his house, since he violates every social taboo and engenders significant resentment to his family while doing so. I think it is possible to criticize Stannis’s mistakes in the Blackwater, without needing to minimize the actual accomplishments.

Thanks for the question, Anon. Here’s hoping you can correct your friend’s bad arguments.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

#stannis baratheon

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sailorshadzter · 4 years

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i would go anywhere with you.

a random drabble.

set just before the battle with the night king.

sometimes you just gotta give your otp some soft, romantic moments.

enjoy :)

She's so close, and yet... She's so very far away.

Jon keeps his distance, he knows how she must feel. Instead, he makes his way through the days, catering to the whims of his dragon queen and hoping that somehow, someway, things work out they way he wants.

It's day five, not that he's counting.

She's there in the great hall, her back to him as she speaks in earnest to Lord Royce and another of the lords. He creeps closer, just so he can listen to her honey-like voice not strained with pain nor anger. "The gates are to remain open," she's reminding them, ever concerned about the innocent people of the North. "Until the very last moment," the lord's are nodding, of course they are, they hang on her every command. She's more the queen than he ever could have been king. "And the storages... I know they were prepared not for the additional soldiers," her lip catches between her teeth, a nervous gesture he's seen dozens of times. "But speak with Agatha, she will know well on making what we have last as long as possible."

The two men nod and bow to their lady, leaving her alone. She turns and for the first time, her eyes find his. "You're good at this," he says, an echo of words she once spoke to him. The mask he's been wearing slips away and he's Jon again. She smiles, softly, faintly. "Better than me." This time she laughs and Jon is warmed by the sound. "Sansa..." He sobers, taking a single step closer to where she stands. "I must speak with you," he lowers his voice as other's begin to filter in, the evening meal only minutes away from being served. "Tonight. Please...." He can't help but to reach for her hand, the softness of her palm in his reminding him of why he's doing what he is. When she finally nods, Jon steps back from her, turning away as Daenerys enters the room, her silver hair a sharp contrast to the darkness of the room.

Once again, his mask is on.

[ x x x ]

When the knock sounds on his doors, Jon is standing at the window, listening to the soft screaming of the wind as the winter storm rages on. He turns, calling out to her, knowing it's Sansa before she's even there in the doorway. Despite the late hour, she's fully dressed in her gray wool gown, her hair partially twisted back in a knot of elaborate braids. He longs to pull the pins from it and run his hands through the long, soft length of red. "Thank you, for coming..." He says softly, as he comes to stand before her in the center of the room.

She offers him the truest smile he's seen in days. "We're family, of course I'd come." He doesn't deserve her softness, he deserves nothing but her contempt. "I'll always be on your side, Jon," she goes on, taking a step closer to where he stands, blue eyes seeking out his dark.

Jon reaches for her, he can't help it.

The moment she's in his arms, Jon knows it's what's right. She yields to his embrace, sinking into him, her face burying into the crook of his shoulder. It's as if this was where she's always meant to be. It was where she belonged. "Sansa..." Her name is soft on his lips and it draws her back up, though for a moment he can't draw his eyes from the curve of her rosy lips as she smiles for him. But when his eyes raise to meet hers, he's reaching out, fingertips tracing the outline of her jaw, leaving warmth in their wake. "I'm sorry," is all he can say before he closes his eyes, emotion threatening to overpower his resolve.

"For what?" Her voice comes, soft and slow, just a moment later. Jon opens his eyes and looks up, surprised by her single question. "I trust in you, Jon," she says, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. "No one can shake my faith in you. No one." He blinks, as if he cannot truly believe what she says, and so Sansa reaches out to take his hand into hers. "I know you're doing what you think is right." Of course, she was upset at first, him bringing that beautiful Targaryen queen back to their home, riding into Winterfell at her side like a king consort. Of course, she was jealous of the silver-haired queen's soft beauty, all round edges where Sansa feels sharp. But behind that softness was a red hot anger, a violent nature like that of the monsters Sansa has known all of her life. Once she learned the truth of the queen, she knew that her trust in Jon was right as it always was. Jon would never betray her nor the North for this woman.

She's only sorry she's waited so long to tell him.

Hearing her speak, saying the words he's always longed to hear... Jon sucks in a breath, calming the racing of his heart, knowing that in all his life... The only thing he's ever done that matters was making her smile. Making her happy. He wonders how it's taken him this long to realize it. It's always been there, that feeling for her, even if he's tried to hide from it, to let it go. "Everything I've done, it's all been for you." He whispers, emboldened to speak the truth that's been safe inside of his heart all this time. "I swear it, Sansa. Since the moment you came to me at Castle Black... Every choice I've made has been because of you." It's her turn to close her eyes, reopening them a moment later, tears gathering upon her lashes. Despite the tears, she's smiling. I love you, he's thinking, over and over again, though his lips refuse to form the words. Instead, he does the only other thing he can think of.

He kisses her.

It's long and soft, it's slow and yet so steady it takes the breath from her lungs. She grips the front of his jerkin, the worn leather soft beneath her fingertips. He's kissed her before- once, the night before he left for Dragonstone- but it had not felt this way. This was a kiss of lovers, a kiss that says every unspoken thing, a kiss that is more telling than any phrase ever could be. When he breaks the kiss, it's hesitantly, as if breaking from her is the last thing he wants to do.

It is.

"Sansa, after the battle..." He trails off, for the dream he has for the two of them, how could it ever come true? But even now, it's the only thing he has to hold onto, the only thing that gives him hope. "After the battle and this is all over..." He grins, sliding a hand to the back of her head, feeling the pins holding her braids together. "We could runaway." The first pin falls free, then a second. "To somewhere where no one knows us." She's giggling, shaking out her hair as it falls free from the pins that once secured it. Jon can't help but run his hands through it, relishing in the soft feel of every strange between his fingers.

"I would go anywhere, if it's with you." She whispers a moment before his lips find hers again.

[ x x x ]

Later, he rises up from the furs, leaving her asleep in his bed.

He dresses quietly in the darkness of the room, the fire in the hearth nothing but embers now. For a moment, he stands at the side of the bed, peering down at her sleeping form- she sleeps so peacefully, a hand tucked beneath her cheek, red hair spread out across the white pillow she sleeps upon. Just the thought of her naked beneath his furs is enough to stir his loins, but he knows he must go. And so he leans over her, pressing a soft kiss against her temple. "I love you," he whispers the words he could not bring himself to say the night before, his hand gently brushing back a stray lock of her hair.

Though he longs to remain there forever, Jon finally pulls himself from the room, knowing that without a doubt, he would find himself in this very same place again.

But next time, he would not have to untangle himself from her.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #got fix it fic #tbh i still think sansa would have confronted him with comfort after her talk with dany #anyways #i just want them to be happy #my writing #i wrote this

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ironforgedrp · 4 years

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♛ ELAENYS TARGARYEN

↳ details; cisfemale, twenty-three. ↳ date of birth; 1st of the second month, 483AC.

↳ status; heterosexual, unmarried, no children. ↳ faceclaim; kathryn newton. ↳ hails from; dragonstone. ↳ loyalty; house targaryen and the iron throne.

↳ position/title; lady of house targaryen, lady of dragonstone. ↳ religion; the faith of the seven. ↳ magical ability; dragon dreams. ↳ spoken languages; the common tongue & high valyrian. ↳ reason for being in sunspear; travelling alongside her family and the iron throne.

♛ PERSONALITY

↳ type; the campaigner ( enfp-a ). ↳ alignment; chaotic good. ↳ star sign; aquarius. ↳ positives; scholarly, charitable, enthralling, sagacious. ↳ negatives; inquiring, headstrong, unruly, overemotional.

♛ BIOGRAPHY

↳ family lineage.

cursed. it is what elaenys will answer if asked what she is.

born as the youngest daughter of the dragonstone’s targaryen branch, nothing special was expected of elaenys. of course, she was descendent of an old valyrian house, descendent of the glorius targaryen kings and queens — but she wasn’t a princess. they’ll look upon her, of course they will, but the secondary branch wasn’t so glorious as the one who held the power. but elaenys was a targaryen, born with silver-blonde hair e violet-blue eyes, as fair as a cotton flower. being the youngest of three, she was quite pampered by her parents and the other adults — but she wasn’t expected to be the last.

lonely for almost her childhood — her siblings and cousins were too old to play her childish games — elaenys found comfort in the books. for the early months, she would ask for the maester or a septa to read for her — or even her mother or father, if she found them to be willing to spend some more minutes with her — until she learned how to write and read in the common tongue. when that time arrived, elaenys was unstoppable. she read all the books in dragonstone’s library at least twice, and started to preffer the company of the maesters than of the septas. but she had to attend her lady’s duties — and while she did, her mind would be wandering in the stories she read, hoping to have an adventure of her own, like her ancestors had.

always very applied, elaenys stood out in languages and westerosi history. after all, these were her favourites subjects and the ones that the young dragon, since a young age, was interested in. however, because of that, elaenys became a difficult person to deal with changes and unexpected things. history and languages always had been the way they were — and elaenys thought that her life would be like that, too. younger, she would throw a loud tantrum if things didn’t go as she planned, now, however, her tantrums aren’t so loud — but she shows small signs of irritation like harsh responses and disapproving gazes.

however, growing up, elaenys noticed that her dreams were too childish. she wasn’t born in a great condition — being a woman and a lady of a great house, meant that she would be married off to some lord and secure an beneficial alliance to her family. only if she had been born a boy — she would be like aegon v, traveling all over the kingdom. but elaenys accepted her fate within dragonstone’s gray walls and, sometimes, the red ones of the red keep.

it wasn’t until her seventeenth birthday that elaenys’ curse came. until there, her life had been easy. she could be found in the company of her older sister and mother all day or reading and discussing with the maesters. elaenys loved her father with all of her heart and had a good relationship with her older brother, even if sometimes she found his goals to be too much for his position. however, on the first day of the second month of 500AC, elaenys woke up screaming. the targaryen lady had a strange dream, one that she couldn’t put into properly words. four dragons — two reds, one purple and other green — were flying over her, their eyes too familiar, looking deep into her soul. a desperate roar was heard by elaenys as the purple dragon fell to the ground towards her direction in the open field. in the same year, her aunt, queen victaria, died.

elaenys was desperate when she interpreted her dream as an omen of death. however, she didn’t told a soul about it. she didn’t want to scare anyone — after all, the other three dragons couldn’t mean anything. the targaryen daughter tried to continue her daily activities with normality, but her reading were directed for dragon dreams’ books and targaryens who suffered from it as well. for some years, elaenys felt at peace. the dream didn’t come again, and for a while, she even forgot about it. but, at her nineteenth birthday, she dreamed of the two red dragons had fallen alongside the purple one, remaining only the green flying in the sky. the death of her uncle, the king, and her cousin, the crown prince, were not a surprise for elaenys.

the green dragon haunted her for a year. it appeared in her dreams every single day, and elaenys started to wander who it could be. her father or brother for sure, and that scared her. but the dragon dream came before her birthday, and her father’s death a few weeks before it too. again, she wasn’t surprised. elaenys knew tragedy would came one last time, and she prepared herself for it. yet, she still cried and mourned her father for days. but her nightmares became known by everyone, but she disguised them just as vivid dreams, created by her creative head. it worked for awhile, but soon her maids and mother realized that it was worse than simple nightmares.

the transition of the rule of dragonstone made her uneased. blood is thickier than water, but she knows that with her brother ruling the first targaryen seat and a lannister in the iron throne she’ll be used as a coin of exchange to secure alliances, and now with the split of the kingdoms, used as a way to keep an eye in the new monarchies. the young targaryen wasn’t happy with rhaena’s marriage — she didn’t hate the lannisters, but the iron throne belonged to the targaryens, and only her fmaily was worthy to sit on it. after all, everytime the seven kingdoms had a non-targaryen ruler, it was doomed to to failure. but elaenys would be happy to leave dragonstone — its walls remind her of her dreams, and she’s thankful that they stopped to haunt her. however, in the travel for sunspear, elaenys had a strange feeling — they weren’t the same when she had her dragon dreams, but she’s afraid that tragedy will fall again in the last generation of targaryens.

↳ personality.

with an inquiring nature, elaenys is, sometimes, a difficult person to meddle with. she doesn’t like to take orders from anyone — as a targaryen, she feels superior to the other great houses — and from time to time, disobeys the high lords. she’s a free spirit and dreams of having her own adventures — taking inspirations from aegon v, her greatest role model. as someone that read too much in her free time, elaenys observes things from different points of view and is difficult to deceive. however, she’s an idealistic and is always ready to advocate in favor of the small folk or help them. with people that she trusts, the young dragon is a sweet and lively, speaking too much about her interests.

however, with the dragon dreams, elaenys is quieter. quieter and paranoiac. she’s afraid to have another dream and this fear is showing up in her actions, even if it’s an irrational fear. she wanders from time to time and wonders about the possibilities of what can happen, but when she realizes it, elaenys promptly tries to return to her normal self — the same impatient and cheerful elaenys that her family knew. the targaryen daughter is someone super emotional, and she holds words and grudges easily. her impulsiveness and inquiring nature always bring to elaenys situations that she doesn’t know how to handle — despite being such a smart person, she isn’t well versed in diplomacy and doesn’t know the time to stop talking, sometimes hurting the people that the loves without noticing. the young dragons is also someone that doesn’t apologize easily — she is always sure that she is right, and if the other person is offended, she cannot do anything to help them.

↳ the splitting of the kingdoms.

for someone that only traveled to the capitol, elaenys is excited to be in somewhere new and attend to a summit that will be in the maester’s history books. she wants to experience the dornish lands with everything they have to offer, without worrying for her family safety. however, with a mind as sharp as an assassin’s knife, elaenys is more interested in the political meetings. she isn’t a supporter of king arryk — doing it publicly because of her cousin — and think that either rhaena of one of her older siblings should the ruler of westeros, but she understand why the schism happened. elaenys doesn’t think that the treaties will work — men are too prideful when losing, and losing a great part of your kingdom isn’t something good. she’s afraid that a war will happen just like the last time the seven kingdoms were split, and she knows that her family will be in the middle of it — being in dorne will give elaenys a way to prepare herself when that time comes. however, with her inquiring nature, she may find herself in difficult situations after asking questions she shouldn’t.

♛ STATUS: TAKEN

#House Targaryen.#taken.#taken female.#crownlands.#dru.#kathryn newton fc #female.

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gizkasparadise · 5 years

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Prompt if I may! Tyrion/Sansa post-war, married but having a long distance relationship while he's in King's Landing. He visits and those times are good, but she's content with her freedom in Winterfell all the same. They write letters.

co-written with the amazing @starforged, who did all the sansa parts

Sansa,

While I wish this raven be well received, I fully expect it finds a final destination in the belly of a fireplace. Should the former happen, I will do my best to make this message as short and unclever as possible--a considerable effort on my part in both accounts..

I am sure the intent of this letter will not surprise you, as we briefly discussed the matter before I departed Winterfell. The septon has reviewed the legality of our marriage. It would stand, should you wish it. I trust you see the benefits of such an arrangement, of which I offer with no expectations. But there are worse things than marriage based on what I hope is a friendship.

I await your response, or at least the live return of this raven. Birds willing to fly North are difficult to come by, this time of year.

Your husband in a tentative sense,Tyrion Lannister

Tyrion,

I would not so easily discard any letter from an ally, much less one I could consider a friend. There are so few of them left these days in Westeros.

An interesting turn of events, all things considered. Tell me the truth, did you manage to use that famous Lannister persuasion on the matter? I suppose either way, it doesn’t truly matter how it comes to be that I rid myself of one husband only to find myself still married regardless. Which is not the worst thing that could happen.

Things still stand as I said them before: you are Hand to the Dragon Queen, and I am not willing to leave the North after - all of it. The North is mine, Winterfell is mine, my family is mine.

How would a clever man such as yourself reconcile these obstacles?

I hope you are doing well, and that the warm weather of King’s Landing sits better with you. And the birds.

Your hesitant wife by circumstance,Sansa Stark

Sansa,

It would appear that Lannister charm only goes so far after a tyrannical rule in its name. Thankfully, there is always money.

And now, I believe, it is time for a confession: King’s Landing is truly miserable in the summer. Knowing there is a cooler climate where I might visit is tempting. If for no other reason than a break from the smell of hot shit in the streets.

So, dear Sansa, would you do me the honor of staying my wife from 1,500 miles away?

Tyrion

Tyrion,

Decorum would say that I would take the name Lannister, as I have before, and as I have been a Bolton.

I do hope you will keep this a secret between you and I, but in the wise words of my sister: fuck decorum.

I will stay your wife if you do me the honor of allowing me to remain a Stark.

Fondly,Sansa

Sansa,

Yours is a good name. Truly.

I’ll make the necessary arrangements. I understand there’s to be a tree involved at some point?

Tyrion

Tyrion,

Thank you. Words cannot express the relief this gives me. Both in name and in not having to deal with suitors attempting to gain my hand again.

In the North, there are always trees involved. You will have to get used to our strange customs.

Sansa

Sansa,

We are to depart in a few short hours. It will be a small party of myself, Jaime, and fifteen soldiers. Purely for gravitas, of course.

I suppose the next time we talk shall be at our wedding.

The second one, that is.

[a blot of ink, as though the pen rested too long]

Until then, I wish you well.

Tyrion

Tyrion,

Life is beginning to settle in the north. Many of the families here are gone, their estates empty, and I have many more mouths to feed than expected. It would seem prudent to grant titles to smaller families or let wildlings take homes that have been around for centuries.

You’re sure to have reached King’s Landing by now, and I suppose that I don’t have much to say in the short time we’ve parted. But since you are part of the north, officially, I’ll have to keep you informed of its going ons.

It’s quieter here with your absence.

Brienne seems to be in a mood now that your brother has also left. Anytime I bring him up, she goes quite stony and mumbles. The world may have ended as we knew it, but some things seem to stay the same.

I hope your trip back was quiet.

Sansa

Sansa,

Ah, Jaime reveals himself as a romantic yet again.

The journey was far less entertaining than my time spent in the North. Too much sun, not enough bearded, taciturn men. A pity, really.

As for Winterfell, it’s in more than capable hands. I understand the offer will not be accepted, but know that should there be a need of it, I do have access to coffers. A few of them, actually.

You looked well, Sansa. Happier.

[again, another ink blot]

It was good to see you.

Yours,Tyrion

[this letter is a few weeks out after]

Tyrion,

We are overflowing with bearded, taciturn men. I would say I could send you a few to keep you company, but we have need of them more and I am not that generous.

I [an ink blot] thank you for your support and your words. They do mean a lot, even if it doesn’t seem so. You’re right, husband, I won’t accept the charity but perhaps a trade could be made. I’m proud, not foolish. And I am well aware of what it means to marry a man of wealth.

I feel more content than I have in some time. Ever, maybe.

Don’t get in too much trouble,

Sansa

Sansa,

I do believe this is the first time you’ve wished self-preservation on me. In return, enjoy your anniversary present. I wasn’t sure if I should go by the first or second wedding, so expect another about ten months from now.

[attached to the raven is an inventory list: grain, salt, livestock, and the promise of one wolf-shaped pin]

Happy marriage,Tyrion

Tyrion,

Being widowed or disgraced twice over would cause unsavory rumors. Wishing you well is the least I can do.

The gifts were well received. Salt is a romantic gesture in the North, did you know?

[she wears the pin but she doesn’t bother to write that]

How are things faring?

Sansa

Sansa,

What a strange custom. Fitting, I suppose, though I’ve never heard of it.

As for me, there were only two attempts on my life this month. I dare say I’m becoming popular, in the good sense. For once.

It is a pleasant time to visit King’s Landing, should you be inclined to do so. Flowers, sunsets, multiple stores of salt.

Yours,Tyrion

--.

Tyrion,

There are assassination attempts? Were they fed to the dragons? I have it on good authority they eat whatever they want.

I would put my life in Arya’s hands, but I would not trust her nor Bran to do what it is I do. Leaving is a poor choice. Do enjoy the salt and sunsets for me.

Sansa

Sansa,

I suppose this is where you make me defend my Queen’s honor. I assure you the dragons are being properly fed. On livestock.

Well. I suppose there’s always summer, should I be welcomed.

Tyrion.

Tyrion,

I would never besmirch the Queen or her honor, merely repeating her words. She is the good authority.

Summer is lovely. You are always welcome here, Tyrion. Even if you weren’t my husband.

Sansa

Lady Stark,

I write to you on behalf of Tyrion Lannister. It was expressed to me that despite appearances, your marriage remains amicable.

All measures are being considered for the Hand’s health. We shall write to you in either possible event.

Good fortune upon you in these trying times, my Lady.

Varys

I do require much more information than was given to me, as it has been some time since I have heard from Lord Tyrion himself. Measures for his health? What has happened, and if it is dire, why was I not contacted sooner? Regardless of the state of our marriage, we are still married.

I am sending my knight, Ser Brienne of Tarth, to check up on this matter personally.

Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell

[about a month after the last raven]

My Lady Sansa,

As suspected, all is not well in King’s Landing. Lord Tyrion has been the victim of an assassination attempt, and is currently recovering under the maesters’ careful supervision.

After several inquiries, Jaime Lannister was able to secure a visit for me to see Lord Tyrion. On your behalf, of course. He is [a scribble]. I cannot lie to you, my lady, he is still weak. From what I understand, there are rumors that Her Grace could send him to Dragonstone for the remainder of his treatment, and until the assassination conspiracy is resolved. I promise you I will not leave the Red Keep until I can assure your lord’s safety.

Yours in service,

Ser Brienne of Tarth

[a week later]

Sansa,

Am I to assume the suffocating protection of Ser Brienne is a gesture of good will? I certainly hope so. I doubt I have the stomach for another assassination attempt--literally or figuratively.

For future near-death experiences, let me assure you there’s no need to worry on my account. Assassins have healthy employment in King’s Landing. I’m sure you remember.

...But I do apologize. For not writing earlier.

Yours,Tyrion

Tyrion,

You continue to amaze me with how foolish you can truly be, and how childish I was when we were first married years ago. There is plenty to worry about, in your position and stature. The world is precariously balanced as is without you at the helm of the great queen.

I have already sent word to Ser Brienne to escort you to Winterfell. Come home.

Sansa

Dearest Ser Brienne,

It’s time to return with one husband in tow. Do make sure he understands that there is no choice in this matter.

Lady Sansa

Sansa,

Winterfell is far more agreeable than Dragonstone. At least in company.

You should know it could be a longer stay, this time.

Yours,Tyrion

Tyrion,

I’ll make sure there is plenty of drink to go around then.

Yours,

Sansa

Sansa,

Marriage is certainly more agreeable than previously imagined. I must commend you for your tolerance of an old man.

Yours, and bound for the North,Tyrion

#sanrion #tyrion lannister #sansa stark #starforged #got spoilers #game of thrones #letter!fic #hints at braime #!my post #fanfic #rashaka

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zcldrizes-a · 5 years

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“ 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. ” ⋰ canon divergence.

my daenerys is very heavily influenced by book, show, and personal headcanons. i have taken what i want from each, but ultimately, if you don’t like certain things, you are free to unfollow. this is what you can expect if we write together. massive credit to both @killthebxy and @tymptir for their input, and everything they’ve contributed.

⋰ ⊰ 𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌; 𝒊 𝒂𝒎 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕. ┊┊ spans the time across all books, and seasons 1 - 5.

The main verse takes place as a mixture of book, show, and headcanon influences, starting with the history we know and love, so I won’t go into a ridiculous amount of detail since the plot points are pretty universally known. Born during the worst storm the world has ever seen, and at the cost of her mother’s life, Daenerys was raised by her brother Viserys in exile, to escape the wrath of the Baratheons who had already destroyed the majority of her family. She was eventually taken into the Free Cities with her brother, by loyal retainers, and after years of trying to raise support, they were given sanctuary by Magister Illyrio Mopatis in the Free City of Pentos. Despite living in constant fear of her brother ( who threatens she’ll “wake the dragon” ) and somewhat meek and malleable in response to such treatment, she dreams of finding a peaceful home and a place to belong.

SUBVERSE NOTE HERE: In any canon where someone who is not Viserys raises Daenerys ( whether that be Rhaella, or whether that be any other person – Arthur Dayne, Elia Martell, etc ) the tag will be as linked beside this. This is to signal that her background in that verse may be different, thus lining her up for the potential of a different life.

After reaching a ripe age for marriage, she is sold to Khal Drogo in exchange for an army of 40,000 men for the khalasar, for an army to take back the Iron Throne, Daenerys is initially terrified of her husband, who does not hesitate to take what is his by purchase. Throughout her time with the dothraki, she eventually finds the strength to fight back against her older brother, and manages to impact the culture of the people around her - instilling ideals against the way the dothraki used to live in a respectful manner. After Drogo’s death, and the birth of her dragons, her time with the dothraki comes to a close, as they won’t follow a woman who has not displayed traditional stereotypes of strength. As such, she seeks out the major cities in Essos in an attempt to fortify her power beyond just her broken people.

Making her way from Qarth, to Astapor, it is there that Daenerys acquires the army of the Unsullied, and forms an alliance with the Stormcrows. After freeing the slaves of both Astapor and Yunkai, she marches to Meereen, though she suffers unrest from the people under her power, and some degree of disobedience from her dragons, resulting in two of them being locked beneath the Great Pyramid after her largest slaughters a child. Note, there is a lot of content within this timeframe to take in, and solely for the avoidance of rehashing everything in the earlier books and the earlier seasons, I won’t go into more detail than that, but time frame wise, this verse will cover the duration of Daenerys’ reign until the fighting pits, where she takes flight on Drogon for the first time. It is also worth noting that while I will not defer to show canon when it comes to things like Doreah’s betrayal, if it works for our plot, I am happy to make it work.

The important things post books ending begin here. I will be accepting the canon that accompanies the course of season 6. That is, that after being found by the dothraki, Daenerys is taken to Vaes Dothraki to be tried before the council of Khals, and potentially fated to live a life with the widows. I will also be accepting the death that she gives those Khals by fire, and the new support of the entire Khalasar at her back - as their Khaleesi, she instills new values to ban their traditional sexual violence and strives to continue positive changes to the more problematic aspects of their culture, as she did as Khaleesi. I will also be accepting the season 6 canon that after securing Slaver’s Bay and renaming it the Bay of Dragons, she accepts an alliance with the Greyjoys, who escort her to Dragonstone.

SUBVERSE NOTE HERE: After the attack in the fighting pits by the Sons of the Harpy, Drogon carries a wounded Daenerys ( who took a blade to the thigh whilst mounting him ) from the arena and across the narrow sea to protect her from her enemies, finding his way north, to be found by the Lord Commander of the night’s watch. Over the duration of the time her leg heals, she remains within castle black, forging a friendship that buds on the edge of something more with the young Lord Commander, and is at the castle for both his death and resurrection. Only after his announcement to travel south does she decide it’s time to travel home, and back to Essos. upon return, and whilst Drogon stops for rest after his long fight, she is found by the Khalasar, who take her as prisoner. This default verse is based on my plots with @killthebxy and allows some prior interactions with members of the night’s watch, should any wish for it. Within this same verse, her armies travel North to fight alongside at the Battle of the Bastards, before returning to Dragonstone once he is crowned King of the North and realising she is no longer welcome there. Heavily plotted with Fil.

This verse will span upwards to her journey North, though heavy plotting can change her reasons for that. By default, it is Jon that persuades her of the real fight to the North, but happy for that to change. Also happy to keep the canon of Daenerys executing the Tarlys - controversial, I know, but it’s staying. The major changes within this arc come from a personality basis; she’s not nearly as entitled in these exchanges, nor as bloodthirsty. This verse will also include her arrival in the North, by which time she faces massive isolation amongst wary people, and even from her own advisors. It is up for discussion whether she agrees to Northern independence at this point or slightly later, in either subset of this canon - but she will agree at one point, or another. This canon will end at the Battle of Winterfell.

from here, there are two potential paths for my canon to follow. one in which the battle ends with arya killing the night king, and one in which the battle ends with winterfell’s ruin. & note that in both, after what happens at winterfell, daenerys is forced to carry a sword, and to wear armour for both larger scaled battles. whether this be a small one created for her, or whether this be dark sister, gifted by the free folk ( thanks to @arcusignis for that theory ) is up for speculation. in both, at the very least, the dragons will be forced to wear chestplates.

⋰ ⊰ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆. ┊┊ set after the battle of winterfell.

Massive credit to Fil, who also helped to write this verse. In this verse, the premise is simple to follow. The battle of Winterfell happened as per show canon to an extent - battle strategies were different than the mess that was show canon, and I’ll defer to @killthebxy and his beautiful headcanons, along with discussions with @tymptir for how Jaime would have integrated his own strategies. Instead of killing the Night King, Arya managed to kill an Other - this resulted in a large portion of the wights dying, and enough time for the Northern people to begin to scatter. Note, it is also unclear in this verse if Bran is alive or dead, and that is also up for negotiation. The casualties that take place in their attempted retreat are enormous, thus leading to more wights, and very few managing to escape. In this canon, Daenerys is harmed after her fall from Drogon, though Jorah is still very much alive.

Forced to retreat South, and find what little resources they can, the remainder of the Northern forces must reach an agreement with Cersei, who is admittedly shaken at the fall of the Northern forces. In this verse, as part of that agreement, Jon Snow is taken as prisoner until the battle, to ensure that this is not a trap for Daenerys to take power.

SUBVERSE NOTE HERE: There is also a subverse here wherein Daenerys herself offers up her own claim to the throne in exchange for support from the South. This agreement also extends to her own execution following the potential success of the battle - a deal she would agree to, given that there are more important things than the throne at this point, though her key condition would be that the North is left alone and untouched by the South.

Within this verse, the battle for the Long Night continues on to an extended battle at King’s Landing, with the dragons fighting over the Dragonpit, until the Night King is separated from Viserion once again. In most canons, unless specified otherwise, I will also have Daenerys as pregnant during this fight - and with that in mind, she fights anyway because she would never let the dragons fight a battle without her. She is their mother.

SUBVERSE NOTE HERE: There is also an alternate subverse here where Daenerys does, in fact, temper Lightbringer for Jon as Nissa Nissa once did for Azor Ahai, and once again, we can all thank Fil for this. In this verse, she willingly gives her life to temper his sword.

Following this time, we welcome a dream of spring easily, given that the people of King’s Landing have seen her saving them from the darkness, and that timeline will take place in a separate part of the overarching verse.

⋰ ⊰ 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅. ┊┊ set during season 8 timeline, post bow.

This verse follows the show theory, that the big bad is not in fact the Night King, but the purpose of the story is the fight for the Iron Throne. As a result, any deaths in 8.03 will be considered canon in this verse unless plotting dictates otherwise. In this verse, after rest and recovery of her armies, Daenerys begins the fight for the Iron Throne by travelling South once more. Firstly basing herself at Dragonstone, and then travelling closer to King’s Landing. Any events of 8.04 ( Rhaegal’s death, Missandei’s death, the Greyjoy ambush ) will not be considered canon in this verse unless we explicitly discuss otherwise.

In the actual attack on King’s Landing, the main focus for Daenerys will be eradicating the scorpions on the castle walls. In conjunction with @tymptir and her lovely Greyjoys, there is potential for Rhaegal to be used against her via Dragonbinder, or alternatively, for Euron to lose at an earlier stage of the battle ( because presumably it’s not over so shortly ) and to make an agreement in exchange for his own life, to betray Cersei. In verses where that is void, either Yara/Asha Greyjoy can lead the charge against the Iron Fleet with the remainder of her own, or alternatively, Daenerys will burn it herself. If and only if Varys betrays Daenerys, will she consider executing him - and no, Tyrion will not be betraying her in this verse. She has the support of her Hand, at the least, and she will not abandon him.

SUBVERSE NOTE HERE: Another subverse! In this one, I’m going to be controversial and embrace the madness storyline - but not done the way the show did. In this verse, upon her attack to King’s Landing, Daenerys accidentally sets off the wildfire in the city, and the guilt at finishing what her father started causes her psyche to fracture, unable to split reality from fiction. In this verse, she either loses her unborn child or Drogon, and her madness manifests in seeing visions of herself as if she was standing in the room with her. Grief and isolation cause her to want to take her own life.

Once breaking through the walls to King’s Landing, and once the armies there see what forces she brings, a surrender is quick to follow - and is one she takes gladly. Resources are distributed to the citizens of the city to ensure they don’t suffer while the transition of power happens. Cersei’s fate is up for negotiation, though I defer to the theory that either of her younger brothers will deal with her long before Daenerys has to. She takes the throne quickly after.

⋰ ⊰ 𝒂 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈. ┊┊ set in the future.

This verse, finally, takes place after Daenerys is in power. In default, she will take Jon as her husband - though he will not rule as King, but instead by personal choice, takes the title of Consort. Her rule is a peaceful one, granting Northern independence - and truth be told, if any others ask for independence, so long as they prove themselves happy and functioning, she will grant it. Every year, she travels to Meereen several times to check on how progress is going there, and instills forms of welfare and many orphanages within King’s Landing, as well as basic forms of education and skills trades for all. Tyrion remains her Hand.

She knows that a perfect world isn’t created over one lifetime, and eventually if there will be a broken wheel for all, then she’s okay with the idea - but for now, it’s about building the city from the ground up so that no one knows what it’s like to not have a home, not like she did.

⋰ ⊰ 𝒂 𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅. ┊┊ official season 8 ending verse.

This verse is the closest to the canon for season 8 that you’ll ever see me come, and is based on theories like this one here. In this verse, Cersei frames Daenerys by setting off the wildfire around King’s Landing ( referencing that one line about Cersei “having other plans for the Dragon Queen ) after the bells have been rung, making it look like she didn’t accept the surrender ( and making Dany herself think that she herself set it off, by the timing of it all ). Blaming herself for the thousands of deaths that have now occurred, and believing she is responsible for the deaths of so many innocents, Daenerys begins to burn the Red Keep itself as the city burns around them.

Between the losses of everyone she’s loved and knowing she’s being betrayed by so many people, and adding the guilt of her actions, this verse ends in her taking her own life with her last conscious thought urging Drogon to destroy the Iron Throne. ( Note that if you would rather it be Jon who kills her, then I’m not opposed to the idea, but it’ll require plotting beforehand to clarify! )

In this verse, Drogon carries her body away towards Volantis, and either Red Priestess revives her, or in burning her body, Drogon manages to revive his mother as per the fire and blood rituals that have saved her before. This verse was also written in collaboration with @killthebxy.

#verses #i. headcanons. » a dragon is not a slave. «#tag drop #v. canon. » if i look back; i am lost. «#v. canon alt. » the big house with the red door. «#v. canon alt. » at the end of the world. «#v. canon. » the long night is here. «#v. canon alt. » a dragon is not a slave. «#v. canon alt. » her strength and her courage all went into the steel. «#v. canon. » with fire and blood. «#v. canon alt. » queen of the ashes. «#v. canon. » a dream of spring. «#v. canon. » a targaryen alone in the world. «#long post #long post cw

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lya-dustin · 1 year

Text

A Preview for the Bridgerton! AU

Aemond x male!reader ft.lesbian!Helaena and so many refrences to Rhaena Targaryen, the OG Targaryen Lesbian and rider of Dreamfyre.

Thank you @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly for the idea

Gif by @divineandmajesticinone

After Helaena and Aegon petitioned their father to stop Ser Otto and the Queen to force them into marriage, court had been filled to the brim with eligible bachelors.

All simpering fools who have the ambition to rival that of his grandsire and none of the personality nor good nature Laenor, the last man to marry a princess, had

Laenor ---despite his life of sin--- had been knighted in battle, able to charm birds off trees and, most importantly, a dragonrider.

Laenor had also not given a rat’s arse about what his wife did behind closed doors ---or in the stables as Aemond and Aegon discovered a lifetime ago.

This last part is of paramount importance due to what Aemond knows about his beloved sister.

Sweet Helaena should have been named Rhaena, he thinks as he tries to stop mother hearing his sister calling Lady Elisa Piper her darling wife.

Being her favorite brother and the only one who cares about her wellbeing, was not an easy job, but only he could do it.

Aegon just wanted her married so their dear mama could stop trying to annul his marriage to Cassandra Baratheon.

Daeron was too young and believed the choice should fall on whoever Helaena liked.

Only Rhaenyra backed this scheme of his, horribly enough.

The one-eyed prince found himself forgiving Lucerys after the forty-ninth letter written about his guilt and wished to offer his own eye in recompense.

“Perhaps, number nine and forty will win your approval.” Helaena had said as they met this man whom their sister gave a glowing recommendation.

He dressed well, was a knight and a lord.

Lord (Y/N) (L/N) was also handsome, charming and not a piece of dragonshit, or so Daemon had assured him in his letter.

Perfect for my sweet Helaena, Rhaenyra had added in hers.

“You said the same thing about numbers one to eight and forty, mandia.” Aemond said as he eyed you like a horse being brought forth by the horse courses yesterday.

#aemond x reader #aemond x male!reader #bridgerton!au #hotd fanfic

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mymothershumility · 5 years

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❛ I love you, Laira. ❜

past transmissions || { always accepting }

{ Part 2 } & { Part 3 } & { Part 4 } & { Part 5 }

{ @neverflownwithme } & { @truetargaryen }

Steps echo off the flagstones as they walk together, their path taking them beyond the walls of the gardens. The day had dawned cool, though the sun’s steady ascent into the sky has turned the temperature pleasantly warm as the hours have stretched. Beside her, she can feel Hal’s gaze on her. It hasn’t changed since they departed the council chambers.

Disapproving in some ways.

Fretful in all others.

Behind them, two Unsullied walk silently alongside two Highgarden soldiers and two archers from Sunspear. Irri, Jhiqui, and Missandei are with them as well, Irri having squeezed herself between Laira and Hal while Jhiqui has stationed herself on Laira’s free side. Missandei is pressed to Hal’s opposite side, hand wrapped securely in his.

Her original outing had been intended to be only Hal and her. However, Lady Olenna had protested vehemently against such a thought.

‘Already, our queen was nearly stolen from us amongst these very walls,’ she had said. ‘Our correspondence tells us that while she lives, her condition is delicate. I shall not send one of her two remaining siblings out among the people and risk a similar fate. Skilled as he is, even Lord Stark would be no match for a mob.’

Laira had thought to argue, thought to cite that two Unsullied, two Highgarden swords, and two Sunspear archers would be no match for a mob either. She had noted the grief that tinted Lady Olenna’s words as she had uttered them. She had noted the pain that clouded the gazes of everyone that had come into her sister’s company and remained faithful to her throughout her campaign.

She has been Daenerys’ heir since Yunkai, has been Princess of Dragonstone despite the throne, the kingdom, and the people of her own that await her back across the sea. With Helaena’s parentage revealed to them at Highgarden, it had been Daenerys’ wish to amend the line of succession. Such changes had not occurred before their enemies had struck a devastating blow against them.

Should anything happen to her before Daenerys’ return, the Seven Kingdoms will be without a queen and without an heir to ascend to the throne. And, without a queen or an heir, open war is likely to erupt between the already fragile peace that exists between the kingdoms.

Thus, she and Hal have acquired their additional company. Laira knows, if Hal had his own way, she would not be a part of this at all. It is obvious by the look he continues to cast in her direction… by the frown and the pinch of his brow.

“You do not intend to scowl at me the entire time, I hope,” Laira states, gaze darting to catch Hal’s own. For a few beats, silence stretches between the two of them. A telling sign of the tension that continues to remain not just between the two of them, but between all those that have been impacted by Daenerys’ attack.

A mere few weeks ago, such a comment would have sent Irri, Jhiqui, and even little Missandei into fits of giggles. Now, they barely blink at such a thing. It saddens her knowing how this has wounded them.

“I’m not scowling,” Hal defends, sighing after he speaks. “Not intentionally,” he amends. He goes quiet, expression smoothing as he looks over at his wife. “I cannot convince you to stay behind?” he asks, tone gentle. “I can make note of where rebuilding has been completed and the areas where work continues.”

Her lips quirk at his admission, her own expression softening as he speaks. Irksome as his overbearing moods can be at times, they all too often stem from places of love. “I would like to see the progress for myself,” she tells him, tone genuine and more patient than it had been just moments before. “The people need to see the Targaryen presence in a positive light. They need to know that we are here to aid them in whatever they might need.”

They needed to know that there was no need to fear them… that they were not the Mad King come again.

With Helaena currently tending to matters at Highgarden and Daenerys being ferried back from Asshai in grave condition, there is no other Targaryen in King’s Landing but her. The duty falls upon her and her alone for the time.

“You could see it from a litter or a wheelhouse in place of on foot,” he reminds. “It would be safer.”

“A wheelhouse may be unable to pass through certain areas if debris is still being cleared. And, I would not ask Lady Olenna to relinquish more of her men to carry me through the streets upon a litter. They have more important duties to fulfill.” It is not her desire to seem unapproachable or beyond reach to the citizens she is trekking out to meet. A litter or wheelhouse will make her appear just that. “I have faith that not only will our retinue be capable of keeping me safe, but you will be capable of doing so as well.”

Dark Sister nor Dark Star are in her possession for this outing among the smallfolk, Laira believing that the presence of the Valyrian steel blades would have made her seem all the more intimidating. Vigilance hangs at Hal’s side, though, and their retinue carries their own weapons of choice. They are armed well enough for the time.

Beyond the walls of the Red Keep, the damage done by Cersei’s wildfire is palpable. Repairs have come quite a way since the sack and the trap that the Lioness had laid. Laira still recalls that momentary grip of fear when she had seen the flashes of emerald flame erupt within the city while she flew atop Viserion to decimate the remaining forces of Euron’s gathered fleet out among Blackwater Bay. Close to half of the city had been taken by the flames in the Lioness’ desperate final attempt to keep her hold on the throne.

“Do we know what areas of the city were damaged most during the sack and the wildfire explosions?” Laira asks, their path taking them down cobblestone roads. She remembers the last time she had entered King’s Landing after her own exile from Jayd, remembers how crowded the streets had been. Now, they feel practically empty.

“Flea Bottom was decimated,” Hal tells her, his own eyes looking around the streets as they walk. This area of the capital is not as damaged as others. Still, there are burned buildings. Debris is also heavy in the streets. “There was a great amount of damage done to the northern portion of the city. Cersei set the caches of wildfire so that once one ignited, the others followed in a chain reaction.”

Such a report makes her frown. The destruction of the Great Sept of Baelor had impacted a great part of the southern area of the city. Now, the northern area of the city lays in practical ruin.

All for the throne.

All for greed and for power.

The citizens that walk among the streets pay them little mind as they pass by. The Unsullied and the Dornish forces patrol the city continuously. Four of them accompanying a lord such as Hal through the streets is unlikely to raise questions.

Laira makes note of her concerns as they continue their trek, noticing that while a great number of businesses have been repaired, a great many homes remain untouched.

As they near one of the main remaining squares within the city, Laira notices that the activity along the streets begins to increase. More people begin to notice them, some of them stepping to the side as they walk. Even more bow or offer murmured bits of pleasantry to her when she is near enough.

Her hair is what gives her away, she knows, even with it drawn back and braided down her back. She hardly looks the image of the queens the citizens have come to know in the past. Dressed in a simple Pentoshi gown made of layered pale green silk from the Jade Sea, she has cinched the gown at her middle with a belt of spun silver. Slit to her hips on both sides, the gown allowed for her black riding leathers and boots to be worn underneath.

When they round a corner, Laira takes notice of an elderly woman struggling with a woven basket filled with damp freshly washed clothes. Motioning for the soldiers that have accompanied them to pause, Laira moves from their group. Irri and Jhiqui go with her, staying right on her heels.

“May I help you with that?” the queen questions.

The woman does not immediately glance up at her, still struggling to lift the basket. “Oh, thank you, dear,” she sighs, noticeable fatigue evident in her voice. “I may never get…” The woman’s voice tapers off in the end, her gaze having finally lifted. Her eyes go momentarily wide before she is stumbling over her words. “You-your Grace!” she finally manages. “Please forgive me!” she continues, attempting to kneel before the other.

Laira moves with her, hands catching the woman’s own so she can help her in straightening again. “There is no need for those types of things,” she insists. Not here. Not now. “Would you allow me to help you?” Laira asks again. “I will be glad to carry your basket wherever you wish.”

The woman stares at her for a long moment. When she answers, she sounds as if she is on the brink of tears. She squeezes Laira’s hands as if they are a lifeline to this world. “I… Yes, please. Thank you, Your Grace.”

With a smile, Laira releases the woman’s hands and bends to take up the woven basket. The woven handles on the sides of the basket are soft against her palms, the basket balanced easily along the curve of her hip. “Is there more that you require aid with?” she asks. “More baskets? Other items?” She notices the sheepish expression that crosses the woman’s face and continues, “We are glad to offer you aid no matter how much.”

“I have another basket of clothes,” the woman murmurs. “And a small bag of supplies.”

Laira turns, finds that Missandei has found the woman’s second basket just behind them. Hal is on her heels, ruffling her hair affectionately before hefting the basket up himself. Missandei giggles for the first time since Drogon had disappeared with her sister, picking up the woman’s soft leather bag containing her supplies.

“This one will carry it for you,” Missandei proclaims with a happy smile as she comes to the queen’s side.

“Would you like to show us to your destination?” Laira asks.

It is not as far a journey as Laira is anticipating. As they walk, Laira watches as Irri and Jhiqui both link their arms through the woman’s, aiding her as she walks along uneven ground and over broken pieces of cobblestone. Missandei keeps pace with them, Laira and Hal only a step or so behind them. Laira can hear Missandei speaking happily with the woman. Irri and Jhiqui even add bits to the conversation.

The woman –whose name is Alys– shares her residence with her three daughters and six granddaughters. It’s a small space and Laira wonders how they manage in such a space with so many of them. She wonders if they are all healthy… if they have enough food so that no one is going hungry.

She and Hal deposit the two baskets of laundry where the woman asks them to. Between her home and another building, lines have been strung to hang clothes. Alys slowly bends and plucks up a piece of still damp clothing and begins placing them along the lines to dry.

“May we help?” Missandei asks, looking first to Alys and then to the queen. “May we help? Please?”

“I am sure that Alys would love for you to help, little butterfly,” Laira says. Missandei’s entire demeanor brightens at the use of the nickname. She dives into the baskets with Irri and Jhiqui, the three girls chatting happily together and giggling with one another as they begin to place clothes, sheets, and blankets across the lines to dry in the midday sun. Laira joins them in their work, standing next to Jhiqui as she strings the clothes out along the section of line in front of her.

They’re halfway through the baskets when Laira feels two little tugs along the bottom of her dress. Glancing back, she finds two little girls standing behind her. They are a pair, near identical from their chestnut curls to their sweet little smiles. Their eyes are different, though. One little girl has dark brown eyes while the other has hazel eyes.

“Hello, sweetlings,” she greets them. For a moment, the basket of clothing is abandoned in favor of turning to kneel before the girls. “What are your names?” she asks them, all smiles and words tinged with soft laughter. Laira knows they cannot be more than three. Their mouths and hands are sticky and red with remnants of what looks to be strawberry preserves from their breakfast.

“Jenny,” the girl with hazel eyes answers, her voice shy.

“Aemma,” the girl with dark brown eyes follows, voice just as shy as her twin. She stares a long moment at Laira, little fingers reaching hesitantly for her. Her fingers land in the edges of Laira’s braid. “Pwetty,” Aemma whispers.

“Thank you,” Laira tells them. “I think that your hair is pretty as well,” she goes on, tapping lightly at the curls bouncing around their shoulders. Her compliment makes them both giggle while their cheeks turn pink.

“Aemma! Jenny!” Laira hears from behind her. She turns to see Alys moving towards the girls in a near panic. “Please forgive my granddaughters, Your Grace,” she pleads. “They have soiled your dress.”

Amethyst eyes look down at the hem of her dress where the girls had tugged upon it. There are noticeable red stains upon the pale green fabric. It matches the same red that now dots the edge of her braid where Aemma had let her little fingers trail through the hair.

When Laira looks back to the girls, their faces have fallen. They are both staring at the ground, clasping each other’s hands. There are tears in their eyes from the scolding tone that their grandmother had just used with them.

“They have done no harm,” Laira assures. “My dress will wash quite easily.”

“Sowwy,” Jenny whispers, sniffling a little.

“Are you mad?” Aemma asks.

“No, sweetlings,” Laira tells them. “Not at all. You did nothing wrong.”

The girls brighten with her reassurances, little hands reaching to take her own. “Come meet Mama!” Jenny exclaims, all her tears and sniffles forgotten.

“Pwease come meet her!” Aemma chimes in.

Laira finds herself led to the shop just next door. The girls’ mother is a young seamstress, one that is noticeably gifted when Laira is given the opportunity to see pieces of her craft. The short meeting quickly morphs into something more entirely as she lingers in the small shop with the twins, their aunts, their cousins, and their mother, Sera.

The queen’s fears are confirmed as she listens to Sera and her sisters. Their husbands and brothers are all dead, their brothers having perished during the latter stages of the Rebellion while their husbands had died during the Battle of the Blackwater.

Even with their mother and all of them working and living in the same space, they are barely scraping by from week to week. Alys is a cook and baker while Sera is a seamstress. Sera’s sister, Alyssa, is a cook and baker like their mother. Her second sister, Ella, is a jeweler, though she is also quite gifted in sewing and often aids Sera when it is needed. Such trades should have allowed for basic needs. And yet, with the state of Westeros the last several years, there has been no gain for them.

Laira buys pork pies and blueberry tarts for those that travelled out with her that day from Alyssa’s little food cart just outside the family’s home. She buys a small silver comb with butterflies engraved in the metal for Missandei and two bronze bracelets with dragons engraved on them for Irri and Jhiqui. Based off the reaction that Ella gives when she requests to buy the items, it is the first business that she has had in quite a time. From Sera, she has a different request. Laira wishes to ask the other something before, though.

“May I ask you a question, Sera?” she voices, eyes studying little Jenny’s curls as she gently braids the strands. The child is sitting quietly in her lap, focus devoted to a picture that she is drawing on a spare piece of parchment that she has been given. Aemma is following her sister’s own activity, sprawled across the floor drawing as she awaits her turn for the queen to braid her hair.

“Of course, Your Grace,” Sera murmurs. Her own attention leaves the dress that she is busy mending, looking across the table to where the queen sits.

“Would you and your family consider coming to work in the Red Keep?” she asks. Silence follows her question, makes Laira look up at the other. Sera is staring across the space at her, seemingly stunned by her question.

“Your Grace?” Sera finally manages. “Work in the Red Keep?”

“Only if you so desire,” Laira assures. “You would each be compensated for the trades that you are well versed in and the work that you do. You would also be provided housing and anything else you might require.” Medicine, clothing, shelter, protection, and a decent wage. The crown can give them that in exchange for their craft. Finishing with Jenny’s braid, Laira helps the girl slide back to the floor so that Aemma may have her turn.

“I… that is a most generous offer, Your Grace. I do not know what to say.”

“You do not need to give me an answer now. You need time to consider such an offer, to discuss it with your sisters, your mother, and your nieces.” Fingers working through Aemma’s hair, Laira sections the strands off and begins braiding the child’s chestnut colored hair.

“Could… could you return tomorrow, Your Grace?” Sera asks, voice soft. “So that we may have time to speak together?”

Laira smiles softly as she continues her work on Aemma’s hair. “I would be delighted to return. It will allow me time to consider the item that I would like to commission from you.”

It is near dark when she and the rest of her group make the trek back into the gardens of the Red Keep. There is a remarkable difference in them when they return. Irri, Jhiqui, and Missandei chat among one another ahead of everyone, turning every so often to giggle at Laira walking arm in arm with Hal.

Between her and her husband, there is a noticeable peace as well. Laira had not been the only one to help those in need during their outing. While she had been aiding Alys and then speaking with her daughters, Hal and the soldiers from Sunspear and Highgarden had aided a man in the rebuilding of his home just two buildings down from Alys’ home. The Unsullied had remained behind to help watch over her as well as Daenerys’ handmaids.

The outing had done as Laira had wished all along. The people had noticed her in the square, had started to come to her as the afternoon went on. Some had been to express concerns or needs. Others to offer thanks for what had been done so far. Laira only hopes that word travels and that other citizens within the city hear that the Targaryen presence in King’s Landing is, in fact, a positive one.

As she begins to ready for bed later that evening, Laira watches the moon rising up over the water of Blackwater Bay. It is little more than a crescent, a silver curve against the inky darkness of the sky. Having bathed when they had returned, her hair remains damp as she begins to loosely braid it. It will help to keep it from tangling during the night and will allow it to set in soft waves for tomorrow.

A smile curves her mouth when a palm presses gently against her stomach over the silk of her chemise. She hums at the feel of the kiss that Hal brushes first against the crown of her head and then down along the line of her shoulder.

“They adored you today,” he tells her. He has always believed that they would, had seen it for himself during their time together in Highgarden. He knows, however, the toll that lies can have on even the kindest and most just of individuals.

And, Cersei Lannister had been a master of weaving intricate webs of deceitful lies.

“Then they shall love Daenerys,” Laira murmurs, her hands finishing her braid. She ties it off with a piece of silken crimson ribbon before allowing her hands to fall atop his own. There is nothing to be felt or seen beneath where their hands now rest together. There is the faintest hint of a swell to her belly beginning, though Laira seems more aware of it than Hal does.

What Laira is capable of feeling, though, is more love than she ever believed possible.

“I love you, Laira,” Hal tells her, pressing another kiss to the line of her shoulder. “And, she’s going to love you as well.”

Laira chuckles at his declaration, rising from her cushioned bench so that she can turn and step into his waiting arms. “She?” Her arms reach up to link about his neck, briefly stretching onto the tips of her toes to make the act more comfortable. “Are you now having dragon dreams, my lord husband? Have you seen her?”

“Your teasing wounds me,” Hal returns, fighting against a laugh of his own. He winds his arms around her, palms pressing lightly against her chemise covered skin while his fingers gently touch against the small of her back. “Do you think otherwise?”

“I am not arguing against your declaration,” she insists, though her expression is entirely amused. “I will be happy with a daughter or a son, so long as they are healthy.”

“Then we share a common desire,” Hal murmurs to her, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I am going to look after you,” he tells her. “Both of you. I am not going to let anything harm you.”

“That is something I have never doubted, my love.”

{ @fullrangeofemotions & @shewhoisironborn & @adornishviper & @viperparamour & @ialwayswasthebest & @hisvipereyes & @xcoatlicuex & @aladyofwinterfell & @anunfailingkindness & @therosesofhighgarden & @iveneverbeenagoodgirl }

#neverflownwithme #;transmissions #v; fire cannot kill a dragon #;drabble #otp; you are the light in the dark

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medschoolash · 5 years

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1/Do you think the final 3 episodes will top this one? What do you think of what Sansa said to Tyrion and why did she say it and what do you think Messindeis reaction? I hate it cause it's like you're the best for not raping me and tutoring me like Ramsay did when I was your familys captive and your child bride. Sansa's getting so much hate for that scene and I'm not sure why they added it in the first place, what are we getting from this conversation?But the entire crypts scenes were a mess imo

2/ I've seen someone on twitter say she needs redemption arc💀💀💀💀 cause she hasn't done anything good in their eyes and the whole knights of the vale thing and "undermining Jon" and hating Dany. Someone even mocked her for being raped and the wording of his mockery is so disgusting, I swear I'm not making this up. Like, this makes me wonder what does the writer want for her? Nothing is being perceived well about her

first, thank you so much for wanting my opinion on this! :)

I think the final three episodes might not top episode 3 in spectacle department but I think the final 3 episodes will have more compelling drama than the first 3 combined. Things are about to get really messy and it’s gonna happen fast. i’m really excited about it.

As far as Sansa’s words to Tyrion. I think that there are two parts to her behavior. I think a part of her wanted to connect with the only person she had any sort of decent history with at that moment. she was terrified and without her family. She clearly wanted to be out there with her people and at her sister’s side but she knew it wasn’t safe so she was stuck in the dark with a bunch of people she’s not that close to with the fear that she could die at any minute of the WWs breech the entry to the crypts. Tyrion was the only person down there she had any real connection to so it was natural for her to want to connect with him. Despite their marriage being arranged and what his family did to her family Sansa see’s Tyrion as someone who was decent to her at a time when no one else was. I know book Tyrion was different but in show canon from Sansa’s POV Tyrion never tried to force himself on her, he tried to comfort her when her family was murdered, and he tried to protect her from joffrey as best as he could so I think she will always have a certain fondness from him for the simple fact that he was decent at a time when she was starved of common decency from everyone else. I think sharing that moment with Tyrion helped Sansa feel less alone down there and was a good distraction.

I also think that Sansa has recognized that Tyrion as a clear soft spot for her. He sought her out soon after he got to Winterfell. He looks at her with a certain mix of longing and admiration. He keeps mentioning how they were married and alluding to wishing they still were. So I think that even though the first part of her communication with him was about making a genuine connection with someone familiar in a terrifying situation, the second part of her conversation to him was about her planting seeds for the future if there is one. Sansa knows that Tyrion and Dany’s relationship is hot and cold and Tyrion is insecure about his position with her. She also knows that Dany has doubts about him despite her recent outward show of confidence in him. I think she also knows exactly what is driving Tyrion and she’s already mentioned that men do stupid things for “love”. Tyrion’s rocky relationship with the woman that Sansa clearly opposes and his clear soft spot for her means that Sansa is a clear avenue to manipulate a valuable player of the game for her own cause. I don’t for a second think she would ever give Tyrion a chance but she wanted a light moment with him and she wanted Tyrion to think that he has a chance if he shifts his loyalties to her later down the line. Getting Dany’s had to betray her and join her cause , as well as securing the loyalty of one of the better thinkers in the realm would be HUGE in Sansa’s quest to get the north from under Dany and Sansa knows this so she’s slowly setting that play in motion and honestly I think that it just might work because Tyrion won’t be forgetting what they shared in those crypts on the brink of death anytime soon. Sansa knows that she can’t beat dany on manpower alone, Dany has 2 dragons, if she’s gonna dethrone her she’s gonna have to be smart, meticulous, and subtle in her approach and this is more of her doing that.

as far as the idea that Sansa needs redemption goes, I’m sure that’s from someone who never liked Sansa to begin with. In order for someone to need redemption they have to commit egregious sins, and contrary to what the fanboys and Dany ass kickers think being born a traditionally feminine woman in a male dominated world is not a sin that requires redemption. The writers have slowly made Sansa one of the major players in the game and have slowly built up her leadership and loyalty from the people around her while showing the exact opposite of her rivals. They have also showed more than once that Sansa is usually always right. She was right about Jon’s trip to Dragonstone, she was right about Ramsey in the BOTB, she was right about Cersei, she was right about Jon letting the Karstarks and the Umbers off easy only showed other houses that they can also be disloyal and escape punishment which is why Lord Glover abandoned Jon and the war AGAIN. She also predicted exactly how the northern lords would react to Jon’s extended absence. Certain people choose to ignore this because they refuse to acknowledge that Sansa is a real threat to their favorite even tho it’s been established over and over at this point. Sansa is Dany’s rival right now even thought Dany only sees her as a minor nuisance on her quest to the bigger problem in Cersei but I suspect she will learn soon enough that she should have paid more attention to the threat Sansa posed to her because Sansa will snatch everything she holds dear right from under her without every having to lift a finger or swords.

Basically the writer’s plan for Sansa is LEADERSHIP. She’s clearly being positioned as a contender for a crown and as a rival for Dany. At this point the only question left is which crown that is, the northern crown or the crown of the 7 kindgoms. The sansa haters know this and that’s why they made, it’s not that they aren’t picking up on it, they are, they just refuse to acknowledge it and think that nitpicking her every move and bringing up old stuff will someone make that reality go away.

#answered #sansa stark #sansa stark commentary #got commentary #Anonymous

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0urbladesaresharp · 5 years

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Hi! I just recently got into the GOT fandom and series (and also just finished reading 'The Young Wolf's Prince' which was AMAZING and was 1000% better than canon) and saw that you mentioned that the show ruined jon's character arc. I was curious as to why you thought so? (I don't really have an opinion yet but you seem to have such a good understanding of the characters.)

Ah! Welcome to the fandom! I’m sorry in advance for crazy fans and stans, and thank you soooo much for your awesome words. I’m so glad you liked me story and, yeah, I’m liking my own ending WAY more.

Okay, Jon. This might get long, but here’s my own analysis on Jon’s character butchering.

So, yeah, that would have been during the hell that was season 7, where I really just could not with D&D. Jon’s arc, for six seasons, was moving beyond his brooding, self-righteous anger about his upbringing and realizing what it means to be a true leader in his own right. Jon always tried to do the right thing, even if it meant betraying the woman he loved, going against the wishes of his men to save the lives of hundreds of Wildling men, women, and children, or working to protect the legacy of Robb in securing safety and independence for the North. Jon came a long ways from the sad and, frankly, kind of shitty child in the first book/season to become a fantastic character. He wasn’t the “ever honorable” man his father was, he knew how to double-cross those who trusted him to do the right thing, and he was willing to risk his own life to save those under his protection.

By the end of season 6, we are set up for a great conflict-triangle because it ends with Cersei, Jon, and Daenerys fulfilling their dreams (less-so in Jon’s case, because he never wanted to be KitN, but let’s say it was pretty much his “destiny”). This was the conflict we went into season 7 expecting. And Jon on the throne seemed to have a great support structure behind him. Sansa even supported him, despite Baelish trying to sway her against him.

Then, season 7. Sansa warns Jon to be “smarter than father and Robb,” and if that isn’t telling, I don’t know what is. That line SHOULD have set up a beautiful plotline that introduces Jon to the Seven Kingdoms and the world as not just Ned Stark’s son (regardless of actual parentage), but as a major player in the game of thrones. Jon KNOWS how to play the idiot, how to play the lovesick fool. He did it before with the Wildlings. And then, he goes to Dragonstone and meets Danaerys, whose story arc beginning somewhere between season 2-3 but MAJORLY in season 5 was turning dark, and by season 7 it was fully underway. Jon and Daenerys’ endgame goals were completely different from one another. They wanted different things for their people, and it was obvious from the very tense moment they first met. Jon COULD have and SHOULD have begun playing the game, and many of us thought (re: hoped, prayed, honest to god believed) he WAS playing her.

But then, from the moment they met, we started seeing all of Jon’s character, his principles, his beliefs, sidelined to support Daenerys. Very rarely did we even see a scene with just Jon and maybe one other person he trusted after that third episode. Jon never ONCE sat down and talked to someone about how he felt. Instead, he became fully ensnared in Daenerys’ plotline and the North was basically forgotten in favor of it. Jon stopped being a king the moment D&D stopped allowing us to see his POV. And we haven’t seen it really since, until this last episode, the 5th of season 8, where Jon realizes that its partly his fault that Daenerys was able to burn KL to the ground.

We have not truly seen Jon express his own opinions outside of Daenerys’ sphere of influence for some time. Even when he’s alone with his siblings (and whatever the fuck Bran has become, that’s a whole different issue, jfc), he is only defending Daenerys and is not expressing his own thoughts and opinions. Do you know how frustrating that is? Jon Snow, a main POV who we have grown to love and root for for six seasons, has been reduced to a secondary character for the sake of Daenerys’ and his “epic romance” which was already lacking chemistry, but was then just nauseating to watch them try to keep it going after realizing they’re related (also, side note, D&D seem to be promoting incest this season? WTF??). So, cringefest and all that jazz.

This was super long, and I’m so sorry to have literally like word vomited all over your beautiful ask, but that’s what my opinion on Jon’s character arc is. My frustration is him being reduced to a prop for Daenerys’ fall from grace (which only her stans didn’t see coming). He no longer has any leadership abilities, lost all the respect and honor he earned over the last six seasons, no longer cares about his family’s legacy or the safety of his living family and friends, and he no longer has thoughts or emotions. Jon doesn’t even BROOD in season 8, so what the actual fuck? Thanks for coming to my TedTalk!

#jon snow #anti jonerys #daenerys targaryen #anti daenerys #anti d&d #asks #anosagnosia #erin says things #got #tywp

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