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wonwoosthetic · 5 years

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Escapees || Gendry Baratheon

MASTERLIST is in my bio!

Request: hello! i was wondering if i could have a gendry imagine. could you do something where the reader is davos seaworths (idk if i even spelt that right) daughter and she kind of keeps him company while he’s the red woman’s prisoner and then later helps him escape with davos. i’m sorry if that’s a really shitty idea

This is absolutely not a shitty idea, I loved writing this so much!! Thank you for the request, I hope you and everyone else enjoys it! :) <3

Characters: Gendry Baratheon (Waters) x Reader, Davos Seaworth, King Stannis Baratheon, Melisandre of Asshai (mentioned), Ramsay Bolton (mentioned)

Season: 3

Warnings: none (besides of a couple curse words)

Words: 3,593

Escapees

You had been sitting in your cell for longer than you would have wanted, looking at the brick walls, leaning on one of them while sitting on the cold floor. Your thoughts drifted to how your life has changed within a few weeks. After being captured by severs of the House Baratheon of Dragonstone your faith had been destined. King Stannis Baratheon had been keeping your father, Davos Seaworth, and you separated from each other ever since your arrival, you were only allowed to see him every third day. You guess, you could say, that you got lucky in the sense that you had not been killed yet... under one condition: you are going to marry Ramsay Snow. Ramsay Snow, a high born bastard.

With this, Lord Baratheon is hoping to come to terms with the House Bolton, only to take it over once "peace" settled over them. Your arranged marriage had made it possible for your father to stay alive as well but from what you had heard of the guards' conversations, King Baratheon was considering your father for the position of Hand of the King. Which would mean freedom for him... and possibly for you too.

Nights and days went by before you were allowed to see your father again, more than usual, or so it felt. One day you were awoken by two guards dragging you out of your cell. Confused and scarred for your life, you tried freeing yourself out of their tight grip around your arms - while you were screaming and kicking, the man holding you did not flinch once. The light of the day hit you, making you squint your eyes as you entered one of the many rooms in the castle, where your father and King Baratheon were already waiting for you. After standing on your own feet again with no one's hands on you, you ran across the room into your father's arms, hugging him as tightly as possible.

"Thank the gods. I thought I was never going to see you again", you mumbled into his chest. "It has been very stressful for the last days. I wanted to make some arrangements", he answered, taking your face in his hands, looking at you, like you were the last close family member he had because... you were. You scrunched your eyebrows when he said "arrangments" and tilted your head but before you were able to ask your question, Lord Baratheon took the word, "So, Ser Davos and I have been talking", your head spun to your dad as you heard "Ser" and you proudly smiled at him "(Y/N), after your father is now Hand of the King, you shall too receive something. I am going to give you a bed to sleep in one of our chambers. You cannot look like this when you are supposed to marry Ramsay Snow." Your eyes fell down as soon as the Lord finished his announcement, still feeling ashamed of what was awaiting you in a near future. But quickly, you rose your head again and looked him in the eyes, "Thank you, King Baratheon, I will stay forever thankful." He just gave you a nod and did not mention it again, "One of the guards will guide you and your father to the chamber, so he knows where to find you." "Thank you", your father and you nodded and exited the room, following a guard to the room, which you would be able to call your own.

In the chambers, you were left alone with your father to talk and catch up on news from outside of the cells. "So, you're a Ser now?", you asked with a grin of pride on your face. Your father chuckled and looked at the ground, "Yes, I suppose I am", then his eyes drifted towards you, "I'm deeply sorry." With a confused look, you got closer to him, "What for?", "That I wasn't able to call the marriage off", you nodded and looked away while he continued, "I don't want you to marry that Snow lad and I will find a way out of this." "Father", you tried calming him down by your hands on top of his, giving them a squeeze, "you do not have to be sorry. It's not your fault nor has it ever been. I will find happiness eventually - I'm sure." You always tried to find the positive side of conflicts, it was the last thing you could do.

He gave you a tight smile, not wanting to believe your words because you deserve better than to be married to a monster like Ramsay Snow. "But enough of me. What about you? What are you doing all day long?", you tried getting his thoughts off you, being more worried about him. "A little bit of everything right now...", you could tell his mind wandered off to something else. "There's something else you're not telling me", you claimed, taking a step back, "We never have secrets in front one another." "A boy... Gendry. Gendry... Baratheon", he started but you cut him off, "Lord Baratheon has a living son?" "No, Gendry is his nephew... but the bastard son of King Robert Baratheon. They're keeping him down in a cell", the look on his face was pure sadness. "Why ar- what are they planning on doing with him?", you wondered. To which he answered, "They wanted to take his blood to kill King Joffrey, King Robb Stark, and King Balon Greyjoy, which they did... and now... I think they're planning on killing him." He knew they wanted to kill him. "But he's family. He doesn't know anything about this here", you were waving your hands around in anger, "he's an innocent man, they cannot kill him." "They can and they will", he admitted. "You can't let this happen, father, you're better than them", you couldn't believe your ears that your father, who was once the kindest, most loving human being you had ever known, would let an innocent man get killed. "I suppose, I am not", with his head down, ashamed of himself about what he said to his daughter, his own flesh and blood, he left your chamber and made his way to the King's room.

It was late at night, everyone had gone to sleep, you had been giving better clothes earlier during the day, and were laying in your bed, unable to sleep. You had never met the boy who was being kept in a cell with the name of Gendry, yet you felt very deeply for him and those thoughts kept you awake - you made a decision. Carefully, you got out of the bed and made your way to the door. As silently as possible, you opened it, immediately looking for guards who would not let you get out. As there was no one in sight, you quickly ran across the hall, to the staircase that would lead you downstairs. The stones were cold and you regretted not putting on shoes. As you reached the basement, you noticed how dark it was and that a few halls weren't even lit up by torches. One was right next to you, so you took it from its holders on the wall and carried on walking towards where you thought to remember the cells to be.

After a couple of wrong turns but more right ones, you reached the cell blocks and noticed, not a single guard to be there. Discreetly, you inspected each and every cell, trying to find the King's nephew. Then, to your right, you found a cell a little bit further in the back, like yours used to be. You made your way down that hall and actually came to sight with a young man sitting on the ground, his back leaning on the steel cell door.

He heard your footsteps and turned around to look at you - he immediately sat up straight. You put the torcher in a free holder on the wall near the cell to give you at least a little bit of light. "How are you?", you started the conversation. "Great. Never been better", he sarcastically stated, making you chuckle, which made him grin. You sat down, leaning on the steel just like him, so you were able to look at him. "Who are you? I've never seen you down here", he wanted to know. "(Y/N) Seaworth. You're Gendry, right? Gendry Baratheon.", your answer made him turn around properly. "Words spread fast", he chuckled, "Seaworth like Ser Davon Seaworth?" "Yes, he is my father." "Kind man", he nodded, "he's been down here a couple of times, never mentioned you though." "He doesn't like to talk about his children much." "Children? You have siblings?" His question made your eyes water slightly, "Had." And guilt filled him, "I-I-I'm sorry, I didn-", but you cut him off kindly, "Don't worry, it's... fine." "May I ask how it happened?" he tried keeping up the conversation but didn't want to go too deep, since this was the first time he had ever met you. "When we fled our home, King Baratheon's men captured us and... put a sword through his heart as he tried to free himself", you told the story with your head down, not wanting to remember it too much. "Where was your home?" "Flea Bottom. A beautiful, litt-", " Sure, you were. I'm from Flea Bottom." You turned towards him with a smile, "I am, truly. I lived below the Street of Flour." His eyes looked directly into yours, "How far below?" "Well, to quote my father, The shit that poured from their privy pipes flowed down the side of Aegon's Hill along Tanner's Row and right in front of our front door on Gin Alley", you immitated your father, making you both chuckle, "it wasn't much that we had but it was enough for me to be happy." "You live in a castle with your father and a king, you're not happy?", Gendry was oblivious about your faith. "How can someone be happy when one is being told to marry Ramsay Snow to keep her and her father alive", you confessed. "I'm sorry", "Me too."

Your conversation went on for a bit longer than you had expected - you got on better than with any other person you had ever met. Later, or rather early in the morning, you decided to go back upstairs into your chambers to not get caught. Therefore, you stood up and made your way back. You were not able to see any guards but you also didn't exactly look for them as you were deep in thoughts about the young man you had just spent hours with. Suddenly, strong arms grabbed you, hold you tight and didn't let go. You started screaming and kicking while being dragged into the King's room you had been in once before. "What is all this screaming about?", the King asked. The guard set you down, "I found her down by the cells, she was talking to Gendry, my king." "So so, (Y/N)", his creepy voice made you look up from your sitting position on the floor, "I negotiate with your father and you go behind my back. I do not recall allowing you to go there." You stood up, straightening out your nightgown, "I'm truly sorry, King Baratheon", and bowed. "King Stannis, I ask you to forgive her for what she did", your father spoke from the other side of the room. You hadn't even noticed him, yet. "Well, Ser Seaworth, I don't know what to do now", Stannis Baratheon spoke. "I... I would ask you to let her go to the cells. Gendry should be allowed to talk to one his age... He's going to go soon anyway, I plead you to let them at least have this little amount of communication", your father tried negotiating more. The other older man started thinking about it. "I suppose we can give him at least this as his satisfaction. Well then, (Y/N), you will be allowed down to the cells. I do not want to find you anywhere else in this castle or your old cell will become your home again and the floor your bed." "Thank you, King Baratheon", with a head bow you left the room once again.

Back in your chamber, you had to catch your breath. You thought that he was going to kill you, there in this room and Gendry right after. A knock on the door made you jump. It opened and your father walked in. "It was very risky what you did", he stated sternly. "I know father, I'm sorry. I just... I want to help him." "Well", he took a deep breath, "you get to keep him at least a bit of company now. Do not misuse his act of kindness." "I won't, I promise."

A couple of days later

"Your father is a funny man", Gendry laughed. You had just told an amusing story from your childhood, making the both of you laugh out loud - something you had thought you would never be able to do again. Over the last few days, each night, you had come down to talk to the young man. He truly had become one of your closest friends and he was very thankful for you.

All of a sudden, Gendry got more serious, "I have sinned." "And I'm not a priest, so confessing to me will not free you", your comment made him chuckle. "It will free me because I feel like I have betrayed people and I have to tell somebody", he admitted. "Alright, what happened?" "I trusted her." You scrunched your eyebrows, "Who?" "The Red Woman", Gendry stated, making you turn around quickly, looking straight at him with your face right in front of the steel door. "Wh- what? I thought you didn't like fancy people." "I don't trust them." "If you mistrust fance people so much, why were you in such a hurry to trust her then?", you started getting slightly pissed off, not exactly sure why. He turned around to look at you, sitting in the same position as you - yet, he didn't dare to look at you... he couldn't. At first, he hesitated to answer, "... Never been with a woman. Never talked to a woman, really. Now you, of course, but before...", the young man took a deep breath, "And then she comes at you - big words, no clothes. What would any other man have done?" "That I don't know...", instead of being mad at him, you decided to lighten up the mood, "What I do know is, that she does know her way around a man's head, I'll give her that." Making you both chuckle. "Why are you telling me this?", you wanted to know since you had no relation to the story whatsoever. With that, his eyes drifted up, looking into yours deeply, "Because you're one of the most important people on my life right now - I don't have many." His comment made you blush slightly and your heart jump, a feeling you had never felt before but surely enjoyed when you were in his company. "I really enjoy our late night talks, you know", you said with a smile on your face. "Yeah", he chuckled, "I do too." After a couple of seconds in complete silence, he took the word again, "What would the perfect life look like for (Y/N) Seaworth?" You smiled, "Well, I would get out of this hell hole here, to marry the man that I choose to be my betrothed. I... I would live somewhere quiet. Somewhere in the forest maybe. Have a little cottage... a garden with loads of vegetables, fruits, and flowers that I've seeded myself. I would want to be happy." Gendry listened closely and carefully to every single one of your words - his eyes never drifted anywhere else apart from you. "How many children do you want?", his question got you thinking but also look at him with nothing but adoration. "You're quite nosy", the both of you smile at each other, "Three", you answered calmly, "maybe four", and with a shrug.

This was the last night you spend together divided by a cell wall.

You were quietly sleeping in your bed when the door to your chamber was ripped wide open, awakening you from your slumber. "(Y/N), love, you need to wake up, come on", you heard the voice of your father speaking. Slowly you rose your head from your pillow, "What? Father, what are you doing?" He was going around the room, looking for possibly important things to take with you. "You need to get up, you're going." "What?", you took the duvet off you and got up, putting on the shoes you had right next to the bed. "No questions, we need to be quick", he hastily hushed you out of the room. "I'm still in my nightgown." "It doesn't matter. You can get new clothes." Confused, you let yourself be dragged downstairs to the cells. Panic started to rise inside of you, and you tried to free yourself from your father's grip. "Wait! No! Where are you taking me?!", you shouted. Slightly too strong, he pulled you closer to him, coming to a stop, "Shh! You're going to wake everyone up. I'm bringing you away from here, you deserve better than this. Trust me." With a nod, you continued your walk to the cells, until you reached Gendry's. Your father loosened his grip on you and started opening the young man's cell. "What are you doing?", he asked, shocked at what was happening. "You're leaving", your father answered. "Is this some kind of trick?" "Yes, but not on you." As soon as he walked out of the cell, he saw you standing there, "What are you doing here?", he asked you, then turned to the older man, "What is she doing here?" "You're leaving together", he simply stated.

Outside, you got dragged towards the sea, through the sand, where a small boat was waiting for you. "Aim for that star. Don't stop", your father started explaining, handing you a bag, "There's bread and water. Go slow with it. If you finish it off, no matter how thirsty you get, don't drink seawater." Gendry interrupted him, "I know not to drink seawater", but the other man continued, looking at you both, "Row for a full day and night and you'll reach Rook's Rest. You'll want to stop there", he kept on pushing the boat into the water while Gendry put the things into it - you just kept on standing there, stunned by what was happening. After pushing your thoughts to the side, you focused on the two men in front of you again, "You ever been in a boat before?" "No." "You know how to swim?" "No." "Don't fall out. Go on", he pushed him slightly, then turned around to you, "go on, love." "No", you answered, "wh-what is going on? I can't just leave." "Yes, you can. This is your only chance. I promised you, I'd find another way, this is it. This is your only chance of being happy. I want you to be happy." "I am happy. Here, where you are too", you argued. "No, no, you are not. You deserve so much better than this", he took your face in his hands, "I love you, princess. And I trust you to be happy with him", he nodded towards Gendry, "you are going to be doing so many great things. But not here, I won't let this happen." He started pushing you towards the boat and you let him. "But about you? I can't leave you here, he will kill you!" Shortly before reaching the sea, you stopped. "I will find a way and one day... I will find you again", tears were running down his face, as well as down yours. You put your foreheads against each other, enjoying this last moment together. Then, you got in the boat. "Why are you doing this?", Gendry asked. "Because it's right, And because I'm a slow learner", he pushed the boat away, "when you get to Flea Bottom, have a bowl of brown for me! I trust you Gendry!" Those were the last words you heard from your father. You turned towards the young man you were from now on going to share your life with. "I will protect you. I will keep you safe, away from all the evil", he started, trying to calm you down, making your tears stop, while paddling, "I will find the prettiest cottage in the woods of Flea Bottom. With a garden where you can plant flowers, and vegetables, and fruits." You started calming down, smiling at his words. "I will marry you, one day", his words made your head shot up, looking at him, "Of course, I'm going to ask you properly. I will make you happy. I promise all of that." You smiled now at him, widely, "Thank you." His eyes drifted to look over the sea, "And who knows... possibly three kids", then he shrugged, "maybe four", making you smile even wider, even laugh. Standing up, you tried balancing your weight carefully, making him worry - he thought you were going to jump off the boat - you came closer to him and sat down right next to him, taking one of the paddles and started helping him getting further out into the ocean - further towards home.

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Uuuuuuh, I loved writing this SO MUCH! I hope you enjoyed reading it just as much :) <3

Thank you once more for the request! Sorry for any grammar and or spelling mistakes.

Hope you all have a great day/night, wherever you are! :) <3

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averagewriter-inthedark · 3 years

Text

Long Lost Friend | GOT Imagine (Female!Reader)

I don’t own any of the plots or characters of ASOIAF/GOT that all belongs to George R. R. Martin

Slightly follows this headcanon, but i plan to change a few things that were closer to the end of the hc. Might make a part 2

Characters in this imagine: Jon Snow, Tormund Giantsbane, Jorah Mormont, Davos Seaworth, Gendry Baratheon, Thoros of Myr, Beric Dondarrion, Sandor Clegane.

pairings: Sandor Clegane x reader (previous relationship), and slight Tormund Giantsbane x reader

Warnings: profanity, violence, mentions of death and sex, implications of attempted SA.

Word Count: 4776 (not edited so sorry for typos. I’ll get to it soon)

“My scouts found them a mile south of the Wall, said they were on their way here.” The once silent cell block of Eastwatch-by-the-Sea was interrupted by the Free Folk Tormund Giantsbane. Behind him were a group of men, following close as the beaded fellow led them to the cell holding three others they had yet to recognize. It was cold, and the only light shining in was from the small windows around to the top of the cell. Two men huddled in their clothing were seated on a bench against the wall while the third laid on the table, wrapped in his furs.

“You’re the Hound,” a voice spoke of recognition when the man on the table turned his head to see who had appeared. It was Jon Snow, the man they called the Bastard of Winterfell and currently the newly crowned King in the North. “I saw you once at Winterfell.”

“They want to go beyond the Wall too,” Tormund informed him before another voice spoke out.

“We don’t want to go beyond the Wall, we have to,” Jon glanced over to see a man with an eye patch speaking to him. “Our Lord told us that the Great War is--.” He was abruptly cut off by a young man with a buzz cut.

“Don’t trust him,” he sneered, “Don’t trust any of them.” Moving to come in front of the bars where he could get a better look at the three, the young man added “They’re the Brotherhood, and the last thing their Lord told them to do is sell me to a red witch to be murdered.”

“Thoros?” The figure huddled in corner of the cell wall glanced up upon hearing his name. Leaning forward to get a better look at the voice addressing him, he met eyes with an older man staring back at him, “I hardly recognized you.”

“Ser Jorah Mormont,” Thoros breathed out, ”They won’t give me anything to drink down here. I haven’t been feeling like myself.” Meanwhile, Tormund had turned his attention to Jorah the moment he heard his name, his expression turning into one of anger.

“You’re a fucking Mormont.” Jorah met the eyes of Tormund, who was looking at him with resentment, “Like the last Lord Commander?”

“He was my father,” Jorah confirmed, which only made Tormund spited even more.

“He hunted us,” he spat, “like animals.”

“You returned the favor as I recall.” The atmosphere became tense as new discovers caused an even more drift amongst the group. The one-eyed man, Beric, broke the silence while smirking. “Here we all are, at the edge of the world. At the same moment, heading in the same direction for the same reason.”

“Our reasons aren’t your reasons,” Ser Davos commented.

“It doesn’t matter what we think our reasons are.” Beric stood from his place on the bench, “There’s a greater purpose at work, and we serve it together. Whether we know it or not. We may take the steps, but the Lord of Light--.”

“Oh for fucks sake will you shut your whole,” Sandor gruffly cuts him off from behind. “Are we coming with you or not?” He asks the group of men.

“Don’t you want to know what we’re doing?” Jorah questions from the side while Jon contemplates as he looks at the three in the cell. Thoros gives a shrug, “What’s worse than sitting in a freezing cell waiting to die?”

“He’s right,” Jon speaks causing everyone to go silent, “We’re all on the same side.” To his right, Gendry looks at him like he’s out of his mind.

“How can we be?”

“We’re all breathing.” Extending his hand out, Tormund places the cell keys into his hand. The door us unlocked and Jon moves to the side, allowing the men to exit and closes it behind them. As he is locking it up, Tormund calls his attention.

“What should we do with this one here?” Turning around, Jon sees the man gesture to the cell directly across from the one they were at. It was dark with little light shining into it, but enough for it took appear no one was in there.

“Someone’s in there?” he questioned with a raised brow, stepping forward to get a closer look into the compartment. It looked completely empty which made him more confused.

“Aye,” Tormund confirmed, “Remember me telling you about that woman from ‘Braavos’ who my scouts picked up some weeks ago? Well she’s in there. Hasn’t spoken a word since she first arrived and stays in that corner so she can’t be seen.” By now all the attention is focused on the dark corner away from any light on the side of the cell wall. There was some food crumbs on the floor where little light could be seen, indicating there was in fact evidence of someone being present.

“And she hasn’t once come out of that corner?” Jon asks and receives a nod in return.

“Not that I know of. I’ve tried getting her to talk and will put food by the bars, I assume she grabs it at night when she knows it’s dark and there is no one watching.”

“I’ve heard her a few times,” Beric says to the group, “Late at night when these two are asleep I can sometimes hear shuffling. It’s so dark though I can never get a good look at her face.”

Tormund nudged Jon to get his attention, “We confiscated their weapons when we first caught them. This one had a what you southerners call a Valyrian steel sword in her possession. Said it was her families sword. Nearly took one of my men’s arms off when they captured her.”

The mention of a Valyrian steel sword had all the men in the room suspicious now of the unknown person. A Valyrian steel sword that is claimed to be her families ancestral heirloom? There was no way this woman was from Braavos, she had to have been original Westerosi.

Jon turned back to the cell, “I know you’re in there,” he called out in a deep voice, “My name is Jon Snow and my friend here tells me you are from Braavos. As King in the North I order you to come out and tell us your reason for being here. Otherwise you’ll face the consequences for refusal.” The room grew silent once more, the men quiet as they watched for any movement in the corner. After a minute or so they could faintly make out the sound of shuffling, as though someone was standing up from a seated position.

The area divided by light and darkness was breached when a foot stepped out, followed by a body of the woman. The light shined on her face when it was finally revealed, and three of the men went froze when the realization came to them. Her face was scarred, the rough texture starting from the top of her forehead and making its way down her face until it reached just below her chin. Hair messy and tangled, and body adorned in black clothing resembling that of Night’s Watch gear.

“Seven Hells,” Sandor murmured, eyes locked on her approaching figure. It had been years since he saw her, the last when they were both just teenagers having night of passion when they had finally acted on years of attraction they felt towards one another. From his knowledge of the events following that night, he believed for the past eighteen years she was dead. After all, he can distinctly recall the day Gregor arrived back to Casterly Rock to inform Tywin of his ‘successful’ mission.

The large man wasn’t the only one shocked by her presence. Beside him Beric’s jaw mouth was slightly agape and Jorah was unable to form words by it all. The memories might be hazzy and full of holes for the one-eyes man, but her face and demeanor was enough to spark recogniztion and the pieces of memory came together.

The woman let out a chuckle, her hand coming to rest on the bars in front of her though the sound she let out was anything but humorous. She leaned in so she was up against the cold barricade, eyes trailing over the men in front of her.

“Beric, Jorah,” her flat yet honey voice spoke out when she greeted the pair, before sending a glare to the tallest one towering them, “Sandor. What a surprise to see you all together after all this time.”

“My Gods,” Jorah finally found his voice, “I thought you were dead all these years. When I heard about what happened I---.” She let out a scoff cutting him off.

“Ah yes, leave it to Tywin Lannister to make all of Westeros believe I was dead like the rest of my poor family he so happily slaughtered. He couldn’t have the country knowing his prized guard dog let the daughter of the enemy get away after he massacred the entire House and butchered the heir who was just a babe. No, that would be out of the great Lion’s character to have the people know he failed. He had to make them believe she were dead so the entire L/N name would be nothing but words in a history book.” She felt the anger within her rise. Face ridden with anger while she thought back to the day her family was murdered and she was nearly violated. The day she fled her home to survive and had been living in exile ever since.

“My apologies,” she brought her hand over her chest, although it was obvious she was being sarcastic, “As you can see I hold bit of a grudge. But how could you blame me?” she let out a laugh, “I’m just saddened I wasn’t the one who put the arrow through his chest, I hear his own imp son got the honor. I’ll have to thank Tyrion for that if I ever see him again--.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Jon interrupted the woman who snapped her head toward them. Before she could answer the young Kind, Sandor’s voice cut through the air. “Y/N fucking L/N.” The room went silent, all eyes moving from the large man, to the woman behind the bars who stood with a blank face. Hearing the name of the once noble house made them all, except for Tormund, become shock by the presence of the female warrior they believed had been raped and butchered by the mountain during the prime years of Robert’s Rebellion.

Her family was a noble and loyal House that stood beside House Targaryen during the war. Many who knew her during this time were aware of her skilled abilities with a sword and arrow, even impressing King Aerys who would have made her a part of his Kingsguard if she hadn’t been a woman. That didn’t stop her however from participating in duels and tournaments which is where she had become aquatinted and close with notable men like Ser Jorah and Beric Dondarrion. The country was shocked when the House was slaughtered and extinct, the young woman perishing alongside her family.

“You’re Y/N of House L/N,” Everyone was brought out of their thoughts by Gendry’s voice. “You’re the daughter of Lord Y/F/N L/N from Storms End. One of the few houses that stood beside the Targaryen’s instead of King Robert when he was lord of Storms End. You’re said to be first female to become a Knight in Westeros.” The young man watched as she approached him, her palm running across the cold bars until she stood directly in front of him. Her glare was piercing, which made him shudder.

“I was never a Knight you silly boy,” she replied with a harsh tone, “Not even a King as mad as Aerys would bestow a title as suck on woman with his views. He may have respected me, was impressed by my fighting skills, but he still looked at me as birthing pod like any other man in this wrenched country. I was just a tough bitch who never lost a fight when dumb men dared to challenge me, saying that if they could bring me to my knees then their prize would be my hand in marriage. They are lucky I even allowed them to keep their knees after making such a ridiculous proposal.”

The memories came to her in a rush. The harsh fights she endured to keep her virtue, and not allow some petty Lord try to take away all she dreamed for. Being a Lady was never what she wanted, but she had a duty and adored her father so she honored what he expected of her. She was grateful he never pressured her into anything, and would turn away any suitor he deemed unfit, always taking her opinions into account.

“It was always exhausting,” she dramatically sighed, “having to put foolish men in their place. Dealing with the unworthy, such silliness from me though to think I would actually find a suitor who admired me for me and not just the name of face,” she glanced up from the ground to meet a certain man’s eyes. “I thought that someone was you, Sandor.” His body went rigid, and she walked slowly back over to where he was, leaning against the bars and tilting her chin up. “I had never believed you to be the one to fuck and leave, but I guess I was wrong.” She curled her lips up in a smirk, though her eyes remained narrowed, “You were just like every other man.”

Sandor remained stilled, his face blank and although he tried to put up a hard front, Y/N could tell her words were getting to him. How he felt the guilt from leaving and not coming to her rescue.

“What happened to you Y/N?�� Beric changed the subject from beside Sandor, “It’s been over twenty years.” She felt her face drop, the memories beginning to play in her head which had her flinch.

“Aye, it has hasn’t it,” she muttered, “the memories get a little weary after so much time has passed, but I can still remember clearly of that day. It was beautiful outside and mother was resting after having to care for my brother who was only a babe. Father and I were talking in his study when we heard the shouts from outside the castle. It didn’t take long to realize what was happening. I could see the lion sigils from the window and knew Tywin had sent his forces to slaughter us. If Robert had a hand it in I wouldn’t be surprised, after all we were Targaryen loyalists.

“My father begged me to take my brother and hide or flee, but of course I was stubborn. I should’ve just listened but I didn’t want to leave my family without a fight. It was a bloodbath. Our soldiers were massacred, the Lannister fuckers made it into the castle and before I knew it I was witnessing the Mountain drive his sword through my fathers stomach before bringing it down on his head. That’s how I got this scar on my face gentlemen,” Y/N brought her hand up to gesture to the marks on her face.

“I tried to protect my father, but good ole Clegane slashed me and tossed me to the floor like a doll. I laid there while he butchered my father before turning to my mother. My poor brother never stood a chance when the Mountain split him half.” Y/N’s face turned back to Sandor, leaning so her face was practically in between the bars while she stared up at him with cold eyes.

“Your brother almost had his way with me. Did he tell you that,” The hound clutched his hand into a fist. “I bet he bragged about it, saying he did in fact fuck me. How I screamed, how I cried. Of course Tywin wouldn’t have cared, as long as I was dead then he wouldn’t have done anything to his prized guard dog.” Many of the men had focused their attention on the hound. All of them speechless by the horrible tale of events. Sandor was silent, but kept his eyes connected with Y/N, unable to put into words how he was feeling.

“Truth be told he almost did,” the woman then said, backing away from the bars. “He had just managed to get all my clothes off and was trying to undo his when I reached for the knife beside me and drove it into his side. It gave me enough time to kick him away so I could escape. I ran and never looked back. Knowing Tywin would search for me if he found out I was alive, I smuggled myself on a ship heading for Essos. I’ve been in Braavos ever since.”

Y/N let out a chuckle, turning to the red-bearded giant with a smirk, “I wasn’t exactly telling the whole truth when I said I was from Braavos.”

The man scoffed though a ghost of a smile had made it’s way on his face, “You almost fooled me there.” She winked at him before tuning to the King in the North. Jon was still taken aback by all Y/N had told them. He was amazed at how she managed to survive everything although it saddened him that she had spend the past 20 years in exile so she could stay alive.

“So, King in the North,” He was brought out his thoughts by her voice, blinking rapidly when he realized she was standing in front of him, “What is it you plan to do with me?”

Jon glanced to the men beside him before landing on Ser Davos, who simply shrugged at him, “I don’t know that depends,” his attention was back on her, “You’re the last of your House. Unfortunately your ancestral home was given to another so I don’t think it would be wise to take it yourself.” Her scoff surprised him, the look on her face indicating she would be up for a challenge.

“That’s tempting, but a suicide mission obviously. Any other options?”

Jon thought for a moment, “Are you aware there are two Queens in Westeros?”

There was a firm nod from the woman, “When I heard the rumor of the dead rising in Westeros, I also heard the tale of two queens and a lone king. I thought why not come back home after all these years and see for myself.”

Jon couldn’t decipher the look on Y/N’s face. It was full of many emotions, her eyes were cold. Part of him felt she was resentful of both Cersei and Daenerys, the former not surprising, but the latter quite shocking.

“Would you want to pledge yourself to one of them. I will allow you to go free and travel to where you please.” The laugh Y/N let out lacked humor which made Jon feel a little nervous by what her answer would be.

“Oh Jon, can I call you that?” She cut him off before he could answer, “Listen, Jon, you think I would I swear fidelity to the woman whose father slaughtered my family? I would slit my own throat before I ever follow Cersei. As for Daenerys,” Her tone had an edge to it, “Her father was the reason the war every happened. If her brother hadn’t kidnapped your aunt, then your grandfather and uncle would still be alive and Robert wouldn’t never rebelled. My family was loyal to the Targaryen’s yes, but they are the reason my family is gone, my House is gone. Call it a grudge or whatever the fuck you want, but I will not bend the knee to a Queen whose family is the reason for mines demise.”

Her rant left the young King speechless. The anger in her tone gave much emphasis on the words she spoke. She projected the pent up years of anger of resentment in them.

“But you,” her voice became low, eyes gazing over his cloaked figure, “You didn’t offer yourself as a option to swear loyalty. Why?”

It was a question he wasn’t expecting, and honestly part of him couldn’t understand why he didn’t give himself as an option. He didn’t think he was one, that she would want to follow a Queen, mostly Daenerys, rather than a King.

“I-I,” he stuttered, “I didn’t think I was an option.”

“Why not? You are a King aren’t you?”

“Yes, but--”

“Is it because I’m not from the North?” Y/N asked, “From what I know Ser Jorah here is from the North, yet he choses to follow Daenerys. This man, Ser Davos, yes?” the older man nodded, “I recognize his Flea Bottom accent. He’s from King’s landing, but here he is following you. You may be young, your Grace, but I would’ve thought you knew by now that you don’t have to be of a certain land to follow a certain monarch.”

Y/N leaned closer to the bars, her face becoming more temperament. “Your father was an honorable man. I admired Ned. He was one of the few men I came across who respected me and didn’t try to have his father make an arrangement with mine so I could marry him. I never blamed Ned or his family for the war. After all, it was Rhaegar who decided to take Lyanna. All Rickard and Brandon wanted was to have her back and it was Aerys who made the choice to murder them. Your father wanted justice, and I don’t blame him for it.”

“But my father stood beside Robert. He helped overthrow Aerys and your family was loyal to him.”

“And that was my father and I’s greatest mistake,” Y/N admitted, “It wasn’t Stark bannerman that came to kill my family, Jon, it was Lannister. I have no reason to be angered at you or your family.”

Jon was at a loss for words. Here was a woman, known for her honor and loyalty just like the great people of her house admitting to the mistakes they made and regretful of the side they chose to fight for. It was an admirable thing, and Jon felt a sense of gratitude for it.

The man was about to speak when she once again spoke, but her words shocked not only him, but the men around as well. “Shall I bend the knee then? To prove to you that I, Y/N of House L/N swear fidelity to you, Jon Snow the King in the North where I vow to serve you, obey you, give my life to you if you asked from this day, until the end of my days.”

After several seconds of silence, the two firmly staring at one another while fully processing the words that were just spoken, Jon gave a nod. Y/N tilted her chin up slightly, stepping away from the bars to give herself enough space. All eyes were drawn to her as she lowered her body down, head bowing until her knee hit the ground.

She remained kneeling for a moment, before slowly rising. Her eyes connected with Jon, offering him a genuine smile this time which had the young King return one to her.

“Thank you, your Grace. It’s an honor to follow and serve you.”

“The honor is mine, my Lady,” Jon replied with a nod. “I am happy to have a warrior like yourself a part of my service.” Y/N gave a slight bow.

“It would have looked better if I had my sword,” she joked, “Which by the way, can I have that back?” Her eyes glanced between Jon and Tormund. The red-bearded man looked to Jon for the answer, the King nodded in return. While Tormund went to retrieve the weapon, Y/N questioned what the next move would be and if she could leave the cell.

While unlocking the door, Jon replied, “Well there is Winterfell. My sister, Sansa, is running things for me and I can send a raven to her. We expect the war with the dead to head there if they make it past the wall, we’ll need all the help against them. We can get you a place in the castle or Winter town if you’d like.”

Y/N contemplated the proposal while stepping out of the cell. It was a generous offer, and the woman appreciated the gesture from the young King.

“I am grateful for your kindness and generosity of the proposal, your Grace. But I am going to have to decline. I vowed to serve you and from what I heard when you came in here is you’re planning to go beyond the Wall. Let me come with you.”

“My Lady, these things out there are unlike anything you’ve ever been up against.”

“Which is why there is a first for everything. Please, your Grace. I am an excellent and skilled fighter, I could be of great use,” she gestured her head to the three men farthest to the left of her. “Ask any of them. They can vouch for it. Beric and I were always the attraction to see at the sparing tournaments. Jorah even mentored me whenever my father was busy, and Sandor witnessed my fighting first hand during the duels we attended.”

Jon turned to face the three men she mentioned. All who were rather taken aback at first. They all gave each other looks, as if they were conversing in their mind. Jorah was the first to nod, followed by Beric and finally Sandor.

“Very well,” Jon sighed and Y/N once again smiled. Approaching footsteps were head causing all in the room to turn their attention to the doorway where Tormund appeared holding a holster belt that contained a long, steel sword.

He walked until he was right in front of Y/N, extending his hand out. The sword was huge, much like many Valyrian swords and was lined with silver and gold, with a white owl as its pommel. Y/N took the sword in her hands, checking to make sure it didn’t have any abrasions that indicated someone had been using it. When she found none, Y/N secured the belt around her waist.

“Does it have a name?” Jon asked, watching her tighten the leather until it was belt was snug against her.

“Valor.”

The group made their way back up to the main floor of Eastwatch. Those who didn’t have furs or cloaks were given one, tightening them to keep warm from the harsh cold they were about to face. Jon and Tormund led the way to the gate, the red-bearded fellow sending a wink to the woman who returned the gesture with a smirk.

“You know,” he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “The best way to stay warm out there is by fucking.” She didn’t falter in her steps despite her heart skipping a bit by his words.

How bold of him to say such things to a Lady, but then again, Y/N was far from a Lady and Tormund was not familiar with how partnerships worked south of the Wall.

“Is it now?” she feigned innocence, her eyes moving to look at his. The man, with a grin plastered on his face, nodded eagerly. She let out a chuckle by his manners, looking away briefly to think for a moment before reconnecting their eyes. “Well then, Tormund, I know just who to go to when I am in need of warming up.”

Oh he was smitten to say the least.

Lining behind the steel, they waited for the gate to open, immediately being welcomed by the harsh winds when it slowly rose. Y/N shivered when the cold hit her, the breeze blowing through her hair and she clutched onto her furs. Tormund was beside her and noticed her discomfort.

“You get used to it.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

The gate fully rose and they all stepped out into the open until they were all out of the tunnel. Jon looked back, eyes glancing over who stood with him. Thoros gave a cheeky look to the Hound, who’s expression made Y/N want to laugh. Take one final look at Eastwatch, Jon tuned around and began walking, everyone following in step behind him.

With the snow raining down and the winds pushing against them, the eight figures moved through the rough grounds and into the unknown. Their stories, all with different tales and different background. Some who fought against each other, others who were in exile.

Despite it all, here they were. Working together on the same side for the hope that they will live to see the next year. Their stories coming together, unbeknownst to how it will end.

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