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shih-coulda-had-it · 3 years

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37. NanaHiko, please

37. “Because I love you goddammit!”

Consider this my sourdough starter for a Nanahiko Die Hard AU. If it ever comes into a fully-realized oneshot spectacular, well. Maybe for Christmas. Anyways, this is, believe or not, a break-up scene.

Fighting with Sorahiko is never pretty.

To clarify, Nana doesn’t mean physical fighting. They’ve honed that particular aspect of their partnership to near-perfection (always room for improvement), and when Nana has extricated herself from a fight, sometimes she has enough time to watch Sorahiko work his brutally efficient magic on loose ends.

That kind of fighting is pretty from a professional point of view.

Anyway, what Nana means is—having an argument with Sorahiko. It’s not the first time they’ve engaged in a war of cold shoulders and barbed words, digging up old insults and humiliating stories, resolved to leave reconciliation to the other party.

Nana has always thought it boded well that it never took a mortal injury to get either her or Sorahiko to apologize.

She is, however, very close to inflicting a mortal injury.

Sorahiko also looks close to committing partner-cide. They are spending a break from patrol by cooling their heels on a rooftop no employee bothers to spend a cigarette break at, and for the past ten minutes, have been politely exchanging words like, “Please do this,” and, “Fuck doing that.”

A full month has passed since Nana digested the whole conspiracy theory about a supervillain controlling Japan’s underground. En’s transferral of One for All had been traumatic for all parties involved, even if Sorahiko didn’t have to witness the horror that was the shoulder socket gushing blood and the half-buried body. Why? Because the first time Nana tested out her new Quirk, she had broken her notoriously hardy partner’s arm.

… It’s been a scary month all around.

“I’m not,” her partner grits out, “going to just quit being a pro-hero.”

“I didn’t say you should ditch the license,” Nana says reasonably.

“You might as well have!”

She rolls her eyes. “Splitting up for a solo career would probably mean better pay for you,” she reiterates. “Better pay, more taiyaki. You’d be a treat by yourself, Gran Torino. Any high-profile agency would want you on the payroll.”

“The salary isn’t the point,” Sorahiko snaps.

“And you shouldn’t conflate your position as a pro-hero with your position at the Eyrie! Don’t let the agency limit your ambitions!”

“What ambitions?”

“You know,” says Nana, gesturing aimlessly. She’s trapped herself with that useless encouragement. Sorahiko is so thoroughly unambitious, he would let a pet rock win an election to Prime Minister. “Whatever made you get into heroics.”

He stares at her.

“Get out there,” she adds. “Chase your dreams.”

“You’re being stupid,” he says.

“Don’t start.”

Sorahiko starts. His mouth twists into a snarl, eyebrows drawing together under the mask, frustration creeping into his posture. He is madder than she’s ever seen him, and Nana once witnessed Sorahiko yell bloody murder at his landlord. The landlord had been reduced to tears, and furthermore, had reduced the rent for the entire complex.

Nana does not intend to yield.

“First you inherit a transferable strength Quirk that knocks you out of commission for a week,” he says, “then you get all weird about tanking hits you know I can take, and now you’re advising I leave the Eyrie by myself? For my own good?”

“Yes,” she says, already feeling miserable.

“Are you on some kind of power trip?”

“No!”

His gloved hands curl into fists, mirroring Nana’s, or maybe she is mirroring him. Another side-effect of being friends for so long; she can’t imagine what kind of pro-hero she is without Gran Torino next to her.

A pro-hero that won’t drag their best friend into the worst conspiracy theory to come true.

“I won’t quit until you do,” Sorahiko swears. “Are we partners or not?”

“Partnerships dissolve.”

He flinches back for once. “You don’t mean that.”

“People sometimes grow in different ways. It doesn’t mean they’re abandoning their partner, it’s just… You don’t have any obligation to hold my hand for my entire career. If there’s a roadblock ahead, and you see it, you should be able to jump out of the car, right?”

“Shimura. Shut up.”

“I really mean it,” Nana continues doggedly. “One for All attracts way more attention than we agreed we should aim for, so if we split paths now, you don’t have to suffer all the cameras tracking and recording your moveset. Did I say cameras? I meant henchmen of some evil bastard. You didn’t sign up for this.”

“Don’t tell me what I did or didn’t sign up for,” he hisses.

“Well, I have to guess,” she says, “considering I never saw your origin story, haha!”

His face goes a blotchy pink, starting with his ears. Sorahiko’s jaw visibly clenches. Nana, however, is one-hundred percent serious. Despite being friends with Sorahiko from primary school up till now (excusing the few years of junior high), Nana still has no idea what drives Sorahiko to be Gran Torino.

Reuniting in Class 1-A of U.A. High had felt a bit like fate.

“You have to guess?” he grits out, sounding slightly incredulous.

“You’re a very private person. Ah, don’t tell me I’ve somehow forgot it.” Nana puts her hands at her hips, trying to drag this fight back into friendly banter. “Not for the applause. Not for the legacy, assuming the Commission ever gets their memorial site set up. Are you sure it wasn’t for the money?”

“Shimura.”

“C’mon,” she says coaxingly. “What’s the dream-goal, Gran Torino? Why heroics?”

“Shimura.”

“Don’t worry about harming my feelings! Oh! It’s for your namesake, huh? Ah, Sorahiko, you really gotta let that one go, I don’t think you’d have any fun driving around these streets. You’ll just scare all the pedestrians into throwing tomatoes at your precious baby—”

“Because I love you goddammit!” Sorahiko shouts, barking it loud enough to frighten some voyeuristic pigeons.

“What,” Nana says. She has to process his words even though they ring in her ears. His confession is a curse. Typical Sorahiko, Nana thinks hysterically, except this is not typical at all. Torino Sorahiko, admitting to love?

Torino Sorahiko, not being done yet, rails on. “Because you’re my best friend, and I like myself when I’m with you, so stop trying to cut me out of your life! If you—if you hate me, then just say it! Say I’m annoying! Clingy! Useless! Don’t just tell me to step out the front door and leave you behind!”

Oh, he’s properly mad now.

Thing is, Nana’s mad too.

“Don’t you use that against me,” she says, fury seeping in, because how dare he? Like confessing to loving her settles this argument, some deus ex-machina device that will defuse Nana’s very sincere attempt to prevent Sorahiko from being murdered. She can’t believe the nerve of her partner, trying to manipulate the part of her that’s a hopeless romantic. “Don’t lie.”

“Lie?” Sorahiko echoes, enraged. “You think—?”

“I think you would do a lot of things to win a fight,” Nana seethes.

“You’re impossible.”

She wants to punch his stupid face so badly, but Sorahiko’s hands are already scrabbling at his domino mask, ripping it off. After blinking several times to reorient his senses, he refocuses his glare at her.

“What part of that confession sounded fake?” he demands, crumpling the black silk-composite in one fist.

“The timing. The whole concept. Everything!”

“You don’t think I’m capable of it?”

“I didn’t say that,” Nana objects, but her immediate gut reaction had been to say, I’m not worthy of it. She has a name for Gran Torino’s behavior now—his loyalty, devotion, affection—he tied himself to her so long ago, and Nana never even knew she was holding a leash. How unfair to him, how stupid and shortsighted of her.

Sorahiko takes a step into Nana’s personal bubble. He persists. “Say you hate me.”

She can see where Sorahiko wants to take this.

“Do you hate me, Shimura?”

Nana bites her tongue from its reflexive denial; when she tries to lie, it sticks in her throat.

“Do you really want me to go?” Sorahiko asks, and without his mask, he looks vulnerable. Pale brown eyes catching the sunset, gleaming gold. How much of Sorahiko’s life has been deferring his dreams to follow hers? What has he given up that Nana’s never asked about? Does he have any commitments outside of heroics?

“I think,” Nana finally forces out, “we need some time apart.”

One beat of silence. Two.

“You’re not joking.”

“No.”

Sorahiko breathes, a steady and barely audible sound, and Nana finds herself mirroring it. She crosses her arms and looks to the horizon. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Sorahiko slowly uncrumpling his mask, smoothing out wrinkles with his forefinger and thumb. Methodical for a nervous tic.

“It’s not that you’ve done something wrong.”

“Spare me the bullshit,” he says. The bitter tone sends a chill through Nana’s heart, but she steels herself. “How long?”

“Long as we need,” she deflects.

“What’s the goal here?”

Nana glances at Gran Torino, notes the grim set of his expression, and restrains herself from poking at the down-turned twist to his frown. Instead, she says, “You said you like who you are when you’re with me. I don’t think you’ve ever really been without me, so… Figure yourself out, Gran Torino.”

“And Sky High?”

“We’ll shelve the idea for a later time,” says Nana weakly, as though running an agency together hasn’t been their—her?—dream since high school.

He grunts in acknowledgment.

Together, they survey the cityscape. They will finish the day’s patrol. Gran Torino will, for the first time, clock out early and storm home.

And Nana will quietly file her two-week notice.

There’s an international pro-hero exchange program being organized with the United States, and Nana intends to join. The probation period is a year; if Nana can make it through that, then she can apply to be a mentor to aspiring pro-heroes, all the while cultivating One for All on the side.

(She doesn’t mean to forget the confession. But then again, who knows if that’s really what Sorahiko felt for her?)

#bnha #nanahiko #shimura nana #torino sorahiko #gran torino #shih.txt #asks #anon #diehard!au #and YES sorahiko is cast as holly #and nana will show up in a few years #wearing a cool leather jacket #to the HPSC's Holiday Party #toshinori will also be present but he will unfortunately be made to stay in the car

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dwellordream · 4 years

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If you could rewrite Alysanne and J****erys’ daughters to make them fully-fledged characters instead of paper-thin stereotypes, what would you change? (Censored you-know-who’s name because we don’t acknowledge him in my house 🙅🏿‍♀️)

Lmfao at you-know-who. Daenerys: I actually think Fire and Blood does an okay job of building up Daenerys’ character (though of course it’s pretty obvious from her very first appearance she’s going to die tragically young, forever the ‘darling of the realm’). I don’t know, maybe we could have had a scene of her interacting with Aerea or Rhaena or something to get their reactions to her being heir for the first two years of her life before Aemon’s birth. Alyssa: My problem with Alyssa is not that she’s a tomboy. My problem with Alysaa is that she is a generic trope of ‘not like other girls!’ with no actual development. Unlike Arya’s very well-written arc in canon, Alyssa’s failure to conform to her society’s rigid gender roles and her interest in more traditionally masculine Westerosi pursuits like dueling, riding, climbing, etc is never examined in terms of how it effects her relationships with her family members and her thoughts about her future. There’s no scene like the one between Arya and Ned where Arya questions why she can’t be rule in her own right or build castles or advise kings, etc. There’s no detail given to how she got along with her mother and if Alysanne encouraged her ‘wild’ behavior or was more disapproving of it, etc. Despite all this attention paid to how Alyssa refuses to conform to the expected role of a ladylike and demure princess, she seemingly has no problems with being married off at 15 and being expected to stick to being a wife and mother? There’s absolutely no conflict there, and there should be. Even if she was really in love with Baelon and had no issues marrying him, I find it hard to believe that she would pivot from wanting to spar with her brothers in the training yard to telling Baelon, totally seriously, “You were made for battles, and I was made for this. ...As soon as I am well, let’s make another. An army of your own!” That seems like a pretty drastic shift in personality, and it’s never explained. Maegelle: Maegelle just needs more development, in general. She’s not this offensive character archetype, she’s just incredibly barebones, the barest outline of a character. Only one line is spared to her relationship with Alyssa, who was only two years older, and that is ‘Alyssa bristled at the baby at her skirts’. It would have been nice to see some interaction between them, any at all; they were close in age growing up, surely they spent time together, even if they had very different interests, and they must have been educated together by a septa. There’s also barely anything devoted to how Maegelle viewed Daella beyond being her ‘guiding star’. What does that mean? Was she protective of Daella? Did she spend more time with her little sister than the rest of the family? Was she upset when Daella was married off? How did she and Daella react to Alyssa’s untimely death? What about Maegelle’s ‘gift for healing’? When did that show up? When did she begin to study healing? What motherhouse did she go to? She was very bright, so what else did she like to study? Did she ever wish she could study at the Citadel? Did she correspond with Vaegon? Did she do any writing of her own? How did she help her parents resolve their conflicts? Did she help resolve any other political or familial strife? Did she wish for Viserys or Daemon to join the Faith as boys? Daella: Daella seems to have been intellectually disabled in some way. How did that affect her everyday life? To what extent was she aware of this? How did it affect the way her siblings treated her? Was she scared of her father, who she seemed incapable of pleasing, no matter what she did? She liked flowers, did she like to spend a lot of time in the gardens, or did she have a personal flower garden of her own that she tended to, like Myrcella in canon? What caused her to be scared of gardens? Was she bullied in one by her siblings? Daella didn’t speak until she was almost two. Was this scene as a cause for concern at the time? What did the maesters think? Did Maegelle teach her to read, and praise her when she was able to read aloud, albeit haltingly? Who were her other tutors? What did Alysanne and Jaehaerys think of her being known as ‘simple’? Why was she scared of Alyssa? Was Saera punished for her cruel pranks on Daella? Did Saera single her out because Daella annoyed her or because she felt Daella took up attention from their parents that Saera did not get? How much did Saera and Vaegon’s bullying contribute to Daella’s obvious anxiety and many phobias? Why was someone asking the 9 year old Daella when she would marry Vaegon? Why did Alysanne and Jaehaerys feel Daella needed to be wed at all? At the time they had plenty of healthy children who would presumably have multiple grandchildren to continue the Targaryen line. The overwhelming pressure for Daella to marry does not make sense when the family tree was still fairly vast in 77 AC. Why was Daella left alone with for young squires seemingly encouraged to flirt with and pursue her, a frightened teenage girl with a child-like mentality? Why was there no uproar over Simon trying to get her drunk, and Ellard forcing a kiss on her? Why was this incident seen as ‘Daella being picky’ and not an assault on a royal princess? What drew Daella to Royce Blackwood? Was he kind to her? Why did no one consider that Daella’s strong religious faith in the Seven might pose an obstacle to this marriage? Why could Daella not be permitted to wed in a sept and raise her children in an interfaith marriage, as Catelyn and Ned do in canon? Why did Jaehaerys feel Daella needed to be married off by the end of her sixteenth year seemingly for no reason other than annoyance? Why would the marriage of a royal princess be treated so lightly? Why did Jaehaerys then threaten to send Daella to the Silent Sisters when Alysanne asked why Daella could not wait to be married? Why did Jaehaerys hold such animosity towards his 16 year old daughter that he would rather her be forced into a severe religious order where she would likely never see her family again, rather than simply let her wait to marry or not marry at all? Why were two of the men Daella was then ordered to choose between old enough to be her father? Why was she not offered the choice of Rodrik’s sons or Boremund’s son? What was to be gained from wedding her to Rodrik, since her children by him would never inherit the Eyrie? Jaehaerys just decided to chuck politics out the window in order to be rid of her? He loathed his daughter that much at that point? Daella is given no voice following her marriage to Rodrik, nor is there any interrogation of his frankly disturbing interest in a 16 year old girl he’d known since birth and watched grow up over the years, calling her his ‘precious princess’ and seemingly fetishizing her naive, child-like innocence and fragile physical state? To add onto this, there is then zero outcry towards Rodrik himself when he proceeds to impregnate Daella, leading to her horrible death in childbirth. Why do we not even get Jaehaerys’ reaction to the realization that he essentially pushed his daughter into an early, agonizing death? Saera and Viserra: Saera is brave and clever but that gets one brief mention, and then the rest of the narrative spends all its time harping on how she’s an evil, sexy, manipulative teenage girl. Viserra is just a slightly watered down version of her. They don’t just need to be rewritten, they need actual personalities to work with, because they have none, they’re just plot devices with names designed to make their parents fight with each other. The same goes for Gael, who seems to just be ‘Daella 2.0′ in terms of being regarded as ‘simple-minded but sweet’, and then being raped (I don’t think Gael was capable of giving proper consent to sex or understood what that meant) and left to commit suicide after her stillborn son.

#alyssa targaryen #daenerys daughter of jaehaerys #maegelle targaryen #daella targaryen #viserra targaryen #saera targaryen #gael targaryen #ask #anon #fire and blood

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alicenttully · 4 years

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Born of Riverrun, Born of Winterfell

Notes: Instead of Robb, Sansa is born first at Riverrun.

Sansa is two. Old enough to understand that her mother is carrying a babe inside her, judging by the way she points her chubby finger at her stomach and says “baby!”; but not old enough to grasp what this could mean for her. That if Lady Catelyn’s prayers to the Mother are answered and she gives birth to a son, Sansa will no longer be her father’s heir just as she was no longer her father’s when Edmure was born. Once Catelyn pondered about the North adopting the Dornish custom where inheritance works differently, where a daughter can inherit her father’s seat just by the virtue of coming first into the world. Catelyn looks at Sansa and for a moment does not see the little girl that clings shyly to her skirts, but her as the Lady of Winterfell. But that would only pass if Catelyn produced no sons for her lord husband.

Without them, it makes the shame of Ned’s bastard even greater.

Catelyn remembers arriving at Winterfell, Sansa a few months old. Catelyn had given birth to her at her father’s castle. Her uncle Brynden had wept the first time he had held her. She had never seen her uncle cry before. Brynden told her that his ‘Little Cat’s’ ‘Mini-Cat’ was perfect, and Catelyn savoured his words; for she was, she absolutely was and for that moment it had been the three of them cocooned together in that small perfect world. In that small perfect world, Catelyn did not have to worry about whenever she would be made a widow if the man she married died before she knew him, or if the Crown prevailed and her entire House was put to a traitor’s death like that of House Darklyn, or if- if they prevailed, and her husband lived- would he disappointed that she had given him a daughter instead of a son? He had seemed so solemn and guarded at their wedding feast. But no wonder- the brother that Catelyn had been meant to marry was dead, along with their lord father. Butchered by the Mad King, and the Crown Prince had disappeared with his sister and Robert Baratheon’s betrothed. He had taken her maidenhead that night, and it had been coloured by duty more than anything. But his seed had quickened, and her stomach had soon swelled. Catelyn and her party had been met with an honor guard on the Kingsroad to escort them to Winterfell. Catelyn had learnt from one of them that Lord Stark had learnt of his daughter’s birth, but nothing was said of his feelings. It had not been until they were reunited again, and she had seen him with Sansa. She had introduced him to his daughter, and had shown him the proper way to hold Sansa.

“She is precious, my lady.” Ned had whispered. There was no trace of disappointment in his voice, and Catelyn had felt a great weight come off her shoulders.

Sansa had been taken then by Old Nan, a smiling, wrinkling old prune of a woman. Ned had needed to talk to Cat alone. He had been fidgeting, and his eyes were downcast. In that moment, he looked more like a vulnerable youth than a man who had tasted battle and had seen his friend crowned. Softly, he had said that he had ‘dishonoured’ their wedding vows, but that had not been the words that had caused Catelyn’s stomach to drop.

Most men did not keep to one bed, she knew. Her septa had taught her that, and had warned her that bastards were often born of these tumblings. Catelyn had always understood that, and she did not fault Ned for finding some comfort during the war.

But most men did not bring their bastards home either.

“What of his mother?” She asked, her voice even.

Ned had met her eyes then. “She will not trouble us, my lady.”

“And how will I know that?” Catelyn asked perhaps too sharply, but she had not cared. She was the Lady of Winterfell, a life she had been destined for since the age of twelve. She had a right to know. What if this woman tried whispering in her child’s ears?

“Because she – she is dead.”

He loves her, Catelyn realizes, with a jolt. Feasibly, that was just as dangerous – could the love he had for this woman’s ghost move him to raise her son to rights that were not his?

Because of this woman, would he ever come to love her?

For a time, she was not certain. He was attentive and kind- giving her the warmest bedchambers, ensuring that her lady maids treated her with the upmost respect. He had even begun the construction of a sept, so she would have the comfort of her gods. But there was still a distance between them, and Catelyn wonders how she can break it. In the meantime, she did her best to endeavour herself to the people of Winterfell, and it soon worked well- for there was no whisperings of her southerners. Sansa undoubtedly helped- she had delighted and charmed the castle folk; her nurse was half in love with her – saying she was “the sweetest little thing I’ve had looking after, m’lady”.

A kind husband is something that many women will never know. She consoled herself with that. Ned was kind to her, and a good father to Sansa, by the way he took every opportunity to hold her, and listened attentively to her nurse about her progress. A kind husband and a loving father is more than enough.

It does not happen all at once, but bit by bit. The first begins when he asks her shyly to wear her hair one day, gingerly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. When she tells him stories of herself as a girl at Riverrun, making mudpies with her sister – he breaks into a laugh and says that he hopes she will not except him to eat any. In turn, he begins opening up about his time in the Eyrie; of how Robert was perhaps a brother to him in the way Brandon and Benjen were not. That sometimes he worries that when people look at him, they see Brandon instead. She sees that he is wrong- observing the way he interacts with his people; offering a place at his table for one of his household. Vayon Poole, Winterfell’s steward who has a little girl Sansa’s age. Rodrik Cassel, master-of-arms and who had already been a man grown when Ned was born. Old Nan, with her stories. Just like their wedding night, their coupling had been shy, awkward fumblings. Soon, as they get to know each other better- they become familiar with each other bodies as well. After one of these passionate embraces, they laid together arms and legs twined together. Catelyn could feel the fierce thudding of Ned’s heart as she laid her head against his chest, and in that moment, there was no other place she’d rather be. It does not happen all at once, but she eventually finds the sweet heart shielded by his solemnity.

It is after one of these couplings that Catelyn soon misses her moonblood. When she feels the familiar sickness, Maester Luwin soon confirms her suspicions. When she tells Ned, she is with child again, Ned’s face glows as he takes her into his arms. As he holds her, Catelyn makes a silent promise to herself that she will give him a son.

Years later, she will wonder why nobody realized it before then. She goes into labour in the middle of the night, and just before the dawn breaks – Maester Luwin lifts her babe in the air. Red-faced and kicking, and undeniably a boy. Catelyn’s arms ached to hold him- but Maester Luwin’s eyes had gone wide when he had looked between her legs and realized there was another head crowing. Catelyn didn’t have the time to process anything as Maester Luwin urges her to push again. In minutes, she gives birth again. This time, to a girl. Smaller than her twin, but her screams rivalled his.

Later, Ned comes to meet his new son and daughter, carrying Sansa in his arms. Sansa is wide-eyed as she stares in fascination at the sleeping babes, her thumb cradled in her mouth; a habit that Catelyn needs to break.

After holding their son, Ned takes their daughter into his arms. Sansa is nestled beside Catelyn on the bed, and laughs in delight when the babe clutches her finger.

“What do you think of Brandon, my lord?” Catelyn asks. Perhaps I can ease his guilt about taking his brother’s place by naming our son in his honour.

Ned takes her hand and kisses it. “Brandon.” He repeats, the words solemn as an oath. He says it the same way that she has come to notice he says Sansa’s – he speaks it with careful tenderness.

Ned presses his lips to their daughter’s forehead before placing her in the crook of Catelyn’s left arm. “And what of this one?” Ned asks, as Catelyn holds both her son and daughter.

Catelyn thinks for a moment. “Arya”. The moment she says it, she cannot imagine any other name. By the way Ned smiles- he agrees.

“It’s perfect. They’re perfect. You’re perfect.” Ned kisses her fiercely, and Catelyn feels a fire ignite within her at the quiet intensity of his words. “I still cannot believe that nobody realized you were carrying twins. It truly is surprising.”

Catelyn smiles at Arya. Sansa has switched her attention to Arya now, and presses little kisses against her cheek, soft and swift as the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings.

“I have a feeling she will continue to surprise us, my lord.”

#sansa stark #arya stark #bran stark #catelyn stark #jon snow #ned stark #brynden tully #asoiaf #game of thrones #got #AU #my writing

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kingsmakers · 5 years

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All of your GoT ocs for the oc profile ask

Full Name: Shaera TargaryenGender and Sexuality: Female / BisexualPronouns: She/herEthnicity/Species: Dornish & Valyrian / HumanBirthplace and Birthdate: King’s Landing, Crownlands. 280AL.Guilty Pleasures: Actually enjoys donning nice dresses, when she manages to beat her twin brother when they duel, studying High Valyrian.Phobias: Someone betraying her trust. Shaera is betrayed several times through the course of her story, so it’s incredibly difficult for her to put her trust in someone, and when she does she’s so afraid that it will be used against her.What They Would Be Famous For: I would say for being a fantastic female monarch of Westeros. Shaera rules knowing it’s her duty and she doesn’t believe it’s a ‘right’ just because it’s her inheritance. She takes her responsibilities seriously, so she would be a much-loved queen.What They Would Get Arrested For: Damage to property or something of the like.OC You Ship Them With: Hmm this is tough. I can honestly see her having a bit of a crush on @have-fun-storming-the-kastle‘s Myra Stark, or @perfectlystiles‘s Celaena Baratheon.OC Most Likely To Murder Them: I feel like @susiesamurai‘s Ysaviel Martell would either love or hate her, since they’re technically cousins.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: TragedyLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: Love trianglesTalents and/or Powers: Shaera is adept with small knives. Her Dornish side of the family considered it mandatory that she know how to fight, like her cousins the Sand Snakes. Shaera is also very emotionally intuitive, and in touch with her own feelings as well.Why Someone Might Love Them: Although dedicated to do her duty, Shaera isn’t emotionless - in fact she’s quite passionate and sensitive. She makes a very good friend, and you could definitely rely on her in times of crisis.Why Someone Might Hate Them: Sometimes, Shaera’s emotions can get the better of her - such as her impulsive marriage to Robb Stark. Although she sees the bigger picture, she does also have a bit of a self-absorbed element about her at times.How They Change: Shaera becomes a more level-headed and sensible leader. Initially she is passionate and subject to following whims, whilst as she matures, she thinks things through and makes decisions with more responsibility.Why You Love Them: Shaera is just a precious bean who deserves to be protected at all costs, like she’s honestly dealt a very harsh hand (by me, oops) and she’s just trying to cope with everything she’s experienced.

Full Name: Tamara ArrynGender and Sexuality: Female / HeterosexualPronouns: She/herEthnicity/Species: Andal / HumanBirthplace and Birthdate: The Eyrie, The Vale. 281AL.Guilty Pleasures: Coordinating pretty jewellery with her gowns, spending time with her children, sassing Cersei.Phobias: Losing her children or any other members of her family.What They Would Be Famous For: Most probably for being the last neutral party in Westeros. By the time Tamara swore allegiance to Aegon, she was the last of the Great Houses to choose a ‘side’.What They Would Get Arrested For: Probably murder or manslaughter - oh wait...OC You Ship Them With: Hmm I can’t really think of any male ocs but her and @starcrossedjedis‘s Tarlesyn Sand might get along!OC Most Likely To Murder Them: There are probably a bunch, anyone who’s pro-Daenerys really.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: DramaLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: Ambitious women being ‘evil’.Talents and/or Powers: Tamara has grown incredibly good at manipulation. She reads people well, learns their strengths and weaknesses. Her skill at twisting people around her little finger is what led to her alliance with Aegon being mutually beneficial.Why Someone Might Love Them: Despite her machinations, Tamara can be witty and clever to benefit her family. She loves her children dearly, and doesn’t believe in overlooking her daughter when she has a son. She treats them both equally.Why Someone Might Hate Them: She’s ambitious and can overreach herself. She is also not afraid to make drastic moves to achieve the end result she wants - and it will eventually be her downfall.How They Change: Tamara was initially extremely proud and unwilling to accept that she might be able to have feelings for Jaime. Over time she’s realised that feelings aren’t weakness and she’s allowed to love her husband. She has also grown better at playing the game, and is soon to make a series of bold moves that will either make or break her.Why You Love Them: I see Tamara as a very morally grey character. She’s ambitious and manipulative, but she is also wanting to do what’s best for Westeros. She doesn’t believe in just giving up and letting things go, she will push until the bitter end.

Full Name: Delylah TullyGender and Sexuality: Female / DemisexualPronouns: She/herEthnicity/Species: Andal / HumanBirthplace and Birthdate: Riverrun, Riverlands. 281AL.Guilty Pleasures: Swimming in lakes and rivers, target practise with a bow and arrow.Phobias: Getting married and having a child. No joke, she’s really concerned about it. She knows how much depends on her acquiring a good husband and bearing a son, so it’s become something she dreads.What They Would Be Famous For: Being the thrice-wed Lady of Riverrun. Also her moniker of the Redfish for carrying out a particularly brutal murder.What They Would Get Arrested For: Public indecencyOC You Ship Them With: Ooh she and @moirei‘s Syrius Reyne Dalt might be cute tbh.OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Not sure on this one tbh. Maybe a Lannister oc?Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Action/adventureLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: Women only considered ‘strong females’ because they can wield a weapon - there’s so much more to women than that!Talents and/or Powers: Delylah is relatively good at using a bow and arrows, however it’s more a hobby than something she considers a skill. She is also a very good swimmer, and would want all of her children to learn to swim from a young age as she did.Why Someone Might Love Them: Delylah definitely adheres to the Tully words of family coming first. She’s incredibly close with her father, grandfather and great-uncle, and dreads anything happening to them. Despite her struggles with the idea of being a wife and mother, she is still willing to do her duty.Why Someone Might Hate Them: Delylah is quite feisty and her position as heir to the Riverlands means she hates being looked down upon for being a woman, something that can really agitate a lot of men. Often doesn’t know when to shut up.How They Change: Delylah grows up from a fiery young girl to a woman with a sense of purpose. She finds having her first baby very difficult, from the pregnancy to having a newborn child, but she perseveres because she knows how important it is, and grows to love her baby.Why You Love Them: Delylah goes through a lot in order to save her family, but she does reach her breaking point. Although she wants her own freedom, she also knows it’s not a realistic option, so she goes for the next best thing - a convenient marriage with love as part of the equation.

Full Name: Medea BaratheonGender and Sexuality: Female / HeterosexualPronouns: She/herEthnicity/Species: Andal & Valyrian / HumanBirthplace and Birthdate: Storm’s End, Stormlands. 273AL.Guilty Pleasures: Drinking wine, attending extravagant parties, giving her opinions in council situations.Phobias: Her children being taken from her if she remarries, losing her independence.What They Would Be Famous For: Being the mother of the king, Valko Swann.What They Would Get Arrested For: Something to do with intoxicationOC You Ship Them With: She and @the-winter-falcon‘s Alaric Martell, although it’s kinda canon in the sense that they are lovers, it just doesn’t stay that way.OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Anyone pro-Targaryen or who just generally hates Baratheons.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: ComedyLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: One-dimensional villains.Talents and/or Powers: Medea has power and authority - as the King’s only sister, she is seen as a handsome marriage prospect, despite the fact that she has wed and had children from a previous marriage. Her status as a widow means she also has a degree of independence, which she is reluctant to give up.Why Someone Might Love Them: Medea is quite easy-going and likes to have fun, however there is a serious side to her and she is very good with children and giving advice in general. She isn’t hateful or one to hold a grudge, and does try to understand her enemies’ way of thinking.Why Someone Might Hate Them: She can often be seen as overindulgent, and particularly in a culture that shames women for extra-marital sex, the fact that she sleeps around as an unwed woman leads to some referring to her as a whore.How They Change: As Medea’s children grow up, her relationship with them becomes different. Her eldest son is eventually the king, and she knows that as a young man, he may not always listen to her or take her advice. She doesn’t want to smother her kids, but wants them to know that they are loved. She also warms to the idea of having more children, as she and Jaime have several.Why You Love Them: It’s kind of nice to have a character who is already a mother at the start of the story, who’s a bit ‘older’ by Westeros standards (aka not a young maiden), as she has a bit of a different perspective on the world and different way of living.

#asks #shaera targaryen #tamara arryn #delylah tully #medea baratheon #falling stars #from the ashes #memento mori #taint of royalty #this took forever and a half

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senseri-oria · 6 years

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Poorly Placed Timing.

| - Music - |

Days had been long and nights even longer, the passing between sun and moon dwindled the time until a countdown that no one could escape. As much time as possible had been spent trying to reconnect, attempting to convince that the Captain should have let her go with him and yet with her own hands tied to her own work, Sen had no choice but to go with the flow. That morning, she and Eyri were to set off for Idyllshire but not everything was to happen so smoothly.

"Ashes!" Sen stood outside the entrance to the cabin on the familiar ship, by now the crew that worked was used to her coming and going as she pleased, daring to not ask a single question in fear of a Keeper's wrath. They hardly paid mind to the tiny Miqo'te knocking on the door.

"Oi Ashes! You better not be cumming, because I'm coming in!" All the warning she ever gave. She had also called him on their Pearls previously, only to assume the reply that never came was because he was still passed out drunk.

If only she knew that would have been the preferred outcome.

The door was pushed open as Sen ignored the calling of one of the crew trying to catch her attention, she had much bigger fish to fry. The cramped space had become easy to maneuver around, her attention to detail had her muscle memory already slipping around trinkets and books, even the map-laden table until she was able to find the particular couch she'd come to inhabit.

After a deep cleaning and a few finishing touches, the couch was hardly anything akin to the Captain's quarters. A fuzzy, pink throw blanket resided, a bag stashed near it contained extra clothing and supplies. The pillow always looked freshly used and on the tiny table near one of the ends, nail polish and lipgloss were scattered, along with a few accents of make-up.

Needless to say, she had half-moved into her brother's place.

"Oh-Em-Gee, you'll never believe what I've had to deal with this morning!" She gasped out and turned to flop onto the couch, wincing once she landed on something hard. Sitting up, Sen plucked out a half-chugged bottle of whiskey, ears perked at the grace of the Twelve. With little hesitation, fingers untwisted the lid to take a swig, using it more as mouthwash and swallowing than anything.

"And I don't wanna talk to Eyri about it because he's going to fucking kill me. AND! You're the only other slut I know that I trust enough to bitch about this--" Sen paused, glancing over to the bed to see if the reason Xev'tan had been ignoring her was that he was purposely doing so or because the lazy Keeper had still been asleep. She took a moment to stare at the empty bed, the haunting realization of talking to herself crept in.

"Ashes?" Settling the bottle aside, Sen gripped the armrest to hoist herself up and peer around, checking ever so blatantly in the bathroom and soon even under the bed, the desk, even a glance through a junk pile of loot in a corner. "Oi ya fucker, I'm not in the mood to play around. I'm hungover and I am having a boy problem!"

There was a muffled scraping at the door which turned Sen's attention and entire body frame to face, hopeful in perchance that he had simply been out and was returning. A hand pressed itself on her hip to strike that ever unamused pose she gave him when she was ready to pout; when the cabin entry swung open, it wasn't the Keeper standing there.

A loud bark sounded out from the mutt barrelling through the cabin, the stubbed tail wagged violently enough to shake his entire rear quarters that all but crashed into the couch, desk, anything in the canine's path to reach the Seeker.

"Moyo!" She chirped, kneeling so that when the Dog With One-Hundred Names lunged, she was able to half-catch him and hug on. "Who's my good boy?! Yuuush it's you, yes you are!" Spoiling 'Mate' was her forte, as was only adding onto the list of nicknames the beast was called. She figured in the end, as long as someone was talking to him, Moyo didn't care who called him what.

"My precious baby, yush, where's the Captain, hm?" Her nose had pressed to the wide-eyed dog's expectantly, waiting through the staring contest as if Moyo would answer only to have her entire face slobbered on in one lick. Eyes closed and her nose scrunched but she couldn't be mad. If anything, a soft giggle sounded out. "Where is--"

"He ain'ts 'ere, darlin'." The semi-familiar voice had Senseri finally sit up to look and see who else came to visit and while the massive Roe could have filled the doorway, he dared not step an inch inside. The concerned look the man carried was enough to note he almost feared to have to deliver the message.

"Where is he? Brothel again?" The jab earned a snort from herself, pleased at the insult as hands had moved to help roll the giant mutt over to give a damned good session of belly rubs.

Thavnair.

She couldn't hear his voice answer, it was the subconscious tick in the back of her mind that rang louder than his muffled explanations. Her world slowed down and cautiously, mismatched eyes strained to peer around for any sign of what she needed to hear, what she needed to see.

"No, he... Don't be fucking stupid, if he left for there, he would have told me goodbye. He's not that much of an asshole." Attempting to reason her denial, the Seeker rose to stand, still ignoring the muffled plight of the Roegadyn in favour of her own sudden need to be proven right.

She must have missed it.

Moyo jumped up onto the bed to lay as he watched the fury of pink rip and tear through the cabin. What had started as an innocent search turned more frantic and aggravated. Cushions were turned over, her bag and contents dumped and sifted through to try to find something.

Anything.

"Right Moyo? He wouldn't have, he always says goodbye, it's because he's coming back." Turning to the mapped desk, fingers fluttered over every note, every paper, under every empty and full bottle that remained. The more that time passed and few places were left to look, the harder she found it to breathe. Who was she trying to convince? The man still at the door? The dog? Herself?

In the end, there was nothing left for her in his writing, nothing to indicate that he had an inkling of decency to tell her. The realization struck her hard, slamming into her chest and robbing her of the very breath she was trying to find. The cry of frustration was nothing compared to the pounding in her head, the doubt ignited the trigger of fear and understanding as to why she hated trusting people.

"Ashes," she spat out, flicking her fingers to a familiar Pearl on her hairclip that connected her directly to the Captain in question. "By the Goddess Xev, where are you?"

There would be no answer.

"Xev?"

Nothing.

"BY THE TWELVE XEV'TAN TATSAE YOU BETTER ANSWER ME!"

Silence.

Before anyone could know what happened, Sen's balled up fist shot outwards and slammed into a wall, embedding it up to just past her wrist until she felt stuck there, driving away her mental breakdown to focus on the ache of broken skin. Droplets of blood left in the wake of freeing her hand from the crater, a proof of what had done the damage. Fingers stayed curled, bloodied knuckles strained into a white colour from trembling muscle.

"Honestly, I'm still trying to wrap my head around why Ashes chose to help us."

"Save his own neck? Maybe he just likes you is all. Perhaps he wanted you to not get killed because he knew you couldn't kill him. Screams protecting."

"I dunno... Twenty years ago I know he would have done anything to save the three of us, but now? Now I don't even know what to think... Or do, you know? I knew him and now I don't but I still see Ashes in him. I know it's him, just... I'm gonna watch this explode, I just know it."

The recollection of a conversation with Eyri pelted the back of her mind, forcing her hands to reach up and cover her face. Senseri hardly noticed her legs giving out from under her or that her back had pressed to the wall she was sinking down until the ground was where she sat. The piercing pressure to her heart was a cold reminder of the truth she hadn't wanted to face.

Bloodied palms cupped over her mouth soon after, muffling any sort of pained noise from the heated swell and sting of tears overflowing down and onto her cheeks. Even if she could keep herself from making any audible distress, it didn't stop her from clinging to the mutt who had jumped from the bed to come to investigate. He sat there patiently with feeble attempts to wag what little of a tail he had as patches of dark fur became tainted with tears and mascara.

The undamaged hand raised upward after a bit of coaxing, fingers pressed to one of the pearls again, fumbling to even get it to connect. It took everything she had to steel her breath and voice.

"Pheli," she called the first person she could think of, the only image clear enough in her clouded thought and vision to know who may have had better connections. Favours were to be repaid. "... We need to talk."

@xevtan (Mention) @smolcatte (Mention) @eyriosto (Mention)

#thorns of thavnair #ashes to ashes #partners in crime #A family in trust #been a while I'm rusty

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5lbsofsmarties · 6 years

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A Lion Still Has Claws - 5

Word Count: 3329 Game of Thrones AU - Part 5 of ?

From a young age it was quite obvious that large and formal gatherings were not at all something that you enjoyed. More often than not your mother, her handmaidens, and your Septa had to all but drag out out of the Holdfast and down to the Great Hall where you had to be hurriedly put back together in a presentable manner. You distinctly remembered being roughly nine or ten years old when you attempted to run out of the Holdfast to avoid another mind numbing meeting with some Lord and his family that your father had invited to King’s Landing in order to discuss something or other that you couldn’t be bothered to listen to.

You had managed to make it out to the stables when you’d run into someone. You would have fallen back into a haystack had they not caught you and pulled you upright. There in front of you were a pair of pale green eyes topped by a head of bright red hair, the owner of which was a boy not much older than yourself. You had learned that he was the son of the Lord of the Eyrie, the man your father had called an audience with, and he was attempting to find a way out of the meeting as well.

The pair of you were found two hours later by your brothers sitting side by side in the loft of the stable reading and talking.

Welcoming Chad to King’s Landing was always a task that you enjoyed, even as the two of you had gotten older and it became more difficult to sneak away together. At some point over the years your mother had playfully mentioned writing to Chad’s mother and father about arranging a match between the two of you but, thankfully, nothing had ever come of that jest. Through growing up, Chad had become almost like another brother to you; a brother whom you could tell anything to without fear of your words becoming the butt end of some jape or mocked. So, when he had arrived first to the meal you were more than excited to see him.

“Presenting Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East, Lord Chad James,” came the booming voice of the court Hearld.

From the massive double doors Lord Chad James came walking into the hall with all of the pride and dignity one would expect of him. He had on a pair of dark grey breeches with a sharp taper at the ankle as well as a deep blue jacket with puffy, wide cut sleeves that narrowed to the wrist. Round, brass buttons lined the forearm of each sleeve, and the inner lining and lapels of the jacket were white, while the strings that tie up the front matched the outer layer. He looked extremely handsome as he approached the king and queen to bow for him and kiss her hand. Chad made it down the line of both Gavin and Ryan, greeting them with firm handshakes and slight bows of the head but when he made it to you all of the pageantry dropped.

“My lady, Y/N,” he laughed as he swiftly placed a kiss to your hand. He dropped your hand almost as soon as he took hold of it and stepped forward to wrap his arms around you in an embrace. “You look beautiful,” he complimented. You laughed and rolled your eyes as you returned the embrace. As you pulled away, you could see the look of agitation written all over your mother’s face. Surely, she was not happy with such a brazen act of perceived intimacy between you and a man that you were not betrothed to - but that fact simply made you smile just that much more at Chad as he pressed a quick kiss against your cheek.

When Chad took a step back was when you noticed there was another man standing just to his left who was looking as if he definitely did not want to be there; a feeling with which you could sympathize. He had nearly wild looking yellow hair and had on a grey canvas jerkin that looked to be almost metallic in coloring, with fastening that went up the chest to tie just below the high neck. His black pants tapered down to his ankle, ending at a pair of sturdy looking front lacing boots. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar but you couldn’t quite put your finger on why.

“My lady, this is Sam Mitchell. He’s been my squire for some years but a good friend for longer. I do not know if you’ve ever officially met,” Chad introduced, stepping slightly to the side to present Sam.

You watched as he took your hand and lifted it to his lips for a less than enthusiastic kiss. “My lady, it is a pleasure to meet you,” he said in a tone that did not convey the meaning behind his words. You bit at the inside of your lip and attempted to hold back a grin at that. It was refreshing to see someone else so bored of all the fanfare that came along with court. When he lowered your hand and looked up at you from underneath the flare of his eyelashes it suddenly dawned on you that, yes, you had met him before.

Years ago, when you father had taken a trip up to the Eyrie to visit with the Chad’s father when he was the Lord. You remembered finally arriving at the Gates of the Moon, and stepping out of the wheelhouse that you’d been stuck inside with your mother for the entire trip, as well as Gavin after he tried to race Ryan through the mountains and your mother became worried about the Hill Tribes, so you were grateful to be out in an open area. However, almost as soon as your feet touched the ground you felt your short leather boot being pulled from your foot into the mud.

You’d stumbled and reached out for the first person you could in an attempt to steady yourself. Once you had wretched your foot free, you looked up to find yourself nearly face to face with a boy of your age and a pair of bright blue eyes blinking back at you. You remembered feeling your cheeks flush and your heart skip a beat before one of your guards had gotten off of his horse to assist you to the castle itself - your handmaiden scurrying behind with a new pair of shoes.

Though, now as you looked at the man in front of you, you were unsure if he would ever even recall such a small meeting from years past. “Welcome to our hall, Ser. Thank you for joining us,” you replied, smiling and nodding your head in his direction, “Please, both of you, be seated. We will hopefully begin our meal soon.” Both Chad and Sam gave you another smile before the pair of the turned and headed off to the long table and took seats near the end across from one another.

Very quickly after that more people began filing into the hall. Lord Jack and his wife Lady Caiti from Bear Island came in, followed by the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. As Lord Geoff walked across the hall he had a look of almost disdain etched onto his face but once he came to face to face with your father his demeanor changed completely. “Burns,” he greeted with a playful smirk tugging at his lips, “Looks like you’ve spent too much time sitting on that throne and not enough walking around your Kingdom.”

At his words, your brothers and yourself exchanged glances. No visitor ever spoke to your father like that and part of you expected him to be angry. However, your father merely laughed and pulled the Lord Commander in for an embrace, clapping him on the back as they pulled apart. “Good to see the wall hasn’t frozen over your sense of humor as well as your heart, Geoff,” your father quipped, making the Commander laugh as well.

Lord Geoff moved down to kiss your mother on her cheek, telling her it had been too long since they’ve all seen one another. Before you knew it he was in front of your brothers and yourself. Now that he was closer you could get a better look at him. His blacks looked nearly new and along with his dark hair and beard, his icy blue eyes stood out. “The Burns Brood,” he chuckled to himself, shaking his head, “My, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of you. You’re all grown now; last I saw our dear Princess was just beginning to talk. Look at you now!”

You looked over at your brothers who looked just as confused as you felt. Ryan, however, was the first one to recover and find his manners. “It is a pleasure to have you here with us tonight, Lord Commander. Please, take a seat at our table,” he said, motioning over towards the table where the other guests were already seated.

As more people filed into the room, you were sure that you were ready to have a seat yourself. You were growing tired of standing and greeting people with a polite smile that you had to keep plastered to your face. Although, when you heard the announcement of Lord Michael and his Lady wife, Lindsay, you were more than happy to stay in your spot. When they made it down to you after greeting your parents and brothers, you very nearly plucked the babe from Lindsay’s arms to hold her close.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again as well,” Michael laughed, shaking his head.

You glanced over at the pair of them and smiled, “She’s precious, but, my apologies. How are the both of you? Are you enjoying Riverrun, Lord Michael? It must be very different than the Dreadfort.”

“It’s a fair bit warmer in the Riverlands than the North,” Michael said with a slight shrug of his shoulder, “But I am enjoying my time there.”

“I’m very glad to hear that,” you said, smiling before looking back at the baby in your arms who was running a hand over the fur along your neckline, “Do I have to give her back?”

Lindsay laughed and stepped forward, “Unfortunately. You’ve got more princess-ing to do.”

Very reluctantly, you handed baby back over to her mother after pressing a fleeting kiss to the side of her head. Lindsay let out a small laugh as she stepped forward to embrace you and press a quick kiss against your cheek. “We will make sure to call for you before we leave for Riverrun in the morning,” she promised before walking off towards the table with Michael in tow. You shifted a little uncomfortably and looked to your right at your brothers.

“How much longer do we need to stand here? My feet are beginning to ache,” you mumbled softly as you leaned closer to Gavin’s side.

Gavin chuckled and shook his head, “Our jousting champion who took a lance to the face is hurting from standing at court.”

“How the mighty have fallen,” Ryan teased as well, folding his hands in front of him, “Not much longer, Y/N. I believe we’re only waiting for one more guest.”

You narrowed your eyes at both of your brothers and turned your head to look elsewhere around the cavernous Throne Room. Both of your parents seemed to be more than content to be there, chatting quietly amongst themselves. At the table, your guests had been offered drink and seemed to be having a wonderful time talking and laughing with one another whilst partaking in the ale, wine, and other beverages. At the entrance of the hall, you noticed the Court Hearld step inside of the room once more and you could only assume that it meant that your final guest had arrived.

“Presenting the Prince of Dorne, his highness, Alfredo Diaz,” the guard’s voice boomed throughout the room.

Everyone, including those seated, stared expectantly at the double doors at the end of the hall. You were more than a little shocked that your father had thought to invite the Prince of Dorne, seeing as Dorne and the rest of the realm were not always on the best of terms. A man stepped into view and you were slightly taken aback at the sight of him. You had never been to Dorne, or even met anyone from there, and you were immediately intrigued by his garb.

He walked down the length of the room in a cloth-of-gold jacket that full length sleeve and fell below his hips featuring beautiful orange and red embroidered designs throughout the garment. The jacket seemed to be much lighter weight than the piece found in Westeros as it flowed slightly behind him as he moved. His breeches were also seemingly made of a lighter material as the sand colored fabric rippled around his legs with each step. His jacket was not buttoned all the way up as most men with the Kingdom would wear it, but it finished almost halfway up his chest, revealing a triangle of tanned skin.

Once he had made it to your parents there seemed to be a tense sort of exchange between them, but Prince Alfredo smiled brightly and patted your father on the arm before kissing your mother’s hand. He was charismatic to say the least. He greeted both of your brothers warmly, shaking their hands and clasping them at the elbow as he did so; his smile never faltered. When he made it to you, you almost couldn’t form a coherent thought inside of your head. Closer up, you could see just how handsome this Prince was with his dark hair and dark eyes. You realized as he took your hand in his to kiss the back of it that you hadn’t said anything, making your cheeks flare hot.

“It’s a pleasure to have you here with us, Prince Alfredo. I hope that you are enjoying your visit to King’s Landing,” you finally managed to say, smiling back at him.

Alfredo lowered your hand and met your eyes with his own wide grin, “It’s lovely to be here, my lady. It is an honor to have been invited here to sup with your family and esteemed guests.”

“We are most excited to have you here,” you said, your hands absently fiddling with the fur trim of your sleeves, “Please, have a seat and enjoy yourself.”

With one last smile and nod, Prince Alfredo turned on his heel and made his way over to the table with the other guests. Once everyone was seated and comfortable, your father announced that the meal could begin. On any other circumstance, your family would most certainly be seated at a seperate table on a raised platform away from your guest, as was tradition. However, due to the nature of the meal and why mostly everyone had been brought here, you were told to find a seat amongst your guests.

Quickly, you found your way over to where Chad was sitting and he happily slid to the side enough to make room for you, and your gown. You sat yourself down next to Chad and smiled at him, noticing that Sam was across from him you smiled at him as well. Next to Sam was Prince Alfredo who was looking to his other side and talking with Lord Michael, while on your other side was Lady Lindsay and the little babe.

“You looked about ready to walk off of The Wall the longer you stood up there,” Chad said, pouring wine into the cup in front of you.

You laughed and graciously took the drink from him, “I have no idea what you mean, Chad, I am a dutiful Princess who enjoys all of her responsibilities.”

Chad let out a loud laugh and had to duck his head slightly when other people from down the table looked your way. You grinned slightly to yourself and raised your wine to your lips to take a long sip. “Do those responsibilities include being shown off to any eligible man in the Seven Kingdoms?” Sam asked from across the table. Chad’s head quickly shot up and he fixed his squire with a hard glare.

“Sam! That isn’t something you say to the Princess of the Realm,” he scolded.

However, you laughed and lowered your cup to the table. “It’s alright, Chad. He’s not wrong,” you said, looking at Sam, “They do now, yes. Unfortunately, I am of the age where it would be beneficial to my parents, and the Kingdoms, if I were to wed.”

“You could just marry our Lord here and get it over with. You’re already so fond of one another,” he suggested, grinning into his ale.

Both you and Chad turned to look at one another, your noses scrunched slightly. “That would be like marrying Gavin or Ryan,” you said, grabbing your wine once more, “No offense meant, Chad.”

Chad shook his head, “I take none. You’ve become something of a little sister to me over the years, marrying you would be… off putting to say the least.”

“You both act as if marrying one’s sibling isn’t something the Royal family has done in the past. Not your Royal family, of course, my Lady,” Sam said, chuckling lowly to himself.

At that point, Prince Alfredo seemed to have finished his conversation with Lord Michael and looked over at the three of you with an amused expression on his face. “I feel as though I’ve overheard some part of a conversation that I was not meant to hear,” he said with a slight laugh. You only rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head from side to side before taking a small sip of wine and returning your cup to the table. “No, we were merely discussing how Lord Chad is almost like a third brother to me, so marrying him while not a true sin in the eyes of the Seven would feel as much to the both of us,” you explained.

“Well, have you met any suitable men that you could see yourself wedding?” Alfredo asked, sipping from his own cup.

You sighed softly and looked down at the table for a moment before you drug your eyes back up the Prince. “I’ve never much thought of actually getting married until recently, you see. I’ve always been much more interested in learning new things and exploring - having adventures. However, as it’s been explained to me, those are not things a Princess should be doing. So, I’ve met some men who… are nice and I’m sure would make fine husbands, I’m not entirely certain that they would make fine husbands for me,” you offered with a weak sort of shrug.

Chad reached out with a hand to give your back a gentle pat while both Sam and Prince Alfredo nod their head in what seemed to be understanding. Before much else could be said, servers began to file into the room with the first course of the evening. You sighed thankfully for the interruption, not wanting to continue with the topic at hand. Chad was the one to put food on your plate and you could only laugh softly as you playfully swatted his hands away.

“I am a Princess, not a invalid, Chad James. I am more than able to serve and feed myself.”

You could have sworn that you heard a snort of a laugh come from across the table and when you glanced up, you spotted Sam grinning down at his own plate of food. He had to have sensed that you were looking, as he looked up not long after. His eyes met your own and the two of you shared a slight smirk before returning to your food.

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whiteladyofrohann · 7 years

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I was wondering, do you have any headcanons for Sansa and Ned's relationship?

I could talk about Ned and Sansa’s relationship for hoursand I have so many headcanons. Their relationship is one of the most lookedover in the whole series, which is odd for me, since the Starks have alwaysbeen close, but many of Sansa’s relationships are brushed off. Many think Nedloved Arya more than Sansa, and that’s so untrue. He loved them both equally,and he loved them both so much, he was just able to understand and connect withArya more, but that doesn’t mean he thinks any less of Sansa. Anyway, here aresome of my Ned and Sansa headcanons:

Sansa was precious to Ned from the moment shewas born. This tiny, beautiful baby who looked like her mother, and he feltlike he was breaking her by just holding her. Sansa was the first baby that Nedsaw that young, he didn’t meet Robb until he was a few months old, and Jon wasn’tjust born when he reached Lyanna (at least he didn’t look it in S6), so Nednever held a baby that small until he first held Sansa and from the moment heheld her, his heart melted. She is his first daughter, the first child whosebirth he was there for (because I also headcanon that Ned was present for allthe Starks born in Winterfell) and she was so perfect.

Because Ned missed so much of Robb’s early life,he stayed with Cat and Sansa everywhere when he didn’t have work to do becausehe didn’t want to miss anything important in her early life like he had herbrother.

Sansa didn’t cry much as a baby, but when shedid, it was in Ned’s arms she settled quickest. She settled quickly for Catelyntoo since she wasn’t a fussy baby, but no arms felt safer than her father’s soshe stopped fussing quickly when he picked her up.

Sansa’s first word was ‘Papa’. If Ned were a man more prone to outwardemotion, it would make him tear up because he has his doubts as a lord, husbandand a father, but hearing his little girl calling him ‘papa’ for her first wordbegins to get rid of them fears and it’s a moment he thinks of when he turns toget one last look at her before he is beheaded.

When she was young, she was a daddy’s girl. Beforeshe became too interested in being a lady, Sansa would’ve craved Ned’sattention. Asking him to play with her, drawing him things, picking him flowers,asking him to help her build things in the snow while the boys played withsnowballs. But most of all she loved that he would take her to the Godswood. Sansaliked the pretty colours of the weirwood leaves and loved the fact it she wasable to skip along the paths and pick flowers. She loved how quiet it was andshe loved the silent praying as she sat next to Ned. Her visits to the Godswoodwith Ned were among her favourite things as a child.

Ned was Sansa’s first and biggest hero. We knowSansa loved the stories of knights, of Aemon the Dragonknight and others. But noneof them compare to her father. He always has and always will be her number oneprotector and number one hero. Ned doesn’t talk about the rebellions he foughtin, but others would have. And for Sansa, her father fighting valiantly to findhis sister and avenge his father and brother, or fighting to save the mainlandfrom the terrible Iron Born, means that he is a true knight, and a hero.

Because of the point above, many of Sansa’sexpectations come from Ned. Ned isn’t perfect, but he is a very good man. A loving,caring man, almost found nowhere in Westeros. She thinks that all men arenoble, good, loving and strong like her father, and so that’s one of thereasons she believes in the stories of knights. And because she sees her fatherhave such a strong, loving relationship with her mother, she assumes that hermarriage will be like that. That her husband will be like her father.

Because Sansa is so precious to Ned, he wants tokeep her sheltered. Of course, Arya is precious to him too, but Arya is wilder,knows the truth and harshness of the world more. Sansa is into her fairytalesand stories and doesn’t know how bad the world truly is, and I feel that Nedwanted to protect her from the evil in the world, which is why she grows upquite naïve and believes the best in people, as her father does. She sharesmany characteristics with him because he has sheltered her from the real world,and so she grows up with a similar perspective to life as he does. Because Sansabelieves in the stories of knights and honour, and Ned believes in honour.

On the morning of her nameday, Ned would alwaysbe the first person Sansa sees. Every year he would wake her up with a tray oflemon cakes just for her to eat. He’d give her a kiss on the forehead, and thensit with her as she ate the lemon cakes before escorting her to the great hallwhere everything was set up for her special day. And in my head, this happenedevery year.

In the dungeon, after Varys all but threatenedSansa, she was all that was on Ned’s mind for hours. His mind was made up straightaway. Robert was his best friend and he didn’t want to betray him, but Sansawas his baby girl. The first newborn he held. He knew there was only one choice.And when Joffrey calls for his head, he forces himself to get one last look athis baby girl.

Sansa blames herself for Ned’s death. Although shedoesn’t know the whole story, she knows that her father is not and never wouldbe a traitor. As she gets older and smarter, Sansa realises exactly why Nedconfessed to a crime he didn’t commit. She knows that Cersei was controllingher and keeping her close and she manages to realise that the only reason Nedconfessed, and was therefore killed, was because they were threatening her. So sheblames herself for his death.

After Sansa finds the doll Ned gave her duringthe Battle of Blackwater, she always keeps it on her bedside table so she cansee it when she sleeps so it gives her comfort. Ned would always comfort herwhen she had nightmares, so the doll is her comfort when she dreams about hisbeheading, or Joffrey beating her. When Sansa misses her family, or is upsetabout something, she takes the doll from the night stand and sleeps with itcuddled against her chest as extra comfort, because it’s the one thing she hasin King’s Landing that reminds her of home, and it reminds her of the first manshe ever loved.

I like the idea of Alayne stumbling across achamber in the Eyrie, and entering it to discover it once belonged to EddardStark. She enters and goes through the draws, untouched since her father leftthe room many years ago. She finds letters from Brandon, Lyanna, Benjen andRickard, and a wooden sculpted wolf on the side, as well as other smallpossessions of his. She comes back to the room time and time again because whenshe is in the room, Alayne Stone becomes Sansa Stark again.

#Sansa Stark #Ned Stark #Ned & Sansa #Game of Thrones #anon #ask #Headcanon

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