location: robb’s camp with: @youngeir​ from: eddard

“it is good to see the norrey standing with winterfell,” ned said as a greeting to young brandon. his lannister guard had actually seemed uneasy to move further into the camp, and too afraid to stir anything up, let him roam free upon his honor that he would return when his dealings were done.

ned simply told them to march on. he would return to king’s landing. in their eyes: to see his daughter wed. in his eyes: to free his daughter from a life of the seven hells his wife spoke of so often.

“how fares your father?” 

location: robb’s camp with: @vargher​ from: dad but in black

already they dress me like a crow, ned thought as he walked towards robb’s camp. his contingent of lannister guards followed behind him, more like neutered pups than lions. when he saw his son, he embraced him, that hug holding more than his words ever could.

“gods, my boy has become a man. i heard of your victory against tywin lannister. that was bold.”

ned smiled. “and smart.” with a creeping glance at his captors behind him, he squeezed robb’s shoulder. “before i go north to jon and the watch, do you have a plan to get your sisters back?” ned would not worry about himself. his children were more important.

location: king’s landing time: sometime before the wedding with: @gentlewlf​​ from: pop

his hands shake as he looks at her. he is garbed in black. at his daughter’s wedding. tears threaten his grey eyes, but they do not fall. she is beautiful. that is certain, and he loves her. that is more certain. but he did not want this. knowing what he knew of the bastard king, joffrey, he did not want her to go. could he steal her away? find a way for her to — ?

this had been his dream for the past week now, and he was leaving soon to meet robb before he would travel north. he wasn’t sure if he would travel north. the exchange still needed to happen, and ned wasn’t sure he wanted to go to the wall until he absolutely had to. he wanted to keep robb safe.

jon... would be okay.

at least they let him see sansa.

“he hasn’t hurt you, has he?” foolish question, ned. joffrey’s very presence hurts her. his very existence.

location: winterfell time: before leaving for king’s landing with: @vargher​ from: dear ole dad

he is too young. gods, he is too young to be ruling in my stead. and yet, ned had only been a few years older when he’d gone to war at robert’s behest. he was angry. angry that lyanna had gone. angry that his father and brother were gone. angry. angry and young. he hoped robb would never be that.

gods only knew the consequences of that.

“you’re too old for me to tell you to listen to your mother, but... well, you will need to listen to your mother. you must also be strong, robb.” ned placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. then, his cheek. “i should tell you not to write to me. to be strong and sure of your decisions as you make them. but i am selfish. write to me all you wish. your words will be a comfort to me when i am south.”

location: winterfell time: one year before traveling south with: @bloodofsalt​ from: eddard

ned sat with the younger man, looking over at him. theon was far more than a ward. or even a prisoner. the boy felt like an extension of his own children, and judging by the way theon and robb were thick as thieves, well. how could ned not welcome him?

as robb trained and sparred with ser jory cassel at the demand of rodrik, ned sat next to theon, quiet and pensive for a moment before turning to theon.

“robb will need you, you know. he trusts you, and you trust him. the iron islands and the north have one thing in common. they are not easy to govern. you will both need each other when your father and i are gone.”

location: dorne with: @allyriun​ from: daenerys

“it is not the first time i have been under someone’s hospitality. master illyrio often housed me and my brother, seemingly without expectation. however, and i have spoken with ser jorah about this too, i do not assume. i know the dornish do not do this out of the kindness of their heart.”

dany looked up at rook, violet eyes stony and determined. “i know what i am. i am a girl, and i would be a queen. i will take back my birthright, and i will do better than my forebears. but what will the dornish want? they have their freedoms. prince doran is just that. a prince. in his own right. am i a vehicle for revenge?”

“oh, i am plagued with endless thoughts of nefarious and shady dealings. if only my mind would quiet for a moment.”

location: dorne time: not long after arrival with: @yoanders from: daenerys

“how do you find westeros, so far?” daenerys asked, patting the cheek of the young essosi girl as she ran off back to her mother. freedom looked beautiful on these people.

she turned to yoander and gave the man a small smile, hoping to soothe him. she knew the dothraki were not fond of the raging sea. jorah had once told her, the dothraki fear any water their horses can't drink. the narrow sea counted as that. though, the transportation of their horses had not been so hard. not when there were so few of drogo’s left.

“you did not get too sick on our travels?” hopeful. she hoped he hadn’t.

º   .   ♔   ⸻   the capital of king’s landing welcomes EDDARD STARK of HOUSE STARK, the FORMER RULING LORD of THE NORTH. news borne by a raven sends word that she bears a resemblance to VIGGO MORTENSEN. the  FORTY SEVEN year old CIS MAN is reputed to be LOYAL and HONEST, but with the eyes of court watching their every move, they might turn out to be COLD and JUDGEMENTAL. when songs are sung, their verses speak of  whispers of promises fulfilled, fists clenched and mouth silent, & chapped winter lips turned down into a frown. whispers throughout the seven kingdoms claim that their allegiance lies with HOUSE STARK, where they conspire to DETHRONE THE BASTARD JOFFREY. but in the end fealty means little when you play the game of thrones.

eddard stark cannot remember much of his childhood. he did not think he would have to. he remembers bits and pieces. he remembers his father teaching him how to hold a sword. he remembers his mother placing kisses on his forehead. he remembers sneaking over the walls of winterfell with lyanna and benjen only to get caught by brandon and dragged back kicking and laughing. he had been a child once, not so stoic as he turned out to be. as he grew up, the burden of being a stark began to set in, and he became the stoic stark he was always meant to be. eventually he started discouraging his sister from her wildness, something she never seemed to get over. then again, she was only a girl. and when he was old enough, he went to the eyrie, and he met lord robert baratheon, a man who would become his best friend. though, he never forgot his siblings in the north and often wrote to them, lyanna especially.

at the tourney at harrenhal, he met howland reed and ashara dayne, the latter being the first woman he ever loved. he even told brandon he would marry her one day, which resulted in brandon laughing at him. but then, a year after being crowned the queen of love and beauty, lyanna was “taken”. ned’s father, rickard, and brandon went to demand her return, only to be rewarded with wildfire. their ashes were all that remained. then, the rebellion began, and robert took the helm under jon arryn’s leadership. after the battle of the trident and the death of rhaegar targaryen, ned went in search for his sister. he found her. and he found her dying with a babe swaddled in her arms. promise me… promise me, ned. he took the babe and claimed him as his own, much to his new wife’s ire. 

with catelyn, though, he was happy. together, they had robb, sansa, arya, bran, and rickon. he was happy in the north, as happy as a man who’d lost his entire family could be. his father, brother, sister, and mother were all gone, and ned couldn’t even keep benjen, watching him do his duty to the north at the wall. little did ned know, he would be there soon. it all began when robert baratheon traveled north to ask him to be the hand of the king. his wife had convinced him: the cup has passed, and you must drink from it, like it or not. and so ned went south. he went south, and he discovered more than he wanted to. joffrey baratheon was not a baratheon at all but a lannister. 

from there, robert dies, and ned thinks there is safety in the law. however, littlefinger and cersei lannister have more in store for him. what would have been an execution for “betrayal” turns into taking the black, and ned feels the weight of the night’s watch on his shoulders. would all of house stark be banished to the freezing north? he wishes he’d never agreed to come south. never agreed to marry sansa to joffrey. starks should never go past the neck. it always seemed to end poorly.

º   .   ♔   ⸻   the capital of king’s landing welcomes DAENERYS STORMBORN of HOUSE TARGARYEN, the  PRESUMPTIVE QUEEN of THE SEVEN KINGDOMS DRAGONSTONE. news  borne by a raven sends word that she bears a resemblance to FREYA ALLAN. the TWENTY FIVE year old CIS WOMAN is reputed to be DETERMINED and JUST, but with the eyes of court watching their every move, they might turn out to be STUBBORN and SELF CRITICAL. when songs are sung, their verses speak of silver hair braided intricately down a straight back, flames licking a clenched fists, & fire and blood reflected in violet eyes. whispers throughout the seven kingdoms claim that their allegiance lies with HOUSE TARGARYEN, where they conspire to CLAIM THE IRON THRONE. but in the end fealty means little when you play the game of thrones.

dany’s history is a tragic one, born to rhaella targaryen and the mad king, aerys targaryen ii. her birth came on a stormy night as the waves crashed on the rocks at dragonstone. her mother held her for only a moment before the maester’s took her quiet form away. ser willem darry spirited dany and her brother, viserys, away to the free cities, and he found them a home in braavos, a home that daenerys would remember, the house with the big red door and the lemon tree outside. she remembers it fondly, most of her memories involving viserys telling her stories of the targaryen bloodline and buying her little trinkets to play with as she grew. though when ser darry died, that left viserys to take up the mantle of their protection. this caused viserys’ descent into madness.

after some time in exile, dany was eventually married off to khal drogo. she took to life in the khalasar with ease, thanks to jorah mormont, the bear knight who would advise her, even into the budding queenship she felt on the precipice of her future. with this, she began to break away from viserys and start to develop what could be called a relationship with khal drogo, though it was more out of survival than love. still, childish wishes would call it love. though as dany grew stronger in her khalasar, viserys grew more unhinged, and dany watched in… pity at the sight of viserys burning under the gold. fire…fire cannot kill a dragon.

after the death of her brother, daenerys became the rightful heir to the seven kingdoms. she traveled with her husband as he went raiding to raise funds for their war march on westeros, but horrified by the brutality, she tried to save as many as she could, but in doing so, she allowed mirri maz duur to poison khal drogo and leave her fate tenuous at best amongst her khalasar. as drogo was made comatose and her son was killed, dany took the remains of the splintered khalasar and united them, building a pyre for her husband and burning him, myrri, and herself. her dragon eggs were nestled amongst the bodies, and from the pyre, her dragons were born. she took her khalasar through the red wastes, but she lost many people. though they found respite in the city of bones, half were lost before they made it to qarth where they were provided shelter and assistance. daenerys does not trust those of qarth, mostly because they refuse to help her reclaim westeros. perhaps with the dornish visiting, she might find her foothold into the west.

“I DON’T WANT TO BE HIS QUEEN,” she heard herself say in a small, thin voice. “PLEASE, PLEASE, VISERYS, I DON’T WANT TO, I WANT TO GO HOME.”

when the fire died at last and the ground became cool enough to walk upon, ser jorah mormont found her amidst the ashes, surrounded by blackened logs and bits of glowing ember and the burnt bones of man and woman and stallion. she was naked, covered with soot, her clothes turned to ash … yet she was unhurt.