#i keep forgetting her name because i’m just calling her arya in my head

[saphira-approves]

So I’m watching the Star Trek: Picard show and uh

…

PLEASE tell me she’s gotten calls from the Eragon tv show casting director, look at her and tell me that isn’t just our dearly beloved Arya Svit-Kona in space—

#saph speaks #arya (inheritance cycle) #i keep forgetting her name because i’m just calling her arya in my head #i also desperately want a star trek/ic crossover where it turns out elves are yet another branch on the vulcan-romulan family tree #anyway. elnor is my sonboy. #also YES i do know who’s in season 4 and he may or may not be like. 30% of the reason im watching it #im normal about star trek im normal about star trek (lie)

[cellsshapedlikestars]

So Jon and Sansa both see a crime being commited and become prime witnesses to arrest this big crime mastermind (Petyr? Or maybe Tywin?) and they have to go to witness protection... Only witness protection makes them pretend to be a married couple when they actually don't know each other. Does that sparkle something in that brilliant brain of yours as a prompt?

Look I'm in a Mood™ today and wrote this in a weird fugue state so don't @ meeeeee. I also like barely edited this so who knows if it makes sense, and grammar? I barely know her.

Also, I don’t really know how to do trigger warning tags, so this is my warning that there are vague mentions of blood/gore/violence.

.

.

Sometimes when she wakes up, she forgets.

But then she looks around the room that isn't her room and she has to tell herself that it is. This is her room. This is her home. That is her husband downstairs making breakfast.

(And sometimes she wakes up unable to breathe, the dreams are so real; the blood and brains and pieces of skull spraying the wall in front of her, the sounds of men pleading for their lives. The strong arm wrapped around her, one hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming, the only thing that kept her still and quiet and hidden under the desk, the only reason she's alive. He's downstairs making breakfast.)

….

If there was ever a place to get lost, she thinks, it's here.

She stares out the window of her house, the same as every other house on the street. Row after row of identical houses. Neighborhoods of them, the suburbs stretching on forever. They've been here for two months and she doesn't even know her neighbor's names. The one across the street is Edmond, she thinks. Maybe. Edmure? No, if it were Edmure, she would remember, because of-

(But Alayne Stone doesn't have an Uncle Edmure.)

“I'm headed out.”

She turns to look at her husband.

“Have a good day,” she calls, just like she does every day. She watches him walk out to their nondescript grey sedan, just like he does every day. He backs it out of the driveway, then drives west, towards the main road.

…

They don't talk about before.

He is Aemon Stone. They met in college, in a geography course that they both almost failed, and they fell in love. They just got married and moved here - not that any of their neighbors have asked, so she's only had to tell that story to her new coworkers at the craft store.

They're trying to start a family.

(Jon, she thinks his name is, she remembers the agents calling him that, before they were handed folders with their new lives inside. But Jon is not her husband. Aemon is.)

…

Sometimes she likes to think she's a hero, giving up her whole world just to take down the bad guy. She's a hero, a martyr, the protagonist of her own daydreams. Her actions will save the lives of countless others.

(The reality is that she had no choice. They gave her one, technically, she doesn't have to testify against Petyr Baelish, but they all knew there was no choice. If she stayed, he would've found her. He would have killed her and anyone she could have possibly told about what she saw. She knows Aemon had no choice, either, and sometimes she wonders what he gave up. But they don't talk about before.)

…

She tries not to let her mind wander too much, but it's hard not to. Her life is routine. Mundane. She makes friends with her coworkers but she can't – she won't– let them get too close.

The problem with all her free, mundane time is that it gives her space to think – gives her time to regret.

She remembers that weekend, remembers thinking what harm could it do? Remembers thinking the bachelorette party sounded so fun. Remembers taking cash out to play the slot machines, ordering drink after drink until she felt numb.

It all goes a bit fuzzy after that. No matter how hard she tries, she can never remember how she got into the back halls of the casino, to the places where guests aren't allowed. She remembers a strange man kissing her, large, with scarring across his face, who told her that a pretty bird like her shouldn't be back here and demanded a kiss as payment. She remembers running, running, running.

If only she hadn't run.

If she hadn't run, she wouldn't have found herself in that room. She wouldn't have heard the door opening, turned around to see him, watched his face twist in horror when he saw her. He wouldn't have had to tell her get down, hide.

She remembers not being able to move, frozen to the spot at the sight of the gun at his hip. She remembers the way he'd pulled her down under the desk, one arm around her waist to keep her still, one hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, just in time, just before the door opened again.

(And she remembers the men who came in right after, the gruff where the fuck did Rivers get to?)

…

She's seen the tattoo.

(She doesn't think she was supposed to. Aemon Stone shouldn't have a tattoo.)

They try not to get in each other's way – he works days, she works closings. She sleeps in the master bed, he sleeps in a guest room down the hall. He wakes up early and makes breakfast and leaves her a plate. She eats while he goes for a run. But every once in a while...

That day he'd been coming back from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. She's never upstairs when he takes a shower, but she had gotten the urge to read, for the first time in months, and had gone up to grab one of the books that came with the house when she ran into him in the hall.

And there, on his chest, right above his heart, the mockingbird tattoo.

(Aemon Stone is her husband. He is not one of them.)

(But Jon Snow was.)

…

She probably should be scared, but she can never find it in her to be. Their handlers wouldn't have put them in the same house if they thought he'd hurt her.

(He's the reason she's alive. His arm around her waist, his hand over her mouth. Get down. Hide.)

…

Sometimes she wants to ask – why?

Why did he hide her?

Why is he here?

He was one of them, there's a tattoo on his chest that proves it.

Why did he save her? Give up everything for her to live?

…

She slips, once.

She's at work, in the break room, heating up a mug of soup in their tiny, low watt microwave. The break room TV is on, the news is playing, and then he's there.

Petyr Baelish, donating a giant check to an orphanage. Everyone's clapping and cheering him on and all she can hear are the screams of two men, pleading for their lives. Begging Petyr Baelish to stop. (They had wives and children and their screams echo in her head and-)

“Alayne?” her coworker, Myranda, shakes her arm. “I think your food's done?”

She's shaking so hard that the soup sloshes over the side of her mug and she apologizes as she cleans it up and Myranda asks if she's sick or something. She has to go home early because she vomits into the break room trash can.

At home, Aemon is watching football on TV and he's surprised when she comes home early. All he says is, “everything ok?” and she knows what he's asking.

“Everything's ok,” she tells him and he nods and she goes upstairs.

They don't talk about the past, but they don't talk about the present, either.

(And they definitely don't talk about the future.)

…

There's one time she doesn't wake up confused or breathless.

She wakes up screaming.

In her dream, he finds her. In her dream, Petyr Baelish walks around the desk and bends down and reaches under and pulls her out. In her dream, he tortures her like he did those men. In her dream, he puts a gun to her head, just like he did-

She wakes up screaming.

The door to her room slams open and she takes a gasping breath and looks up at her husband, standing in the doorway with a baseball bat in his hand. His hair is wild and his eyes are wide as they search her room and she tries to tell him it's all in her head but she can't make her voice work. When she tries, the words just come out as a small sob and she watches his tensed shoulders relax and he sets down the baseball bat.

She curls into herself and cries into her bent knees – for her dreams and her fears and the knowledge that this might never end. It's a choking, clawing abyss in her chest that's been growing as the days and weeks and months slide by – that she will never see her family again. She'll never eat mom's cooking or hear her dad yell at the TV when his team loses or see Robb's infectious smile or argue with Arya or talk about philosophy with Bran or watch one of Rickon's basketball games. She'll never get to play with Lady again.

She has kept them locked away inside her, tried to forget about them because Alayne Stone doesn't have a family.

The bed dips and she lets out another gasping sob as she feels an arm settle around her shoulders. “Alayne,” he says, and then again. Again and again, until - “Sansa.”

“I'm not Sansa,” she whispers when she finally looks up.

“Sometimes you need to be,” he says, his voice is steady and he brings one hand up to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. “It's hard, not everyone can just change who they are. Especially not like this.”

“You say that like you're some expert,” she sniffs, wiping at her cheeks now that her tears have slowed. She feels like a mess – her eyes feel hot and puffy, her nose feels raw, her throat is sore, but she also feels more human than she has in months.

He hesitates, seems to think hard about something before - “Aemon Stone isn't the first person I've had to become.” She jerks back a bit, but she doesn't pull away.

(He saved her life.)

“Who else?”

“Before this, I was Aegon Rivers.”

“I thought your name was Jon Snow? That's what they called you.”

“Jon Snow,” he says, voice low and soothing and she feels herself relax, settles into the warmth of his arms a bit more, “is a federal agent who went undercover with the Mockingbirds two years ago.”

She looks at him, then – really looks at him. At his grey eyes and his long face and his black hair wild from sleep, at the scar that runs through his eyebrow and the dark stubble that he meticulously shaves off every morning.

“Jon Snow fits you better,” she tells him.

“And Sansa Stark fits you.”

“I'm not Sansa Stark anymore,” she reminds him again, feeling her voice waver, though she thought she was past it. “This was just a bad dream, I promise I'll do better.”

“Like I said, sometimes it's hard,” he tells her. “And sometimes it's easy to forget who you are.”

“Is it for you?” she asks. He doesn't answer, but she thinks he doesn't need to, she can see it in him and she wonders how much of Jon Snow he remembers. Two years is a long time to be someone else. “I don't...” her voice breaks and she has to drop into a whisper. “I don't want to forget them. I know I have to-”

“What if,” he cuts in when her words fail her completely, “what if we're Jon Snow and Sansa Stark here?”

“They told us we-”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I don't mean... not in the house. Not during the day. But how about, once a week, at night, when it's just us, when the rest of the world is sleeping – I'll come in here and just for an hour, we can remember.”

The words make her ache and she nods and looks over at her clock. One hour – one hour to remember who she is and where she comes from. One hour to talk about anything and everything – about the past and the present and the future. It's not a lot and it's a risk and against the rules, but-

“Yes. Please.”

He nods and looks a bit grim and she wonders, once again – why? She doesn't think he wants to talk about Jon Snow. He's doing it for her – he's saving her life again and she still doesn't know why. Maybe she'll find out, some day.

“Ok,” he breathes, like he's jumping off the deep end, “Sansa Stark – what's your favorite color?”

#jonsa #prompt fic #also once again i cannot keep these under 2k words #mentions of violence and blood

[where-dreamers-go]

Heyo! May I have Eragon's reaction to reader saying "I've loved you from the very start! I love you, but you don't love me! So why am I even confessing?" because I love drama and I do need a lot of fluff rn.

“The Many Questions And A Confession” Eragon x Modern!Reader

(A/N: How about a continuation to the one Modern!Reader slipping and telling Eragon how they know about him telling Arya about his true name?? I shall give the drama this day. It shall be a journey towards the fluff. Looks like this turned into an insert reader type deal. Needs a title now? Oops?

Drama time! Because Reader is really frustrated with Eragon in this one. Woo! How’s Eragon handle it? Spoiler: He doesn’t stop talking.

Continuation of this one: https://where-dreamers-go.tumblr.com/post/647030131496534016/if-modernreader-has-read-the-books-and-knows

Warnings: Angst! Fluff. Mild language.

Word Count: 1,703 words)

Hiding in your room’s bathroom, you remained silent. It was not so much that Eragon could not find you, it was that you did not want to be seen at least. So what if you had locked doors and were sitting in a dry tub? The worst that could happen would be if he decided to invade your mind.

“(Y/N)?” Eragon’s voice echoed throughout the chamber as the door to your room opened.

Of course he opened it. At least I didn’t barricade it, you thought. Can’t have thirty seconds to myself.

“Are you going to talk to me?” He asked quietly from the other side of the bathroom door. Apparently locating you was not an issue.

You narrowed your eyes at the door as you sunk further into the empty tub.

A barely audible sigh reached your ears.

“I’m not angry with you for knowing,” he said. “I just don’t understand why you’re running off.”

You glanced up to the ceiling. Did you forget your last guess?

“Then…you do have feelings for me?” Eragon asked. “Or you think I’m foolish for having feelings for Arya.” His voice softened, more speaking to himself than asking you another question.

You sighed and muttered, “Not so much that your feelings were foolish….just some of your actions.”

“You still haven’t answered my questions.”

“Because…wait for it….I don’t have to.”

“(Y/N),” Eragon’s tone lowered. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks and it could not be for you knowing what I’ve done. If that were true…then you would have avoided me much sooner.”

“Brave of you to assume that I wasn’t avoiding you then.”

“We spoke more often then.”

“You asked me at least twenty questions a day. It’s hard to avoid that kind of persistence.” Kind of like now.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I had just met you! I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I would never do that.”

“So please stop avoiding me. I promise to be less foolish if that will help.”

“It won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Stop asking so many darn questions.”

“No. Just tell me.”

“No.”

“Why—?”

“I’ve loved you from the very start! I love you, but you don’t love me! So why am I even confessing?” You threw your hands out in a wide gesture. “Why do I bother? What does it even matter? …why am I even still talking?” You huffed. “Are we finished now?”

Silence.

You heard nothing else. Nothing in the bathroom you were hiding in nor anything out in the bedroom.

He has to be still out there. You thought. But I swear to all that is good, if he so much as tries to enter my mind, I will loose it. I’ll probably scream, cry, or…whatever. You crossed your arms and tried to ignore the uncomfortable position you were in. Physically, emotionally, and mentally.

The lock on the door clicked and the door opened. Walking in with an unreadable expression, Eragon made his way to you.

“No.” You said shortly, but he made no move of stopping. “What are you—?”

Eragon stepped into the dry tub.

“What are you doing?” You sat up straight as he sat down in front of you.

Settling in, Eragon folded his hands in his lap.

You shook your head at him.

What in the world? If someone thought he couldn’t get stranger…he did.

“What the blazes are you doing?” You asked, too bewildered to kick him as the opportunity was brought up in your mind.

“I’m sitting.”

You rolled your eyes so far that you were staring at the ceiling. If there was one place you did not want to look, it was straight ahead.

Wanting to hit someone upside the head and still wanting to kiss their face can not be good right now, you thought.

“Why are you even in here?” You asked through clenched teeth.

“You have been avoiding me and I haven’t seen you,” Eragon said simply before his voice softened. “I’ve missed you.”

Keeping your gaze up or up to the side, you avoided eye contact.

“Can we skip to the part where you say ‘I’m sorry, but you’re right, I don’t feel the same way about you’?” You asked. “Not going to lie…right now…you’re kind of making this worse.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was a murmur that tore through your heart.

“Alright.” Finally tearing your sights away from the ceiling, you hoisted yourself up and out of the tub.

“Where—I wasn’t finished.”

“Save your pity. I want to be alone.” You walked out of the bathroom and headed straight for your bed. There was an extremely low probability that he would follow you there too. Some lines weren’t crossed.

“I know you want to be alone.” Eragon was trailing after you.

I’m going to die from being not surprised, you thought of a quote.

“Please let me speak.”

“You’ve been speaking this whole time.” You yanked off your shoes. “What possibly could you have to say now?”

“I never said that I still loved Arya.”

You paused for a moment before saying, “Well…you don’t really need to. I’d be really surprised if you didn’t.” Tossing a pillow towards the middle of the bed, you kept your back to him.

“I don’t love her.”

Face scrunched up in confusion, you took a glance over your shoulder.

“Bull crap.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m calling you out for lying.” You explained and crossed your arms under your chest.

“I’m not lying.” A smile slowly spread across the Rider’s face.

You rose your eyebrows, challenging him.

“Sure. And what changed your strong feelings for Arya? Cold soup?”

“You.”

“What?” The word hardly reached your own ears.

Eragon walked up to you, albeit cautiously, with a full smile on his lips. His brown eyes were lit with a happiness you were not comprehending.

“What are you talking about?” You whispered. “Why are you smiling like that?”

A chuckle rang out into the room as he stopped to stand in front of you. “How am I suppose to keep a stoic face after you confessed that you love me?” His smile only stayed on his lips when he did not receive any verbal response from you, locked into his happy moment. “I know you would never lie about your feelings. Not something as strong as love.”

You watched on, cautious.

What is he trying to say, that he likes the idea of me loving him? Uh. Is this normal? You thought.

“Perhaps I should have stated my feelings for you much earlier. Clearly you have been worn down with your heart and for that I apologize.”

“Feelings?”

“Yes,” he wet his lips briefly and straightened his posture. “I do care for you deeply, (Y/N). My feelings were already growing before I even recognized them.” His smile turned sheepish, but he persisted onwards. “I didn’t think I could have those feelings for anyone else, but….it’s different somehow. I’m not sure how to explain it. I feel better when I’m around you. We’re honest with each other and you’ve taught me so much already. I’ll make this as much like home as I can for you. I really want you in my life.”

It took a moment before you breathed in a small breath.

You knew that you were probably looking at him as if he had lost his ever-loving mind. Who could blame you at that point? You were in a completely different world. And one you knew of, mind you. It was bound time for a round of unpredictability.

Eyes the color of enriched soil underneath the blooming flowers in light of a summer sky watched you with surging hope.

Were you hallucinating? Lucid dreaming? No, you couldn’t be. There were far too many moments that would have had a timeskip or objects from back home. The only way you would have this much time with Eragon would be if it was real.

He’s serious? He’s serious.

Your chest tightened and somewhere inside all of your tension released. In its place there was a warmth that brought tears to your eyes.

Frustration rapidly melting away, you carefully turned to sit on the edge of the bed to compose yourself.

“Are you alright?” Eragon asked, kneeling down to look upon your face.

“I’m…,” you swallowed. “I’m still processing what you said.”

“Processing?”

“Just…uh… Can you give me a second?” You waved a gentle hand in his direction.

“Take as much time as you need,” Eragon said as he delicately took your hand in his own.

You internally groaned at how sweet he was even after you verbally rampaged him about leaving you alone.

Seeing as you did not retract your hand, the Rider held your hand against his chest. The position allowed you the rare opportunity to feel his heartbeat. A rapid beating of his heart as he awaited any sort of verbal response from you. Anything that would tell him if he should indeed pursue the strong feelings he had.

You snuck a peek at his face; clear of any imperfections of the sun and brown eyes lit up in hope.

“You’ve been interested in me this whole time?” You asked. “And I didn’t know it?”

After reviewing your choice in words, Eragon nodded.

“What the actually hell?” You laughed. “You develop feelings quick, sir.”

A lopsided smile appeared on his face. Your light teasing of his actions always did surprise him in the most satisfying ways.

“You’re not upset with me?” He asked. “About earlier.”

“A little.”

His smile dropped a fraction.

“But I’ll find it in myself to forgive you.” You smirked.

“Then I should be grateful.” Eragon held his head high. “I would rather face your affections than your wrath.”

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes. “That was smooth, but cutting it close.” You tugged on his hands. “Get over here.”

Before Eragon could stand, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace.

“You’re a bit of an odd one, you know that?”

Eragon nudged his head against your own. “I will gladly be odd if it means I can be with you.”

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Inheritance Cycle Tags: @shewhobreathesfire @emburbaguette

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

#Eragon reaction #Eragon x Reader #Eragon x Modern! Reader #Modern!Reader #Erica answers #where dreamers go #inheritance cycle #I finally finished it! I did it! #Eragon being a little sassy #Eragon fluff

[kellyvela]

Hi! I wanted to ask you something. Jon and Sansa thinking about having children and having domestic life with their respective partners is a strong foreshadowing for jonsa. Then there was Jeyne W who also told Cat that Robb was going to name their firstborn after Ned. While Robb is dead, it's not sure if jeyne is pregnant. Sansa didn't married to Willas and Jon will not gonna steal Val. Do you think it's foreshadowing something?

Before actually answering your question, I think we can't compare Robb and Jeyne, who willingly married, actively tried to have a baby, and were arguably in love, to Sansa and Willas (they never met, they never married, they weren't in love), and Jon and Val (they never had sex, they never married, they weren't in love).

Also, while having the wish to name their children after their late father and siblings, Sansa couldn't stop thinking about Loras, not Willas; and Jon wished Ygritte were alive so he could marry her instead of Val.

And Loras is a stand in for Jon the same way Ygritte is an stand in for Sansa.

. . .

"A king must have an heir."

Jeyne Westerling told Catelyn that Robb was going to name their firstborn after Ned???

Are you talking about this passage???

"Jeyne," she called after, "there's one more thing Robb needs from you, though he may not know it yet himself. A king must have an heir."

The girl smiled at that. "My mother says the same. She makes a posset for me, herbs and milk and ale, to help make me fertile. I drink it every morning. I told Robb I'm sure to give him twins. An Eddard and a Brandon. He liked that, I think. We . . . we try most every day, my lady. Sometimes twice or more." The girl blushed very prettily. "I'll be with child soon, I promise. I pray to our Mother Above, every night."

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn III

Because it was Jeyne who told Catelyn that she (Jeyne) was sure to give Robb twins to be named Eddard and Brandon, and that she thought Robb liked her idea (Jeyne's idea).

We don't know if Jeyne Westerling was, at some point, pregnant or not.

With all the Tully super fertility references, Jeyne could have been pregnant, but, as you can read in the quote above, her mother Sybell Spicer was giving her an abortifacient all the time, and sadly, that's what happened to Lysa Tully in the past... That's why a guilty Hoster Tully repeats "Tansy" in his sickbed several times, since "Tansy" was an ingredient of the abortifacient that Lysa took all those years ago...

The Lannister not only plotted to kill the King in the North, but also to prevent that said king have an heir... Sybell Spicer and the abortifacient were part of the plot.

And if there was still the slightest chance that Jeyne was pregnant with Robb Stark's heir, the Lannister would not hesitate to kill the unborn child and the mother, if necessary.

Actually, I'm afraid that in the next Book Jeyne Westerling will die anyway...

Now, Robb also used the same phrase "A king must have an heir." while later talking with Catelyn about the North's Succession, and guess who were the ones actively mentioned during that conversation? Any thoughts?

The answering is, a "Lady Lannister" (lol) and a "bastard Snow". Let's see:

"I had hoped to leave Jeyne with child . . . we tried often enough, but I'm not certain . . ."

"It does not always happen the first time." Though it did with you. "Nor even the hundredth. You are very young."

"Young, and a king," he said. "A king must have an heir. If I should die in my next battle, the kingdom must not die with me. By law Sansa is next in line of succession, so Winterfell and the north would pass to her." His mouth tightened. "To her, and her lord husband. Tyrion Lannister. I cannot allow that. I will not allow that. That dwarf must never have the north."

"No," Catelyn agreed. "You must name another heir, until such time as Jeyne gives you a son." She considered a moment. "Your father's father had no siblings, but his father had a sister who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch. They had three daughters, all of whom wed Vale lordlings. A Waynwood and a Corbray, for certain. The youngest . . . it might have been a Templeton, but . . ."

“Mother.” There was a sharpness in Robb’s tone. “You forget. My father had four sons.”

She had not forgotten; she had not wanted to look at it, yet there it was. “A Snow is not a Stark.”

“Jon’s more a Stark than some lordlings from the Vale who have never so much as set eyes on Winterfell.”

“Jon is a brother of the Night’s Watch, sworn to take no wife and hold no lands. Those who take the black serve for life.”

“So do the knights of the Kingsguard. That did not stop the Lannisters from stripping the white cloaks from Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Boros Blount when they had no more use for them. If I send the Watch a hundred men in Jon’s place, I’ll wager they find some way to release him from his vows.”

He is set on this. Catelyn knew how stubborn her son could be. “A bastard cannot inherit.”

“Not unless he’s legitimized by a royal decree,” said Robb. “There is more precedent for that than for releasing a Sworn Brother from his oath.”

“Precedent,” she said bitterly. “Yes, Aegon the Fourth legitimized all his bastards on his deathbed. And how much pain, grief, war, and murder grew from that? I know you trust Jon. But can you trust his sons? Or their sons? The Blackfyre pretenders troubled the Targaryens for five generations, until Barristan the Bold slew the last of them on the Stepstones. If you make Jon legitimate, there is no way to turn him bastard again. Should he wed and breed, any sons you may have by Jeyne will never be safe.”

“Jon would never harm a son of mine.”

“No more than Theon Greyjoy would harm Bran or Rickon?”

Grey Wind leapt up atop King Tristifer’s crypt, his teeth bared. Robb’s own face was cold. “That is as cruel as it is unfair. Jon is no Theon.”

“So you pray. Have you considered your sisters? What of their rights? I agree that the north must not be permitted to pass to the Imp, but what of Arya? By law, she comes after Sansa … your own sister, trueborn …”

“… and dead. No one has seen or heard of Arya since they cut Father’s head off. Why do you lie to yourself? Arya’s gone, the same as Bran and Rickon, and they’ll kill Sansa too once the dwarf gets a child from her. Jon is the only brother that remains to me. Should I die without issue, I want him to succeed me as King in the North. I had hoped you would support my choice.”

“I cannot,” she said. “In all else, Robb. In everything. But not in this … this folly. Do not ask it.”

“I don’t have to. I’m the king.” Robb turned and walked off, Grey Wind bounding down from the tomb and loping after him.

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V

As you can see from the quote above, Robb and Catelyn were pushing to prevent Sansa or Jon from inheriting Winterfell and the North after Robb. For Robb, the problem was that Sansa was "Lady Lannister," and for Catelyn, the problem was that Jon was a bastard "Snow," and a brother of the Night's Watch.

Ironically, Robb ended up losing Winterfell and the North, and it will be precisely Sansa (the Lannister by marriage) and Jon (the bastard Snow) the ones retaking the ancestral seat and all the lands of House Stark, and I suspect they will do it together.

Indeed, Robb and Catelyn's conversation is also very telling because Robb said: "By law Sansa is next in line of succession, so Winterfell and the north would pass to her". But since Sansa was married to Tyrion Lannister, Robb had to name another heir, Jon.

Robb's reasoning is a contrast to Jon's reaction to the offer of getting Winterfell and the North.  Stannis Baratheon used the same argument (Sansa's marriage to Tyrion Lannister) to convince Jon to accept his offer to become a legitimized Stark and Lord of Winterfell, Stannis even called Sansa “Lady Lannister”, but no matter what, Jon didn’t accept Stannis's offer.

And what was Jon's answer?

“By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon I

Jon said, “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon IV

Beautiful, isn't it?

And Jon and Sansa could also produce a new generation of Starks, honoring their late relatives by naming their children Eddard, Robb and Catelyn, the ones that are actually dead, because fortunately Arya, Bran and Rickon are still alive, even if Jon and Sansa believe they are all dead.

She pictured the two of them sitting together in a garden with puppies in their laps, or listening to a singer strum upon a lute while they floated down the Mander on a pleasure barge. If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras. And to hate Lannisters, too. In Sansa's dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa II

I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We'd find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

Be still my beating heart!

. . .

So if you're wondering if the sad fate of Jeyne Westerling and Robb, who had a similar wish to Sansa and Jon's wishes, to name their children after their late father and siblings, could mean something negative for Jon and Sansa in the future. The answer is no.

#anon asks #jonsa

[butterflies-dragons]

Hey! There was a giant lemon cake with phallic image in alayne chapter. Do you think it some coincidence or it means something? Especially it's presented by petyr. Also Sansa and her enemies giving her lemoncakes give same vibes as Hansel&gretel story.

And best of all, Lord Nestor’s cooks prepared a splendid subtlety, a lemon cake in the shape of the Giant’s Lance, twelve feet tall and adorned with an Eyrie made of sugar.

For me, Alayne thought, as they wheeled it out. Sweetrobin loved lemon cakes too, but only after she told him that they were her favorites. The cake had required every lemon in the Vale, but Petyr had promised that he would send to Dorne for more.

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

Petyr Baelish is grooming Sansa, that’s the awful truth. And he has studied Sansa, he knows what she likes/wants and he will use that knowledge in his favor.

He knows she had a distant relationship with Ned, so he becomes Alayne’s father.

He knows that Ned neglected her and that she always craved for her father’s validation, so he gives her that, he praised her wits for example, and called her clever and smart. 

If Sansa says something like “I can’t” or “I don’t know”, he is there to encourage and support and tell her “you can do it” & “you know it”.  

He knows she loves knights and tourneys, so he allows her to organize a tournament, whose winners will belong to a kind of “Kingsguard” for Sweetrobin, based on the child’s favorite hero of the legends: The Winged Knight, Ser Artys Arryn.

He knows she loves lemon cakes, so he gives her a giant lemon cake.    

The Tyrells has used the same strategy:

"Sansa," Lady Alerie broke in, "you must be very hungry. Shall we have a bite of boar together, and some lemon cakes?"

"Lemon cakes are my favorite," Sansa admitted.

"So we have been told," declared Lady Olenna, who obviously had no intention of being hushed. "That Varys creature seemed to think we should be grateful for the information. I've never been quite sure what the point of a eunuch is, if truth be told. It seems to me they're only men with the useful bits cut off. Alerie, will you have them bring the food, or do you mean to starve me to death? Here, Sansa, sit here next to me, I'm much less boring than these others. I hope that you're fond of fools."

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa I

We all know how much Sansa loves her lemon cakes, but the Tyrells and Littlefinger really treat her as if she were a child like Sweetrobin:

"Will they be lemon cakes?" Lord Robert loved lemon cakes, perhaps because Alayne did.

"Lemony lemony lemon cakes," she assured him, "and you can have as many as you like."

"A hundred?" he wanted to know. "Could I have a hundred?"

"If it please you." She sat on the bed and smoothed his long, fine hair. He does have pretty hair. Lady Lysa had brushed it herself every night, and cut it when it wanted cutting. After she had fallen Robert had suffered terrible shaking fits whenever anyone came near him with a blade, so Petyr had commanded that his hair be allowed to grow. Alayne wound a lock around her finger, and said, "Now, will you get out of bed and let us dress you?"

"I want a hundred lemon cakes and five tales!"

I'd like to give you a hundred spankings and five slaps. You would not dare behave like this if Petyr were here. The little lord had a good healthy fear of his stepfather. Alayne forced a smile. "As my lord desires. But nothing till you're washed and dressed and on your way. Come, before the morning's gone." She took him firmly by the hand, and drew him out of bed.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

The lemon cake in the shape of the Giant’s Lance

The Giant's Lance is the tallest peak of the Mountains of the Moon within the Vale of Arryn, extending three and a half miles above the the valley below.

The great-grandfather of Petyr Baelish was a Braavosi sellsword that came into the Vale of Arryn at the service of Lord Corbray. His line was continued by his son, who became a hedge knight and took the head of the Titan of Braavos as his sigil.

As I mentioned in this post, a sword, Ice in particular, works as a phallic symbol in Sansa’s chapters. 

So, we can also make this association:

The Titan of Braavos = A Giant

The Giant’s Lance = Tallest Peak

Lance & Peak = phallic symbols 

Lemon cake in the shape of the Giant’s Lance = I don’t want to write it 

We can also say that Petyr Baelish is “compensating” his “shortfalls”, after all he is a short man called Littlefinger.  

Yes, I think this giant lemon cake could be seen as a phallic symbol and it makes sense with Littlefinger grooming her... yikes

¡¡¡SOMEONE SAVE HER PLEASE!!!   

My friend @lostlittlesatellites has already wrote about these subjects, giant lemon cake as phallic symbol and Hansel and Gretel story: 

I argued that lemon cakes in Sansa’s arc actually spell people trying to exploit Sansa’s weakness in an almost Hansel & Gretel way and a betrayal that follows.

“Interestingly Sansa’s first chapter in AGOT poses questions that will drive majority of her arc. Her desire for a courtly life in the South will not only prove to be hollow but worse a dream that turns into nightmare. Sansa asks two questions: “What could you want to see? It’s just fields and farms and holdfasts” and “Why would you want to ride a smelly old horse and get all sore and sweaty when you could recline on feather pillows and eat cakes with the queen?”

The world is larger than Sansa has been taught to believe, reclining more inward into her dreams with the strict regime that she taught to look away from the window. She doesn’t think she is prepared enough and that she needs more training. Yes, she doesn’t know enough but neither does Arya or Bran or Jon. Having Sansa finally leave her cage after completing her tutelage under Littlefinger is continuing that student-teacher dynamic she has had since Septa Mordane. People come to love the security of the cage they live in too long. This is why it takes so long to take out the fear of the outside from Sansa because the fact that she has barely any experience keeps her thinking she needs someone to rely on.

[…]

The “Feather pillows and cakes with the queen” part represents the glamour that attracts little boys and girls like Sansa. However, it is hollow as Sansa comes to realise about many things. In fact, people offering Sansa lemon cakes in Sansa’s storyline often forebodes a betrayal from the person offering it. Cersei offers her lemon cakes and a few chapters later she has Lady executed and even later, she has Ned arrested. Olenna offers Sansa lemon cakes, which Varys offers as valuable information to bring her guard down in order to lure her into her trap of marrying her to Wilas and getting hold of Winterfell and the North. They have her wear the murder weapon, which could implicate her for Joffrey’s murder even if their target is Tyrion. Littlefinger is offering her a 12 foot phallic shaped lemon cake in Sansa’s TWOW chapter. Given how happy Sansa is in this chapter that she is almost forgetting that she isn’t Alayne, the food is way too lavish when Winter is coming and along with this trend with lemon cakes, the clock is going to strike 12 and the illusion is going to break very soon. Soon Sansa will prefer riding those “smelly horses” and getting sweaty and sore in order to escape over those lemon cakes and feather beds offered by untrustworthy people. For Sansa’s arc to be fulfilling she has to experience the lives of small folk up close before she helps them. As a character whose view range is often myopic, she has to be put in the middle of the lives of the small folk to truly understand them.”

I highly recommend you to check @lostlittlesatellites blog, she’s a great ASOIAF meta writer, you can read more about these subjects here and here. She covered a lot of themes and symbolisms around Sansa in the Vale, some of them very disturbing regarding Littlefinger’s present and future actions against Sansa...   

But despite all that, since GRRM is a writer that likes to give different meanings to a same thing, there are also some very interesting details that are worthy to mention about the real Giant’s Lance:

So lovely. The snow-clad summit of the Giant's Lance loomed above her, an immensity of stone and ice that dwarfed the castle perched upon its shoulder. Icicles twenty feet long draped the lip of the precipice where Alyssa's Tears fell in summer. A falcon soared above the frozen waterfall, blue wings spread wide against the morning sky. Would that I had wings as well. 

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne I

The Winged Knight was Ser Artys Arryn. Legend said that he had driven the First Men from the Vale and flown to the top of the Giant's Lance on a huge falcon to slay the Griffin King.  

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

I can see strong dragon imagery here... 

I already wrote about how Sansa wishing falcon wings could be foreshadowing of her getting dragon wings.  

Here I also listed all the similarities between Jon and Sweetrobin.

But the most interesting detail is that the real Giant’s Lance is Stone covered by Ice/Snow. 

Sansa’s Vale arc has a lot of connections with Jon Snow, like this parallel that I called “Children of the Mountains”.

There is also the names of the waycastles Stone (Alayne) and Snow (Jon).

And one of my favorite Jon Snow reference in Sansa’s chapters, the ghost wolf, big as mountains:

All around was empty air and sky, the ground falling away sharply to either side. There was ice underfoot, and broken stones just waiting to turn an ankle, and the wind was howling fiercely. It sounds like a wolf, thought Sansa. A ghost wolf, big as mountains.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

So, 

The Giant’s Lance is the tallest peak of the Mountains of the Moon.

The Giant’s Lance is Stone covered by Ice/Snow.

Sansa compared those mountains with a giant Ghost Wolf.  

I’m sorry Littlefinger, you can’t touch this girl!

Thanks for your message.

#anon ask #jonsa #alayne stone #lemon cakes

[ms-rampage]

Eden’s Gate: Aftermath Chapter 7 - Now That The World Is Ending

Warnings: Cuteness, Gabriel holding baby/toddler Daenerys

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: In the final chapter of Aftermath, as the bombs drop down to Earth above their heads. The Winchesters have a surprise guest living with them. 

Guest OCs: Just the usuals. 

Guest Characters: Archangel Gabriel [Supernatural], John Seed [mentioned]

Note: Next is NEW DAWN: NEW HORIZONS. Taking place 15-17 years later in the year 2035. THANK YOU FOR READING MY CRAP!!!!

Far Cry New Dawn x Supernatural [crossover with OCs]

********

“Gabriel?!?” Kate mutters in confusion, and also in surprise. He looks up at the two sisters, with a soft smile on his face and weakly mutters “Surprise to see me?”. That question was directed towards Kate, and she smiles back in return. 

Surprised and also happy to see her Archangel. 

“How did you g-” Paige asks, before stopping herself when she realizes it was a stupid question, “That was a stupid question”.

They help him up, and take him to the main room. Sitting him down on the living room couch.

“Gabriel?!?” Mandy mutters as she walks into the room. In shock and surprised to see the wounded celestial, bleeding a little through his shirt. 

Paige leaves her mom, sister and the Archangel by themselves to go get Kenny and the others. Mandy then stands up, and goes to grab a first aid kit, or something that can heal an Archangel. Leaving Kate and Gabriel alone. She takes a seat in front of him. They look at each other for a few seconds. 

“What happened?!” she asks, opening his shirt, and cleaning his wound on his stomach. 

He shrugs, and softly groans in pain “I’ve sorta lost my powers”.

She furrows her eyebrows at him, “Sorta?!?”. 

He sighs, “I’ve lost some of my powers when I was cast out”.

She looks at him, confused, “Cast out?. What do you mean cast out?”

He looks at her, “I’m sure you saw the giant mushroom cloud in the sky”. She nods, “Yeah, we all saw it”.

He shifts in his spot on the couch, “Did you see what else appeared in the sky shortly after?".

Shaking her head, “No, we all ran down here. What else happened?”.

He looks her in the eyes, and says in the most dramatic way possible, “All Angels were cast out of Heaven”. 

Her eyes widened, “What?!?. All of them? Everyone?". He nods his head slowly, she stands up from her spot, and paces. Worried about her boyfriend, her friends and everyone she got to know in Hope County. Playing with the bracelet Wheaty gave her. Her thoughts are interrupted by the wounded Archangel on the couch in front of her. 

“A boyfriend huh?” he asks, chuckling and looking up at her.

She looks at him confused, “What?!?”.

“You got a boyfriend?" he asks, "Or had one".

She tries to hold back her tears, biting her lip “Not helpful Gabe” she mutters softly. Standing there in front of him, her hands resting on her cheeks, looking at the floor. Her anxiety builds up, and her hands become shaky. 

Gabriel stares at her stomach, just something about it looks different to him. It looks slightly bigger, like she put on some weight. He can’t seem to put his finger on it, but whatever it is he can feel some strange essence, or some sort of energy coming from it, coming from her body. She has a slight glow on her face, but it could be sweat. 

Kate notices him staring at her stomach. “Why are you staring at my stomach?!?” she asks, glaring over at him. Breaking his focus on her slightly bigger stomach. 

He looks up at her, anticipating for her to slap him for asking the question, “Don't hit me for asking this but, did you gain weight??”.

She scoffs at him, rolling her eyes, and crosses her arms. Taking a few steps away from him, “You never ask those types of questions to a human Gabe”. 

He tilts his head, curiosity getting the best of him, and motions her to come towards him, “Come towards me”. She heeds, and walks towards him, standing in arms reach. He places his hand on her 7 and a half week baby bump, and feels why his curiosity is concerned about her belly. 

His eyes widened, he looks up at her with his eyebrows raised “You’re pregnant?!”. 

Feeling somewhat hurt that his special human is pregnant with another man's child. 

For a moment she forgets that she’s carrying another tiny human being inside her, she nods her head, “Yeah. I am”.

"And it's not mine?!" he jokes, totally not hurt that his human is pregnant. Moving his hand away. 

She scoffs again, "We both know the outcome for that". Taking a seat next to him.

"You were there, you knew I'm pregnant" she tells him. He looks at her confused. 

"I was where??" he asks, very confused. She looks at him in disbelief,  thinking this Trickster is messing with her. "In my hallucination trip. A few months ago" she tells him. 

He looks at her like he has no idea what she's talking about. Shrugging, "What are you talking about??". 

She shakes her head, "It's nothing. Forget it". She drops the hold thing, she knows what she saw in her bliss hallucination a few months ago. 

A few moments later, Paige walks back into the living room with Kenneth, Cody, Martin, Mark, Nate and Adrian. 

"Gabriel?!?" the 6 men say in unison. 

The Archangel chuckles, "Did you all rehearse that?!". 

He catches them all up on what was happening in the world. Angels, all of them were all cast out of Heaven, God tried to wipe out all of humanity with a nuclear explosion. The Collapse. The Reckoning. The Apocalypse. The End. The whole world is up in flames. Literally. Heaven is shut down with no one but God up in cloud city. 

*****

May 2019. 7 months later

It’s been 7 months since the bombs were dropped. After several hours the bombs stopped falling, and you'd think everything would be safe to go back out. Nope, knowing that you're gonna have to live underground in a bunker with 20 other people for the next 6 and a half years. After 2 and a half months the world has now ended but it's only just begun. 

No other bombs, or explosions have been dropped by The Man upstairs. The World was going through the route of regrowing, and being reborned. Starting over again.

On May 2nd, Kate gave birth to a healthy baby girl. A few weeks earlier on April 16th, Paige had a C-section giving birth to triplets, 2 boys and 1 girl with the help of Cody, his wife and Adrian’s wife Amanda delivered all 4 of them. Having all the right equipment in the bunker infirmary, stored away.

Jeffrey Dean Winchester-Smith named after her cousin, Dean. Weighing 7 pounds, and 5 ounces.

Thomas Sam Winchester-Smith also named after her cousin, Sam. Weighing 7 pounds, and 5 ounces. 

Bianca Rhea Winchester-Smith because she's always liked the name Bianca. Weighing 7 pounds, and 4 ounces. 

Daenerys Arya Brienne Winchester named after Daenerys Targaryen, Arya Stark and Brienne of Tarth all female characters from Game of Thrones. Being the smallest of the 4 infants, weighing 6 pounds, and 5 ounces. 

Cristina is over a year old. 1 year, and 6 months old. She is now walking, she has almost all of her teeth, and can say 7 to 10 words. She is able to comprehend language, and know from right from wrong. From good from bad. 

The triplets are a little over a month old now, Daenerys is 2 in a half weeks old. 

During her pregnancy, Gabriel was very protective of Kate, even though they were all living underground in a huge bunker, and couldn't leave for another 6 in a half years. 

Cradling her 20 day old daughter in her arms, Kate feeds her a bottle of formula. Gabriel was very cautious around her, afraid that he'll somehow hurt the tiny infant. Even though he has very little to no powers left in him. 

He tried to keep a safe distance from her, Kate constantly reminded him that he didn’t need to worry about hurting the infant. That he and Daenerys will be fine. He is very fond of humans, of course, unlike most celestial beings. That was his one fear, hurting her. 

"You wanna hold her?!" she asks him. He looks up at her, stammering. "Uhh, do-do you want me to?". 

She smiles at him, "It's fine with me" she responds. She hands him the tiny infant. He holds her, cradling her and she starts to fuss in his arms. Making her typical baby sounds. 

He groans uncomfortably, holding her away from him, stammering “Uhhh w-what is happening?!?”.

“She’s fine” she reassures him, fixing her baby blanket, “It’s a normal infant reaction”. 

She starts to calm down, yawning and falling asleep in Gabriel’s arms with her finger in her mouth. 

“What’s happening?!?” he nervously asks, “Is she dead?!?”. 

She looks at him, chuckling, “She’s not dead. She’s asleep”. She takes the infant from his arms and puts her in her old bassinet. 

Paige comes in holding one of her triplets. “Hey” she says, looking down at the one month old infant in her arms. 

“Hey” Kate responds, “Which triplet is that?”. 

She groans unsurely, and checks the diaper, “Thomas, and/or Jeffrey”.

“It’s Thomas!” Kenneth calls out from the next room over, “You’re holding Thomas!”. 

She points in the direction where her husband's voice came from “The 2nd one. Thomas Sam”. 

“How’s the scar?” she asks, referring to her C-section scar. 

She groans uncomfortably, “It’s healing. Slowly, but it’s healing”. 

*****

Later that night, Everyone is in their own bunker rooms. Kate is in hers, changing Daenerys into her night onesie. 

Talking to the infant in a soft voice. Gabriel, who is a few rooms over, can hear Kate and the tiny human with the very little powers he has. Leaning against the headboard of his bed, listening to her conversation.

He knows he’s Kate’s Guardian Angel, he saved her several times, he gripped her tight, and raised her from perdition when she was a somewhat innocent teenager. He’s her soulmate as well. He has had these feelings for her since forever. He knows she would be better off with her boyfriend before God dropped the bombs on humanity, but he’s most likely dead. John? He’s dead as well, and he knows damn well that Daenerys is his kid. He knows Kate is ashamed that she’s his kid, regardless she loves her. 

He couldn't possibly imagine how Daenerys would've turned out if John Seed had lived. How he would've treated Kate, how that demented, psycho family would've treated a pregnant Kate. A premarital baby. How that sadist psychopath would somehow ruin Kate and their baby.

He gets up, and goes to her room. Walks down the hall and knocks on the door. 

“Yeah?” she responds her voice muffled from behind the closed door. He opens the door and steps inside her bedroom. 

“Hey” he sighs, “How she doin’?”. 

“She’s doing great” she answers, taking a seat on her bed. Gabriel takes the leap of faith, not holding back.

“I just wanted to get us over with” he tells her. Kate looks at him confused, “What are you talking about?!?”. 

He lays down on her bed, laying on his side with his hand prompt up against his cheek. Looking up at her. 

He lifts up his free hand from behind him, and holds a diamond ring between his index and middle fingers. Her eyes light up, and gasps softly. 

“You already know where I’m going with this” he chuckles, “Will you marry me? Blah, blah, blah. I love you. Blah, blah, blah. You could do so much more better than that idiot Yes man John Seed”.

She laughs softly at his comments, “So. In all seriousness” he continues, “Will you marry me?”. 

She looks at him, “You already know the answer” she whispers to him before passionately kissing him on the lips.

Katella Evyanna Winchester is set to marry an Archangel. Archangel Gabriel. She always thought of herself as the human he had to protect. That’s all she thought she was to him. His human.

*****

A few years later, November 2022, the children are all 3 years old, Cristina turned 5 years old that same month. 

Daenerys, the youngest of all the children, wakes up at 6:00am, which is unusual for a child at her age to get up at, and feel energetic.

Her and the other 4 Winchester children share the same bedroom, across the hall from their parents rooms. She stumbles to Kate and Gabriel’s room, pushes the door open and climbs onto their bed. 

“Mommy! Daddy!” she says loudly, waking them up. 

Kate groans, as her daughter steps on her with her tiny feet. She sits on Gabriel’s chest and playfully slaps his cheeks. Waking him up.

“What?” he asks, half asleep. She giggles softly, “Wakey wakey”. He chuckles softly, slowly sitting up. 

He looks over at the clock, “It’s 6 in the morning, how are you so energetic?!” he asks the 3 year old child. 

She lets out a playful giggle, and jumps up and down on their bed. 

She looks up at the child bouncing on the bed, having the same exact eyes as John. Those baby blue eyes that she got from him, a reminder that this little bundle of joy and happiness is also John Seed's daughter. 

He gets up out of bed and carries the 3 year old child down the bunker hallway towards the kitchen. 

Despite him being an Archangel with very little of his powers. He manages to get 3-6 hours of sleep, and eat solid foods. Not wanting to use his very little powers in fear that he’ll hurt any of the children living in the bunker, he manages to get by without using them, he knows the world above them is going through some change, a huge massive change that'll change everyone's lives. 

But finally being able to marry the human he fell in love with, and fathering her child, he was more than happy to be a part of their lives.  

Paige and Kenneth walk into the kitchen shortly after, her holding Jeffrey and Thomas in each of her arms. Kenneth holding Bianca, and Cristina following behind him. 

"Here you go" Paige mutters, sitting the two toddlers in their seats at the kitchdn table. Everyone else wakes up half an hour later. Adrian, and his wife Amanda. Mark, his wife Dana and 2 kids. Nate, his wife Ellen and 3 kids, Martin and his fiancée Megan, Cody and his wife Brandy. Mandy, Barbara, Kenneth, Gabriel, Paige, Kate and their kids. 

One bunker with 20+ people, and 1 Archangel living in it. 16 adults, and 10 kids. Having to spend another 2-4 years underground while the Earth regrows, and the radiation goes away. Its only a matter of time, and they can go back to their normal lives, or at least they think its their normal lives. 

Hopefully, a new hope. A New Dawn. New Horizons will come their way.

#far cry 5 #far cry new dawn #paige winchester #kate winchester #mandy winchester #kenneth smith #oc: barabara teller #archangel gabriel #spn gabriel #my ocs #my crossover #my crossover shit #john seed #fc5 #eden's gate series #eden's gate: aftermath #my writings #my series #far cry new dawn x supernatural #far cry new dawn ocs #fcnd #fcnd ocs #oc: mark massie #oc: nate massie #oc: cody reynolds #oc: adrian wray #oc: martin quinn #far cry 5 ocs #my far cry 5 ocs

[lionessfics47]

The cringey little PxS 80s AU no one asked for

“You’ve got to try one of these!” Margaery said, pulling Sansa through the food court to the Orange Julius shop, rainbow-layered skirts bouncing as she walked in front.

“Do you have any lemon-flavored drinks?” Sansa asked the cashier hopefully, when it was her turn.

“No, just orange and strawberry,” the young boy replied.

“I’ll take a strawberry then,” Sansa said, checking her swatch watch for the time. Her mother would be livid if she was late for the ladies tea she had scheduled with her Aunt Lysa and it looked more and more like Sansa was going to miss the bus. Margaery took way too long listening to CD samples and endlessly flirting with that mullet-haired Joffrey boy, without any regard to Sansa’s schedule. Sansa had only agreed to the stupid drink in the first place because she was now dying of thirst and nearly shaking from not having eaten anything all day. She needed sugar, fast. 

It wasn’t that she was trying to diet, she’d just gotten caught up trying to please everyone; first Arya - who wanted her to watch her new skateboarding jumps, then Bran - who showed her some new Atari game, and finally Rickon - who wanted her to play with his new Glo worm toy. 

None of this would have been a problem if her mom let her have her own car. Sipping the sweet, strawberry concoction, Sansa looked toward the mall’s entrance hall. Maybe I better find a pay phone to call Robb, she thought. He might still be at home and could give me a ride...

#

“Darn it!” Sansa cursed under her breath, cradling the phone back on the hook.

“Those things are terribly unreliable,” said an accented voice behind her. Sansa jumped and turned to see a handsome, older man standing just a little too close. “If you need a phone, I have one in my car.”

She tried not to gape, it wasn’t polite. “You... have a phone in your car?” The man certainly looked suave enough. Her keen eye caught the flash of his shiny, new Rolex.

“I do,” the man said. “I’d be happy to let you make as many calls as you like. You seem quite distressed.”

“I - yes, but it’s not the pay phone. My brother isn’t home and I was hoping he could give me a ride,” Sansa explained, playing nervously with the colorful jelly bracelets trailing up her wrist.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance in that regard as well,” the older man said. “The car phone is indeed attached to said car,” he quipped, a smile playing on his lips.

Sansa balked at the suggestion. Rolex or no, she didn’t jump into automobiles with strange men. Especially older, experienced-looking ones.  “I’m sorry, mister, but I don’t know you and I’m certainly not going to just get into a car with a stranger.”

“My name is Petyr,” he replied, still smiling. “Petyr Baelish. So now, I’m not a stranger anymore, am I?”

You’re quite presumptuous is what you are, Sansa thought.

“I hardly think knowing your name translates to me knowing you intimately-” Sansa nearly choked at her poor choice of words and rushed to correct, “-I mean knowing you as more than a stranger!”

Mister Petyr Baelish’s eyes seemed to dance at her squirming. “Of course not. Where are my manners? It wouldn’t be appropriate for us to get to know one another under any circumstances less than dinner. I’ll assume the mall food is far beneath the standards of a girl like you. Shall we say Bistro Noir, tomorrow night at eight?”

“I- I-” Sansa was completely confused. How did she go from protesting that she couldn’t get into his car - which was the proper thing to say - to being propositioned for... a date? Which was ten steps past ride-sharing.

“Um, thanks but, I can’t go to dinner with you. I mean, you don’t look like you’re in college anymore.” High school, Sansa wanted to say, but for some reason she bit her tongue. Partially because, well, the man obviously wasn’t in high school but also because she didn’t want him to know she was... so she sort-of implied she was older... 

Petyr cocked a smirk. “No it’s been quite a while since my university days but I’ve been so busy working since then that the time seems to have flown. If dinner is too formal, perhaps you could join me on the job tonight?”  Sansa scrunched up her face. “Why would I join you at work?” “Oh, did I forget to mention? I manage a little Irish band playing the arena this evening. U2? Perhaps you’ve heard of them? If dinner is too formal, maybe a concert would suffice?”  Sansa’s mouth dropped.  “Why don’t you come by backstage tonight? You can bring your friend,” Petyr said, nodding over her shoulder. Sansa turned to see Margaery staring not-too-subtly at them both. “Tell me your name, sweetling, and I’ll make sure to leave two backstage passes at the door.”  “It’s... Sansa,” she breathed, awed. Could he truly be the manager of her favorite band? And how had she neglected to give him her name until then? “Sansa Stark.” 

Petyr’s eyebrows rose and his tongue darted out. It seemed to stop just short of licking his lips. “Stark, you say? Well it’s been a pleasure meeting you Ms. Stark.” “I - yes. It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Baelish,” Sansa replied, cautiously. The man was lying. He couldn’t really be the manager for U2.  “I must be going,” Petyr said. He winked and added, “Come by anytime tonight, Ms. Stark, and I’ll have passes for two people waiting at the door.”  Without another word or a backward glance, he left, and Margaery grabbed Sansa from behind, squealing. 

“Tell me everything, you sly little devil!” she cried. “Who was that sexy older man?” 

“Uh... someone named Petyr Baelish,” Sansa replied, dazed. 

A pause as Margaery’s eyes rounded and then, she shrieked. “Are you kidding me? Do you know who that is? He’s a famous band manager! He’s working with U2 now!” 

Sansa’s mouth dropped and she shook her head in disbelief. “You’re not gonna believe this Marg, but... he invited us backstage tonight.”  “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” Margaery shouted. “What are we going to wear?”  For some reason, Sansa’s stomach seemed to fill with butterflies -- not in wondering what she’d put on to meet her favorite band... but as she pondered what dress she’d wear to see the mysterious older man that night...

ETA: I forgot the cheesy 80s music!

“Romantic eyes, persuasive lips

The helpless heart just can't resist their power

You know you've got a hold of me

You know you've got me where I want to be

'Cause lover

Like a wave you keep pulling me under

How I'll ever get out of this, I don't know

I just know that there's no way to fight it

Whoa...”

- I Get Weak, Belinda Carlisle

#petyr x sansa #petyr being a sleeze #but Sansa is of age #barely #total fluff #80s au #just a short #oops thought cds were in the 80s

[agentrouka-blog]

What do you think about stannis arc to be ended?

I think it will be fun! 

He’s obviously doomed. Kinslaying, blood magic, obsession with prophecy and affronting all gods beside R’hllor… 

I’m quite sure he will pull a full-on Agamemnon. The shoe fits. Kinslaying, prophecy-spouting mistress (anti-Cassandra = Melisandre), on the war path… He and his ever more radicalized red-god-followers will probably end up sacrificing Shireen to compensate for a setback, in a mirror to Iphigenia. 

My hope: In some completely unexpected way, Selyse will be the one to kill him over it. Just a complete inward collapse of his House. 

"I never asked for this crown. Gold is cold and heavy on the head, but so long as I am the king, I have a duty . . . If I must sacrifice one child to the flames to save a million from the dark . . . Sacrifice . . . is never easy, Davos. Or it is no true sacrifice. Tell him, my lady."

Melisandre said, "Azor Ahai tempered Lightbringer with the heart's blood of his own beloved wife. If a man with a thousand cows gives one to god, that is nothing. But a man who offers the only cow he owns . . ." 

(ASOS, Davos VI)

What does Stannis have only one of? Children. 

Why would Selyse do it? Because she loves her daughter. 

"Eastwatch is not safe." The queen put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "This is the king's true heir. Shireen will one day sit the Iron Throne and rule the Seven Kingdoms. She must be kept from harm, and Eastwatch is where the attack will come. This Nightfort is the place my husband has chosen for our seat, and there we shall abide. We—oh!"

An enormous shadow emerged from behind the shell of the Lord Commander's Tower. Princess Shireen gave a shriek, and three of the queen's knights gasped in harmony. Another swore. "Seven save us," he said, quite forgetting his new red god in his shock. (ADWD, Jon IX)

Also, it would be beautifully ironic:

"Lord Snow, as Lady Val is a stranger to our ways, please send her to me, that I might instruct her in the duties of a noble lady toward her lord husband."

That will go splendidly, I know. Jon wondered if the queen would be so eager to see Val married to one of her own knights if she knew Val's feelings about Princess Shireen. (ADWD, Jon XIII)

Also, we are unsubtly pushed not to expect it:

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

That was just a softer way of saying let them die. (ADWD, Jon XIII)

A misdirection to make us believe she doesn’t truly love her daughter, and is unfazed by murdering children. Nope. Touch Shireen and she will forget the red god. 

Sort of a mirror to Dany. Magic, Rhaego dies, Dany kills Drogo. Fire. The khalasar scatters. Kingsblood wakes a stone dragon.

"Your brother's blood," Melisandre said. "A king's blood. Only a king's blood can wake the stone dragon."

Stannis ground his teeth. "I'll hear no more of this. The dragons are done. The Targaryens tried to bring them back half a dozen times. And made fools of themselves, or corpses. Patchface is the only fool we need on this godsforsaken rock. You have the leeches. Do your work." (ASOS, Davos IV)

Stannis shed a lot of kingsblood with those magic leeches: Balon’s, Joffrey’s, Robb’s. Plus Renly.

Dany: Viserys (Renly), Rhaego (Shireen), Drogo (Selyse), Mirri (Melisandre) -> woke three stone dragons. Stone being a bastard name like Snow. Jon’s heart having turned to stone. Possibly this connects to Sansa (Alayne Stone), as well, but it gives us a general timeline.

The clouds hid most of the Ice Dragon, all but the bright blue eye that marked due north. The sky is full of smugglers' stars. They were old friends, those stars; Davos hoped that meant good luck.

But when he lowered his gaze from the sky to the castle ramparts, he was not so certain. The wings of the stone dragons cast great black shadows in the light from the nightfire. (ASOS, Davos VI)

The nightfire will cast stone dragon shadows, in the North, where a hidden (ice) dragon has a blue eye. The enormous shadow that made Shireen shriek had come from behind the shell of the Lord Commander’s Tower. 

Ominous.

If it is not Selyse, very importantly, I do not want it to be Brienne. She is intimately connected to Catelyn and Arya’s arc of justice v. vengeance, and like Arya’s competing list of names (kill list v. alias based on loved ones), Brienne has competing oaths, competing swords.

It made sense enough for Brienne. “I will kill him,” the tall homely girl declared. “With my lord’s own sword, I will kill him. I swear it. I swear it. I swear it.” (ACOK, Catelyn IV)

She wants to devote herself to vengeance, but Cat gives her a different purpose.

Brienne closed her thick callused fingers around the hilt of her sword. The sword that had been his. "I swore a vow. Three times I swore. You heard me." (...)

“My son may be a king, but I am no queen . . . only a mother who would keep her children safe, however she could.” “I am not made to be a mother. I need to fight.” “Then fight . . . but for the living, not the dead.” (…)

“And I think, when the time comes, you will not try and hold me back. Promise me that. That you will not hold me back from Stannis.” Catelyn could still hear Stannis saying that Robb’s turn too would come in time. It was like a cold breath on the back of her neck. “When the time comes, I will not hold you back.” The tall girl knelt awkwardly, unsheathed Renly’s longsword, and laid it at her feet. “Then I am yours, my lady. Your liege man, or . . . whatever you would have me be. I will shield your back and keep your counsel and give my life for yours, if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new.”

(ACOK, Catelyn V)

Brienne is set on a path to preserve life, not take it, with Jaime.

Brienne pushed open the door and stepped inside the cell. “You called, my lady?” “Give me your sword.” Catelyn held out her hand. (ACOK, Catelyn VII)

Oathbreaking is a theme...

Up again. “Yield, or I’ll drown you!” “And break your oath?” he snarled. “Like me?” She let him go, and he went down with a splash. (…)

Brienne dove for her sword beneath the waters of the brook, but the Mummers were on her before she could lay hands on it. (ASOS, Jaime III)

She loses the bad sword of vengeance. But she will gain another one:

"A sword so fine must bear a name. It would please me if you would call this one Oathkeeper. One more thing. The blade comes with a price."  (…)

"I have made kings and unmade them. Sansa Stark is my last chance for honor." Jaime smiled thinly. "Besides, kingslayers should band together. Are you ever going to go?"

Her big hand wrapped tight around Oathkeeper. "I will. And I will find the girl and keep her safe. For her lady mother's sake. And for yours." She bowed stiffly, whirled, and went.  (ASOS, Jaime IX)

Kingslayers should band together. But she is not truly one, nor should she be. Her fight is for the living.

Lady Catelyn's fingers dug deep into her throat, and the words came rattling out, choked and broken, a stream as cold as ice. The northman said, "She says that you must choose. Take the sword and slay the Kingslayer, or be hanged for a betrayer. The sword or the noose, she says. Choose, she says. Choose."  (AFFC, Brienne VIII)

Brienne fights for the living. There is one vow she needs to break: to become a kingslayer for vengeance. 

There is every chance I am wrong, but this is my optimal scenario. 

#asoiaf #stannis baratheon #selyse baratheon #shireen baratheon #iphigenia #agamemnon #jon snow #brienne of tarth #oathkeeper #kingslayer

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Because of @roselevesque wondering what kind of trouble a Lawlight child would get into... here are some ridiculous headcanons I’ve come up with, about Arya Stark from “A Song of Ice and Fire” being Light and L’s adopted daughter in some weird AU.

So, Light and L adopt Arya for an A+ reason to start with (I say sarcastically. But they really do come to love her and vice versa. Even though they’re sometimes shit at being parents, and Arya kind of shows it). 

Like, she’s some orphan that they meet after some case. I imagine the “Death Note version of Cersei(?)” is some political leader somewhere, and killed Arya’s father who was a threat to her. But L and Light were actually beginning to suspect Cersei of foul play a long time ago. So they finally bring her in for questioning--and Arya with her, who’s Cersei’s “ward”--and Arya’s all like, “I don’t like Cersei.” She didn’t buy the Stockholm-Syndrome thing the woman was trying to do with her for a second. 

Light and L then decide they like this child. 

L may even get the idea to have Arya judge everyone’s character from now on, as she seems good at it. And Light and L grow attached to this kid, which is part of the reason why they decide to adopt her. But the real one? L: “I just think we’re in a rut, Light-kun. We don’t do anything new anymore. It’s very boring. Why don’t we try something new, like adopting a child?” Light: “We are not adopting a child just because we’re bored, Ryuzaki!” L gives him a look. Light: “...Okay. Maybe we’re adopting a child...”

I should probably mention that this is an AU where Light gave up the Death Note and being Kira (somewhat. Though part of him is biding his time, hoping he can get his perfect world back. And L knows this. Light remembers everything, because he has a microscopic piece of the Death Note in his watch). 

Light and L decided to not tell Arya that Light was Kira--as a whole, the world doesn’t know Light Yagami was Kira--but Arya eventually finds out. More on that later.

I feel Arya loves both parents pretty equally. But she may slllllllllllllllllightly prefer Light. Just because there are times that L isn’t understanding at all. He doesn’t get, for instance, why someone calling Ayra “horserace” hurt her feelings, because it’s kind of true. L is very much with the “never forget who you are, the rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor and it can never be used to hurt you” mentality of Tyrion Lannister.

Arya may even have a hard time gravitating around L, because he has a hard time talking. But so does Arya, somewhat. So perhaps they actually bond over that? -shrugs- 

But L is good at trying to cheer Arya up, at times, by silly things like sweets (even though he was once miffed at her for not liking lemon cake. But then was okay with her again for loving tea) and swivel chairs. He was also the one who wanted to buy her a pony... or a wolf (since Arya wanted one) And Light had to tell him “no”. 

And both L and Light are A-okay with Arya wanting to learn sword play and horseback riding. 

L also probably taught Arya capoeira. 

And eventually, Arya does help him with some of L’s cases, since she is pretty sharp (they’re more L’s cases than Light’s, since Light is sort of on “probation”). 

There were also times that Arya would come to L, worrying that Light was Kira--and he would just kind of look at her gravely--before Arya realized she maybe agreed with Kira.

L is the one who goes to most of the parent-teacher-conferences. Because one time, Arya got in trouble for punching a kid in the face. And Light said, “What? She absolutely should have punched that creep, and I’m glad she did. She should do it again.” 

Light’s probably the one who tries the hardest to give Arya a normal, happy lifestyle and everything she needs. 

He’s also the one who brushes her hair, when Arya refuses to do that. (Speaking of... there are definitely times when L admits privately to Light, “Light-kun, what were we thinking in adopting a girl? We know nothing about them.” And Light responds with, “For your information, I’m great with girls!”) He’s not. And he might even somewhat resent Arya being such a tomboy at first, but he gets over it. L, however, has always loved that Arya is that.

Light’s also probably the one who realizes that Arya isn’t misogynistic? Which is hilarious, because Light can certainly be that himself. With helpful gems like, “Arya, I don’t think you actually resent female things, like embroidering--or your female peers for being good at it--but rather yourself for being bad at it. So if you want... I can try and figure it out myself and teach you, I guess.” 

Also... one day when Light is reading Arya a story and she says, “They killed the slaves? They should have killed the slavers,” Light has never been more proud of her than in that moment.

Both Light and L are of the mind that if anyone ever tries to touch Arya, she should kill them dead. Light and L might actually wish that Light had kept the Death Note, so they could put in it anyone’s name who would ever harm Arya.

Eventually, Arya is separated from Light and L. Basically, it’s found out that L was “aiding and embedding Kira”, so there’s this whole coup. Some people even discover L’s identity for a crazy second (before L gets that under control again. And convinces the general public that Kira is dead, and they’re all just cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs). 

And in this chaos, the family is completely torn apart. Even Light and L are away from each other for a while (and this is what stars Arya’s “A Song of Ice and Fire” journey. More on that in a minute). 

L finds Light... and there may actually be some tension there for a while, because Light thinks that L should have found Arya over him. 

L: “I tried to find you both, Light!” Light: “But if you had to choose... you should have put more energy into finding her, because Arya’s a hopeless child, L! I’m not!”

So, Arya’s mayhap put into this “home” where children of Kira-worshippers are tortured (it’s the closest thing I can think of for Harenhal here). And she’s deeply traumatized and fucked up by it. She escapes, and commits her first kill to do so (as a nine-year-old, no less)... and gets a taste for it. 

Like A Song of Ice and Fire!Arya, she begins keeping a list of all the people she’s going to kill, and that’s the only thing that keeps her going. And like in A Song of Ice and Fire canon, she changes her name multiple times, pretends to be a boy for safer travel, etc. 

During all of this, Arya has to try and come to amends with Light being Kira (as she knows now). Death Note’s version of “The Hound”, I guess, kidnaps Arya eventually to try and ransom her back to her parents (after the friend she’d made, “Gendry”, leaves her). But that doesn’t happen when Arya, perhaps, murders the Hound to get away from his abuse?

Still not entirely knowing how she feels about the “Light having been Kira, and Light and L having lied to her about it” thing, Arya might purposefully stay away from them for a while and join the “House of Black and White” cult, that worships death... She then realizes that maybe she will drink that Kira Kool-aid.

L and Light finally find Arya after this her stay at the House of Black and White (they never gave up looking for her, and knew that she was alive because their girl is a survivor. So eventually, they probably just had to face the truth that she didn’t want to be found). And there are issues again, because Arya now knows that Light was Kira and tells him this and wishes he would be Kira again (and Light, has, like, never been happier). But L thinks he might leave both of them here... I haven’t quite figured how they work this out yet.

Maybe because while this Light is somewhat biding his time, and does still think the system is corrupt and shit, he also gave the Death Note up for a reason? Did he realize that just soullessly killing everyone wouldn’t solve everything? And is her fearful that Arya is romanticizing death so much? And the deaths of some “innocent people”, even? Like this one guard, who didn’t know what he was there for, that she killed to get out of that first torture house? There’s probably some moment where Light is honest and says what being Kira almost cost him, and then tells Arya to not be like him. And then she isn’t.

L is upset by how damaged Arya now is, of course. And that he let it happen. “I can’t believe our daughter is nine and already a murderer--and that she enjoys it--...but she only did what she had to do to survive. And I am glad she found a way to survive.” 

Light: “You have to admit that you seem to be attracted to murderers, and vice versa. Maybe it’s only natural that this happened... And you have to realize that she got her affinity for changing names now from you, right?”

Some other things just off the top of my head: Light and L don’t think Gendry is good enough for Arya (until he makes her a sword? Then they sort of get it). Before then, they at least got her crush on Jaqen--if murder apparently interested her, as it would an honorable Wammy’s kid--but who was this Gendry fellow? And what kind of name was Gendry, anyway?

Sachiko loves Arya, because of course she would. Soichiro is somewhat afraid of what a child of Light and L will be like (he knows that his son was Kira), but is choosing to be hopeful and put all of his eggs into one basket, anyway. Sayu and Arya don’t get along that well (probably because of the tomboy and girly-girl thing. But they do try to be civil). And Matsuda is constantly thinking Arya’s going to be Kira 2.0, because he doesn’t want to be blindsided/betrayed again, but doesn’t say anything... But L, Light, and Arya all know Matsuda fears her, and probably laugh about it after their dinners together.

Though a part of L wants Arya to follow the “family business” and become a detective, he’s also open to any of her dreams. Arya decides she wants to travel some. That maybe she’ll be the first person to figure out what’s up with the Bermuda Triangle, and he thinks that that’s a beautiful thing. And he can’t say anything about her potentially wanting to risk her life to do it, because he risks his life for his line of work all the time, too. But eventually Arya does come home, and does probably become a detective like her parents.

The three probably have a lot of fun family outings, like to bakeries for one thing. And maybe Alaska?  L is from Britain, so he’s used to the cold. And I headcanon that this Arya likes the cold, even without being from Winterfell. So one time they visit there to look at wolves or something... and enjoy not having to pay taxes (even though L doesn’t even have to worry about it. Because he’s so rich) while they’re there... This was not Light’s favorite trip, but they still got a lot of cute pictures together, with wool coats and stuff. IDK.

Edit: So, in the books, there’s this scene where Arya is put in a dress and Gendry just bursts out laughing. Because it isn’t her. That scene probably still happens. And Light and L are probably there, too, and also laugh (maybe it’s a moment where Light and L finally get the Gendry thing), because they all know it isn’t her.

Edit 2: I forgot to mention that even though Arya is a quiet introvert, somewhat (like L). She’s also very charismatic (people always love her) and a good leader (like Light).

Edit 3: Arya totally gets to the point where she can beat Light and L in fights, of course... and most people.

#long post #lawlight #I've just gone nuts. ignore me

[fuckallthegood0nesweretaken]

The Dove and Her Hound - CH. TwentySeven

Title: Swear It

Words: 1,677

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Sorry for the late update! I’ve been looking for jobs (even though there aren’t any) and trying to remain sane while locked up in my house with my entire family. I’ve also been trying to write more things to give y’all more content. I’m going to make a whole different post about that, so go give it a look! Enjoy the chapter! 

Taglist:  @tonbluemchen @affection-rabbit @art-flirt @10morgan10 @thatting @iwontdance-dontaskme @simsvetements

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Sandor Masterlist

Game of Thrones Masterlist

Masterlist

~~~~~~~

“Half are gone,” Greyworm said as he took some markers off of the war map.

 “The Northmen as well,” Jon said. Yhon Royce grabbed some as well as a member of the Dothraki.

 “And the Golden Company has arrived in King’s Landing.” Varys put a marker down. “Courtesy of the Greyjoy Fleet.”

 “The balance is growing even,” you mused.

 “We will rip her out. Root and stem,” Daenerys said, eyes straightforward.

“The objective here is to remove Cersei from King’s Landing without destroying the city.” Tyrion looked up at Daenerys and all she did was throw daggers with her eyes.

 “Thankfully, she’s losing allies every day. Yara Greyjoy has retaken the Iron Islands in the name of her Queen, Daenerys of House Targaryen. The new Prince of Dorne has also pledged his support.”

 “It won’t matter how many Lords or Houses turn against her. As long as she sits on the Iron Throne, she can call herself Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”

 “So you’re saying that we need the Capital,” you said.

 “Yes.”

 “I’ve seen the people of King’s Landing rebel against their King when they were hungry. And that was before Winter began. Give them the opportunity and they will cast Cersei aside in favor of you,” Tyrion said. You could tell that he didn’t want the people to become collateral damage. He wanted as little death and destruction as possible.

 “So we surround the city. If the Iron Fleet tries to ferry in more food, we’ll burn them with the dragons,” Jon said.

 “And if the Lannisters or the Golden Company decide to attack, we’ll defeat them on the field,” you chimed in. “Cersei is our only enemy and once the people see that, it’s all over for her.”

 It was silent for a moment as Dany mulled over the options. You knew that she wanted to go all out and randomly attack the Capital, but she knew that doing that would cause more harm than good.

 “Alright,” she said.

 “Many of the men we have are exhausted and wounded,” Sansa said. “They’ll fight better if they have the time to rest and heal.”

 “How long do you suggest?” Daenerys asked her.

 “I can’t say for certain. Not without talking to the officers.”

 “I have come to help you and your people at great cost to mine and me. Now is the time to pay back and you want to postpone.” Daenerys posed it like a question but by the severity of her tone it was a statement.

 “It’s not just our people. It’s yours too,” you said, trying to diffuse the tension. “They’re not ready to fight again so soon. All of them.”

 “The longer I leave my enemies alone, the stronger they become.”

 You sighed internally at the two hot-headed girls and rubbed your stomach absentmindedly, ignoring the conversation in front of you. You didn’t even really know why you were at the meeting in the first place. It wasn’t like you were going to fight and you technically weren’t a Stark anymore. You grimaced at that thought and started to lean on the table. In a flash, Varys was beside you.

 “Are you alright, milady?” He said quietly.

 “Yes, thank you. The baby was just kicking.”

 “Do you need a chair, Lady Stark?” Daenerys asked you. You looked up and saw everyone’s eyes were on you.

 “Yes. That would be helpful.” Daenerys gestured to Greyworm and he dutifully fetched a chair for you.

 “Thank you,” you said to him. He nodded in response and retook his place by the Queen. The conversation continued and you tried to pay attention.

 “Jon and Ser Davos will ride down the Kingsroad with the Northern troops along with the bulk of the remaining Dothraki and Unsullied. A smaller group of us will ride to White Harbor and sail from there to Dragonstone, with our Queen and her dragons accompanying us from above.” Tyrion paused for a second. “Ser Jaime has decided to stay here, as a guest of the Lady of Winterfell.”

 “We have won the Great War,” Daenerys said. “Now we will win the Last War.”

 She looked around the room and when no one said anything, walked out the door. Everyone else followed until it was only the Starks left. Jon started to leave as well, but Arya cut him off at the door.

 “We need a word.”

 ---

 “You understand they we’d all be dead if it she wasn’t here,” Jon said. “We’d be corpses marching down to King’s Landing.”

 “Arya’s the one who killed the Night King!” Sansa said.

 “Her men gave their lives for Winterfell—“

 “And we will never forget them,” you said. “That doesn’t mean that I want to bend the knee to someone who can’t even respect me.”

 “I swore myself and the North to her cause.”

 “I respect that,” Arya voiced.

 “You respect it?”

 “We needed her. Her army and her dragons. You did the right thing. And we’re doing the right thing telling you that we don’t trust your Queen.”

 “You don’t know her.”

 “I do. And I still don’t trust her,” you said.

 “We don’t know her. We never will. She’s not one of us,” Arya said.

 “If you only trust the people you grew up around then you won’t make allies!”

 “That’s alright. I don’t need many allies.”

 “Arya—“

 “We’re family. The five of us. The last of the Starks.”

 “I’ve never been a Stark,” Jon said after a moment.

 “You are. You’re just as much Ned Stark’s child as any of us,” Sansa said.

 “You’re my brother. Not a half-brother or bastard brother.” Arya stepped forward.

 “You’re our brother,” you said softly, putting your hand on his arm. Jon looked at the four of you and placed his hand on yours. He looked at Bran with a torn look on his face. You could see that he was fighting something inside of him and you got slightly confused. It only escalated when Bran spoke.

 “It’s your choice,” Bran said. You and your sisters looked at Bran then back to Jon. Jon was nodding and it seemed as though he had come to a decision.

 “I need to tell you something,” Jon said. “But you have to swear that you’ll never tell another soul.”

 “What is it?” Arya asked.

 “You have to swear before I tell you.”

 “How can I promise to keep a secret before I even know what it is?” Sansa said.

 “Because we’re family. Swear it. Please.”

 “I swear it,” you said. The two youngest swore as well.

 “Tell them,” Jon said to Bran. The three of you turned to Bran and he just looked at you for a moment.

 “Jon isn’t Jon Snow. He is Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. He was born in Dorne where our father, his uncle, took him before he could be killed by the late King Robert.”

 Your eyes were wide and you looked up to Jon.

 “So this means that you have a claim to the Iron Throne,” you whispered.

 “Yes, but I do not want it.”

 “I know that. Have you told Daenerys?” The way Jon flinched told you what you needed to know.

 “How did she take it?” Sansa asked.

 “She was definitely not thrilled. She thinks that I want the throne, and no matter what I say it won’t leave her mind.”

 “Fuck,” you muttered.

 “And I take it she is the reason why we can’t breathe a word of this?” Arya said.

 “I wasn’t even supposed to tell the four of you. Especially not you.”

 “Because if we know then the knowledge is in powerful hands,” Sansa mused.

 “Yes.”

 “So what are we going to do?” You asked.

 “We are going to do as our Queen says and you are not allowed to breathe a word of this to anyone.”

 ---

 It had been a few days since you and your siblings had that talk in the Godswood. You mostly kept to yourself and if you were around someone, it was Sansa or the Maester. The Maester had told you that in a few days he was going to put you on bedrest for the rest of your pregnancy. You weren’t looking forward to that so you tried to do whatever you could before that happened.

 You had also moved rooms to be closer to Sansa and to get out of the place you once shared with Sandor. All of your things had been moved by someone else and you were reading by the fire when there was a knock on your door.

 “Come in,” you called, looking up from your book.

 The door opened and Arya walked in.

 “Arya! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 “I just wanted to see you before I left,” she said.

 “You’re leaving?” Your eyes widened. “You’re not going to fight, are you?”

 “I’m going to be the one to kill Cersei.”

 “Arya, love, don’t be too hasty. Bad things come to those who go looking for death. And I have a bad feeling about this battle. I do not think that Daenerys is going to keep her promise and spare the people of King’s Landing.” You struggled out of your chair and Arya was by your side quickly.

 “Don’t push yourself, [y/n],” Arya said. “If you worry too much it will put stress on the baby.”

 “How can I not worry when my sister is going off to a slaughter?” There were tears in your eyes and Arya brushed them away.

 “How about this. If it gets too much and things start going too much out of hand, I will turn around and come straight back home. Okay?”

 “Okay,” you sniffled. “I’ve already lost Sandor again. I can’t bear to lose you too.”

 Arya’s eyes hardened just the slightest bit but you didn’t notice. She gathered you into a hug and rubbed your back gently.

 “You won’t lose me.” You sniffed again and squeezed Arya as tightly as you possibly could.

 “You swear it?”

 “I swear it.”

#sandor clegane x reader #sandor x reader #the hound x reader #game of thrones x reader #got x reader #x reader #xreader #reader insert #Sandor Clegane #Arya Stark #Jon Snow #Sansa Stark #game of thrones #got #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #got fanfiction #got fanfic #sandor clegane fanfiction #sandor clegane fanfic #The Hound #the hound fanfiction #the hound fanfic

[ladycatofwinterfell]

A new marriage and an old one, pt3

Summary: Robb is getting married and Catelyn have been married for many years. This is a happy story about the Starks (mostly Ned and Cat, but also the others) that takes place in a world where AGoT never happened and they’re all living happily in Winterfell. 

Rating: I’d say mature, but message me if it should be changed.

English is not my first language, so I apologize if there’s any spelling or grammar mistakes. I hope you enjoy it :)

~*~

How was Catelyn going to ever pray in her sept again without thinking of that? Thanks to Ned, she didn’t believe it was possible. But it had felt good, so so good. And it still occupied her mind hours later even though they had only been there for a couple of minutes. She didn't have time to be distracted but she found herself thinking back on her moment with Ned in the sept over and over again. Tonight was so far away, she just wanted to get to it immediately. She was a patient woman usually, but with all that was going on it was so nice to just relax into Ned’s touch every once in a while. It was such a sweet feeling to let him take care of her in every way imaginable and just forget about all the things that screamed to be done.

She was currently trying to get the seating to go together. And it was giving her a headache straight from the deepest of the seven hells. The Boltons didn’t go very well with any of the houses with lands next to them, there had been conflict there, to say the least. It had involved a few angry letters and meetings about the fact that Roose Bolton had a very hard time with keeping his hunting on his lands. But maybe she could place them close to the Dustins. There had been no conflict there that Catelyn was aware of. But maybe she was wrong and the whole feast would fall because of it. All she knew was that she didn’t want the Dustins close to herself. Barbrey Dustin seemed to dislike Catelyn fiercely for some unknown reason, and she wasn’t very fond of Ned either. And the Reeds of the Neck rarely showed up at Winterfell, but now they were coming for the wedding of their liege lord’s eldest son. They went well with everyone, didn't they? Or had there been some conflicts with the Flints of Flint’s Finger about men disappearing in the swamp? She had a feeling of that Ned had mentioned it to her some time ago while they were getting ready for bed. Had they solved that with good tones or had it ended badly? Well, it was wiser to not place them next to each other, she didn't want to risk anything. Fights could end with injured and dead men and she wanted no such things to happen in her hall, she wanted no further conflict between any houses in the north. 

She sat like that for what at least felt like hours. With the list of everyone who had said that they would attend and a drawing of all the tables in the Great Hall in front of her. Slowly she crossed names off the list and filled the tables with them and every once in a while she had to start over with a table because she had forgotten something or someone, or because she had placed someone too close or too far away from the high table. And when she finally looked down at the finished seating plan she realized that she had forgotten herself, Ned, and the Tyrells, because she had forgotten that Robb and Margaery would have the high table all to themselves, as was tradition. Gods, her little Robb was getting married. He would have a wife soon, would become a father and have a little family of his own. Time went too fast, they were all slipping from her fingers before her eyes. Maybe it was greedy to ask the gods, Ned’s or hers, for another child, but she wanted one last child that was hers before her children started having children. She would be a grandmother soon if the gods blessed Robb and Margaery with a child. She had thought of it often since Margaery and her family arrived at. Winterfell. That there would be children running around around the castle that would call her “Grandmother” instead of “Mother”. The thought made her both very happy and sad. She was getting old.

And that was not what she was supposed to be thinking about.

She sighed deeply and rested her head in her hands, closing her eyes. Her head was pounding. How could seating be so hard when she had done it a hundred times before? And why did she even bother? Everyone would start moving around and changing seats the moment all the courses had been served. As soon as the dancing started all she had planned would fall apart anyway. But it had to be done, because her eldest son was getting married and it had to be perfect. And she had to make sure all of the more important guests fit inside the Great Hall. There would be fires and food outside for the free riders and men that had came with their lords, but the more important men had to be inside the hall.

“My lady, is everything alright?”

She raised her head from her hands and saw that Maester Luwin had entered the room. She had been too deep in her thoughts and feelings to notice. Her immediate answer to his question was “No, everything is not okay. I have a headache, I can’t get the seating together and my children are growing up too fast”, but that was not what she said.

“Yes, Maester. Everything is alright, I’m just trying to get the seating together” Catelyn said and looked down at the papers before her. “It’s harder than one would think it is.”

She, Ned and the Tyrells had to be closest to the high table, so she would have to move everyone back a little. But then the people at the end of the hall wouldn’t fit inside. Maybe if she squeezed them together a little everyone would fit inside. But then they would practically sit in each other’s laps. She decided that maybe they would think that it was worth it to attend the wedding feast of the eldest son of Eddard and Catelyn Stark. Or they could always go outside, she had no doubts about that the celebrations wouldn’t be big outside the Great Hall too.

“Do you need my help, my lady?” Luwin asked. “Or do you want me to send for anyone?”

“There’s no need” she said and frowned. “Or wait. Send for Sansa, Arya, and Lady Margaery. I will have need of them.”

The Maester bowed before he left her with her struggles again. She tried to get it together, tried to make it work. And every now and then she suddenly remembered something that forced her to make a drastic changing to the seating. Wedding planning really was a lot, she would be exhausted by the time it was all over. She almost longed for it. It would be good to have the amount of work go back to normal.

“Mother.”

Arya poked her head into the room.

“Maester Luwin said you wanted to see me.”

“Yes” Catelyn said. “Have a seat, sweetling.” 

She smiled at the thought of getting company in her misery. Company that would help her put an end to it. So that she could bury herself in the next one by getting started on other things that really needed to be done.

“You’re doing seating, aren’t you?” Arya said as she sat down in a chair on the other side of the desk. “Robb said you would be doing that today.”

“I’m tempted to let him do the seating himself” Catelyn said with another sigh. “It’s his wedding, not mine.”

“Nah, it’s been some time since you married.”

“Twenty years today.”

Sansa also came in through the open door, immediately joining the conversation.

“Did you like Father’s gift?” she asked. “I helped him with it.”

“It was lovely” Catelyn assured her.

It had been a wonderful gift. She had nothing for Ned, which made her feel pretty bad. She had not even remembered that it was their wedding day. Maybe it was actually her who had to make something up to him that night.

“It was, wasn’t it? The colors were so pretty!”

“They really were. But that was not why I called you here, I need help with the seating. It has to be done today, preferably before supper.”

The fact that there was a possibility of that they would have to keep on with the seating after supper made Catelyn extremely tired. She just wanted to eat in peace and then retire to her chambers with Ned. But that wouldn’t happen, since she just couldn’t get the damn seating to work out. When Jon married his Alys she would not volunteer to do more than she absolutely had to. Haha, who was she trying to fool? She would absolutely take on more work than she could actually handle and then she would curse herself for not remembering how stressed she had been when she was planning Robb’s wedding.

“Mother, I can see in your eyes that you really want this to be done before supper. So could you please hand me the paper so that we can have a look?” Arya said and stretched out a hand.

Catelyn gave her daughter the paper and leaned back in her chair while Sansa and Arya looked at it. She sat quiet and just listened to them talk with low voices about what you could do with the damn seating. All her daughters were absolutely brilliant girls and she fully trusted that they would do a good job with whatever task she gave them.

“You wanted to see me, Lady Stark?”

Margaery looked into the room.

“Oh yes, come inside” Catelyn said and smiled. “We are trying to fix the seating, would you mind giving us a hand?”

“Not at all, I would love to help!”

Thank the gods. For a moment Catelyn considered to leave the girls to it and take a short break. But did she have time for that? Absolutely not, she needed to look over all the resources and shippings to Winterfell so that the kitchens had everything they needed for all the courses that would be served. But she would rather discuss with Sansa, Arya and Margaery than sit in silence and just read through page upon page of documentations of the latest wagons that had arrived to the castle.

And so the four women sat huddled around the desk and tried again and again to get everything together. The sun started to sink down underneath the horizon outside the windows and Catelyn was forced to light candles and get a fire burning in the hearth so that they would be able to see anything. 

“Almost all these people are new to me” Margaery said. “It’s hard.”

“None of them are new to me and I’ve been here for hours. It doesn’t make it any easier” Catelyn said.

Maybe it actually would have been easier if she hadn’t been married to the liege lord of all those people. She would’t have had to take so much into consideration because she would have known nothing. What wouldn’t she have given to just know nothing of all the squabbles among the northern lords?

“But if we do it this way” Sansa said.

“Nope, that won’t work” Arya said immediately. “Where are the Umbers? How could you even forget them? You are betrothed to the Smalljon!”

“You know, Mother, now I understand why you look like you are thrice widowed” Sansa sighed.

Catelyn had been aware of that she probably looked as tired as she felt, but honestly, was it really that bad? Maybe it was. And on top of looking like hew was thrice widowed, she was getting really hungry. She had not eaten anything since she broke her fast and there had been many hours since that. 

“I’m glad you get it, sweetling” she said. 

All four of them looked up at the same time when it knocked on the door and Ned came in. 

“Could you come outside with me, Cat? I need a word.”

She wondered what he had to say. Had anything happened? He didn’t look worried. But he didn’t look very happy either. He just seemed tired. How lovely that they were in the same mood.

“Of course” she said and rose form her chair. “You can continue, girls, I’ll be right back.”

They walked out of the solar together and Ned closed the door behind her. And without saying a word he pulled her into an embrace. She laid her arms around his waist and leaned against him as he buried his face in her hair. 

“I’m tired” he said.

“Me too. This really is a lot.”

“Jon will have to wait.”

“Preferably until I’m dead and buried” she said and smiled. “That way I won’t have to do anything.”

He chuckled softly at that. Then they were quiet again. She closed her eyes and just took in the feeling of his arms around her. His heat and the smell of him, it was so calming. She had really needed that. 

“Was that what you wanted to say?” she asked after a few minutes.

“No, but I needed to have you close for just a moment” Ned said. “What I actually came to say is that supper is being served now. You should come down to the Great Hall to eat.”

That meant that they were not going to be done before supper. How absolutely terrific. Catelyn was ready to cry at that point.

“We’ll be down soon” she said. “So keep my chair empty.”

“No, you should come now. You need a break” Ned said softly.

“I have already had a break today. And it was an excellent break, but I don’t have time for one more. And if I finish it now I will be free after supper.”

She looked up at him. 

“I seem to recall that we had plans for tonight. We won’t be able to carry out with those if I have to sit up with that half the night because I took too many breaks.”

He sighed and kissed her forehead.

“Okay” he said. “But promise that if it takes too long you will take a break and come down and get some food. You need to eat, my love.”

“I won’t be long” she said. “I promise.”

She gave him a quick kiss before she turned to go back inside. But just as she was about to lay her hand on the door handle the door flew open and Arya almost danced out.

“We did it, Mother!” she shouted. “We solved the seating!”

Oh thank the gods, old and new. Finally it was over. Catelyn could go down and have supper! She was free from the seating.

Sansa and Margaery also appeared in the doorway behind Arya, both of them were shining. And an overwhelming feeling of pride took over Catelyn. Those were her girls, in one way or another. And they had actually thought out a way to make it all work. Oh how she loved them for it.

“You’re brilliant, all three of you” Catelyn smiled. “I knew you would do it!”

Well, if she was going to be completely honest, she had had her moments of doubt about that they would actually managed to finish the task. But those were all washed away, now she was purely happy and proud of them.

“Ned” she said and turned to him once more. “Please take me down to have some supper. I’m starving.”

~*~

”To twenty more years” Ned said and raised his cup to her.

”I’m a greedy woman, I want at least thirty” Catelyn replied and raised her own cup.

”To thirty more years then.”

”To thirty more years” she smiled and drank.

The Great Hall was so filled with people that you could almost believe that it was the day of the wedding. It wasn’t, so many people had arrived with the Tyrells. And northern lords and their parties also started to arrive, it was just a little more than two weeks left after all. Winterfell and the winter town were both filled with more people than ever. Catelyn, who was in her usual chair next to Ned’s high seat, could see each and every person in the hall. She had some of the Tyrell family to her right, the rest was on Ned’s left.

”I didn’t mean to listen, but I overheard your conversation” Olenna Tyrell said. ”I want to congratulate you on your twenty years.”

”Thank you, my lady” Catelyn said and smiled again.

”Standing out with a man for that long is an accomplishment” Olenna continued.

Catelyn glanced at Ned for a second. He was in conversation with Mace Tyrell, Olenna’s son.

“It’s hard sometimes, but worth it in the end.”

Ned could absolutely drive her to madness every now and then, but she loved him. He was a loving and good husband to her, and a loving and good father to their children. He was a good, but just lord to his people. She couldn't have asked for a better person to share her life with. He had helped her into her second home and loved her even when she felt like she was unlovable.

Olenna was just about to reply when someone grabbed Catelyn’s arm. She looked down and saw little Hoster. He was a copy of Ned, but with her own eyes and her nose. The Stark face and hair with the Tully blue eyes. He and Lyanna were the only one of their children who had taken after something from both her and Ned.

”What is it, Hoster?” she asked.

”Lyanna hit me” the little boy whined. ”With a stick.”

”How did she get a stick in here?” Catelyn mumbled to herself and looked out over the hall in order to find Lyanna.

Her handmaiden should have been watching her. And prevented her from bringing a stick to supper. It was hard to find such a small girl in such a large crowd, but Catelyn managed to catch sight of her youngest daughter’s fiery red hair between two tables.

”Excuse me for a moment, Lady Olenna” Catelyn said.

She took Hoster’s little hand in hers and walked around the high table to go down and get Lyanna. It was clearly bedtime for her and her twin brother.

”Lyanna!” she said sharply. ”What are you doing with that stick?”

The little girl smiled up at her. She too had Ned’s long face, but she had Catelyn’s red hair and blue eyes. She was an extremely charming girl at the age of six, she knew exactly how to get what she wanted and how to get out of anything. She owned the heart of every person in Winterfell. Especially Ned’s, she could just smile and he would immediately forget everything about how she had misbehaved. It was as though her little face smiling at him made the Lord of Winterfell completely blind.

The thing was that she was not always like that, she did everything she was told when she wanted. She could behave like a perfect little lady when she wanted to. Some days she was impeccable and some days she was a nightmare. It depended solely on what she felt that day. But no matter which, she was always the most charming little thing to have ever walked around in the world. Catelyn couldn’t deny that.

”It’s a sword, Mother!” she explained cheerfully. ”I’m protecting people from evil dragons!”

”And why did you hit your brother?” Catelyn asked.

”He said I’ll never be a real dragonslayer. So I hit him, because he is an evil dragon.”

”Dragons doesn’t exist anymore. Maester Luwin says so” Hoster sneered from Catelyn’s side. ”You’re stupid for thinking they’re still real.”

Her little twin pair was usually very tight, they were together at all times. When they started getting cranky with each other she knew it was bedtime, and by the morning they would be partners in mischief again.

”Well, you look like a dragon!” Lyanna pouted. ”Ugly!”

”Hush, both of you” she told them. ”It appears you’ve both done something bad, I want you to apologize to each other.”

Lyanna and Hoster remained silent. They could be stubborn as ox, it was very hard to get them to do something they absolutely didn’t want to do.

”I want you to apologize to each other” she repeated, a little more strictly the second time. ”And I want you to mean it.”

”I’m sorry” Lyanna mumbled and looked down at the ground. ”I shouldn’t have hit you.”

”And I’m sorry for saying that you’re stupid” Hoster almost whispered.

”Will you go to bed as friends?” Catelyn asked.

”Yes” Lyanna said and smiled at Hoster.

Hoster smiled back at her. It never took long for them to make up, fortunately.

Catelyn waved for their handmaidens to come and put them to bed. Then she returned to the high table.

”Your youngest daughter was slaying dragons instead of eating her supper” she informed Ned when she sat down again.

As she had suspected, Ned only laughed. Lyanna could have killed someone and Ned still would have waved it off.

”She has a wild imagination, our daughter” he chuckled.

”She’s your daughter for as long as she pretends her brother is a dragon and hits him with sticks.”

”She’s more like you.”

”When have you ever seen me hit my brother with a stick?” Catelyn asked, slightly offended.

You wouldn’t have found her in the Great Hall of Riverrun with a stick. If she had been to hit her brother with a stick, she would have done it where no one would be able to see her so that there were no witnesses. You had to do it with finesse, you didn’t want to get caught.

Ned took her hand and looked her in the eye.

”I mean she has the charm that I lack. You know your way with speech, my love.”

Ned was excellent with speech when he had to. He could have seduced the queen if he set his mind on it. Catelyn knew that better than anyone.

”You two could stab me in my sleep and I would forgive you as I bled out and died” Ned continued.

Catelyn laughed.

”Your northerners wouldn’t forgive us though. I suspect that my head would be separated from my body before you had time to die.”

”I don’t want to find out if you’re right” Ned said.

”Well, I’m not about to stab you. And I don’t think Lyanna will stab you” she told him. 

”So I have no reason to worry when I go to bed tonight?”

Catelyn smiled as she leaned over towards Ned so that no one would hear what she said.

”Not if you make up for leaving me yesterday” she whispered.

”You won’t even remember it when I’m done with you.”

”Is that a promise?” she asked teasingly.

He kissed her on the lips then. There, in full view of everyone in the hall. She was almost ashamed of how much she liked that. She belonged to him, and he would have everyone know that.

”It is.”

~*~

#catelyn tully #catelyn stark #ned stark #eddard stark #ned x cat #cat x ned #eddard x catelyn #sansa stark #arya stark #margaery tyrell #robb x margaery #house stark #asoiaf #game of thrones #house tyrell #olenna tyrell #lady olenna #mace tyrell #a new marriage and an old one

[bigdaddib]

Promise pt.2

This isn’t going in the direction I was expecting lol, but we’re sticking with it for now ig. 

At seventeen years old, Arya was terrified for Gendry to go to college, so she was forcing promises on him left and right.

 “Promise not to forget about me,”

 “I promise,”

 “Promise to come home every weekend,”

 “I’m still living at home Arya,”

 “Promise to come to my house every weekend then,”

 “That’s less than I come over now,”

 “You know what I mean,”

 “I promise,”

 “Promise not to like anyone better than me,”

 “I’ve made that promise four times now,”

 “Promise…” she wanted to make him promise not to fall in love with anyone, but she knew there were still some things she couldn’t ask him. “Promise that you’ll shower more often,”

 “Hey,” Gendry pointed a finger at her. “I shower more than you do and we both know it,”

  They made plans at the beginning of the year to spend the summer together, drive across the country or something like that. They didn’t really have any of it planned out, but they were leaving in four days. Gendry was helping her pack. “I’ll need a swimsuit, right?”

 Gendry shrugged, “It’s a possibility, for sure,”

 She threw a bikini in her bag. “Books?”

 “Are you gonna read them?”

 Arya shrugged, “The radio could stop working or something. I could read to you,”

 Gendry snorted and so did Arya.

 “Are we going anywhere cold?”

 “I’d prefer not to,” he answered.

 “So, no blankets?”

 “No, bring lots of blankets,”

 When they were done she pushed her four, fully packed bags to the side and shoved them off the bed so she could sit next to Gendry. They immediately leaned back into the bed with her head on his shoulder. He smelt nice, like any hot boy would smell, only better because he wasn’t just any hot boy, he was Gendry.

 Arya was angry the first time she realized he was more attractive then everybody else. She hadn’t realized it for a while actually, he’d always had the same face to her. But then she noticed everyone else noticing him and Sansa’s friend Jeyne Poole asked Arya if she thought he would go out with her, so Arya decided to take a closer look. It was the worst decision she’d ever made.

 She was perfectly content not noticing his broad shoulders or his high cheek bones or straight jawline. She didn’t need to see how he towered at least a foot over every other boy in school, in the world really. Or the way his light eyes glowed bright against his dark hair. It didn’t do her any good to notice these things, because while he got hot, she got not.

 She was still called Arya Horseface, she was still shorter than everyone she knew and it seemed no amount of kickboxing, archery, ballet, and numerous different haircuts weren’t going to change that. And before Gendry got hot, it didn’t matter that she wasn’t hot, she never even thought about it. But now that he was, and now that she noticed, and now that she couldn’t stop noticing, it meant he would never keep his promise. 

 Of course, she knew that promise had been shaky since the beginning, and she sort of knew he was not under any real obligation to keep that promise. But still…did he remember? Did he intend to keep it... maybe over the summer? When it would be just them traveling who knows where?

 “Jeyne Pool has a crush on you, you know,” she decided to tell him. It hadn’t been long since Jeyne had asked her about Gendry, it hadn’t been long since Arya noticed Gendry’s physical attributes, hadn’t been long since her life spiraled out of control. Only eight months, really, but somehow it felt like she’s spent her whole life feeling this way.

 “A lot of people have a crush on me,” Gendry grinned and Arya nudged him. How long had tons of people had crushes on him? Has he acted on any of those crushes? Was it too late to hold up his end of the promise? She liked to think he didn’t, or if he did she’d like to think he’d tell her about it. As far as she knew, there wasn’t anything she didn’t know about Gendry. As far as she knew, she either saw everything that went on in his life first hand or he told her about it, as far as she knew he was still a virgin. But maybe that was naïve of her.

 “A boy had a crush on me once you know,” she told him like it was a big deal.

 “Oh?” he turned to look at her. She didn’t look back; he was too close and his eyes were too blue.

 “Mmmhmm, his name was Micah and he followed me around everyday during recess,” She told him honestly. Micah and her had a good thing going, actually, before he moved away.

 “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” he said.

 Arya nodded, “I know, they’re making a movie about it,”

 Gendry chuckled, moved onto his side and looked at her with his head propped on his hand. “Its gonna be your senior year, how does that make you feel?”

 Arya rolled her eyes, “It’s just another year,” and she wasn’t looking forward to it without Gendry. She knew how to talk to people and she wasn’t lacking in friends necessarily, but Gendry is what she looked forward to everyday, and now that he wouldn’t be there it seemed rather dull. He wouldn’t walk her to school or skip out on class to eat lunch with her. Now she had to make small talk with her lesser friends and wait until it was time to get home.

 “I bet, when I’m not there, you’ll find out a lot more people have crushes on you,” he told her.

 Arya frowned as she finally looked up at him. It was a mistake, as she knew it would be. With him so close she could feel his breathe over her cheeks and most definitely the firmness of his torso against her arm. In the position they were in now, she could almost imagine what it would be like to reach out and touch the scruff of his face, something she’s obviously already felt before but this would be different. This would be different because it would be a sort of lead up. She would start with feeling the scruff, then she would slip her hand into his rather fluffy hair (hair which he had her to thank for after making him promise not to ever buzz it off again) and then she wouldn’t have to do much else because he would already be leaning towards her, and then…

 Arya frowned at him, “What?”

 Gendry shrugged, “I think guys were just scared to ask you out cause we’re always with each other. Either that or they think you’re a lesbian,”

 Arya snorted. “Right. And why is it all these girls aren’t too afraid to ask you out, hmm?”

 “They probably think you’re a lesbian,”

 “I grew out my short hair, okay?” Arya huffed. He’s been making lesbian jokes at her ever since she had buzzed all her hair off. Actually, Gendry had been the one to physically do it while Jon supervised. There was a lot of screaming and a lot of laughing.

 “The memory will never grow out,”

 The night before they were supposed to leave Arya dragged Gendry to a huge party that was in celebration of the seniors leaving. Gendry hadn’t been to a single party throughout his high school career and Arya felt an obligation to change that. She wanted to take at least one of his virginities.

 “Its so…crowded,” he mumbled, crossing his arms.

 Arya nodded, “How observant you are.”

 She could hear him roll his eyes. “How long are you gonna make me stay?” he asked.

 Arya shrugged, “As long as it takes.”

 “As long as what takes?”

 “As long as it takes for you to get so drunk you’ll never want to leave,” She gave him a deep dimpled smile, one he did not return as he looked down at her.

 “How are we supposed to drive across the country tomorrow if I have a hangover?”

 “Oh please, we weren’t gonna leave until around five anyway. Come on, I’ll get you started,” she took his arm by the elbow, it felt too sensitive and revealing to take him by the hand now that she’s noticed him. One touch and he’ll know she was still thinking about that promise she forced him into.

 “You’re not gonna leave me alone, are you?” 

 Arya liked to say she wouldn’t, but if there was a challenge tempting enough, or if she got tipsy enough, she might end up wandering around. She wouldn’t intend to, she might even think she’s only a few steps away from Gendry, but she would do it none the less. “I’ll try not to,” she knew she could keep that promise at least.

 “Yeah, that helps,” his voice gave away that it didn’t.

 Arya supervised his next two shots and forced him into a third. She was sitting on the counter so she could look him in the eyes for intimidation purposes. Also, his eyes were pretty, and she was getting drunk with him. So, the closer she was to him, the better.

 “Here,” she gave him a rum and coke to sip on for the next hour or so. He was a big guy, but he hardly drank because he was afraid to turn out like his father, so she didn’t exactly know how high his tolerance would be. It did seem like his blinking was starting to slow down, but that might be her own intoxication reflecting off of him.

 “What do you want me drunk for anyway?” he asked with a smile, placing a hand on her thigh. She hadn’t realized he was standing right in between her legs until then. Kind of crazy, thirty minutes ago she was too nervous to hold his hand.

 “So I can take advantage of you,” she smirked into her own cup. Gendry leaned forward, resting his head on her should and the hand that was previously on her thigh moved up to her waist. “I see its working?”

 “Well, I’ve got a promise to keep, don’t I?”

 Arya stilled. She wasn’t drunk enough to handle this new topic with anything related to cool nonchalant-ness. This was the very subject she’s been thinking about bringing up for the past six months, after forgetting about it entirely for nearly seven years. Arya cleared her throat, “Do you?”

 She felt his lips smile against her neck. “After what you put me through to make that promise? You’re gonna take it all back now?”

 She bit her lip, trying to really think through this conversation, to be rational and coy and sneaky and…whatever else there was to be because it was right there. If she played her cards right, she could take it. She could have him, really have him, and all she needed to do was say the right words.

 What words were those?

 “I’m not sure, what promise are you talking about again? We’ve made so many,” she made a point to wrap her hands around his shoulders, link her ankles around his hips. His grip on her waist tightened.

 “Well,” he cleared his throat. “There was the one about you always being my favorite…”

 Arya hummed, “That was a good one.”

 “There was the one forcing me not to be into Sansa?”

 “One of my best.”

 “And there was…” he tilted his head so his nose was pressed to the side of her neck, the hand at her waist moving to her lower back. “I think there was one where you made me promise to never watch Desperate Housewives without you.”

 “Oh yes. I am holding you to that promise,” Arya told him firmly, allowing a hand to get lost in his black hair.

 “Arya?”

 “Hmmm?”

 “I think I’m drunk.”

 Arya laughed, “I think you are too.”

 “It’s embarrassing that it happened so fast.”

 “It’s cute.”

 “Don’t leave me the rest of the night?” it sounded more like a plea than the first time he asked.

 Arya was now determined to not let herself get distracted. What could be more distracting than Gendry? The man that was standing between her legs with his face cuddled into her neck? The man who had been turning beautiful and smart right under her nose and who she had just started to notice. How could she not have seen him? Was she too late? Or was there simply never going to be a right time?

 Later on, it was Gendry who did the leaving. Arya barely allowed it and only did because it was Jon he was leaving her for. She would’ve stuck around them too, if Sansa hadn’t pulled her away.

 “How did you get Gendry back at a party?” she asked, peaking at him.

 Arya curled her lip, “Get him back? He’s been to one before?” she didn’t like this. She didn’t like Sansa knowing something about Gendry that Arya didn’t. In fact, she hated it.

 “Oh please, as if you haven’t heard. The homecoming party? At Ygritte’s?”

 Arya’s frowned deepened. “I wasn’t here for homecoming, I was at Bravoos for dance camp,” she had been gone two months and Gendry had face timed and called her everyday for those two months. He had made a point to, since he was incredibly angry about her going in the first place.

 “It’s just going to be you and Jaquen, alone, in the middle of the woods? Are you fucking crazy Arya?!”

  “Yes, me and Jaquen and my entire dance studio. Also, several other dancer studios and teachers, alone in the woods, with bunk beds and like...Well water. Not the sexiest of places.”

  “If Christian camp can get sexy, so can ballet camp.”

  “Christian camp can get sexy?”

  “Arya! That guys a creep, I don't like the way he keeps...looking at you,”

  “Gendry! He’s my dance teacher, it’s his literal job to look at me,”

  “Promise me you won’t go.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. His pinky was already out and shoved right into her face. 

  “You’re not serious,” Arya blinked at him, unamused. 

  “I’ve never been more serious about anything.”

  “Not even when you made me promise to always eat lunch with you?”

  “You’re not taking this seriously,”

  “No, and I’m not promising that either. We already paid the place. You’re being stupid.”

  The conversation lasted longer and they both only got angrier so Arya didn’t want to think too hard about right now. She was trying to remain as calm as possible. He would’ve told her about a party, why wouldn’t he? 

 Sansa put a hand to her head, “That’s right! You weren’t there! Well, it was crazy. Nobody expected him to act out so wildly. I don’t think he expected it either, he was so mad at anyone who brought it up afterwards, and everyone brought it up,” she giggled into her drink.

 Arya hated that she had to ask this, “What’d he do?”

 “Oh Gods, what didn’t he do,” she said after her drink. “Skinny dipping, table dancing, body shots…he even got caught fucking some girl on the front lawn,” she smiled at Arya, “You would’ve been so proud,” patting Arya’s shoulder, Sansa walked away.

“There you are,” Gendry found Arya on the roof, carrying a more than half empty bottle of vodka. “You weren’t supposed to leave me, especially not to be a loser sitting alone on the roof,” he reached for a drink, but Arya took a swig instead of handing it to him.

 She shouldn’t be mad. That’s what she kept telling herself. She shouldn’t be mad. It was a ridiculous promise he was forced to make by a ridiculous child. It didn’t matter that he broke it, it didn’t matter that he had even made that promise to begin with, it was fake from the beginning. He was just agreeing to get her off his back.

 But why wouldn’t he tell her about it? Why would he hint at it tonight? That’s what hurt, the secrets. She’d never kept a secret from him. Never. But he kept this from her, and this was big. If all she was was his best friend, fine, she could take it, but best friends knew about each other’s sex lives. They knew about their party lives. To not tell her was…to do it at all was…

 She shouldn’t be mad.

 “You okay?” he asked, scooting closer.

 Her lips pressed together to not yell at him. To not say, “No! You’re not a virgin anymore and you didn’t tell me! Why wouldn’t you tell me?! Why would you keep me wondering about this stupid promise when you’ve broken it almost a year ago now? What else have you lied about? Was that not even your first time?! Does Jon know about all of this?! Rob? Sansa knows! How could Sansa know more about you than I do?! I’m supposed to be your favorite! You promised I would always be your favorite! Or were you lying about that too?!”

 It was all at the tip of her tongue, ready to be placed into the world, because that’s what she did. She said what was on her mind, she was honest with him.

 Or, at least she had been up until about eight months ago. Now she was just as bad as he was. She was lying every time he touched her, looked at her, every time she had trouble looking back at him. She wasn’t telling him the complete truth anymore, because she had hope that maybe he wasn’t either. But she was hoping he was harboring some different kind of secrets, secrets that matched hers. Not secrets like these, secrets that crushed hers into nothing but secrets. Into nothing but silly girlish fantasies. She never wanted those, she never wanted fantasies and pining, she wanted archery and dance. She wanted to travel the world, she didn’t want to waste precious dreams and ambitions on something so…so…so Sansa. But she did, and she couldn’t look down on Sansa anymore, that would be stupid, because she was stupid just like her now.

 “Arya,” he nudged her shoulder, she still hadn’t answered him.

 “I never expected you to keep that promise you know,” she wound up spitting at him.  

 He blinked, “Sorry?”

 “I don’t know why you felt like you had to keep it a secret…why you needed to lie about it, but I never expected you to keep that fucking promise, okay? It was stupid, I was ten, you really think I’ve just been sitting around waiting for you to take my virginity?”

 Gendry brought a hand to his forehead, rubbing it. “Arya…if this is about that one party—”

 “The one you never told me about. I just heard about it from Sansa.”

 “Everything about that party was a fucking a mistake, Arya. It was…one of the scariest nights of my life and I never even wanted to think about—”

 “That promise was a fucking mistake, this whole thing is a fucking mistake. I’m done just,” she clenched the bottle tightly in her hand, “Clinging onto you. I’m done worrying one day you’ll wake up and realize you don’t need me anymore, because that day came a long time ago and I’ve just been so…” her teeth ground together.

 “What are you talking about?!” he bent forward to try and catch her eye but she turned away. She didn’t want to see his eyes, she knew the second she did she would start crying. “Of course I need you, Arry, you’re my best fri—”

 “Because I force myself on you!” Arya burst. “I force you to make and keep promises you have no interest in, I force you not to move on from me, and I see now that that’s…that’s stupid! You’re gonna do what you wanna do with who you wanna do it with, and maybe you’ll tell me about it and maybe you won’t and I’m stupid for thinking—”

 “I didn’t tell you because I was so fucking ashamed! Not because I-I…I was acting just like my dad, Arya! I had unlocked him and I didn’t want you to look at me that way!”

 “If I’m your best friend, you would’ve come to me about that. I would’ve come to you,” now she did look at him, just so he would know how hurt she was, so she could rub it in to his stupid beautiful face. “Did you go to Jon?” she asked.

Gendry opened his mouth, closed it, looked at his lap.

 “I’m gonna stay home for the summer,” Arya said after a while. “You can do whatever you want,” she left him the vodka bottle before leaving. 

Listen...angst is my favorite. I didn’t start this with that intention but..uhh...

#Gendry Waters #gendrya #gendryaau #gendrya ff #Arya Stark #arya x gendry #gendryafluff #gendrya fanfiction #gendryaseries #pt2 #friends to lovers

[turtle-paced]

Appreciation Post: Catelyn Stark

Catelyn had never liked this godswood…

This is how we meet Catelyn Stark, our second recurring PoV character in all of ASoIaF, and the first thing GRRM shows us about her is that she still feels an outsider in her own home. The second thing he shows us is that Catelyn’s willing to push past her discomfort for the husband she loves.

Catelyn is a grown woman when the story begins, and more importantly, she’s a happy woman. Her life is not perfect, but she lives a materially comfortable life with a family she adores. She has the respect and trust of her husband and his advisors. As we discover later, Catelyn was also unquestionably her father’s favourite child, and her famous uncle doesn’t just love her, but holds her in high regard. The patriarchal norms of her society affect her, but save for Jon Snow’s presence in Winterfell at Ned’s insistence, Catelyn doesn’t feel the bite of said norms all that much. 

Her arc is one of ASoIaF’s most painful and drawn-out tragedies: Catelyn goes from happy, respected, in control, loving and loved, and experiences the loss of almost her entire family, realising in the process how little she was able to do to prevent it. When last we see her in AFFC, she’s a reanimated corpse driven mostly by the need to hurt the people who hurt her, consumed by rage and hate to the point where she’s willing to hang the innocent Podrick and forces loyal Brienne to a terrible choice.

For the first three books, Catelyn does sterling duty as one of the smartest and best-informed PoV characters. Right from the word go we see that the force of her intellect is such that the men around her have to admit it - some quite happily, some a little less so.

"Until this morning, no living man had ever seen a direwolf either," Catelyn reminded him.

"I ought to know better than to argue with a Tully," he said with a rueful smile. 

- Catelyn I, AGoT

All his life Tyrion had prided himself on his cunning, the only gift the gods had seen fit to give him, and yet this seven-times-damned she-wolf Catelyn Stark had outwitted him at every turn.

- Tyrion IV, AGoT

"A woman can rule as wisely as a man," Catelyn said.

"The right woman can," her uncle said with a sideways glance. "Make no mistake, Cat. Lysa is not you."

- Catelyn VI, AGoT

"King Robb is warring, my lord," Catelyn replied with icy courtesy, "not playing at tourney."

Renly grinned. "Go softly, Lord Randyll, I fear you're overmatched." 

- Catelyn II, ACoK

And it’s not hard to see why people think she’s smart. It’s because she is. She handily outwits Tyrion at the Inn at the Crossroads. Once Stannis tips her off to the fact of Cersei and Jaime’s affair, Catelyn puts the rest of it together, including the attempt on Bran’s life, in a matter of hours. She argues that Robb should not send Theon to the Iron Islands. She’s fast enough to put the pieces of the Red Wedding together, tragically only seconds ahead of the crossbow bolts, too late to do anything about as per her tragic role.

Her two-chapter stay in Renly’s camp is one of the highlight of ACoK, wherein she points out another central tragedy of the series:

"Look at them. They're young and strong, full of life and laughter. And lust, aye, more lust than they know what to do with. There will be many a bastard bred this night, I promise you. Why pity?"

"Because it will not last," Catelyn answered, sadly. "Because they are the knights of summer, and winter is coming."

- Catelyn II, ACoK

Which is followed the next chapter by ACoK’s mission statement:

"This is folly," Catelyn said sharply. "Lord Tywin sits at Harrenhal with twenty thousand swords. The remnants of the Kingslayer's army have regrouped at the Golden Tooth, another Lannister host gathers beneath the shadow of Casterly Rock, and Cersei and her son hold King's Landing and your precious Iron Throne. You each name yourself king, yet the kingdom bleeds, and no one lifts a sword to defend it but my son."

- Catelyn III, ACoK

And an epic burn showing the hollowness of Renly Baratheon:

"While he lives," Renly admitted. "Though it's a fool's law, wouldn't you agree? Why the oldest son, and not the best-fitted? The crown will suit me, as it never suited Robert and would not suit Stannis. I have it in me to be a great king, strong yet generous, clever, just, diligent, loyal to my friends and terrible to my enemies, yet capable of forgiveness, patient—"

"—humble?" Catelyn supplied.

- Catelyn III, ACoK

This capacity to get to the heart of the matter is also crucial to pointing out the effects of the society she lives in, as Catelyn starts to see how her life and actions have been constrained by the gender role she’s expected to play. She has some of the best internal monologue (and a real highlight of GRRM’s writing in this series) on this point:

She was no stranger to waiting, after all. Her men had always made her wait. "Watch for me, little cat," her father would always tell her, when he rode off to court or fair or battle. And she would, standing patiently on the battlements of Riverrun as the waters of the Red Fork and the Tumblestone flowed by. He did not always come when he said he would, and days would ofttimes pass as Catelyn stood her vigil, peering out between crenels and through arrow loops until she caught a glimpse of Lord Hoster on his old brown gelding, trotting along the river-shore toward the landing. "Did you watch for me?" he'd ask when he bent to hug her. "Did you, little cat?"

Brandon Stark had bid her wait as well. "I shall not be long, my lady," he had vowed. "We will be wed on my return." Yet when the day came at last, it was his brother Eddard who stood beside her in the sept.

Ned had lingered scarcely a fortnight with his new bride before he too had ridden off to war with promises on his lips. At least he had left her with more than words; he had given her a son. Nine moons had waxed and waned, and Robb had been born in Riverrun while his father still warred in the south. She had brought him forth in blood and pain, not knowing whether Ned would ever see him. Her son. He had been so small…

And now it was for Robb that she waited…for Robb, and for Jaime Lannister, the gilded knight who men said had never learned to wait at all.

- Catelyn X, AGoT

And some of the most pointed questions:

He pushed a fall of hair out of his eyes and gave a shake of the head. "I might have been able to trade the Kingslayer for Father, but…”

“…but not for the girls?" Her voice was icy quiet. "Girls are not important enough, are they?"

- Catelyn I, ACoK

Catelyn does not let Robb nor the reader forget this point. Her PoV is instrumental in keeping the personal losses to the Stark family in view, hence another of her excellent moments in AGoT. Which I’m going to quote in its entirely, because this is an appreciation post.

Catelyn waited until they had quieted. "My lords," she said then, "Lord Eddard was your liege, but I shared his bed and bore his children. Do you think I love him any less than you?" Her voice almost broke with her grief, but Catelyn took a long breath and steadied herself. "Robb, if that sword could bring him back, I should never let you sheathe it until Ned stood at my side once more … but he is gone, and a hundred Whispering Woods will not change that. Ned is gone, and Daryn Hornwood, and Lord Karstark's valiant sons, and many other good men besides, and none of them will return to us. Must we have more deaths still?"

[…]

"You are the gentle sex," said Lord Karstark, with the lines of grief fresh on his face. "A man has a need for vengeance."

"Give me Cersei Lannister, Lord Karstark, and you would see how gentle a woman can be," Catelyn replied. "Perhaps I do not understand tactics and strategy … but I understand futility. We went to war when Lannister armies were ravaging the riverlands, and Ned was a prisoner, falsely accused of treason. We fought to defend ourselves, and to win my lord's freedom.

"Well, the one is done, and the other forever beyond our reach. I will mourn for Ned until the end of my days, but I must think of the living. I want my daughters back, and the queen holds them still. If I must trade our four Lannisters for their two Starks, I will call that a bargain and thank the gods. I want you safe, Robb, ruling at Winterfell from your father's seat. I want you to live your life, to kiss a girl and wed a woman and father a son. I want to write an end to this. I want to go home, my lords, and weep for my husband."

- Catelyn XI, AGoT

As a political proposal, this may be fatally flawed, but it is nevertheless a beautiful expression of Catelyn’s priorities and an emotional portrait of the human-scale effects of Ned’s death.

This speech, and Catelyn’s question to Robb regarding Sansa and Arya, also help show some of the most impressive character writing with Catelyn. Catelyn’s great motivation is to protect her family. Her love for her family is palpable. It’s one of her greatest virtues.

It’s also her greatest flaw.

Catelyn is clever and brave and willing to do just about anything to protect her family. When she makes her proposal for peace, she fails to account for the effects on families not her own. When she frees Jaime, she’s looking to protect Sansa and Arya alone. And most controversially, her drive to protect her children is a major contributing factor in her treatment of Jon Snow (however you characterise this treatment). 

While this might be a character flaw, and a bloody serious one, it’s also fantastic character writing. Also exellent worldbuilding, since it goes to show both how Jon suffers due to social class and the effects of the patriarchy on Catelyn. It unifies her virtues and her vices, allowing her to be clever and sympathetic - and also horribly wrong in ways that seriously hurt others, on occasion. I strongly believe that Catelyn is a more impressive character for the fact that GRRM has given her that truly serious flaw. Catelyn is allowed to be a human being with grievances and blind spots rather than a saintly mother figure.

Catelyn is a complete character, capable and complex and challenging. Whether or not you like her, whether or not you think she took the best actions, there’s a lot to appreciate in her.

#ASoIaF #valyrianscrolls #catelyn stark

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

HEART DON’T FAIL ME NOW

gendry + arya + anastasia au // ao3

Gendrya Appreciation Week, Day 2: AU

Girl gets a family.

Boy gets rich

And fairytale gets a spin

How can we fail with everything to win?

 Conman and princess get their wish

Fairytale comes true

Funny, one small part I never knew

With everything to win

The only thing I lose is

 You.

- Everything to Win, Anastasia The Musical

 *****

Never, in his twenty-seven years of life and twenty-one of making a living as a thief, a swindler and a trickster on the streets of Leningrad, Gendry Waters had a worse job than teaching one infuriatingly stubborn orphan girl how to be a princess.

If only Arry did not look like the absolute older mirror copy of Princess Arya Stark, he would’ve long ago vetoed the whole idea and, with or without Davos approval, left the girl somewhere near the closest bar so she could find a job better suited for her fiery temper and foul mouth. But, to his eternal despair, she is every bit as pale-skinned, grey-eyed and dark-haired like The Lost Princess and the fact that she doesn’t seem to remember a single thing from childhood only makes the whole con easier.

She is also desperate to find out anything about her past and willing to believe in the story they made up about her with a heart-wrenching determination.

Truth to be told, Gendry can understand that. He too, comes from nothing. Maybe if he was not sure of that, if he didn’t remember his mother’s clients kicking him for laughs as if he was a street rat, he would also entertain the thought of having a loving family once.  But he does remember and he has no doubt at all that he is a rat indeed. A clever, Russian rat, but a rat still.

See, that is the whole problem about Arry – it is all about this idea of a loving family for her. She doesn’t care if they were Starks or simple factory workers. She just needs to belong somewhere, it is clear as a day.

And that makes it impossible for Gendry to hate her, even when she is bickering with him all days long and getting on his last nerve every time she opens her mouth.  

Which means all the damn time.

 ***

 He found her in Winter Palace; a small figure curled on the damaged wood of the ballroom’s floor, tracing the ruined tapestry depicting the former royal family with her fingertips.

In the cold winter light getting through the shattered windows, she looked like something straight out of a dream. Dressed in mismatched, baggy clothes to keep warm and with an uneven cut hair underneath man’s hat, she might have been just another poor girl, whoring herself to keep starvation at bay. She was probably just looking for shelter from the cold.  

No need to pay attention to her at all, I should just leave her be and look through the second floor like I planned to –

Her gasp could be heard even across the room when Gendry stepped on the particularly squeaky floorboard.

She jumped to her feet immediately, quick as a flash.

‘’Don’t be afraid.’’ He said, but the cold shock spread through his body, making him freeze in place.

Because the girl was standing tall in front of the tapestry and the stray sunlight framed her, caressed her features so lovingly – her cheekbones and her chin, her eyes, and her brow – that something sweet and long gone resurfaced suddenly in his memory. Buried underneath the years-long past like a smell of his mother’s hair and the screams of people butchered on the streets.

On the wall behind her, there was a damaged depiction of a small girl in silver furs, Dark-haired, long-faced, gray-eyed.

And she was staring at him silently. Dark-haired, long-faced.

Fire burning in her grey eyes.

 ***

 ‘’ One more time. You learned how to ride horses at three.’’

‘’And my father got me my own when I was six.’’

‘’Correct. The horse’s name was –‘’

‘’Nymeria.’’

 ‘’I don’t believe we told her that, did we?’’

 ***

 ‘’Robb. Sansa. Bran. Rickon. Robb. Sansa. Bran. Rickon. It doesn’t seem right.’’ She whines, wriggling in her seat.

The train slowly rolls through snowy hills of Poland towards France and Gendry wants to do nothing else but savor the triumph of getting out of godforsaken Russia – oh, excuse him, Soviet Union – but he could not do that with Arry’s constant chirping. Sometimes, he wonders if the perspective of Princess Sansa offering him the girl’s weight in gold is a worthy reward for all his trouble. She’s a small thing, after all.

With a pained groan, he covers his eyes with his arm.

‘’Would you shut up for a second?’’

He can hear Davos’ warning huff and then Arry’s voice, dripping with honey.

‘’Gendry, can I ask you something?’’

He wants to say no, but he has pushed his luck enough already. You need to control your temper, my boy, Davos said. We need to keep her happy.

‘’Yes?’’

‘’Do you truly believe I’m a princess?’’

No.

He drops his arm and nods his head slowly. Arry sits with her back straight as a rod and her chin up, the way they taught her. Gendry cannot help but think that this posture suits her.

‘’Yes, I do.’’

She bites on her lip slightly and then one of her eyebrows slowly raises up in a perfect arch.

‘’Well, is it a way to speak to a princess then?’’ she says coolly, dignified, and Davos doesn’t manage to reach for his tissue fast enough to mask his laughter under fake coughing.

Somehow, it’s hard to scowl at her after that.

 ***

 ‘’What’s so incorrect about that?’’ he asks her later, in the dead of the night, when only Davos’ snoring interrupts the silence in their car.

‘’Huh?’’

‘’No, huh. Pardon.’’

‘’Fine. Pardon?’’

‘’When you were repeating- ‘’ Princess Arya’s ‘’-your siblings’ names. You said that there’s something incorrect about them.’’

‘’Oh, that.’’ She stays silent for a moment and he turns his head slightly to glance at her. In the darkness he can only see the outline of her body, its hills and valleys under the blanket. He can paint the rest in his mind; Arry in a white nightdress, her feet bare and hair loose. Warm and pink.  

He shivers slightly and pulls his own blanket higher under his chin.

‘’I just think there is something missing. Or rather someone. There should be one more person, before Robb.’’

Gendry’s heart loses its rhythm in his chest.

‘’Have you read about this person somewhere?’’ he asks cautiously, but he somehow already know what her answer will be.

‘’No. All the books you gave me name five royal children. Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon.’’

He’s glad for the darkness, cause just as it shields her from him, it also shields him from her. So she cannot see how he’s staring at the ceiling, internal battle tearing him apart.

‘’There was.. there was one more Stark child.’’

She sits up so abruptly that she bumps her head against the top bunk of her bed and groans.

‘’What? If so, why didn’t you-‘’

‘’His name was Jon. He was King Ned’s bastard son, that’s why he’s not in the books. Not worth mentioning.’’ Gendry’s voice drops to a whisper. ‘’He was also not very popular at the court. There is not much to know about him, anyway. They sent him to the military before the Revolution and he died at war.’’

Gendry can hear her sharp inhale. He doesn’t dare to look in her direction.

‘’Well, it was stupid of you not to mention him anyway. What if Princess Sansa asked me about her – about our forth brother and I wouldn’t know what she’s talking about?’’

Gendry knows Arry is right. He doesn’t know himself why he told Davos not to inform her about the existence of the Bastard Prince.

(Only, it’s a complete lie, because he does know. Because Princess Arya was rumored to have a lot of affection for Jon, going as far as calling him her favorite brother. Out of all her siblings, he would be probably the most difficult for her to forget. Which meant- which could mean that-)

‘’Jon.’’ She flops back on the mattress. ‘’Jon. Robb. Sansa. Bran. Rickon.’’

Gendry remains silent, hands clenched into fists.

‘’Yes.’’ She sighs sleepily against her pillow. ‘’Yes, now it sounds right.’’

 ***

 He is sure he has suffered through the worst of it; through history and etiquette lessons, through her terrible table manners and sailor’s mouth, through getting out of Russia and getting to Paris.

He thinks that he and Davos actually managed to transform dirty orphan Arry into a well-educated, bright and charming Princess Arya, or at least, a very good imitation of her. She doesn’t keep her elbows on the table anymore, can recite the whole family tree of the Starks three centuries back and is an excellent cyvasse player.

And he… enjoys her company. Somehow.

So the dancing lesson takes him by a complete surprise.

‘’Come on, lad, pull her closer! I could’ve fit another couple in-between you.’’ Davos barks and he sounds far too gleeful for Gendry’s taste. ‘’Her Majesty is doing splendidly. Maybe she should be the one instructing you, huh?’’

Arry laughs at that, gracefully spinning underneath Gendry’s arm. Her blue dress swirls around her bare calves when she turns.

It’s really pretty. It looked good on the hanger in the shop when he was picking it out, but now that she’s wearing it – now that she’s wearing it, it has completely transformed into something truly beautiful.

‘’One, two, three. One, two, three.’’ Davos counts, but it sounds distant somehow.

All Gendry can really hear is his own heartbeat and the slide of silk against her skin; all he can really feel is the smell of her hair and her perfume, light and fresh. Where did she get it?

Left and right and backward and forward, they waltz to the music from a borrowed gramophone in their hotel room. Arry avoids looking down at her feet by staring right into his eyes as instructed, and it somehow makes him feel both hot and cold, uncomfortable and hungry.

After two rounds, they no longer step on each other’s feet and simply go through the motions, silently moving around each other. Closer. And closer.

She’s so confident now, no longer skittish like a deer. There is not a single ounce of shyness on her face. Only curiosity… curiosity and a dash of awe. 

One, two, three, one, two, three, left and right and backward and forward and spin.

His fingers itch to caress her blushed cheeks, to brush stray strands of hair from her forehead.

One, two, three, one, two, three, left and right and backward and forward and spin.

His hand fits in the dip of her waist perfectly.

This smell… light and fresh. Nothing with flowers. More like a wind – like pines, like snow –

There is no snow in Paris, it’s ridiculous, pull yourself together Gendry, for fuck’s sake

 ‘’I think Davos went to sleep.’’ Arya whispers and Gendry abruptly stops moving, making her lose her balance and bump against his chest, their legs tangling together.

He glances at the empty armchair above her head. You old fox

‘’Yeah. It’s – it’s probably late. I think we practiced enough.’’  He lets out through clenched teeth, looking down at her still in the circle of his arms.

Arry bites on her lip and there’s this overwhelming desire in Gendry, wild and dazzling, to just reach out and pull it from in-between her teeth, to just press his mouth to her instead, to make her moan and gasp the way she sometimes does in her sleep and I am forced to listen and do nothing, nothing at all, cause this is just a con, and she is just a girl, and none of this is even real.

‘’Goodnight, Your Majesty.’’ He drops her hands and leaves, leaves as fast as he can.

 ***

 ‘’You’re playing a dangerous game, lad.’’

‘’I don’t know what you mean.’’

‘’Oh, young hearts. They want what they want, truly.’’

‘’Fuck off and let me sleep, won’t you?’’

 ***

 Gendry finds her on a bridge next to the hotel. She’s staring at the Seine lazily passing down below,  humming to herself this strange lullaby, as she always seems to when she’s feeling uncertain.  

Far away, long ago, burning dim as an ember

‘’Stressed?‘’ he asks, softly, so as not to startle her.

But maybe she knows his steps just as well as he knows hers by now, because, when she turns around to face him, she doesn’t look surprised at all.

 It fits her, all of this. The beautiful dresses they obtained through Countess Shireen. Hair bows and pearls. Fine silk stockings.

Her hair reaches past shoulder blades now, curling at the ends a bit. Even when they are messed by a wind, she’s still every inch an image of a princess. Every inch of her perfect and enchanting.

‘’A bit. ‘’ Arry admits. ‘’Tomorrow, I might get everything I’ve ever wanted. But I can also find out that this-‘’ she gestures down at the pink skirt of her gown and her shiny shoes. ‘’-is just a lie. That I’m a lie. I can break this woman’s heart.’’

Gendry takes a few steps to stand next to her, leaning on the railing by her side.

‘’I just wish I could feel like Princess Arya. She’s still somehow a foreign person to me.’’  She raises her eyes to the outline of the Eiffel Tower at the horizon, harsh black lines against sky bleeding with a setting sun.

And the resolve that Gendry kept inside his heart for fifteen long years breaks.

‘’I saw her, once. When I was twelve.’’ 

 Arry whips her head towards him, mouth opened in shock, but Gendry’s firmly staring down at the dark river, lost in the memories.

‘’There was a parade in Saint Petersburg. It was hot, especially in a crowd – I think it must’ve been June or July. Royal family rode in a carriage, surrounded by guards, but I was tall for my age, and quick; I ran along, hoping for a glimpse of them. There were rumors that they wear clothes made of gold.’’ He chuckles quietly. ‘’And then there was some commotion on the street, so the carriage stopped. And I saw her.’’

Her, not you. His hands grip railing tighter, but Arry doesn’t seem to notice.

‘’How did she look like?’’ she asks, her voice shaking like a leaf on a wind.

‘’She was wriggling in her seat like a worm. I think Princess Sansa was scolding her, but she didn’t seem to listen. She kept on waving to the people and, for just a second, our eyes met.’’

He remembers it so well. Ever since he Arry appeared in his life, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that day, how it made him feel everything at once; how such an insignificant thing turned his world upside down.

This image of a little princess, so joyful and so vibrant, has kept him warm through many long nights. And the thought that such a bright light was snuffed out in a bloody basement so easily, made him the person he is now. There is nothing beautiful in this world, not a single thing he can protect or preserve. Nothing.   

Or, so he thought. Until another pair of gleaming eyes gazed into his.

‘’She had – she had such beautiful eyes. Such happy eyes. I had never seen eyes like that before.’’

The silence falls between them for a moment, before Arry inhales deeply.

‘’A parade in June.’’ She says. ‘’In Saint Petersburg.’’

‘’That’s right.’’

‘’Crowded streets. ‘’ she closes her eyes. ‘’It was hot, not a cloud on the sky. I was riding with my family and everyone was cheering for us and Sansa kept on telling me to sit down, but I wanted to see better. I wanted to see all those people, to thank them for coming to see us.’’

Her skin turns honey-golden when the sun submerges into the Seine.

‘’Then the boy caught my eye. Tall and skinny. Dark-haired. He looked at me  with those pretty blue eyes…. and bowed.’’

Boom. The church bells ring.

Boom. His heart hammers in his chest.

Boom. Arya spins on her feet and looks at him, wide-eyed.

‘’I didn’t tell you that.’’ escapes from in-between his stiff lips.

‘’I know.’’ she takes his hands in hers, cool from the metal railing and trembling. ‘’I remember.’’

 Boom.

He drops to his knees.

 ***

 The worst thing is, he should be happy.

He should be happy, cause he is about to become filthy rich; no more sleeping on the streets, no more struggling, stealing, running away. He is in France and there is a whole wide world ahead of him. Their impossible, half-cooked plan actually worked and it seems like they somehow, by some insane miracle, actually did not con anyone at all.

They delivered Princess Arya to her sister. She finally had a place where she could belong. The family she dreamt about her whole life.

And for this good, good deed, Gendry is going to be rewarded with a pile of gold.

So, he should be fucking overjoyed.

‘’I don’t want it.’’ He says to Princess Arya’s butler. The man looks as if he did not understand Gendry’s Russian, so he repeats in French. ‘’I don’t want the money.’’

‘’But sir, Princess Sansa-‘’

‘’Please tell her that – that the joy of her sister is a big enough reward for me. I don’t want this money.’’

Arya, in the opera, in this night-sky-dress sparkling with diamonds and falling down her body like a waterfall. The line of her spine and her shoulder blades moving underneath her skin. The smell of her hair; pine and fresh snow.

Her happy grey eyes.

A silver tiara atop her head.

He wants nothing to do with the Starks, nothing at all.

 ***

 ‘’So, you didn’t take the money.’’

‘’I didn’t.’’

‘’Why?’’

How can you ask me this?

‘’I didn’t feel like taking them.’’

‘’That’s not an answer.’’

‘’Yes, it is.’’

‘’No, it isn’t!’’

‘’Yes, it is! Gods, Arya, can you, for once in your life, not make it difficult for me?’’

He doesn’t know what she’s doing here, standing in front of his hotel in the pouring rain and letting it soak her to the bone. He would offer her his umbrella or a coat, if he wasn’t so angry at her.

She has her sister now, what is she looking for here?

‘’I just want to know why you didn’t take the money.’’ She stubbornly repeats. Droplets slide down her cheeks like tears. ‘’Tell me that and I’ll let you go.’’

‘’Oh, and what’s stopping me know, Your Majesty? Did you bring your guards with you, ordering to stop me from leaving if you won’t get what you want from me?’’ he snarls and regrets it the moment the words drop in no man’s land between them.

Arya’s face breaks and she takes a step back as if he slapped her.

‘’You know I didn’t, Gendry.’’ She sounds awfully small, looks awfully small in a wet dress and with her hair plastered to her head and neck.

Desperation does ugly things with a person, Princess.

‘’I’m leaving Paris, Your Majesty. I wish you all the happiness.’’ He says stiffly and steps on the street, passing Arya with his suitcase in one hand and an umbrella in another.

‘’No.’’

He wants to weep. He knows her. How could he believe it would be so simple?

Arya has her arms wrapped around his waist, her face pressed to his back. He can feel shivers running through her body.

‘’Please, Gendry. Please. Tell me why.’’ She whispers and his blood boils in his veins, coloring the Paris red in front of his eyes.

‘’Because you are not a transaction to me!’’ he shouts desperately, turning around to face her. His hands grab her shoulders; the umbrella and the suitcase drop to the pavement and the cold rain viciously attack all exposed parts of his body. He cannot find it in himself to care about that, not even a bit. ‘’Because maybe it started as a con, but it isn’t and it’s – it’s you, Arya. It’s you and I cannot pretend anymore that I don’t care, because I do. I care so much. And you’re a princess and I’m just me and this can never work, and I-‘’

Her lips are cold and wet against his. He tastes salt on them; salt, pine, and snow.

His hands fit around her waist perfectly.

His stubborn, impossible princess, laughing, when she embraces him. 

 ***

 Dear Sansa,

I am so sorry for leaving so quickly after we reunited, but you know yourself I was never suited to be a princess. It seems that I have found myself a family even before I met you again. I cannot abandon him now.

Wish me luck! We’ll be in Paris together soon, I promise.

I hope you’ll understand. After all, you’ve always loved grand stories of romance.

Your little sister,

Arya.  

#gendrya #gendrya fanfiction #gendryaweek2020 #gendryaweek #gendrya week 2020 #gendrya week #gendrya fic

[ijustwant2write]

A Twisted Tale-Jon Snow x Baratheon!Reader

(GIF credit to @ladybingley)

Masterlist

Requested by @witch-of-letters

Summary: Throughout her life, (Y/N) has been intertwined with Jon Snow’s destiny. Ever since they first met as children, they were practically betrothed to one another, however it takes them years to realise this, and that means years of being apart and having their own stories before they meet again.

Characters: Jon Snow x Reader, Robb Stark x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Violence, gore, sadness, death, fluff

(A/N: Obviously there will be slight plot changes to the story line, time skips too and it’s a long one)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“(Y/N) Baratheon, will you marry me?” a young Jon Snow knelt in front of the princess, holding onto her hand. He only wished he had a ring to give her.

She giggled.“Yes, I will! When we are older though!”

He pouted, standing up again.“Why? That’s ages away!”

“Mother says that I am too young to marry, that we must be patient and wait.”

“But...but what if you don’t love me then? What if you love someone else?”

She boldly reached over and kissed his cheek, giggling again as the boy with pale skin blushed.“I won’t! I promise. And a princess must always keep her promise.”

“OK, I promise too! I can’t wait to marry you!”

Much time had passed since the sudden proposal,the innocence of it all fading away. The two lovers were now coming of age, both growing into their adult features and bombarded with rules that they must obey to uphold their reputation. However, this never strained on their love for one another, their promises still being kept. Ever since that day, (Y/N) had been told that she would stay and grow up in Winterfell alongside the Stark children; the young princess wasn’t sure why she had to be left behind, at first she thought it was because her family didn’t want her anymore. But before they separated, her father, King Robert, pulled her aside, affirming his love for her and that this was the best thing for her. Although she was young, she somehow understood what he meant, she could see the sadness in his eyes, the regret for leaving her here. She had pulled him in for a hug one last time, remembering his scratchy beard and plump body along with the kindness in his heart.

The Starks had been an amazing family to her. Catelyn had raised her to be an honest and wise woman, hoping that Sansa and Arya would take after (Y/N). Ned kept her safe and fed within Winterfell, and all in all, she had an amazing upbringing; not only that, but she had stayed with her love, Jon. Unfortunately, they soon learnt to hide it, knowing that a Baratheon could never be with a bastard, even if it was their dream to run away and be together, away from the watchful eyes from everyone else. So when (Y/N) saw Jon loading a horse with many bags and a sturdy saddle, exchanging a long hug with the eldest Stark boy, Robb, she started to doubt their future plans.

“Jon? What are you doing?” she asked, though she feared she already knew the answer.

He had hoped that she wouldn’t catch him. Yes, it was cruel to do it this way, but if Jon were to see her sad face just as he was about to now, he knew that he couldn’t leave for the Night’s Watch. Hesitantly he turned around, almost crumbling at the sight of her tear filled eyes. 

“My father has told me to leave for the Night’s Watch.” 

“W-what?” she was shocked by his answer.“Why would he do that? You haven’t done anything!”

“I’m a bastard, that’s a crime in itself.” he scoffed.

“So? What does that matter? And you didn’t choose to be a bastard!”

“(Y/N), please calm down. Remember you’re still a princess.”

“Were you going to tell me? Because it seems like you’re rushing off.”

Jon looked anywhere but her, not wanting to admit it.“I...I thought it would be better-”

“Better than telling me?!”

“I’m sorry. I just knew that if I saw you, it would make it harder to leave.”

Her breathing got shaky at that, feeling exactly the same. They couldn’t go against Ned’s orders, especially since he was now Hand of the King and travelling to see her father. As heartbreaking as it was, the lovers knew that their chances of being together were slim, but facing reality in the face was harder than they thought it would be.

“Jon, I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.” she cried.

Jon pulled them aside, hiding them from the public.“Please (Y/N), you know I wouldn’t go if I had a choice.”

“Wait, why don’t we just-just run away together? No one would know, they would think you were at the Wall! Or perhaps you died on the way there!”

“And what would they think if you disappeared?”

“I...I ran away to go home to my family, and....also died.”

“No one would believe it. And they would be after you as soon as you stepped one foot out of Winterfell.”

She dipped her head down, holding on tight as Jon embraced her.“Why do the Gods not want us together? What did we ever do to them?”

He chuckled.“That’s just how our fate was designed.”

“Well I’m going to change it.”

They stayed together for a few minutes longer, their last moments going by too quickly for their liking. Jon pulled away, only to bring (Y/N)’s face close to his as they shared a last kiss, one of the most passionate kisses they had ever felt. (Y/N) couldn’t seem to let go, Jon having to peel off her fingers. She followed him to his horse, resisting the urge to jump on him and never let go, no matter how mad she looked. They looked at one another, taking in their features before Jon spoke again.

“I love you (Y/N) Baratheon.”

“And I love you Jon Snow.”

He clicked his tongue, the horse starting the long journey to the Wall. Jon looked forward, gripping onto the reigns as he tried to stay on track, get out of Winterfell as soon as possible, and try to forget about his love; he knew that would never happen. (Y/N) stayed rooted to her spot, watching as he left Winterfell. She didn’t want to believe it, but she knew that she would never see Jon Snow again.

“(Y/N), come on, let’s get you inside.” Robb suddenly appeared beside her.

She hadn’t realised how much she was crying until he out an arm around her, gently pulling her away from her spot and into Winterfell.

He spoke again once they were inside.“It’ll be alright, it will all be alright.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” (Y/N) asked Robb, worried about their plans for the evening.“Shouldn’t Walder Frey be angry at us?”

“Angry? (Y/N), we were married months before we even arrived here.” Robb smiled at her.

“I know but...he seemed awfully happy for someone who didn’t get the deal they wanted.”

“Perhaps it is because of his age? He is too tired to deal with any conflict.”

“Robb, take this seriously.” she tried to not laugh, though it was impossible when he was smiling at her like that.

After Jon had left all those years ago, Robb and (Y/N)’s relationship grew stronger. They had always been close growing up, especially since they were close in age and their mature, kind personalities matched each others. But what really made them closer was the death of (Y/N)’s father, and Robb’s father soon after. They mourned together and fought back against Joffrey when he demanded that Robb bend the knee, along with an order for (Y/N) to be returned to Kings Landing. If King Robert had ordered it, she would be travelling home in no time, awaiting the overdue reunion with her beloved father; however, seeing as it was her side of the family that never bothered to even send a raven, she refused too, siding with Robb in this sudden war. And along with this, a marriage was arranged, and she may have been a Baratheon, but everyone had seen her as a Stark already for almost all of her life.

“You worry too much about other people’s feelings. Just enjoy this night, it is a wedding after all.” Robb said, watching as his wife brushed her hair.

He couldn’t help but stop to admire her. There was always a soft place in his heart for (Y/N). She was beautiful, intelligent and charismatic, the perfect princess. At first, he had been appalled when he caught her and Jon kissing in the shadows, baffled as to why she would be with a bastard. It angered him, especially since there had been talk between a reunion of the houses.As time went on, he began to understand more about love, and how you didn’t get to chose, it chose for you. He knew that marrying her was simply to help him in the war (to her at least) and that he wouldn’t receive any love back, though having the right to say (Y/N) was his wife was enough for him.

“Where is Greywind?” (Y/N) wondered, looking for the beast.

“They asked for him to be locked away, no animals at the ceremony.”

“Oh, poor thing, outside in the cold.”

“He is a wolf, he is supposed to live in the wild, in the cold.”

“Still, he is a domesticated direwolf.”

“(Y/N), stop these excuses and let us enjoy the night.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but be on edge all night, something didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was the sudden change in atmosphere. She had been in a war zone for months, spending restless nights in a tent and stuck with thousands of angry men during the day; now she was in a castle celebrating a wedding, food and drink galore. Although Robb tried to help her enjoy herself, she still couldn’t, expressing her concern to Catelyn.

“Do you feel ill?” Catelyn asked, seeming very intrigued.

“I’m not sure, I don’t know what to call this feeling.”

“Have you bled this months?”

(Y/N) stuttered as she answered.“Uh, n-not yet.”

Catelyn held her hand, a huge grin on her face.“Perhaps you have fallen pregnant!”

“M-maybe.”

“Don’t be scared child, this is a wonderful thing.”

“Yes, I think I may lie down now, it’s all a bit too much.”

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea. You go ahead, I’ll tell Robb for you.”

(Y/N) felt terrible for lying to her mother-in-law. Robb and (Y/N) had never even consummated the marriage, the only time they kissed was when they got married. No, she definitely wasn’t pregnant, this feeling was do with her gut instinct, though she couldn’t decipher what it was warning her about. As she hurried down the hall to the room, (Y/N) felt like someone was following her, but there was no one around, not that she could see anyway. Just as she turned a corner, she heard the patter of claws on the floor, like a dog was running towards her; not so much a dog but the direwolf Greywind.

“Greywind? What are you doing here?” she bent down to pet him, but the animal wasn’t wanting any of it, running ahead of her before looking back.

She knew that stance. He was on high alert and wanted her to follow him. Picking up her skirts, (Y/N) ran with the direwolf, wondering where all the guards had gone to. They were nearing the slaves quarters when muffled screaming erupted, both from inside the castle and out where Robb’s army was camped. Greywind immediately nudged (Y/N) to the slaves quarters, whining as he did so. (Y/N) walked in the opposite direction, though Greywind was adamant to go the other way. She knew he was doing this for her safety, he had sensed the sudden attack. Going with the direwolf, they continued running, ending up outside, where carnage had erupted; men were slaughtering each other, it was a battlefield. 

Her instincts kicked in, ducking behind barrels of wine whilst she analysed how to get out of this mess. Greywind stood his ground, looking out for anyone wanting to attack the queen in the North. (Y/N) screamed as body fell beside her, the sword fallen out of his hand. Grabbing it, she peeked out from her hiding spot, almost fainting there and then as she saw her husbands body parading around on a horse, a dogs head replaced his own, and Walder Frey’s men cheering and making fun of Robb. Tears fell fast down her cheeks, and at that moment, she really didn’t know what to do. They had mutilated her husband as if he wasn’t a person.

Greywind nudged her, and she followed where he was looking. There were horses left in the stable, not so many men were near there, thinking they had won. Greywind stormed ahead, leaping onto the remaining guards,tearing them apart with their teeth; (Y/N) ran as fast as she could after him, slicing down whoever got in her way. It all happened in a flash; one minute she was killing the men who had murdered her husband, the next she was riding a horse far away from the bloodshed, Greywind right beside her.

They had fled far away from the scene, it had been hours since the traumatic event and the sun was rising. (Y/N) slowed the horse, her and the two animals panting harshly. As she dismounted, her feet gave out underneath her. The direwolf was instantly by her side, nuzzling against her as she loudly sobbed, her wails echoing throughout the valley. Angrily throwing the sword, she hugged Greywind close to her, wishing that this was all a terrible nightmare. How had she got out of that so quickly and without a single scratch? Why did she survive but Robb didn’t? The glint of the sword in the sunlight caught her attention again, reminding her of when Robb taught her how to use one; it was essentially him that saved her. But the grieving didn’t last long as the sound of hooves got closer. Clumsily getting to her feet to mount the horse, (Y/N) stopped as she heard her title called out.

“My queen! My queen please wait!” 

It was one of their soldiers, blood smothered all over his face and armour. He was doubled over on the horse, and she helped him down. He clutched onto his arm, and was in an immense amount of pain.

“My queen, King Robb and Lady Catelyn...I’m sorry but...they’re dead.”

“Catelyn too?” she whispered.

“Yes, I’m sorry, we couldn’t do anything, we tried-”

“Shh, it’s alright, it wasn’t anyone’s fault but the Frey’s.” she seethed.

“You need to keep on running from here, they will search for you.”

“I...I don’t know where to go!”

“Head to the wall! Jon Snow is still there, I’m sure you could seek refuge there. Here, take these.”

He pulled a fur cloak from the horse and a bag with food along with water, handing them to her. Her heart broke from the kindness and thought he had put into this, he was dying yet he still thought of his queen before him.

“You are a brave man. Thank you for this.” she pulled herself together as she thanked him.

“Queen in the North, I will ride elsewhere to throw them off your track. Go now!”

(Y/N) rode for weeks, relieved that she had Greywind by her side. She was still in the smart dress that was now ruined with mud, blood and wet from snow as she went deeper North. She didn’t know who to trust, and truly thought she would die; whether it be from the cold, hunger, thirst or being killed, though did it matter at this point? Robb and Catelyn were dead, she didn’t know where the Stark sisters were, and she didn’t even know if she would make it to Castle Black. The one thing pushing her was the fact that she might see Jon Snow again. What would he look like? Would he want to see her? Would he be the same man she knew from when they were young?

“My lady,” a male voice called out, Greywind jumping up to defend her,“what are you doing out here? All alone are ya?”

He was a plump man, reminding (Y/N) of her father. He was adorned in black, a sword by his hip. His face seemed kind, and he didn’t give off a threatening vibe but she couldn’t be too sure.

“Wh-who are you?” she shivered, freezing from sleeping outside.

“I’m Sam, I-I’m part of the Night’s Watch.”

“The Night’s Watch?” for the first time in week she smiled, dropping the sword she was clutching onto.“You’re from the Night’s Watch!”

He nervously smiled.“Yes, I just said that.”

She got closer to him. “Tell me, is Jon Snow still there?” 

“Yes, he’s Lord Commander actually.”

“I need to see him!”

“Well, women aren’t supposed to come with us-”

“I’m the Queen in the North and I demand you to take me to him!”

(Y/N) didn’t mean to make demands. After all this time travelling to the Wall, all she wanted was to see Jon, to try and figure everything out. Sam was hesitant, but took her anyway. He was extremely kind to her, so kind she could almost cry; he tried to keep a casual conversation, obviously not wanting to dive too deep into why she was wanting to see a bastard at the Wall, especially if she claimed herself as Queen in the North.

(Y/N) walked in first to Castle Black, Sam following with the horse and Greywind. The gates revealed men training with each other, everyone stopping as the woman walked in. She held her head high, not wanting to falter under their glare. She was tired, cold, hungry and mourning, all of this happening mere weeks ago. No word was spoken, the men wondering who this random woman was.

As (Y/N)’s eyes scanned around her, they finally landed on her lover. He stood with the same shocked face, frozen to the spot. Their steps were slow at first, each one becoming faster than the other, missing each other after all these years.

“Jon!” she cried as she leapt into his arms, relieved when he caught her.

The hug was the same as their last one all those years ago. She was crying hysterically, her emotions suddenly showing themselves all at once. Jon was still in shock. He never thought he would see (Y/N) again, yet here she was, looking close to death. Her bright expression was gone, he had got word of what had happened, and he thought she was dead. But here she was, still among the living.

“What are you doing here? They said you were dead!” he exclaimed, pulling away to look at her.

“Th-they killed Robb! They betrayed us! How could they do that?!”

“(Y/N), calm down, you’re safe now.”

“I had no where else to go. You were the only person I could think of.”

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

“And I you. I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”

The presence of a woman caused a disturbance within Castle Black. The men, deprived of this luxury, were either lusting after (Y/N) or cursing the fact that she was taking their food and beds, and possibly bringing unnecessary danger to them. She was Queen in the North, if word got out that she was alive, enemies would come after her; some believed that this fire would be fueled even more when their Lord Commander would refuse to hand her over. It was obvious to everyone that they were in love, even if they didn’t show it.

If that wasn’t enough, another woman entered the castle, though the men seemed to favour (Y/N) more as the Red Woman waltzed in. She had an air about her that warned you she wasn’t a normal lady. The way she spoke in riddles confused everyone. (Y/N) had tried to stay out of the way of the men, keeping quiet and indoors for the most part, but after feeling cooped up for a while, she finally plucked up the courage to grab a bow and arrow, deciding to put her skills to practice once again. Her archery skills were like nothing anyone had ever seen. She could casually hit her target spot on, it didn’t matter the distance or the circumstances. (Y/N) had spent her time mourning, although she was still grieving, her mind had to remain focus. These were dangerous times, and she had a feeling the fight at the Red Wedding wouldn’t be her last.

“My lady, I have heard of how well you handle a bow and arrow. I am glad that I have witnessed this.” Melisandre spoke, always somehow appearing as if by magic. 

‘Perhaps her Lord of Light blessed her with the power to sneak up on people.’ (Y/N) thought to herself, still not sure what to make of the woman.

“Thank you, I’ve been practicing all my life.”

“A very useful skill to have. Though I believe that is not all you have to offer.”

(Y/N) set the weapon down, looking at Melisandre confusedly. She didn’t want any part in any prophecy or vision the Red Woman had. All she truly wanted was to keep her loved ones (those who were still alive) safe and close to her, avoid any war that came her way and keep on living.

“The long, treacherous winter approaching will bring much more terror, grown men will be frightened by just the sight of it. But before that happens, two people as one will conquer death, binding them together for eternity.”

(Y/N) scoffed, forgetting her manners.“I am sorry to inform you that I don’t believe in your Lord of Light, nor the ‘prophecies’ you believe will come true. I live in the real world where I have already experienced death right in front of my eyes, it can’t be stopped, no matter how hard you try.”

“By yourself maybe, but with another, it will be possible.”

(Y/N) had ignored those words, knowing that she was just preaching what she believed in. She had had enough of her riddles, enough of the glares she received from the men; what was she doing here? Was she destined to live here for the rest of her days hiding away? Well, Melisandre seemed to think not. The only thing keeping her going was her lust for revenge and Jon; he would sneak into her room, stealing kisses and holding her as close as he possibly could. This didn’t happen straight away. She was the widow of Robb Stark, Jon’s half-brother, and he wondered whether they had actually fallen in love along the way. But after a couple of weeks, she started to explain everything, how they plotted against Joffrey, how they planned to rescue the Stark girls, and the marriage that became a part of that. Jon learnt that she had kept their promise, the promise of their love for one another, and that’s all he needed.

As (Y/N) settled for the night, she heard a disturbance outside. At first she ignored it, putting it down to the men messing around with each other. But as she stopped and listened, her guts were telling her that something wasn’t right; and the last time she felt this feeling was when Robb was killed. Grabbing her word, she rushed outside on high alert, a deafening scream escaping her as she saw what her instincts were warning her about.

Jon was surrounded by men of the knights watch, all of them taking turns to stab him. Rage filled her body, her legs sprinting towards the traitors; no, she couldn’t face betrayal again. For a couple of men, it was too late for them to even defend themselves as (Y/N) charged towards them like a wild animal. Her sword dug deep into their flesh, blood spraying all over the crisp, white snow. They didn’t stop murdering Jon, only rushing before fighting off the queen. Her mind knew there were too many of them, she was good with her sword but there was no way she could take them all on. That didn’t falter her movements, fiercely slicing down whoever crossed her path. Just as little hope started to creep it’s way into her mind, an immense pain spread through her body, her limbs paralysed as she processed what had happened.

Slowly looking down, she saw a sword doused in her blood pierced through her torso. (Y/N) started to shake, dropping her sword as sharp, panicked breaths filled the silence. She gagged as it was pulled out of her, the taste of blood filling her mouth. (Y/N) couldn’t move a muscle, only yell out in pain as more men stabbed her, no one holding back. Her legs collapsed underneath her, and she cried out for Jon as she tried to crawl her way towards his lifeless body, her nails digging into the ground. Her teary eyes looked into his, there was no life left in them. She stretched her arm out as much as she could, desperately wanting to hold his hand for comfort before she perished. (Y/N) had not often thought about her death, not since she had witnessed it. No one wanted to go like this, she didn’t understand why they killed Jon, why they were killing her. Her fingers barely brushed against his, she could feel her limbs getting heavy before her eyes shut, one last breath from her body before she was submerged in darkness.

Fire, she was surrounded by fire. Was this Hell? Was she damned to suffer here? Why? What had she ever done to be sent down here? But wait, the fire wasn’t raging hot as she thought it would be, it should be seeing how close she was to it. But behind her she suddenly felt cold. Looking over her shoulder, there was ice creeping its way through the pitch black, light snow gracefully falling. (Y/N) was baffled as the two elements met under her feet, the fire still burning and the ice still forming. What did this mean? 

A big, loud gasp shocked (Y/N) awake, a small panic attack following after. Her eyes were wide, frightened at the thought of what she saw. Where was she? As she looked around her, her throat dry and skin cold, her senses came back to her. She was lying naked on a wooden board, though where she was exactly was still unknown. Slowly sitting up, (Y/N) wondered whether she was alive or dead. She felt alive, glancing down at her body, her fingers hesitantly tracing over deep, dark scars that covered her torso. As she kept questioning what happened to her, she realised she was not alone.

“Jon!” She cried out, surprised when she felt how agile her body was. 

(Y/N) slipped off the board, slowly stepping towards his body. Her shaky hands grabbed his, kissing them tenderly as she looked over his similar scars. He felt real too. Were the Gods kind to them and had reunited them in the Heavens? Her cries were quiet, shoulders shaking as she begged for him to wake up too. Calling his name did nothing, shaking his body did nothing; leaning over him, she rested her forehead on his, tears spilling onto his face. 

“My lady, you’re awake!” Melisandre rushed into the room, standing beside the queen in bewilderment.

The priestess’ attention was drawn to (Y/N)’s tears covering Jon’s face. Backing away, Melisandre circled the table, watching the heartbreaking scene. The Lord of Light had brought one back, why not the other? Were her prophecies wrong? Were they not supposed to conquer together? But as she looked closer, she could see with each tear drop, his skin became less pale, his usual complexion returning. Could she e the secret to all this?

“(Y/N)?” a voice whispered out.

(Y/N) flinched away from Jon, a sob coming out of her as she saw his eyes open, looking up at her. They stared at each other for a while, ignoring the fact that they were still naked and had never seen each other like this.

“A-are we....dead?” She asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

“I don’t know.”

Greywind and Ghost were instantly on their feet, each on high alert as they watched their owners come back to life. At first they growled at the door when someone burst through, relaxing when they saw Ser Davos. The man couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He had picked up their bodies, laid them down as the Red Woman had instructed, and now they were alive. Melisandre watched intensely, grabbing blankets for both of them.

“You are alive, the Lord of Light brought you back.” she proclaimed. 

They welcomed the warmth the blankets gave them, staying close to one another.

“But it seemed that he needed (Y/N)’s help to bring you back, Lord Snow.”

“You brought me back?” he asked, just as confused as his lover.

“No, I just woke up and-”

Ser Davos intervened.“Leave them woman. They’re almost freezing to...never mind.”

They slowly and silently got changed, still feeling...whatever they were feeling. They seemed to be thinking exactly the same, embracing each other as soon as they were dressed. Neither could believe what was happening. They had been risen from the dead, resurrected from their murder. (Y/N) could still feel the fear coursing through her veins, images of those men stabbing her made her panic. She knew that Jon would do something about it, just after they figured out what the hell had happened to them.

“What did you see?” (Y/N) asked Jon, wondering if he saw the same as her.

“Nothing. I saw nothing, it was just black.” he answered, sounding almost angry about it.“Did you see the same?”

She hesitated.“I saw...I was standing there, in darkness just like you. But then there was fire, then there was ice, and they were clashing against one another. I don’t know what it means, perhaps it was nothing.”

“No.”

“No?”

“That meant something, we have been brought back to life, that thing you saw wasn’t some odd dream.”

“Jon, what does this mean for us? Why were we brought back?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to think about it. Although I’m happy you’re back....this just isn’t natural.”

“I know, I know. But, what are we going to do now?”

“Whatever it is life throws at us next.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Y/N) sighed as she watched Jon walking through Winterfell’s defences with his new queen, hating that she felt jealous of that woman. She was a unique beauty, nothing like she had seen before. And what with her amazing new dragons, she seemed to have everything going for her. (Y/N) looked back on all that she had been through with Jon, all the heartbreak, danger, bloodshed and the small time they had to actually spend together, knowing that it only made them stronger; though her mind still wavered through moments of doubt.

“She is gorgeous, isn’t she?” (Y/N) stated as her and Jon walked the halls of the castle that night.

“Who?”

She smiled at him.“Daenerys! You two seem to have-”

“Grown close? You know she means nothing to me, not like that anyway.”

With their arms looped, (Y/N) rested her head on his shoulder, happy with the answer.“Sorry, I did not mean to jump to conclusions.”

“I understand. Have I upset you?”

“No, I think the pressure of this oncoming war is playing too much on my mind.” 

They reached her chambers, both stopping in front of the door. Although they considered themselves very much in love, they had never shared a bed, worried as to how it would look in front of their peers. But (Y/N) was through with keeping up appearances, following rules; many rules had been bent or broken throughout her lifetime, she was just following suit.

“Stay with me tonight.” she offered confidently.

“What?”

“I’m not wasting anymore time. The army of the dead is coming for us and I have yet to sleep beside you.”

Jon’s gaze was intense, and he surprised (Y/N) when he opened her door, gently pushing her inside. She really hadn’t meant anything sexual by what she said, but wasn’t opposed to where this was going. Jon was in the same mindset, wanting to express his love for her in a different way. She was his woman, and he her man, it had always been that way. No one dared to take either of them away from each other.

“Jon,” (Y/N) panted out as she curled up next to him in bed,“I love you.”

He was quick to reply.“I love you. (Y/N),” he sat up, resting his weight on his elbow so that he was looking over her,“I don’t want to risk losing you again.”

She tried not to show confusion on her face.“You won’t, why are you saying that?”

“The dead are coming, we’ve fought them before, we’ve seen how they work. What if-”

“No, no don’t say ‘what if’. We just have to take everyday as it comes. We’ve died once, and it showed me how important everything in your life is, including you.”

“I can’t help it.” he softly smiled.“Everything is moving far too fast.”

“And it won’t slow down either. We just need to catch up.”

Another week of planning for the battle against the dead sped by. Jon was right, it really felt like they had no time to prepare themselves. Tension was also rising within the walls, the dragon queen wasn’t loved by all, and she knew this; (Y/N) wanted to trust Jon’s judgement, though it was hard when an outsider with the Mad King as a father suddenly wanted you to bend the knee. Alongside this, (Y/N) had been having spurs of sickness (a majority of the time in the morning), she was late; it wasn’t hard to figure out what was happening to her. She said nothing though, scared that it would distract Jon when all of his attention needed to be on this battle.

(Y/N) was startled as she walked outside of the castle walls, still not used to the dragons that casually loitered around. She tried not to show it, but panic rose as she realised that their mother was not there. Daenerys had mentioned that they ate anything, especially as they were starving. Greywind (who had not left her side ever since she fell pregnant, she thought he knew even before her) growled at the beasts, hair riled up as he stood in front of her.

“There’s no need to worry.” Daenerys called out from behind her.

“I’m sorry your grace, just...not used to such creatures. Neither is he.” (Y/N) tried to calm the direwolf but he wouldn’t budge.

“They are unsure of yours as well.”

“Greywind is just very protective. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“Lord Snow has one like this, does he not?”

“Yes, they were gifted to all the Stark children many years ago. Greywind became mine when....when Robb was murdered.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“We’ve all lost something throughout these years haven’t we?”

“How right you are.”

“Am I interrupting?” Jon asked as he approached.

“Going off flying again are we?” (Y/N) smiled at him, resisting kissing him. They were still wary of showing their affection in front of others.

“Who else can say that they’ve flown a dragon?”

“The dragon queen perhaps?”

They were going to continue talking when one of the dragons walked towards them. (Y/N) and Jon were wary, Daenerys not moving an inch. However, as the mother of dragons went to pet him, she was almost pushed aside when he walked straight past her. Greywind growled and barked as the dragon stopped in front of him, though the massive creature did not retaliate. 

“Greywind, that’s enough!” Jon commanded, sensing what was going on. Drogon had the same look as he did now when Jon first met them, and he wanted to see if the same thing was happening here.

Greywind reluctantly stood down, backing away a little, but not too far. (Y/N) suddenly missed the defence of the wolf, even if he was tiny compared to the dragon. Drogon lowered his head, an eye just in front of her face. Her heart was beating erratically, her mind screaming why no one was stopping this. It seemed like a lifetime she was stood there, only realising that Jon was gesturing for her to touch the dragon. Her eyes widened at his madness, but remembered him telling her of the time he did the same thing.

As she boldly stretched out her hand to rest of Drogon’s head, Daenerys could feel the rage in her. Why were her dragons suddenly taking a liking to these people? They were her children, not theirs! When Jon had been accepted by them, she had secretly been happy; she had been intrigued by this man, though was very annoyed when she was informed of a lover, even if they weren’t official. Daenerys had ignored that, still surprised that her dragons would let another ride on them, but this was too much. She had never even heard of this woman, what value did she have?

Drogon closed his eyes as (Y/N) gently pet him, the texture of his scales a new, strange feeling underneath her fingertips. Although quiet, Jon could hear the small laugh, the unbelievable gasp that left her lips. He beamed at the sight, amazed by the sight before him. (Y/N)’s moment was ruined by Daenerys’ glare, and not wanting to piss off someone who could control these things, she slowly removed her hand.

“Can you believe that? Why would Drogon let her do that?” Jon asked in bewilderment.

“I don’t know. Perhaps the cold is effecting them.” Daenerys seethed, climbing onto the dragon.

“Perhaps they would let her ride them too? If would enhance our chances of-”

(Y/N) could sense the queens fury, her eyes like daggers. But what was also on her mind was the baby, Jon’s baby.“No, no Jon. I couldn’t possibly. Besides, I think Greywind would go mad if I did.”

“Are you really refusing to-”

“Jon, I can’t. Please, just trust me on this.”

Jon stood in front of her, blocking her view of Daenerys.“(Y/N), what aren’t you telling me? Are you alright?”

“Yes I’m fine. I just don’t fancy flying one of them.”

“You wouldn’t stop going on about how jealous you were of me. Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Alright, I will, tonight. Just go about the day as you would, don’t stress over me, OK?”

He stared at her for a few seconds longer, definitely not OK after those words. But knowing that he would get nothing out of her, he went to Rhaegal and mounted him before flying off with the mother of dragons. (Y/N) called the direwolf to her, petting him as a thank you for his protection. What he couldn’t protect her from was telling the truth to Jon and his reaction. Why couldn’t she have made up a better excuse?

(Y/N) had expected to see Jon late at night, assuming he was busy with planning. So when he burst into the great hall as she settled down for supper, she almost threw her plate at him in shock.

“Jon, you scared me.” she breathed out, clutching her heart.

He rounded the table and sat beside her, grabbing her hand.“What is it? What’s wrong with you?”

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about me?”

“Yes, but did you really think I would do that.”

She smiled.“No I suppose not.”

“So?”

“So...” 

Where was she to start?

“You’ve noticed how Greywind has been more protective of me haven’t you? More than usual?”

He nodded.

“Well, I now know why. For the past week or so I have been sick most mornings, becoming tired much too quickly and-”

“You’re pregnant?”

All she could do was nod, not sure how to take his reaction. He was definitely shocked, but whether it was good or bad was up for deliberation.

“I can’t believe it.” he whispered out as he smiled, relieving (Y/N). He leaned across and hugged her.“This is amazing news.”

“Oh thank the gods.” she sighed.“That’s why I wouldn’t get on the dragon, just...well, just being paranoid.”

“No, you were right. If you got on that dragon and I found out about this later, I wouldn’t have forgiven myself.” he pulled away, kneeling on the floor before her.“(Y/N), I want to make an honest woman out of you.”

“Excuse you? Am I not honest an woman?” she teased.

“You know what I mean. Marry me, be my wife.”

“Of course I will Jon, you already knew my answer.”

Jon relished in the happiness he felt with her, he was grateful that she was back in his life. Yes, there was the dead coming for them, but he had faith; the amount of allies they had gathered was supplying hope for him. But he was living for that moment. They had kept their promises as children, they were wanting to get married, she was having his child. As they sat with each other, talking about the endless possibilities as to what their child would be like, he debated on telling her everything that Sam had told him, who he truly was. Maybe it explained Drogon’s actions, there was technically a Targaryen growing in her. For now he would not complicate things, he didn’t know what this battle would bring or what the outcome would be. He was living in the moment, and this moment was what he had been dreaming about his whole life.

#jon snow #jon snow imagine #jon snow imagines #jon snow one shot #jon snow x reader #daenerys targaryen #sansa stark #arya stark #bran stark #tormund #tormund giantsbane #robb stark #robb stark imagine #robb stark imagines #robb stark x reader #robb stark one shot #cersei #cersei lannister #robert baratheon

[winniethepooh11062003]

03:30 am

Woke up, and the first thing that I think about is you. There’s a lot of things I’m going to write here, and I think I want you to read them all. One by one.

It’s 3:30 in the morning, Wednesday. I don’t want to come to school today. You made coming to school such a joy. For real. I used to look forward to our conversations and laughs. Wow slut, I really really miss those days.

And I’ve been listening to music you like, and right now, I’m listening to those songs I showed you during Impact. That was the first time we’ve ever had actual contact, and I remember every detail in clear detail.

I cried myself to sleep last night. As a matter of fact, I cried a lot yesterday. Tried studying, working out, eating, everything possible, couldn’t take my mind off you. I know an apology was long overdue. But I’m sorry. I really am.

Slut, there’s a lot I’ve been thinking these few days. And they’ve all got you in it.

Suffocated, lost; these are words that only partially describe how I feel when my best friend doesn’t talk to me and doesn’t even look me in the eye anymore. You know that feeling when you realise something major is missing from your life? I’ve that feeling right now, and a lot of it.

Slut, seriously, think about this, when I tell you that you’re my best friend and the best one I’ve ever had, and I’d hold on to you for dear life, I’m not lying. I don’t think I’d lie about those things. I just feel the same.

Slut, I don’t remember if I called you a bad influence, but it’s stupid. If anyone is a bad influence, it’s me. I taught you cuss words, deep throat nonsense and whatnot, and I’ve been so abusive and difficult. I wish someone would just punch me in the face something, break all my 28 teeth.

Slut, what are you doing now? Sleeping? Okay slut, I can see you in my head now. Eyes welling up. Been up like a maniac since 3. First thing on my mind is you.

Also, slut, when I said I might switch on you in college, that’s bullshit. I said that cause of a fucked up ego, that I’ve consciously worked to change out. I think I’ve got a little more mature now, I’m not lying; I really see change.

Slut, come here with your cycle. I wanna talk to you in the dark. And watch the sun come up. I’m sad we don’t do that anymore. Also, I saw your mouth today. So cute. You look younger. Like the pictures you sent me.

You’ve lost a lot of weight, and your jawline is so good. I’ve done the opposite.

Also, slut, if you recall, I said I wanted to make a million memories with you. I still want to. So badly. Slut I’m convinced that you’re the best. There’s enough evidence and more than that. It hurtssssss. Slut I can’t stand that you won’t see my face.

I don’t know slut, how hard was it? Because I would fail if I took on this mission to ignore you. Slut, I know I’ve hurt you really bad this time, because you’re still mad at me.

I’ve bought you a book, and I want to give it to you sometime. It’s a Jhumpa Lahiri book. I just wanted to introduce you to a new type of person.

I’m shivering now. I’m terrified. What if you never talk to me ever again? What if we can never have the chance to make memories again? When you told me you’d pick me over K, I was devastated. I really didn’t think you liked me that much. But I can say without a doubt, that I’d choose you over anyone else for sure. No hesitation. That’s what you mean to me.

Slutttt, I miss you so much. Remember that drive? Slut, thinking about it makes me so nostalgic. Slut, can we go back in time? Like is it actually possible? Because I’d go back to that first day. Sliding that desk across the room. You looking at me and thinking I’m a clown. I’d give anything for you to just look at me again. And I’d relive those moments, make sure we’re fine.

Slutt, it’s really my fault. I’m not being sarcastic. And you’re not a bad influence, what can I say sluttttttt? What can I do to make things right? I suck. I don’t deserve you. God, I thank all these circumstances that got me closer to you. Every single factor. Slut, even before I’ve seen you, I’ve felt something for you. It’s that feeling when you know you’ve got to know someone so badly. Slut, I’m not letting my ego get between us ever again. So I just want you to talk to me. Please.

Boards are in a few months. After that, we won’t be in school again. Slut, what if you forget me after school? Slut, I don’t want you to go. I’m scared. I don’t want that to happen. Slut, we’re running out of time. I thought of talking to my mother and asking her to call your mother. But I didn’t want to force you to talk to me.

Slut I was the only person between us who was so possessive and jealous. I’ve noticed that quite often. But my ego never let me see it. Such a child slut.

I call you Ruj in my head, and slut everywhere else. Slut, you’re a permanent memory. You’ll always be someone I’ve got great admiration for. I hope you make it big, and well. Like I hope you get your pilot license, become the best designer to ever exist, and what not. I really hope you get ahead in life and become the best in your fields of interest.

Slut, I don’t want to feel hopeless. I just feel like I want some guarantee that we’d forget this and get together.

Ruj, we’ve been friends for so long, and I thought we had an understanding, and many fights along the way, but you drew the line here. No warnings, straight up just cut me out. I know there’s a limit to being a dick, and just because I’ve told you I’m a bad person, doesn’t give me the liberty to be such a cunt.

Ruj, I want to show you that I can change. That I can treat you the right way. I’d be glad if you gave me just one more chance.

17 years of existence. The best wishes I’ve ever got was on my 17th birthday. And I was actually sad the previous night, I thought everyone forgot me. And I wanted Arya to wish me🤮. Your wishes were way more than sufficient. My day was great when I read your email. Slut, I want to make you a promise, that I’ll think and act rationally, rather than being an impulsive and irritable dumbass.

So precious. I’m so ever eternally grateful you’ve been a part of my life, and I really wish you’re a part of my life until the end. Even after that. Slut, I know you might think I’m lying right now, but that isn’t true. These are my thoughts that I’m writing down. They come and go, so I thought of writing them down.

First day the school reopened, I came with hopes that you’d forgive me. But you were already so pissed off. Slut, I’m so sorry. Like I know it’s been my fault this entire time. I’m embarrassed, ashamed.

Slut, I’d choose you over my ego. And I’m serious. Slut, just one chance to make things right. One. And I’ll change my ways.

Slut I keep reading your email and crying. I remember when you said I made you cry when I ghosted you. I’m so sorry. I’m so damn sorry. Slut, do you even miss me one bit?

I don’t want to rip bandages off you. I don’t want to fucking switch on you. I want you. Just you is fine. My life is so fucking empty. I’m sorry. Slut, it makes sense now, what you were talking about in the email happened. You knew this whole time? That I was a dick? And that you’d get away for the better?

Slut, that email wa so passive aggressive it hurt. I felt bad when I read it, but I think that you wishing me in the first place was insanely nice. It’s not fine. What’s fine? No, me turning on you would be a violation of everything I hold dear to me.

I will never change my decision. Slut, I’ve understood your true value now. I mean, I’ve always known, but I just got ignorant in the middle.

Slut, I’m worried about the future. What if we live far away? What if you go to college somewhere else? I won’t get a new best friend and all. That’s for sure. It’s you or no one else. I decided to never get a best friend ever again if it wasn’t you. Slut, I’m asking for nothing else but your forgiveness. I’d be more than happy if you gave it some thought and told me if you want to talk to me. I’m so sorry. I could apologize a million times. But I just want you to know how sorry I am. And what you mean to me. Slut, if you don’t take the book tomorrow or the day after, I’m going to be so hurt. But I deserve to be.

You gave me all your passwords. Wow. Still can’t get over that. I wish I’d shared all of mine too. Life is so empty. My words can’t even describe what’s in my head. Slut, sorry. Mannichiko, ennaku theriyum nee kovamma irruka. If you came back though, I promise, I’ll be an actual best friend to you. Not that I wasn’t this whole time, I’ll treat you like the gem that you are.

I’m glad that our parents know each other. Like there’s a lot in common between us. Slut. Epdi irruka? No really, how are you? I haven’t been able to get through for the longest time. I want to know how you’re doing. Please let me know.

Wow, it’s been an hour.

Slut. I’m sorry for being an abusive and a stupid friend. I swear I’ve changed now, and I want you to look at the new me. Sorry for stealing your peace and fun, and I hope I’m not some kind of parasite. I loved each and every thing we’ve ever done.

Slut, it’s quite true, I started fighting with you most of the time. And I think I’ll cut down, not stop. If you gave me a chance. I love calling you names. Vivek, Khat, Ruj, Slut, Rujithaw, and whatnot. I loved it all. I still love it.

Also, I thought of bringing this up a long long time ago. You see, I tell you to listen to music and watch things etc. but you rarely ever suggest things. Midnight Sky, What Are The Odds are just a few things, and why do you assume I won’t like them? Midnight Sky is really good, and I think I don’t even have to talk about WATO. I loved it. Slut, I know this feeling. This feeling of emptiness, and I think the dead morning vibe adds to it. Slut I miss you. And I pray and hope that you come back.

Stud really loves and misses you. And so does Dobby. Dobby doesn’t lie about that.

Good morning slut, I hope you have an awesome day today. And I miss you, love you, and wish I could make things right. Bye for now.