#short king jon rights

[super-sons-week]

Princess:

Inspo:

#Damian: Also I'm no Princess. If anything I'm a King as is my birth right #Jon: yaaasss my short king!!! #Damian: 😡 #damian wayne #jon kent #super sons #superboy #robin #dc comics #fake tweets

[longclawshilt]

“I didn’t catch anything,” Bran said, “but Jon gave me his fish on the way back to Winterfell. Will we ever see Jon again?”

“We saw Uncle Benjen when the king came to visit,” Robb pointed out. “Jon will visit too, you’ll see.”

- Bran V, AGOT

There’s something so strange about this exchange because it’s preceded by Robb and Bran grieving Jory and then all of a sudden we get a random callback to Jon Snow. it’s only two lines of dialogue but I think it does quite a bit of work in terms of establishing who Jon is as a character, and also gives us a few hints of what we might expect to happen in coming books.

They’re talking about going fishing with Jory once upon a time and Bran mentions that when he didn’t catch anything, Jon gave him his fish. This, in and of itself, isn’t very surprising and it doesn’t tell us anything new about Jon’s character. That’s because he’s been established as a selfless and kind person from the very first chapter. Jon being self-sacrificial, then, isn’t something that is new to the reader at this point. But this short exchange does show us the extent to Jon’s sacrifice. He isn’t someone who takes half measures. Rather, he’s someone who goes all in.

And it’s so fascinating because Jon giving away all his fish may seem like a typical ‘big brother looking out’ moment, but I can’t help but notice the extent to which Jon looked out for Bran. Because he could’ve given him a just few fish and it would’ve been quite lovely; we would still say that he is kind and compassionate big brother. He could’ve given Bran half his fish and we’d praise him for such a great display of kindness. But Jon gave Bran everything he had. He didn’t take any half measures; he went all in. And Bran doesn’t mention Jon only giving him some, so I’m assuming that this means all.

This is something we see in an earlier Tyrion chapter, where he and Jon are parting at the Wall.

“Rickon will ask when I’m coming home. Try to explain where I’ve gone, if you can. Tell him he can have all my things while I’m away, he’ll like that.”

- Tyrion III, AGOT

Jon once again assumes the role of the big brother looking out for his younger sibling, but it’s quite stark (pun intended) how far he goes to make sure that Rickon is happy and well-provisioned. He doesn’t say “tell Rickon to pick and choose what he wants”. He doesn’t name a specific thing that Rickon might want. No. Jon means to have his brother take everything.

The depth of Jon’s kindness is quite remarkable. Yes I know, it’s not the most revolutionary thing to have the fantasy protagonist be good to people. But it’s still quite nice to see him being so kind in a series half-full of actors motivated by purely selfish reasons. It’s especially important because this flashback comes after Bran gets news of Jory’s murder - a selfish, unkind, and senseless act; it’s just pure malice. There aren’t many people in this world who would give everything they have, especially when they don’t have to. Jon had no reason to give Bran all his fish, but he did anyway. He didn’t have to give Rickon all his things, but he did it anyway. It’s the extent to which he goes about being good to people that’s impressive. And we see this develop where he starts extending that to the dozens, hundreds, and thousands.

And I would be negligent if I didn’t mention the obvious messianic framing here. We’ve got a sacrificial lord (mayhaps we might even say a prophesied sacrificial savior), a little boy, and a couple of fish. And we also have mentions of giving away all your possessions to attain true righteousness in scripture, as Jon did with Rickon.

But what I find most curious is Robb’s line. Because it reads like a promise of some sorts. Robb makes the observation that Uncle Benjen visited them when King Robert went to Winterfell, and he is using that as proof to say that Jon will visit too. It’s interesting because Jon mentions hearing his uncle talking to his father about settling people in the Gift. Plus Jon and Benjen have a pretty good relationship so he must’ve travelled there earlier. Thus, I’d assume that King Robert’s feast wasn’t the first time that Benjen went to Winterfell in Robb’s lifetime. So it just makes the connection of Jon’s arrival coinciding with that of a king all the more noteworthy. Except, Jon might be the king who visits this time around.

Robb’s line evokes the imagery of the Return of the King. And also if we go back to scripture, there’s the return of the lord/king, after a great sacrifice. So:

Bran mentions Jon’s sacrifice and then Robb promises that he will return

The savior sacrifices himself then returns in glory (scripture)

Therefore, Jon shall return to Winterfell as a glorious king after a sacrifice

It’s part of why I think we as a fandom need to be a bit more flexible when we talk about Jon’s relationship with sacrifice. I always see people say that because Jon is self-sacrificial, then he is the one who needs to/must die after sacrificing himself for the realm/other POVs. Nevermind the obvious bias in this line of thinking, which is usually in favor of other characters, but I think such opinions only got half the picture. They don’t follow the pattern that has been presented to us by the text. Yes, it’s true that Jon makes some big sacrifices. And it’s true that they’re sometimes preceded by a period of temptation. HOWEVER, these sacrifices are usually followed by something more spectacular (obviously, in my humble opinion). For example:

When they find the direwolf pups, Jon sacrifices himself so his siblings can get a pup each. However, he immediately finds Ghost afterwards who is the most special of all the dire wolves (and even becomes the largest)

He sacrifices his want for Wintefell in ASOS, but is elected Lord Commander of the NW by book’s end. So the sacrifice is followed by a great appointment to power (rather quickly, I might add). And being Lord Commander puts him in a special position in the upcoming war for the dawn.

So the quote at the beginning of this post, imo, just illustrates that pattern. A sacrifice is followed by something grand. Bran mentions Jon’s sacrifice and then Robb connects his coming to a king’s return. The question remains though: if this is something that will happen in the future, how will it happen and when? I don’t really know tbh, but it would be quite a nice bookend to have Jon’s glorious return be towards the end of ADOS so that it can parallel King Robert Baratheon’s arrival in the beginning of AGOT (which preempted Jon’s departure in the first place).

#jon snow #bran stark #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #jon the king #welp #I’m on my J=J agenda again #And also my king Jon agenda #I mean…it’s really hard not to #It’s right there!!! #The Return of the King…… #It has to be deliberate right?! #GRRM had a catholic upbringing but I don’t really know the extent to which he incorporated that into asoiaf #BUT ANYWAY #I’ve been meaning to write at length about Jon’s relationship with sacrifice #And how his greatest acts of sacrifice (usually after a period of temptation) #Are followed by the emergence of greater things that elevate and set him apart #But I’m LAZY AF and I haven’t done it up to now #So this short meta will have to do for now hehehe #I think this short exchange between Robb and Bran is kinda emblematic of that pattern though #Maybe I’ll actually get to writing something more detailed once I finish my reread…le sigh #my stuff

[banneriscarried]

Jon: my boyfriend is too tall for me to kiss him on the lips. What should I do?

Melanie: punch him in the stomach, then, when he doubles over in pain, kiss him.

Sasha: tackle him!

Tim: kick him in the shin.

Martin: NO TO ALL OF THOSE. JUST ASK ME TO LEAN DOWN

#tma jonathan sims #jonathan sims #tma martin blackwood #martin blackwood #timothy stoker #tim stoker #tma tim stoker #sasha james #tma sasha james #melanie king #tma melanie king #jmart #jonmartin #short jon rights #tma #the magnus archives #the magnus archives memes #tma incorrect quotes #has this been done before? #probably #am i making the joke anyway? #definitely

[totallyfluxd]

the main problem with media where characters have no set canon appearance is that you will listen to 200 episodes picturing The Tall One and The Short One, go to read literally any fic written for this show, and be told You Got It The Wrong Way Round

#lanky jon and short king martin rights #i may be many years late to the party but i am also Correct

[visenyaism]

Now I'm curious. What options would you say were available to Ned beyond warning Cersei to hit the road? Short of dismantling the entire system on his own, of course. /gen

1. extricate himself from the situation. just not saying anything to cersei or robert, not staying behind to warn her at all and just focus on getting his family out of king’s landing. once they’re back at winterfell what is anyone going to do go get him? it’s fall.

2. just do not tell robert. ned is 100% certain that as soon as he tells robert the truth robert will respond by killing cersei and her children (and jaime but ned doesn’t care too much about that.) he does not have to do the thing he knows will result in the deaths of children.

3. help cersei and the kids escape instead of just telling her they should. he has no reason to do this but it would make his warning more actionable.

he does not do these things because he is too loyal to robert and feels like it’s his obligation to his friend and the realm to set the succession right and stop the lannisters’ (who at this point he thinks killed jon arryn as the start of their slow coup, pushed bran out a window, and did stab him in the leg and kill all his men.) will he let that slide. no. but all of these things interfere with his belief that children should not be murdered. ned’s discomfort with being the one to be responsible gets him killed. but so does his adherence to the idea that he HAS to tell robert. cognitive dissonance enjoyers we’re so back

#asoiaf

[otherworlds-inside-my-mind]

Xenofiction (& similar) Media Masterpost

PS. This list is for keeping track only. This is not a recommendation list and I won't be advocating for any Work, Author or Company listed. There will be footnotes about a work/author for undesirable behaviour or themes if necessary.

This is a WIP and will be updated whenever I have the time to. Feel free to recommend works or inform me about an author so I can update the post. Be Aware works on this list might have been cancelled or on indifinitive Hiatus and not all works are available on English.

Sections:

Literature

Comic Books & Graphics Novels

Picture Books

Webcomics

Manga

Animated Series

Live-Action & Hybrid shows

Webseries

Short Films

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Live Action & CGI Assisted Movies

Theather

Videogames

Online Browser Games

Table Top Games

Music

Other Online Projects

Youtubers

Gen. Videos

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To search is Ctrl + F (Windows) or Command-F (MacOS), on phone browser you have "Find in page" (Drop menu at top right)

Literature

A

Age of Fire - E. E. Knight

Adventure Lit their Star - Kenneth Allsop

Alien in a Small Town - Jim Cleaveland

Alien Chronicles (Literature) - Deborah Chester

Animal Farm - George Orwell

Animorphs - K. A. Applegate

Am an Owl - Martin Hocke

At Winters End - Robert Silverberg

Avonoa - H.R.B. Collotzi

Astrid and Cerulean: A Parrot Fantasy - Parasol Marshall-Crowley

A Wolf for a Spell - Karah Sutton

The African Painted Wolf Novels - Alexander Kendziorski

The Alchemist's Cat - Robin Jarvis

The Amazing Maurice and his educated rodents - Terry Pratchet

The Amity Incident - C. M. Weller

The Ancient Solitary Reign - Martin Hocke

The Animals of Farthing Wood series - Colin Dann

The Art of Racing in the Rain - Garth Stein

The Author of Acacia Seeds and Other Extracts from the Journal of Therolinguistics - Ursula K. Le Guin

A Magical Cat Named Kayla: Whiskers of Enchantment -Carlos Juárez [AI Cover]*

B

Bambi: A life in the forest & Bambi Children - Felix Salten

Bamboo Kingdom series - Erin Hunter

Bazil Broketail - Christopher Rowley

Beak of the Moon & Dark of the Moon - Philip Temple

Bears of the Ice series - Kathryn Lasky

Beasts of New York - Jon Evans

Beautiful Joe - Margaret Marshall Saunders

Beyond Acacia Ridge - Amy Clare Fontaine

Birddom - Clive Woodall

Black Beauty - Anna Sewell

Blitzcat - Robert Westall

Blizzard Winds - Paul Koch

Books of the Raksura - Martha Wells

Bravelands series- Erin Hunter

Broken Fang - Rutherford Montgomery

Bunnicula series - Deborah Howe & James Howe

Burning Stars - Rurik Redwolf

A Black Fox Running - Brian Carter

A Blue So Loud - Tuesday

The Ballard of The Belstone Fox - David Rook

The Bear - James Curwood

The Bees - Laline Paull

The Biography of a Silver Fox - Ernest Thompson Seton

The Blue Cat of Castle Town - Catherine Cate Coblentz

The Book Of Chameleons - José Eduardo Agualusa

The Book of the Dun Cow - Walter Wangerin Jr.

The Book of Night with Moon - Diane Duane

The Books of the Named series - Clare Bell

The Bug Wars - Robert Asprin

C

Call of the wild - Jack London

Callanish - William Horwood

Catwings - Ursula K. Le Guin

Cat Diaries: Secret Writings of the MEOW Society - Betsy Byars, Betsy Duffey & Laurie Myers

Cat House - Michael Peak

Cat Pack - Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

Cats in the city of Plague - A.L Marlow

Celestial Heir series - Chester Young

Charlotte's Web - E. B. White

Chet and Bernie mysteries - Spencer Quinn

Chia The Wildcat - Joyce stranger

Child of the Wolves - Elizabeth Hall

Clarice the Brave - Lisa McMann

Coyote's Wild Home - Barbara Kingsolver; Lily Kingsolver & Paul Mirocha

Crocuta - Katelyn Rushe

Cujo - Steven King

The Calatians Series - Tim Susman

The Cats of Roxville station - Jean Craighead Georde

The Chanur Novels - C. J. Cherryh

The Cold Moons - Aeron Clement

The Color of Distance || Through Alien Eyes - Amy Thomson

The Conquerors - Timothy Zahn

The Council of Cats - R. J. F.

The Cricket in Times Square - George Selden

The Crimson Torch - Angela Holder

The Crossbreed - Allan Eckert

The Crucible of Time - John Brunner

D

Darkeye series - Lydia West

Deadlands: The Hunted - Skye Melki-Wegner

Demon of Undoing - Andrea I. Alton

Desert Dog - Jim Kjelgaard

Dinotopia - James Gurney, Alan Dean Foster

Doglands - Tim Willocks

Dimwood Forest series - Avi

A Dog's Life: The Autobiography of a Stray - Ann M. Martin

Dogs of the Drowned City - Dayna Lorentz

A Dog's Purpose series - W. Bruce Cameron

Dolphin Way: Rise of the Guardians - Mark Caney

Domino - Kia Heavey

DragonFire series - Lewis Jones Davies

Dragon Fires Rising - Marc Secchia

Dragon Hoard and Other Tales of Faerie - Cathleen Townsend

Dragons and Skylines series - Rowan Silver

Dragon Prayers - M.J. McPike

Dragons of Mother Stone series - Melissa McShane

The Deptford Mice series - Robin Jarvis

The Dogs of the Spires series - Ethan Summers

The Dragons of Solunas series - H. Leighton Dickson

The Duncton Chronicles - William Horwood

The Destiny of Dragons - J.F.R. Coates

The Diary Of A House Cat - Ileana Dorobantu

Die Wilden Hunde Von Pompeii - Helmut Krausser (DE)

Dogtown - Katherine Applegate & Gennifer Choldenko

E

The Eyes and the Impossible - Dave Eggers

Eclosión - Arturo Balseiro (ES)

F

Fantastic Mr. Fox - Roald Dahl

Faithful Ruslan - Georgi Vladimov

Feather and Bone: The Crow Chronicles - Clem Martini

Feathers & Flames series - John Bailey

Felidae series (1) - Akif Pirinçci

Fifteen Rabbits - Felix Salten

Fire, Bed & Bone - Henrietta Branford

Fire of the Phoenix - Azariah Jade

Fluke - James Herbert

Firefall series - Peter Watts

Firebringer - David Clement-Davies

Flush: A Biography Book - Virginia Woolf

Fox - Glyn Frewer

Foxcraft series - Inbali Iserles

Frightful’s Mountain - Jeanie Craighead George

Frost dancers: A story of hares - Garry Kilworth

The Familiars series - Adam Jay Epstein

The Fifth - Saylor Ferguson

The Firebringer series - Meredith Ann Pierce

The Fox and The Hound - Daniel P. Mannix

(1) Felidae's Author - Akif Pirinçci - is known to be a Xenophobic, Anti-muslim, Anti-Lgbt and Extreme Right-Wing guy (A N4zi by his on words). Won't be going onto details just know he has a non-fiction work called "Germany Gone Mad: The Crazy Cult around Women, Homosexuals and Immigrants." His works has been out of print ever since.

G

Guardian Cats and the lost books of Alexandria - Rahma Krambo

Guardians of Ga'Hoole series - Kathryn Lasky

Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett

Griffin Quest - Sophie Torro

Gryphon Insurrection series - K. Vale Nagle

The Ghost and It's Shadow - Shaun Hick

The Golden Eagle - Robert Murphy

The Golem and the Jinni - Helene Wecker

The Good Dog - Newbery Medalist

The Guardian Herd series - Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

The Goodbye Cat - Hiro Arikawa

H

Haunt Fox - Jim Kjelgaard

Haven: A Small Cat's Big Adventure - Megan Wagner Lloyd

Heavenly Horse series - Mary Stanton

Hive - Ischade Bradean

Horses of Dawn series - Kathryn Lasky

House of Tribes - Garry Kilworth

Hunter's Moon/Foxes of First dark - Garry Kilworth

Hunters Universe series - Abigail Hilton

A Hare at Dark Hollow - Joyce Stranger

The Hundred and One Dalmatians & The Starlight Barking - Dodie Smith

The Hunt for Elsewhere - Beatrice Vine

Hollow Kingdom Duology - Kira Jane Buxton

I

I am a Cat - Natsume Sōseki

I, Scheherezade: Memoirs of a Siamese Cat - Douglass Parhirst

In the Long Dark - Brian Carter

The Incredible Journey - Sheila Burnford

J

Joe Grey series - Shirley Rousseau Murphy

Jonathan Livingston Seagull - Richard Bach & Russell Munson

Julie of the Wolves - Jeanie Craighead George

The Jungle Book - Rudyard Kipling

Journey to the West - Wu Cheng'en

K

Kävik the Wolf Dog - Walt Morey

Kazan duology - James Curwood

Kine - Alan Lloyd

Kona's Song - Louise Searl

The Killers - Daniel P. Mannix

Kindred of the Wild - Charles G.D Roberts

L

Lassie Come-Home - Eric Knight

Last of the Curlews - Fred Bodsworth

Lazy Scales - D.M. Gilmore

Legends of Blood series - Ethan Summers

A Legend of Wolf Song - George Stone

Luna the Lone Wolf - Forest Wells

Lupus Rex - John Carter Cash

Lutapolii: White Dragon of the South - Deryn Pittar

The Last Unicorn - Peter S. Beagle

The Labrador Pact & The Last Family in England - Matt Haig

The Last Dogs - Christopher Holt

The Last Eagle - Daniel P. Mannix

The Last Great Auk - Allan Eckert

The Last Monster on Earth - L.J. Davies

The Life Story of a Fox - J. C. Tregarthen

The Lost Rainforest series - Eliot Schrefer & Emilia Dziubak

The Lost Domain - Martin Hocke

The Last Whales: A Novel - Lloyd Abbey

M

Mammoth Trilogy - Stephen Baxter

Manxmouse: The Mouse Who Knew No Fear - Paul Gallico

Marney the Fox - Scott Goodall & John Stokes

Mattie: The story of a hedgehog - Norman Adams, & G.D. Griffiths

Matriarch: Elephant vs. T-Rex - Roz Gibson

Migon - P.C. Keeler

Monkey Wars - Richard Kurti

The Mistmantle chronicles - M.I. McAllister

The Mountain Lion - Robert Murphy

The Mouse Butcher - Dick King-Smith

The Mouse Protectors Series - Olly Barrett

N

New Springtime series - Robert Silverberg

Nightshade Chronicles - Hilary Wagner

O

Old One-Toe - Michel-Aimé Baudouy

Of Birds and Branches - Frances Pauli

Outlaw Red - Jim Kjelgaard

The Old Stag - Henry Williamson

The One and Only Ivan - Katherine Applegate

P

Painted Flowers - Caitlin Grizzle

Pax & Pax: Journey Home - Sara Pennypacker

Petrichor - C.E. Wright

The Plague Dogs - Richard Adams

The Pit - Elaine Ramsay

Pride Wars - Matt Laney

A Pup Called Trouble - Bobbie Pyron

The Peregryne Falcon - Robert Murphy

Pork and Others - Cris Freddi

Q

Queen in the Mud - Maari

Quill and Claw series - Kathryn Brown

R

Rak: The story of an Urban Fox - Jonathon Guy

Rats of Nimh series - Robert C. O'Brien

Raven Quest - Sharon Stewart

Raptor Red - Robert T. Bakker

Red Fox - Charles G. D. Roberts

Redwall series - Brian Jacques

Rose in a Storm - Jon Katz

Rufus - Rutherford Montgomery

Run With the Wind series - Tom McCaughren

Runt - Marion Dane Baeur

Rustle in the Grass - Robin Hawdon

Rusty - Joyce Stranger

The Remembered War series - Robert Vane

The Rescuers series - Margery Sharp

The Red Stranger - David Stephen

The River Singers & The Rising - Tom Moorhouse

The Road Not Taken - Harry Turtledove,

The Running Foxes - Joyce Stranger

S

Salar the Salmon - Henry Williamson

Scaleshifter series - Shelby Hailstone Law

Scream of the White Bears - David Clement-Davies

Seekers saga - Erin Hunter

Serpentia Series - Frances Pauli

Shadows in the Sky - Pete Cross

Shark Wars Series - EJ Altbacker

Silverwing series - Kenneth Oppel

Silver Brumby series - Elyne Mitchell

Sirius - Olaf Stapledon

Solo's Journey - Joy Aiken Smith

Sky Hawk - Gill Lewis

Snow Dog - Jim Kjelgaard

Song of the River - Soinbhe Lally

Spirit of the West series - Kathleen Duey

Survivors series - Erin Hunter

Stray - A.N Wilson

String Lug the Fox - David Stephen

Swashbuckling Cats: Nine Lives on the Seven Seas - Rhonda Parrish & Co.

Swordbird series - Nancy Yi Fan

The Sheep-Pig - Dick King-Smith

The Sight & Fell - David Clement-Davies

The Silent Sky - Allan Eckert

The Silver Claw - Garry Kilworth

The Stoner Eagles - William Horwood

The Stink Files - Jennifer L. Holm & Jonathan Hamel

The Snowcat Prince - Dina Norlund

The Story Of A Seagull And The Cat Who Taught Her To Fly - Luis Sepúlveda

The Story of a Snail Who Discovered the Importance of Being Slow - Luis Sepúlveda

The Story of a dog called Leal - Luis Sepúlveda

The Story of a Red Deer - John Fortescue

The Summer King Chronicles - Jess E. Owen

Schogul, Rächer der Tiere - Birgit Laqua (DE)

T

Tailchaser's Song - Tad Williams

Tarka the Otter - Henry Williamson

Three Bags Full - Leonnie Swann

Thy Servant a Dog - Rudyard Kipling

Tomorrow's Sphinx - Clare Bell

Torn Ear - Geoffrey Malone

Thor - Wayne Smith

Trickster -  Tom Moorhouse

Two Dogs and a Horse - Jim Kjelgaard

The Travelling Cat Chronicles - Hiro Arikawa

The Trilogy of the Ants - Bernard Werber

The Trumpet of the Swan - E. B. White

The Tusk That Did the Damage - Tania James

The Tygrine cat - Inbali Iserles

U

Ultimate Dragon Saga - Graham Edwards

Under the Skin - Michel Faber

V

Varjak Paw duology - S.F Said

Vainqueur the Dragon series - Maxime J. Durand

W

War Bunny series - Christopher St. Jhon

War Horse - Michael Morpurgo

War Queen - Illthylian

Warrior Cats series - Erin Hunter

Watership Down/Tales of Watership Down - Richard Adams

Ways of Wood Folk - William J. Long

Welkin Weasels series - Garry Kilworth

West of Eden - Harry Harrison

Whalesong Trilogy - Robert Siegel

Whale - Jeremy Lucas

Whispers in the Forest - Barbara Coultry

White Wolf - Henrietta Branford

White Fang - Jack London

Wild Lone - Denys Watkins-Pitchford

Wild Animals I Have Known - Ernest Thompson Seton

Wings of Fire series - Tui T. Sutherland

Winterset Hollow - Jonathan Edward Durham

Wolf: The Journey Home | Hungry for Home: A Wolf Odyssey - Asta Bowen

Wolf Brother series - Michelle Paver

Wolf Chronicles - Dorothy Hearst

Wolves of the Beyond series - Kathryn Lasky

Woodstock Saga - Michael Tod

A Whale of the Wild - Rosanne Parry

A Wolf Called Wander - Rosanne Parry

The Waters of Nyra - Kelly Michelle Baker

The Wolves of Elementa series - Sophie Torro

The Wolves of Time - William Horwood

The Wolf Chronicles Series - Teng Rong

The Way of Kings - Louise Searl

The White Bone - Barbara Gowdy

The White Fox/Singing Tree - Brian Parvin

The White Puma - Ronald Lawrence

The Wild Road & The Golden Cat - Gabriel King

The Wildings & The Thousand names of darkness - Nilanjana Roy

The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame

The Wind Protect You - Pat Murphy

The Wolves of Paris - Daniel P. Mannix

Y

Yellow eyes - Rutherford Montgomery

The Year Of The Dinosaur - Edwin H. Colbert

Z

Zones of Thought series - Vernor Vinge

Z-Verse series by R.H

Comic Books/Graphic Novels

Animosity - Marguerite Bennett

Age of Reptiles - Ricardo Delgado

Legend - Samuel Sattin Koehler

Mouse Guard - David Petersen

Pride of Baghdad - Brian K. Vaughan & Niko Henrichon

Rover Red Charlie - Garth Ennis & Michael Dipascale

Stray Dogs - Tony Fleecs & Trish Forstner

We3 - Grant Morrison & Frank Quitely

Beasts of Burden - Evan Dorkin & Jill Thompson

LOBO: Canine Crusader of the Metal Wasteland - Macs-World-Ent

The Sandman: Dream of a Thousand Cats - Neil Gaiman

Animal Castle - Xavier Dorison & Felix Delep

Blacksad Series - Juan Díaz Canales & Juanjo Guarnido

Scurry - Mac Smith

The Snowcat Prince - Dina Norlund

Rankless - Maggie Lightheart

Picture Books

Steve the Dung Beetle: On a Roll - Susan R. Stoltz & Melissa Bailey

Hot Dog - Doug Salati

The Rock from the Sky - Jon Klassen

Whoever Heard of a Flying Bird? - David Cunliffe & Ivan Barrera

A Cat Named Whiskers - Shana Gorian

Ocean Tales Children's Books Series - Sarah Cullen & Zuzana Sbodová

Jake the Growling Dog - Samantha Shannon

Webcomics

A

Africa - Arven92

After Honour - genstaelens

Awka - Nothofagus-obliqua

Arax - Azany

Amarith - Eredhys

The Apple's Echo - Helianthanas

Alone - Magpeyes

B

The Blackblood Alliance - KayFedewa

The Betrothed - Kibisca

Black Tyrant - Zapp-BEAST

Blue - HunterBeingHunted

Beast Tags - TheRoomPet

Spy - Utahraptor93

Be Reflected in my Eyes - Aquene-lupetta

C

Carry your voice - TacoBella

Caelum Sky - ALRadeck

Crescent Wing - Mikaley

Crescent Moonlight - AnimalCrispy

City of Trees - SanjanaIndica

Corpse - doeprince/ratt

D

Darbi - Sherard Jackson

The Devils Demons - Therbis

Doe of Deadwood - Songdogx

Dyten - Therbis

Desperation - PracticelImagination

E

Equus Siderae - Dalgeor

Empyrean - Leonine-Skies

Enchantment - FeralWolf1234

F

Fox Fires - Pipilia

Forget me Not - Nitteh

Fjeld - Dachiia

Felinia - Rainy-bleu

G

Golden Shrike - doeprince/ratt

Ghost of the Gulag - David Derrick Jr.

H

Horse Age - BUGHS-22

Hiraeth - AFlameThatNeverDies

Half-Blood - majkaria

Horns of Light - ThatMoonySky

I

I Hope So - Detective Calico

The Ivory Walk - TacoBella

I'm not Ready - Wolfkingdom372

J

Jet and Harley - doeprince

K

Kestrel Island - Silverphoenix

Kin - Fienduredraws

KuroMonody - IrisBdz

Krystal - Nitteh

The King of Eyes - CloverTailedFox09

L

Legend of Murk - Azany

LouptaOmbra - Loupta Ombra (OngakuK, MlleNugget & joeypony)

Leopards bring rain - Kyriuar

M

Mazes of Filth - petitecanine

Minimal All You Are - mike-princeofstars

N

Nine Riders - SpiriMuse

No Man's Land - TacoBella

Never seen the Day - R3dk3y

Norra - shadowmirku

O

Obsidian Fire - SolinaBright

Oren's Forge - teagangavet

Off-White - Akreon

Out Of Time - IndiWolf

R

Rabbit on the Moon - Songdogx & Nitteh

The Rabbit Hole - Detrah

RunningWolf Mirari - Mirella Menciassi

Raptor - ElenPanter

Redriver - FireTheWolf777

Repeat - Songdogx

S

Scurry - Mac Smith

Simbol - Zoba22

Spirit Lock - Animal Crispy

The Sylcoe - Denece-the-sylcoe

Sunder - Aurosoul

T

Tainted Hearts - Therbis

Taxicat - owlburrow

That's Freedom Guyra - Nothofagus-obliqua

Three Corners: A Kitten's Story - Lara Frizzell

Tofauti Sawa - TheCynicalHound

Two of a Kind - ProjectNao

To Catch a Star - SleepySundae

U

Under the Ash Tree - ChevreLune

Uninvited - Nothofagus-obliqua

W

Water Wolves - LuckyStarhun

What Lurks Beneath - ArualMeow

Water Wolves - LuckyStarhun

Wild Wolves - Lombarsi

White Tail - SleepySundae

What's your damage? - FrostedCanid

The Wolves of Chena - Yamis-Art

Waves Always Crash - Hellhunde

The Whale's Heart - Possumteeeth [Warriors Fancomic]

Manga

A Centaur's Life - Murayama Kei

Beastars - Paru Itagaki

Chi's Sweet Home - Kanata Konami

Ginga Series [Silverfang] - Yoshihiro Takahashi

Gon - Masashi Tanaka

Houseki no Kuni | Land of the Lustrous - Haruko Ichikawa

Inugami-Kai - Masaya Hokazono

The Jungle Emperor - Osamu Tezuka

My roommate is a cat - Minatsuki & Asu Futatsuya

Crimsons – The Scarlet Navigators of the Ocean - Kanno Takanori

Rooster Fighter - Shū Sakuratani

Simoun - Shō Aikawa

The Fox & Little Tanuki - Mi Tagawa

Yuria 100 Shiki - Nobuto Hagio

Massugu ni Ikou - Kira

Cat Soup

The Amazing 3

Cat + Gamer - Wataru Nadatani

Animated Series

#

101 Dalmatians: The series & 101 Dalmatian Street

A

A Polar Bear in Love

B

Baja no Studio

Bagi: Monster of Mighty Nature

Bannertail: The Story of Gray Squirrel

Bluey

C

Centaurworld (2021)

Chirin's Bell

Chironup no Kitsune

D

Dokkun Dokkun

E

F

G

Gamba no Bouken

H

Hazbin Hotel

I

Invader ZIM

Inu to Neko Docchi mo Katteru to Mainichi Tanoshii

J

K

King Fang

Koisuru Shirokuma

Kemushi no Boro

Kewang Lantian

Konglong Baobei: Shiluo De Wenming

L

Little Polar Bear

M

Manxmouse's Great Activity

Mitsubachi Maya no Bouken

Mikan Enikki

Massugu ni Ikou -

My Life as a Teenage Robot

Mikan Enikki

N

O

Ore, Tsushima

Okashi na Sabaku no Suna to Manu

P

Primal

Polar Bear Cafe

Q

R

Robotboy (2005)

S

Seton Doubutsuki: Risu no Banner

Simoun

T

The Amazing 3

Tottoko Hamtarou

The Adventure of Qiqi and Keke

Tama & Friends: Third Street Story

U

V

W

Watership Down (2018) & Watership Down (1999)

What's Michael?

Wolf's Rain

Wonder Pets

X

Y

Live-Action/Hybrid show

Fantasy High

A Crown of Candy 

Burrow's End

Good Omens

Webseries

Dinosauria - Dead Sound

My Pride - tribbleofdoom

Whitefall - Chylk

The Stolen Hope - Galemtido

Dragon's Blood - FluffyGinger

Helluva Boss -

Murder Drones -

Short Films

A

Alone a wolf's winter

B

Baja's Studio

Beautiful Name

Burrow

C

Cat Piano

Cat Soup

Chicken Little

D

E

F

Far From the Tree

Ferdinand the Bull

Frypan Jiisan

G

Genji Fantasy: The Cat Fell in Love With Hikaru Genji

Gaitou to Neko

H

Hao Mao Mimi

Houzi Dian Bianpao

I

J

Je T'aime

K

Kitbull

L

Lava

Lambert the sheepish lion

Laoshu Jia Nu

M

Mahoutsukai no Melody

Monmon the Water Spider

Mushroom - Nakagawa Sawako

N

O

Of Mice and Clockworks

Osaru no Tairyou

P

Piper

Q

R

Robin Robin

Rusuban

S

Sauria - Dead Sound

Smash and Grab

Street of Crocodiles

She and Her Cat

Space Neko Theater

Shiroi Zou | White Elephant

Shi | Food

Sugar, With a Story

Straw-saurus NEO

T

The Chair

The Blue Umbrella

The Shell Shocked Egg

The Dog Door

The Dog In The Alley

That's Why They Were Made

U

Ushigaeru

V

W

With a Dog AND a Cat, Every Day is Fun

X

Y

Z

Zhui Shu

Animated Films

#

101 Dalmatians duology

A

A Monkey's Tale (1999)

All Dogs go to Heaven

The Adventures of Lolo the Penguin

Alpha and Omega saga

An American Tail

The Aristocats

Antz

Animals United

Annabelle's Wish (1997)

Alakazam the great (1960)

B

Back Outback

Balto

Bambi / Bambi II

Bolt

Brother Bear / Brother Bear II

A Bug's Life

The Big Bad Fox and Other Tales

Bee Movie

The Brave Little Toaster

Birds of a Feather

Back to the Forest

C

Cars

Chance

Chicken Run

D

Dinosaur

Speckles: The Tarbosaurus || Dino King: Journey to Fire Mountain

Dumbo

DC League of Super-Pets

E

Elemental

F

Fantastic Mr. Fox

Fantastic Planet

Felidae

The Fox and the Hound

Finding Nemo/Finding Dory

Free Birds

The Fearless Four

G

The Good Dinosaur

Ghost in the Shell

Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio

H

Happy Feet/Happy Feet Two

Help! I'm a Fish

Home on the Range

Hoero! Bun Bun Movie

Hokkyoku no Muushika Miishika

I

Ice Age Franchise

Isle of Dogs

I Am T-Rex

J

Jungledyret Hugo

K

Koati

The King of Tibetan Antelope

Kuma no Gakkou trilogy

L

Lady and the Tramp

The Land Before time Franchise

The Last Unicorn

Leafy, A Hen in the wild

Little Big Panda

The Lion King Franchise

Lucky and Zorba

Lilo & Stitch

Luca

Last Day of the Dinosaurs

M

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

Marona's Fantastic Tale

Millionaire Dogs

My Friend Tyranno

Minuscule: Valley of the Lost Ants || Minuscule - Mandibles from Far Away

Mouse and His Child

N

Nezumi Monogatari: George to Gerald no Bouken

O

Oliver & Company

One Stormy Night

Over the Edge

P

Padak

The Plague Dogs

Pompoko

Pinocchio by Guillermo del Toro

Pipi Tobenai Hotaru

R

Raggedy Ann & Andy: A Musical Adventure

Rango

Ratatouille

Raven the Little Rascal

Reynard the Fox (1989)

Rio

Robots

Rock a Doodle

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1998)

The Rabbi’s Cat

S

Samson and Sally

Sahara

The Secret of Nihm

The Secret Life of Pets/The Secret Life of Pets II

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron

Sheep & Wolves

The Seventh Brother

A Stork's Journey

Stowaways on the Ark

T

A Turtle's Tale

The One and Only Ivan

Toy Story

Twilight of the Cockroaches (1987)

The Trumpet of the Swan

The Enchanted Journey

U

Unico

Underdog

V

Vuk the Little Fox

W

WALL·E

Watership Down (1978)

White Fang

Wizards

The Wild

Wolf Children

Wolfwalkers

X

Y

You Are Umasou

Z

Zootopia

Live Action/CGI Assisted Movies

Au Hasard Balthazar

Beverly Hills Chihuahua franchise

Cats & Dogs franchise

Charlotte's Web

EO

Fluke (1995) - Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer

Homeward Bound duology (1963 & 1996) - Disney

The Legend of Lobo (1962) - Disney

Strays (2023) - Universal Pictures

Pride (2024) - BBC

101 Dalmatians duology (1996 & 2000)

Theather

Cats

Videogames

Animalia Survival - High Brazil Studio

Cattails - Falcon Development

Endling: Extinction is Forever

Gibbon: Beyond the trees - Broken Rules

The Lonesome Fog - Might and Delight

Meadow - Might and Delight

Niche - Stray Fawn Studio

Shelter / Shelter 2/ Shelter 3 - Might and Delight

Paws - Might and Delight

Stray - BlueTwelve Studio

The WILDS - Gluten Free Games

Wolf Quest - eduweb

Golden Treasure: The Great Green - Dreaming Door Studios

Spirit of the North - Infuse Studio

Ōkami - Clover Studio

Rain World - Videocult

Feather - Samurai Punk

Eagle Flight - Ubisoft Montreal Studio

Copoka - Inaccurate Interactive

Untitled Goose Game - House House

PaRappa - NanaOn-Sha

Night in the Woods - Infinite Fall & Secret Lab

Monster Prom - Beautiful Glitch

Them's Fightin' Herds - Mane6

Toontown

E.V.O.: Search for Eden - Givro Corporation

(Pretty much most of Might and Delight games)

Online Browser Games

Lioden

Wolvden

Flight Rising

Lorwolf

Table Top Games

Bunnies & Burrows

Chronicles of Darkness

Wanderhome

Mage: The Awakening

Werewolf: The Apocalypse

Pugmire

Three Raccoons in a Trench Coat

World Tree (RPG)

Pawpocalypse

Heckin' Good Doggos

Humblewood

Dungeons & Dragons

Music

In My Eyes You're a Giant - Sonata Arctica

It Won't Fade - Unia

The Cage - Winterheart's Guild

Other Online Projects

Youtubers

Cardinal West

Xenofiction Reviews

Gen. Videos

Trope Talk: Small Mammal on a Big Adventure by Overly Sarcastic Productions

Franchises

Sonic the Hedgehog

My little pony

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Hamtaro

Pokemon

Digimon

Kirby

Monter High

Tom & Jerry

Baldur’s Gate

Maya the Bee

The Little Polar Bear

#xenofiction #fantasy #masterlist #wip #scifi #fiction #Youtube

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

29 - Shrouded Truth in Sickness

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 14k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past child illness and death, mild mentions of violence, mild disturbing imagery, smut, p in v, light sexual descriptions

Notes: Jon is in fact not wearing a fur cloak in any of these scenes, unlike the show. As Dragonstone is very far South and is in fact, way too warm and humid for fur, Now, none of that matters, but it's important to me that you know that. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

For all that you had been doing, you could hardly remember much of what was said as you all sat around the painted table. Much of the Royal Fleet was typically at Dragonstone as it was far more advantageous then from King’s Landing, so for much of the fourteen years Robert had been King thus had allowed your father to serve his duty from home. On one hand it meant you stood watching him leave harbour for war so shortly since your return home. Yet, it also had meant only two short months later, you stood in the exact same spot watching him return. 

High on the black stones down to the shores you had stood high up, holding Shireen up right by your cheek and waving her tiny arm at the ships coming home. She had finally been old enough you could take her on simple walks around the castle grounds telling her stories the whole while of father. Your mother had said she would not be able to understand you, but you cared little. Always bright and animated as you spoke to her she was always engaged with what you said even as she neared three months. 

You perhaps had gotten used to how to talk to young infant girls like so from the last number of trips you had made to Winterfell. The first return you made was when you had met Lord and Lady Stark’s first daughter. A bright hair of Tully red, even moreso then Lady Catelyn herself, Maester Luwin had jested that little Sansa must have strong Tully in her blood more then Robb. She was a well behaved girl, quiet if not a bit fussy at times but you were quick to play big sister with her at that very young age. 

Arya was more of the one however, that prepared you in the end.

Mischievous and loud, always looking for something to do, or someone to play with her and she had latched onto you quite quickly. By the time you had returned home some months ago, your mother was about ready to birth Shireen. Shortly after she came into this world, father left for war so you had spent two months doing everything you could do ensure she didn’t feel neglected. She even at so young, had a babbling energy about her that clearly little Arya had prepared you to handle. 

So when father returned, it felt odd to suddenly be pulled back from spending time with her as he insisted on keeping you focused on your lessons. It was one night such as those where your father had his men all meeting around the painted table, your mother still recovering from giving birth and thus Shireen was left under the watch of her Septa. You were up with your father, sitting only a few chairs down from him with paper and ink in front of you. 

You had one easy task, or at least, one task with a simple rule. Everything spoken in that meeting, you were to write and translate, and it would be checked to make sure you had not let your time North let you forget all of your language lessons. Whatever they had been talking about, you scarcely recalled however. 

Reaching for the ink once more, your hand had hovered in place over it. In fact, all of you seemed to have stopped. Your Uncle Alester had later said that it looked almost as if you had accidentally caught sight of the candle lit flames situated near the empty middle of the painted table and had no longer had the ability to look away. The reflection in your eyes was tense, and you seemed not to have realized you were not paying any attention or moving. 

Only when he had called your name did it pull you out of it. But as if having no awareness of where you had been, your hand dropped and thus knocked the small glass bottle of ink all over. Some spilling onto the wooden writing desk sat on your lap, the bottle crashed down with a smash all across the floor and spilling more ink onto there and most it had made it’s way all over the front of your dress. 

The sudden onslaught of sensations had startled you greatly, causing you to jump from your seat with a gasp and all eyes flew over to you with various stays of confusion as to your outburst. But all you could do, was stammer. Looking at your father with no explanation as to what happened, but he had simply dismissed you, that he would look over what you had done up to that point tomorrow. 

The walk back to the corridors where your room and now Shireens room sat was frustrating. You uselessly wiped at the ink now ruined the dress on you with no understanding of what really happened between you in the middle of correcting a word you translated incorrectly to flying back as you had sent the bottle of ink all over you and the floor. 

All you did was reach your hand up, and your eyes caught glance of the flickering flames of the candles in the middle of the table and it was enough to take your mind away. Had that been all of it, you might have recalled looking into the flames and seeing strange images flying through it and painting across your eyes as they transfixed you to them. Until your uncle had called your name did it coincide with another calling your name that you, at the time, didn’t recognize, and it forced you back to the room you sat in. 

But, it wasn’t the only thing to happen that night, and thus it was forgotten for a while.

Passing through the corridors, you could feel the damp, stuffy air even from the distance and huffed in annoyance. You walked a bit further, peeking enough into Shireen’s room so that you could both see your Septa, but not enough she could see your dress and lecture you. “My father says I am to watch Shireen for the remainder of the night, that you need not return until mid morning.” Her brows narrowed as she looked up from the cross stitching she had been working on, calling your name in sternness.

Before she could say anything more though, you disappeared beyond the corner shouting, “Please leave her door open, I will only be a moment.” You heard her sigh and grumble but as you hid somewhat behind your heavy door you could tell she had left. Giving you the chance to peel off the ruined dress before she could see, changing into something much more simple but warmer. 

Only some minutes later and you made your way into her room. Shireen looked asleep when you had poked your head in, but it seemed the sound of your voice pulled her awake. Her infant’s bed with wooden pulls just enough that she could slumber without falling, you pulled the front and sides all the way down as she blinked awake more with a babbling on her lips. 

Standing up you moved to the largest window which had the ability to open, to the edge of the room, which Septa Moelle had closed. Annoyed you shook your head as you spoke to your sister in a dramatic manner, “Oh it is far too cold child, I will freeze to death before the night is even up.” Dropping to a more normal tone, “Honestly Shireen, you’d think she grew up in Dorne how much she complains of such cold. This is nothing,” your head turning to glance at her now sitting up more to watch you, “Wait until you come North with me in some years, now that is what cold truly is.” 

The cool breeze filtered in with a nice rush over your exposed skin that alleviated the damp air around the castle. Glancing to her once more, she seemed content as every to just have you speak at her. Unlike your mothers insistence, Maester Cressen said that as long as you speak to an infant, it helps them learn language faster. So it was alright she would not properly understand you for some time. 

“Now, which story should we read tonight? If you have any suggestions, speak up.” Turning back you ran your hands over a pile of books you had brought in to her room. Ones you did not care to read or keep for yourself anymore, however you thought she may was well see for herself if she found any interest in dragons and wars long passed.

So you begun to read the stories to her, spending many nights you sat crossed legged on her or your bed, with her propped up comfortably in your lap with a book open before both of you. You would read carefully out loud, pointing to each sentence you read as her bright green eyes followed intently. 

Voice morphing into low and high pitches of differing theatrics when you would go over something whimsical happening, gasping and pointing to drawings attached and helping guide her tiny hand to where you were pointing. Sometimes repeating certain words until she babbled out more nonsense before pressing a kiss to her cheek until she giggled. 

Four times now your mother had lost one of your brothers, and now The Mother had finally heard your prayers and hers and granted a child. A sister, and you were taking full advantage of what you were beginning to think you’d never have. 

Biting your lip in thought, your nails tapped against the cover of one book about The Young Dragon in consideration, when you heard a simple thud. Turning back, you saw a small doll laying flat on the ground and a little Shireen giggling along. Shaking your head, you left the books behind, walking over to her bed.

Kneeling down you recognized the doll was a brand new one father had bought from a merchant when he returned home. The dress had been hand painted to match that of the house colours even, and she clearly adored it. For the most part. 

Picking it up you placed it back on the bed, only to watch her toss it again with a smile. This time your eyebrows shot up as your mouth opened in a playful audacity. “Are we playing a game or are you just being a pest, Shireen?” Like you were a dog you fetched the doll once more, holding it in your hand up above her with a grin as you waved it from her reaching arms. “Only if you don’t throw it again.” 

This time she sat it down back on the soft bed as you took most of her attention instead as you sighed out, “Was I this much of a brat when I was your age? If so I see why father has so many grey’s already, you’ve been in this world but three months and I already feel as ancient as Maester Cressen.” You looked at her now more close up, and something made you narrow your eyes. 

It was hard to see in the low light, and Shireen only wanted to reach for you when you tried to reach in and check. Laughing you pulled back from her grabbing hands, “Hold on, silly girl, hold on.” Getting up you walked to the other side of the room to grab a lantern sat on a small table, walking over and hanging it properly up on the wall to the side of her bed. 

In the direct firelight now you sat back down facing her, reaching to gently tilt her face to the side as you tried to see what had gotten on her. “Does our Septa pay no attention, what did you get into in your nap that looks...” 

It was something unpleasant filling your veins as your voice faded out, eyes narrowing with a sharpness as you leaned in, keeping her close. It wasn’t something you grasped right away, until your hand let go of her cheek. Glancing down to the brand new doll now sitting abandoned at the side of her, you flickered your eyes back up to the mark. 

It was small almost like a tiny cut, but when you leaned in more reaching to turn her head even more so you could see, you realized that it wasn’t a cut that was on her cheek. It was a crack. A crack that sat with dry and almost flaking skin just slightly around it. In the uncomfortable pit forming in your stomach, you realized that it looked partially by the crack to be a mottled black, but the dry skin around it didn’t match the rest of her either. It almost looked-

The second you realized what colour the small patch of skin looked like, you had filled with such a sudden dreading fear that you were swooped with a painful dizziness, your hand dropping from her face in an instant. Not two seconds passed as you realized it, did your eyes and mouth widened in a horrored gasp, and you had turned and ran out of her room and down the corridor faster then you’d ever had run in your life.

Voice so loud that every man in the room around the painted table could hear you screaming in a desperate panic for your father, before you even could ascend the steps of the Stone Drum Tower. 

It had been a long time since you had a single solitary use for knowing it. The worst you could think of was that you had translated it entirely wrong and were worried for nothing, but few on this island knew how to read it. As far as you were aware, it would only be three and you certainly weren't going to bring it to the third it was for until you already knew without a doubt what it said.

The morning rained harsh over Dragonstone, and as you leaned your palms against the painted table you had to tune it all out in order to focus. You read and reread it so many times you couldn't be sure it even spoke words anymore. Maester Pylos had brought it to you, but you had looked at him with something held back as you told him to have someone fetch your father up to meet you, alone. 

Without any other word you simply had handed it to Stannis, “I need to make sure this says what I'm seeing before we do anything else.” A twist in his face your father had taken the raven scroll from you, and the translation was exactly as you feared. “You are certain?” 

Stannis looked it over again as sharp eyed as yourself. “You surpassed my skill a long time ago, if what you translated is correct then that would be more assured then my own.” 

One hand was draped across your stomach while the other let your elbow rest on your forearm and dig your nails into your bottom lip. You did not like the unease in his own gaze, turning to your father as an unsettled feeling rippled from your veins out and flowed equally through his as he continued. This if true, was something else entirely. “The last I had known of where they were, a spy of Lord Varys had reported her and her brother in Pentos.”

Shaking your head, you inhaled deeply as you stood straighter. “Apparently, she had been there to marry some Dothraki Horse Lord, last I knew of her Robert had ordered her and Viserys killed and his spy turned on him the last moment. Haven't known where she was or doing after that, I don't even know where she would have gotten..I thought all the eggs were gone.”

You could see the enormity of the skull in the underground halls of King’s Landing, and how much stories of Aegon’s Conquest were written in the worst severity known of fire and blood. Was this why he demanded Jon do the same as once done by Torrhen Stark? Bend the knee or be destroyed? 

“Evidently not. After Summerhall proved failure, it would take a lot of power to bring three to life as she clearly has. Who did this arrive for?” Gesturing to the raven scroll, but as your head tilted somewhat to the side with a narrowing look in your eye, the answer was already spoken as much. “It seems Aegon is keeping a few secrets of his own.”

The rain poured so loudly behind you, as if trying to wash out the fire already burning in your memory that flashed so green it felt as it it blinded you. You did that with nothing but wildfire, what would three flying beasts of their full potential do this time? Your voice was quiet, “You said he claimed he was the last of his family, obviously he knew about her so why lie? Why lie to us?”

His guess was as good as yours, “Garner sympathy, perhaps. Much of our family and the Starks are gone, meaning he may have presumed a plea of similar circumstances would soften our choices.” You turned around, knowing your father could see the tensity in your shoulders as you walked to the edge of the room, hands braced on the stone looking out to the rain splashing against the sea. Moments later, sensing your father approaching all the same matching the position. “We need to know what the boy knows. If he intends on bringing them to Westeros, we will need to be as prepared for it as we are for the far North.”

A squire sent out to bring Aegon up to both of you, keeping for now things all tucked away between the only ones who could even read the language sent of the writing. Speaking low, your eyes never peeled from the sea. “Why Ser Axell?” There was a small noise in his throat, the only indication of a question to elaborate. “Maester Pylos told me about the ceremony on the beach, you burned Ser Axell and two others that day.” 

Neither looked at the other, but your postures matched just as the held back coldness in your faces, his voice as controlled and tight as yours. “He was an infidel. I ordered him to tear down his idols and he disobeyed.” Your throat swallowing as you tried and failed to sense any emotion in the tone, and you couldn't help but notice that it wasn't calm dedication you sensed. 

Turning not enough to face him, but so that your voice carried just well enough to hear your muttering towards him. “He was my uncle. He was your brother by law, if you needed reminding.”

There was the tone, only, it emerged from Stannis just on the air of light enough, it made your mouth part as you twisted in something close to frustratedly amused. “If we are speaking in those terms, I could remind you that by way of your late husband, Jon Snow is your brother by law.” 

You could sense his eyes flicker to you just the slightest. Your eyes narrowing as your jaw clenched with almost a shake of your head. Whispering as your nails tapped against the stone, “Look at you, still having a sense of humour.” 

Leaning more of his forearms against the stone, you did as well. His voice low and in what only you could pick up was a slight mocking. “An ironic thing to say when it's coming from you.” That time you did turn to properly look at him with a furrowed brow. “You have many strengths, but humour is not one of them.” 

Matching his stance, you smirked half heartedly now both Baratheons watching the water. You chuckled just a bit, and so did he.

Your voice however, dropped back once more. “Everything got worse once I was dead, didn't it? This, my mother, the red woman. I don't know if I can say it only is coincidence all of this fanaticism got much worse after you all thought I was gone.” Stannis nodded, as your head dropped. Lungs tightening you tried to push out the thought that no one was responsible for your own families continued demise but each other. Maybe you were all destined to become this way. 

“I've never asked you to believe as me and your mother do. She took to it more, a true believer your mother is. Even now, she takes is to her heart and no matter what you dislike about it, it is something I see in too.” Your hand reached up, fiddling with what you had begun to think of as Shireen's necklace, for just a moment to keep your eyes dry. “But losing you, and realizing I could have done something to help prevent it and didn't? Your mother and I hadn't known we were to have a grandson until you were already dead. So yes, in our grief, in my guilt we let ourselves believe in it stronger then we should have allowed. That I should have allowed.” 

Unlike her necklace, you didn't reach down to run over where your scar was under your dress. You didn't want to once more feel it sink into you and twist as it had too many days since.

He continued quiet, your eyes both now on the sea of your home, and nothing but a heavy weight sat between you that hadn't been allowed to sit for a long time. If ever. “I almost lost you once, and then I actually did. All the same with Shireen. I can't change that, all I can do is work to be better then I am. Better then I was. I couldn't protect my daughters when it mattered most, and I will never have a bigger failure as my duty of a father then that.” 

It was quiet between you, looking out to the rain as it slightly blew now to mist gently over your hair when you thought of it. That you desperately hoped that in his final moments, Eddard Stark did not feel as if he failed his daughters. No matter where they were now, alive or dead, at least your father was alive to see it get better. 

But hearing the strain in your fathers voice even as he leaned just like you against the stone edge with a calm disposition, you dared not think of how it would have felt for Ned to die with that kind of guilt. 

By the time he arrived in the room, both you and your father had moved onto opposite sides of the table. The rain still pouring as Aegon closed the heavy door behind him, looking between you both with  a distrusting glare. Stannis gesturing towards the raven now sat by the edge of the table where the blue haired dragon had come in with a much more lack of patience in his tone then he had with you. “You speak High Valyrian, I presume. What do you make of that?” 

Both of you watched with close eyes as he read it over, but there were few which could hide their surprise, or shock, as well as they thought they could from both Baratheons. Glancing up slowly as his grip tightened on it, you wondered just how much of this information he might not have known in so much detail. If the unnerved silence matching his clenched jaw, spoke of. 

His voice was as controlled as any. “I presume neither of you brought me up here hoping I could translate this for you.” Your eyes were cold and without a single blink as they found his blues. “You already know what this translates as, what do you want me to say?”

Your voice came out as sharp and hissing as was the look in your eyes, hands perched on a chair in front of you. “We want you to tell us what exactly you know. About her, about them,” Your head gesturing to the raven he still held. “You do not get to stand there and pretend as if we do not all know what kind of a threat this could be. Your blood ties to that family does not excuse you from hiding something as important as this from people.” 

Glaring at you, he ran a hand over his face. Pacing to the side as you and Stannis both watched before he put the raven scroll back on the painted table. If whatever lie he was about to conjure up was confident, your fathers stern tone to almost shout over the rain took every chance of that away. “You came to us pleading for peace only days ago, that you are the last of your family and yet now we know for a fact that across the Narrow Seas, Daenerys Targaryean has living dragons. How about you start with why you lied, considering the King in the North and myself did nothing but lay out nothing but our true intentions to you.” 

Three monarchs were alone in the darkness of the room of the painted table, but for once it was the Targaryean heir which held not a single ally to look to. It took him a good while to find such words, and it had him on edge as neither you nor Stannis moved an inch waiting for him to speak. Glancing up between you both he sighed, then paced as he spoke instead. “I'm supposed to marry her, Daenerys.” 

If Aegon had noticed the brief glance as you and Stannis shared a twisting grimace he didn't mention it. At least you knew your father well enough that his comment about Jon was a joke. 

“They all thought it would strengthen my claim if I did, but if you had not noticed, I came here alone without her. I still have never even met her. I told you I was the last of my family, because as far as I've ever met, I am. I didn't even know her whereabouts until..” Hand gesturing to the raven scroll. 

It had said that she was finally reported by Vaes Dothrak atop a dragon, but that there were still some to be suspected under the temple of Mereen which was under her control. Your father's tone was before, was indistinguishably short and unimpressed as yours coming out. 

Stepping around the chair you came much more into his view, snatching a ship from the painted table's layout which was used to represent the Golden Companys own fleet, leaning against the side of it with your back against the table, staring unblinkingly harsh at the Targaryean. “Tell us what you know about them. Her dragons.” 

The fact that Aegon had to look down to meet you in the eyes took nothing away from the cold intensity that gave away nothing in such a firm stature. “The one spotted by Vaes Dothrak, is the largest, Drogon.” 

Your hands easily tearing off a sail from the wooden figure as you repeated but in a quiet mutter, almost mocking his more meek tone. “Drogon,” 

“She has two others, reportedly locked in the dungeons of the temple in Mereen. Viserion,” Ripping off another sail, you chucked it along the painted table once more as your eyebrows raised, repeating the name. Aegon glanced with what almost was to be a sigh to Stannis before finding again, no ally as he returned to you. “And Rhaegal.” 

Nodding, you tore the last sail off. “Rhaegal.” Nothing left of it, you under tossed it roughly to slam against the painted table, knocking down what other wooden ships sat by to represent that of Dragonstone. “We could have three dragons flying to our shores any day, and we would be powerless to resist. What does that say about your intentions that you chose to share this with none of the two Kings seeking peace on this island, until I had to translate your raven before it got to you.” Your head tilting to gesture to Stannis. 

The man himself, looked none impressed as he too moved closer. “I spent four years at war trying to press my claim for the Seven Kingdoms, and yet I've put that on hold beacuse I can't rule Kingdoms that do not exist once winter arrives.” Your eyes forced to stay in place, not to ask him about it, it wasn't the time nor your business about his involvement with the Nights Watch. “You and this woman mean to bring dragons back to our lands, scorch our earth and massacre our people when already a war is coming for us from the North.” 

For all spoken of being the last dragon, and the fire and blood of the family known for their undeserving pride, there was something not quite comfortable as he swallowed. He hadn’t spoken a word of this since you all had been here, and you were dizzy trying to connect it all to a why. “I never wanted..I didn't ask to be involved in her affairs. They tried to convince me to ask her for help but I said no. I came here without them, I got the Golden Company on my own to follow, I didn't need her help, and-”

Something in him stopped, as he looked between you both. Walking to the head of the painted table his hands braced against the top of the chair there. You and Stannis both shared a glance, something unsure of trust in both your eyes but allowed him to gather his thoughts.

“I know what they say about my grandfather, the things he had done. Hearing is one thing, but, knowing one of your own is out there doing all of that and worse is another.” Looking up to you both, finding something it seemed, a bit less difficult to look in the eye as something freezing washed over yours. “They say she performed some kind of blood magic to hatch her dragons, sacrificing her own slave, and ever since she’s let them turn her into a conqueror.” A drop to more of a strained whisper, “And despite my namesake, I do not use that title mindlessly, I assure you both.” 

You saw green and screaming, what you had done to even be rid of the wildfire brought to your shores was more monstrous then you ever imagined doing and yet it was nothing compared to what three dragons would accomplish. 

Aegon continued looking between you both now finding confidence in what likely he had rarely spoken of and finally getting out as terrifying as it kept becoming, “In Essos, her brutality is already legendary. She has taken the Unsullied for herself, and burned their previous masters alive. She crucified hundreds of noblemen in Slaver's Bay without a second thought, even boys as young as twelve for simply who they were born as without ever due trial for who as guilty and who wasn't. And when she grew bored of that, she fed the rest of her enemies to her dragons.” 

You tried to find the right words more then once, but Stannis settling on a calmer disbelief for his thoughts attached. “Why keep such a close eye on her movements if you didn't intend to warn of it?”

It now was even move clear, Lord Varys had kept a certain degree of strange information from these people. “My – Lord Connington wishes for me to take her as a wife. Secure a powerful rule on the Iron Throne and if so then have use of her dragons as well. I chose to sail here without her instead. I shouldn’t have to go running to my aunt for help like some beggar.” 

A low hiss in your own whisper finally clawed back at what he was focusing on. “This isn’t about who you wish to marry. We are not here to help you with a family dispute, we are fighting a war coming from beyond the wall-” Stopping the raise in your voice, you stepped back for a moment as your hand pressed to your forehead with a harsh pressure. Turning away until it eased up, you looked back to your father, only nodding once at you, letting you speak your peace, albeit calmer.

Facing Aegon once more, you gestured to Stannis before pacing closer and closer to the dragon. “He and Jon are the only Kings who care to protect the realm, before something we know nothing about comes for us all. What use is everything we have sacrificed if armies of Unsullied and Dothraki come to destroy the people’s homes, rape and enslave our women and children? Watch it be burned down by dragons and the daughter of the man Jons father and mine fought to overthrow?”

It didn’t matter if Aegon or anyone didn’t believe in what winter storms would blew through the realm without a second thought. The world seemed to be closing in on you, ice on one side and fire from the other and both were just as terrifying. 

You felt as if he were looming over you increasing in his own frustration as his face twisted to anger, stepping closer to you. Stannis on the other side circling around quietly as the Targaryean stood tall and large in your face with anger. “I don’t want any of that, I didn’t conquer lands or burn down innocent people just to call myself a King. I was raised to be better then that, better then her. I told Jon Connington I was the only dragon he needed, and I meant that. I don’t need to ride on a dragon the size of Balerion the Dread. I want people to want me as their King not be scared of me.” 

Narrowed eyes stabbed within the gaze of the other as Stannis stood now enough by him that Aegons shoulders tensed, your fathers voice was low and calmer. “Yet you are still demanding Jon Snow and myself, bend the knee and swear fealty to you.” The blue haired dragon only glared at you as you did him. “Knowing he and I, would be giving up everything we've fought for.” 

Biting your tongue as you inhaled, trying to keep your heart calmer before you muttered through more gritted teeth. “I stood against my father for three years thinking we would one day go to war with one another, and now he and Jon are working side by side to protect their people from the Others.” 

Looking between you both, the rain pouring down just outside the castle walls filling the air, Aegon swallowed. “If I don't fight for my right-”

Your father finished for him however, his voice low, and a sympathy within that had Aegon turn from you entirely to look. Not a comforting man Stannis Baratheon, but an understanding one. “I once thought that if I did not press my claim, that my claim would be forgotten. That I would be just a page in someone else's history books, but I'm not fighting for it now. Not here. I saw the truth, and it is coming no matter if you believe us. But we have been honest, you kept this from us.” His head nodding to the raven. “You mean to cut off our legs and leave us crippled to Daenerys Targaryean and her dragons, all so you can pursue the Iron Throne without competition. I would suggest reconsidering Jon Snow's offer to discuss terms with him, he convinced me this war the most important one, maybe if you have enough intellect left in you, he will do the same again.”

You had told Aegon you would go fetch for Jon yourself, sending him off closer to the main grounds of the castle as the rain only barley begun to ease up. Before turning the corridor, you looked back to the dragon before he could turn away. An unpleasant glare in his own eyes that faded into conflict as they drifted into anger. “If you wish to follow your ancestors, be that Rhaegar or your own namesake, we cannot stop you. But he won't kneel for you. Jon is not Torrhen Stark, and he never will be. But winter is coming, and we're running out of time, Aegon. Which means you're running out of time.”

Many woodland creatures looked at the approaching figure as a beast, large and terrifying as sharp eyes saw all. No noise was made other then small ones scattered about as if they knew they weren’t to be food for this one. 

It was never not strange, especially now so far away to do so. So many times at the wall it would happen in his sleep and he tried to tell himself otherwise. They were only dreams he’d think to himself as he woke in the morning. At night Jon’s mind was filled with too much thought, too much work, and too much impending doom looming over the horizon of the far North and every night he found no solace. He dreamt of direwolves. 

Control is what a warg was said to be able to do. Find their consciousness inside that of an animal and control them of your own, and yet sometimes Jon doubted it was as simple as such. Each time he had found himself seeing through Ghost’s eyes he found himself knowing what he knew and needing no explanation to follow what path he was already on. 

Was Jon really the one in control of Ghost, or did they share that consciousness together? Because as he walked through the snowy lands of the wolfswood, Jon knew he was following tracks that of other wolves. He knew what he was searching for and there was no reason he should, but he would walk at night through the trees and search as Ghost would alone. 

Sometimes he would sit in on the meetings of the Lords in charge for him. At first questioning the appearance of the giant creature but settling once they saw he would only sit silent right where he could see the whole room. But now, as he walked the morning through the woods, he realized what Ghost had realized before him, or together he surmised. 

Whoever the wolves were which he seemed to be stalking, one left tracks that too large for normal ones. Ones Jon would step right into with a front paw and fit perfectly. Out in the wolfswood around Winterfell, Ghost was searching for the trace of another direwolf. 

He could hear something else in the distance. A mist somewhere on his person, that was followed by pouring of rain overhead and waves crashing against the rocks. It was that which kept Jon from losing where and who he was.

It was harder some days then other to remember he was a man. He would be back in the snowy North, his paws sunk deep into a drift of snow as he stood on the edge of a great cliff. Or dreams suddenly finding his mind inside of Ghost during a hunt, and he suddenly needed to kill and fill his stomach with fresh meat and dark blood. 

The feeling would startle him awake sometimes, the night before he had awoken just as his blood red eyes found, ironically, prey in that of a deer. For a few seconds, he couldn’t quite come back from how much Ghost’s hunger woke Jon, making his own mouth water. His hands tensed as if still paws and his nails acting as claws, Jon realized he was digging his nails deep into your hip almost drawing blood, and the force already bruising the skin. 

You hadn’t at least, woken up at the pain, Jon had well worn you out only hours before. 

But as he stood there now, his mind only was pulled back by the sudden sensation over his fur of delicate nails, scratching gently along his spine as he let a low growl out. But was the airy, quiet whisper making his ears twitch did Jon pull his mind back, reminding himself once more he was a man. “Jon,” A soft voice far from the North and Jon had to focus to come back. He was not a wolf. His hands had been braced against a high railing and his gloved hands strained at the pressure as the rainy skies of Dragonstone returned. 

You knew before you had even gotten to his side, his stiff posture unmoving but also with a tensity that was not indicative of the isolated spot around him. It would take not much more but a gentle coaxing to pull Jon back, not wanting to startle whatever path Ghost was taking him on so far away. You had almost felt bad, it was clear he missed the direwolf and there was little doubt Ghost missed him just as much. 

Letting him wander the North in the eyes of Ghost was also simply a way to bond with his companion so far from one another. 

Much work had been done under the grounds of the island. Tunnels and strange pathways that with enough men stretched deep and far with caches of Dragonglass amongst the strange sparkle of a cave that stood around you like a dreaming sky. 

Dragonglass was not for much use elsewhere, but it was certainly a very hard material to cut through, all tools needing to be as sharp as each others and as long as what broke off of the walls came down without shattering into tiny pieces that was all that was needed. It wasn’t the solution to save his people, it was a resort needed to protect those who otherwise won’t be able to protect themselves from what was coming. It killed the Others, it killed wights and if something came for you it was enough to survive. 

The rest of it all however, was trickier. But one step at a time, too much and winter would overtake everything and blind Jon and yourself to what needed to be done.  

It was almost adorable, the way you gently approached him softly whispering his name, and seeing even as his eyes paled over with an eeiry white, his brows furrowed in a brief confusion. For a moment it was almost as if a growl formed deep in his chest as you ran your hand flat and lightly up his spine before returned to you, blinked away the white and once more his grey eyes came back.

Not pressing him on what he was doing, instead he seemed to have gotten the message that you were trying to address him in a manner that wouldn’t tip off he was elsewhere as his back was turned. A flicker of his eyes to you, and you spoke low with a stoic look in your eye but a splash of amusement tinged behind your breath. “Aegon has decided he would like to discuss terms with the King in the North, peacefully that is.”

Jon’s eyes glanced more to your slightly clenched jaw and rigid posture, a small rasp as his hands tightened against the stone he was braced against as the wolfish sensation crept out slowly. “Are you and Stannis not invited?” 

Shrugging a shoulder, you didn't want to weigh him down just now with what was discussed just yet, hoping the dragon would be reasonable otherwise with Jon as many were. “We already spoke, however I wouldn't say it went very well. It could be he is a difficult one to work with, or..” 

Jons voice was low as it was amused, “Or it could just be beacuse it's you and Stannis.”

That pulled a chuckle from you, pulling your hand from his spine as you nudged his arm as a playful smirk was shared between your glances at the other. Not mentioning it to you, but he tried not to focus that the spot felt cold to Jon as you pulled away. Wrapping your shall around in the coolness just short of the rain Jon stood by, you leaned more against his side easy. “I'd wish you good luck, but it seems you are far better at having that with negotiations then I ever am.”

“You could be good at it, if you weren't so stubborn.” 

Jon smirked to himself as your own face twisted in a playful offence. “Is this your first time meeting any one from my family?” He chuckled more freely next to you, only your voice lowered a bit as you leaned more to look at him. “Is everything alright, home I mean?” 

Nodding, he looked out to the rainy island around and couldn't stop the feeling of how much he missed the cold and snow instead. If he knew how much longer he had to be here, Jon would have been counting down the days already. “It is, everyone's keeping the peace.” 

He needed to go, but as you both stood there for a moment the pair of you let the comforting, warm quiet between you sit. Never time to yourselves, never allowed any time to yourselves it felt. 

Small moments were all you had, Jon and Robb both it was starting to feel. 

Too many had been gathered in the hall, for what was suspected a crowd was the worst thing to be in the corridor. Your own shorter figure was braced against the door frame, hands perched on it’s edge as you watched the careful movements of Maester Cressen. Beside him was your father and the silent, solemn look between them made you feel even worse. 

None had ever seen you quite so openly distressed as when you burst through the door in terror saying something was wrong with Shireen. Your mother now stood on the other side of the door frame in a stilled silence contrasting how your muscles almost shook as you watched. 

Cressen was quiet, only for family but it was your mother’s shaking gasp wavering into a need to cry that told the rest everything they needed to know. “It is as she feared, my lord.” The second you had looked at him and said her skin looked cracked and grey he and your father had moved swiftly. Your father ordering his squire to fetch Selyse and bring her to Shireen’s room as he pulled you with them to see for themselves what you had seen. 

Whispers rippled around behind you and your mother in horror and concern. “We have to deal with this now,” one said. Another whispering, “Who knows which one of us already has it next.” A third in the back almost angrily, “She needs to be dealt with before we’re all shipped off with the stone men.” 

Maester Cressen at least, held a bit more peace in his tone as he spoke to only the family. “There are methods to keep it at bay to varying degree of usefulness. Most accounts differ to what helps, but to take the safest course I would recommend none but me have contact with Shireen for the time being.” 

Your father looked at you, “It was the doll you mentioned was suspect, correct?” 

Nodding, you looked at it now laying on a small table on a cloth to be wrapped up and burned away outside. “It’s the only new thing she has, and Septa Moelle wasn’t paying attention, Shireen was napping with the doll pressed to her face.” You could hear her protest behind you, but your head whipped around as the red in your eyes stung enough to raise your voice. “I always pay attention to her when I'm with her, you weren’t even on the same side of the room when I came in.”

You knew the older woman was not happy with your more insolent attitude in the past few years, her eyes narrowing in a lecture already. “Well I could hardly stop the disease from being on the doll could I have? What else would you have me do, child?” 

“Watch her-” 

You had started to yell, only to have your father call your own name sternly. Your body flipping around to face him again, but there was no lecture in his eyes. A rigid posture that begged to fall apart and a strain in his voice and eyes as he glanced to the others. “Leave us.” 

All but the family and Maester Cressen remained, as Stannis beckoned Selyse to step inside more before closing the door. Your arms had crossed over your chest, trying to contain the growing ache inside of it as you kept looking over at little Shireen oblivious to the world threatening to take her away from you all. Your father’s voice was quiet, and less angry then you presumed. “I understand how upset you feel, but I cannot have blame thrown around like that. This isn’t anyone’s fault. Including yours.” 

Your eyes flew down, looking anywhere but his and you despised how easily he had seen past your anger. Your mother was quiet toned off to the side, “She is young and it has only just appeared there must be something we can do.” 

Maester Cressen however, gave little hope. “Some believe cutting off the effected area upon formation will stop the spread, but that is out of the question in our case. I have a number of mixtures I can apply, and vinegar is also spoken heavily of something that prevents it’s spread to others. But other then that, there is little we can do.” 

You shook your head fervently, “No there has to be an answer somewhere.” He tried to explain otherwise but your voice raise only shook as tears begun to form behind your eyes. “We could write to the citadel, some book there must have an answer we don’t.”

Perhaps if this was a more affectionate family, Selyse would have been more willing to pull you back into an embrace with her at your desperation, but you all stood there feet apart as alone feeling as one another. “There is no harm in requesting aid, or even inquiring if they would be willing to look on our behalf.” 

Your father was braced with a hand on the high frame of the bed, eyes trained down on Shireen who blissfully was looking up at him with a smile hoping to pull one from her father back. His voice quiet as he never looked away or moved an inch from her. “Do everything available to you to treat her, and when you run out of options? Find more.” 

You slowly stepped around everyone, coming to the other side of Shireen’s bed. You only just got her, you had finally seen The Mother grant your years of prayers and let a sibling be born. You couldn’t let her just take that away so soon. You finally had a sister, you couldn’t let her slip away right before your own eyes. “Did you hear that sweet girl? Father will make sure we get you better, yeah?” 

Shireen was none the wiser, only reaching out with a tiny hand wanting you to return to her with a cuddle, and it only made the tears fall freely down your face. Would you ever be able to hold her again before the greyscale took too much of her? Would she think you hate her now? 

If the adults had spoken around you, you didn’t notice. Only silently crying as you looked at the confusion of your new baby sister not understanding why you wouldn’t come to her. Your father’s voice was full of a pain as it was a rough determination. “Maester, none but you and I will be allowed access near Shireen for now. Selyse,” Your father motioned towards you with a nod. “Have her septa prepare a room temporarily in another corridor.” You turned to look at him, and for once, he did not scold you for so freely protesting him over something. “This is not a debate. I almost lost you to a fever a thousand miles away, only four years ago. I will not chance this disease taking both of you now.” 

What you hadn’t realized at that time, was just how little you were about to be allowed to see Shireen in any way for well over a month. And even less so after only a fortnight from now when maesters, healers, and any other kind of potential for a cure came pouting into Dragonstone and left you feeling lost as to what to do all alone.

Other then who had been called upon to help cure her, the island was closed off from any and all people. And no ravens were to be sent or received during that time, not wanting to risk any chance of one of such birds or letters carry a hint of greyscale off the island. 

You had a painful feeling you knew where your mother currently was. The halls more empty in the middle of the day as windows all opened around let the breeze flow around fresh. Your room once more, had not been touched it seemed. 

Looking to the box still sat alone on a cabinet top, you ran your hands delicately over the surface. Deep blue with orange foxed adorning the sides while the inside you knew was a mixture of browns, and black and gold all forming that of antlers. You had done it yourself the first time, painted it to represent both your birth houses. 

You could see what was sitting inside without opening again to check, and you knew that it was the last thing you had to do. You had one last part of Shireen, but you knew another needed these. A loss she couldn’t blame her own fanatical intents for. Being back on Dragonstone was nothing but miserable and yet you felt something compelling you to give one last kindness of yourself away. 

By the time you had made your way down the corridor, you could see her door was open partially. The wind blowing her curtains against her bed with rushing water splashed behind and birds calling to the songs Shireen loved to sing when she was spending time in her room. Selyse was sat against one side of her bed, a paper in her hands, one of Shireens unsent letters to you no doubt, that her eyes refused to tear away from even as you stepped inside. 

Neither spoke a word while you gently sat beside her. The box closed and sat gently in your lap, fingers running along the sides as you looked around the room. Not much had changed since your last visit with her. Books more advanced sat scattered about, ones dragonglass and volcanoes choking your insides to the memory of her saying she would be a scholar on it by the time you came back. A want to impress her big sister by showing she researched the mines that you were carving into now. 

You never got to spend time with her as you both wished. Once she had been cured for coming to a month was when you and your father left for Kings Landing. King Robert had come to the island, beckoning his brother to serve as Master of Ships properly from the capitol instead of here, and your father had agreed and taken you with him. From then, only in letters and visits short and rare did Shireen still have a sister. 

Voice so quiet as she spoke, it was low with a distant sorrow sat heavy in it’s sound. “I was beside myself when we had gotten the raven about your illness. Realizing that we could have lost you so far away from where we could help you was terrifying.” The letter in her hands drifted down, folding back into the position she unfurled it from initially. Neither of you looked at the other. “I’m not sure I ever felt more scared however, then learning Shireen had caught greyscale in her own home, in her own bed. I was horrified.” Her voice even in such low quiet, still cracked in pain. “I almost lost both of my girls and there was nothing I could do to change it.” 

Far away on your own, you could see you and her here. You sitting where Shireen had been, and your mother where you sat, and the crestfallen expression as a reality hit her she did not understand. “I always promised to take her North one day, bring her with me to meet the Starks and she was always upset knowing you would never let her.” Swallowing heavy before pushing strongly forth. “She didn’t understand how terrifying it was. Almost losing her, having to stand and listen to father’s men all tell him to send her away before it was too late. Or how much you and father smiled when she got better.” 

Before however she had a chance to respond, you spoke a bit more firmly. “I used to think you blamed me for my brothers.” Her neck whipped over to you, but you only swallowed more with a clearing throat but the waver did not go away. “You stopped spending time with me after your first, and father sent me away after the second. I thought boys were supposed to come before girls and I had cursed you to lose the rest beacuse I was somehow killing them just by way of being around you.” 

You didn’t realize quite yet, that her brows narrowed as her eyes shined with a mist as you looked down to the box. “Everytime I would write their names on paper, spell out the prayers I had always heard Septon Barre bless the other children with under the Seven, and burn it into ash. I’d hold them with my own blood and let them wash into the sea. Everytime I prayed to The Mother begging her to forgive you, to forgive them and let them pass into the heavens and be together. They were my blood and my fault so I needed to pass them on.” 

Selyse stayed silent. “I made a toy for each. Wanting to give them something hand crafted and so everytime I put the new one in here when they were gone.” Your fingers now trailing over the top. “Hid it away so that no one could take them from us, even after the Mother took them from you. But they weren’t my sons, they were yours.” 

Turning to look at her, neither of you hid the pain. You gently handed her the box, her gaze looking it over before carefully pulling the top off. Your heart weighed far too much in your chest as you looked down at them all. Taking her time to gaze over each one did she realize you had gone back to carve a name into all four of them. Her voice a disbelieving whisper. “Petyr, Edric..” 

“I did the same the first night back here with Ned.” Her eyes once more looking to you, but you looked at no one but the memory of deep blue eyes and an astounded laugh of joy. “I will always have part of him with me, every time I look in a mirror I will see him against me for good, but you don’t have anything of them. And as far into the future as I can imagine the second I leave this place I have no plans on coming back. They deserve to be in the hands of a mother they never knew. A child doesn’t deserve to have never truly met their mother.” 

This time, you weren’t sure who you were even referring to anymore. Your life or your dreams.

The quiet was palpable as she looked at them, for a good while enough that you tempted standing to make your leave when she spoke. “I didn’t know my grandson had a name. Or that you had named all of my own sons..” Strangely, a small laugh left her lips. “You already were a better mother with your own brothers then I was to my own daughter. I can’t take back the years we didn’t speak, or the war we were on opposite sides of but I can start atoning for it now.” 

Placing the lid back on, she put it to the side before turning to look at you more directly. The memory of waking up in Winterfell with Catelyn Stark so gently running a hand through your hair trying to ease you into things without being scared or confused hit you. But as so many years later the act was done by your true mother, you had muttered a quiet “Aren't we a a fucking pair?” 

Eyes widening, your name in a scold came flying out of her lips in disbelief before taking a beat to pass and then laughing. Something you don’t know the last time you saw Selyse do. Her hand now mindlessly smoothing out messy strands at the side of your hair, “I suppose one Queen to another I can’t quite scold you for language any longer.” 

You thought of your Uncle Axell, her own brother and what Maester Pylos had said but in truth you wondered what the point of bringing it up to her was. Her belief was stronger then your fathers even now, and had already witnessed how tight the red woman’s tendrils had been wrapped around her mind to think nothing of monstrosities. It didn’t make any of it right, but Selyse wasn’t a monster. 

Just a woman who spent much of her life ill, and too many years as a mother losing her children over and over again. You only had lost one, and you knew the things you in that year with the Boltons had twisted you into believing, things that to this day Jon was still finding spots it was tangled deeply in your darker psyche. 

Selyse and you were different for those things, but Stannis also told you of how he and your mother seemed to only let those beliefs get worse after they thought you were dead, and you knew that was no coincidence. Having no grasp of letting the red witch burn her brother alive after losing her eldest daughter and grandson in one slaughter. You still if you thought hard enough, could feel how much your hand stung in the pressure as you sunk a knife so deep into Myranda’s tongue and mouth that you hadn’t noticed until the next morning you had her blood splattered across your face and even then you almost cared not to wipe it from you. 

Or how if Theon let you walk into that room, you would have wasted no time carving a number of sickeningly horrific things into Roose Bolton for every wound you and Robb had been killed with. A chilling memory of how if you were lucky you would have done worse to Ramsay that night. Horror in grief made the mind desperate to find answers in the blood that traumatized you in the first place, and you found it harder and harder to look at your mother and hate her for any of it. 

Stannis was another story, it always was with your father. You and him too alike to find harmony in the ways you always saw in Lord Stark with Robb, with Jon. Those three of them cut so close of the same cloth but not for a moment did they clash. 

In many ways Stannis was similar to Ned Stark, and it was why you suspected he and Jon seemed to find ease in working beside the other. Jon was raised with the best of values his father could pass to him, and it was those which Stannis respected more then anything. But the aspects of you and your father which were similar blended as well as drinking wildfire with a dash of honey to soothe it down. 

The honey works for the bitter taste on your tongue, but the wildfire will still twist your insides and expose that it never really would go well in the first place. You were finding it easier to stand in the same room as your father, but there were things you couldn’t quite get passed but now perhaps it would be easier if you both understood that.

On the opposite end, Catelyn would hate you for finding love in Jon after losing Robb and, and Robb’s unborn son. But you knew it was none of those things which ever caused the divide between you and Selyse. A difference in core beliefs and what was right and wrong were the stops and the sights of fire as a terrifying horror versus the inevitable godly truth. 

She was trying, and she didn’t hate you for having such different choices and beliefs then her. The woman who raised you half of your life would hate you for simply loving the bastard son of her husband. Look down on you for finding a life after being ripped from Robb in the brother he loved more then anyone, and solely would do so beacuse she couldn’t see him as anything but a memory of infidelity. 

The voice next to him was easier to talk to then it was days before, much easier he found. Jon stood over the outside lands, the rain having cleared up enough that they could stand outside and stay dry. From here, Jon could watch the sights of his men, as next to him Aegon watched Jon with an uncertainty flickering between things. Both men had put forth that the two of them talk things out more civilly, and at the least so far he found once no other eyes and men were there to watch, the dragon found a bit more personality in his words. 

“You make brooding over my failure here quite difficult, do you know that? You look far better brooding then I do.” As if unintentionally proving his point, Jon barley could muster half a smirk before it dropped once more. Brows narrowed watching his people, his only thoughts were how little chance any stood once the storms finally came and how so far he convinced all but none of the dangers. Aegon beside him filling the silence, “I’m the prisoner, I should be the miserable one.” 

Jon’s tone was flat but not unsympathetic to the thought. “You’re not my prisoner. We're both keeping our men out here in peace, and you can take them and leave whenever you want. I didn’t come here for you or your army, I needed one thing before the dead come.”

Aegon was having difficulty with the ideas. He wanted to sigh clearly, but Jon could see his gaze finding the side of his once more with a question. “You’ve been King longer then myself, how about you figure out what to do for my plans of taking Kings Landing, and I figure out what to do about your walking ice monsters.” 

There was something close to partially amused in Jon’s chest but it didn’t make it to the surface at all to see. Partially distracted by the thought of how he was beginning to miss the cold. It was windy on Dragonstone but humid and heavy in air the moment you left the close cliff sides to the waters. A once memory of looking to a summer in Highgarden and now that felt foolish, Jon wasn’t sure anymore he would be comfortable in any place that didn’t leave him a little bit on the edge of freezing. 

“It’s hard for me to fathom, you understand.” 

Not hesitating, Jon was confident as he spoke. “I do. But I also know that I sent two hundred men to the wall from an enemy I defeated, and that still won’t be nearly enough. We made pleads to the crown multiple times for help, but it was only King Stannis who came. He was the only one who believed us, and I’m starting to think I was lucky to get even him on our side.” 

Aegon stood silently for a good minute. Arms crossed over his chest as he considered the difference between them. He had been trained for this his entire life, he knew how to look like a King, hold himself like a King, and how to rally men and speak as a King. But it was in the quiet, rasping, deep tones of Jon Snow, that had Aegon realizing none his own training meant anything compared to a leader who had one cause he truly believed in. “He seems like an unpleasant man, but not one easily swayed by those around him. Says something he came to your aid, even if it was just beacuse of his daughter.” 

The silence between them was strange to Aegon as it was choking to Jon. What horrors had the Boltons forced onto you by the time Jon had finally met your father? How much had you thought everyone in the realm had given up on you when in truth both men were closer to you then ever without knowing? 

Then he thought of Mance. He rarely did anymore, his time with the King Beyond the Wall not long nor was it anywhere near pleasant. He respected him in many ways, but when trying to find the truth of what he really gained from knowing him boiled down to one thing. 

“You're a good lad. Truly you are. But if you can't understand why l won't enlist my people in a foreigner's war, there's no point explaining.”

If Jon could, he’d apologize to Mance for learning that lesson only after the man himself was dead. 

“She had nothing to do with it.” Glancing to Aegon with a clenched jaw, “Stannis coming to our aid, he did it on his own choice. She had nothing to do with that. She- we both thought she was dead.” He didn’t know what others heard about you or him, but it sounded less and less appealing to him by day having people know about both of your deaths, and both of you coming back from it. 

Beside him he could feel a tension. There wasn’t much he could do about that either, Jon had no interest in placating rivalries of almost thirty years passed. If Aegon was going to join him, then your presence would simply be something he would have to learn to deal with. His voice was controlled too, as if not to show Jon how agitated he felt. “It’s a tall tale you are asking men to believe. I don’t even know if I do yet.” 

Jons voice was nearing a quite irritated edge. “How do I convince people who don't know me, that an enemy they don't believe in, is coming to kill them all?” 

Aegon chuckled, and Jon didn’t appreciate it. He was included in that frustrations as far as Jon was concerned. Nodding amusingly, “Good question.” 

Jon’s response was short, and with a stilted anger that he had to reign in. “I know it’s a good question. I’m looking for an answer.” That feeling only compounded with the wonder, was it him that was the problem convincing people or their blindness to the truth? Would this be easier were it Robb standing here instead of him, Jon wondered. Robb was the better talker, after all. 

“What do I get out of helping you? I came here for the Iron Throne, not to fight ice monsters in the North beside a King who won’t even bend the knee. I help you and what would I get in return?” 

This time, Jon’s eyes did meet his. The grey painted dark enough it flashed with an angry frustration as he lost more of his patience with him. “That’s the problem. I’m not fighting this war to get anything out of it but to help keep my people alive. But the more of you who fight against me, or demand you only will help if you get something out of me? I don’t have time to stand here and teach you why you’re the one missing the point.” Jon stood a bit closer to him with not an ounce of patience left for this. “You’re fighting for some chair, I’m fighting to save my people. If you can’t understand why that’s more important then the Iron Throne, then there’s nothing left for us to talk about.” 

Aegon wasn’t nearly as confident, but he at the least, wasn’t hostile. “I suppose there isn’t.” 

The sight out in the training yard by the cliff side was an interesting one. Approaching the holdings for swords, lances, arrows and a variety of other weaponry you came to stand beside Ser Davos who was watching in amusement. Leaning your palms against the wooden holding you found a small smirk. “Is this how we hold meetings these days? Beating each other with swords?” 

The man chuckled, glancing to you with a playful twist on his own face. “I don’t know if I would call what they’re doing beating each other, your grace.” Looking over, you had to bite your tongue at just how correct he was. It seemed a few of the men had found use in challenging and failing to best Jon in a duel. 

“How long have they been at this exactly?” There were laughs shared amongst the Northerners watching around with the men of the Golden Company as if none were at odds just days ago, the ones on the main area were a few you did not recognize, at the side of an increasingly exhausted and frustrated looking Aegon against a confident but focused Jon. 

One lunged and was almost instantly overpowered with a few quick movements from him that they seemed not to even see coming, to which the Northerners around had a chuckle at as well as a smirk trying not to form on Jon’s own face. Ser Davos beside you letting it sit on his. “I think he’s been knocking most of them into the ground for about an hour now. I will give it to Aegon, he hasn’t given up yet.” There was certainly enough grime on the man to prove it had been a while. “Even if it would be in his best interest.” 

Leaning forward more, you let your forearms brace over with hands clasping gently together as you watched freely. The two kings now opposite, Aegon’s blue hair tied up and back as strands continued to fall in his face, whereas Jon’s curls sat loose and far less damp then his counterparts in sweat. His voice lighter then it had been in just as long, not a trace of burden and frustration pushing him down more then he deserved. “You’re paying too much attention guessing what I’m going to do next. By the time you figure it out, I’ll already have hit you when you weren’t looking.” 

Sighing out, Aegon squared his shoulders and readjusted his grip on the practice sword. “Focusing too much now, of course.” Both men looked at the other, as a second pair of men also stood by each side of the dragon. 

It didn’t last long. Biting your tongue hard you found yourself finding an appreciation you never truly had before. Jon fought with ease, as if his sword was simply part of his arm moving around them and the second one got too close, there was a teeth gritting strength behind his hits to move them off or incapacitate them. A harsh slam to Aegon’s face knocked him right back and easily had Jon all but slam down the sword from his grasp in the result. 

Thankfully, Jon didn’t look your way just yet. A tightening in your chest that heated your blood rushing along to every corner of your veins had you biting your tongue harder to keep such a stoic expression, you knew what he was like too much now. In a fight and more and such skill and strength swooped into your heart and made it race. Inhaling deep through your nose you felt it slow back to normal just enough to simmer the look from finding your eyes.

The gathering parting ways a bit more, Jon gathered what was scattered about as Aegon spat out what bit of blood Jon had hit up into him. Your eyebrows lifted a tinge without changing much else, voice flatter then he appreciated as you looked his way. “Well fought.” 

Glaring at you with a hissed, “Piss off.” You looked to Davos as a smirk did indeed fail to get covered up on you, your eyes much softer now glancing back to Jon. You truly hadn’t seem him at any ease in what felt like such a long time. Even for just now, it warmed you to see just a hint of it. 

Jon found a voice which sounded much like the days in the Winterfell training yards as he and Robb would still be much more inclined to knock you into the dirt yourself to teach you. “Fighting comes easier to some then others. You train everyday you’ll get better, but you can’t assume it’ll be enough to make you the best man in the field. Eventually even the best get bested.” 

Turning back with a twist on his face, Aegon argued “So you’re saying if you weren’t the best out there the other night, it wouldn’t have been humiliating for you?” Jon’s easy answer only of no almost made you laugh. If there was one thing he had none of, it was an ego. “Well it is for me. The rest of the Seven Kingdoms hear I lost my first proper fight to a girl and they’ll all laugh me back out of the country for being a coward.” 

It slipped out honestly, your eyebrow raised at him with a quick comment of “You’re too stupid to be a coward.” Jon and Davos both grinned at the ease of how you said it. Connington having watched silently from afar moved forward to grab Aegon’s sword with a yank, a silent comment on his lips likely telling him to cool off. 

Was he purposely circling around you like you were a prey being stalked? 

The evening sun setting in the sky still begging to rain again, but Jon had not let left the training yard, now only the two of you remained. One practice sword in each of your respective holds and yet he had not the courtesy to let you change from the dress you were in. A hard to hold back smirk of amusement on your face as you twisted and turned to keep your eyes on him. 

“What happened to not wanting me near a sword any longer?” 

A dark mischief sat in Jon’s eyes as he stood tall before you, a lightness still on his voice kept from earlier. “We both know you’re not going to stick to that.” A smirk on his lips was less cheeky and more of a soft fondness that bled into affection of the grey. “I know we haven't done this in years together, I’ll go easy on you.” 

Once upon a time you wouldn’t have believed him on that, but now there was not the confident aggression in his stance he was holding himself with hours before. “As if that ever lasts long.” 

Flashing almost black in his eyes for a moment did Jon almost stop in his tracks, you were purposely trying to rile him up. Throw him off track and he seemed to have caught onto it faster then he would have years ago. He was quick though, enough that you barley had a chance to turn around, but just as the two practice swords were to clash he had the strength to hold it merely an inch from colliding. “Besides, I miss just being able to spend time alone with my best friend.” 

The brightness in his eyes soaked through your skin and absorbed into your very heart, your hold on the sword in your left hand almost shook enough he could knock it out. Instead he did something unexpected, using a free hand of his own and running it gently along the loose hair at the back of your head as he leaned in, hovering over your lips. But your gentleness spoke before he could close that gap.

“I could name a fair few people who might object to me having that title anymore.” But just as his free hand raked down your hair you realized what he was trying to do. Almost with a ducking spin you nearly avoided being yanked back into him with his sword at your neck, taking a few steps back with a grinning audacity at his own smirk. 

Jon had gotten much better since you both last did this. In Winterfell during your last visit when Lord Arryn was still alive, Jon and Robb had teamed up on you alone taking easy turns all but tossing you around. Robb was overwhelming and fierce in direct attacks that had you only able to defend and never gain the upper hand, only to have you turned around and disoriented by Jon’s swift grace and using his unfair strength to shove you back into Robb. 

Even now you could hear Bran, Arya, and Rickon all watching and yelling as it onlookers of a tournament and arguing who was going to win. Ned Stark had approached the scene behind all of your views and watched his sons who were clearly toying with you. Not that he had said it, nor did you know, but he had commented to Ser Rodrick that it was impressive you had kept up as long as you had. 

Knowing his boys had done this since they were old enough to hold a sword. Robb and Jon would wake up early, and in the warm days of summer they wouldn’t even come to break their fast, just running out into the training yard and fighting until Ser Rodrick could finally come out and properly teach them. A many of those mornings they would choose heroes of old to be, yelling at the top of their lungs what great warriors they admired which they pretended to fight as. Some mornings as he walked the halls of Winterfell he would sigh deeply, shaking his head at how of all times his son chose to be the loud one it was the sounds of Jon yelling at the top of his lungs far too early in the morning, that he was The Young Dragon. 

But you hadn’t ever held something sharper then a dinner knife before coming to Winterfell. You on the second visit had begun learning to shoot a bow, and picked that up with ease. You were quiet and focused most of the time anyways. But never anything more. 

You hadn’t sparred with any that wasn’t a life or death slashing of genuine battle since he and Robb as they toyed with you, the small doe at the mercy of two true wolves looking at you like a meal. 

In truth, you supposed that turned out to be far more true then you ever imagined. 

Smiling and huffing a laugh was so freely falling from your lips, Jon was trying to challenge you but every upper hand he gained it was never aggressive. Just enough to push you back onto the right track as you both moved around the other, an ease almost with a laugh in his tone. “I know you’re quicker then that.” 

Inhaling deeply, you tried to focus more. Watch his actual movements and not what everything else was saying he was about to strike with. So far, you hadn’t had once instance to put him at the disadvantage. Knowing he could see you were trying to focus, almost coming to get close to a hit on him twice, both times he seemed to get you turned around. Certainly he was indeed the one who taught you how to fight with smoothness and not strength. Only he had both which was the problem. 

Glancing up at his curious gaze, you tilted your head down to your attire. “You wear the dress next time and tell me it’s easy to be quick.” 

Only, he too had a quick trick up his sleeve that wasn’t part of the rules. Finding your stride for only a few moments before Jon came close, and instead of making a hit, chose rather to grab at the flowing skirt of your dress. Yanking you right up into his chest as the chilling cold of the metal on the sword begun to drift flat along the insides of your calf and thighs, taking the edges right up along with it just enough to have you fluster in an instant. 

Jon’s voice only a husking deepness as his eyes drifted down for a second to your lips and further along what he could see. “I’d rather rip yours right off you.”

The dullness of a practice sword posing nothing to feel shaking nerves about, instead finding it in how strongly you felt a flush in your veins grow hot and begging as you failed to find the right way to turn the situation on it’s head. Instead one hand had pressed up against the leathers on his chest as the other tried to keep a firm grip of your own sword. “Here, where anyone could see? A bold move, my King.” 

Oh did his eyes grow a full tint darker. Much more freely looking down at what he could see of your figure with a raw lust before leaning close again, his breath hot across your skin a he spoke deep in your ear. The hand which had your dress bunched in his fist let loose, sliding around now to your back and pulling you closer. Knowing you had not the right grip of your own weapon to over power him before he could you. “What about you? You going to let everyone see? No protest to someone walking by, watching me take you right here?”

The cool touch of the practice sword almost tracing along your inner thighs as if it were a teasing touch, his mouth drifting shamelessly to bite your neck. The hand flat on his chest begging to drift up to run through his hair but he had you pressed too close to his front to move. Your other hand very slowly shifting how you held your weapon as you spoke through strained, biting back moan. “Maybe I just know better then to fight back.” A hum in his throat as he soothed over the sting from his teeth with a gentle press of his lips. “Men are vile, dangerous things. A girl such as myself knows better then to fight back when she’s at the mercy of a man like you.” 

His arm around your back pulled you closer, his other hand losing any purpose in it’s trace along your skin. Giving another growling bite to a lower spot on your neck, pulling a high gasp that almost was too loud in need. His rasp muffled against you, “And what kind of man am I?” 

A few answers rung out, but just as you spoke gently leaning more into his curls to mutter it, his grip tightened. “A brute who lets his guard down.” Twisting right out of his grasp Jon pushed back against your counter with a bit more aggression before he overwhelmed you enough he could snatch your sword right from your hand. 

Tossing it to the side with a clang, he then snatched you and flipped to pull your back into his chest. An arm wrapped around your front keeping your own under his, and the other gently letting his practice sword rest at your neck. This time his rasp was deep and rumbling in your ear, his arm pulling you back more as you almost let out a tiny gasp, feeling him press his hardening, covered cock into your ass. A shiver flew down your spine. “Maybe this brute should drag you back to his cabin. All alone in the woods. Strip you bare, mount you on top of my bed and claim you over and over until you’re crying anytime I try to stop.” Your breathing picked up drastically as he rumbled in your ear. “Is that the kind of man you think I am?”

His free hand sat flat across your stomach, pushing your hips back into his covered cock more as he stepped forward into the plushness of your ass. You partially tried to turn to look back at him, “Sounds more wolf then man if you ask me.” 

His head dropped again, moving the sword down to drop before tightly holding your hip, his teeth and lips finding more home in your neck. His strength alone was powerful enough to keep you in place. “That would make you my mate, you know.” His grip tightening as you shivered against him. “And a wolf has a duty to fill his mate with a nice, litter of pups.” 

Jon once more felt that sensation as if the two of you were being watched, but you shook more in his touch and a whine sat so close to leaving your throat he tossed the feeling away for now. You close to forgetting that you were out where any could see, leaned back heavily into his touch grasping at what you could of his forearm. Jon suspected you didn’t even quite realize how desperate you sounded or what you were even asking for. “Jon, please...” 

Unable to stop the thoughts, all Jon could do was growl in his head, oh he will. He’ll fill you deep with his seed as many times as you could take it, and Jon was slowly uncovering just how much of his seed, how much of that intensity you could take.

You discovering how much you felt like your life held true purpose when Jon would kiss you, touch you, and take you again and again. Making it to the room you both were staying in was going to be a true test of will power at this rate. 

Forgetting the rumours haunting you, for as long as Jon was as bare as you were? Hips grinding roughly against yours, his thick cock thrusting deep inside you, as his hands gently interlocked his fingers with yours, pressing them with a need into the sheets at the side of your head? Well, it seemed like nothing else existed in problems or mind but you and him.

Some nights, it felt as if truly all you and Jon had in this world anymore, was each other. 

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine #game of thrones imagine

[jackoshadows]

@blankwhiteshield I thought I would respond in a separate post since I don't want to derail from @fromtheseventhhell's OG post about something else. You responded to my comment here by saying that I was 'entirely wrong' and linking to an essay on Jaime Lannister and I did try to read through all that to get a gist of your explanation.

First I want to mention that Rhaegar being a pre-asoiaf/background/tertiary character means we don't know a lot about him. I can only speculate as to his thoughts and motives and why he did what he did.

I wrote that comment because the absolute hypocrisy of Jaime Lannister apologists/Braime shippers critiquing Rhaegar grinds my gears something fierce. And I am not even a Rhaegar fan - he's a character that there's to set other characters on their journey and to set the story.

The consequences of Jaime's incestual adultery was the spark that lead to the WOT5K that two years on is still ongoing with no stability in war torn Westeros. Jaime Lannister attempts to murder a little child because he can't keep it in his pants for the short duration they are visiting the Starks. Jaime was hunting down a 9 year old to cut off her hand. That poll about Rhaegar being a bad father when Jaime refers to Joffrey as semen in Cersei's cunt is a farce.

Hence my comment.

Now, let's start with Jaime being Aerys' hostage. Yes, Aerys used Jaime against Tywin. However, why was Jaime in the Kingsguard (KG) in the first place? He was Tywin's golden child and heir to Casterly Rock, unlike Cersei and Tyrion having no value for Tywin because she is a girl and he is disabled.

Aerys had no power over Jaime until he chose to join the KG to serve the Mad King. Jaime had more choice than the 14 year old bastard Jon Snow who had to leave Winterfell and the NW is pretty much the only option available to him. He had more choice than his sister Cersei. He had more choice than disabled Tyrion getting physically/sexually abused by his own family.

So why did Jaime decide to join the KG? So that he could be close to Cersei and sleep with her. Jaime joins the KG knowing that he was going to break the KG oaths of celibacy. He didn't care about oaths when joining the KG , right?

This is why Jaime's entire spiel about oaths never had any emotional weight for me, coming from a character who had no value for oaths in the first place and who had no intention of upholding his sworn oaths when he joined the KG.

I can understand a character like Jon Snow's angst and conflict when he is forced to sleep with Ygritte or when he has to choose between the NW and saving his sister, because oaths are important to Jon Snow. Oaths and honor is important to someone like Ned Stark. Jaime? Considering his total disrespect for the KG oaths when he joins them to simply be close to Cersei, I don't get it.

Next, Rhaegar's conversation with Jaime.

Why do you assume here that Jaime was scared of Aerys and asking Rhaegar to save/rescue him from Aerys? I mean, Jaime was KG. At 13 he won his first melee. At 15 he was defeating other skilled swordsmen.

It could just as well be Jaime eager to fight with Rhaegar in battle and asking that Rhaegar leave behind the older KG like Darry to instead guard the king because the battle is where the fight is. Jaime thinks that guarding someone is not as exciting as fighting in battle. It's even right there in the next sentence when Jaime gets angry about being referred to as a crutch and he's like ' I AM A KINGSGUARD'.

We see something similar when Jon begs his uncle to take him for ranging.

Three days after their arrival, Jon had heard that Benjen Stark was to lead a half-dozen men on a ranging into the haunted forest. That night he sought out his uncle in the great timbered common hall and pleaded to go with him. Benjen refused him curtly. - Jon, AGoT

There's also not much Rhaegar can probably do at that point (speculating here) - facing war/battle - about his volatile, angry father, the King. There are all these essays about the effect that Tywin had on Jaime... imagine the burden of being the Mad King's son. What power does Rhaegar have to take away the King's choice of KG? Rhaegar didn't even have the power to send his own wife and children elsewhere. Him actively interfering was only going to further anger a king who was already paranoid about the crown prince. Hence the 'I dare not take away that crutch from him at such a hour'.

I think you also mention that Jaime was terrified of being executed as an hostage - is this mentioned anywhere in the books or are you just assuming/speculating on his thought process here?

Jon Snow is elected Lord Commander of the Night's Watch at 16. In Westeros 16 is considered a man grown and Jaime is an adult by Westerosi standards and Rhaegar certainly didn't see him as some kind of child hostage like that post deliberately twisted it into.

A boy in Westeros is considered to be a "man grown" at sixteen years. The same is true for girls. Sixteen is the age of legal majority, as twenty-one is for us.

At any rate, Rhaegar and Jaime's fellow KG expected the KG left behind in KL - Jaime Lannister - to do his job and protect the crown prince's wife and babies as per sworn oaths.

In which Jaime fails because while his father's men, including the Mountain, were scaling the walls to rape and murder Elia and her babies, Jaime was lounging on the throne waiting for one of the rebels to get there. And hence his guilt when confronted by ghosts of his past in his weirwood dreams.

You have written a lot on how Jaime could not have known about what Tywin's men would do. I mean, why is he waiting around to find out what they would do?! Sorry, these are piss poor excuses and even Jaime Lannister himself doesn't really believe this because he knows that he should have immediately gone to their side after the King was dead as his ghosts tell him.

Jaime knows his father. He knows what Tywin is capable of. He was there for what Tywin did to Tysha. KL was even then being raped and pillaged. And he thought nothing would happen to the Targaryen princess and her children?

The Mad King was dead - literally backstabbed by the hostage. What should this skilled Kingsguard do next? Immediately go to Elia and the babies to protect Rhaegar's family as Rhaegar entrusted him to do or sit on the Throne waiting for someone to come there? We know what Jaime chose to do:

'Then he climbed the Iron Throne and seated himself with his sword across his knees to see who would come to claim the kingdom. As it happened, it had been Eddard Stark'.

This is what is given to us in the books. Nothing more, nothing else. You can add to this of course, but that would be speculative theorizing on what Jaime's thoughts and feelings are about all this, not what is actually given to us in the books.

#Response

[esther-dot]

Cat was supposed to marry Brandon only for him to die brutally by the hands of king. Shortly after she married to Ned only for him to leave for war against the king. How much terrified she would have been especially when she became pregnant? One thing after is happening and it's like she didn't get the time to process.

Absolutely. Having an heir was important, the books press on that issue a lot, so on the one hand, it had to be a relief to potentially be having the Stark heir, but it was right in the middle of so much chaos and trauma. Cat's entire life is marked by being forced into difficult situations without ever having a choice in the matter. There's a lot of pain in this passage,

When the last of Edmure's foot had shuffled under the portcullis, Brienne asked, "What shall we do now, my lady?" "Our duty." Catelyn's face was drawn as she started across the yard. I have always done my duty, she thought. Perhaps that was why her lord father had always cherished her best of all his children. Her two older brothers had both died in infancy, so she had been son as well as daughter to Lord Hoster until Edmure was born. Then her mother had died and her father had told her that she must be the lady of Riverrun now, and she had done that too. And when Lord Hoster promised her to Brandon Stark, she had thanked him for making her such a splendid match. I gave Brandon my favor to wear, and never comforted Petyr once after he was wounded, nor bid him farewell when Father sent him off. And when Brandon was murdered and Father told me I must wed his brother, I did so gladly, though I never saw Ned's face until our wedding day. I gave my maidenhood to this solemn stranger and sent him off to his war and his king and the woman who bore him his bastard, because I always did my duty. (ACOK, Catelyn VI

And then after losing her fiance, marrying a stranger who might be on the losing side of the war --terrifying prospect--and who might die, she has his child, goes home to a place in a region that's unknown to her, only to find he's installed his bastard there before his true born son, the son she bore him,

He did more than that. The Starks were not like other men. Ned brought his bastard home with him, and called him "son" for all the north to see. When the wars were over at last, and Catelyn rode to Winterfell, Jon and his wet nurse had already taken up residence. (AGOT, Catelyn II)

Trauma, terror, trauma, terror. The things she could have thought that implied! I totally agree she didn't have the opportunity to process any of this. I don't think Ned processed his trauma either. I was really struck by Brandon's presence in their marriage all these years later. Even though they've come to love each other, Ned can't seem to move past his insecurity and guilt, he's living a life that was never meant to be his:

Brandon had been twenty when he died, strangled by order of the Mad King Aerys Targaryen only a few short days before he was to wed Catelyn Tully of Riverrun. His father had been forced to watch him die. He was the true heir, the eldest, born to rule. (AGOT, Eddard I)

She finished for him. "… crown prince, and heir to the Iron Throne. And I was only twelve when my father promised me to your brother Brandon." That brought a bitter twist to Ned's mouth. "Brandon. Yes. Brandon would know what to do. He always did. It was all meant for Brandon. You, Winterfell, everything. He was born to be a King's Hand and a father to queens. I never asked for this cup to pass to me." "Perhaps not," Catelyn said, "but Brandon is dead, and the cup has passed, and you must drink from it, like it or not." Ned turned away from her, back to the night. He stood staring out in the darkness, watching the moon and the stars perhaps, or perhaps the sentries on the wall. Catelyn softened then, to see his pain. Eddard Stark had married her in Brandon's place, as custom decreed, but the shadow of his dead brother still lay between them, as did the other, the shadow of the woman he would not name, the woman who had borne him his bastard son. (AGOT, Catelyn II)

Neither was able to fully process and move past the trauma their marriage was created by and in. That tragic context for their relationship makes what it became so much more beautiful though, and this passage, all the more touching:

And was it really such a terrible thing, to want a pretty wife? She remembered her own childish disappointment, the first time she had laid eyes on Eddard Stark. She had pictured him as a younger version of his brother Brandon, but that was wrong. Ned was shorter and plainer of face, and so somber. He spoke courteously enough, but beneath the words she sensed a coolness that was all at odds with Brandon, whose mirths had been as wild as his rages. Even when he took her maidenhood, their love had more of duty to it than of passion. We made Robb that night, though; we made a king together. And after the war, at Winterfell, I had love enough for any woman, once I found the good sweet heart beneath Ned's solemn face. (ASOS, Catelyn V)

Not merely a good heart, a sweet heart. Not merely a survivable marriage, but love.

#dot chat #catelyn stark #nedcat

[a-libra-writes]

hello friend, is it alright if i request short headcanons about childhood friends to lovers with margaery and/or sansa? I need more sansa and margaery content, their tags are dead silent 😭😭😔. I hope this is okay and hope you have a good day/night.

Sapphic friends to lovers ................ my weakness ........ okay you didnt specify if it was so I assumed, LOL. This is more childhood crushes n' friendships cause its cute, damn it.

(((also im including my favorite dornish ladies bc i can)))

🐺Sansa Stark🐺

You, Sansa and Jeyne become "the little ladies" of Winterfell, a close trio of friends who are often together. While Sansa seems to be the leader, she very much looks to you for guidance, even if you're younger. She's often hung on your opinion and thoughts, and if you did the same for her, you both would be talking in circles about what to do before Jeyne would interrupt and suggest a third thing, lest you two talk all day.

Sansa starts to admire things you fancy, even if she doesn't always understand why you like them - say for example, swords or bugs. She admires you, too, though that's obvious, and she's childishly delighted when you agree with her thoughts. When old nan tells stories about knights and princesses, in Sansa's mind, the knights always seem to have eyes like your's.

And while Sansa often daydreams about being a married Lady, just like her mother, sometimes a worry interrupts her thoughts. Won't you need to be married too? Doesn't that mean you'll have to go away? No, no, it's fine, you'll just visit and write to her. Sansa makes you promise to do so several times.

If you're of a much lesser rank than her, she's heartened by the thought of you being her handmaiden instead. Proper ladies need proper handmaidens, after all. Then you two wouldn't have to part at all! Whenever she's expressed these worries to her mother, Catlyn gently tells Sansa that it's just the way of things, and she'll find new companions and friends in her future husband's house. Sansa retorts she doesn't want new ones, she wants you.

Sansa likes to fuss about with your clothes and hair, just like her mother fusses with her's. If you aren't a girly type or appreciate touching, this can be exhausting. More than once you two have bickered because she wants to keep trying different hairstyles and you want to do something else. Jeyne or even Arya are the ones who interrupt it.

Speaking of Arya, if you're the type of little lady whose closer in personality and temperament, she's quite fond of you. Sansa can't help but feel jealous, even if she knows it's silly. And when she scolds Arya for something unladylike, and Arya retorts "but YN does it!", Sansa just huffs. "That's different!" "How is it different?" "It - it just is!"

Sansa would also pout if you play with the boys instead of her, especially if you're a little older. She very carefully walk through the mud in the sword yard or brave the high parts of Winterfell's walls where you're hanging about with Robb, Jon and Theon. She wants to remind you it isn't proper, but then you might send her away, so she just huffs and deals with it. If she's feeling clever, she'll claim she needs you for something right this minute and drag you off.

(The boys notice this behavior and think it's pretty funny. Robb knows all he has to do is tease you and Sansa will RUSH over to your defense)

Naturally, you're going with Sansa when she has to leave for King's Landing. It'll be so wonderful! She has so many fancies of being a Queen and you her handmaiden, and that means you can always stay by her side. And apart from that, there will be so many amazing things to see and do. She can hardly keep still at the thought, and spills it all you to, hoping you'll agree. Arya thinks her sister will be too preoccupied with you to care about princes or knights, but she's just fine with that. Better you than that awful prince and his dog.

🏵Margaery Tyrell🏵

She knew you were different from the start. Margaery has always had an endless stream of companions, from her cousins to the daughters of her mother's handmaidens. There was something so different about you though, and she just couldn't put her finger on it.

Being a charming little girl, it wasn't hard for Margaery to find out about you from the servants and other cousins. What you liked, where you were from, what your parents are like, and so on. Maybe if she shows an interest in these things, you'll be more inclined to play with her.

(You both being children, it really doesn't take much for you to want to play with her. Margaery forgets about using her gathered facts and just has fun).

Hanging out with her means playing with allll her cousins and companions too. Huge games of chase in the gardens, elaborate and dramatic plays, big tea parties with over-dressed dolls. The consistent thing is you're always Margaery's "pick" - you sit next to her, you play the knight if she's the princess, your doll is the sister of her doll so they can't be separated. Even in competitive games, she's more likely to team up with you than play against you. There's been more than a few girls who complained of you being the favorite, which Margaery doesn't deny.

If you're the sort of girl who prefers playing swords and being outside, Margaery adapts to that. She'll drag Loras along (he'll never turn down a mock sword fight), and sometimes he sneaks training swords out of the armory. Sometimes you're the villain who steals Margaery away, and Loras is the knight getting her back. Sometimes she demands you two switch roles 'so YN can keep me this time!'. You end up close to Loras, too.

She's used to being made much of by servants and companions alike, but no praise holds as much weight as your's, except maybe her mother's. She can become quite prideful if you're always praising her virtues and admiring her. Margaery is much the same with you, and she's always been physically affectionate. She likes holding hands, doing your hair, hugging and sharing a bed (though that's usually joined by a baby cousin or two). Highgarden is positively charmed by its little Lady Tyrell and her companion.

(Lady Olenna has notes you two are remarkably close, and that could probe useful in the future. She'd invite you two to her little private parties, often posing unusual riddles and questions to you.)

Being accomodating and considerate, Margaery is easy to get along with regardless if you're more social or more introverted. Being the former makes it easier to attend parties with her, and the latter means she'll be more understanding than most if you don't want to attend the endless feasts and social gatherings. She'll miss you, but she's delighted to be the exception - you may be sick of everyone else, but you'll let her stay (quietly) while you decompress. She'd be disappointed to be sent away, though she perks right up once you want to talk again.

Margaery figures she has some kind of crush as she gets older. Her other companions talk about boys in the same way she thinks about you. Margaery isn't opposed to boys, but she finds girls just as interesting, and you're the most interesting of all. She'd be a little hurt if you were chasing after some boy cousin of her's, or picked another girl over her. It takes her some time to formulate these thoughts and feelings. She has a gut feeling these aren't things you normally think if someone is just a friend. When she hears a wonderful love song one evening - one she's heard many times before, yet just now has it struck her - she begins to understand her feelings.

As she grows older, she underatands you can't truly be with her forever and ever. ... or could you? Important married ladies still get to have handmaidens. Would it trouble you to stay at her side? Would you rather have your own husband and family? These thoughts often bother Margaery. She goes to her grandmother with her troubles, and Lady Olenna is certainly inclined to help her favorite ...

⭐️Ashara Dayne⭐️

Though the Daynes were well-liked amongst the nobility of down, House Starfall was a quiet place. Ashara was a quiet girl, content to observe her more outgoing brother and parents visit with guests. Her parents felt a female companion might do her well, and Ashara was open to the idea. She liked playing with the many noble girls when they visited Sunspear, and there wasn't much in the way of playmates in Starfall. Most of the servant's children were too young or too old, or boys, which her father forbade.

Her big, purple eyes took you in when you arrived. She was a little distant at first, wanting to observe you first, but she was never impolite or cold. Regardless if your personality was more on her wavelength or a total opposite, she's amused by your habits and interests.

Sometimes you two will play long and imaginative games, sometimes you read something together in silence. Ashara likes it when you talk about something you're very passionate about, and you can draw similar conversation out of her. While she was never a shy child, her parents are pleased she's becoming more willing to talk to others. Sometimes she just gazes at you, and when you ask her what she's thinking of, she only shrugs. "Only you." Ashara often says odd things like that.

Being friends with Ashara means you're around Arthur a lot, in spite of the age gap. He's always kind and gracious to you, very "knightly" even. Many servants think you two will be trouble later on, but Arthur just sees you as a second sister. Many times he's thanked you for being Ashara's friend, and asks you to look after her safety.

She's not very affectionate, even with her brother, but she enjoys holding your hand and brushing your hair in the evening. During loud feasts and parties, she likes to take your arm and keep close so you don't lose each other.

Going to Sunspear is already exciting, and Ashara is the one introducing you to all the Martell cousins and other children, both highborn and lowborn. The both of you quickly make a trio with Princess Elia. You're either of similar temperment to the steady girls, or you're encouraging them to run about and play more. The three of you like to go off to your own games and little world, and this bond only strengthens each time you visit.

It might be Elia who helps Ashara put words to her feelings, once she's older and seriously thinking of them. Arthur has his two cents as well; gently warning his sister that you may not be with her forever. She hates to think of that, though she knows it's true. She's content to keep these feelings to herself. It would almost be worse if you felt the same, because then you'd both have to deal with the separation. Ashara hopes you don't think ill of her for wanting to stay quiet.

Reprieve comes in the form of the newly married Elia. As the future queen, she's expected to have handmaidens, and of course she'll want her childhood friends to accompany her. Her brothers Doran and Oberyn make it clear they only trust you and Ashara, anyway. Now you can have many precious years with Ashara, and not have to worry about marriages. For a while, anyway.

☀️Arianne Martell☀️

It's like you were meant to be her dearest friend. Your father was good friends with Doran Martell, so it only seemed natural that their daughters should be each other's companions. Arianne almost can't remember you not being there. You've always been a constant in her life, and you were different from her other companions or the Sand Snakes she considered sisters.

You two are notorious in Sunspear for your mischief, wether it's Arianne dragging you into it or you're just as bad. Prince Doran takes it in stride, as it's never truly malicious, and Uncle Oberyn only encourages it. Several times Doran has scolded you girls for being so mischevious to guests you dislike. Arianne gets most of the scolding - she's the eldest, and his heir, she ought to know better ... she never turns the blame on you, just teases that you owe her for covering for you.

There's always companions and cousins to play with, but you're second to none. Arianne makes this clear with her words and actions. You're to sit by her and hold her hand and are chosen first for her games. If you're competing with another child, Arianne is rooting for you and maybe helping you cheat.

She was your first kiss, too. It's when you were playing hide and seek around the vast orchards. Arianne found you, and gave you a quick kiss rather than saying "you're it!". Later she claimed it was to confuse you so she'd have more time to run, but maybe that wasn't the whole reason. When you bring it up years later as adults, she's both embarrassed at her childishness and a bit proud.

The downside to being her favorite is the jealousy. Not from the others - that's easy to deal with - it's if you're playing with someone else, especially a girl. More than once you and Arianne have gotten into arguments because she felt ignored. The little fight only lasts a few hours before you both make up, and Arianne is better about it once she's older.

Much of the jealousy stems from her being aware of her feelings early on. She knows they aren't feelings one has for a friend. Arianne is open about how she finds you the loveliest and the best, and she loves receiving the same praise in kind, but she wonders if you have the same feelings. She isn't ashamed of them, she knows girls can feel that way about girls - but she also knows only boys and girls can marry. It gives her much to think about.

She doesn't think about it long. Once she's Princess of Dorne, you can always stay by her side! Problem solved. She pitches the idea throughout your childhood. You'll never have to worry about a thing, she'll make sure of it. You both will always have the best gowns and go to the best parties and never have to part. It'll be like a dream.

Prince Doran is more than happy you and Arianne get along so well - you end up being like another daughter to him - he does often worry about her attachment. She can't expect you to always be there, and she doesn't want to listen to any talk of you leaving. Well, he figures she might see reason once she's grown ...

#yes i had to do emojis i regret nothing lol #sansa stark x reader #margaery tyrell x reader #ashara dayne x reader #arianne martell x reader #game of thrones x reader #libra headcanons

[imagines-all-day-everyday]

Life with Robb Stark after the war would include...

first of all, red wedding? what is that? never happened, never going to happen

robb wins his war and the north gains their independence

all of a sudden he really is king of the north

king robb stark of winterfell, the title was weird to him

what was even weirder was how he was treated so differently

because even when he was rebelling against the lannister's, he'd been just that, a rebel. but now he was actually a king, he could sense how skittish his men were around him

except you

your parents were wealthy merchants in winterfell with close ties to the starks

so, naturally you'd grown up alongside the stark siblings

but you and robb had always been the closest, joined at the hip since before you could walk

your parents always knew you'd end up together

but the two of you had always insisted you were just friends, nothing more

but then ned died and all of a sudden he was marching off to war

and you stuck by his side through thick and thin, never treating him any differently just because he was 'king robb'

you were always more than happy to tell him how he was fucking up

and holy shit could you dish it out and stand your ground

and maybe he had just been too caught up in himself but it hit him in that moment as you were yelling at him for doing something stupid and self sacrificing in the middle of the battle

holy shit he was in love with you

robb had always been in love with you actually, if he was being totally honest with himself

he kept it to himself because he needed to be 100% focused and if you rejected his advances he'd probably lose the whole god damn war

but then he won and after that last battle he finds you in your tent, his armour still on and soaked with blood

and this man pours his fucking heart out to you and you do the same because you've been in love with this man since you could remember

"I can't believe our parents were fucking right."

"We're never going to hear the end of this are we?"

you get married very quickly after that because you have spent your entire lives denying your feelings and you are not going to waste anymore time pretending that you aren't soulmates

now they chant and toast to the king and queen of the north

it takes a long time for you to get used to being called queen

the people of the north adoring you

like you are 1000% the favourite

but robb doesn't blame them one bit

especially when he sees you spending your time tending to the poor and sick and visiting surrounding villages

catelyn approving of you (shockingly)

although she has kind of a complex with you because you technically have taken her place

but robb puts a stop to her bitchiness the second he spots it

but you can hold your own too

finally getting the other stark children back

and although nothing will ever replace the loss of ned, you feel like a family

and it is not long until you and robb start your own

it took a little while for you to fall pregnant

not for lack of trying

neither of you minded it taking a little longer

"well we just need more practice love"

then you finally fall pregnant and this man just spins you around and showers you with kisses

robb being the most protective and excited dad of all time before the baby is even born

like he is constantly rubbing your belly and talking to the baby which makes you love him even more

arya and sansa being so excited to be aunts

catelyn was not overly fussed on the new nickname 'granny' being thrown around by her kids

but she could hardly contain her excitement

robb holding your hand the entire time while you give birth even though at some points he was convinced you were going to crush it

he sobs when he cradles his son in his arms for the first time

baby eddard stark is the first

neddy for short of course

and four more follow after him because you grew up seeing how happy the stark kids were with their siblings and you want the exact same for your kids and so does robb

after neddy is jon, then alys, alira and lastly baby mikal

winterfell castle being just pure chaos 24/7

you and robb would finally think you were getting a sleep in when you would hear the laughter from the hallway and your precious alone time would vanish right before your eyes

servants would literally have to leap out of the way as your kids bolted the hallways

"well they have definitely inherited your spirit"

"and they have inherited your stubbornness"

oh god and the chaos at dinner

sometimes the kids would be fighting and playing and you and robb would just give up and look at each other from opposite ends of the table and shrug in defeat

robb being the most gentle, caring and devoted father to all of his kids

and he is such a softy when it comes to his two girls

like this man literally defeated the lannisters yet he cannot bring himself to say no to two tiny children

robb teaching all of the kids archery and sword fighting

"don't you think you're starting them a bit young?"

"I was three when I picked up my first sword and look how I turned out."

"exactly."

the kids being so excited when uncle jon comes to visit

missing robb like crazy when he goes away on some sort of expedition or mission

and your children pick up on this and go out of their way to be slightly more manageable then usual

robb coming home a day early to surprise you to find all six of you asleep in bed together, cuddling and softly snoring

oh and you know grey wind becomes their personal guard dog

and you can tell he is beyond unimpressed when one of the toddlers tries to clamber onto his back or tug on his tail

but he puts up with it, you think he secretly enjoys it

because like robb, he is a massive softy on the inside

you and robb just having the most blissful marriage ever

like you have been best friends with this man since you could walk so you know each other inside and out

you can read each other perfectly so your fights are always so short lived and trivial

you could be married for years and this man will still act like a hormonal teenager around you

much to your children's disgust

"let's make another baby"

"I think five is more than enough Robb."

"let's practice then"

catelyn struggling sometimes because she sees how robb is with you and the kids and it reminds her so much of ned

but she is so happy to be a grandmother and is more than happy to take them off your hands to give you both some private time

everyday you wake up and think you couldn't possibly love this man anymore but somehow you fall more in love with him everyday

basically just being the antithesis of everything expected of westeros relationships and marriages

like you two are so goddamn healthy and normal it's almost weird

cersei could never :P

robb just getting everything he deserves and more because he is an angel

#robb stark #these are fun #robb stark imagine #robb stark headcannons #robb stark oneshot #robb stark imagines #robb stark fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones oneshot #game of thrones fanfiction #got #got imagine #got fanfiction #got fic #got imagines #got oneshot #robb stark x reader #robb x reader #reader x robb #reader x robb stark

[agentrouka-blog]

Jon Snow killing D@ny to save Sansa (and the whole Westeros) of her fiery threat is a reverse parallel of the legend of Azor Ahai.

I'm not sure I think GRRM would try to frame it that way.

Ultimately, Azor Ahai kills his wife in order to turn a weapon into a superweapon, the purpose of which is presumed to be benevolent (but was it?) and we already see this legend referenced in various ways through Stannis and Daenerys. The moral of the tale is that the end justifies the means, and the end is still defined as "stabbing is good if the right person does it!"

That seems a very short-sighted resolution to the questions GRRM has posed about political power and ethics throughout the series.

When you consider the aftermath of violently removing volatile figureheads, such as Craster, or Aerys II Targaryen, or Tywin Lannister, you're never left with a positive change. The power vaccuum creates either chaos or just a takeover of the next best tyrant into the existing structure. Simply stabbing Dany doesn't save Westeros, if the dragons (even one) still roam around, and unless her armies can be peacefully dissolved and settled, we're looking at the aftermath of the War of the Five Kings only worse.

Is that a noble deed? An end that justifies the means?

In order to actually subvert or reverse the legend of Azor Ahai, it's the blade that has to be destroyed, and the blade Dany wields are the dragons and the people who want to kill in her name.

(Meanwhile, killing a figurehead AND his blade, as was done with Robb and most of the Northern army in the Red Wedding, also doesn't lead to a stable outcome. It's simply a massacre that breeds more resistance against those who perpetrated it.)

The thing that gives Melisandre power is the willingness of people who kill in her name, based on what she promises, too. Remove that and she poses no threat - but can she handle that?

I don't doubt there will be characters willing and planning to end the threat by simply killing Dany, but I think we will definitely be shown a (more sober, more boring) attempt to dismantle her power from various angles that place influence in a plurality of hands. That would necessarily include the emancipation of the Unsullied and of the Dothraki, and the destruction and/or alienation of some of her superweapon dragons. In theory, this would open up a path for Dany to relent and live - or to further dig down, into ultimate self-destruction. Which is the Targaryen mode of choice and her highly probable end.

Whether or not she lives, it would still mean the destruction of her power, with a clear emphasis on various factions being forced into dialogue because they no longer have a clear and easy purpose dictated to them. Given Jon's history in the Watch with the wildlings, I'm pretty sure that's the main effect he'll have, rather than a stabbing.

If you want to dismantle and reverse the legend of Azor Ahai you have to do more than simply switch out the roles. You have to dismantle the idea of the sword being the solution in the first place. And I am growing ever more certain that this is what GRRM will be going for.

#anti daenerys targaryen #azor ahai #asoiaf speculation #jon snow

[arthurian-texts]

There’s a scene in Chretien’s Knight of the Cart that’s absolutely crucial for how I see Gawain and Arthur’s relationship, one that probably sticks in my mind more than any other for how subtly and succinctly it captures so many complexities of their dynamic.

For context, this is right after Arthur agrees to let Guinevere go into a quite obvious trap (which ultimately leads to Guinevere’s abduction by Meleagant) with only Kay for protection, simply because he’d promised to grant whatever Kay asked. We’re told that “there was no one who was not upset” at this decision, but no one dares openly stop it or contradict Arthur - who is, after all, the king.

And it’s then that we get this crucial exchange:

No one’s grief was strong enough to prompt him to follow after her until Sir Gawain addressed the king, his uncle, in private. “Lord, you have behaved like a child, and I am astonished,” he said. “But if you heed my counsel, then while they are still near, we shall follow them, you and I, along with any others who wish to come there. As for me, I could not hold back from racing after them. It would be wrong for us not to follow them, at least until we know what will happen to the queen, and how Kay will behave.”

“Let us set off, dear nephew,” the king replied. “You have spoken courteously now. Since you have taken this matter into your hands, have the horses bridled, saddled, and led out that we may mount without delay.”

There’s always a very delicate balance Gawain is walking in how he interacts with Arthur, and you see it even in how the relationship is described here: the king, his uncle. On one hand, Arthur is Gawain’s relative, which gives him a certain leeway to treat him, if not quite as an equal, certainly much closer to it than most people could dare. But on the other hand, Arthur is the king, Gawain’s king, and questioning his authority too strongly would be considered unacceptable.

And I think you see that balance in such a fascinating way here. We’re told that everyone was unhappy with Arthur’s decision, but only Gawain dares to say so. Not only that, he basically tears into Arthur in incredibly strong terms: “You have behaved like a child, and I am astonished.” Clearly, Gawain feels confident that he’s earned the right to speak his mind to Arthur - to give him a piece of his mind, really, in this scene - and he doesn’t seem remotely afraid that there might be consequences for doing so.

But. But. Notice that crucial little detail there: in private. Gawain very pointedly waits to say anything about this until he and Arthur are alone. In public, around the other knights, Gawain doesn’t say a single word to contradict Arthur’s decision. In private, he tells him he’s acted like a child.

I’m reminded of a post I wrote a while ago about Game of Thrones, pointing out that Jon and Daenerys both make a distinction between being criticized in public and in private. Daenerys tells Jorah and Ser Barristan: “You’re both here to advise me. I value your advice. But if you ever question me in front of strangers again, you’ll be advising someone else.” And similarly after being crowned King in the North, Jon tells Sansa: “You are my sister, but I am king now. When you question my decisions in front of the other lords and ladies, you undermine me.” (Emphasis mine.) In both cases, I think the point was pretty clearly not ‘You cannot criticize me’, but rather ‘You cannot publicly undermine my authority’.

Arthur doesn’t need to tell Gawain this. Gawain knows. And I think you get a powerful sense of the trust between them from this short moment: Gawain trusts that he can speak his mind freely to Arthur without consequences, but he waits to do so until it’s just the two of them. In return, Arthur doesn’t stand on his ego but listens humbly and accepts Gawain’s criticism. I think it’s particularly fascinating that he tells Gawain he’s spoken courteously. On the face of it, “You have behaved like a child, and I am astonished” doesn’t sound remotely courteous - it sounds downright rude, in fact. And yet Arthur clearly doesn’t think so. He not only admits that Gawain is right, he endorses the way he said it as correct and praiseworthy.

I think that’s a great demonstration of how Gawain’s courtesy isn’t just a synonym for “polite”: it’s about his ability to follow social codes for correct behavior. Here, the measure of his courtesy isn’t that he always minces words, but that he understands when it is and isn’t acceptable to speak bluntly.

And I think it’s telling, too, that even when he’s basically telling Arthur off, he still addresses him formally as “Lord”. That might seem like a meaningless formality when the rest of what he’s saying seems anything but respectful, but I don’t think it is. I think it’s a constant reminder that Gawain never forgets Arthur is his king, or the respect that’s due to him, even when he’s openly questioning his decisions. He might seem harsh, but yet it's always tempered by a fundamental deference and he's careful never to overstep those lines.

He knows his place, not in the sense of being a doormat, but in the most literal sense of understanding the multiple - in some ways conflicting - roles he occupies and the expectations thereof: As Arthur's nephew, his knight, his subject, his advisor and right-hand man, arguably his friend and/or surrogate son (or brother, depending on your interpretation) as well. The fact that he manages to thread that needle so well is a testament to just how intelligent and socially adept he is, and the fact that Arthur gives him leave to speak his mind so bluntly to him in private is a huge testament to the mutual trust and respect between them.

#king arthur #sir gawain #arthuriana #round table #chretien de troyes #analysis #the knight of the cart #this blog is not in fact dead #watch this space

[damn-stark]

Chapter 14 Ice & fire

Chapter 14 of Sandstorm

A/N- Stop this my favorite chapter, and the next one will be so good and full of fluff too.

Warning- Violence, blood, swearing, talks of death, fluff!, talks of birth, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS LATER*

Hints of smoke filter the room as the candles are brought to life, basking the room and the altar with its yellow dancing hue.

It’s hard, but you manage to get on your knees on the pillow and slowly look up at the portrait of Rhaenar. “Hello my boy,” you whisper as if he were here. “Sorry I didn't come last night, I,” you scoff softly. “Couldn’t stay awake,” you laugh softly and drop your gaze as you clasp your hands together. “I’ve come to update you, all the forests at Storm's End are finally burnt, no tree means no ships. This morning the soldiers managed to completely cut off all food from coming in and out of Storm's End as well. Let’s see how King Gendry handles this problem.”

You sigh deeply and look up at his portrait; the only way you can see his face ever again. “Thanks to the Riverlands alliance and the Reach we’ve managed to reach King’s Landing borders, we have them surrounded. It’s been a short war, but well she hardly has any allies here…she’s just stubborn….” you trail off and groan as a a dull but irritating pain radiates throughout your lower back. “Anyway, I just want you to know that I’m in good hands here with Jon…I’m grateful he’s with me. He doesn’t leave my side now that the babies are due any week. He…” you swallow thickly and smile softly. “He’s kept my anger in check. Oh! And Helios left now, last night, he’s on his own now. Hopefully, I’ll see him again.”

Your smile then falters and tears fill your eyes, but you hold them back and instead offer him a happy smile. “That’s all for tonight, I’ll return tomorrow. I love you.” You linger in front of the altar for a moment longer before you try and push yourself up. However, the huge belly you now have forbids you proving Jon right; you do need him by your side all the time now.

“Ser Podrick,” you call out to the Knight standing outside the door. “May you come help me up? I believe Jon is right.” You look back and expect the door to open right away, but there’s no sound of metal armor brushing against each other, there’s no hurried footsteps as the kind knight tries to hurry to do as commanded, there’s silence.

“Ser Podrick?” You call out again. You wait, but nothing. “Okay,” you breathe out and now drop your head to try and get up yourself.

It’s a struggle, definitely, but you start to move up to your feet. The door then creaks open and you scoff breathlessly. “I’ve done it, Ser Podrick, no need to help now.” You smirk proudly and peer back, and that’s when you notice that the man hidden under a cloak is not Ser Podrick, or anyone you know; and you know that because you’ve made sure to take in all the faces of the soldiers that fight for you, everyone that lives in this castle and or is temporarily staying. This man is a stranger.

You try to reach for your concealed blade, but the man snatches your wrist and shakes his head. “No,” he says in an accent you’ve only heard across the sea and…with the Unsullied. She sent him.

You try to fight back and use your knee to hit him, but you can’t move your leg that far at the moment, so you instead stumble back and hit the altar. You try to reach for a candle, but then another man barges in and he quickly makes sure to cover your mouth and nose with a cloth that makes you lightheaded for a second, before darkness follows as you fall unconscious.

——

*JON*

The view of the stuffed wolves shifts as it tilts to the side. “Damn,” he hisses under his breath and reaches over to sit it up again and tilt it again so it can stay seated like the other one on the other cradle.

Just now a small package had arrived from Old Town, Sam had sent presents for the unborn twins; two black stuffed wolves. And Jon wanted to surprise you, but there was one defiant stuffed wolf that wouldn't stay up.

“Fuck it,” he gives up and leaves the one wolf on its side. He however does stay in front of the cradles and watches them even if they lay empty for now. A knock albeit then raps on the door, interrupting his quiet moment.

“Come in,” he addresses the visitor.

The door opens and footsteps walk in past the door, he turns and sees Ser Brienne, and the other six Queensguard Knights and Ser Jaime outside the door with worried expressions that make him falter.

“Your Grace,” Ser Brienne interjects and averts her gaze. “It’s the Queen…”

His eyes widen and a smile begins to tug on his lips as he thinks that you went into labor.

“….she’s gone,” Ser Brienne finishes, causing Jon’s smile to fall and panic and disbelief to paint over his face—“she was taken. Ser Podrick was put down by some kind of sleeping effect. I’m sorry, I will go on horseback and try to follow the trail of the abductors.”

Jon drops his eyes and stumbles back. “How…how could you let this happen?” He spats. “Why wasn’t there more than one guard with her?!”

“She went to the altar within the castle grounds, we never thought they’d take her from here. I’m sorry.”

Jon exhales and turns around as he shakes his head before he knocks the pitcher of water and cups off the table out of anger for them, your Queensguard, and himself for not disobeying you and staying by your side.

“We think that the abductors were probably undercover, or hiding and preying on the Queen from the shadows.”

Jon scoffs and then abruptly picks up his sword to storm out of the room. “Ser Brienne, you and two others of the Queensgaurd hurry and try to catch up to the abductors trail, two of you can stay with me,” he immediately commands. “Ser Rayne, have the castle locked down, no one leaves or comes in. Wake up the members of the small council have them convene at the hall, rally up the soldiers to get ready to march out.”

“One more thing,” Ser May adds. “There were two soldiers; an Unsullied and what we assume to be one of the Second Sons soldiers caught trying to escape the castle.”

Jon’s eyes snap to the woman knight and the corner of his lips curl. “Where?” He asks.

“We tied them up outside in the courtyard. Your sister, Lady Arya, is watching them.”

Jon nods and quickens his footsteps to head out to the courtyard first.

“If I may,” Ser Jaime cuts in and hurries up to catch up to Jon’s side. “I would like to accompany Ser Brienne and the Queensguard. I owe the Queen my life, let me help.”

Jon looks at Ser Jaime and then glances at his golden hand. The Knight notices and counters.

“I’m not whole, but again, I owe her my life. And…I made her and her father a promise. I might’ve failed before, but I won’t now. I’ll find her, protect her and your children.”

Jon’s hesitant, he only wanted the best after you, but if he wants to go then he can’t stop him. “Fine,” Jon says. “Go.”

Jaime offers Jon a nod before he and the others depart and hurry off to do as said. Once Jon makes it outside, Tyrion joins his side. “If I may—”

“You cannot,” Jon cuts him off. “For all I know you were the one that let in those people that took Y/N. Actually I should have you arrested. Ser Lana, take him to the cells, I’ll think of what will happen after I’ve brought back my wife.”

The Knight right away grabs Tyrion and pins his arms back, but he still manages to cut in with more words that begin to irritate Jon. “It’s smart to lock me up. I don’t have anything to do with it and only just found out as I saw your sister torturing the soldiers, but you won’t get an answer from the unsullied. Nothing will make him talk.”

Jon stops and turns on his heels to talk back. “I don’t need him to talk.” Jon clenches his jaw and gives him his back to continue towards the courtyard.

When he gets there he sees the two men tied back to back, both of them are bleeding but only one of them looks affected by the torture afflicted.

“Have either of them spoke?” Jon asks Arya.

Arya stands up straight and shakes her head. “No. Not yet, but they will.”

Jon shoots a glare at the unsullied. “Only one will,” he deadpans before he snatches the collar of the Unsullied’s chest armor and begins to drag him out towards the gate. “Bring the other one,” he commands Arya.

And without question or hesitation his sister obeys and trusts his actions, letting him feel thankful for that at this very moment.

“<You’ll die screaming in flames,> the Unsullied spats in Valyrian probably thinking that neither Jon or Arya can understand, but thanks to you he was learning and understood every word.

It’s why Jon stops in his tracks and drags the Unsullied around to be able to face him as he counters back venomously. “<After you.> He rolls his eyes ahead and continues to drag the man out, the gates open without him needing to say anything, and there in the darkness that blanketed the hill ahead lands a green beast. Due to the cloudy night he’s not seen, but his thunderous footsteps are heard before his blazing bronze eyes appear ahead, they begin to narrow as he begins to growl.

Jon walks towards Rheagal and leaves the Unsullied soldier there on the ground, before he steps back and clasps his hands in front of him. And without hesitation, remorse or a moment to ask questions, Jon says those menacing words. “<Dracarys>”

Rhaegal breathes out fire over the soldier, swallowing him in flames within seconds. The intense heat hits Jon, but he doesn’t move, he stands in front of the flames and watches the soldier begin to squirm, clench his jaw but eventually scream out when he couldn’t handle the flames eating at his flesh and bones. Jon watches the flesh melt off his bones before nothing is left but black burnt bones.

When all that moves is the flames Jon slowly turns around and faces the other soldier with a burning glower on his face. Rhaegal approaches Jon to be beside him, and growls at the soldier without needing to say anything. And this one soldier, unlike the other one, is visibly shaking, sweat beads roll off his face, and a foul smell begins to come off him as he just keeps his eyes on the dragon beside Jon.

“Please,” the soldier begs under Aryas grip. “Please. Mercy.”

Jon stomps towards the soldier and assures him in an angry filled tone. “My dragon won’t eat you, but only if you tell me where they took my wife.”

The soldier swallows thickly and slowly slides his eyes to Jon. He hesitates for a moment but his fear takes control and he can’t help but betray the Queen he was meant to be fighting for. “Harrenhal, Queen Daenerys asked to bring her to Harrenhal. That’s all I know, I swear, please…mercy. I’ll fight for you.”

Jon lets out a deep breath and without needing to say anything Arya pulls out her dagger and slices the man’s throat, killing him instantly. “Let Rhaegal eat him,” Jon grumbles before he sets towards the great hall.

When he’s inside all the members are already there, most of them are not as collected as usual because of how late it is, but they’re there and all go quiet as Jon strides in with his jaw clenched and his gaze narrowed. Arya follows behind with her chin raised high, and they notice you’re not leading the way or behind them, providing even more confusion.

“I know the hour is late, my lords and ladies,” Jon addresses everyone when he’s on the platform facing them. “But a dire situation arose, the Queen, my wife,” he sighs and clenches his fists. “Was abducted.”

Murmurs spread around the room and Sansa gets up from her chair, losing her smile as she thought you were having the babies.

“Queen Daenerys sent some of her men undercover to take her when she was visiting her son's altar,” Jon shares with them. “No one was killed during the act, and the Queensguard did manage to find two who had fallen behind. I killed them already after I got information from one of them. They’re taking her to Harrenhal. ”

“How did they sneak in and not get detected?” Sarella demands to know. “Why did her guards not stop them? That’s why they’re there!”

“Yes,” Jon agrees, “but they couldn’t, or at least that’s to my understanding, Ser Brienne said Ser Podrick was put to sleep that’s how they took her.”

“Where is Ser Brienne?” Elia asks. “And that dwarf? It was probably him, he was probably her spy, that's why they got in without getting noticed.”

The others quietly agree, and Sansa can’t defend him now because she might be right.

“Ser Brienne, and Ser Jaime and three others from the Queensguard went after the abductors. Lord Tyrion was placed under custody by me just now,” Jon shares. “He’ll remain there until after I return with Queen Y/N, after that we will decide what to do. As to how they got in?” He pauses and shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I will get her back. Daenerys seems to be getting desperate, she knows she can’t hold Kings Landing without allies, winter is cruel and she can’t feed the people she wants to protect. She’s losing but doesn’t want to fail, it’s probably why she took the Queen, she probably wants us to surrender for her return, and if…y/n gives birth then she’ll use the children as leverage as well. But I won’t give up,” Jon adds and exhales deeply.

“I won’t lose y/ns fight, nor will I lose her, I will bring her back home and we’ll take that throne. Daenerys wants this war to come to an end, so we’ll give her what she wants.” Jon spats menacingly.

“Arya,” he names and the girl straightens up. “Sarella,” he adds, causing her to lift her chin. “Ser Davos, Lord Royce, you will lead the attack on the ground. They may have the numbers, but they’re on our lands, we know our lands, Daenerys doesn’t, we have the advantage. I will ride on Rhaegal and fight Daenerys and Drogon, keep her away from the armies while Ser Brienne, Ser Jaime and the Queensguard find y/n,” he continues, “we will find y/n and bring an end to this war.”

“What about me?” Elia interjects and jumps to her feet. “What will I do? It’s my cousin that they took, my sister, I can help.”

Jon’s gaze drifts to the girl, he knows she’s good on horseback, probably better than he is, but no matter how skilled she is he can’t bring himself to risk her life….and well Sansa does need people here to help her in case Daenerys wants to attack while the armies are marching elsewhere.

“Stay here,” Jon shares with the girl, already noticing her disbelief and annoyance. “Help Sansa keep the castle safe. That’s your job.”

Elia parts her mouth to argue back but Sarella pulls her back and whispers something to her, bringing silence and no other objections.

“Bran, if you can…see where Eraxis is, we might need her in battle,” Jon adds as he steps down the steps. “As for everyone else, fight, win, and don’t die, your Queen depends on it. Now let’s bring Queen Y/N back.”

——

*LATER. YOU*

The sound of booming thunder startles you awake. Is it storming outside?

You slowly sit up, and immediately that daze that took you captive and made you believe you were home disappears as you notice the small stone room you’re in.

That’s right…you were taken by Unsullied, by Daenerys.

Where did they bring you?

The room smells humid, thanks to the light provided by the single dancing flame eating away at the torch, you notice moss growing between the creaks of the wall. There’s only one window, but it’s far too high for you to see through. There’s one tiny bed, and a vase of water on the wooden nightstand, nothing else resides in this room besides that.

What’s her plan with you?

“Hey,” you call out and slide off the bed to stride towards the door. “Hey.”

There’s no answer.

“Hey!” You yell out louder and begin banging at the door. “Where am I? Where’s Daenerys! Tell her to come and stop being a fucking coward!” You pound both fists on the door, but receive no answer, so you turn and glance at the window; it’s far too small for you to escape out of with the belly, even if you didn’t have it, it would still be far too small. But it can give you insight about where you are.

Yet…there’s nothing for you to use to climb on and see through it, damn it!

You turn back around and begin to pound on the door again. “Tell me why I'm here! Bring her!”

Nothing again. You don’t have weapons to use. Damn. So there’s nothing left to go but keep hitting your hand against the door to annoy them and hopefully get an answer. Several minutes pass before finally through the sound of heavy rain multiple footsteps begin to approach the door. You back up expecting them to open the door, but instead the panel from the door's small window opens, and Daenerys' face appears.

“You should be resting,” she says, that’s the first thing she tells you after what she did—“it’s not safe for the babies—”

“You should let me out,” you cut her spitefully. “Or come in here. Let's see how good it goes for you.”

Daenerys scoffs. “I’m no fool, I know that the moment I walk in there you’ll try and kill me, as you know I have someone I have to protect now too.”

You clench your jaw and glare at her.

“You won’t be hurt,” she adds. “But you won’t be let out either.”

“Jon will come,” you sneer. “He’ll get me out.”

A sly smirk tugs on her face before she retorts. “I’m counting on it, but you can save him from the fate that he'll meet today. Bend the knee, you’ll be pardoned and get to live your life with your children wherever you want. Don’t, and lose him and all those that come after you.”

You swallow thickly and rather than seeming upset, defeated and give into submission, you lean forward and hold her gaze with a burning glare; even if inside your heart was beginning to tear at the thought of losing the one person that mattered to you now, the only person keeping you together, Jon.

“Kill him,” you snarl. “And I will kill you after I carve out that damn baby out of your stomach.”

Daenerys blinks in disbelief.

“Ask me,” you retort with a mischievous smirk even if you begin to feel a sharp cramp on your lower stomach. “Ask me how it is that you were able to get pregnant.”

Daenerys stiffens and her jaw clenches. She doesn’t reply so you continue.

“It was me. I was the one that reversed that witches spell. You should be on your knees thanking me you fucking bitch. Now, ask me why I did it.” You snicker.

Daenerys lifts her chin and looks at you with a gaze full of tears. She backs away and the panel then closes, blocking out the view of her tear covered eyes.

So she has you here as a trap to lure Jon and everyone else here? She wants to kill Jon now too?

No…not him. Anyone but him. If he dies…what else is there? What—

Again there’s a sharp cramp on your lower stomach and back. This was a lot more painful, it rattles your entire being.

The babies?

You twist around and look around panicked, no ounce of anger lingering behind, no hate for Daenerys, nothing but worry. Thunder claps in the sky, causing your shoulders to jump and more pain to attack your body.

But you’re here, stuck in a cell without Jon, they can’t come yet. Not yet. You’re all alone here, without even your dragon to keep you company. They can’t come yet—

More pain hits you and this time water pours out of you and runs down your legs and hits the stone floor. “No,” you murmur with tears in your eyes. “No. Not yet, please.”

Yet you have no word on the matter, they’re coming fast.

You try to lay on the bed, but the pain becomes insufferable, it makes you restless and doesn’t let you keep quiet anymore, you begin to grunt, groan and cry out as the first baby begins to come out fast. It’s not like before either; and maybe it’s due to the fact that you had your sisters, midwives and maesters with you, but this time the pain of labor is worse.

So much so that without you knowing Eraxis even feels the suffering you’re under, unbeknownst to you Jon had come across her on his way to you and he heard Eraxis cry erupt in the sky. He however doesn’t know why she screeches, he thinks it’s because she knows you’re missing. She might miss you, that’s what he thinks.

But no, you were under withering pain, covered in sweat and squatting on the ground.

“Come on!” You bellow out and then cry. “Get out!”

Thunder keeps erupting in the skies, sometimes it drowns out your cries, but sometimes it seems you’re louder.

A few minutes, or hours later who knows, just as Thunder roars in the sky, out slides the first baby after your last push.

“Oh,” you gasp softly and shakily lift the baby up in your arms, noticing that the first one out is Rhaenyra. She’s so tiny, so red and beautiful.

Rhaenar was the same when he came out….

However, he cried right away, Rhaenyra doesn’t. She stays quiet and you can’t help but grow concerned.

“Rhaenyra,” you whimper.

And as if understanding her name at that second she then breaks out crying, she begins to squirm in your hands, and squints her swollen eyes.

“Hi,” you muse and press your forehead against hers very gently. “Hi my love. Hi Rhaenyra, it’s okay, you’re okay. You’re with me. I’ll keep you safe.” You smile, but it’s only for a second because more pain then overwhelms you as the other baby follows to come out.

You try to be quiet so as to not startle Rhaenyra, but you can’t keep quiet, you cry out as you push. You place Rhaenyra down on the skirt of your dress and claw your nails on the floor as you keep pushing.

Thankfully the second baby comes out faster, and this one uses his new fresh pair lungs to cry out the moment they’re out.

“It’s okay,” you whisper and lift up the second baby, noticing that it’s a boy. The second one is a beautiful baby boy. “Hello my sweetling.” You cry out happily as you pull him towards you to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Hello my love.”

You then proceed to put him down next to his sister, and rapidly yank off your necklace to wrap the chain around the umbilical cords to cut them off. Once that’s done you pull the thin blanket off the bed to wrap them up and keep them warm, before you pick up the both of them and cradle them in your arms with a wobbly grin, and tears streaming down your cheeks. “I know, I know, your father isn’t here, but you’ll meet him soon, he’s going to be so happy. He’s so excited to meet the both of you.” You smile and watch them both calm down as they hear you talking to them. “Does it sound scary outside? Yeah that’s thunder, but it’s okay, you know my uncle Oberyn, your uncle, said that being born during a storm is a sign of good luck, a good omen, you my babies will have a good and exciting life.” You grin and watch the baby boy watch you with eyes as dark as Jon are. “But as for now it’ll go away.”

You then reach for the boy's hand, and he doesn't fail to wrap his little hand around your finger. “I’m sorry,” you direct at him. “I’m sorry you don’t have a name yet, your father…hasn’t decided. He’s too nervous about it.” You laugh softly. “You look like him,” you whisper. “Same dark eyes, same dark hair.”

The afterbirth comes out but you pay no mind to it, you’re too busy admiring the babies. “You, my lovely girl, have his eyes too, they’re so beautiful and dark.” Her hair albeit wasn’t the same color as Jon’s and her twin brothers, she doesn’t have a lot yet, but from what you can see, you can tell her hairs are silver-white just like yours, and your fathers.

She has Jon’s eyes though, they both do. Thank the gods they do. It’s like having him with you.

“There’s so many people happy to meet you.” You continue talking to them, unable to help your smile as they both watch you as if they’re hanging on to every word you’re saying.

“When we get home you’ll also meet your cradle mates, the dragon eggs your big brother Rhaenar picked out for you.” You let out a shaky breath as tears threaten to come out, but you hold them in. “You’ll meet Eraxis and Rhaegal too. You’ll fly soon as well, I promise.” You muster a smile and can’t help but caress their little cheeks.

They keep watching you, they bore their deep and dark eyes in you, and they’re all you can watch too. That is until the door opens and Greyworm walks in with a stoic face.

“Get out,” you grumble.

He however ignores you and approaches you. He crouches down and takes them, he takes the babies from your arms.

“No,” you sneer and try and push yourself up. “No! Give them back to me!”

The babies notice the stranger holding them, they don’t feel your warmth anymore and cry out. And that only makes you panic more, and triggers an adrenaline rush that lets you stand on your feet.

“Give me back my babies!” You bellow out as Greyworm only gets further away. “Greyworm!” You reach out for him, but the door then slams shut behind him and your babies. All you’re left to do is once again pound on the door and cry out, but this time with more desperation, this time with fuming anger, and thick tears.

You hit and hit the door over and over again until your hands are bloody and bruised. Eventually though the adrenaline runs its course and exhaustion overruns your body, leaving you stranded against the door and battling sleep.

The thunder had seemed to stop too, which is good, the twins are probably scared. Without the thunder however the cell was quiet, and it’s dangerous because it tempts you to sleep.

But you can’t fall asleep, you need to stay awake and keep trying to get that door open. You need to rescue your babies, they need you….

But this exhaustion is like a weight, it keeps pressing and pressing down. It dulls your senses, making your vision blur as your eyelids begin to droop, your hearing begins to tune out, causing you to ignore the rattling that shook the fragile castle and the hundreds of footsteps outside of the castle that sounded like more thunder. Your mind begins to go quiet as well as it dangles between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Grunting and groaning, metal clashing against each other begins to sound outside the door, but it seems distant so you ignore it and can’t help but rest your eyes.

Just for a second…

Alas, only a few minutes before the door gets pushed open, hitting your back and causing you to snap your eyes open.

The door gets pushed again, so you quickly drag yourself to the side and have no choice but to wait for the visitor that slowly creeps inside.

There’s no kind of weapon around you, so you hide in the corner of the cell and hold your breath so as to not be heard. A foot steps inside first before the door gets pushed open more, you then turn your head away and clench your jaw.

Yet just as the person peeks their head inside you quickly recognize the head of dirty blond hair. “Ser Jaime?” You breathe out, causing his head to snap to the side where you sit.

He gasps as his eyes widen with shock at the sight of your withered body.

“Your Grace,” he mutters before he rushes inside. And as he does come to you, you notice blood dripping down his leg.

“You’re bleeding,” you point out and stay pressed against the wall.

He shakes his head and crouches down, letting you see him twist his face as pain strikes from his leg. “Don’t worry about me, let’s get you up and out of here. You need to see a maester.”

You let him help you up but shake your head. “No…no, the baby’s,” you whisper and grab his arms to meet his gaze with tears clouding your eyes. “Greyworm took them.”

Jaime shakes his head again. “You’re in no condition to chase after anyone, let Jon do it, or Ser Brienne.”

“Jon?” You question. “Where is he?”

“Don’t you hear it?” He says and glances back. “He’s fighting the Queen to get you back.”

You shake your head. “She’ll kill him, she wanted to drag him out—”

“Don’t worry,” he cuts you off. “He’s not alone, he’s brought a whole army with him. I’ve never seen someone determined to get someone back...I envy it.”

The corner of your lips pull to a small smile at the thought of Jon coming after you, at the thought of him fighting for you, but the longer you stay here, the longer you’re apart from them.

“Then he can fight Daenerys,” you retort and pull away from him. “I’ll go after Greyworm and rescue my children. You shouldn’t doubt my determination, Ser Jaime.” You scoff as you begin to walk out of the room, feeling the exhaustion get pushed back as determination and fury replaces it for now.

“You are very stubborn,” Jaime throws out at you as he walks out after you.

However, before you can make it far you stop as you see the bloody bodies of Unsullied soldiers laid on the ground. You don’t feel bad, you’re just impressed that a man with one hand did all this.

“I’m impressed,” you tell the man and bend down to pick up a spear off the ground. “You did well.”

Jaime scoffs. “Not well enough…” he trails off and you glance at his bleeding leg.

“Let me have a—”

“No,” he cuts you off again. “Later. Right now tell me where we’re going. Do you know where Greyworm is taking your kids?”

You drop your gaze and search the ground as you think. “I,” you mutter and blink repeatedly.

Luckily you don’t linger too much in thought because it hits you quickly—There was a battle here now, Daenerys was here to lure you and Jon out so you can bend the knee. If you refused then her plan was taking the babies and forcing you to your knees. So they won’t be here, not so close…

“Kings Landing,” you throw out. “We may have them surrounded, but they can still go in and out, that’s where he’s going.”

Jaime doesn’t question you and nods, letting you add one more thing before you leave. “Thank you, ser Jaime. I owe you my life.”

Jaime shakes his head. “No you don’t. Now come on, my horse isn’t far from here.” He proceeds to grab your arm and begins to lead you out of the castle, and the closer you get outside the more you hear the sound of battle cries, shouts of pain, and clashing metal.

Yet the noise doesn’t compare to what plays in the sky. When you get out of the cover of the ruined castle, there up above rages a beautiful battle between dragons. Their fires light the sky like if thunder and lightning played within the clouds, as if the sun was out hiding within the thick stormy and smoke clouds. It was captivating.

“Here,” Ser Jaime snaps you from your stupor and pulls you to a brown horse. “Can you ride?”

You meet his gaze and nod. “Yes.” Your body fucking hurts, but fuck it.

Ser Jaime helps you mount the horse before he struggles to get on his. Eventually when you make it out on the dirt road, the sound of the battle on the ground grows quieter the further you get, but the sound of the dragons fighting does grow quieter, it doesn’t fade in the distance, their screeches and roars are still heard clearly miles away.

You look up and you can still see them battling, and you also catch someone else beside Rhaegal and Drogon in the sky. You hadn’t heard her at first, it didn’t seem like she was with them either when you first got out of the castle, but you see her now hidden between the clouds. And then she isn’t there.

The fire Drogon blasted out extinguishes, hiding the view of your white scaled dragon. It makes you slow down your horse to watch what comes next as your fascination grows.

However the darkness lingers, letting you not see a thing. You can only hear the sound of Eraxis screech before seconds later it seems that Rheagal blasts out fire next, letting you see Eraxis jaw clamped on Drogon’s neck, and her claws digging in his wing, causing them both to begin twirling down to the ground.

It was awestrucking, but…why was Eraxis there and not searching for you? It’s not like she would pay much mind to the battle without you there to tell her. There was also this anger within her, it was strange and new, it was almost like she was possessed.

Was she perhaps mad that you were gone?

Yeah…maybe that’s it.

Nevertheless, you nudge the horse to pick up its speed once again, letting you catch up to Ser Jaime before there’s a loud thud that shakes the ground.

“What was that?” Jaime asks.

You peer back and smirk softly. “The dragons.”

——

*A FEW MOMENTS LATER*

“Rhaenyra…and undecided. Jon hasn’t chosen a name.”

“Rhaenyra.” He nods softly. “It's a good name for a Queen.”

You smile faintly. “Yes, it is.”

“We’ll save your kids. If that’s the last thing I do,” he assures you, making you pull your gaze away from the dirt road below the green hill you wait on.

“Thank you,” is all you can say again.

Ever since he gave you his word he’s nothing but loyal. It’s more than what you deserve.

“There,” Jaime breaks the short silence and points. You follow his finger and catch a single carriage approaching rapidly. Since it’s dark you don’t see the rider right away, you have to nudge the horse to take a step forward, that’s when you gasp as you catch Greyworm at the front, leading the horse.

“All right, I’ll block him off at the front and you sneak behind him when we begin to fight,” Jaime explains. “As soon as you get those babies, you run out of here and meet Ser Brienne, she’ll be at the south side of the castle. Don’t linger behind, just take them. Understand?”

And leave him to die? He’s not the warrior he once was, it will be like easy practice to Greyworm. Jaime will die.

“I can’t leave you to die!” You snap out with concern.

Jaime meets your gaze and shakes his head. “I’ve told you already, I owe you, don’t worry about me.”

You draw in a deep breath, and just as you’re going to argue, he nudges his horse to run down the hill as Greyworm gets closer. You wait a little longer and just watch Jaime get further down the green hill until he eventually runs out onto the road and blocks the carriage's way, causing Greyworm to come to an immediate halt.

They share a few words from what you can tell, but you’re too far to hear. They actually take a while talking, it begins to make you desperate to reach your babies, but you have to wait until the weapons are drawn.

They better be in there though.

You draw out a deep breath and clench your jaw as you watch them through the darkness the stormy clouds cast. It’s not until a few minutes later that finally Ser Jaime draws out his long Valyrian steel sword that you finally can run down.

The sound of his weapon clashing against Greyworms makes you want to help, but you force yourself to just stop behind the carriage. You don’t look at the battle going on ahead, you try and block out the sound and quickly slide off your horse, causing more pain on your lower body. You then proceed to run to the back of the carriage and throw the doors open, but gasp in surprise as you see two Unsullied soldiers sitting there at both sides of a wooden cradle.

“<Princess,>” one of them says.

You meet his black eyes and counter. “<It's Queen now. Let me take them and I’ll spare your lives.>”

The one on the right laughs and then shakes his head. “<We can’t kill you, but you won’t get these babies if you don’t bend the knee to the true Queen.>”

You reach back for your spear and get ready to talk back, but suddenly one Unsullied soldier jumps out of his seat and throws himself on you, making you fall back on the dirt ground harshly.

You let out a groan, but have no time to dwindle in your new pain because he then presses the stick part of his spear against your throat, cutting off your air circulation, and dulling your other senses.

You try to press back, but he’s stronger right now, he’s angry too, adding to his strength. It seems like he's going to best you, but you manage to slip your hand off his spear and instead throw your hand up and stab your fingers in his eye.

The Unsullied soldier doesn't make any noise, but he throws his head back and stays on top of you, adding more weight on your body as he sits down to grab at his wounded eye.

The other Unsullied peeks his head out and notices his injured companion and throws out a curse before he reaches back for his spear. Fuck.

He can’t join this damn fight or you’ll never win. Fuck. Okay.

You look at your side to search for your weapon, but find it too far out of reach. The weapon of the man you just fought is at your feet and he’s sitting on your legs, so you can’t get it. Fuck!

Okay….

Out of desperation to reach your newborn children, you pump yourself with as much fury and adrenaline as you can muster and throw your upper body up to sink your teeth on the soldier's throat. The soldier stiffens, and just as he tries to claw at you, you pull back and yank off a part of his throat with your teeth, causing the other soldier to suddenly stiffen in surprise.

You use that though and push the now dead man off your body to swipe his spear off the floor. You then quickly hurl it at the second soldier’s chest still on the carriage.

Now that they’re both dealt with you push yourself off the ground and stumble towards the carriage. You still hear Greyworm and Jaime fighting ahead, which is impressive that the one handed soldier is holding out so long, but you can’t stop, he told you not to, so you keep ignoring it and climb onto the back that now holds the wooden cradle.

“Rhaenyra. My love,” you mutter out and don’t care about your appearance, or that you’re hurt, you reach them and look in, seeing both of them there, sleeping peacefully as if nothing is happening around them. “I’m here,” you assure them even if they’re sleeping. “I’m here,” you smile. You reach down to pick them up, but just as you do you catch a glimpse of the fight happening ahead, and see Greyworm stab his spear through Jaime’s stomach with a violent blow that knocks the one handed knight right off his feet.

You’re told not to, you’re supposed to just take the twins and leave, but he’s sacrificed so much, he’s been kind and loyal, he’s been a friend surprisingly enough, you can’t help your heart from sinking and your feet from taking you to him bleeding out on the ground.

“Ser Jaime,” you whisper and cradle his face to turn it towards you. “I can still help you. Just…don’t take the blade off.”

The man swallows thickly and shakes his head. “No,” he grunts. “No...Princess,” he mutters. “My time here is done. I…tried to keep my promise now. Just go.”

Tears wells your eyes and you regardlessly press on his wound to stop the blood from trickling down. “No…you have to see your brother. He’ll be waiting. You have to live and…and still watch over me. That’s an order.”

He scoffs and then coughs out blood. “Tell my brother…” he trails off and continues to cough out more blood, darker this time. “Tell him that I love him…that no matter what I will always look out for him.”

You nod even if you don’t want to accept his death.

“And you…” he continues and cups your hand with his gloved one. “It was an honor serving you…Queen. Your mother would be proud…of the women you are…don’t let her down okay? I’m sorry…I couldn’t protect her, or you. I’m sorry.”

You whimper and shake your head. “I forgive you. It’s thanks to you that I found my children. You did good…it was an honor having you as my protector.”

The corner of his lips tug up slightly, causing blood to begin trickling out from the corner of his mouth. His breaths begin to go ragged, and his hand falls off your hand and lands on his sword's handle. He then drifts his eyes to it and then points his eyes behind you.

You’re confused at first, but you blink and peer back, understanding now that he’s pointing at Greyworm. He’s telling you to kill him.

Greyworm was kind to Rhaenar without question, he was kind to you. But he ripped your newborn babies out of your arms and took them, he’s not on your side anymore, he’s just another enemy. A causality, and Daenerys only friend now. It’s a message to her from you.

That makes killing him much easier.

Albeit, just as you’re going to reach over for the sword, Greyworm comes over and pulls his spear out of Jaime’s stomach, causing blood to pour out of the wound and only pushing Jaime closer to death. And fueling your anger.

So just as Greyworm is walking back to the carriage you reach over for Ser Jaime’s Valyrian steel sword and clutch it in your hands.

Now usually you prefer spears, they’re lighter, easier to use, but your spear is too far away and well, this blade is better than Greyworm’s spear. It’s actually a lot lighter than you expected Valyrian steel to be too.

“Why do you mourn for a man who stabbed your grandfather in the back, and chose his own reputation over being loyal to you?” Greyworm spats out.

You exhale through your nose and slowly push up the sword from the ground. “That man was no grandfather of mine,” you counter spitefully. “I’m glad that he got stabbed in the back, he deserved far worse. But perhaps I’ll save that for Daenerys.” You snicker.

Greyworm spins around and growls out of anger, only making you smirk as you meet his gaze with a taunting glare.

“I won’t fight you,” Greyworm quickly tells you without letting his anger get the best of him. “It won’t be a fair fight, and the Queen wants you alive.”

You lose your taunting look, and slowly begin to scowl at the man as you remain on your knees with the swords tip nailed against the ground, and the handle in your hand. The blood that was drying on your lips and chin only made your look more intimidating, but he still doesn’t flinch.

“Then you’re a coward,” you spat back. “It’s fine, it'll make this fight easier.” You breathe out and slowly begin to use the sword's weight to push yourself up to your feet.

Greyworm remains collected and actually throws his spear at your feet. You glance at it and sigh deeply in annoyance before you meet his gaze and kick the spear at him. You then raise your chin and point at him as you shift your feet to get in a battle ready stance.

Before he can once again turn you down you charge at him and swing the sword. Greyworm quickly blocks your attack with his blade and then manages to push you back. He then doesn’t falter or turn away, he swings at your stomach, but you slide back. He then counters with another swing, but you throw your head back and avoid the blade.

You proceed to swing at his legs, but he shuffles back and thrashes his arm to the side, letting you quickly throw your arms up and clash the blade against his. You proceed to meet his gaze and shoot him a smirk before you lift your leg and shove him back. You don’t lose your momentum and use all your strength to swing the blade across his chest.

Greyworm however catches your attempts and tries to block them, but in doing so he fails to clash the blade against yours, causing the Valyrian steel sword to cut his wooden spear in half and the tip to cut his cheek.

You’re shocked by your actions, but can’t help but smirk proudly. Whilst Greyworm touches his cut and looks at the coat of blood that stains his fingers, he then blinks and knits his eyebrows together as he looks up at you in surprise.

“<Lucky you,” you throw at him in high Valyrian as you begin to walk back. “You’ll meet your gods today.>” Once you reach the spot where you had fought the other soldiers, you pick up your spear and throw at his feet. “<Lets end this.>” You sneer and twist your blade around your hand.

A faint smirk appears on Greyworms lips before he picks up the spear and lunges forward and swings down. You quickly jump back to avoid being hit, and then counterattack. Greyworm albeit blocks your action and pushes you back.

“<Your ancestor should be proud,” Greyworm throws out in Valyrian as he spins the spear in his hand. “You’ve learned well. You make a mighty warrior.>

You huff out, and then charge at him. Just as you get close you jump off your feet and throw the sword down. Greyworm nevertheless avoids the blade and quickly counters by lunging the spear at your side.

Luckily you twist your body and miss being hit, and before he can pull back you turn your hand around and capture his handle.

Greyworm’s eyes snap at you in surprise, you shoot him a smirk and try to stab him, but he’s stronger than you now so he manages to yank the spear out of your hold.

And just as he steps back suddenly his body jerks up, and he lets out a groan. You falter and watch him in confusion, however you then see the cause of this sudden halt when you notice Ser Jaime on his knees behind Greyworm, and with Greyworm’s own broken spear stabbed through his own back.

How did Jaime muster the strength to get up?

Who knows, but you’re thankful.

So before Greyworm can react, you use both hands to hold the sword and charge at him. You lift the sword in your hand as you approach him, and the moment you get close enough you open your mouth to let out a mighty battle cry as you swing the sword across Greyworm’s neck. And since the blade is sharp and made out of the toughest steel, the blade cuts clean across, cutting his head right off his shoulders. Ending this battle, and causing Jaime to fall back.

You first make sure no one is approaching before you run to Jaime and cup his cheek. “Thank you, Ser Jaime,” you mumble. “You did well.”

Jaime’s eyes begin to flutter close, and his breath begins to slow down. He musters enough strength to grab your hand and add one more thing. “Thank you...” he trails off and his eyes close, his chest rises once more as he takes his final breath, and then it sinks for the last time.

——

*LATER*

The air wasn’t filled with battle cries anymore, there’s no cries of pain, or metal slinging. There’s no fire brightening up the sky red, there’s no dragons flying either. It’s not quiet or calm, but it seems that the battle had come to an end. Actually the castle people say is cursed doesn’t stand as tall as it once did moments ago, there are towers that are missing, walls are gone and turned to rubble and debris.

Where once stood a haunted mighty castle now remains crushed walls, and smoke.

It’s sort of fascinating, in a weird and creepy way.

“Halt right there!”

You rip your eyes away from the ruined castle and see Ser Brienne, Ser May and Ser Marizelizabeth come out of hiding from behind rubble to point their weapons at you.

“It’s okay—”

“My Queen,” Ser Brienne cuts you off right away and doesn’t hesitate to drop on her knee.

“Queen,” The others mutter and mirror their commander's action.

You bring the carriage to halt and offer them a nod. “At ease.”

However, neither of them rise.

“Forgive me your Grace,” Ser Brienne shares with her eyes on the ground. “I failed to keep you safe, they took you because of my incompetence. I understand if you want to remove me from my rank.”

You slide off the carriage and approach Ser Brienne. “It was not your fault. It was no one’s fault,” you assure her and touch her shoulder. “No one could have known. So please don’t blame yourselves, that’s an order.”

The three of them look at you, and Ser Brienne hesitates, but it was an order so she listens and doesn’t press on the matter, instead she and the others stand up and examine you.

“Ser May,” Ser Brienne orders over her shoulder after she caught the blood on your face and on your gown. “Fetch the maester.”

“Wait,” you call out before she can run off. “While you do fetch Jon too. I have something I need to show him.” You smile, but it falters. “He is fine right?”

Brienne nods. “Worried,” she assures you. “That’s all.”

You let out a relieved sigh and nod with a happy grin painted on your face. “Good. Go then.”

Ser May runs off to go as she’s told, letting you now address the problems. “Catch me up,” you direct at the pair of knights as you turn to head to the back of the carriage.

“King Jon,” Ser Brienne doesn’t falter. “He came with an army of men when he heard of your disappearance. While Arya, Sarella, Ser Davos and Lord Royce led the battle on the ground, Jon fought Daenerys in the sky.”

You hum and stop as you reach the doors.

“The battle didn’t last long,” she continues. “We lost some warriors, but they lost more.”

“Good,” you comment.

“It seems Daenerys was injured in battle after her dragon fell from the sky. That’s when the battle on the ground ended because her men retreated. Albeit not before Drogon lay waste on the castle.”

She was injured?

You swallow thickly and find yourself lost between feeling guilt and pride.

“Her dragon was hurt too, badly may I add,” Brienne adds, but you knew that, you saw that as you were chasing after Greyworm—“when they were retreating, King Jon, and your dragon….burned probably a third of her army.”

You blink in surprise and look over at her to share your disbelief. You don’t say anything, you’re just shocked he’d do something like that, especially that Eraxis would dare do something like that without your command.

“Is that all?” You probe and grab the door handles.

Ser Brienne nods, letting you sigh and look at the doors with a faint smile. “Ser Marielizabeth, if you may. May you please ride to the gates of Kings landing and…” you trail off to open the doors and pick up the sack that held Greyworm’s head. “Leave this at the gates for Daenerys,” you continue. “Make sure she gets it and then ride back to Sunspear.”

“Sunspear?” She queries.

You meet her gaze and nod. “Aye. A third of her army is gone, her Master of War is dead, she and her dragon are injured, we can’t return to Winterfell now that we have the advantage. We have to remain close to attack soon and end this war.” You grab the sack and give it to your knight. “Take care, alright?”

She nods and turns away to go get ready, letting you face Ser Brienne with a frown as you see her studying the body covered with a tarp.

“Ser Brienne,” you mutter and grab her hand. “I'm sorry. Ser Jaime….he…He’s passed.”

The tall woman knight drops her head and blinks repeatedly as you know grief and disbelief strikes her heart. She keeps her hand in your grasp and just swallows thickly before meeting your gaze with red eyes as she fought the need to cry.

“It would please me if you took his body and sword to his brother, you can grieve him as you please, and then go to Sunspear with the Hand.”

Brienne shakes her head. “No,” she argues. “I need to stay by your side, protect you. I can’t go, I’ll have someone else go. I can grieve him alone. By your side.”

You draw in a deep breath and hold her gaze for a second as you debate arguing with her. But it is her choice so you sigh and nod. “As you please. Have three Knights of the Queens guard take the body and sword so they can return with Lady Sansa.”

“Y/N?!” Your name is called out as you finish giving Ser Brienne an order, and when you snap your eyes past her body you spot Jon; his face is caked in blood, and his hair is down, he looks exhausted, but he’s a relief to see, he’s the very sun missing from the sky today.

“Jon,” you call out and break away from your spot to run to him.

Said man instantly meets you halfway without a fault and captures you an embrace. “Oh my love,” he whispers. “I was so worried,” he whispers as he holds the back of your head and hugs you tighter.

You laugh softly out of exciment, and pull back to kiss him over the dry blood. He deepens the kiss, and you linger in his taste for a moment before you pull back and grab his chin to study his face for any injuries.

“It’s not my blood,” he assures you and grabs your chin too as he sees the dry blood stained over your lips and chin.

“Not mine,” you mirror.

“Good,” he says and reaches for your belly that hasn’t gone down, but you grab his hand and grin at him. “Come with me. I need to introduce you to a pair of twins.”

Jon’s face quickly twists in confusion, but before he can ask, you pull him to the back of the carriage, and then inside where the cradle is. He’s hesitant to approach, he still looks puzzled, so you beam brighter and reach down to pick them up.

“Jon,” you whisper since Rhaenyra remains asleep, “meet Rhaenyra and your son.” You turn around to show them off, noticing that his eyes are locked on Rhaenyra fast asleep and the boy watching you. He looks surprised, but that slowly falls as the boy begins to complain and squirm.

Jon then approaches you and pulls the sheet down to see their faces.

“They’re okay,” you assure him. “Healthy. They’ve just lived an adventure now. Isn’t that right?” You ask the baby boy. “But you’re here now. With your mother and father.” You peek over at Jon and see that he carries a soft smile that matches his softened eyes that are welled with tears.

“May I hold them?” He asks and meets your gaze.

You giggle and nod. “Of course, my love. Here,” you whisper and carefully hand the twins to him.

Just as you’re going to pull your arms away, Jon stops you. “Wait, I don’t want to drop ‘em. Just—”

“Jon,” you cut him off softly. “It’s okay. You won’t. You won’t.” You very slowly pull your hands away, but keep them close for a second to let him know that he was okay. That they won’t just fall from his hands. “See. It’s okay.”

Jon scoffs, and then looks down at the twins with a lovestruck gaze. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and your mother when you were born. I’m sorry. I’m here now though, I’m never letting you leave my sight.” He laughs softly and meets your gaze with tears rolling down his cheeks. “They’re so beautiful. Rhaenrya, she has your hair.”

You nod and then rest your chin on his shoulder as you watch him with awe. “They both have your eyes. They’re beautiful.”

Jon nods and then presses a kiss on your forehead. “You did good, my brave girl. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, I’m sorry you had to do it alone. Forgive me.”

You shake your head, “there’s nothing to forgive, it’s not your fault. They’re here now, alive and healthy, that's all that matters.”

Jon licks his lips to get ready to argue, but then his name and yours is called out. “Jon? Y/N?!”

It’s Arya. Her footsteps race around the carriage, but once she reaches the back and sees Jon holding two bundles she stiffens and gasps.

Jon and you share a happy look before he motions her to come in. She hesitates but then jumps in and meets her niece and nephew.

“Look at them,” she whispers with awe as she reaches her finger for the boy's hand. “Hi. I’m Arya, your—” she cuts herself off and gasps as the baby boy holds her finger. “I’m your aunt,” she continues with a beaming smile. “Your best aunt.”

Jon laughs softly, and then shares a passing look with you before he looks at the twins and parts his lips to whisper. “Arya, meet Rhaenyra and Robb.” He smiles softly.

.

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Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones fanfiction #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow x reader #jon snow x targaryen!reader #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow fic #jon snow x you #Jon snow fanfic #game of thrones fanfic #got #got fanfiction #daenerys targaryen #Greyworm #tyrion lannister #jaime lannister #ser brienne #sansa stark #arya strak

[valeskafics]

Little Wolf (Chapter Two) - Robb Stark x Twin!Reader [main pairing], Theon Greyjoy x Reader, Jon Snow x Reader

A/N: originally Jaime was a love interest in this but he annoyed me too much in this fic so I had to rework it lol like I don't think a stark would bone the dude who yeeted their little bro out a window lmao

Summary: The Royal Family arrives at Winterfell.

Word Count: 2,065

TW: incest incest incest, profanity, innuendo

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire characters nor do I claim to own them.

Tag List (comment if you wish to be added/removed) bold means it did not allow me to tag you: @tinykryptonitewerewolf @dreaming-for-an-escape @ietss @bitchyglitterfox @caramelcandescence @mikariell95 @aaliyahjovel @aloneatpeace

The noble Starks of Winterfell and their retainers stand in a line, facing the royal family. From left to right stand Bran, Arya (who turned up late, of course), Sansa, Robb, Y/N, Ned, Cat, and Rickon.

Robert, Cersei, their daughter, Princess Myrcella, and their youngest son, Prince Tommen, with Jaime and Joffrey dismounting their horses beside them.

Sansa fans herself at the sight of Joffrey, hoping that perhaps he may see her and wish to be engaged to her instead. Y/N rolls her eyes at Sansa's admiration for the little fool before them. How anyone could find the blond twat attractive is beyond her, so really, it is no sweat off her back if he prefers Sansa to her. In fact, she hopes for it.

He is so short, with straggly blond hair, beady green eyes, and disgustingly pouty lips pulled into a nasty scowl plastered across that smug little face. It disgusts the eldest Stark daughter.

Y/N hopes he finds her ugly, and as such, has chosen her least flattering dress and largest furs. She has not bothered to even plait her hair.

"Don't wet yourself, sister," Y/N mumbles to herself under her breath, not realizing her twin can hear, "I hear he's got a tiny prick."

"Play nice, little wolf," Robb whispers, nudging her playfully.

"Robb, you know I hate it when you call me that," Y/N laughs, elbowing him.

Robb grins, pulling Y/N’s elbow back, making her stumble slightly into his arms, and teasingly whispering in her ear, "That's not what you said last night, little wolf."

Y/N’s cheeks flush just as she makes eye contact with the prince. It is passed off her as being flattered by his lecherous glances, when in reality, she is utterly repulsed. He licks his disgusting lips and grins to himself before looking away.

Y/N and Robb greet King Robert and Queen Cersei, both of whom make thinly veiled references to the impending betrothal.

Robb shoots Y/N a desperate glance. She smiles at him sadly and places a hand on his chest.

"It'll be alright, Robb. It will be," Y/N whispers, letting her voice drop as she looks up through her eyelashes at him, letting her eyes meet his Tully blue, and utters the words which make his heart nearly leap out of his chest, "You know my heart will always belong to you, no matter what. I am yours and you are mine.”

Myrcella introduces herself next, smiling at the thought of a sister joining her family. She blushes when Robb bowed to her, annoying Y/N slightly.

Myrcella moves on and allowed young Tommen, ten years old, a child to Y/N, to approach next, “Hello, Lady Y/N. You are even more beautiful than they say."

Y/N smiles softly and curtsies, impressed at the young boy’s gentle demeanor, thinking to herself how much better off the realm would be if he were heir to the throne, "Thank you, Your Highness."

Joffrey, the sixteen-year-old crowned prince comes next. He eyes Y/N up and down like a lion eyes a gazelle, with insatiable hunger.

"My lady," he speaks softly, kissing her hand, "It is wonderful to meet you. You are truly a beautiful young woman. The tales of your beauty do not do you justice," his eyes trail to her chest.

"Your Highness," Y/N answers politely, raising her eyes to meet his, realizing she must engage in idle flattery as well if she is to make it through this greeting, "You flatter me. I can hardly believe my eyes at how handsome you are."

Robb shoots his twin a glare while Joffrey grins cockily, "You flatter me as well, my lady. I look forward to spending time with you."

"As do I, Your Highness."

"Where's the imp?" Arya questions.

Robb and Y/N chuckle at their youngest sister's impatience.

Sansa is not so amused, "Will you shut up?"

"That's Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer," Arya whispers to Bran, "The queen's twin brother.”

"Would you please shut up?" Sansa snaps.

"Where's the imp?!" Arya demands again impatiently, much to Lady Catelyn and Sansa's chagrin.

"Hush, Arya!" Sansa snaps; the twins sharing a secret laugh at their sisters’ antics.

This seemed to attract Queen Cersei's attention, as she quietly ordered Jaime to find their younger brother, "Where is our brother? Go find the little beast."

As the party moved to go inside, Y/N stumbles slightly over a rock Robb had jealously kicked at Prince Joffrey. As she stumbles, it is Theon who rushes to her aid. Robb's little plan has backfired. He pouts at his twin's flushed expression. She looks adorable, but that look is his! He is her protector, not this !

"Thank you," she breathes, "Theon... I-"

"I will always save you," Theon answers, letting his voice drop to a huskier tone as he met her gaze, "My lady.”

All of the memories from four years past come rushing back, confusing the poor young woman. Why does Theon still have such a hold on her?

Robb pulls Y/N away, fussing over her even more than their mother would when one of their children broke a bone, "Are you hurt, little wolf?" he asks, running a hand through her hair, cupping her face with the other.

Y/N giggles, holding his face in both her hands, "I'm fine, Robb, now let's get inside before our lord father sends me to be the first woman of the Night's Watch out of shame at my clumsiness."

Robb grabs her hand and excuses them as the two take off giggling, oblivious to the world around them. Sansa merely remains in place, smiling softly at her elder brother and sister.

"You won't join them, Sansa?" King Robert questions.

"No, Your Majesty," she responds honestly, in true Stark fashion, "I'd rather stay here and spend time with His Highness."

Joffrey offers his arm and a debonair smile and they are off. He finds the younger Stark girl quite lovely as well, and she is closer to him in age. Perhaps she would be a better match?

Balerion, appears, blocking Joffrey and Sansa's path. Her angry snarl attracts the attention of all those present.

"What is this beast?" Joffrey demands, masking his fear of the creature with disdain.

"She's Y/N’s direwolf, Balerion," Sansa pulls Joffrey away, letting Balerion lick her hand to calm her, "She never really disciplined her, so she tends to bite if she doesn't know you. I'm sure she'll get used to you and grow to love you too! Come see my wolf, Lady, Your Highness. She's very friendly."

"As you wish," Joffrey responds, eyes still on the wolf.

He is frozen in fear. Y/N soon runs back with Robb in tow.

"Sorry, Your Highness! Balerion tends to get anxious around strangers. Come on, girl. Let's go find someone else to bother," she beckons Balerion, "Preferably Robb and Grey Wind!"

Balerion trots up to her and they left Robb in the dust. He laughed and ran after his sister. His love.

As Joffrey watches her run off, her messy hair flying behind her, he realizes how boring the younger Stark girl is.

He wants Y/N.

"Balerion hasn't taken to anyone but Y/N, Your Majesty. She won't allow anyone to touch her but those in our family," Catelyn explains to their honored guests, feeling slightly embarrassed at what just happened.

"She's much like Y/N in that regard," Ned smiles fondly, "Wild and beautiful. A force never meant to be tamed."

“Y/N hardly seems wild," Cersei counters.

"On the contrary, Your Majesty," Cat begrudgingly speaks, "I'd say she's the wildest of my children."

---

"Do you think Joffrey will like me?" Sansa asks Cat, who is busy braiding her and Y/N’s hair for dinner, "What if he thinks I'm ugly?"

"Then he is the stupidest prince that ever lived," Cat responds.

"I thought we already knew that," Y/N mumbles, earning a slap from Sansa.

"He's so handsome," Sansa sighs dreamily, making her mother and sister roll their eyes, "When would we be married? Soon? Or do we have to wait?"

"Hush now," Cat chides, moving on to Y/N’s braid, "Your father hasn't even said yes. Even if he does, your sister would need to be married off first."

"Couldn't we marry on the same day? Like you and Aunt Lysa?" Sansa begins squealing, "That'd be a dream! Don't you think, Y/N?”

Y/N nods unenthusiastically and speaks blandly, "Yes. A dream."

---

At the feast, Y/N sits between young Tommen and Myrcella, much to Robb and Joffrey's dismay.

"Thank you for s-sitting by me, my lady," Tommen grins, a wide toothy smile.

"It is my pleasure, Your Highness-"

"Please," he grins again, “I am just Tommen."

"Alright, Tommen," she smiles, continuing to chat with him and his sister about various topics, but after some time, stands up, gaining the attention of the room, “Mother, why is Jon not inside?"

"A banquet with the king and queen is no place for a bastard, Y/N,” Cat snipes.

"Then why is Jeyne Poole here?" Y/N demands, glaring at Sansa's minion, "She's not family. Jon is."

Ned smiles uncomfortably at his fuming wife and daughter, "Enjoy the festivities, darling."

"He's my brother," Y/N states, pushing her plate away, "I shan't eat unless he eats with us."

"Half brother," Cat primly corrects.

"He's my brother, whether you like it or not, Mother," Y/N hisses, glaring angrily, only being stopped by Robb grabbing her around the waist and Jon, who has quickly made his way from outdoors at Jory's behest, grabbing her arms. 

"It's not worth it, little wolf," Robb murmurs.

She shrugs him off and turns to Jon, "And what do you have to say about this, then?”

"It doesn't bother me, Y/N, I'm used to it. Lady Catelyn is right. I don't belong at the table," Jon whispers.

Y/N begins to speak but is interrupted by her mother, "What does the word of a bastard matter?"

"Say what you will about me," Y/N’s voice drops to a low snarl, "But call Jon a bastard again and I promise I will do everything in my power to bring shame upon this-“

“Y/N, stop this at once, you're embarrassing us," Ned glares, "I apologize for my daughter's rudeness. Y/N, apologize."

"But I've done nothing wrong! What do you have to say Robb?" Y/N asks, holding his hands pleadingly, "Surely you agree with me. You love Jon as I do."

Robb bites his lip before glancing at his mother's stony expression, letting his own match hers, "The royal family shouldn't have to socialize with a bastard, sister. It's best that you apologize to our esteemed guests."

Y/N hisses at him, "You're disgusting," she turns to Robert and Cersei with a sweet smile, "Your Majesties, I deeply and most humbly apologize if I have offended you with my candor. I simply wished for my dearest brother to dine with us so you could get to know him. He's the one I'm closest to out of my family. You see, he understands me more than even my own twin does."

Robb knits his brow furiously and Jon opens his mouth to protest but is interrupted by King Robert, "Oh, let the bastard dine with us. There's no harm in it."

Y/N smiles gratefully and makes space for Jon to sit between her and Myrcella.

"Shouldn't you go back to your seat, brother?" she asks Robb with a satisfied smile as Jon sits beside her.

Robb shoots his twin a hurt look and returns to his seat beside Sansa.

"Thank you, Y/N,” Jon whispers, uncharacteristically shy.

"Of course," she responds, placing her hand in his and shooting her mother a glare.

Soon enough, it is the end of the feast and time for an announcement. The servants and nobles other than the Starks, Lannisters, and Baratheons have cleared the room.

"Well, now is as good a time as any for the announcement," King Robert chortles drunkenly, "We wish to offer Prince Joffrey's hand to Lady Y/N.”

Robb feels his heart stop and glances across the table at Y/N, whose face betrays nothing.

Joffrey has not taken the bait.

He has chosen her over Sansa.

#game of thrones fic #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic #asoiaf #Jon snow #jon snow x reader #robb stark #robb stark x reader #got fic #got fanfic #got #got x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones x you #got x you #game of thrones imagine #got imagine #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #robb stark imagine #Jon snow imagine #Theon x reader #Theon Greyjoy x reader #Theon greyjoy x you #Theon x you #Theon imagine #my writing #little wolf fic

[fandomregression]

I saw you do cg! eliase headcanon & as much as i ADORE little!jon (seriously he's my fav)

i was wondering if you could do some caregiver !jon headcanons ?

Caregiver Jon Sims Headcanons!

so, jon likes to think he's a very calm, cool, collected cg. he has Activities planned, okay. he has a menu of all the different snacks and meal options that he knows his regressor likes, and he movies picked out, he knows what episodes of what shows are his regressors faves. he thinks he is the most Perfect cg

jon is not calm, cool, OR collected in any sense of the word

he is very excitable, and he often ends up being very emotional and loud. this can cause a few problems, because he will get loud and difficult to be around, and he has on more than one occasion accidentally made his regressor cry

he always apologizes profusely and will do anything in his power to right that injustice

jon also believes in the power of Blanket Burritos. little one is fussy and won't settle down? yelling? tantrum? well, it is time for the Blanket Burrito! just wrap em up in a blankie and set em on the sofa, time for movie night!

jon knows the names of all his regressor's stuffies, and he knows who is friends, enemies, family, and he knows aaaaaaall the drama surrounding his regressor's toys. there might be teddy bear murderers amongst the group, and he will always remember!

he is very attentive. he notices all the signs of his regressor slipping, or getting fussy, or needing a certain level of attention. the only problem is he doesnt always...know how to respond to that. in theory, he knows how to help his regressor slip, but in practice its not always that easy. and he knows what kind of attention/affection his regressor likes, but actually providing it can be awkward or difficult

(its the tism)

trips to the library!! he loves using trips to the library as a reward for good behavior! always holding their hand, leading them around to look at the books, and when they get home he will read the new books to his baby!

is a short king, so unfortunately he sometimes needs to have his regressor reach things for him. this is embarrassing for him and amusing for his regressor

loves being referred to as dada it makes him feel very important, and the first time his regressor calls him dada he actually cries

uses nicknames like "little one" "dearest" and "darling" the most

alskfjajzjfjva i don't have a ton of cg jon headcanons because its actually a bit difficult to think of jon as anything other than a tiny baby slxkfkakxskxkfjvak

#fandom agere #age regression #sfw agere #🧸headcanons #tma agere #cg jon