#rhaenys targaryen/garlan tyrell

[missglaskin]

Basically what I will do is do them by the orders of the most demanded to the least

#yandere concept #yandere x reader #yandere platonic #game of thrones x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #yandere game of thrones #yandere asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon

[anxiousnerdwritings]

In your opinion for yan! Got/asoiaf who's the most manipulative yandere? Least manipulative?

Some of the characters really depend on the situation and the overall relationship with their darling but so far this is what I could think of.

Most Manipulative:

Euron Greyjoy

Tywin Lannister

Brynden Rivers/Bloodraven

Shiera Seastar

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon Blackfyre

Aegon V Targaryen

Cersei Lannister

Visenya Targaryen

Olenna Redwyne

Margaery Tyrell

Robb Stark

Sansa Stark

Catelyn Tully/Stark

Lysa Tully/Arryn

Tyrion Lannister

Arianne Martell

Oberon Martell

Daenerys Targaryen

Roose Bolton

Ramsay Bolton

Joffrey Baratheon

Renly Baratheon

Maegor Targaryen

Aerion ‘Brightflame’ Targaryen

Rhaegar Targaryen

Aerys ’Mad King’ Targaryen

Lyanna Stark

Brandon Stark

Melisandre

Varys

Petyr ‘Littlefinger’ Baelish

Yigritte

Bran Stark

Arya Stark

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Jaime Lannister

Aemond ‘One Eye’ Targaryen

Robert Baratheon

Mance Rayder

Val

Theon Greyjoy

Reek!Theon Greyjoy?

Yara/Asha Greyjoy

Aemon ‘Dragonknight’ Targaryen

Gerold Dayne/Darkstar

Larys Strong

Corlys Velaryon

Jaqen H’ghar

Alicent Hightower

Criston Cole

Least Manipulative:

Podrick Payne

Brienne of Tarth

Rhaella Targaryen

Sandor Clegane

Jon Snow

Samwell Tarly

Tommen Baratheon

Myrcella Baratheon

Loras Tyrell

Rhaenys Targaryen

Alysanne Targaryen

Jaehaerys Targaryen

Shireen Baratheon

Ned Stark

Edric Dayne

Arthur Dayne

Elia Martell

Doran Martell

Benjen Stark

Helaena Targaryen

Aegon ‘The Conqueror’ Targaryen

Bronn

Aegor Rivers/Bittersteel

Brynden Tully

Missandei

Victarion Greyjoy

Willas Tyrell

Garlan Tyrell

Harwin Strong

Duncan the Tall

Daeron ‘The Good’ Targaryen

Robert Arryn/Sweetrobin

#anxious answers #yandere game of thrones #yandere asoiaf #yandere game of thrones concept #yandere concept

[rozsesandart]

• ART MASTERLIST - @rozsesandart •

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A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE ART

“ A knight of the seven kingdoms and her Oathkeeper” - Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth

“ Queen Rhaella Targaryen” - mother to Daenerys, Viserys and Rhaegar Targaryen

“I want to be the queen” - Margaery Tyrell

“Young Cersei Lannister” - Robert’s Rebellion series

“Lyanna Stark” - Robert’s Rebellion series

"A quiet evening in Pentos"- Laena, Daemon, Rhaena & Baela Targaryen

"Rhaena Targaryen of Pentos' - Rhaena with Morning's egg (commission)

“Six characters fan art challenge” - Daenys the dreamer, Daenerys Targaryen, Visenya Targaryen, Bran Stark, Missandei of Naath, Lyanna Stark

"Six characters fan art challenge part 2" - Genna Lannister, Ashara Dayne, Aerea Targaryen, Shiera Seastar, Daeron II Targaryen, Bloodraven

"King of the Narrow Sea" - Daemon Targaryen (commission)

“Lady Shiera Seastar” - bastard daughter of Aegon IV and Serenei of Lys, paramour of Brynden Rivers and Aegor Rivers

“Baelon & Alyssa Targaryen “- parents to Viserys I and Daemon

“Six characters challenge part three”- Saera Targaryen, Arianne Martell, Margaery Tyrell, Rohanne of Tyrosh, Daemon Blackfyre, Naerys Targaryen

“Jocelyn Baratheon & Aemon Targaryen” - Parents to Rhaenys, the queen who never was

“King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne” - mourning their little daughter and firstborn princess Daenerys Targaryen

“Book! Rhaenyra Targaryen”

“Book! Daemon Targaryen”

“Baela and Rhaena Targaryen” - (show version)

“Baela and Rhaena Targaryen”- ( Book version)

“Laena and Laenor Velaryon” - (book and show versions)

“Rhaenyra Targaryen and Harwin Strong” - the queen and her lover

“Cregan Stark”- lord of Winterfell

“Rhaenys Targaryen” - The Queen who never was (book version)

"My sweet sister Helaena" - Helaena Targaryen and her half sister Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen

"Velaryon queen and Targaryen king" - Daenaera Velaryon and Aegon III Targaryen

“Rhaegar Targaryen crowns Lyanna Stark” - Tourney at Harrenhal

“The maidenvault’s princesses” - Rhaena, Daena and Elaena Targaryen

“Ceryse Hightower” - Maegor the cruel’s first wife

“Alys Harroway”- Maegor the cruel’s second wife

“Tyanna of the Tower”- Maegor the cruel’s third wife

“Elinor Costayne” - Maegor the cruel’s fourth wife

“Jeyne Westerling”- Maegor the cruel’s fifth wife

“Rhaena Targaryen” - Maegor the cruel’s sixth wife

“Six Wives” - Maegor the Cruel Targaryen’s wives

"Sansa Stark" - portrait inspired by the books

“Margaery Tyrell” - portrait inspired by the books

“Robb Stark - The king in the north” - book art

“ Oberyn Martell” - Prince of Dorne

“ The three heads of the dragon” -Rhaenys, Aegon I and Visenya Targaryen

“ Naerea Targaryen” - Commissioned OC

“ Aurora and Valeria” - OC art commission

“ Queen Alysanne and her daughters” - Saera, Viserra, Maegelle, Gael, Daella and Alyssa

“Olenna Redwyne and Margaery Tyrell” - #housetyrellweek

“ Rhaena Targaryen and Elissa Farman” - The Queen in the west and her lover

“Robb Stark and Margaery Tyrell” - AU made for #housetyrellweek

“Laena Velaryon and Rhaenyra Targaryen “ - commission

“ Viserra Targaryen “ - daughter of king Jaehaerys and the good queen Alysanne Targaryen

“ Garlan Tyrell and Leonette Fossoway”- asoiaf books

“ Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth” - scene from the books

“ Lady Falena Stokeworth” - first mistress to Aegon IV Targaryen

“ Megette” - second mistress to Aegon IV Targaryen

“ Lady Cassella Vaith” - third mistress to Aegon IV Targaryen

“ Bellegre Otherys, the black pearl of Braavos” - fourth mistress to Aegon IV Targaryen

“ Lady Barba Bracken” - fifth mistress to king Aegon IV Targaryen and mother to Aegor Rivers (Bittersteel)

“Lady Melissa Blackwood” - sixth mistress to Aegon IV and mother to Brynden Rivers ( Bloodraven)

“ Lady Bethany Bracken” - sister to Barba and seventh mistress to Aegon IV

“Lady Jayne Lothston” - eight mistress of Aegon IV and rumored bastard by Falena Stokeworth

“Lady Serenei of Lys” - ninth mistress of Aegon IV and mother to Shiera Seastar

“Aegon IV Targaryen nine mistresses” - complete portrait

ASOIAF FASHION SERIES

“The Dothraki”

“House Martell”

“The Night’s Watch”

“House Bolton”

°°°°°°°

ALL ARTWORKS

“Kagome Higurashi”- Inuyasha (anime)

“Nana Osaki ”- Nana (anime)

#game of thrones #digital aritst #hotd #house of the dragon #digital art #game of thrones fanart #george rr martin #got fanart #art commisions #house targaryen #asoif fanart #asoiaf #asoiaf art #asoif/got #house of the dragon art #house stark #house tyrell #house lannister #westeros #grrm #hotdsource #hotd fanart #hotd fandom #commission art #artists on tumblr #art #digital artist #digital sketch #digital painting #fancast

[gelarios]

Okay, potential muse list (as I'm still open to any suggestions):

Brandon Stark

Jaime Lannister

Rhaenys I Targaryen

Theon Greyjoy

Garlan Tyrell

Addam Velaryon

Arianne Martell

Brienne of Tarth

Ahrera Nahin, oc (she's a mercenary from Essos)

#𝐢. 𝐌𝐮𝐧 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠! > ooc #I think I have done a pretty good job #wnth these fcs

[adancewithdragonsrpg]

RESERVAS OFICIALES

Al final del post dejamos la normativa de reservas por si alguien tiene dudas.

PERSONAJES CANON

Forrest Frey - TheKarpa Jeyne Arryn - Espeon Alicent Hightower - Scar Baela Targaryen - Scar Benjicot Blackwood - Bloody Ben Alysanne Blackwood - Niña Indigo Aemond Targaryen - Phantom Jacaerys Velaryon - Simba Tyland Lannister - Simba Aegon Targaryen - Grey Daemon Targaryen - CanciónNoEsTwitter Kermit Tully - CanciónNoEsTwitter Otto Hightower - Loyalty Elmo Tully - Muppet Jason Lannister - Narciso Rhaena Targaryen - PanConMermelada Brandon Stark - DeusVult Cregan Stark - Lobo Dalton Greyjoy - StrongBoi Floris Baratheon - Maple Helaena Targaryen - Sargent Maris Baratheon - Alyanna Coryanne Martell - Halo Aliandra Martell - Exel Rhaenys Targaryen - Meleys Lucerys Velaryon - SoloOtroRolero Daeron Targaryen - EtherealStar Steffon Connington - EtherealStar Cassandra Baratheon - Medialunita Ormund Hightower - Gerris William Royce - Gerris Borros Baratheon - Arctic Rhaenyra Targaryen - Yuna Sara Nieve - borealnyx Criston Cole - Harlan Hunter Joffrey Velaryon - Ardillaloca Qyle Martell - borealnyx Sabitha Vypren - Alesbosamente Garlan Tyrell - Enoee Margaery Tyrell - Bear Desmond Manderly - StrongBoi Benjen Stark - Showstopper Byron Swann - Muppet Erwin Lannister - CojoHermoso Qoren Martell - Caraxes Martyn Tyrell - LaRosa Corlys Velaryon - Elquenollegó Oscar Tully - Espada Cerelle Lannister - Briska Tyshara Lannister - Edith Finch Royce Caron - elViejoTio Jeyne Bulwer - Faith

CASAS / FAMILIAS

Karstark - Niña Indigo Mormont - Bear Peake - StrongBoi Dalt - VhagarNoo Redwyne - Briska Yronwood - MagicRules Celtigar - Exel Umber - Ishadriel Darklyn - Señor de la Plaga Rowan - Edith Finch Vance - Harlan Hunter Dondarrion - CojoHermoso Tarth - Misifú María Eugenia Dayne - Medialunita Farman - TheQueen Lannister de Lannisport - Pandora Bolton - Bolifacio Reyne - Elquenollegó Mooton - Bruma Oakheart - Rae Rogare* - Amanda Tarly - Phantom Ambrose - Hécate Fell - Lilacandviolet Drumm - Neurona Florent - Midnight Mallister - Woodswood Estermont - Halo Ashford - Bluemoon Largent* - PocholoTargaryen Mertyns - Norteña Wylde - TheKarpa Plumm - UnViserysPlumm Cerwyn - Freya Harte - Ponyo Farwynd - Gyda Reed - Roilys

PBS

Adam Driver - TheKarpa Katie McGrath - Espeon Skandar Keynes - bloody ben Emma Appleton - Niña Indigo Ewan Mitchell - Phantom Thimothée Chalamet - Simba Ben Barnes - Grey Tom Glynn-Carney - Grey Adelaide Kane - Scar Olivia Cooke - Scar Matt Smith - CanciónNoEsTwitter Cameron Monaghan- CanciónNoEsTwitter Elissa Bibaud- Bear Morgan freeman - Suco Rhys Ifans - Loyalty Michael Fassbender - Muppet Nick Slater - narciso Alex Hogh Andersen - DeusVult Aaron Taylor-Johnson - Lobo Leo Suter - StrongBoi Santiago Cabrera - VhagarNoo Charlie Vickens - VhagarNoo Kylie Bunbury - VhagarNoo Elle Fanning - Sargent Marta Gastini - Alyanna Morfydd Clark - Magic Rules Natalie Dormer - MagicRules Kaia Gerber - Halo Bruna Marquezin - Woodswood Jordan Patrick Smith - Ishadriel Sophie Turner - Edith Finch Jodie Comer - Edith Finch Hugh Jackman - Harlan Hunter Christian Bale - Harlan Hunter Chris Hemsworth - CojoHermoso Elliot Grihoult - SoloOtroRolero Dominik Sadoch - EtherealStar Alex Storm - EtherealStar Harry Lloyd - Fatbelly Tom Hiddleston - Fatbelly Sai Bennet - Rae Sadie Sink - Vma Jessica Chastain - Misifú María Eugenia Blance Soler - Medialunita Alexandra Daddario - Pandora Nicholas Galitzine - Bolifacio Thea Sofie Loch Næss - Bolifacio Jeanne Goursaud - Bolifacio Emilia Clarke - Dracarys Engin Ozturk- Apolo Charlie Hunnam - CojoHermoso Henry Cavill - Lilacandviolet Katheryn Winnick - Eris Millie Brady - Remedios Jonathan Rhys Meyer - Elquenollegó Kaya Scodelario - TheQueen Alexander Dreymon - Pandemonium Dayana Crunk - Brienne Anton Closmain - Ardillaloca Freya Allan - TheQueen Anya Chalotra - Niña Indigo Dove Cameron - Bruma Elizabeht Debicki - Amanda Luke Evans - PocholoTargaryen Lily James - Rae Daria Milk - Bear Tom Hardy - Phantom Eva Green - Carmilla Vanja Jagnic - Misifú María Eugenia Florence Pugh - Hécate Farah Zeynep Abdullah - TresPerlas Bradley James - Ishadriel Victoria Justice - Exel Peyton List - Exel Jannis Niewöhner - Showstopper Anne Hathaway - Ponyo Lucky Blue Smith - Mushroom Jarred Blakiston - Mushroom Lea Seydoux - Mushroom Matteo Martari - DeusVult Harry Gilby - DeusVult David Gandy - Caraxes Sam Heughan - Caraxes Michiel Huisman - Caraxes Zach McGowan - Neurona Clive Standen - ReyBuitre Meryem Uzerli - Midnight William Moseley - CojoHermoso Eve Best - Meleys Theo James - Bluemoon Alice Pagani - Halo Alexander Ludwing - Bluemoon Jason Isaacs - Elquenollegó Deva Cassel - Halo Karl Urban - TheKarpa Vika Bronova - Maple Jensen Ackles - Harlan Hunter Kennedy Walsh - PanConMermelada Sean Harris - PocholoTargaryen Alexandra Dowling - Norteña Leele Sonosekisk - Norteña Ruby Hartley - Norteña Mads Mikkelsen - TheKarpa Ruairi O'Connor* - Espada Scarlett Johansson - Wendy Travis Fimmel - Argon Hayden Christensen - UnViserysPlumm Frida Gustavsson - Freya Katya Miro - Medialunita Alina KovalenkoFreya Lili Johanson - Briska Katya Chertykova - Briska Angelina Michelle - Briska Anastasia Tsilimpiou - Edith Finch Abigail Cowen - Colorada Graham McTavish - elViejoTio Imogen Potts - Gyda Daneil Sharman - Roilys George Blagden - Roilys Felicity Jones - Faith Daisy Ridley - Magic Rules

#reservas #a dance with dragons

[ao3feed-tywin]

Wolf of the Hightower

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/gjoLzAa

by Louen_Leoncoeur

Jon Hightower, the son of the Eddard Stark and Lynesse Hightower for some three years, he has tarried in the eastern lands learning all that could be learned from the mysterious people, yet for all his adventures in him is a yearning for hearth and home, alas even he could not imagine what awaited him after so long away but it shall be an adventure to remember.

Words: 4467, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con

Categories: F/M

Characters: Jon Snow, Ghost | Jon Snow's Direwolf, Daenerys Targaryen, Tyrion Lannister, Cersei Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Arianne Martell, Tywin Lannister, Robert Baratheon, Renly Baratheon, Stannis Baratheon, Robb Stark, Catelyn Tully Stark, Ned Stark, Lysa Tully Arryn, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Bloodstone Emperor (A Song of Ice and Fire), Myrcella Baratheon, Loras Tyrell, Garlan Tyrell, Mace Tyrell, Olenna Tyrell, Tommen Baratheon, Joffrey Baratheon, Theon Greyjoy, Gregor Clegane, Sandor Clegane, Doran Martell, Brienne of Tarth, Davos Seaworth, Samwell Tarly, Randyll Tarly, Melisandre (A Song of Ice and Fire), Asha Greyjoy | Yara Greyjoy, Euron Greyjoy, Jon Connington, Young Griff (ASoIaF), Harry Strickland, Shiera Seastar, Ashara Dayne, Alerie Tyrell, Desmera Redwyne, Rhaenys Targaryen Velaryon, Sand Snakes (ASoIaF), Oberyn Martell, Baelor Hightower, Leyton Hightower, Garth Hightower, Paxter Redwyne, Mina Tyrell

Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow/Margaery Tyrell, Shiera Seastar/Jon Snow, Arianne Martell/Jon Snow, Desmera Redwyne/Jon Snow, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Ashara Dayne/Jon Snow, Jon Snow/Rhaenys Targaryen Velaryon, Myrcella Baratheon/Jon Snow, Jon Snow/Alerie Tyrell

Additional Tags: N Plus L Equals J, Jon Snow Deserves Better, Daenerys Targaryen Deserves Better, Incest, Drama, Betrayal, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dragons, R Plus L Does Not Equal J | Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen are Not Jon Snow's Parents, Canon Divergence - War of The Five Kings, Aged-Up Character(s)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/gjoLzAa

#ao3feed #fanfic #ao3feed tywin #ao3feed tywin lannister

[the-great-bbe]

How about something with Rhaenys/Garlan?

Setting: Regency Era!AU, “I have nothing to give but my heart so full and these empty hands.” “They're not empty now.”

Note: Marei of Oldstones is the Westerosi version of Marie de France, a 12th century poet whose work influenced the Arthurian Cycle. And yes, it was a common pastime for learned ladies to discuss the phallic imagery ever present in medieval romances lolol the tumblr instinct has been around for centuries

--

It begins as simple admiration. He is Margaery’s favorite chaperone, as Willas can’t keep up with her merry chases and Loras enables her chases to become proper misadventures. So he is the one that Mama sends to court when Margaery becomes lady companion to Crown Princess Rhaenys. And what a court it is—Queen Regent Elia rules with grace and glitter, and all the courtiers gossip enough to make dear Grandmama herself lean in. Here Garlan can train with the finest of knights, read from the royal libraries, discuss with like-minded lords and ladies about the progressive new laws that the Queen Regent is putting forward...

And then there is the Princess herself. 

Tall, with rich olive skin and black ringlets cascading down her back. Her face is soft and round, balanced by full lips and large eyes—oh, her eyes! Garlan has never seen such eyes outside of paintings, an impossible shade of black-violet. And when he first sees those eyes, she is smiling at him. He cannot help but smile back.

--

It’s not just that she is beautiful, of course. Her mind is a treasure beyond words. One day she and Grand Maester Tyrion have a three hour long debate about the origins of dragons in the courtyard. Garlan nearly swoons like a green maid to hear the strength of her arguments, the logic she wove like silk in a loom. And even Tyrion concedes defeat to her, as most people end up doing to the Crown Princess. When Rhaenys takes her leave to give her mother company, Garlan bows. “An excellent battle, Your Highness. I’ve never seen a Field of Fire through words alone before and yet we all are blown away.”

“Thank you, Ser Garlan.” She smiles and there’s faint dimples in her cheeks; the sight nearly makes Garlan swoon again! “Care to escort me to the Queen’s apartments?”

Of course. Her hand is a warm weight in the crook of his arm and truly, Garlan is surprised she is not betrothed yet. She is eighteen, of age to take the throne in her own right were it not for her father in the sanitarium on Dragonstone, and easily the loveliest creature on the gods’ green earth. Perhaps she will marry Lord Robb Stark for his bloodline, or Ser Joffrey Baratheon for his riches. Had Willas not eloped with Leonette Fossoway to Braavos he too would’ve been a contender. Grandmama will probably throw the Tarly girls at Garlan, or perhaps a girl from the Riverlands...

“Your eyes seem far away, Ser. Does anything trouble you?”

Garlan shakes himself. “It’s nothing, Your Highness. I’m simply wondering when I shall become an uncle.”

“Yes, I hope my wedding present to your brother Lord Willas and his wife Lady Leonette survived the ship to Essos.” Her gaze flickers away for a moment, then she squeezes his arm. “Join my lady mother and I for tea? Perhaps you can give your perspective on elopement, as my dear brother Aegon intended to run off with Shireen Baratheon in their “doomed romance” when we’d much rather just give them Summerhall.”

--

“Ser Garlan! Do join us!” Rhaenys sits on a large picnic blanket with Marg, a gaggle of other ladies and Rhaenys’s fearsome cat Balerion. Prince Oberyn, Rhaenys’s uncle and practical second father, keeps watch over them and nods at Garlan. They are in the shade of a gigantic plum blossom tree given as a gift from the Emperor of Yi-Ti, and there’s a few petals fallen into her hair. Unthinkingly, Garlan sits by her side and brushes them loose, and he shivers from the feel of her hair between his fingers. Rhaenys asks, “Tell us, have you read the words of Marei of Oldstones?”

“Yes, her poetry influenced the Arthurian Epic did she not?” Epic tales set in the Dawn Age of heroes and fair maidens and wretched monsters. Garlan remembers being still in leading strings, listening to Papa read him and his siblings a passage before bed each night. 

“We were discussing some of the themes in in the Epic and other tales of its kind.” Marg gives him a grin that sends a shiver down his spine. Gods, what is she up to now? “About the imagery of a knight rescuing a princess from a tower. What do you make of it?”

“I...”

Sansa Stark hides a giggle behind her folding fan. “It’s always a giant tower, so very large and impressive.” Then she and little Allyria Dayne dissolve into giggles.

Garlan tugs on his collar. Rhaenys is looking at him expectantly and he can’t ignore his future queen. But really! Marg is still grinning and Garlan narrows his eyes at her. Oh, he’ll get her for this. “It is quite a juxtaposition of imagery. As Lady Sansa said, the tower the knight must handle is always a tall and imposing one. Yet...”

“Yet?”

Garlan prays to the gods for guidance. “Yet the knight must enter the tower. So truly, what function is the imagery in this context?”

Walda Frey—Loras once called her Fat Walda at a feast and she gave him a split lip and a black eye, so now Garlan defers to her as the very best of Waldas—whispers to Marg, “Better than just scaling up and down its walls in its lonesome.”

The ladies giggle and Garlan wants to sink into the floor. Then Rhaenys laughs. “Well put! Thank you for indulging us.” She pauses, then cocks her head and Garlan wonders when the mild spring day got so warmer so quickly. “Indulge us again: do you prefer the sword, or the joust?”

“I prefer handling two swords at once, although I am no green boy when it comes to the joust.” Marg might just choke to death on her stifled giggles and Garlan hopes that she does! But there’s a hint of red to Rhaenys’s ears, and what mild flirtation ever hurt anyone? “At the next tourney, I’ll do my best to impress you.”

“Perhaps I’ll give you my favor as a good luck charm. We can’t have me being unimpressed, can we?”

Indeed, they can not. Garlan would love nothing more for her to admire him, as he admires her.

--

“Your Highness,” Garlan licks his lips, as they are as dry as a Dornish desert. His words catch in his throat. Then Marg in the stands motions at him to continue, Prince Oberyn himself sends him a wink...and he says, “I crown you, Princess Rhaenys, as my Queen of Love and Beauty.”

The crowd erupts into cheers. It was a very hard joust won, as Ser Jaime of the Kingsguard nearly dislocated Garlan’s shoulder and Lord Robb was no one to be trifled with. But at the end he threw even his brother Loras down to the dirt—as if his trick of using a mare would work on Garlan! Not after the tourney at Longtable where Garlan broke his nose!—and won the crown of jonquils and morning glories. They look so beautiful in Rhaenys’s hair, almost as beautiful as Rhaenys herself.

Rhaenys’s reply is nearly lost beneath the deafening roar, but Garlan hears it all too well. “I am honored and delighted to be crowned by such a noble and true knight as you.” And her favor, tied neatly around his arm beneath his armor, seems to catch alight.

He has nothing to offer her, other than this crown of flowers and his hand in the dances to come. He is a second son of a family with many mouths to feed, with no kingly descent or heirloom sword. She shall marry someone worthy to take his place at her side as Prince Consort, and he...he shall content himself with the feeling of her hand in his.

He bows over that lovely hand and kisses her knuckles. 

Later that night, after hours of dancing and feasting and laughing and chasing, he kisses her knuckles again. And again, and again, and again. Until Rhaenys pulls him up from his knees and kisses him with lips as soft as spring and rich as wine. Beneath that plum blossom tree with no one to witness them other than the moon and stars reflecting in her impossibly beautiful eyes, no other sound than their shared breath against each other’s lips and Garlan whispering “I think I’m in love with you.”

He kisses her before she can tell him they cannot be. He cannot bear it.

--

“Do you love my daughter, Ser Garlan?”

Garlan can hardly breathe before the presence of the Queen Regent Elia Martell. So much of Rhaenys’s bold beauty is from her mother, and the Queen Regent has decades of power behind her piercing gaze. But he is no liar. He jerks a nod. “With all my life, Your Majesty.”

She nods, as if it were a foregone conclusion. She is not wrong in that, as the entirety of Kings Landing must know that Garlan would gladly die for Rhaenys, and live for her as well. Even Papa knows, and Papa hardly knows anything! After an eternity of being sized up and raked over the coals of the Queen Regent’s eyes, she sighs. “You are not my first choice, but you are not my last. If my daughter consents to it, I give my blessing to officially court her.”

Truly? Truly?! Garlan gapes like an idiot, or perhaps some ill-bred fish. And the Queen Regent laughs; she sounds so much like Rhaenys. “I encourage you not to make that same face when you ask for her permission.”

Garlan, after bowing and scraping as much as he can without fainting, eventually leaves the royal solar. Marg immediately tackles him and cackles that her hopes have gone swimmingly, and her best friend shall be her sister. Then she pulls him along to gods know where while Garlan’s head reels.

He? To court Rhaenys? To hold her hand in his and not let it go? Garlan’s knees nearly give out, especially when Willas and Loras both clap their hands on his shoulders. “Grandmama will finally be proud of us, I think,” Loras boasts.

“Her Highness has not even consented yet!”

Marg rolls her eyes “Garlan, I love you, but you are as thick as molasses. Now go confess your love to her!” She practically shoves him towards Rhaenys’s plum blossom tree. “And kiss her! With tongue!”

He stumbles into the tree and nearly into Balerion. The cat blinks up at him to say he is a fool, then slinks away to a laughing Aegon’s arms. “Ser Garlan! Are you alright?”

“Y-Your Highness, I...” Garlan peeks around the tree to see Rhaenys on the other side, standing with something hiding behind her back. She catches his questioning gaze, and flushes a pretty red before revealing a knitted scarf. “For your brother, my princess?”

“For you, actually.” She bites her bottom lip before puffing herself up. “I intend to ask my lady mother the Queen Regent if we would be allowed to court. With your consent of course! I would never presume that you would wish to—”

“I was just given permission by Her Majesty to ask for your permission.”

They stare at each other for a moment, before Rhaenys giggles into her palm. Garlan melts, and finally asks, “Would you like me to court you, Your Highness?”

“Yes.” She presses the scarf into his hands, and leans up to murmur in his ear, “And please, call me Rhaenys.”

He shivers. “Rhaenys.” All is right with the world it seems, just from the sound of her name on his lips.

--

Garlan smiles despite the tears in his eyes. “Rhaenys, are you sure? I have nothing to give but my heart so full and these empty hands.” 

“They're not empty now.” Rhaenys squeezes their hands together.

Then she cloaks him in her house colors, and Garlan is hers, hers forever and always, just as he was always meant to be.

#rhaenys targaryen/garlan tyrell #asoiaf fanfiction #becky blue eyes #victorian au #yes i stole that quote from little women sue me #sunontherhoyne

[justanartsysideblog]

How do you see Rhaenys/Garlan Tyrell working in the King's Landing AU?

I think it could be a really interesting romance! Also I apologize that this took so long I really wanted to do a drabble for it but I keep getting about a paragraph or two in and then changing my mind.

Garlan is definitely Rhaenys’ type, physically speaking, and she has a weakness for people who have talents in areas she enjoys, such as swordsmanship. He also isn’t a glory seeker, which would work in his favor as well. He’d be someone that wouldn’t try and upstage her or get angry that she’s the Queen and he’d be Prince Consort. 

I like the idea of them meeting when he comes to court to visit his brother Loras, who is an intimate friend of Aegon and who Rhaenys also considers a friend. I think he grows up hearing about Rhaenys from Loras on his returns home to the Tyrell castle, and in his minds eye she’s a rambunctious little girl playing knight with his brother. 

He doesn’t focus on politics much, so he wouldn’t pay much attention to the news about Rhaenys’ reign, or how she’s strengthened infrastructure or settled disputes, etc.Those aren’t things that have ever interested him, because playing the Game is foolish to him, and that would be the only reason as a second son to pay attention to such things. He leaves the ladder climbing to his brother Loras, who enjoys being the center of attention.

Then Garlan visits King’d Landing and is shocked to see the woman he’d always pictured as a mischevious wild child chasing his brother with wooden swords, because she’s regal and queenly but there it is, that hint of a spark in her eye and the curve of her lips as she listens to her courtiers at dinner, and tells a witty joke that has Tyrion Lannister, her partner for the evening, laughing into his wine. 

There is no disgust in her eyes when she talks to him, despite how disfigured he is. Garlan knows that Loras had been promptly rebuked for calling him The Imp once, and that the title at court for Tywin Lannister’s youngest child is not spoken in her presence. She values her friendships.

And throughout his stay he just finds himself admiring her, and talking with her when she goes horseback riding with her brother and his companions.

He doesn’t feel like a simple second son, when she’s talking to him. He begins to understand it, the magnetic pull his brother had told him of. “When she focuses on you, you feel like you’re standing beneath the sun, and it burns but you can’t look away.”

He’s never wanted glory, but when the Grand Tourney is announced, he enters. He unseats his younger brother in the tilt, and the look of wounded pride on Loras’ face is an afterthought, as he pulls his horse to the edge of the royal box, and names Rhaenys the Queen of Love and Beauty with a garland crown of yellow roses, and she holds his gaze as she gives him her thanks.

There is a dragon lurking in those eyes, glittering violet flames that spark to the surface and threaten to engulf him, as the crowd roars approval. 

#rhaenys/garlan #rhaenys targaryen #garlan tyrell #king's landing au #just some thoughts #got a little drabble-y #I just like the image of garlan who doesn't take anything seriously #realizing he needs to be serious in regard to Rhaenys #Anonymous #cinn replies #answered ask

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Sea Salt: One

Summary: As a noblewoman from a small (and nefarious) kingdom in the Stepstones and quiet Lady-in-Waiting to Princess Elia Martell, she is accustomed to being looked through rather than looked at. The only exceptions to this rule are Prince Oberyn and Lord Willas Tyrell but they are often far from the dark shadows of the Red Keep or Dragonstone. She finds comfort in her quiet friendship with the princess and the delight of the darling royal children. But as Prince Rhaegar places a wreath of blue roses in the lap of Lady Lyanna Stark and rebellion starts to rage, she knows she will have to live up to her reputation. But luckily, she seems to have two allies lurking in the shadows.

Pairing(s): Eventual Willas Tyrell/F!Reader/Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand

Word Count: 10.2k (these are all going to be monster chapters. I apologize)

Rating for this chapter: T for a bit of violence. but not much. my over-use of italics and my love for ASOIAF lore. If you have any questions or need clarifications, please just ask! I’m playing fast and loose with a bit of it, and a few ages, too. But I’m always happy to answer any questions you have!

(banner by my darling @starlight-starwrites) 

Chapter One: The Salt of the Tears 

Or you can read on Ao3!

For all its supposed charms and storied history, Westeros had very few redeeming qualities. Most of the noblemen Y/N was forced to associate with during her time in the kingdom were filled with intolerable hubris and a lack of humor. They also liked to joke about her ‘little kingdom’ in the Stepstones as being inferior and nefarious—it would have been better if they could actually choose what they wanted to call her home. It seemed to be impossible to be both inferior and nefarious. And everything was so…bland this side of the Narrow Sea. She was used to Skilliga where people could trace their ancestries to Yi-Ti, the Summer Isles, the Bone Mountains, and beyond, all of them proud and varied. All of them fleeing the constrictions of their old lands and finding freedom in the islands and the homes they dug into the rock. They were proud to defend themselves in any way that was necessary and gained riches and notoriety with their famed corsairs. And, finally, the clothes were itchy and constricting and the food was largely unseasoned.

But there were a few bright spots in her time in the Seven Kingdoms. Mostly, it was Princess Elia Martell. Her nearest and dearest friend. Accepting the position had not truly been her decision anyway. She had been woken up by her uncle Hammond, the king of their little kingdom, nearly four years ago with him tossing a heavy scroll at her head.

“Tywin Lannister is offering to open up trade with Westeros again if you behave yourself at Court and marry some lord they choose. I’ve had your things packed. You leave at sunup.”

And Y/N knew that she was serving her kingdom by becoming a faceless peon for some pompous princess and then, perhaps, a broodmare for some strange man—but that did not mean she was going to be happy about it. In fact, she had been fully prepared to be the worst lady’s maid the Seven Kingdoms had ever seen…until Princess Elia.

Elia with her quick wit and soft smiles.

Elia with her musical laughter and unfailing loyalty.

Elia. The best friend she had never dreamed of ever gaining.

They would spend hours together in either her rooms or Elia’s chambers at Dragonstone, speaking of their lives before the Targaryens, laughing about the charades of courtly life, and dreaming about their futures.

“What type of queen will you be?” Y/N asked with a tease as they passed a jug of sweet grape juice between them. Rhaegar was out…somewhere, probably pondering some ancient prophecy that didn’t make any sense, and Y/N was happy to not have to pretend to care about anything that came out between his thin lips. “Quiet and mysterious?”

Elia laughed and shook her head. “I have had my fill of being quiet, I think. No. I do not want to be a quiet queen.”

“No? Then you may be the boisterous queen, always telling Tywin Lannister than his ideas are preposterous and he is not the true king of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Elia shushed her, fighting another bout of giggles and reached for the jug but knocked one of the numerous pillows from the bed, revealing a small blade atop the blankets. “Another one?” Elia asked with a huff. She handed the blade over with a frown. “Honestly, dear heart, you seem to think that everyone means you harm.”

Y/N took it and carefully hid it away in another place with a shrug of her shoulder. “I have met only three people who I would trust to not stab me through the heart when I’ve turned my back. It is better to be prepared than to be caught unaware.”

“Please tell me that you do not still keep half a dozen blades on your person when we go to court or the market.”

“Of course not.”

“Oh, good-”

“It is now a perfect dozen.”

Elia walloped her with a pillow, fighting another laugh. “You are a menace.”

“I am your most trusted confidante in this wretched city,” Y/N retorted, knocking the pillow away with a smirk. “You need better friends.”

Elia shook her head, still smiling. “You are enough trouble for several lifetimes, dear heart. You and Oberyn will be the cause of all my grey hair before Rhaenys reaches her fifth nameday, I am sure of it.”

Y/N smiled at the sound of the Dornish prince’s name. It had been too long since she had seen him. While he had been somewhat sent into exile after the suspicious death of Lord Yronwood, the youngest Martell had hopped across the Narrow Sea to become a sellsword for a moment after growing bored at the Citadel and visiting his sister at Dragonstone where he had met Y/N and she had somehow endeared herself to him. “He will be joining you for the tourney at Harrenhal, yes?”

The princess nodded. “It will be good to see him. I always hated knowing he was off in Essos.” Elia sighed before she glanced at Y/N. “And I’ve received word that Lord Willas will also be in attendance.”

“Do not.”

“Do not what?” Elia repeated, leaning closer to her friend with a conspiratorial smile. “I simply mentioned his name.”

“You know exactly what you are doing!” Y/N growled, knowing it would only mean Elia had won—as she always did.

Willas was the firstborn of Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden, and Lady Alerie Hightower. He’d been an only child for most of his life, his mother having trouble carrying to term several times before little Garlan was born over a decade later. And Y/N was very fond of Willas, just as he seemed fond of her. He was happy to make her laugh when he was at court, seeking her out when he should have been speaking with Rhaegar and gaining the crown prince’s favor for The Reach (not that it was necessary) or attending some vapid luncheon with other noblemen.

“He is a good man. And you deserve a good man.” Elia patted her shoulder, soft smile on her face.

“He is the heir to Highgarden-”

“Mama?” A quiet voice at the door had them turning to see little Rhaenys, rubbing her teary eyes. Her kitten, little Balerion, was sitting dutifully at his princess’ feet and quickly kept pace on his little legs when she walked into the room.

“Come here, sunshine,” Elia said, opening her arms toward her daughter and carefully scooping her up onto the bed. She gently pushed Rhaenys’ hair away from her damp cheeks and kissed her forehead. “Tell me what is wrong, my love.”

“Another nightmare?” Y/N asked. Balerion meowed until she bent down and helped him onto the bed where he quickly curled into a ball in the princesses’ laps.

Rhaenys nodded, a few more tears trailing down her cheeks. “It was scary, mama. A big dog came in and…” she hiccupped and Y/N felt her chest squeeze at the little girl’s pain.

Elia hummed and patiently waited for Rhaenys to finish telling her what she had seen in her dream. While the massive dog her mind had conjured scared her, it was the manticore that crawled from beneath her father’s bed that truly frightened her. Its vicious tail going straight for her throat over and over again until she woke up with little Balerion pawing at her nightgown, trying to stop her cries. “It is just a dream, sunshine. You are safe here. I will not let anything hurt you.”

Rhaenys sniffled and nodded but continued to hold her mother tight. “I know, mama. You and Lady Y/N will protect me.”

Y/N reached out and curled the lone strand of silver hair that Rhaenys had around her finger. “Of course we will, princess. Our world needs its Sunshine.”

The little princess finally turned her head out of her mother’s chest and smiled at Y/N, tears still gathering at the sides of her eyes. “I’m your sunshine, too?”

“You are,” Y/N said with a smile, gently tugging at silver strand before letting it curl back around her ear. “You are my sunshine, your mother’s sunshine, your grandmother’s sunshine, uncle Oberyn-”

“And father?” Rhaenys asked. “Am I his sunshine, too?”

“Of course,” Elia said and then kissed Rhaenys’ hair again. “Your father loves you very much.”

The three spoke in hushed tones for a little longer—just long enough for the little princess to fall asleep in her mother’s arms. Elia was careful as she slid off Y/N’s featherbed and kept her daughter in her grasp.

“I suppose it is time for us all to retire.”

Y/N nodded and offered to help put Rhaenys back to bed but was waved off by Elia, as she knew she would be. Elia was always fond of the little, quiet moments she stole with her daughter. Away from the pretenses of courtly life and the expectations of her husband’s father. This was Elia at her brightest, her strongest. When it was just her and her sunshine.

Y/N often wondered if she’d ever have moments like that—moments of soft reprieve from the trials of courtly life, either here in Westeros or back home in Skilliga, near the Stepstones in the Narrow Sea. She also wondered if Rhaegar would ever pull his head out of his ass and realize that Elia was his wife and not some thoughtless vase he could ignore and only pick up out of necessity. She wondered what the future held. For everyone.

But, whatever it did, she hoped it treated Elia well. It was what the princess deserved.

**

Y/N gently rubbed Elia’s back with a frown. It was the third time this morning that they had to have the wheelhouse stop so the princess could empty her rolling stomach. She quickly handed Elia a bit of juice and a damp cloth as she stood tall again with a wince.

“It was like this with Rhaenys,” Elia murmured, a hand cradling her stomach. The maester had confirmed she was with child again, the day before they set off toward Harrenhal for this stupid tourney. "You remember, don't you?"

Y/N did. And she worried then, too. But the Maester had also found that this would be Elia’s last pregnancy. Her body would not be able to handle another. And Rhaegar had only nodded once before turning and excusing himself from Elia’s chambers to play his stupid harp, looking out his chamber windows with a familiar (and consistently grating) pensive look on his face.

“The dragon must have three heads,” was all Y/N heard him say when she was eavesdropping on the conversation the husband and wife shared later that night. He was obsessed with some sort of prophecy. It was as if he didn’t care that his wife was of fragile health and pregnant with his child.

Y/N hated him.

Hated the stupid, silver-haired prince.

“We can stop for the day,” Y/N said. “It is not as if the tourney will be held up by your absence. You need your rest.”

Elia shook her head and told the wheelhouse driver to continue on and the large caravan started to move again. “The sooner we arrive, the sooner I can rest. You know I do not sleep well on the road.”

Rhaenys, the little sun, had slept through most of the travel, curled up on the velvet pillows on the other side of the wheelhouse, barely aware of any goings-on aside from when they stopped for the night or meals. And that was the way Elia preferred it, sheltering her daughter from courtly life and its trappings.

Elia reached out and patted her hand with a small smile. “It is worth it, dear heart.” She leaned back and shut her eyes for a moment. “I know when I hold this babe in my arms, all of this will seem like a distant memory. All of it…all of this is worth it.”

Y/N was not convinced. But she nodded anyway. “Tell me, do you think Ser Arthur will beat Rhaegar this time?”

Elia laughed.

**

The tourney was the largest the Seven Kingdoms had seen in generations. Ten days filled with jousting, melees, archery, axe-throwing, and horse racing. And feasting. Every night ended with a feast in Harrenhal’s great room, filled with piles of food and jugs of expensive wine and ale.

It was exhausting. And much too far from a substantial body of water for her to feel truly comfortable. She needed the sea, the water. Thankfully, Rhaenys also found the tourney lacking and was happy to accompany Y/N to the edge of the lake known as the God’s Eye and they enjoyed the chilled water and allowed the hungry fish to nibble at their ankles.

Y/N had grown up watching horse races, bet on boat races around the islands of Skilliga, and even participated in a few events herself. This tourney was…boring. Excessively so. Elia, more than once, had to nudge her to keep her from dozing in their box. Thankfully, the company was good.

Arthur Dayne was a kind man, a fine knight, a member of the fabled Kingsguard and Sword of the Morning. Y/N was sure they would sing songs of his deeds long after his soul had left. And he had the honor of knowing he was the crown prince’s dearest friend. (Y/N did not think this was an honor but did not voice that to the kind knight and tried not to hold it against him.)

But Y/N saw how his eyes softened whenever Elia would appear. His easy smile was near-permanent whenever she would whisper into his ear with some joke or story. He was in love. A soft, gentle love with a bedrock foundation. It was so different than the lukewarm platitudes Rhaegar dealt her within the confines of their marriage.

Maybe in a different life, Elia and Arthur could have lived a happy life in Dorne together. Far away from the Mad King’s machinations and paranoid delusions and Rhaegar’s apathy. But now, in this life, Arthur had to be content to simply stand at her back in their royal box when he was not participating in the tourney—right now he was readying for his turn in the melee and Elia had wished him luck before he departed.

Ser Lewyn, Elia’s uncle and knight of the Kingsguard, was another knight assigned to their box and they knew they could speak freely in his presence. He was a man of quick wit and fiercely protective of his niece and her baby. He was one of the few people who knew of Elia’s second pregnancy and was quick to have a servant fetch her something to eat or drink if needed. “And you are as lovely, as always, Lady Y/N,” Lewyn would say with a wink. He was such a flirt—but it was always in good humor. She knew him to have a lover in King’s Landing to whom he was devoted.

For the moment, Elia and Y/N were alone in their box, unguarded. She knew that anyone would be foolish to try anything but it still set her on edge when she noticed the fabric at the back start to sway with someone coming up. Her hand slowly slipped toward one of the small blades she kept in her boot but then she recognized the man slipping into the box. It was Oberyn—three days late and smirking. He winked at Y/N and pressed a finger to his lips before he snuck up on Elia and roared with laughter when she nearly leapt from her seat when his hands clapped over her shoulders. “You brute!” She yelled as she smacked his arm. “I have told you a thousand times to cease your sneaking!” But she laughed on the last word, betraying her happiness to see her younger brother.

Oberyn was just as dashing as he had always been, just as confident. And just as unattainable. He was more than a handful of years older than her and as much as his reputation preceded him, was very picky on whom he lathed attention.

She was too young for him. He has said so himself not a year ago at their last meeting when Y/N had all but thrown herself at him, too into her cups to stop herself.

“You have so much life ahead of you. I would not dare think I was worthy of usurping your time when you have the world at your feet.”

It was a gentle rejection, but a rejection all the same. He was a good man, leagues far and away from the men who would jump at a chance to bed a young highborn girl or take her to wife. But that did not mean her heart did not clench every time he smiled at her or whispered a joke in her ear at the expense of the tourney knights or an unrepentant letch of a lord who caught his eye between jousts. He told them of his adventures with the Second Sons and how he founded his own sellsword company, too, after he grew tired of the politics within the Sons’ hierarchy while Elia and Y/N told him of the ‘excitement’ of the tourney and the actual excitement of the appearance and disappearance of the Knight of the Laughing Tree just the day past. King Aerys, raging and paranoid, had even sent Rhaegar to find the mystery knight and unmask him but the dragon prince came up emptyhanded.

“And I see little Lord Willas is here,” Oberyn said, dipping his head just so to indicate the box opposite them, across the jousting grounds. Willas was sitting at his father’s side, the shining wood of his cane visible even from a distance as it leaned against the seat beside him.

It was only Y/N’s third day in the kingdom when she attended the tourney when the accident happened. She knew Willas to be too young to truly be participating, he was only a few years older than Y/N, but Lord Mace Tyrell had pushed him. When Oberyn met him on the field, it was an accident. A tragic accident. Willas’ leg was crushed beneath his horse and Oberyn had been mortified, sending the Dornish healers he’d brought with him to the tourney to care for the young lord.

But the damage had been done.

Willa’s leg was in constant need of a brace and he walked with a cane. The Tyrells blamed Oberyn for crippling their heir. Well, most of them did. Willas bore no ill-will toward Oberyn and was often seeking him out when they were both present. “I am not sure if it is to spite his father or to truly try to mend the divisions between Dorne and The Reach all on his own.”

“I believe he seeks out your attentions because he enjoys you as much I do, my prince. Willas is not the sort to have ulterior motives when it comes to his companions or friends. If he did, I assume he would tolerate our dear Rhaegar’s presence a bit more,” Y/N mused as she half-heartedly clapped for the nameless, faceless victor of that round. She had stopped paying attention ages ago.

Oberyn huffed at that and turned to look at Willas and he caught the lord’s eye.

Willas raised his hand in greeting, a soft smile on his face—until Mace grabbed his wrist and all but shoved his son’s hand back down.

Y/N did not stop the laugh that bubbled out of her throat, even as Elia nudged her.

“He does blush such a pretty pink,” Oberyn mused, earning himself a nudge from Elia, too. “Do you think he will finally ask you to dance tonight, little shark?” He winked with the well-worn nickname, stemming from her house’s sigil of a large, white shark.

Y/N quickly turned in her seat to stare at Elia who looked away, a sly smile on her face. “Please tell me you did not speak to your brother about Willas.”

“I have no idea what you are insinuating, dear heart.”

“Willas is a good man, little shark. But you will have to contend with his family if you finally allow him to court you.” Oberyn patted her knee. “You will need every bit of your Skilligan strength to stop yourself from killing them.”

“Hush, Oberyn. They are not all terrible.”

“You, dear sister, are the soon-to-be Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms. It would be improper to think of you as anything other than the Realm’s Sun.” Oberyn smiled as Elia rolled her eyes. “I am the man who crippled their heir.”

“Willas does not believe it was your fault. We just need for Mace Tyrell to die and Dorne and The Reach will once again be fair weather allies. Olenna and Alerie are much more agreeable.”

“I could help,” Lewyn said as he stepped back into the box, carrying a sleeping Rhaenys. The two had slipped away from the festivities when the little princess complained of a headache and her great-uncle had been happy to shepherd her away for some rest in the shade and a bit of juice. Elia easily took her daughter into her arms and let her continue to sleep against her chest.

“A kind offer, uncle. But Oberyn is simply continuing to be the most dramatic of Martells.”

Lewyn reached forward and bopped his nephew on the head with a smirk. “I know.”

**

The day gave way to night and they were once again shuffled off to the Great Hall of Harrenhal for the night’s feast and dancing. Ashara Dayne, Arthur’s sister and another companion to Elia, joined them at their table, looking a little flustered as her pretty purple eyes kept jumping toward a table near the door where a small grouping of Northmen were seated.

“Which one has caught your eye?” Y/N whispered to her, trying to figure out which solemn-faced man captured her attention. Ashara was a romantic, always singing love songs to Rhaenys before her afternoon naps. She was kind-hearted and sweet, if not a little shy. Y/N enjoyed her company and how she cared for Elia. That was all that truly mattered anyway.

“The quiet one,” Ashara murmured.

“They are all quiet,” Elia said in return, also trying to figure out which one Ashara was speaking about. “Except for that she-wolf. She seems fond of making noise. I heard she thoroughly beat a handful of men for attacking that little Crannogman.”

“And then the Knight of the Laughing Tree beat them again at the joust,” Y/N muttered, thinking aloud. “Curious.” She turned to Elia. “Tell me, was the she-wolf in her box when that knight took his turns at the joust?”

Elia looked at her with a frown. “What are you implying, dear heart?”

“I do not know,” Y/N said with a shrug but then her eyes narrowed on one of the Starks at the table and poked Ashara. “That one? With the dour expression?”

“He is not dour.” It was nearly a pout. “He is just…quiet.”

Elia hummed and nodded. “Hm. Yes. The Quiet Wolf. I believe his name is Eddard. His brothers call him Ned. Is that right?”

Ashara’s cheeks bloomed with color and she looked away. “Yes, his name is Ned.”

Elia and Y/N teased their friend a little longer before the night’s festivities started and the people splintered off for dancing or singing or drinking contests—Robert Baratheon was the current champion of that impromptu tourney. Elia wanted to listen to music and had Y/N and Ashara move with her to one of the smaller chambers where they could hear someone plucking at a harp’s strings.

What they saw when they arrived was not entirely welcome.

Rhaegar was sitting on a bench, his familiar harp across his lap, and the she-wolf beside him with tears in her eyes as he sang a sad song they had all heard hundreds of times. (It was not as if he could write songs himself.) The young girl was clearly besotted with the prince.

“Princess,” Ashara murmured, turning toward Elia, trying to shield her from the sight. “I do believe Arthur is in the next room over. You promised him a dance, did you not?”

Y/N watched Elia straighten her shoulders and press a practiced smile to her face. “Yes, I believe I did. I could definitely benefit from a bit of revelry anyway.”

And one dance turned into two and then three as Arthur coaxed smiles from Elia that had Y/N releasing a breath she did not know she was holding.

She could kill Rhaegar, should kill him. She didn’t care if she was sent to the Black Cells for the rest of her life or if her head wound up on a spike—if it meant Elia was free. Free to love her babies without reproach for not looking Valyrian. Free to love whom she pleased (probably Arthur). Free to laugh and smile and dance. Free.

That was all Y/N wanted for her friend.

She watched the quiet wolf’s brother, Brandon she thought his name was, approach Ashara and point out Eddard who seemed to be trying to hide behind his tankard of ale with a vibrant blush on his cheeks. Ashara quickly made sure that Y/N was fine on her own before letting the elder Stark wave his brother over and they slowly, adorably started to dance. She watched from for a while and then spotted Elia now dancing with Lewyn with a sleepy Rhaenys balanced on her hip, too.

A quiet, rhythmic tapping of wood against stone caught her attention over the din of the music and she turned to see Willas stepping to stand at her side, a small smile on his face. “My lady,” he said with a tip of his head.

“My lord,” she replied with a smile of her own and a small curtsey. “It is good to see you again. Dragonstone and King’s Landing are far less agreeable since you were called back to Highgarden.”

Willas smiled, tucking his chin a bit. “I would prefer to be at your side, even if it is in that snake pit.” Y/N patted the seat beside her but he shook his head and held out a hand toward her. She didn’t comment on how his fingers shook. “I cannot dance, not truly, anyway. But I would be honored if you allowed me the honor of spending the next song with you.”

The smile that crept across her face could not be stopped and she quickly placed her hand in his and stood as the last beats of the song started. They took their position toward the edge of the floor, trying to keep to themselves as the next song started. And it was true, they could not truly dance. His leg could not accommodate the stomps and hard turns the song called for—but it was okay, because she had not taken the time to memorize the steps anyway. Instead, they swayed in time with the beat, taking an occasional turn to step to the side, ignoring how some onlookers clicked their tongues or whispered behind their hands about how ridiculous they might look.

“Tell me, how is Highgarden?”

“It is just as lovely as I have said before. My father is insisting on building a new aviary for my next nameday.”

“I assume this is because you mentioned once that you wanted to take up hawking? Hm?” She asked with another grin.

“He wants, so desperately, for me to be some sort of great man. Fit for song and legend. I think I will only continue to disappoint him.”

Y/N stopped her uneven swaying and simply squeezed his hands. “You are not a disappointment, Willas. You are the most intelligent man I have met and you are a capable man—capable of ruling HIghgharden in a way worthy of song. You do not need to be a warrior for that. I do believe that the world needs more smart, kind men. Like you.”

Willas sighed and shook his head. “You are too kind, my lady. But I do doubt that my father will be convinced of your reasoning.”

“Well, perhaps it is better that you are your grandmother’s favorite instead of your father’s. Your mind can and should be your greatest asset, Willas. It is one of the things I admire most about you.”

He finally looked up at her, another shy smile on his lips. “You admire me?”

“Of course. How could I not?”

His pale cheeks flooded with color and he nearly stumbled on the next step but quickly righted himself but stopped moving, holding her hands just a bit tighter. “My lady, I… Y/N…I was hoping if you would give me the honor of-”

Y/N nearly fell as someone collided with her back and Willas’s cane slapped to the floor in a clatter, gaining too much attention for Willas to continue.

Y/N turned to see some Northern lord—Roose Bolton, if she remembered correctly—sneering at her and Willas.

“Careful, my lady.” His voice was low and deep and might have been soothing to listen to if his pallid and angular face did not betray the complete lack of soul beneath his skin. She had only one other interaction with him and it had been on the tourney fields just before the first joust and he had been sneering with a few of his bannermen about how the Dornish knights must be tiny men with how small their horses seemed. (Of course, the Dornish Sand Steeds were smaller, but they were also faster and more durable than the horses these Northern lords were so fond of and could outlast them for days. Y/N had laughed heartily when Roose had been unseated by a Dornish knight not yet past his five-and-ten nameday.)

Willas huffed as Roose walked away and shook his head. “I will never understand that man. But if he was half as handsome as he was clever, the Realm would be in peril. I do not trust him.”

“I cannot say I enjoy his presence either.” She brushed away her discomfort and turned back to Willas, trying to press a smile onto her lips. “But what were you saying?”

Willas opened his mouth and was quickly interrupted again by Ashara, who did look apologetic to her credit, tugging at her sleeve. “Princess Elia requires our presence, my lady.”

She turned back to see Willas sigh before he nodded once. Before Y/N could excuse herself, he grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “I will find you again, my lady. Please enjoy the rest of your night.”

Y/N squeezed his hand before letting it drop back down to her side. She wished him well with her heart a little heavier in her chest, and let Ashara lead her back toward Elia who was standing with Lewyn and Oberyn and clutching a sleeping Rhaenys to her chest. But that was not what bothered her. No. It was the tears in Elia’s eyes and how Oberyn seemed ready to run his sword through anyone who looked at him incorrectly. “What is it? What has happened?”

Oberyn turned to her, teeth bared in a snarl. “The Mad King has once again let his thoughts be known that Rhaenys is too Dornish for his tastes.”

“She woke from a nightmare and I took her to her mother,” Lewyn explained. His large hand was pressing against Rhaenys’ back and Elia’s hands, a warm grounding force. “His Grace was nearby and little Rhaenys waved at him—she knows him as her grandfather.”

“Of course she does. Rhaenys’ heart is much too big.”

“And he turned his lip up at her and called her a…” Elia sniffled and held her daughter tighter. “A burnt leaf on the Targaryen tree. He said the only reason he knew she was his son’s daughter was the bit of silver hair she had.”

“How cruel!” Y/N exclaimed before turning to Lewyn. “Tell me no one heard him. Tell me that king of yours did not say this in front of anyone but you.”

And Lewyn’s answering silence was heartbreaking. He only continued to hold Elia and Rhaenys a little closer, a shallow consolation.

“The room was filled with people. Even the prince was there—he said nothing to stop his father’s tirade. Against his own daughter!” Oberyn was raging.

“Did Rhaenys know what he was saying?”

Elia shook her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “No. She only thinks the best in people, my little sunshine. She was happy to be called a leaf.”

Y/N sighed and stepped forward to wipe the tear from her friend’s cheek and press a kiss to the sleeping child’s head. “The old man’s time is coming. I promise you that.”

“Y/N!” Ashara hissed. “You cannot say such things.”

“I will say such things when he says such things. Damn my uncle’s trade agreement. Damn it all. I will kill a king. I will do it.”

“No, no, dear heart. I cannot ask that of you—nor you, Oberyn,” Elia said, watery eyes cutting toward her brother. “I need you both at my side to handle whatever comes next.”

**

What came next, however, was Rhaegar winning the jousting tourney, with Elia’s favor hanging on the handle of his lance. There was a stupid tradition of the victor crowning a woman the ‘Queen of Love and Beauty’ and giving them a crown of blue roses. Y/N expected for Rhaegar to place the small bunch of flowers on Elia’s lap and be done with it.

But no.

The silver-haired prat rode right by his wife and laid the wreath in the lap of the she-wolf, Lyanna Stark.

All the smiles died.

Elia grasped Y/N’s wrist as she moved to stand, keeping her seated. “Your anger is appreciated. But I would not have more eyes on me for my husband’s indiscretions.”

It did nothing to quell the rage she felt burning in her throat. But she could be quiet. “I have Sweetsleep in my bag.”

“Y/N,” Elia snorted and shook her head. “No.”

“You’re right. Tears of Lys would be a better suit for his crimes against you.”

Elia finally uncurled her fingers only to tangle them with her friend’s as she managed a small smile. “You make me smile. Even when my heart is full of sorrow.”

Y/N’s kissed her friend’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You deserve to smile, Princess. I will gladly play the fool if it makes you happy.”

Elia nodded and patted her hand. “I know, dear heart. I know it very well. But I…” the words died on her tongue as she turned to look around the box and found it lacking… “Oberyn.”

But Oberyn was already gone.

“Find him,” Elia whispered in a rush. “Before he does something rash. Stop him.”

Y/N instantly shot to her feet and darted out of the box in search of the Dornish prince. Luckily, it did not take long for her to find him, he was only a few paces away with his spear in hand.

She reached out and grabbed Oberyn’s arm and pulled him to a stop. “You cannot, my prince.”

“He has dishonored my sister in front of the entire kingdom. You cannot think to stop me from taking vengeance.”

“Elia said no. Would you hurt her further? You would be caught and executed and she and little Rhaenys would be as well. You know the Mad King’s wrath knows no bounds.”

Oberyn’s shoulders slumped but his teeth remained bared. “You are both too kind.”

“I offered to put Tears of Lys in his wine. I am not kind. But I would not make Elia suffer more than she already has.” She paused and watched Oberyn nod, appeased—for now. “Come, let us try to make our princess smile, hm?” Oberyn was breathing hard and Y/N pressed her hands against his chest, trying to help him breathe a little easier. “Calm—for now, at least, my prince. Breathe with me.”

He nodded and pulled in a few deep breaths through his nose and his grip on his spear loosened just a fraction. Oberyn leaned forward and brushed a kiss against her forehead. “Despite what you think of yourself, you are gentle hearted, little shark.”

“I know I am the worst sort of woman to have at your sister’s side, apparently. Always ready to murder if it would make her smile. Hardly well-mannered, too.”

“On the contrary, little shark. You are the best friend I could ever hope for her to have.”

**

The road back to Dragonstone was quiet, thankfully. Rhaegar had ridden ahead of their wheelhouse, not looking at his wife for longer than a few moments and kissed Rhaenys on her head before he set off.

It was for the best, probably. Y/N was not sure she could have stopped herself from murdering him if the opportunity presented itself—and it was always so easy for ‘bandits’ to attack a travelling party.

Oberyn was only able to accompany them so far before he had to divert his path—he had been called back to the sellsword he founded to deal with a contract dispute.

“I do not have to go,” Y/N heard him whisper to Elia the night before he left. “I can stay with you, Rhaenys, the baby. I can stay at your side.”

“I will be fine, Oberyn. I can handle this.”

“I know you can. But I don’t want you to do it on your own.”

“I’m not on my own.”

The wheelhouse hit a bump and Y/N made sure the sleeping princess on her lap didn’t jostle too much. It seemed that Rhaenys could sleep through almost anything. Even if her dreams were becoming increasingly erratic. The last night of the tourney, just a handful of hours after her father crowned a woman who was not her mother, Rhaenys had woken up in tears, babbling about dragons and fire and clouds of snow that never stopped. Elia had hummed her old lullaby until her daughter fell asleep again and it broke Y/N’s heart.

The two women she loved most in the world were hurting and there was nothing she could do about it.

“You’re good with her,” Elia said, a hand over her stomach. “And she adores you.”

Y/N smiled and curled her finger around the errant strand of silver again. “I adore her. I can only hope that if I ever have children, they are half as well behaved as her. She is wonderful, Elia. Your little sunshine.”

Elia smiled and drummed her fingers against her stomach. “I can only hope that this one is less troublesome as they come into the world.”

“I will be with you every step of the way.”

“I know, dear heart.”

And Y/N silently said a prayer to her gods—and then said another to the Seven that Elia was fond of, too—hoping for the best. Wishing for good health for Elia and her babe.

But her prayers were not answered.

Elia’s sickness continued and lingered as her pregnancy progressed and then King Aerys demanded Elia give birth within the ‘safe haven’ of the Red Keep in King’s Landing. He did not care that travel was not advisable in her condition. He did not care that Rhaenys was not sleeping well lately.

The Mad King cared for nothing and no one aside from himself. It was glaringly apparent.

It was just another reason for Y/N to hate these stupid Seven Kingdoms. She missed Skilliga. She missed how she could hear the ocean from every room in her family’s home, a massive, sprawling fortress carved into the steep rock face of the fractured islands—just like every other castle and fortress in their kingdom. She missed how clean the air was in her kingdom—smelling sea salt and fog. King’s Landing smelled of piss and moldy bread. Dragonstone was not home, not really, but it was far better than the city—and she feared far less for her friend there than she did at the capitol.

But she kept her mouth shut and held Elia’s hand as little Aegon came screaming into the world with a few strands of silver hair already crowning his head. But Elia was even more delicate after the birth, frequently needing to rest and seeking the guiding hand of healers who supplied her with calming teas and cooling balms. Y/N felt the exhaustion and relief rolling off her friend in waves as Aerys proudly presented his grandson to court, proclaiming him the heir to the stupid pointy chair. All of this made no sense to Y/N. Rhaenys was born first—did it truly matter that she was a girl? Women were set to inherit just as much as men in Skilliga—it simply mattered who was born first.

Oberyn had proudly told her that it was the same custom in Dorne—but the other six kingdoms in Westeros did not follow those rules.

And while the court celebrated the birth of another heir, Rhaegar took it upon himself to remind his wife that, “the dragon must have three heads,” before he kissed Elia’s brow and set off toward the vast library—again.

Arthur, however, hovered between dutifully following his prince and friend and staying at Elia’s side. The rigidity in her posture let those who knew her best know she was close to tears even though her smile had not moved from her face as she watched Queen Rhaella happily parade her grandson around the throne room, letting her ladies maids ooh-and-ahh over the new prince.

“Go, Arthur,” Elia eventually murmured. “I know he needs you.”

The famed knight’s shoulders dropped just a fraction before he bowed the slightest bit, excusing himself and walked away.

But Y/N was not done, feeling something bubbling her gut as she watched him near the door and she slipped away and pulled him to a stop.

“My lady?” Arthur said, eyebrows scrunched together as he looked at her hand on his arm.

“Ser Arthur, if you love her, as I know you do, protect her. Do right by her, by her beautiful children. Try to make Rhaegar see reason. See that his wife is good and gentle and all he needs.”

Arthur, proud, sweet Arthur, nearly crumpled at that and he nodded—just once—before turning and walking away.

“What did you say to him?”

Y/N turned at the sound of the small voice to see Prince Viserys looking up at her with hard, lilac-colored eyes. It must have been a miracle for him to escape the ever-present Septa and guard at his side—Aerys and Rhaella seemed to be hellbent on protecting their second son from some unseen threat. “I told him to make sure your brother stays out of trouble, princeling.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“And I don’t think that matters. Your mother will be looking for you.”

His thin lips pulled into an even thinner line but he nodded and walked away.

Apparently the Targaryen family was filled with presumptuous little pigeons. Truly, the only ones Y/N truly liked were Rhaenys (who was more of a Martell anyway) and Rhaella (whom she rarely saw as she was constantly nursing healing bruises and cuts from her husband’s ‘attentions’.) And she was sure Aegon would take after his mother too, making him another one of the few the Seven Kingdoms did not deserve. But Y/N pushed that thought out of her mind as she discovered Elia, still cradling Aegon, weeping in her chambers that night. A bit of parchment was set beside her on her undone featherbed and Y/N hurriedly tried to stop her tears, to know why her dearest friend was crying, but Elia only pointed a finger at the parchment and silently told Y/N to read it.

The seal of a snarling wolf was stamped on it with a wax seal and she could already feel herself growing angry.

The missive was short. But it said enough. It was from the she-wolf, Lyanna Stark. She was responding to the raven Rhaegar must have sent earlier—stating that she would meet him in the Riverlands in just a few moons’ time and that she was excited to be at his side, and away from her oaf of a betrothed, Robert Baratheon.

Y/N crumpled the note and threw it into the roaring hearth.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Elia sniffled and shook her head. “You cannot. I will not have my babies grow up without a father.”

“And I cannot have him shame you so. You deserve more than this pompous little lizard can give you—crown prince or not.”

Aegon fussed in his mother’s arms but quieted as Elia pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Rhaegar told me that he must have three. The prophecy he’s been obsessed with since he was a boy demands it, he believes. Something about the prince who was promised.” Aegon’s little hand reached up toward his mother and Elia caught it, letting his fingers wrap around her as she kissed his thumb with a watery smile. “The wolf girl—she will sate Rhaegar’s need for a third baby.”

“This prophecy he believes in is madness,” she hissed. “I will not allow him to treat you like this-”

“It is done, dear heart. He has made his decision.”

“Have you made yours?”

“What choice do I have?” Elia asked with a mirthless laugh. “He is the crown prince and I am-”

“A princess of Dorne. Mother of his two children.”

Elia waved her hand and looked down at her son. “All I want in this world is for my children to be happy.” She sighed, shoulders sagging under an invisible weight. “It is not the wolf girl’s fault. Rhaegar can be very persuasive. I hold no ill will toward her.”

“And toward Rhaegar?”

Elia’s beautiful eyes cut to her before falling down to her lap. She did not answer.

“The offer still stands for me to kill him, you know.”

“I know, dear heart. And I thank you for it. But I need you by my side. I know the times ahead will be turbulent. The Realm has not had a king with more than one queen since Maegor the Cruel.”

“He means to marry her?” Y/N hissed. The anger she felt bubbling grew hotter as Elia nodded and wiped at her cheeks.

“We shall both be his queens, I suppose.” Elia paused and sniffled once more. “I could love the child she bears Rhaegar as my own.”

And that took the wind from Y/N’s sails in an instant. Plans for a slow murder evaporate and she crossed the room to sit at Elia’s side, her hands coming up to rest on her friend’s shoulders, mindful of the babe in her arms. “Your heart was always too big,” Y/N said. “And I shall be at your side until the end of my days.”

**

Dragonstone was a welcome reprieve from King’s Landing. She could truly smell the sea again, leeching a bit of the tension from her shoulders. It was even more of a respite when Rhaegar left (again). He had been playing his stupid harp and looking even more melancholy than usual before he kissed Rhaenys and Aegon on their little heads and bit Elia farewell.

Y/N knew what he was setting off to do—the little She-Wolf waited for him.

And she also knew that Arthur had finally confessed his repressed feelings for Elia and had gently kissed her under rising sun before he was called away by an unsuspecting and unknowing Rhaegar who waited for his trusted friend at the gates of the castle. She had spied it from her chamber window and had not told Elia what she had witnessed, only noting that she was fond of smiling that day. The smiles continued as Elia received ravens from Oberyn and Willas, filled with words of congratulations for her new babe and well wishes for her and her growing family. “And Oberyn wants you to know that you are not allowed to be Aegon’s favorite as you are Rhaenys’—he has deemed it selfish and he will challenge you to a duel if it seems that Aegon prefers your company to his when he visits next.” Elia laughed and showed her the slip of parchment with Oberyn’s flourishing handwriting.

“And Willas wishes for me to give you his best, and hopes that you remember your dance at the tourney as fondly as he does.” Y/N tried to pull the parchment from Elia’s fingers but it was jerked away at the last moment as Elia laughed. “Oh no, dear heart. I am going to keep this to read when you have babies of your own our dear little Willas!”

But the smiles would not last.

It started as whispers than grew to a scream. Lyanna Stark had disappeared with Rhaegar Targaryen. Was she kidnapped? Had she gone willingly? Elia had tried to dissuade the Stormlands from taking up arms against the crown, led by a ‘hurt’ Robert Baratheon, but Y/N surmised that the ravens the princess had sent had gone unheeded. The Baratheons wanted blood and they would have it.

And that meant that the paranoia of the Mad King was now proving prophetic.

Aerys had killed two Starks and wanted the heads of the others who were leading the Northern infantry toward the Trident. He wanted Jon Arryn to send him the head of his former ward, Robert Baratheon as a show of loyalty.

Arryn refused.

War raged.

Aerys called Elia back to the capitol.

“He is only doing this to make sure Dorne stays loyal,” Elia whispered to Y/N as they lay together in Elia’s bed as a storm raged outside. “But House Martell keeps its promises—there is no need for threats. No need to keep me and my babies as hostages.”

Tears slipped down Elia’s cheeks and Y/N gently wiped them away. “I will protect you, Elia. I promise you that.”

**

The sail of the ship was emblazoned with the sigil of House Redwyne—Willas’ grandmother’s house. The stupid burgundy grapes on blue cloth had never been a more beautiful or welcome sight.

Willas.

Her dear, sweet Willas had heeded her call. And now it was time for Y/N keep her loved ones safe. She had a sleeping Rhaenys (and tiny Balerion) in her arms and Elia had a fussing Aegon in hers as they slipped from Elia’s rooms and took the servants’ stairs down to the courtyard and toward the seldom-used docks on the north side of the fortress as thunder rolled overhead with a coming storm. The stone steps had weathered away and the wooden ladder down to the dock had been washed away ages ago. Y/N had to hand Rhaenys to her mother for a moment before she jumped down to the dock and took the sleeping girl back into her arms.

The Redwyne ship was nearly there. Their sails had been pulled down, letting them look like unmarked and unnoticeable trade ships.

“Princess Elia?” A voice boomed in the dark.

Elia looked back toward the castle and then down at Aegon, her grip tightening. Rhaenys stirred in Y/N’s arms and opened her eyes, little brow furrowing at the commotion around her. Y/N carefully set her down on the dock, holding her hand tightly before turning back to Elia.

“You can make it, Elia. Just jump. I will catch you!”

Another shout of her name had Elia looking backward.

“Elia!” She hissed. “We must go!” It would only be a matter of time before someone discovered the three bodies Y/N had dropped to clear the way for the little family. They never saw her or her hidden blades coming in the dark.

But Elia was frozen and the shouts of her name grew louder. Slowly, so slowly, Elia’s head turned and with a flash of lightning, Y/N saw what she was looking at: a fleet of ships blazoned with the three-headed Targaryen sigil headed toward the eastern dock.

They had come.

Elia turned, still clutching Aegon to her chest. She kissed him once more before pressing him down into Y/N’s arms. “Go. Go now before they catch you. Protect my babies.”

“We can make it! Elia, please-”

“Mama!” Rhaenys cried. “Mama!”

“Go, my sunshine. Remember, I will always love you.”

Y/N looked out to see the ships were docked and a small army had come to take Elia and her children away to King’s Landing.

“Princess Elia, you have been commanded by King Aerys to present yourself and your children in court immediately.”

She had to go.

Her choice had been made.

**

The Redwyne sailors were accommodating to the two crying babes and frazzled, foreign woman on their decks as they sailed toward Skilliga. They made sure they were settled in the captain’s quarters and left them with a bit of water and berries before mentioning that, “Lord Willas hopes you will write to him when we arrive at Skilliga.”

The captain had the good grace to look a bit ashamed before excusing himself.

“Where’s Mama?” Rhaenys asked as she snuggled down into the well-worn blankets of the small bed.

“She is…visiting your grandfather.” The words were bitter on her tongue and she pulled the blankets a little higher to Rhaenys’ chin and kissed her hair. “Get some sleep, sunshine.”

“What about Aegon?” Rhaenys asked, eyes fighting to close.

“I will make sure he gets some sleep, too.”

Content with that answer, Rhaenys nodded and finally let her eyes fully close. And after checking on the little prince, tucked away in a bassinet made of a half barrel and a mound of blankets—a far cry from the golden crib he had at Dragonstone, she let herself cry.

**

Rhaenys was fond of how her voice echoed in the halls of her temporary home. She would laugh and sing and talk and just listen to it echo as little Balerion circled between her feet. And that gave Y/N a small bit of joy, to know that Rhaenys was still able to smile—even if she asked for her mother every time she work and every time she was tucked into bed. Even if the little princess still screamed with terrible dreams filled with fire and ice almost every night.

Aegon was a happy baby, content to be in Y/N’s arms and babble at the dolphins and sharks he could see from the fortress’ windows.

It was good to be home. Truly, it was. The sound of the sea and the scent of its salt were a balm to her fraying nerves but it was lacking something now—lacking Elia.

Every night, Y/N would pray to each and every god and goddess she could think of to keep Elia safe. To let her come back to her babies. To live the life she wanted to when this rebellion was over.

Every night.

But, again, her prayers were unanswered.

Hammond slipped into her room before the sun rose nearly a year since their escape from Dragonstone and gently woke her by rubbing at her shoulder, like he had done thousands of times before. He had been her father, her only parent, since her parents died of a simple sickness when she was twelve. And now, it seemed, it fell to him to be that parent again.

“I have to tell you something, Y/N. I am so sorry.”

The words rang in her head, echoing over and over again as he continued to tell her what had happened in Westeros. News had reached their little kingdom that Aerys was dead. Rhaegar had been beaten and killed at the Trident. Robert was King. And Elia had been murdered.

“A-are you certain?” She asked, the words strangling the breath from her lungs. “Surely it cannot be-”

“They said the Lannister men presented her body to Robert, rolled in a red curtain.”

A sob wrenched its way out of her throat as she crumpled back into her blankets. Gone. She was gone.

Her uncle let her cry for a moment, sitting on the edge of her bed like a stalwart guard until she caught her breath.

“But there is some strange news, too. It seems the Lannister men thought they needed to prove the Targaryens were dead. Two little bodies were presented to the Usurper too. They claimed they were little Rhaenys and Aegon.”

“What? What? I-”

“Only you, it seems, knew that Elia had come to the capitol alone. They must’ve killed a poor kitchen maid’s children, thinking they were the prince and princess.” His roughened hand gently wiped at her cheeks. “I sent you to that wretched kingdom in hopes that we could strengthen our alliance, grow our fortunes. I am sorry. I am so sorry.”

And Y/N could only cry.

**

It was only a handful of moons later that a servant came into Y/N’s rooms and announced that a strange man had demanded Y/N meet him on the small island off the shore of her family’s fortress, the only island outsiders could land on safely.

Y/N knew it was stupid to go. Knew it was stupid to kiss Rhaenys and Aegon on the crowns of their head as a nurse Y/N had hired watched them. Knew it was stupid to take the small boat she had carved when she was only eight out to the island by herself. But she did it anyway. She needed it.

On the little island, a small patch of tall, green grass surrounded by soft sand and sharp rock, stood a man she thought had died.

Arthur was standing there, his white KIngsguard cloak long gone and the armor missing as he held a small bundle in his grasp. And he was bleeding. Bleeding bleeding bleeding. But he trudged forward and pressed the small bundle into her arms and then he nearly collapsed to his knees at her feet.

“It is finished.”

She looked down at the bundle and gasped. A baby—there was another baby.

“What? Arthur? What is this? Who?”

“Rhaegar wanted to name him Vaemond. But Lady Lyanna…she kept calling the babe Jon before she even brought him into this wretched world.”

This was Lyanna’s baby. The baby Elia said she would love as her own. And so now, she must, too. Y/N huffed and the babe in her arms squirmed, full lips pulled into a pout. “Then Jon he will be.” Rhaegar had done enough damage to his children. “Where is Lyanna?”

“Dead. The childbed took her.” The words were punched out of him and his unfocused eyes looked at the babe in her arms. “You’ll care for him, won’t you? He’s innocent in all of this.”

“So was Elia. So are Rhaenys and Aegon.”

“So it is true then?” The hopeful gleam in his eye made her chest lurch. “You have her children? They’re safe? I thought it was just rumor that Elia had been alone when she arrived in King’s Landing. I thought she would never leave her babies…”

“She only left them to keep them safe. And, for now, they are safe.”

Arthur was quiet as Y/N looked down at the baby in her arms. Jon’s pudgy little arms reached out toward her and she adjusted her hold to let him wrap his hand around one of her fingers. And she was lost. He was a precious little one. Another babe for her to care for.

Arthur suddenly fell to his knees and Y/N hurried to try to keep him upright while still keeping little Jon comfortable. But Arthur pushed her hands away, leaving blood on her skin from where he had touched her so briefly. “Will she forgive me? When I see her…will she forgive me for helping her husband in this stupid fight for prophecy?” His purple eyes filled with tears and they slipped down his dirty cheeks.

Y/N did not need to ask who he was asking about. She knew. “Elia forgave you the moment it happened.”

Arthur nodded and hung his head. He was finished. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Rest, Arthur. You have earned it.” She placed her hand against his head, the closest she could be to him in the moment and, in the next few breaths, he was gone. His body slumped to the soft grass.

Y/N sighed and held Jon a little closer. Another one…another person she had considered a friend had been taken and she was alone again. And, she promised herself then. This would be the last time she cried. This would be the last time she lost someone.

This would be the last time.

AND ANOTHER BANNER BY MY BABY MARS @thesadvampire​

A/N: Please let me know what you think. This is a bit of a slower burn so I hope you guys don’t lose interest. :) thanks for reading!

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell imagine #willas tyrell x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #asoiaf #oberyn martell #willas tyrell

[goodqueenaly]

Howdy! Quick question about marriage in ASOIAF, and you're the expert at that angle. So! I was wondering how old a male heir would be when it was expected for him to marry. I know Willas Tyrell is still unmarried and that seems accepted, but about what age would he (or another male heir to a prominent house) have to be for it to be unusual to be be single? Thanks!

Depends on the heir, depends on the situation. 

Sometimes, a male heir will be married young for some imperative political purpose, especially the quick propagation of the dynasty he represents. Take the case of Aegon the Elder, who was married at 15 to his 13-year-old (full) sister, Helaena; my strong suspicion is that Alicent encourage or outright arranged that match herself (with Viserys’ agreement, of course) so that the Hightower-Targaryen faction could start producing heirs of its own as quickly as possible. Randyll Tarly married his (second) son and heir Dickon to Eleanor Mooton when Dickon was no older than 13 (and his description as a “young squire” in the AFFC Appendix may suggest that he is even younger) to solidify his political position in and control over Maidenpool. I think you can also count Joffrey and Aegon III here as well, as while they were reigning kings when they were married they were still young and their marriages were being decided for them by their ruling authority figures (and so were treated more like royal heirs than rulers in their own right); Joffrey was of course married at 13 to preserve the Lannister-Tyrell alliance which had won the day for the Baratheon-Lannister regime at the Blackwater (and was expected to consummate his marriage right away, to create new heirs for that regime), while Aegon III was married first to Jaehaera Targaryen (to bind up the black and green factions after the Dance) and then to Daenaera Velaryon (the idea being that Aegon would choose a new queen on whom he could father an heir right away, though of course Daenaera was only six when she was chosen and wouldn’t have any children with Aegon for a number of years). 

This is not always the case, though, and a male heir may remain unmarried well into adulthood (by our standards as well as Westerosi). Take the case of Willas Tyrell, who remains unwed into his mid-20s and possibly as much as his early 30s; a combination of societal ableism and keen political ambition on the part of House Tyrell have kept Willas a bachelor for so long, but given the flourishing of House Tyrell there is not so great pressure to propagate the dynasty through Willas (and indeed, second son Garlan’s marriage may be extra insurance to this end). Edmure Tully also stayed unmarried well into his 20s and likewise possibly into his 30s, and without the benefit Willas has of numerous family heirs to secure the dynasty; my guess would be that Hoster’s marital ambitions would not let him settle for anyone he deemed not good enough for his only son, but that once his cancer started, Hoster was unable to pursue the matter as vigorously, and Edmure didn’t care enough to do it for him. Ryon Allyrion, the only known child of the Lady of Godsgrace, doesn’t seem to have married until he was in his 30s (although it’s obviously possible that he was married before he wed Ynys Yronwood and his prior wife or wives died), though we’re given no reason why he would have waited. Corlys Velaryon was at least 24, and possibly as old as 37, before he became Lord of the Tides and master of Driftmark, yet he didn’t marry Princess Rhaenys until 90 AC, when he was 37, without ever having been married or even betrothed prior to then. 

It can also be the case that a male heir is betrothed, possibly young, without being married right away. Brandon Stark was about 14 when he was betrothed to Catelyn Tully, but he was still unmarried at his death at age 20 (though I do think Rickard was hoping for a double wedding in 282 AC - first Brandon to Catelyn, then Lyanna to Robert). Tywin seems to have been betrothed to cousin Joanna while still young, though he didn’t actually marry her until he was 21. Harrold Hardyng, heir presumptive to the Vale, has of course recently been betrothed to “Alayne Stone”, at the age of 18; it’s unclear how or for how long that betrothal might have operated in ordinary circumstances, given the ostensibly multi-year plan of the Winged Knights (and it’s very possible Anya Waynwood hoped that Harry would use and abandon “Alayne” as he had his previous two sexual partners, freeing himself from the condition that “Alayne” would have to “win” him), though I think Littlefinger is going to push for a marriage much sooner rather than later. 

And then it’s important to note that there are plenty of male heirs whose marital status is totally unknown despite them being into adulthood. Is Addam Marbrand, a childhood friend of Jaime’s (and so presumably around Jaime’s age), married or betrothed? Is Harrion Karstark, eldest brother of the now-16-year-old Alys, married or betrothed? Is Brynden Blackwood, who is at least 18 if not older now, betrothed or married? Is Horas Redwyne, likewise at least 18, betrothed or married? GRRM hasn’t said, and so it’s even harder to give an across-the-board answer.

#asoiaf meta #marriage making #marriage in asoiaf

[dwellordream]

Hi, I’m the one who asked you about the multi gender swap story the other day, with the youngest members of each house being female, I know you said you wouldn’t be interested in writing it or probably reading it, but I’m wondering if you can help me out with one particular point? I’m completely blind, and it takes me an absolute age to go through all the source material, plus half of it isn’t accessible, and I’m very confused as to what ages the characters would be During Roberts Rebellion

I can give you the ages of major house members in 282 AC, which is when the Rebellion officially began:

Brandon Stark - 20

Ned Stark - 19

Lyanna Stark - 15 or 16, depending on if she was born in 266 or 267 AC

Benjen Stark - 15 or younger. The oldest year he could have been born is 267 AC.

Robert Baratheon - 20

Stannis Baratheon - 18/19 (born in early 264 AC, while Robert was born in late 262 AC, making them roughly a year apart)

Renly Baratheon - 5

Elbert Arryn - Unknown, likely around the same age as Brandon and Ned

Denys Arryn - Unknown, likely in his twenties, as he was Keeper of the Gates of the Moon, married, and expecting his first child by 283 AC

Rhaegar Targaryen - 23

Viserys Targaryen - 6

Elia Martell - 25 or 26, depending on if she was born in 256 or 257 AC

Rhaenys Targaryen - born at the end of 280 AC, so Rhaenys would have been 1 at the start of 282 AC

Aegon Targaryen - born either at the very end of 281 AC or the beginning of 282 AC, so an infant under the age of one in 282 AC

Doran Martell - 34 or 35, depending on if he was born in 247 or 248 AC

Oberyn Martell - 24 or 25, depending on if he was born in 257 or 258 AC

Obara Sand - 10 or 11, depending on if she was born in 271 or 272 AC

Nymeria Sand - 7 or 8, depending on if she was born in 274 or 275 AC

Tyene Sand - 6 or 7, depending on if she was born in 276 or 277 AC

Sarella Sand - 1 or 2, depending on if she was born in 280 or 281 AC

Arianne Martell - 6

Quentyn Martell - 1

Catelyn Tully - 17 or 18, depending on if she was born in 264 or 265 AC

Lysa Tully - 15 or 16, depending on if she was born in 266 or 267 AC

Edmure Tully - anywhere from 8 to 15, as he was born somewhere between 267 and 274 AC

Petyr Baelish - 14

Cersei Lannister - 16

Jaime Lannister - 16

Tyrion Lannister - 9

Willas Tyrell - anywhere from 6 to 13, as he was born somewhere between 269 and 276 AC

Garlan Tyrell - 5

Loras Tyrell - infant born in 282 AC

Rodrik Greyjoy - anywhere from 8 to 15, as he was born somewhere between 267 and 274 AC

Maron Greyjoy - anywhere from 7 to 14, as he was born somewhere between 268 and 275 AC

Asha Greyjoy - 6 or 7, depending on if she was born in 275 or 276 AC

Theon Greyjoy - 3 or 4, depending on if he was born in 278 or 279 AC

#ask #anon

[anxiousnerdwritings]

are there any hotd/got characters that you’d like to write for but haven’t yet? not talking concepts but like headcanons/oneshots ect.

Characters from just the shows or the books too? Honestly, there are so many characters I’d love to write for at some point from either.

The ones I’d really love to write for are:

(House of the Dragon)

Aemond Targaryen

Alicent Hightower

Cregan Stark

Mysaria

Larys Strong

Rhaenys Targaryen

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Criston Cole

Daemon Targaryen

Aegon Targaryen II

Aegon Targaryen III

Viserys Targaryen II

Jacaerys Velaryon

Lucerys Velaryon

Joffrey Velaryon

(Game of Thrones) [I’m going more off of the books on this one]

Young Griff

Arianne Martell

Ellaria Sand

Tyene Sand (+ the rest of the Sand Snakes)

Darkstar/Gerold Dayne

Renly Baratheon

Loras Tyrell

Willas Tyrell

Garlan Tyrell

Edric Dayne

Mance Rayder

Val

Jaqen H’ghar

Varys

Little finger/Petyr Baelish

There’s a lot more from the other books/stories and the overall lore of Asoiaf that I would really love to talk about and be excited to write for!

#anxious answers #yandere house of the dragon #yandere game of thrones

[adancewithdragonsrpg]

Lista de personajes

EL NORTE

Personajes canon

Cregan Stark - 21

Bennard Stark - 36

Desmond Manderly - 40

Personajes semicanon libres

Brandon Stark - 19

Sara Nieve - 17

Benjen Stark - 18

Elric Stark - 16

Medrick Manderly - 22

Torrhen Manderly - 20

LAS ISLAS

Personajes canon

Dalton Greyjoy - 20

Krakiv - 53

Jaratar - 30

Darrik Harlaw - 40

Personajes semicanon con directrices

Veron Greyjoy - 19

Vickon Greyjoy - 38

Personajes semincanon libres

Elyse Pyke - 18

Carrel Schywryte - Libre

TIERRAS DEL OESTE

Personajes canon

Jason Lannister - 36

Johanna Westerling - 33

Cerelle Lannister - 17

Tyland Lannister - 36

Personajes semicanon con directrices

Roland Westerling - 53

Personajes semicanon libres

Tyshara Lannister - 16

Erwin Lannister - 26

TIERRAS DE LOS RÍOS

Personajes canon

Elmo Tully - 38

Kermit Tully - 19

Oscar Tully - 18

Humfrey Bracken - 39

Alysanne Blackwood - 23

Personajes semicanon con directrices

Amos Bracken - 18

Benjicot Blackwood - 16

Sabitha Vypren - 32

Personajes semicanon libres

Forrest Frey - 34

EL VALLE

Personajes canon

Jeyne Arryn  - 35

Joffrey Arryn - 33

Eldric Arryn - 22

Leowyn Corbray – 37

Corwyn Corbray - 29

Semicanon con directrices

Isembard Arryn – 36

Gunthor Royce - 50

Semicanon libres

Willam Royce - 26

Quenton Corbray – 17

LOS VERDES

Personajes canon

Alicent Hightower - 37

Otto Hightower - 58

Aegon Targaryen - 22

Helaena Targaryen – 21

Aemond Targaryen - 20

Daeron Targaryen - 16

Criston Cole - 41 años

Semicanon con directrices

Larys Strong – 42

Semicanon libres

Arryk Cargyll – 31 años

LOS NEGROS

Personajes canon

Rhaenyra Targaryen - 36

Daemon Targaryen - 46

Jacaerys Velaryon - 19

Lucerys Velaryon - 18

Baela Targaryen - 18

Rhaena Targaryen - 18

Rhaenys Targaryen - 55

Corlys Velaryon - 58

Personajes semicanon libres

Harrold Westerling - 52

Erryk Cargyll - 31

EL DOMINIO

Personajes canon

Garlan Tyrell - 23

Martyn Tyrell - 21

Margaery Tyrell - 19

Jeyne Bulwer - 26

Personajes semicanon con directrices

Ormund Hightower - 40 

Personajes semicanon libres

Lyonel Hightower - 18

Gwayne Hightower - 39

TIERRAS DE LA TORMENTA

Personajes canon

Borros Baratheon - 42

Elenda Baratheon - 39

Cassandra Baratheon - 19

Personajes semicanon con directrices

Royce Caron - 58

Byron Swann - 35

Steffon Connington - 21

Personajes semicanon libres

Maris Baratheon - 18

Floris Baratheon - 17

DORNE

Personajes Canon

Qoren Martell - 33

Aliandra Martell - 17

Semicanon con directrices

Qyle Martell - 16

Coryanne Martell – 16

Semicanon libres

Gyles Yronwood - 26

#reservas #a dance with dragons

[ao3feed-tywin]

The Pact of Ice and Fire

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/5RkIeqs

by GaemonTheGlorious

Rhaegar wins the battle of the Trident, but the consequences of his actions don't go away. The cycle of Westeros politics goes on, and Rhaergar's children have their own mission to serve and save their family, but Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen has a different place from them. He has to play the game of gods and men to save the world or destroy it...

Words: 5448, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage

Categories: F/M, Multi

Characters: Jon Snow, Rhaegar Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), Aegon Targaryen (Son of Elia), Daenerys Targaryen, Elia Martell, Oberyn Martell, Arianne Martell, Garlan Tyrell, Margaery Tyrell, Jon Connington, Ned Stark, Robb Stark, R'hllor | Lord of Light (A Song of Ice and Fire), Shiera Seastar, Jaime Lannister, Lyanna Stark, Cersei Lannister, Tywin Lannister, Robert Baratheon, Stannis Baratheon, Melisandre of Asshai, Aegon Blackfyre

Relationships: Jon Snow/Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), Aegon Targaryen (Son of Elia)/Margaery Tyrell, Cersei Lannister/Rhaegar Targaryen

Additional Tags: R Plus L Equals J | Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen are Jon Snow's Parents, Robert's Rebellion Fails | Rhaegar Targaryen Wins, Dark Magic, Dark Fantasy, Book!Jon, eclipse - Freeform, Politics, Dragons

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/5RkIeqs

#ao3feed #fanfic #ao3feed tywin #ao3feed tywin lannister

[fromtheboundlesssea]

We are the Shepherds Chapter 25

Epilogue

Celia sighed, rubbing her growing belly. The babe was kicking more now than ever and she knew that there would be only a few weeks left before she gave birth. Even so, a Queen was forever busy, especially with so many children to attend to.

Elia day beside her cheering for Daenerys as she and Jon sparred against one another. Celia’s little good sister was noble and kind and Celia’s nephew was good and gentle, both were fiercely competitive, especially against one another. They were practically twins in a way, but both would be leaving the Red Keep soon though.

Robert started calling after both of them, fixing Dany’s footing and Jon’s grip on his sword. Both smiled at the Stormlord cheekily as they did and Robert ruffled Jon’s hair in annoyance, making Dany laugh happily.

Rhaenys was sitting with Celia’s eldest son, Robbie, the two pouring over a history book, squabbling over the accuracies and inaccuracies of it based on another book they had been studying. Although Robbie took after Celia in appearance, her eldest son was much more like his father when it came to his studies. Rhaenys was the same, she had aspirations of being Robbie’s Hand when he was king and Celia thought it was a good match in that sense.

Three marriages in the royal family so soon. Jon was to travel North to marry Celia’s niece, Sansa, before they would head to Summerhall. Viserys had it repaired in recent years, although it wasn’t near as grand as it had once been. Then, Dany would travel to Dorne to marry Quentyn Martell. Celia doubted any other Westerosi Lord would be able to handle Dany’s tomboyish nature.

All of it, though, was to help dilute the Targaryen bloodline, making Jon’s children more Stark, and Dany’s children less Targaryen.

Rhaenys was to marry Garlan Tyrell and remain in the capital and Robbie was soon to marry Myranda Royce.

It was all to do the opposite of previous Targaryen dynasties. A pure Targaryen line had lead to the most heartache within Westeros, spreading the House’s ties was the best way to fix it.

“Mother,” Celia’s current youngest, Rhaella, came to her. “Aunt Elia.” She held up two daisy crowns and Celia smiled.

“Thank you very much, sweetling,” Celia said, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s hand.

“You made them beautifully,” Elia praised.

Rhaella beamed and rushed off to offer more crowns to the rest of the family. Celia know that Robert would make a big show of it, but he would no doubt wear it for the rest of the day, boasting to the rest of the Kingsguard that he was the favorite.

Celia smiled. Everything was perfect. And one more perfection was still to be added.

Continue on Ao3

#we are the shepherds #viserys targaryen x oc #viserys targaryen #celia tully #celiaverse #my writing

[justanartsysideblog]

Thank you for your thoughts on Rhaenys/Garlan :) They could be a real power couple. How do you think Olenna react after Garlan crowns Rhaenys his Queen of Love and Beauty?

I think they could be a really good couple too! And I’m glad you enjoyed my thoughts on the pair. 

Olenna is a calculating old lady, and she looks out for her family. I think she would have been paying close attention to Rhaenys for a long while, especially since Loras is good friends with Aegon, and Margaery is one of Rhaenys’ ladies-in-waiting. I wouldn’t be surprised if she learned of Rhaenys’ preferences from Margaery and then was the one that sent Garlan to court hoping something might happen to gain more power and stability for the Tyrells.

I think she’d be pleased with the potential match, but still wary because no one has forgotten the Mad King, and they are just waiting for the madness to come upon Rhaenys the same way. It never will, but the noble families of Westeros are likely to keep an eye out for years.

Thanks for the ask!

#king's landing au #rhaenys targaryen #garlan tyrell #rhaenys/garlan #Anonymous #cinn replies #answered ask