#lyarra stark supremacy

[yerevasunclair]

The Light of Our Lives Still Burning (Drabble Teaser)

“Lady mother. I am glad you are here.” Catelyn beams at Lady Lyarra. Although she is a bit disappointed that her own mother Minisa could not come to Winterfell to see her newest grandchild, she was beyond grateful that Lady Lyarra was in Ned’s stead to provide her with moral support and help her give birth.

“Gramma, Gramma! Look at me holding baby Arya!” little Robb yells as Lady Lyarra closes the door behind her. Arya was already 5 days old and Sansa was doting and humming her favorite song to their baby sister. Catelyn smiled as she supported Robb’s arms in carefully bearing Arya. She hopes for Ned’s safe return, so he could see the child that resembles him so.

Lady Lyarra quietly sits on the edge of the bed and as soon as Sansa regarded her grandmother’s presence, she crawled toward her and gave her a big and tight hug.

“Baby Arya.. she pretty…she has yah hair, Gramma.” Sansa tells Lyarra as she took a long strand of her brunette hair and twisted them in her fingers.

“Yes, she is beautiful. All of you are because you got that from your parents.” Lyarra cradled Sansa and kissed the top of her forehead.

“I now have two sisters. Can I have more baby brothers instead of sisters in the future, lady mother?” Robb asks as he hands Arya back to Catelyn to relieve his numbing arms from her weight.

“Or two more sisters I can play dolls with…” Sansa pleads to her mother kindly. The boys outnumbered the girls in their household and it still made her feel lonely that she only has Jeyne and Beth to relate to.

“Your wishes will soon be granted, my loves. You shall have more of them as your playmates in the right time.” Catelyn replies to the both of them as Lyarra slightly chuckled at her grandchildren’s requests. Robb & Sansa reminded her of Brandon and Ned arguing about the number of siblings that they wanted. Brandon thought one sister was already enough of a sore in the ass, while Ned disputed that there was nothing wrong with having more ladies around to give him a good kicking. A flush of sadness starts to pervade in her. After Benjen, she had miscarried twice then had one stillborn after that. The stillborn was a son, who she named Edwyle. She remembered how she warmed him, hoping her warmth would give him life. She sang and talked to him, pretending he was only cursed with a deep sleep that needed a mother’s call. Rickard had left her alone, as he commissioned a woodsman to craft a baby’s coffin. She carried his dead body that she wrapped in a blanket of white wool, as she strolled through the gardens to pick blue winter roses and faded pink camellias. She laid him in the box, bared him and arranged the flowers around him. She did not want anyone to touch or even see Edwyle’s lifelessness, not even Rickard. She had failed and she decided that it would be the last. Edwyle was buried in her designated tomb and soon, they will both share the same cold space. She submerges the memory again as she beseeched her gods to protect Ned & Catelyn, that they may not live to grieve and bury their own child.

“Now, now, children. I need to have a private talk with your lady mother. You two go out and play for a while. After your play, I’ll read you more stories, teach you more words and songs. If you perform well on my lessons, then I’ll bake lemon cakes. How’s that?” Lady Lyarra diverts their attention to her promised reward and Robb and Sansa jumped out of the bed in glee and cheered. They kissed their grandmother’s cheek, told their mother they would come back and ran out of the door as Robb gave his word to Sansa that he’ll play with her dolls if she joins with him and Jon making animals out of clay and hunting treasures in mud pies.

Lyarra sits beside Catelyn in the bed, as she gazes down at a sleeping Arya.

“I shall put her in her crib since she’s already had her fill. She’s so quiet when content.” Catelyn softly rubs Arya’s chin and rocks her slowly. She stood from the bed and placed her on the crib where Lyarra once settled her children to sleep. Lyarra bequeathed it to her as soon as Catelyn & Robb first arrived in Winterfell.

“Just like her father. Ned was feisty when hungry. His appetite as an infant was rather appalling and eminent compared to his siblings. He craved for so much milk and food that he became a plump toddler, a walking round ham.”

“Ned used to be fat?” Catelyn laughs at the imagination as she sits back beside her.

“It is true. Sansa inherited her love of sweets from him.”

“Oh, I thought Sansa got that from me. Ned eat sweets on such a small amount.”

“Like every other lord who maintains a soldier’s physique. I successfully controlled his food intake by teasing him and scaring him with my self-made horror tales on monsters who loved to eat chubby babes like him.” Lyarra smirked at that. She was always the naughty parent who prided herself in pranking her children.

“Poor, Ned!”

“Brandon often teased him for his weight too. Somehow, it made him feel worse and that’s why he worked harder at swords and archery. As for this bundle over here, I am honored that you named her after my mother.”

“It is a remarkable name that deserves remembrance.”

“She was of the mountains. My mother was a superb huntress and climber, who had the sharp instincts of animals and knew the woods by heart, a clever navigator and astute lady. She pursued my father to avoid a war between the Starks & the Flints. I learned from her a great deal about charming a man and being a marriageable wife more than just a sexually desirable woman. I could imagine this daughter of yours being as adventurous and free-spirited as she is.”

“I’m thrilled with the thought of welcoming Ned at the gates and presenting her to him as soon as he comes down from his horse. I wish that this would be the last war he fights for King Robert.”

“We’ll never know. But I do not give a damn if Ned suppresses the rebellion of the Ironborn, the Freefolk and the rest of the threats present here in the North. So as long as he never goes down South.”

Lady Lyarra was not an open person. But in rare occasions like these, Catelyn could only listen and sympathize with how hard she tries to relive the joyous reminiscence, only to be pulled back again to the worst, darkest shreds of the past.  

“Winter came for me, when the Mad King murdered my husband and first son and when Prince Rhaegar shamed my daughter. The Targaryens nearly wiped out my lineage.” Lyarra said with utter hatred. To hear or mention the name Targaryen made her blood boil and her soul scream and pound behind the frozen wall of her impassive composure. She almost lost her wits, shielding her Eddard & Benjen from death. She swore to herself that if death took them, she would claim the Lord’s seat and transform the North into her own mighty queendom.

Terror and fear glided on Catelyn’s skin. What if political rifts will arise, such that it will compel her Ned to answer to whatever the King’s request may be? They were like brothers, bound by unbroken trust, friendship, and allegiance to each other. Ned is that kind of lord, with an unmoved devotion who never refuses to do what is right, especially when it comes to aiding Robert’s cause. If Ned returns to King’s Landing and suffers the same devastation, the same death in that same place, what would she do? How will she survive a life without her Ned? No, that cannot happen. They’re wise enough to learn from history. She’ll do everything she can to keep him safe with her.

“But I lived long enough to see another spring. You, and my Ned together building a strong family.”

Will she meet the same winter as her, the loss of a family and the similar struggle of grappling in the midst of war, securing her son’s seat and mind sparring with the high lords at battle strategy and diplomatic negotiations? She is confident in her knowledge and skills but would she have such resilience to lead? She has earned sufficient respect from the Northerners, but a part of her still thinks that it is mostly because Ned and Lady Lyarra treat her accordingly with such acclaim. It is the Starks they follow, not her.

“You motivate him more gently in a way that I can’t. I’ve been too hard on him. He was trained to be a warrior and vassal, to know his place as a second son when it should not have been that way. Look where that got him, despite all the benefits of his fostering he was unsure of himself and unprepared to lead the North. I had to push him farther than where his training got him and thank the Old Gods it bore fruit. He’s come this far, far better than his father did and far wiser than Brandon ever could. I’m very proud of you both, Catelyn. The two of you complement each other tremendously, which puts me at ease and lifts my confidence that the North is in good hands with your joint efforts. That is all that I hope for, for the vigor and continuance of my bloodline because Winterfell belongs to the Starks. It remains with us until the future Starks can give what every Northman prays for, a sovereign kingdom.”

There was a hint of pride in Lady Lyarra’s voice when she spoke her last sentence. Catelyn was aware of the people’s desire and that the Northern lords were willing to declare Ned as the King in the North, but Lady Lyarra deliberately spurned that suggestion down knowing that Ned himself and the majority of the South declared for King Robert. Lady Lyarra was earnest to convince her people to unite with the South against the Targaryens instead of pouring more fuel to the fire by taking advantage of the situation and inclining to be another distinct conflict.

Catelyn’s admiration for her fortifies as the years passed by and to hear such approval from her expels all her self-doubt. She has done right, as a lady of Winterfell, as a wife and mother. She will strive to be better than who she was yesterday, to be as brave and stalwart as a true Stark.

“My heart is humbled. I am grateful for your remarks, lady mother.” Catelyn bowed her head. She did not know what else to say. She had been so intimidated by her since the start, which had her create a wider distance between them. They had a few disagreements, caused by some differences in culture and management style. But it was not of a serious matter that resulted to any bitterness.

“You deserve a praise, my lovely daughter. When Ned comes home, I’ll pat him on the shoulder for that too.”

“I would like to thank you, too, lady mother. You’ve been an inspiring mother and mentor to me, not just to Ned. If it weren’t for you, Ned and I would never be the lord and lady that we are today. We value you and love you very much.” Catelyn said and did not hesitate to embrace her.

“And I you, Catelyn.” She put one arm around her and lightly squeezed her arm.

It was a rare for her to tell her children how much she loved them. For it never came smoothly from her lips. When Rickard and Brandon departed to face the Mad King, it was an indignant separation. She refused to watch them leave or bid them luck on their journey. There was no need for that for they did not heed her advice. What kind of fools would make bargains and ask demands from a king who does not listen to reason? To this day, she resented them even when she loved them.

As for Lyanna, despite her rebelliousness, she had yelled that she loved her as she galloped away. She had chattered the whole morning about attending the lavish tourney that would be held at Harrenhal. Little did she know that she was beginning to lose her from that day on, she would never see the mirthful and ferocious she-wolf of a daughter.

When Benjen told her he wished to serve at the Wall, she did not know what to feel about it. She convinced him not to deprive himself of the opportunity of molding his own family to love that will love him in return. She gave him a new pair of boots, had sewn an iron-grey leather tunic with the direwolf sigil and a black coat lined with a black bear fur.

Ned is the child she has with her, the only son passing on the Stark name, who has bridled with her through many obstacles. Her Ned still has more long winters to meet and she might still be present in some. But when she departs the living, she would not dread for he already has everything that he needs.

Starks are wolves bonded to withstand the atrocities of the wilderness. We are like iron, forged to endure. That is why we always endure.

Lyarra thinks to herself, as she puts another arm around Catelyn to fully envelop her in her embrace

#house stark #ned x cat #nedlyn #ned stark #catelyn stark #little robb #little sansa #lyarra stark #catelyn tully #eddard stark #lyarra stark supremacy

[alinaastarkov]

“"it's either caused by narcissim and blood supremacy (targaryens), disfunctional families (lannisters) or extreme parental abuse (craster and gilly)...Excluding very rare pairings (Jaehaerys and Alysanne, and even they had toxic moments), all incestuous pairings have tragic endings.” This is clearly a Jonsa, they don’t read the books so the only Targ pairing that they know are good queen Alysane and Jaehaerys, plus ignoring the marriages between cousins and uncle-niece in the Stark family tree.

Yeah it’s funny how these people really don’t try before they come in my inbox and then they’re surprised when they get very easily destroyed by facts. Every house in the series has incest in it, and not every relationship is bad. They don’t have to enjoy that but they do have to get over it if they’re gonna read asoiaf. If they are gonna be anything close to valid, they had better start claiming Rickard and Lyarra is toxic and dysfunctional, they need to start complaining about Theon and Victarion both desiring Asha and about Arianne desiring Oberyn too.

#neve has mail #asoiaf #jupiterissopretty

[aegonbeingfakeisracist]

samwpmarleau replied to your post “1) I'm so curious as to what was happening in Maekar/ Dyanna's...”

I think there’s a few reasons. One, almost certainly GRRM didn’t have a Dayne in mind for Egg’s mother when he wrote the novellas; much like Lyarra Stark, I guarantee he only named her because he HAD to, and either it’s another matter of him finding the Daynes Cool or they’re going to play a part going forward. Two, we really don’t know much about Maekar’s inferiority. His world book entry is tiny, and most of what we see is filtered through Dunk.

Not to mention the times we do see him, he has good reason to be especially grumpy. Three, I seriously doubt GRRM thinks of the kids as biracial. He’s bad enough with fully Dornish characters — biracial ones, let alone those who don’t look Dornish? No way. Even Baelor isn’t uniquely connected to his Dornish heritage other than his looks. While canon is most important, I don’t think we can discount GRRM’s bullshittery here.

That sounds about right. I think I’ve made a similar argument about Egg before - he’s a biracial character that’s written as not just white passing, but actually white.

I like your point about Baelor. He is very much written as a Targaryen - like, different in that he doesn’t suck, but that’s it. He’s “more Martell than Targaryen” not because of anything he says or does, but because he looks like his mother. But because of that appearance, it becomes impossible to forget he’s biracial. It’s the other side of the coin with what’s going on with Aegon VI, who’s tied to his father’s family because of his name and looks, but has a story more heavily intertwined with his mother’s. But neither of those characters seem to actually explore anything meaningful? I don’t know, I’ll have to look for the posts, but I know I’ve grumbled a lot about how anti-Dornish sentiment in characters that don’t look Dornish, but have many Dornish ancestors could be making an interesting point about the nature of white supremacy, but that point isn’t actually bieng made because Martin doesn’t think of them as biracial.

#samwpmarleau #replies