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countrymusiclover · 1 year

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32 - Regaining the North

Part 33

Fire Of A Stark

@dragonixfrye

“Arrangement, like what kind?” I asked knitting my brows together trying to figure out what he meant.

Little Finger stepped closer to me noticing that I wasn’t pregnant anymore. He heard the rumor but now it was true that there was a new Lannister heir. “Perhaps a marriage between Robin Lord of the Vale and whatever child you and the kingslayer have created. Say a girl.”

“I didn’t come here to sell off my infant daughter's life, Baelish. I am here to ask for help from the Vale. Now I know that Robin doesn’t know how to rule his own house being that he probably isn’t even the age of ten.” I spat resting one hand on my hip glaringly.

He stepped closer reaching up and messing with some loose strands of my hair making me meet his gaze. “I have learned that knowledge is power, my dear. For example I know that you are the last living dragon in the realm. That makes you valuable and your children even more so.”

“My child isn’t something to gain. She is only a baby. It would be years before she would be of age. Plus I have already made up my mind that I would never betrothe her off.” I stomped away from him, crossing my arms over my chest.

Baelish tapped his chin, stepping closer to me. Sansa warned me before I left that he had a way of words like Tyrion. And if he wanted someone to think he was their friend but then behind their backs he was the enemy then he would do just that. Most people were never that clever enough to figure him out before something happened. "You are right Robin is too young to make his own decisions. Which is why I am the one mostly in charge here. You see I could convince the boy to help his dear cousin or I could convince him to do nothing and let Ramsay Bolton keep the North."

Throwing my head back I scoffed knowing there wasn't much of a choice. Sticking my hand out to him I just sent him a glare. "Fine, I'll consider talking this over with my husband. But first we have to defeat Ramsay."

"Then I will help you." He responded by shaking my hand and walking away to find Robin.

Before he could leave the room I called out needing to know where he stood with my secret. We weren't allies. The only person that used to be an enemy that I now trusted was Jaime. "Are you going to tell the rest of the Seven kingdoms about who I really am or will you keep it a secret?”

“Knowledge is power, Cadence. If it is in my best interest then I might. But you have bigger things to worry about than whether or not I will do something.” He turned around to face me nodding his head in my direction. “Head home, little dragon.”

Doing as he said I climbed back on Joanna flying home. It was a much longer flight than I cared for. Finally returning to the stables I knew that Sansa was waiting for an answer but I didn’t have the energy to talk with her. Opening the door to our chambers I kicked off my boots seeing Jaime was passed out in the bed with Rhaenyra sleeping in his arms. Sitting down on the bed he stirred awake blinking his eyes seeing relief wash over his face. “Lynesse, seven hells. You have made me worried sick.”

“I missed you too, Jaime…I missed our little dragon too.” I whispered down to our still sleeping daughter before he tilted my chin up, capturing my lips with his gently. Leaning into the kiss I climbed into the bed on the other side of him so as to not wake our daughter.

Jaime wrapped his arms around my waist, finally breaking the kiss with me burying my face in the crook of his neck. His green eyes focused on mine where I could see that he hadn’t been sleeping. “So what they say. Are they going to help us?”

“They will…at least that is my hope. Littfinger is tricky with his words where he reminds me of his brother.” I replied, moving one hand up his chest until he intertwined his hand with mine. Jaime wouldn’t tell me until the morning that he had a hard time raising our daughter by himself. Closing my eyes I let myself fall asleep in his arms until the morning sun broke through the windows of our chambers.

Climbing out of the bed I changed into some different clothes entering the hall with Sansa sitting at the dinner table. Carrying little Rhaenyra in my arms she sent me a look. Jaime came in a few seconds later but Jon was nowhere to be found meaning that he had rode to prepare the men for battle. “I talked with Baelish. I think that I convinced him to help but there was a deal we had to make..”

“What kind of deal did he make?” Jaime asked seeing that my gaze had dropped down to our infant daughter and hadn’t left her once.

Shifting around in my seat I locked my eyes with him figuring that he wouldn’t take me seriously. I had told him multiple times that I didn’t want her to be forced into a marriage. Even though it is my life now that doesn’t mean that she should be forced into it like I was. “He wants to marry her to Robin Arryn.” Jaime was a good husband yet I still want her to have more freedom and a choice of what she does with her life.

“You wed her off to help our brother. I thought you said you didn’t want her to be forced into marriage like we have been. Marrying someone like Joffrey or Ramsay.” Sansa sat her fork down, eyeing me with confusion. She was completely right that I was the girl against marriage from the day I met Jaime.

Jaime reached forward resting a hand on my shoulder staring down at our child. He wanted to make sure that no one ever hurt her. “I am the Lord of Casterly Rock. If he isn’t suitable for her then I will put a stop to it when she becomes of age. I promise you, Lynesse.”

The doors opened with a guard informing us with a bow. “My Lord. My Ladies. Jon Snow and his army are ready to fight. Horses have been prepared for you all.” Sansa was on a white horse leaving me and Jaime to ride on brown horses. Holding Rhaenyra in my arms the battle wasn’t going well. Ramsay had a lot more men than we did. Jon and his men we’re getting their asses kicked.

“Cadence, you have to ride back and get Joanna. Ramsay will kill them all.” Sansa begged me looking at me with such a terrified look. She was grabbing her horses reigns tightly telling me she was really nervous.

Whipping my head around I gasped seeing Jon get punched into the mud basically getting stomped on into the ground. “Sansa, I’m not doing it. Dragon fire will mark me as being just like every Targaryen. We have to wait for them to show up.” Moving my gaze back onto the battlefield I gulped feeling nervous about this. Our men we’re getting their assses kicked and killed harshly where I really needed the Knights of the Vale to show up.

“Cadence, please!” Sansa begged me where I started feeling really bad that this would be my fault.

Jaime broke me from my trance calling out to me where Sansa and I both turned our heads seeing a whole army of soldiers riding towards us on horseback. “Lynesse. Sansa!” Slumping my shoulders in relief I released some happy tears seeing Baelish riding up to meet us on his own horse.

“Our deal is still strong, little dragon.” He responded by sending me a half smile on his face watching our army finally manage to beat out Ramsay. Guards had captured him, placing him inside the cells of the castle. Dismounting my horse Jaime walked behind me holding our daughter. I watched his gaze moving around the yard seeing that he hadn’t been back here since King Robert rode here. Moving my gaze up I grinned like a child again feeling so relieved that I was finally home. The Stark banner fell down on the walls of the castle meaning that the Starks were once again the protectors of the North.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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jackoshadows · 1 year

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I read your meta about the contrast between the Jon/Arya relationship and the Sansa/Joffrey one and it made me wonder something. If Jon is the foil to Joffrey then does mean Gendry is redundant, has served his purpose, and GRRM will kill him in the next book since he and Arya have different destinies?

Jon is clearly written as a foil to Joffrey, while Arya is a foil to Sansa in terms of their titles and personalities. Joffrey, the spoiled brat brought up as a prince and future king while Jon, good natured and kind brought up as a bastard. Arya mingling with the small folk, standing up for them against injustice (Mycah and Joffrey) and Sansa, dreaming of being queen and siding with the high born against the small folk. Jon and Arya is what we want their leaders to be and instead Joffrey and Sansa is what we get. And as such Jon/Arya's relationship contrasts with Joffrey and Sansa's.

And it holds significance in terms of Robert, Rhaegar and Lyanna. Robert Baratheon does not know about Gendry, does not care about Gendry. He's one of the numerous bastards that Robert sired. For Robert, Joffrey is his son and future king and he wants for Joffrey what he thinks he should have had with Lyanna. While he sees all Targaryens and Rhaegar's children as dragonspawn deserving of death.

And yet it's Rhaegar's son who thrives and has the unconditional love and support of Arya who mirrors Lyanna in looks and personality. While Joffrey turned out to be a sadistic bully who targets and abuses Sansa. Robert Baratheon is thwarted again.

As for Gendry, I think that Gendry is to Arya what Ygritte is to Jon Snow. They are foreshadowing parallels about the boys and girls Arya and Jon gravitate towards because of their preference for a certain type.

“NO!” Arya and Gendry both said, at the exact same instant. Hot Pie quailed a little. Arya gave Gendry a sideways look. He said it with me, like Jon used to do, back in Winterfell. She missed Jon Snow the most of all her brothers. - Arya, ASoS

“Is it wildfire?” Arya asked Gendry.

“No. This is different. This is . . .”

“. . . magic?” she finished as the Hound edged back. - Arya, ASoS

She punched him. “That’s vile. Would you bed your sister?”

“Longspear’s not your brother.” - Jon, ASoS

“She’s my sister.” Gendry put a heavy hand on the old man’s shoulder, and squeezed. “Leave her be.”

The man turned, spoiling for a quarrel, but when he saw Gendry’s size he thought better of it. “Your sister, is she? What kind of brother are you? I’d never bring no sister of mine to the Peach, that I wouldn’t.” He got up from the bench and moved off muttering, in search of a new friend.

“Why did you say that?” Arya hopped to her feet. “You’re not my brother.”

There's all the comparisons Jon makes about Ygritte and Arya. Gendry is a bastard, same age as Jon and he reminds Arya of Jon while Ygritte reminds Jon of Arya. Tell me, why did GRRM write it this way?

If Jon and Arya's bond is just destined to remain sibling love, why is it the author has both characters compare their love interests to the other? What is the narrative reason behind doing that?

And Gendry is no doubt a love interest for Arya. GRRM writes it almost like a romcom. Them rolling around in the dirt, Gendry ribbing Arya for her dress, that love song sung for them. That scene in the inn when Gendry blushes and leaves. From Gendry's pov it's clear he likes her that way and is jealous when Ned Dayne and Arya are talking to each other and has a chip on his shoulder about being not good enough for a Lady.

[Note: Keep in mind that at this point Gendry is Jon's age. [Edit: @the-king-andthe-lionheart pointed out that Gendry is younger than Jon and Robb by atleast a year] So if one ships Gendrya, remember the age difference between them is the same as with Jon and Arya. And when Gendrya happens Arya is 9/10. So Gendra likes Arya that way when Arya is nearing 10. When Arya meets Jon, she will be 11 or older. Also keep in mind that Sansa/Sandor starts in the books when Sansa is 11/12, when 27 year old Sandor has clearly taken a liking to her]

The Arya and Gendry we get in ACok/ASoS is when Arya is a little kid and does not really understand what's happening with her and Gendry. She treats him as a pack member, is very protective of him (In contrast she sees Jon as her protector) and risks her life for him. Arya parts from Gendry in anger, seeing it as a betrayal that he wants to leave their little pack. By contrast, she's steadfast in her faith in Jon ('Jon will want me even if no one else does'). When we last meet Gendry, he's bitter and angry, no doubt his feelings about Arya feeding into that. And which is why I have no doubt they will meet again, if Arya travels to the Riverlands or otherwise.

A Gendry with an older, wiser Arya - the Arya of the TWoW sample chapter - is no doubt going to be different this time around because Arya is also going to feel a certain way about Gendry. There's going to be an acknowledgment of what was happening between them in ACoK/ASoS. It's going to be a fun, interesting read. If GRRM has changed his mind about Jonrya for whatever reason, then Gendrya is what will happen.

From the little snippets of interviews that GRRM has given here and there, Arya's age seems to be his biggest challenge in terms of a romantic relationship for her, whether with Gendry or Jon. I think there was one interview at a con where he mentions that Arya was still very young when asked about Gendrya. He has also stated that he's just going to ignore their ages and write as he always intended.

Whichever direction he does go, I don't think Gendry is dying. I see him as the new leader of the brotherhood without banners, with no allegiance to any king, helping the smallfolk during the war for the dawn (That should make him attractive to Arya 😉!)

#asks

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winterrose527 · 2 years

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9."It's just me." sansa x ella

Oh my gosh the pure amount & accuracy of these prompts is incredible. This one turned out longer than expected (shocking, I know) and includes not only our precious babies, but the boys as well. I hope you like it!!!

***

There was a knock on the door, a soft one that could only be one person.

Even still, when Myrcella poked her head in she said, “It’s just me.”

“I can see you,” Sansa noted.

“But I lied,” Myrcella said with a sad smile and then opened the door wider.

Sansa’s breath seized for a moment, afraid that Marg or Shireen had come with her, or worse yet Robb or Theon. Worst of all Jon.

She laughed then, through her tears, when Grey Wind ran into her bedroom. It was no surprise he had come with Myrcella, he had always been her constant shadow. He hopped up on the bed, sniffing her cheek and then licking her brow in a way that reminded her off the kisses her Dad would press to her forehead, before going back to the foot of her bed, turning around three times and then plopping down with a sigh, leaning against Lady. Her dog grunted but began cleaning her brother’s ears, which always grossed her out even as she found it sort of sweet.

“That sound,” Myrcella winced, “Lady stop it’s gross.” Both dogs grunted at her as she separated Lady’s tongue from Grey Wind’s ear, “Seriously.”

Sansa couldn’t help but smile as she watched Myrcella try to pull Grey Wind away from Lady. He was devoted to her, but he was also strong and stubborn.

“You’re so like Robb!” Myrcella chided. Finally she rolled her eyes and released Grey Wind. He proved her right when the moment she took to ignoring him, he begged for her attention. Very like Robb indeed, who could hardly stand it when Myrcella wasn’t around. She absently stroked Grey Wind’s ears though, she was all bark and no bite, and focused on Sansa, “I didn’t just come in here to cause chaos.”

Sansa wiped her eyes, “I’m fine.”

Myrcella nodded, “You seem fine.”

“Shut up,” Sansa smiled, but then felt her limp trembling again.

Myrcella reached forward and took her hand, “You can say it. It’s just me. And these two but I think we can swear them to secrecy.”

She didn’t know why Myrcella was asking at all. She knew what the problem was. There was nothing her best friend didn’t know about her, and the other way around too. It was like they could read each other’s minds sometimes.

That’s what Jon said anyway.

Jon.

Sometimes she wished he could read her mind. Other times she was grateful he couldn’t. Like tonight.

If he’d known he would have felt bad. Guilty even. He would be gentle and kind and wrap his arm around her and muss her hair like he did to Arya. Like she was his little sister, like that’s how he would always think of her.

It had always rankled on her, when people said he was a part of the family. Like a brother to her. He wasn’t. People thought she was being a brat when she said that, but she’d understood from a young age that she wanted him to be something separate. She didn’t want him to be like Robb.

She didn’t realize why until she was thirteen and saw Jon sweaty after football practice, his t shirt clinging to him. That sight affected her far more than even the kiss on the lips Joffrey had given her at Myrcella’s birthday party. That was all anyone could talk about, but she’d forgotten it entirely when she saw Jon lift the hem of his t shirt to wipe his sweaty forehead.

She had always found it gross when Robb was sweaty. He liked to chase her around the kitchen, demanding a hug and she would scream, hoping her long legs would save her. They never did though. Jon sweaty though was something different. He looked like a man. A handsome man. And if he’d asked her for a hug she wouldn’t have tried to get away.

That had been two years ago and ever since then things had only gotten worse, because Jon Snow had only gotten dreamier. And just like a dream he was entirely out of reach, no matter how much he occupied her mind.

She looked at Myrcella, “How did you get Robb to see you differently?”

Myrcella and Robb had started dating earlier that year. Robb had never really been the girlfriend type, until she and Myrcella had started high school. All at once, her older brother was the sort to wait outside of Myrcella’s class to walk her to the next, and sit away from the other football players at lunch so that he could try to distract her from studying, and never look at another girl twice.

Her best friend was beautiful, all golden hair and green eyes, but of the two of them she was the one who had grown up more. Everyone said so. Her legs had always been long, but they’d stopped being gangly over last summer. Her boobs were way bigger too. Yet for some reason, Jon still saw her as a little kid.

“That’s different,” Myrcella blushed.

That was true. Robb never pretended to be Myrcella’s brother. When he had been seven and Myrcella had been five, he’d stood up at a dinner with their families and declared his intentions to marry her as soon as they were old enough.

So really, Robb hadn’t needed to see her differently. He’d been waiting for her all along.

“She’s pretty,” Sansa mused.

Myrcella wrinkled her nose, “I guess. She’s awful though. I don’t know what he sees in her. I told him so.”

Sansa couldn’t help but laugh, “How did he take it?”

Her laugh turned hysterical when Myrcella did her eerily good impression of Jon, all low voice and grumbling uhhs.

“You don’t have to like her, I have to,” she quoted Jon and then went on, “So I asked well, do you? That shut him up real quick.” Myrcella rolled her eyes, “It’s just because she’s 19 and experienced. She’s so vulgar though, it’s like talking to Theon. Anyway, she’s not the problem. He is. He’s convinced you’re too good for him, which like – look I get it because you’re too good for practically everybody, but he’s being such an idiot about it. Like oh poor me the girl of my dreams is in love with me, give me a break. Have some real problems, Jon. I dare you.”

Myrcella always knew how to make her feel better, and it was good to hear him taken down a peg. He loomed so large in her eyes, sometimes she forgot he was just a stupid boy half the time. She pushed a groaning Grey Wind out of the way and leaned her cheek against Myrcella’s leg. She felt her friend’s hands stroke her hair gently, petting her as she would one of the dogs.

“I think you’re going to have to tell him,” Myrcella told her gently. “I know that’s sort of scary, but he does want to be with you.”

Sansa wondered, “Wouldn’t that make me a homewrecker?”

“Honey they’re not a home, they’re a rent by the hour hotel,” Myrcella offered. Sansa cackled and Myrcella admitted, “Uncle Tyrion said that once.” She sighed and Myrcella rubbed her arm, “I think-“

Before Myrcella could tell her anything else, there was a loud series of knocks on the door, that could only be one person.

A moment later, Robb’s head poked in the door and he glared accusingly at them, “There you two are!”

“Awwww did you miss us baby?” Myrcella teased. “Did you have to talk to your other guests? How terrible.”

“It was terrible,” Robb agreed, coming over and plopping down on the bed, leaning his head on Myrcella’s other leg. He grabbed Myrcella’s hand and brought it to his head, and she watched Myrcella roll her eyes but start scratching it anyway. “I have gossip.”

“We like gossip,” Myrcella confirmed.

“Jon is downstairs breaking up with her,” Robb informed them and her heart leapt. Her brother mistook Myrcella’s smile and said, “I know, you won.”

“Actually I think Jon is the winner if he’s getting out of that relationship,” Myrcella remarked. “Maybe now he’ll have a good long think.”

“Wouldn’t count on it,” Robb suggested and they both laughed. “We need to find him a nice girl. Someone pretty and smart.”

“Oh, where would we ever find a girl like that?” Myrcella wondered.

Robb’s hand felt her arm and then up to her face, tweaking her nose, “Found one.”

“You told him?” she asked Myrcella.

“I’m her boyfriend, the love of her life, the future father of her children,” Robb determined with as much conviction at seventeen as he’d had at seven. “She tells me everything.”

“Two of those things are true,” Myrcella agreed.

“Which two?” Robb asked.

“Hmm?” Myrcella teased, giggling and swatting his hand away from her.

She wondered if they were right. She wondered if Jon and her would ever have what they had. That love that was so easy and natural without tempering its fierceness.

Before she could ask Robb whether she thought Jon liked her back, there was one solemn knock on the door, that could only be one person.

A moment later Jon opened the door, “Sansa can I come in? I need to talk to you.”

“We need to talk to you too,” Robb answered.

Jon startled, looking at the five of them on the bed, “I uh… thought you and Myrcella were making out somewhere.”

“That does sound like us,” Myrcella mused, “How about it, baby?”

“Fine, twist my arm, I’ll make out with my beautiful girlfriend,” Robb grumbled, sitting up.

He got off the bed and Sansa sat up just in time for Robb to grab Myrcella and throw her over his shoulder. Myrcella didn’t even let out an oof, she was so used to this treatment, but over Robb’s shoulder, hidden from Jon she mouthed tell him and then love you, before smacking Robb on the butt.

She closed the door behind them and then it was just her and Jon and the dogs.

“You can come sit,” she told him, picking at a thread on her pale blue bedspread.

Jon smoothed his hands on his jeans and walked over. He sat down, looking around her room and smiling. He told her once that it was the girliest place he’d ever been, but he didn’t say it like it was a bad thing, like so many boys would have.

“I uh need to talk to you,” he told her, “But um… I don’t want things to be weird.”

She felt her heart beating wildly in her chest but she said, “They won’t be weird. Promise.”

He nodded, smiling sheepishly and scratching his cheek, “I’m a little nervous to be honest.”

She reached over and took his hand. He looked down at it in surprise, before intertwining their fingers, his warm grey eyes looking into hers.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” she promised, smiling gently back at him, “It’s just me.”

#sansa and myrcella #the besties we desrve #fanfiction #modern au #jonsa #robbcella #caity caity ..... caity

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fromtheboundlesssea · 2 years

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🔥 Becoming Elizabeth vs. real life history

What we know historically is that Elizabeth was very uncomfortable with Thomas Seymour’s advances. To the point where she would wake up early to get dressed so he wouldn’t come into her room where she was in her night clothes. She never saw him after Catherine’s deaths and there was no way she would have slept with him after she just had a pregnancy scare.

There was no need for a gratuitous sex scene to show that she was uncomfortable at the end. It could be accomplished without the sex scene.

While the actress is doing a wonderful job, we all should have known she was going to do a sex scene because they casted an older actress instead of a fifteen year old.

Think about how Game of Thrones had to actively rewrite scenes from ASOIAF for Sansa because there were not going to have an underage actress get molested on screen by their middle age costar (because Tyrion does molest Sansa in the books and she is molested by Pycell which is not shown in the show at all) she is basically stripped naked by the kingsguard as well instead of the back of her dress being ripped. That was written in the text and they didn’t do it.

Now, if Sophie Turner had been of age when those scenes were shot… I have no doubt in my mind that they would have made her do all of that.

Historically, there is no evidence that Seymour and Elizabeth EVER had sex. What we have is evidence of her feeling uncomfortable with his attention. But because they casted an actress who was above the legal age, I have no doubt they felt like they could get away with more despite the story they want to be telling.

If they had casted a fourteen or fifteen year old actress, we probably would have gotten a more accurate portrayal of Elizabeth or at the very least we would have been able to live our lives without seeing her having sex with her abuser.

#keep the asks coming #becoming elizabeth

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anxiouspotatorants · 3 years

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It kind of looks like every single/unhappily married female character (and some male characters) has at some point been shipped with Willas Tyrell.... I’m kind of here for it though

#like we haven’t even technically met him yet #but he still sounds like one of the very few genuinely nice men in Westeros #I’m personally an Arianne x Willas gal #but I wouldn’t mind seeing him with an AGED UP Sansa #willas tyrell #arianne x willas #arianne martell #asoiaf #sansa x willas #oberyn x willas

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the-dendrophile-bookdragon · 2 years

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Caged

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!reader Warning: period typical misogyny, angst, fluff, talk of death of child

You were shielded away all your life. Always kept behind the wall of the Red Keep. As a child you ran around the gardens exploring it. You could remember you were never bored. But now you grew up. You nearly read all the books available to you. You knew every corner of the palace and garden. Often you tried to escape from the walls of the castle but were stopped by your uncle or Sir Clegane. The later gave you the creeps.

When the news came that you would travel to the North you were ecstatic. Your mother scolded you to calm down. But you couldn’t. Your excitement was crushed when your mother told you that your dear lord father was to marry you to the highest bidder. With this in mind your mood changed drastically. Your cheery mood became sombre.

The day you dreaded the most came and you travelled up into the North. You sat in the carriage with your mother and younger siblings. Joffrey was a prick as always. He tormented you calling you all sort of names. Your mother ignored you both, too focused on her wine.

Often you would ask your uncle Jamie if you could ride on the horse with him. He only smiled and told you it’s not suited for a lady. You nodded and slumped back into your seat.

At the same time Robb trained with his friend Theon and half-brother Jon in the courtyard. He was especially aggressive which wasn’t unnoticed by his companions. As Robb landed yet another hard blow to Jon’s sword the black-haired boy stumbled back. He threw up his arms, still holding his sword, “What is wrong with you today?” The young wolf huffed, a dark look on his face, “Father told me something he kept from me my whole life. Something I should have had the knowledge about. Not only is the king coming what you all know. But also his family. More important, my betrothed. The princess Y/N.”

Both males began to smirk. Theon came over to his friend and clapped him on the shoulder, “Well no more visits to the brothel, my friend. You are as good as a married man.”

Jon shook his head, “So you are to marry the oldest daughter of the king while Sansa is to become the Queen of Westeros?” Robb nodded. Jon took his brothers sword and shook him out of his thoughts, “Let’s get cleaned up, or lady Caitlyn will have our heads.” Robb grinned at the imagine of his mother scolding them as if they were children.

The next morning the whole court of Winterfell was in uproar. The King and his family where sighted not far from here. Maids were running around. The stable boys cleaned the stables a third time. Robb walked into the Great Hall and was greeted by his mother ordering people around. He stepped next to her and kissed her cheek, “Good morning, mother. I see you are doing the last preparations for tonight’s feast.” Caitlyn sighted, “Everything has to be perfect. We don’t want to make a bad expression. Specifically for your bride. She has to know she is welcomed hear in this court.”

The young wolf nodded. “Mother, why does no one know about her and why did father only tell me today about our betrothal?” His mother looked at him with loving eyes, “She was kept hidden for the reason that she wouldn’t become a pawn in a cruel play. It was always intended that if House Stark and House Baratheon had male and female offspring around the same age they were to be married. After the crown prince, your betrothed twin, died tragically the king decided to keep her a secret. Telling everyone she died with her brother. She would have been a target for a lot of houses if she was the oldest daughter and the only heir. Thank the gods for prince Joffrey. Now change into your festive garb and tell your father’s bastard to stay away.” Robb nodded before leaving to do as he was asked.

The carriage came to a stop. You sighted and looked out. People were standing there waiting for you to exit your carriage. As the door opened you wanted to stand up before being pushed back by the little brat of your brother. “Future king before anyone else.” You only rolled your eyes.

All eyes were on you as you entered the yard. Whispers could be heard. You felt uncomfortable as every gaze was on you. Your fathers boisterous laugh brought you out of your paranoia. He waved you over, “And this is my beautiful daughter, Y/N. She is my most prized possession.” You looked at lord Stark and smiled shyly before fixing your gaze downwards to your feet. Your father went on to inspect Winterfell with lord Stark.

A woman in your mothers age stepped forward and bowed before you, “My name is lady Caitlyn Stark. And these are my children.” She introduced them to you one by one before pointing to a man with auburn locks. He had a soft smile on his lips and kind blue eyes, “And this is my eldest, Robb. Your betrothed.” Your eyes went back to the ground. Your cheeks became warm. There was an unusual feeling in the pit of your stomach.

After your father declared that he wanted to feast, lord Stark moved you and your family to his great hall were the feast was prepared. You were seated next to Robb. No conversation flew between the pair of you. But no one really cared.

Robb had enough of the silence. He wanted to know you before he married you. “What do you do over the day, my lady?” Your shocked eyes met his curious once. You could get lost in those you thought. You snapped out of your trance and told him about yourself. He smiled at you and laughed when you told something funny. “Now I have spoken a lot about myself, what my septa would chide me for. For it’s not proper.” Robb smiled warmly down at you, “I do not share this few with her. I want to know the person I will be married by tomorrow. I asked you to do so. Do not hold yourself back.”

He then told you about himself and what he would do in his free time. You felt the freedom from his stories. Your eyes lost their shine, stopping Robb from talking. “Everything alight?” You smiled sadly, “Maybe I am finally free after I married you, lord. But you have to show me what freedom is, for I have forgotten all about it.” Robb smiled sadly at you. He took your hand in his big one and softly kissed the back of it. “I will help you with your path. Your burden is now my burden too. My freedom shall be your freedom.”

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#robb stark x you #robb stark imagine #robb stark x y/n #robb stark x reader #robb stark

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kingsansa · 2 years

Note

Prompt : Anything from Workplace casual but from Jon's POV?

homemade dynamite

word count: 734

tags: first meetings, age difference (if you squint,) mentions of hooking up, prequel to this fic

Her first name is Sansa and he doesn’t know her last name, which is perfectly fine because you don’t need someone’s last name to sleep with them.

Jon is 78% sure he’s gonna sleep with her.

87.

88?

He’s trying his best not to think about it.

But it’s half past 11, and two hours ago it was just supposed to be one drink, and one drink turned to two and two drinks turned into Sansa No-Last-Name sitting on the stool next to him with her leg pressed up against his, and her lip gloss shining underneath the shitty light fixtures, and her sunny blue eyes on his mouth, and he’s finding it hard to think about anything else.

She’s everything he usually tends to avoid.

A polished, immaculate, expensive sort of pretty—gorgeous, even. Thick red hair, shimmery eyelids, and a mouth that sort of punches you clean through the chest when you see it. 14 karat gold drapes around her neck, hangs from ears, winds around her fingers, which are of course, manicured. The soles of her heels are red. Her handbag, she tells him, is way too expensive to sit on the floor. Daddy’s money? Mommy’s money? Who knows. But he’s willing to bet there’s a trust fund she was granted access too as soon as she turned 25.

She’s 26. He asked.

He shouldn’t have.

If Sansa minded, she didn’t say, though she did blush—and did so in such an annoyingly attractive way that he went from 30% to 40% in the span of a minute—and the question was really just a drop in the ocean of their conversation, anyway. She talks a lot, but in an endearing sort of way, about anything and everything. A nervous habit, he suspects. It’s cute, though. She’s cute.

She ordered a Manhattan when she sat down next to him. Extra cherries on the side.

She’s really, really cute.

He wishes that’s all she was. It’d be easier to leave whatever the fuck this is alone.

The strap of her little black dress keeps slipping down her shoulder, and she keeps having to drag it up—she’s not wearing a bra. She plays with the stems of her cherries after she eats them, ties three of them into a knot with just her tongue. She orders two shot with identical dollops of whipped cream, laps at the inside of the glass before she knocks them back one at a time, long white throat moving against the intrusion and fuck, fuck—

Jon didn’t even know he was into that sort of thing.

When she dabbed at her lip gloss after, smudging it back into place, all he could think about was everything else he could mess up about her, every thing he could do to her. Every single thing.

And now, she’s got another one of those goddamn cherries in her mouth.

Her thumb is covered in juice; she’s neared the bottom of the bowl. She wraps her lips around the very tip, sucking—

“You wanna grab coffee with me?” He blurts.

Her eyes meet his. Her thumb leaves her mouth. Pink floods her cheeks and he’s once again struck with the urge to mess her up, to make her break a sweat, to ruin her—

“Coffee?” She repeats, intoned with bemusement.

“Yeah.” He licks his lips. “Coffee.”

One cup. Maybe two. However many it would take to stop wanting her. She’d sober up too. After all, he got her tipsy by buying her all these drinks, the least he could do was make sure she was well enough to get home okay. Then he’d take her home—no, he’d call her an Uber. He wouldn’t wanna give her the wrong idea.

Looking at her now, though, he suspects she has it anyway.

First, she’s staring at his mouth, then she’s staring at him. She presses her lips thin, like she’s trying not to smile. Like she knows exactly what he’s doing right now—trying to be a good person—just like she knows it isn’t gonna work.

He’s already coming to terms with that.

The curve of her smile is so sweet it’s almost hard to believe that it’s sly. “I know somewhere we can go,”

Underneath the bar, she places her slender hand on his knee.

Against his better judgement, Jon drains the remaining contents of his glass. Then he grabs her coat to help her put it on.

#ficlet #workplace casual #jonsa #Jon x sansa

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secretlyatargaryen · 3 years

Note

Another thing I've been wanting to ask you is something I avoid talking about because I'm afraid to be misinterpreted because of my english but I often see this "Tyrion is selfish for helping the Lannisters stay in power" take and I don't really agree with it. He's in the Lannister side but I think he's sort of a "prisoner" of the Lannisters (like Dany was to Viserys). I guess we could say the same about Jaime and Cersei but Tyrion clearly is a lot less selfish than his siblings. Am I wrong?

No, you are exactly right, and once again it comes down to people not understanding or being unwilling to understand abuse. Especially there's an issue of people being unwilling to sympathize with adult victims of abusive parents, because our society says adults should be independent. This is even more of a problem with disabled adults who rely on family members for survival and basic needs. Financial abuse is a thing, emotional abuse is a thing.

Tyrion literally spells this out to Jon in his famous speech at the beginning:

Had I been born a peasant, they might have left me out to die, or sold me to some slaver’s grotesquerie. Alas, I was born a Lannister of Casterly Rock, and the grotesqueries are all the poorer. Things are expected of me. My father was the Hand of the King for twenty years. My brother later killed that very same king, as it turns out, but life is full of these little ironies. My sister married the new king and my repulsive nephew will be king after him. I must do my part for the honor of my House, wouldn’t you agree?

Tyrion says that he's expected to do his part for the honor of his house because if he didn't, he might be dead or enslaved. Now, this is part of the lie Tywin made him believe about himself to keep him under control, because abuse is about control. Tyrion believes that he would have a low quality of life if it weren't for Tywin and House Lannister, he believes that no one would ever truly love him so he owes his loyalty (and his mind, as he later says in the part I didn't quote) to House Lannister.

Later, when Tyrion meets Penny, her existence will challenge that lie, that it's not possible for someone like him to have a happy and fulfilled life without House Lannister. But Tyrion believes this because he's been conditioned to believe it. This is why it's often so hard to leave an abuser, because they make you think you need them.

I'd also agree with you that Tyrion does see himself in a way as a sort of prisoner, and this is true from what he says to Sansa, who is a literal prisoner of the Lannisters.

"I only want to be loyal."

"Loyal," the dwarf mused, "and far from any Lannisters. I can scarce blame you for that. When I was your age, I wanted the same thing." He smiled.

I think it says a lot here that the conversation is specifically about loyalty. We know that Sansa's claim of loyalty to the Lannisters is false, and she's being forced to lie to protect herself from abuse. Her situation is not the same as Tyrion's, of course, but it's one he understands on a pretty deep level.

I've often said that the difference is that Sansa has a loving family to go back to. For Tyrion, this is just how his life is. Which is why he's more accepting of it. Up until he learns the truth about Tysha, and all the lies fall away, and he confronts Tywin with not just Tysha but everything he did:

"One simple question, you owe me that much."

"I owe you nothing."

"You've given me less than that, all my life."

To say that Tyrion is selfish for not going against his abuser sooner is to completely fail to understand how abuse works.

#tyrion lannister #tywin lannister #abuse cw #asoiaf meta #valyrian scrolls #house lannister

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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

There Are No Wolves In the Desert

( Oberyn Martell x f!reader, Robb Stark x f!reader)

Part 1 - The Wolf and The Outsider

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Summary: The series of events that have lead to you being in Dorne and why you can never return home.

Authors notes: Oberyn is not in this chapter but he will be in all subsequent chapters! This part is mainly context corner to build up the character! The reader is a distant relative of the Targaryens but I only mention hair colour and eye colour everything else will remain non- descript! Let me know if you want to be tagged (or untagged) in this story 😊😊

Tw: Swearing, violence, mentions of and allusion to sex (none depicted), war, murder the usual GOT stuff, major character death (I wonder who it could be👀👀)

Word count: 5.7k

Tagged: @evyiione

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Kings landing

Cersei tilts her head, eyes thinning as she gazes out over kings landing, the moon illuminating the gold plated roofs of the upper class, the stench of the poor unable to reach her here. Jamie sits on the bed she had shared with her late husband, slowly re-donning the white armour of the king's guard. He turns watching as the summer breeze blows the ends of her golden hair. His shin guard is clipped into place just as three short knocks sound out against the wooden door, filling the quiet air of the night. Sighing loudly Jamie stands up to answer the door, a smile forming on Cersei’s lips as she trunks to greet the visitor.

“Littlefinger, to what do we owe the displeasure,” Jamie asks, sarcasm dripping off every word.

“Funny… I thought knights usually waited outside the bedchamber of those they swore a sacred oath to protect,” he queries smiling, the candlelight illuminating his prominent front teeth.

“Is it done,” Cersei asks through her teeth, tiring of the man’s desperate attempts to hold some semblance of power.

“Yes. Not a soul left alive that isn’t loyal to house Baratheon... or is Lannister perhaps more apt. The north is ours for the taking now the young wolf has fallen, and Sansa is under control here.”

“What of his wife?” she asks, walking towards a nearby table, decanting wine into a goblet turning with eyebrows raised. Littlefinger was not the only one in Kings landing with ears everywhere. She had heard a rumour, one she wished to squash as soon as she can.

“His widow, you mean,” Jamie states from the door frame, dissatisfied at being left out of the conversation.

“Gone, left in the wee hours of the morning from what I heard,” Cersei says, eyes staring into Littlefinger’s, locked in a strategic game of mental chess.

“So she’s alive, ” Jamie adds, despite his previous statement being ignored.

“Not for long,” Littlefinger states , brushing him off.

“Who saw her leave?” Cersei demands, a hint of concern slipping through as she swirls her wine around in the glass.

“No one left alive,” Littlefinger reassures

“So she's...” Cersei begins,

“She’s set to land in Dorne two days from now, she will be dealt with when she arrives. She is…inconsequential.” Littlefinger finishes.

“And so ends the reign of the wolves,” Jamie remarks, as Cersei raises her glass toasting the gods.

Dorne (2 days later)

You watch the docks appear along the horizon as the ship begins to reduce its speed. The sea spray from the trip spattered across your skin was yet to dry, cooling you off, as the southern sun bares down onto you. You lick your lips, the salty taste leaves you parched in a heat the likes of which you’d never known. You’d never been to Dorne, though you’d heard stories of it’s fair weather, people and architecture, and you were eager to see if they held true. You’d heard the wine here was the sweetest the world had to offer, you planned on returning home with some, even if Dorne was merely a stopover. It was not a honeymoon you were here for, no you were here to complete a task of utmost importance. You came in search of the so-called dragon queen at the behest of your husband. He wanted to see if the rumours were true and if they were he hoped to make an ally of her. He had sent you in hopes that your shared lineage, though distant, would work in his favour. The Targaryens held family in high regard, especially with so few of them remaining. You smile as the shore comes into view, the birds above singing to your arrival. The golden hues of the late afternoon sun paint the tents of the markets in the docks. A sense of bliss rolls over you as the crew ties the ship to the dock. It would be one of the last moments of peace you would know for some time. Your feet make contact with the ground, legs wobbling slightly at being back on solid ground. You stumble slightly and a man with a blue beard catches your elbow.

“Winter is coming,” he whispers and you look up as he discreetly passes you a note. You open it. The letter is long and the script rushed, but seven words stand out ‘the King in the North has fallen’ the sheet slips from your fingers and you drop to your knees. “Quick, we haven’t much time,” he says dragging you up, as the first arrow pierces the sky, hitting the captain of your ship in the neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Winterfell, 7 years prior (age 17)

You had always stood out in the north, a caveat of the family you were born into, all of you were outsiders here. Your grandfather was a Targaryen, second cousin to the mad king and when war broke out he led a small rebellion that tried to push back the Baratheon troops storming the capitol, but to no avail. Your father and his brothers were there that day, fighting alongside him, but they were outnumbered, and no amount of skill would keep the combined Starks and the Baratheon forces at bay. After the capitol was taken, your grandfather was hanged and your grandmother took your father and his brother and feld while Robert butchered any descendents of the Targaryen line that would weaken his claim to the throne. Your father had split from his family opting to head north, while they trekked south. He never saw them again. Upon his arrival in Winterfell he built a small homestead outside the city walls and sought work, thankfully the distinctive hair and eye colour had skipped him and he could blend in with the northerners. He found work as a stone mason, crafting formidable architecture admired and paid for by the nobility. The payments allowed him to move up the social ladder and while he remained in the forest he had gained the respect of the elite and was accepted as one of them. His hands soon grew tired of creating. They craved the weight of a sword and so he gave up masonry and offered his services to Ned Stark. Your father became a confidant to the King in the North as he moved up through the ranks. He ended up training many of the soldiers, and for a while, even Ned’s own sons. His proximity to the crown brought him into the path of your mother.

A ball was held in celebration of their eldest child's first name day and your mother was in attendance representing the Tyrells. He spotted her across the room, and to this day he swears the sun shone down on her despite being inside a hall. He approached her that night and they married during the long summer, your brother Illirion was born a year later, then a year after that it was your turn. Their final child, your youngest brother Rhaevar was born two years after you, thus completing your family unit. While the honeyed eyes and dark toned hair of the Tyrells presented well with your brothers, the Targaryen traits that had initially skipped your father came through in your genetic composition. Your hair was as white as the snow that came to the north during the winter, and your eyes a lilac similar to the foxgloves that grew in the spring. You attended a local school until you reached the age where girls were no longer allowed to study. Whilst there you heard whispers from the other children. Every now and then a comment of “murderer” or “traitor” would be shot your way, much to your confusion. It wouldn’t be until years later than your parents would tell you why such comments were made. After school ended officially you continued your education at home and studied the methods of healing that your mother had been trained in while in Highgarden.

Your father insisted all his children learn how to defend themselves, the north was a dangerous place after all, and the threat of war loomed large. The stability between kingdoms was teetering, it had been peaceful for too long, a storm was coming. You’d proven to be of high talent, had it not been for your eldest brother's size you would have been the strongest fighter in the family. Illirion married at 18 to a noble girl of high status, and it wasn't long after that you lost many of your friends to marriage. Some of the pairing were good, some bad and some even for love. Despite being propositioned a few times, you had no interest in being a bride.Your parents did not mind now that your brother had secured a wife and would be able to care for you once they passed. Your father also had it on good authority that you all were to be cared for so long as a Stark sat at Winterfell.

You were acquainted with the family since childhood, though outside of parties you rarely saw them. During the gatherings you and Sansa often gossiped together and Arya would sneak you into the courtyard and beg you to train her. The time spent with them was greatly cherished. Their brothers were often gone during such events, off showcasing their prowess to girls of higher status than you, women who would one day be their wives. Little did you know, Jon and Robb had been told to stay away from you so as not to ruin your reputation. That rule had been followed until one day when a particularly cruel comment from a noble girl sent Arya running directly into your path.

You were out tracking a wolf that had killed one of your family's horses. It wasn’t revenge you sought, but its attack on your homestead meant it was getting closer to town, and growing far too bold for your liking. You’d stopped your trek once you realized it was headed back towards the wall. Approaching your house you see Arya sitting on a log outside your house near the fire pit. Her feet swinging, intermittently kicking at the dirt below.

“Arya?” you question placing your gear down on the ground as she turns to face you, her nose running, eye slightly red.

“Is Rhaevar around? I wish to play” she demands, her childlike nature apparent now more than ever.

“I’m afraid he’s gone off in search of the children of the forest, but perhaps we can find something to do together?” you offer sitting beside her, she was upset, evidently so.

“I have no want to stitch,” she huffs, causing you to laugh at her attempt to insult you.

“Good neither do I. I’m no good at it anyways,” you admit and she looks up at you “Well what do you wish, Arya? Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

“I wish to know how to shoot my arrow so it hits the target every time. I don’t care what Robb says, Jon thinks I can do it so I want to try.”

“Well, I can help with that, come I’ll show you a trick. You’ll hit it every time. Prove your eldest brother wrong,” your comment earns a rare grin from the youngest Stark daughter. After a few goes she gets the hang of it, hitting your practice targets one after the other.

“By the gods,” you chuckle, you’d never seen such natural talents before. Caught up in your admiration of her gift you fail to catch her turning to aim at a farther target still. The arrow soars through the air as two horses approach your homestead, the arrow only just missing them.

“Arya!” you shout, grabbing her arm “You must be careful!” you exasperate as she looks up to you her mouth ajar. The sound of the horses fast approaching.

“Get behind me,” you murmur, pushing in front of her and aiming the bow true.

“It’s Robb!” she shouts, pushing against you attempting to make a run for it. Despite her efforts to throw you off balance you manage to grab her arm, dropping your weapons in the process.

“Why are you running?” you ask, not releasing your grip on her scrawny arm.

“Because I don’t fit in!” she finally admits.

“Well a secret Arya, no one fits in, we're all different, it's what keeps life interesting and what will keep you alive in your years to come,” you say watching as she stops struggling a softness suddenly coming over her features.

“She said I had a face like a dog,” she whispers, chewing on her lip, eyes down. The cruelty of children was always surprising to you.

“Well I’d find it hard to find someone who does not see the tenderness of a pup, or the strength and beauty of a dire wolf. Either way, You have talents, beyond what beauty can measure, ones that will never abandon you,” you reassure. She sniffs and looks up at you offering a rare smile. You see her shift back into her tough persona, the scowl returning to her face as she runs towards the horses belonging to her brother and who you assumed must be his ward Theon. You watch the eldest Stark, now two years your senior drop down allowing Theon to help Arya, as he strides towards you.

“We’d be lucky to have you in our ranks, if you can teach her to nearly take my head off from a mile away,” he laughs, easing your nervousness slightly, his northern accent heavier than you had remembered.

“I did remind your sister to be more careful lest she be tried for treason, or worse yet, get me tried for treason. As for my services, they are always at the will of the Starks, if you wish me to join the army who am I to refuse,” you say, tilting your head and offering him a smile.

“Women are not allowed in our ranks, lest of all those who look like you,” he charms, an unexpected compliment from a man you rarely got the opportunity to speak with.

“Not yet, but rules are meant to be broken after all my Lord.” You retort, eyes meeting his steel grey gaze causing an unexpected chill to run down your spine.

“Are they?” he laughs, the warmth of it causing a sudden heat to rise within you, counteracting his gaze.

“You should remind your mother of that when you return Arya to her,” you offer, as he hands you the arrow that almost took off his head.

“Thank you for returning my sister, wolves have been prowling about, heaven forbid they got to her before us,” he says, concern etched in his face.

“The wolves have moved north, I do not believe they will return this way, and Arya is stronger than you give her credit for,” you assure, his brows raising at your competence.

“I know, and I think she does too, I fear she’ll outlive us all,” he offers, rubbing the back of his neck, the two of you standing there for a moment, the smirk that usually danced replaced by a nervous grin. His head dips down before turning back to the horse, but he stops one last time swivelling round to face you.

“My lady,” he calls after you.

“Yes my lord,” you say, turning back to face him.

“I look forward to our next meeting,” he offers sincerely.

“As do I,” you say curtseying in such a way to make him smile before you both head back towards your respective homes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 years later (age 19)

“What is it?” you ask your father as you lay down your quiver and the pair of small pheasants you’d brought home for dinner. He takes a long drag of his pipe, gaze glued to the treeline. “Father tell me?” you stress, knowing he only ever smoked when bad news had arrived.

“Illirion, he’s...” He stammers and drops his head letting out a strangled sob. You shake your head at the suggestion. Your brother had gone down to kings landing a week ago to serve as a bodyguard to Ned Stark who had been summoned at the behest of King Robert Baratheon. Arya and Sansa had gone with them, leaving Catelyn and the boys in Winterfell, Robb currently ruling in his place.

“Ned Stark would never allow…” you begin, sure your father had once again fallen trap to the rumour mill.

“He’s dead, they’re all dead, all of them...” he whispers, dropping his head to his hands.

“What happened tell me everything,” you stress, pushing your own sentiments aside for the moment.

“Beheaded, Ned for treason, for the murder of Robert Baratheon, his greatest friend, unlikely story. They killed your brother as Ned’s head fell. Arya, is missing, presumed dead, Sansa is a prisoner, to be wedded to that horrible snot nosed inbred Joffrey.” He continues in fragmented sentences.

“Mother?” you question.

“She’s in bed still, hasn’t left, I dare not tell her the worst of it,” he admits tear streaked eyes meeting yours.

“What the worst of it?” you ask, unable to think what could possibly be worse. “Lean on me father, there is no else left for you to confide in, lend me some of the burden,” you stress rubbing his arm in encouragement.

“War is upon us and each family must provide a soldier. Since my knee… I am no longer able to fight, the Starks know this. So your youngest brother…” he starts, but a sob catches in his throat stopping him.

“He can’t go, he’s too…” you begin, swallowing as you try to think of the right word.

“Soft” your father offers.

“No, he’s just not skilled enough, at least not in the ways of the sword. Skilled as he is as a mason he wouldn’t last a minute on the battlefield,” you pause, only one path was clear to you “Let me go in his place,” You say, before you have time to process what you had just offered to do.

“No,” your father says without hesitation.

“Let me go and you may end this life with two of three children. If he goes, I will be the only one left and I could not bear it,” you say pushing back tears at the thought of losing another brother.

“Your mother...” he begins

“Knows I was the best fighter. I had the best teacher in all the seven kingdoms after all,” you say nudging him with your elbow. He places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, before pulling you into a tight embrace.

“When do I leave?” you ask.

“Tonight. It’s a good thing your brother isn’t tall, his armour will fit you, take this helmet. Do not remove it, keep your hood up, any trouble and cut off their cocks, or else I will.”

“I'll see you again, I swear it,” you state, with every intent of keeping your promise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The battle rages forward, men fall around you, but you refuse to meet a similar fate today. Your sword penetrates through the opening of a Lannister’s armour turning quickly to slice the backs of the knees of another soldier, both falling in tandem. You hear a horse whinny on your left and you turn to see Robb Stark fall from his horse becoming trapped beneath the dying creature. You weave throughout the battle towards him. Your blade intercepts the longsword of an enemy soldier just as it’s about to penetrate Robbs armour. You drop your shield to Robb and you push up against the attacker. Releasing your force he falls forward and Robb pushes the shield up hitting the man’s face swinging his head back. Grabbing the man by his hair you slit his throat. You drop your sword and pull Robb out from beneath the horse. He grabs your shoulders giving you nod before returning to the forefront of the battle. As the horn of retreat sounds you celebrate the victory with those around you, surviving the first of many attacks.

You're walking back to the tents when you hear a familiar voice call out to you.

“You, wait,” Robb demands, chuckling with those around him. You continue on your path hoping he was talking to someone else. “It is not wise to disobey your king.” He sounds out again, forcing you to turn towards him.

“Come now friend, we mean no harm. I wish to look upon the face of the man who saved me and invite him to ride alongside me.” he states.

“Perhaps he is too ugly to show his face, my lord,” one of his lieutenants states causing a laugh to erupt from the surrounding crowd of men except for Robb. Though a slight smile pulls at the corner of his mouth breaking the cold façade he’d donned since his father’s death. A moment passes then another until the silence is so prolonged you have no other option but to obey. Slowly you lift your helmet up your eyes meeting his for the first time in a year.

“A prize for the army, my lord?” one of the men questions, hungrily eyeing you up as he fervently steps towards you. Robb's arm stops him in his tracks and you draw your blade.

“Touch me and risk losing more than just your hand, I have fought alongside you. I am your equal. You will treat me as such,” you demand, your voice unwavering despite the uneasiness in your stomach.

“You have a cunt, you are not our equal, though perhaps in bed…” another from the crowd offers.

“Stop! Leave us” Robb orders, and the men retreat back towards the camp ground the sound of laughter and whistles picking up once out of range.

“I did tell you rules were meant to be broken,” you say, watching as he tries to suppress a smile.

“Well they certainly have been now” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Are you going to hang me, my lord? Or is it my King now?” you question, a bolder move than you should have felt comfortable making.

“To you it's Robb and no I am not going to hang you, but you are going to come with me,” he says offering you his arm which you brush by looking back at him to follow.

“How have you come to be here? Does your father know?” Catelyn stresses,eyes growing wide as she scans over you assessing the damage.

“My lady, yes, he does. You see when the war was announced and after my brother’s death, we knew someone from our family would have to fight. My father’s leg as you know isn’t... as it used to be, and my younger brother while talented in many ways, cannot hold a blade to save his life. My mother’s grief was already far too much for her to lose another child.” You say, eyes risking tears as she meets her gaze.

“So they sent you?” she explains to herself.

“Yes my lady I was the best fighter in the family, or the most skilled at least.”

“Well, we will not make your brother come to fight, but you cannot stay in the army,” she explains softly, hand running up and down your arms in reassurance.

“She saved my life today,” Robb interjects and Cat looks at you as you look at him.

“Then I am indebted to you.” She expresses.

“As am I,” Robb states the two of you not having dropped eye contact, much to the notice of Cat.

“Lady Catelyn, I am a capable fighter, but if you will not allow me to so, at least allow me to tend to the wounded or to serve you in some other manner. I am here after all, put me to use.” you say and she lets out a sigh.

“Well, if you believe yourself able to defend yourself, and if what my son says is true then I would be remiss to send you home, though you will not sleep out with the rest of the army, you will stay with me.” she says.

“And during the battle you will remain close to me,” Robb stresses “not for your protection, but for mine”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1 year later (Age 20)

Robb watches as you kill another soldier, the sight never failing to impress him. You had remained close over the past year, both in and out of the battlefield. He kept you close at all costs, your company bringing him some semblance of joy, even in his darkest moments. Rumours swirled amongst the men and the other kingdoms, though nothing between the two of you had come to fruition. Due to the colour of your hair, the enemy soldiers had dubbed you the white wolf, in an attempt to link the Starks with the treacherous Targaryens. While the insinuations at your extracurricular activities with Robb pushed the narrative that he was impure, that northerners were savages, who did not abide by the values of the seven kingdoms.

As you wipe the blood from your eyes, an arrow catches you in the shoulder, the force knowing you back into a tree. Robb is at your side in record time, his hand stopping yours from pulling the weapon out.

“Medic!” he shouts, eyes not leaving yours.

“Go! you need to lead your people, I will be fine,” you emphasize and he shakes his head “Robb, it is a shoulder, nothing of importance lives there.”

“No but it is attached to something of the utmost importance.”

“Go you have a war to win,” you state as the medic helps you to your feet and brings you back across the line.

You sit in Robbs tent, despite your insistence at being treated in the same manner as the other soldiers, he had demanded you be brought there instead. A skilled nurse had removed the arrow from your shoulder just as you heard the rambunctious cheers of the men outside, victory had been secured. Unsurprising considering Robbs keen strategic mind, he was smarter than you'd have accredited him for in your youth. He enters the tent blood spatter still on his face, seeing you alive and fine he takes the moment to remove his armour. He pulls his undershirt off and walks to the water basin wiping himself clean of the sweat and grim coating his skin. Your eyes watch his bare skin intently, studying every scar, every freckle. He grabs a fresh cloth dunking it the basin and wringing it out before heading over to you. He kneels before you, staring up at you eyes telling you to drop the blood soaked rag currently held to your wound, and you oblige.

“I must confess I long hoped to share an intimate moment with you, though these circumstances are not as I imagined,” he says, gently dabbing at your wound, you smile at his concentration.

“And under what circumstances would you have hoped to be intimate with me, my king? At one of your fancy parties, in the secrecy of a barn, somewhere no one would know you had been with a Targaryen girl.” You ask trying to keep your eyes forwards and not at his muscular physique.

“Every man in Winterfell had dreamed of sharing a moment like that with you, though none have found any luck,” he says, standing up and walking back over to the basin.

“I have no need for a husband nor do I have the want to be wife,” you say, watching the muscles of his arm flex as he wrigns out the rag.

“and what about a queen?” he queries, as his hand braces against your thigh, continuing to clean your wound, his eyes still focused on the gash.

“Do you ask all your foot soldiers such bold questions,” you quip, laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

“Only the ones naked in my chambers,” he retorts, eyes darting up a grin plastered to his face.

“A bare shoulder is hardly naked in your chambers,” you state, and he raises his eyebrows mischievously.

“My fondness for you was never allowed,” he admits, dabbing the cloth into a salve and applying it to the wound.

“Oh wasn’t it,” you ask as he looks up to you

“No, my mother feared one of us would ruin you,”

“A Targaryen In the north, perhaps it was fear of you boys being ruined.” you laugh, but when you look at him the tone has shifted.

‘When that arrow hit you, my feelings were confirmed, I no longer wish to be more than a few feet from you at any given moment. I wish to marry you. If you'll allow me”

“Don’t be stupid my king, you’re to be married to a princess from what I understand.”

“I'll be married to whom I please” he assures.

“Robb is that wise?” you question, unfamiliar with the high stakes games played with marriage.

“The Frey’s will recover besides, we’ve crossed their bridge already, and I have no love for anyone but you.”

“Love? We barely know each other,” you say.

“Only our whole lives,” he reminds you.

“I fear you’ll wake up tomorrow and regret your words, so I will not answer you tonight.”

“Then I will return to these chambers tomorrow morning and restate my intentions to make you my wife.”

“What will they say if you allow me to take your bed for the night?” you ponder aloud.

“I guess we shall see” he states, slinging his bloodied shirt over his shoulder.

“Goodnight my King” you offer, watching in amusement as he attempts to find the tents exit without turning around.

“It’s Robb. For you, it's always just Robb”

True to his word he returned the next day and asked again, and this time you accepted. You married a few days later under an old willow tree, with Catelyn and a few others standing witness. The morning after your wedding you awake in his chambers, the sun yet to rise. Robb snores faintly beneath you, the warmth of the fire sending a chill up your skin that had become exposed in the night. You scan over his features, a peacefulness you hadn’t before on his face. You reach over brushing the white patch of hair amongst the mass of soft brown curls on his head. As you do his eyes open looking over to you propping himself up on his elbow and learning over to kiss your forehead.

“What is it my love?” you ask, kissing his cheek, then his lips .

“I need you to do something,” he says, serious as always.

“What we just did wasn't enough, my king? How else may I please you tonight,” you offer hands dancing across his chest, he grins shaking his head slightly.

“You have pleased me in every way imaginable for the past year, and even more tonight. This favour isn't a pleasure of the flesh however, I need you to complete a task. You’re the only one I can trust,” he states.

“You shift up to face him, the furs falling off you slightly, “find the Targaryen girl. I wish to make an ally of her, to destroy the Lannister once and for all. You are likely the only family she has left, she may listen to you.”

“I'll do what I can, and I'll do it fast, I do not wish to be parted from you for long.” you admit as his hand traces over your back.

“Take this with you, that way i'll be protecting you even while we are apart,” he leans over grabbing his dagger, the one made for him by his father, offering it to you.

“Robb I…” you begin.

“Will return it to me a fortnight from now when you come back. I suggest we make the most of tonight, so you have another reason to return to me,” he states

“I'll always return to you, even in death,” you reassure and he wraps the blanket back over you pulling you tightly to his chest. And so as Robb took his seat in the halls of Walder Frey to watch his supposed bride marry another man, you were catching a boat destined for Dorne.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present day (Age 21)

“Come with me now Lady Stark, your life depends on it,” the stranger says, pulling you to your feet and shuffling you into a nearby tavern ushering you quickly up the stairs. You see a pile of clothes laid out on the bed and immediately strip, all notions of decency erased in favour of time.

“You must disappear, make them think you are dead,” he says, averting his eyes as you change into clothes typical of local mercenaries.

“Who killed him, what happened?” you ask, needing some kind of answers.

“There is no time, and it's safer if you do not know.” He says eyes darting from you to the door.

“I have a right to..”

“The Freys betrayed you, everyone at the wedding is dead, you have no claim to Winterfell. The Lannisters have taken the North”

“Everyone at the wedding..” you echo, sitting on the bed

“Stay here..” the blue bearded stranger says, returning a few moments later with a cloak, sword and black dye in hand, placing them down and grabbing for the clothes and the dagger on the floor, Robbs dagger.

“That stays” you stress grabbingthe dagger from his reach.

“It’s too…” he starts

“It stays, it's all I have left of him,” you whisper harsher than intended, fighting back tears. He nods and you take it from him. You grab the dye from his hand and rub it through your hair, staining it a deep ember.

“Keep your eyes down, they're the only thing we can’t disguise,” he states

“Who are you, why are you helping me?” you question memorizing the man's face.

“You share a common enemy with powerful people. You have allies here. Goodbye Lady Stark I hope we meet again,” he says, and with a swift turn he exits the tavern leaving you alone with your thoughts. You wait a moment before donning the cloak and pulling up your hood. You walk out the tavern, putting as much distance between you and the docks as possible. Keeping your eyes down as men scoured the streets for the person you once were

#oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x reader #prince oberyn x reader #robb stark x reader #oberyn x you #oberyn martell #game of thrones fanfiction #oberyn martell x you

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aerltarg · 3 years

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Maybe this is a stupid question, buuuuut:

I just can't imagine a world that Rhaegar comes back from the Trident, wins the war and becomes king. No, I'm not a anti Rhaegar, matter of fact I like him very much, I'm just can imagine how would Lya, little Jon, this whole affair, would settle in the capital. The norm that fics (at least those I read) tend to follow is to make Rhaegar:

1. A douche, paranoid and destiny-obessed king.

2. Completely incompetent, aloof monarch, that deep down has a heart of gold, but can't really be understood.

I mean, isn't he supposed to be a scholar since he was a kid? What's are your thoughts about it?

oh, yeah, i can totally understand this! it's is the whole point in canon actually, "the wrong man came back from the trident". you would expect a hero win against his antagonist and have a happy ending w his lady love but it doesn't happen. instead the subversion happens to them with rhaegar being killed by robert who becomes obviously a shitty king and lyanna dying after him. they were never supposed to have happy ending, they were created as tragic and doomed and dead from the beginning for the whole plot to start, jon to have his parentage mystery and dany to take the passed baton as the last dragon, prophesied savoir and the heir who has to carry entire house on her back now.

as for the realistic rhaegar wins aus that's the difficult question. tbh we just don't know enough abt their situation, plans and wishes. you see, e.g. in agot we can be right in ned's head and see his motivations, what he was thinking abt, what he was planning, what he was hoping to do. but if his story was told the way rhaegar's was i bet he would have his own crowd of haters and ~intellectuals~ jumping out every two seconds w their "hot takes" how actually all hints abt what rlly happened (ned being a good man w his own sense of honour, justice and experiences affecting him and the deal w cersei's children) doesn't matter and he was an ambitious prick, planned to grasp the power by being joffrey's regent and make his daughter sansa queen. (you can actually insert there any bullshit and still don't reach the level of stupidity of such "hot takes" this fandom loves so much lmao). also he would be blamed to the hell and beyond for being too stupid and not foreseeing the future and actions of other ppl bc ofc after everything happened it's so easy to say what was so obvious to notice. also they would say that the deaths of his men and horrible fates of his kids are 100% his fault and even straight up say he killed them lmao. i can rant abt it for hours so yeah. this is a situation w too many unknown variables bc it depends too much on actions of too many characters we don't know enough abt. the only thing it's possible to tell for sure is the fact that there couldn't be any perfect solutions since things got too complicated at this point.

such fics as you've mentioned tho are just a part of this dumb fanon where rhaegar is "too prophecy obsessed"/"incapable of love"/shrodinger's rhaegar both smart and stupid at the same time/whatever/all of this combined lmfao. the man was notably intelligent from the early age as you've absolutely rightly mentioned, his guesses abt himself being tptwp have nothing to do w egocentrism as some parts of the fandom would want us all to believe unless he wouldn't be so reasonable abt it and later on, after so many years, wouldn't have changed his mind and thought his son could be tptwp.

and literally fuck all antis that think you shouldn't consider prophecies that hold real power in this fantasy world lol. you know, aegon the conqueror was said to be motivated (or at least partly) to unify westeros by the prophecy and still got the treatment of perfect/maximum close to perfect figure of a leader everyone should look up to from the narrative and grrm. prophecy obsessed much, huh? i don't even talk abt all these parallels between him and rhaegar grrm put there not for bitches to ignore them completely! and i will never get tired of reminding that dismissing prophecies is UNWISE for targaryens of all people. the house whose story is built on the dream of young daenys and her father aenar that listened to her despite common sense (or what local "anti magic"/"anti prophecies" clowns consider to be common sense). targs would be as dead as the rest of dragonlords if not for daenys the dreamer. who else in the world has as many reasons to take prophecies seriously as them?

yet antis out there act as if rhaegar is one dimensional weirdo whose every character trait is abt mf ~prophecy obsession~. like how can they miss one of the main points so badly?? the game of thrones distracts ppl from the real danger beyond the wall, yk, the one rhaegar was aware of and meant to deal with. there wouldn't be such a problem if he became king and had as many years of head start before ice zombies apocalypse as ignorant bobby b did. rhaegar had to die just for westeros to sink in shit and our main heroes to save everyone to make this story more epic LMAO

so yeah, too many ppl portray rhaegar as this one dimensional robotic creature without any knowledge of what feelings are idk even for what reason. it seems these ppl can't read for real bc rhaegar was not only intelligent af as well as dutiful ("it seems i must be a warrior" but "he loved his harp more than his lance") but also. ugh emotional?? my boy had constant emo sessions w brooding at ruins of summerhall, sleeping out there beneath the stars all alone and writing songs that made all women cry. does it sound as someone who "isn't capable of love" lol? folks act as if he was completely heartless from the day he was born (bc he didnt play w other kids ig??) but in reality their emotional range is less than the one of a spoon in comparison to rhaegar's lol. i'm not even gonna address the horrible attitude of demonizing him for his implied depression, vile clowns never listen to themselves when they talk abt targaryens and their "madness".

tldr; these fics are mostly lame af and suck at characterization if they're making rhaegar like that lol. anyway his character isn't abt being a good or a bad king, it's abt being a would-be-king for characters in books and readers in reality to sigh over his tragic aura and pretty aesthetic abt how it could've been. however, grrm clearly doesn't write rhaegar as evil or incapable as some parts of the fandom would want to try to persuade others. realistically speaking in the scenario where he wins there couldn't be any perfect decisions but it's a territory of speculations on thin air and lit nothing more since canon doesn't provide us with enough information to rlly theorize anything instead of building biased headcanons some ppl call "analysis".

but remember what barristan said about rhaegar while practically watching him all his life, from a literal baby to the man grown:

“I know little of Rhaegar. Only the tales Viserys told, and he was a little boy when our brother died. What was he truly like?”

The old man considered a moment. “Able. That above all. Determined, deliberate, dutiful, single-minded.” (ASOS, Daenerys I)

“Prince Rhaegar’s prowess was unquestioned, but he seldom entered the lists. He never loved the song of swords the way that Robert did, or Jaime Lannister. It was something he had to do, a task the world had set him. He did it well, for he did everything well. That was his nature. But he took no joy in it. Men said that he loved his harp much better than his lance.” (ASOS, Daenerys IV)

#thank you for the ask!!!#hope it didnt get too long and rambly afshsjsjs #once started talking its hard to shut up 😂#and im sorry for any possible mistakes #.txt #rhaegar targaryen #targnation #mypost #fandom wank #anti antis #majorton #*answered #asks

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a-libra-writes · 3 years

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The modern ned stark headcanons are so cute! I would love some headcanons for being modern ned stark's second wife en being younger than him. ❤

omg ... my weakness... older widowed men ...... (a lot of the stuff from the first modern post still applies but here's some extra).

Remember when I said modern Ned is less depressed and less guilt-ridden? Scratch that. A lot of that sadness would come back when he's a widower. Not only that, he has all these kids to look after, and of course he tries to give 100% to them but between his kids, his job and the depression, he spreads himself really thin.

I imagine that's would how he'd meet his future second wife. She could be a coworker, a friendly neighbor, a tutor he hires, an old family friend - either way, she ends up helping him out. Lyanna, Brandon and Benjen would insist on helping too but they aren't always available or they may not live close, so that's where you end up helping a lot.

Ned would never talk to you like less than an equal. He wouldn't even notice the age gap at first; like it wouldn't cross his mind. He'd see you as a kind, friendly and witty person that actually gets him smiling again.

Because Ned is Ned, regardless if you're 25 or 35, if he's more than 10 years older he gets a little shy when someone points it out. It's not appropriate to be friends with someone younger, is it...?

Even if that wasn't the case, he'd take a long time to get around to a relationship. It'd be one of those things where everyone sees it, the kids really like you, you're always spending time together, all your stuff is at his big house .... He'd just be second guessing himself the whole time, wondering if you'd really be happy.

It's probably a drunken Robert that shoves him into buying the ring, like he threatens to call you and tell you all about it or something.

Once you're engaged, a lot of his worries and anxieties start going away - though he's still worried about the difference in age. See, in the ASOIAF universe, Ned would still feel bad for a second wife that's much younger than him - but that's expected of her. In a more modern setting, he hopes you're truly happy and not sticking around just because he needs you. You'll probably have to give him lots of reassurances that you love him and the kids.

Still, he doesn't like jokes about him being older. Robert's divorced ass running around with 20-somethings and posting about it just to piss off Cersei doesn't help at all.

He'd never pressure you into kids and he'd understand if you didn't want any - he has five, after all. The holidays and family vacations feel warm and happy again. Even if they're bittersweet at times - they probably always will be - he doesn't feel a constant sense of dread and listlessness looming over him as Christmas or a birthday approaches.

You baffle him when you go on about internet slang, new music and whatever new technology is out. He thinks it's funny though, and he likes to use slang wrong just to make you, Robb and Sansa roll your eyes. He's also a master of subtle dad jokes.

Overall, once you're both married and together for a while he finally starts feeling how he used to. His siblings noticed the difference right when you both started dating and they were glad he was able to find someone. Not only do you have Ned, you've suddenly acquired three older Stark siblings that love messing with you.

#ned stark x reader #eddard stark x reader #got x reader #libra headcanons

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aboveallarescuer · 3 years

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I know you've gotten anons about the YMBQ prophecy recently but I was wondering in what context could it be obvious for the reader that Daenerys is the YMBQ if Cersei is most likely to die or leave KL once Aegon arrives and not Daenerys. Even if Daenerys takes KL later on wouldn't he technically be the one to take all she holds dear (her power as regent)?

First of all, Anon, I think it’s interesting that you say that Young Griff (rather than Arianne) would take all that Cersei holds dear in this hypothetical scenario (that most people assume will come to pass). asoiaf tumblr fandom loved (loves?) to take for granted that Arianne would be YMBQ (after all, it was/is taken for granted that she would marry Young Griff and become his queen consort) years ago. At the same time, though, I’m not sure if you’re implying that Young Griff might actually be the one to fulfill the YMB(Q) prophecy in this ask. I actually saw this theory before. So I’m going to make counterarguments to this theory first and then address your question about how and when Dany might be revealed as the YMBQ (and if that’s what you were specifically looking for, just skip to the end, though you might be disappointed by the fact that I'm not really providing definitive answers because I have a lot of doubts myself).

In a way, it makes more sense for Young Griff to fulfill the prophecy rather than Arianne. Let’s remember what Cersei wants the most, which is shown in the beginning of her very first chapter:

She dreamt she sat the Iron Throne, high above them all. (AFFC Cersei I)

Unfortunately for Cersei, she can’t ever actually sit the Iron Throne, which is pointed out several times:

Cersei shifted in her seat as he went on, wondering how long she must endure his hectoring. Behind her loomed the Iron Throne, its barbs and blades throwing twisted shadows across the floor. Only the king or his Hand could sit upon the throne itself. Cersei sat by its foot, in a seat of gilded wood piled with crimson cushions. (AFFC Cersei V)

Seated on her gold-and-crimson high seat beneath the Iron Throne, Cersei could feel a growing tightness in her neck. (AFFC Cersei VII)

Cersei sat beneath the Iron Throne, clad in green silk and golden lace. (AFFC Cersei X)

As the first quote states, only the king or the Hand can sit the Iron Throne, which is what Cersei wants the most, since, to her, it symbolizes almost unlimited power ("high above them all"). Indeed, I would argue that what Cersei holds dear is the chance to reign supreme (“The rule was hers; Cersei did not mean to give it up until Tommen came of age. [...] If Margaery Tyrell thinks to cheat me of my hour in the sun, she had bloody well think again.”), not “her power as regent” (as you put it), which is limited by nature. After all, the king’s wife and mother can’t sit the Iron Throne. This means three things to me:

Queen consorts like Margaery or Arianne (if she actually marries Young Griff, which is far from certain) can’t take all that Cersei holds dear.

Queens claiming power in their own right but who have no claim to the Iron Throne are excluded too. In other words, Asha or QitN!Sansa (another fan theory that’s far from certain and that’s accepted as future canon) can’t take all that Cersei holds dear.

Only a she-king (that is, a queen regnant) with a claim to the Iron Throne can take all that Cersei holds dear - that’s Dany.

But then, we have Young Griff. He is a king with a claim to the Iron Throne, so he could, in theory, take what Cersei holds dear and fulfill the prophecy. However, I find that very unlikely for a number of reasons:

GRRM doesn’t highlight men’s physical appearances or objectify them in the same way that he does with women, as a lot of people have already criticized him for. He makes a point of mentioning women’s accomplishments along with overpraise for their physical appearances (though one might be generous and chalk that up to social commentary about how their society objectifies women instead of giving them their due praise for what they do). He encourages his fans to speculate about who is the YMB(Q) and pit his female characters against each other based on their physical appearances (e.g., people have criticized how Sansa stans often mention the number of times the word “beautiful” appears in Sansa’s chapters to back up their belief that she’s the YMB(Q), but the way GRRM himself wrote the prophecy lends itself to this sort of analysis) because he uses certain tropes uncritically. He portrays fat women negatively in comparison to thin women (see: Cersei (who’s said to be gaining weight throughout AFFC as she becomes more unstable) vs Dany, Lysa vs Cat, Barba Bracken vs Melissa Blackwood, arguably Rhaenyra vs Alicent). He takes an almost voyeuristic pleasure in describing women’s bodies and women having sex with women (see how Dany and Irri’s or Cersei and Taena’s sexual encounters don’t give any depth to Dany’s, Irri’s and Taena’s characters and, as far as I can tell, are mostly written to fetishize them). Consider, for instance, how 13- to 16-year-old Dany is the most sexualized character of the book series, while I’m not even sure if her male counterpart Jon is supposed to be considered attractive or not (on the one hand, he’s attracted women like Ygritte and Val; on the other hand, he’s meant to look a lot like Ned, who’s regarded as plain in appearance, especially in comparison to the hot-blooded Brandon). All of this is to say that I doubt that a man will fulfill a prophecy that remarks upon the person’s physical appearance (“younger and more beautiful”). Considering GRRM’s writing problems, a woman is much more likely to do so.

Young Griff is supposed to represent a lesser version of Dany (note that I’m talking about Young Griff as a fictional character, not as a person). After all, unlike Dany, Young Griff didn’t get to have lived experience of poverty, he didn’t get to have his skills tested, he didn’t get to apply the lessons he learned along the way, he didn’t get to take action and make mistakes and gain valuable experience and wisdom, he didn’t get to choose to stay in Slaver’s Bay solely to help marginalized people who aren’t connected to him by neither blood nor lands (which would emphasize how he doesn’t view his birthright merely as something owed to him, but rather as a means to “protect the ones who can’t protect themselves”). He could have had this sort of character development if GRRM wanted him to, but he has a different role in the narrative: he’s a tertiary character who we’re not meant to know all that much as a person or about how he would fare as king because he serves as a foil to Dany. With all of that in mind, what would be the point of having this minor character, who was introduced in the fifth book of a seven-book series, fulfill this prophecy rather than the one protagonist who the author said was deliberately written as Cersei’s foil multiple times (more on that below)?

Which brings me to a point that @rainhadaenerys made in our upcoming Dany/Cersei meta... Cersei views women with contempt because she thinks that they can only attain political influence with “tears” and with what’s “between [their] legs” (as she tells Sansa). This informs why, for example, she projects the unfounded idea that a widow must have lovers on Margaery or why she herself uses money and sex to keep her men loyal (which ultimately backfires on her). Unfortunately, it’s true that “[Cersei’s] strength relies on her beauty, birth and riches”. Because of her internalized misogyny, Cersei can’t conceive of a woman who might rise to power primarily because of her intelligence and shrewdness… Except that there is a woman who successfully conquered three cities and ruled the third and freed thousands of slaves relying primarily on her actual wit, political savviness and leadership skills rather than on sex, birthright or money… Dany. Dany is the competent, selfless ruler who could overcome many of the patriarchal limitations that Cersei couldn’t (hence why Cersei is a tragic figure). If Young Griff were to be the YMB(Q), he would simply be one of the many men (along with Robert, her brother, her father and the other Hands) who Cersei thinks wronged her and prevented her from staying in power. If Daenerys were to be the YMBQ, she would challenge Cersei’s toxic beliefs about women, which prevented Cersei from even imagining that a she-king might be the one foreshadowed to defeat her or that a woman (that isn’t her, of course) could actually be able to earn her accomplishments (just like she can’t imagine that Jaime might actually betray and kill her). Now, someone might argue that GRRM is not “woke” enough to do this, but I would disagree in this particular case. There are valid critiques to be made about how he wrote his female characters (I’ve made some points myself on the first item), but it’s still true that Dany’s character arc was written with awareness of how her gender affects her experiences. If that hadn’t been the case, AGOT wouldn’t have initially set up several men (Viserys, Rhaego, Drogo) to be claimant to the Iron Throne/SWMTW/the protagonist only to reveal that these roles are actually meant to be fulfilled by Dany, a woman. If that hadn’t been the case, he wouldn’t have had Maester Aemon acknowledge that “no one had ever looked for a girl” when they pondered on who might be AA/PTWP. So I don’t put it past GRRM to make Dany the YMBQ as a way of challenging Cersei’s entire worldview.

Indeed, I actually think that’s likely to be what he’ll write. GRRM has stated multiple times that Dany and Cersei are meant to be compared and contrasted because they were consciously written by him (specially in AFFC/ADWD) as narrative foils:

George regrets that Cersei and Dany will not be contrasted directly. (x)

His biggest lament in splitting A Feast for Crows from A Dance with Dragons is the parallels he was drawing between Circe and Daenerys. (x)

Cersei and Daenerys are intended as parallel characters --each exploring a different approach to how a woman would rule in a male dominated, medieval-inspired fantasy world. (x)

While discussing how he writes his female characters, he also mentioned that splitting the books as he did this time meant we didn't get the parallel between how Danaerys and Cersei both approach the task of leadership, which is a bit of a shame. (x)

And that one of the things he regrets losing from the POV split is that he was doing point and counterpoint with the Dany and Cersei scenes--showing how each was ruling in their turn. (x)

I think Young Griff as the YMB(Q) is very, very unlikely. If it’s not Dany, then I think Brienne (who at least is a viewpoint character that we know intimately) as the YMBQ (though I doubt it because she can only take Jaime away from Cersei and, as we saw in AFFC, Cersei was willing to separate herself from Jaime once she realized that he would question and disagree with her decisions and, in her mind, threaten her influence and power, i.e., what she wants the most) or even Cersei herself (the basis of this theory is that a younger Cersei caused her own downfall by making the choices she made. It’s not impossible considering that Cersei’s unreliable viewpoint prevents her from ever taking responsibility for her actions. Still, I think it’s unlikely because she’s been positioned as a passive participant in these prophecies - someone/some people kills her children, some person takes away everything she holds dear, some person murders her. Just like there’s a valonqar to kill Cersei, I think there’ll be a YMBQ to defeat her) are more plausible candidates. However, as I said in previous answers, Dany and Cersei have lots of clearly intended parallels and anti parallels (hence why GRRM mentioned them at least five times publicly) that people don’t often appreciate (but that I don’t want to mention here because I’m saving them for edits and that long meta). I find it hard to believe that GRRM would lay all this groundwork to contrast these two queens only to reveal that a minor character is the actual YMB(Q).

Now, the question about “in what context could it be obvious for the reader that Daenerys is the YMBQ” is difficult because, IMO, I don’t feel like there’s enough information to give you a reliable answer. First, let’s recap the most common theories, which, while I don’t think should be accepted as canon just yet, are popular for logical reasons. Here’s what GRRM said about the future events in the initial outline and interviews:

While the lion of Lannister and the direwolf of Stark snarl and scrap, however, a second and greater threat takes shape across the narrow sea, where the Dothraki horselords mass their barbarian hordes for a great invasion of the Seven Kingdoms, led by the fierce and beautiful Daenerys Stormborn, the last of the Targaryen dragonlords. The Dothraki invasion will be the central story of my second volume, A Dance with Dragons. (x)

GRRM: Yes, three more volumes remain. The series could almost be considered as two linked trilogies, although I tend to think of it more as one long story. The next book, A Dance With Dragons, will focus on the return of Daenerys Targaryen to Westeros, and the conflicts that creates. After that comes The Winds of Winter. I have been calling the final volume A Time For Wolves, but I am not happy with that title and will probably change it if I can come up with one that I like better. (x)

He said that in his original plan (when he wanted to write a trilogy) the Red Wedding would take place in book one, and Dany’s landing in Westeros in book two. Now he says that Dany’s arrival in Westeros will take place in book 5, A Dance with Dragons. (x)

From there he started to plan a trilogy, since there were 3 main conflicts (Starks/Lannisters; Dany; and the Others) it felt it would neatly fit into a trilogy (ah!), but like Tolkien said, the tale grew in the telling. (x)

“Well, Tyrion and Dany will intersect, in a way, but for much of the book they’re still apart,” he says. “They both have quite large roles to play here. Tyrion has decided that he actually would like to live, for one thing, which he wasn’t entirely sure of during the last book, and he’s now working toward that end—if he can survive the battle that’s breaking out all around him. And Dany has embraced her heritage as a Targaryen and embraced the Targaryen words. So they’re both coming home.” (x)

GRRM’s words seem to indicate that Dany will go to Dragonstone ("they're both coming home") and then King’s Landing in her campaign to take back the Seven Kingdoms before she goes to the Wall to fight against the Others.

And it is quite possible that she will clash with Young Griff. For one:

Hi, short question. Will we find out more about the Dance of the Dragons in future books?

The first dance or the second?

The second will be the subject of a book. The first will be mentioned from time to time, I'm sure. (x)

For two:

"It is dragons."

"Dragons?" said her mother. "Teora, don't be mad."

"I'm not. They're coming."

"How could you possibly know that?" her sister asked, with a note of scorn in her voice. "One of your little dreams?"

Teora gave a tiny nod, chin trembling. "They were dancing. In my dream. And everywhere the dragons danced the people died." (TWOW Arianne I)

For three:

Glowing like sunset, a red sword was raised in the hand of a blue-eyed king who cast no shadow. A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire ... mother of dragons, slayer of lies … (ACOK Daenerys IV)

Now, here are my observations/questions/doubts:

The “cloth dragon” receiving a round of cheers from the crowd seems to indicate that a) Tommen will indeed fall from power when Young Griff (who’s already in Westeros almost ready to attack) invades King’s Landing and that b) Young Griff will inspire love from the population.

The more obvious possibility is that the second dance of dragons refers to a Dany versus Young Griff confrontation, especially since she’s prophesied to slay the lie that he represents (that he’s not Rhaegar Targaryen's son, but actually Illyrio’s son and a Blackfyre). However, since Victarion is currently in Meereen with a dragonbinder, it’s very likely that Dany will lose control of one of her dragons to a Greyjoy (either Victarion or Euron Greyjoy himself) and then will arrive in Westeros with only two of her three dragons. Or maybe Euron will use one of the dragons to attack Young Griff and that will be the second dance (though I find that unlikely since, again, Dany is prophesied to slay Young Griff’s lie). Or the second dance could actually refer to Dany versus Euron.

There are alternative speculations to consider. Right now, the consensus in the Dany fandom seems to be that there’s already too much in Dany’s plate for her (uniting all the khalasars and being hailed as the SWMTW; going back to Meereen; meeting Tyrion, Jorah, Moqorro and other characters; maybe going to Yunkai; going to Volantis; etc) to go to King’s Landing, which led to people assuming that only Cersei and JonCon will be involved in the city’s burning. It’s even theorized that Dany might actually skip King’s Landing and go to the Wall instead. These theories make a lot of sense and aren’t implausible, but it’s hard to reconcile them with GRRM’s initial intention with Dany (though it’s also been argued that he may have given part of her initial role to Young Griff). Additionally, I don’t think timeline issues are necessarily a guarantee of what GRRM will do with Dany. He made Tyrion travel much faster than reasonable back in AGOT to have him meet Catelyn in the inn at the crossroads and to be taken captive by her. So I wouldn't put it past GRRM to do something similar with Dany by having her arrive earlier in King’s Landing than she reasonably would just because he wants it to happen. And, as much as I don’t want it to happen and even though I criticized the theory before, I don’t think it’s impossible (though it’s not guaranteed either) for Dany to be accidentally involved in the burning of King’s Landing (though there is a recent counter-theory to that as well).

Re: Cersei, a lot of people tend to assume that she’s going to die when Young Griff takes King’s Landing, but I am not really sure. I do think that her parallels with Aerys II will pay off and reflect her ending. But that doesn’t prevent Cersei from surviving Young Griff’s invasion and meeting Dany later. Cersei could escape to Casterly Rock and they could meet there. Or Cersei could later attempt to retake the capital again in another impractical plan of hers, which then leads to King’s Landing burning. I don’t know.

Does Dany have to meet everyone to fulfill these prophecies? I’m not sure. Does Dany necessarily need to meet Young Griff and Stannis to slay their lies? Does she necessarily need to meet Cersei so that the readership finds out that she’s the YMBQ? Will there even be an actual moment that makes it “obvious for the reader that Daenerys is the YMBQ”? I don’t know, Anon. It may end up being up for people’s interpretation. Dany might end up burning the Iron Throne, if the theory about her accidentally burning King’s Landing actually happens. Dany might willingly melt the Iron Throne and install a new form of government that gives the smallfolk more political influence. Both of these possibilities could symbolize the end of Cersei’s desire for absolute power, even if Cersei and Dany don’t actually meet. I’m not even sure that there will be a moment that outright reveals that Dany is AA/PTWP/SWMTW (even though, IMO, the foreshadowing is way too overwhelming for it not to be her).

Speculating about Dany being the YMBQ is fun for me because it requires delving into her characterization, her parallels with Cersei and canon material in general. On the other hand, speculating about how this would actually happen is, IMO, less interesting (though I still enjoy reading what other people have to say) because it’s hard to accurately predict future plot points with the current information that we have (and I resent how fandom already accepts so many theories as unpublished canon). Dany has too many places to be and too many things to do and it’s not certain that she’ll be in King’s Landing when it burns (though I tend to think she will for the aforementioned reasons), the second dance of dragons can refer to different confrontations, it’s not certain that Dany needs to meet Cersei (or Young Griff or Stannis) to fulfill all these prophecies and it’s not certain that Dany is going to be explicitly revealed as the person who fulfills all these prophecies. We still have two books worth of plot development, so I really don’t think it’s possible to predict how the actual events will unfold. Sorry about not being able to give more definitive answers... I actually ended up making more questions. But that's kind of the point for now.

#daenerys targaryen #young griff #cersei lannister #asoiaf meta #asoiaf speculation #answered

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ladycatofwinterfell · 3 years

Text

There are clouds on my sky

After Sansa accidentally comes out as a lesbian to her parents she has a talk with her dad. Little did she know he understands exactly what she’s going through

This fic has mentions of homophobia and fear of not being accepted, so if that doesn’t feel right to read for you, please skip this one. And also, I just want to say that I can only write based on my own feelings and experiences, but that is different to everyone and this is not accurate for every LGBTQ+ person

But anyway, happy pride month, I wish everyone the very best <33

“You’ll have to take me out again soon” Jeyne smiled.

Sansa smiled as well. She had never really thought about what walking on sunshine would be like, but in the moment she was sure of that she was doing it. She was walking on sunshine. She was made of sunshine. Jeyne was nothing like anyone Sansa had met before. She was amazing.

They had had a picnic at the beach. And it had been just perfect. They had brought strawberries and mangoes and pineapple. All the best fruits. Though their sweetness had been nothing compared to Jeyne. Jeyne had kissed her. She could barely think about it without blushing. Oh she was in love. She had to be. There was no other explanation for her feelings.

“I promise” Sansa said, trying not to grin like an idiot.

She was probably failing.

“Good.”

That sight. Jeyne, a flower in her hair, standing in the sun with a smile on her face. Sansa had never seen anything more beautiful.

In a moment of courage, or maybe recklessness, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Jeyne’s lips. She could feel Jeyne’s hands on her shoulders and Sansa laid her hands on her arms. She was warm, and real, and just so utterly perfect.

“Bye” Jeyne said when they parted.

“Bye.”

She watched as Jeyne walked down the street. She looked after her until she took a turn and disappeared behind a house. The whole world was made of sunshine and rainbows and everything good.

That was until Sansa turned to walk up the driveway to her house and met the eyes of her mother.

Mom was standing on the porch. Sansa couldn’t read her face. Her heart dropped in her chest. Her mother always had her feelings on the outside, why did she just look empty?

“Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to intrude” Mom said.

She hated her. Her mom hated her. Her mom was disgusted by her. Her mom had just had her worst nightmare confirmed. That had to be it. Did she even want to be Sansa’s mother anymore?

Sansa had many times imagined how she would come out. She had had it all planned out in her head. She was going to bake a pride cake and she was going to sit down and tell them and it would be good. They would accept her and they would be happy for her.

She had not imagined she would come out by accidentally kissing a girl in front of her mother. And she had not thought her mother would be disgusted by it. She had not thought Mom would mind. She was fine with her Uncle Brynden, and Uncle Benjen. She had smiled widely when Jon introduced them to his boyfriend Satin. Why did she hate her?

“I was going to tell you” Sansa said, trying to keep the tears burning in her eyes under control. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not what you want me to be.”

“What are you..? Oh.”

Mom’s face softened. She walked down the stairs and came over to Sansa, pulling her into a hug. She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t. She could just cry against her mother’s shoulder. Mom held her tightly while she was shaking with sobs.

“Don’t be sorry, my darling girl. Never apologize for who you are. I’m the one who should be sorry, and I am, I am sorry for making you believe that I’m disappointed in you. For making you believe that I don’t accept you for this. I love you, and I always will. No matter what. Do you understand?”

Sansa nodded, holding onto Mom a little tighter. She was afraid, she could still feel her heart beating in her chest.

“You don’t hate me?” she sniffled.

“Of course not, Sansa. How could I ever hate you for who you love? It’s the most natural thing in the world.”

Neither of them said anything after that. They just stood there, Sansa wrapped into Mom’s arms. It felt good to have someone stroke her hair and softly hush her until she could breathe again.

“I’m sorry for one more thing, actually” Mom said and drew back slightly to look at her.

Sansa looked back at her. Looked at her face.

“What?”

“I’m sorry for that you did not get to do this at your own terms and when you were ready.”

Sansa saw a movement next to Mom’s face and when she turned her eyes towards it she saw her father. Mom also turned to see what Sansa was looking at.

“You don’t have to say anything unless you don’t want to” she said.

Dad tilted his head slightly to the side, clearly not wanting to ask. But she was ready, she had been ready before. She had just been taken by surprise. She had been surprised and afraid.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Sansa?”

She took a deep breath. In and out.

“I’m a lesbian.”

Her father merely raised his eyebrows.

“Okay, would you like to talk about it?”

She didn’t know what reaction she had expected, but she was sure of that that wasn’t it.

“What do you mean?”

What was there to talk about? She had said it, it was out there, there was really nothing to talk about. She understood that they accepted her, but could they really understand her? She loved them, they were her parents, but they were also in a wildly heterosexual marriage.

“I mean that I might have more insight in this than you know.”

“You’re confusing me.”

Mom only smiled and kissed her temple.

“I’ll leave you two to it” she said.

She walked back to the porch and disappaered into the house again, closing the door behind her. Dad sat on the top of the stairs and gestured for Sansa to come sit next to him. She wouldn’t lie to herself, she was quite curious. So she slowly walked over to the porch and sat next to him.

“Now when you have told me something about you, I would like to tell you something about me” he said, looking up at the clear sky.

“And what is that?”

“Sansa?”

“Yes, Dad?”

There was a pause before his answer.

“I’m bisexual.”

That was a surprise. To say the least. She had never heard him, or anyone, say anything that I suggested that he was anything other than straight. Though she supposed that was just buying into the heteronormativity. Assuming without knowing. Though she hadn’t exactly been going on nothing.

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Mhm. I dated a guy before I met your mother.”

“I didn’t know that.”

When she thought of it she had barely seen any photos from before he and Mom were together. And it never really occurred to her that they must have been with others before they met each other. It was reasonable. But in Sansa’s mind it had always been them. Maybe because as long as she had lived it had been them.

“That’s not so strange, I barely talk about it anymore. I’ll always be proud of who I am, but I prefer to keep it among people I trust.”

“Did your family know?”

Sansa had told her siblings and Jon a month or two earlier. She had made them promise not to tell anyone else, and they hadn’t. She hadn’t really wanted others to know. She had seen what others her age sometimes said and did to people who were gay. She almost had trouble breathing just from thinking about it. And she couldn’t even imagine how it had been for Dad. Things were better than they had been before. She could trust her family. She could trust her friends.

“They did.”

“How did they find out? And what did they think of it?”

Dad sighed, suddenly looking sad. And before he even said anything Sansa knew. Her fears had been his reality. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked that. But she had really wanted to know what it had been like for him, she had never talked to anyone else about it before.

“My brothers and my sister didn’t really care. I was their brother no matter what, but my parents were more... well, they leaned towards the conservative side. I wasn’t planning on telling them, but a friend of theirs saw me and my boyfriend at the time in a restaurant, and told them. What happened after that wasn’t very pretty. But I don’t want you to think about that, I want you to focus on the beautiful thing in finding yourself and who you are.”

He smiled at her then and ruffled her hair.

“That might just be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard” Sansa muttered when she reached up to fix her hair again. “‘Beautiful thing in finding yourself’, ugh.”

“Ah, you’re Catelyn’s daughter” Dad chuckled.

It was a relief to hear that and know that it was true in everyone’s hearts. She was her mother’s daughter, her mother didn’t hate her.

“Though it is nice. Understanding yourself” she said.

For so long she had thought that there was just something wrong with her. Every time she thought about being with a boy it didn’t feel right at all. While her friends were all gushing about cute boys she had been trying so hard to understand, but she hadn’t. And then she had been horrified when she realized that what they thought about boys she thought about girls. It took her time to come to terms with it, but once she had it just felt right. It felt like she was finally where she was supposed to be. Though once she had reached that place she had also been afraid of that others wouldn’t think it was right.

“It’s very nice” he agreed.

“I didn’t understand for so long, but now I do and it’s the greatest feeling in the world. Everything felt wrong, and now it doesn’t anymore. I was just afraid you wouldn’t understand.”

“I get that. But long ago I decided that no matter what my kids turned out to be I would love and accept them. Because every child should be loved and accepted, making your child feel otherwise is inhumane. And I wish the world was a better place, I wish you didn’t have to be afraid of people not accepting you. If I could protect you from the people wishing harm upon people like us I would. And I’m sorry I can’t. I hate that I can’t.”

“It’s not your fault, Dad. But it’s scary. That moment when Mom was looking at me and I... I thought she didn’t accept me. I thought she hated me. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to handle the thought of that she didn’t like what I am.”

She could feel the tears rise in her eyes again. Dad just moved closer to her and pulled her into a one armed hug. She leaned into it and rested her head on his shoulder. When had she last hugged her dad like that? She didn’t know.

“She was very supportive when I told her that the man that everyone thought had been my best friend had actually been my boyfriend. She can’t fully understand, but she has stood by my side and supported me for very many years now, and I wouldn’t want her anywhere else. I love her.”

“Like you loved him?” she asked.

“I have never loved anyone like I love your mother, but I did love him too. It took me a long time to realize, and a long time to come to terms with it, but once I did I was happy to love him. And when that was over and in the past it was hard to realize that I loved your mother. Because how could I love her when she was a woman and I had loved a man before that? You see, no one had explained bisexuality to me so I had to figure it out on my own. Most people thought that you were either gay or straight and that there were nothing else. But once I understood that it was fully possible to love both I was happy to love her as well.”

It was like it had been for her. She was glad she had him. She was glad he told her about his experience. It made it a little easier. She was glad he and Mom weren’t like her grandparents had been.

“I’m happy to love Jeyne” Sansa said.

“Is that her name?”

She couldn’t help but smile then. Just the thought of Jeyne made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. What would she have done if she had not met Jeyne?

“Yes. I met her when I was working at the cafe this spring. She’s wonderful.”

“I’m sure she is.”

“All through my childhood I have seen the way you and Mom look at each other. And I have known that no matter who I am with, I want that person to look at me that way. And it feels like I have found it.”

“Then I’m so very happy for you, Sansa.”

“Thank you. I’ll take her here someday so that you can meet her. You’ll love her too, there’s nothing about her that’s not to love.”

Dad kissed her forehead.

“I hope that maybe society is better than it was when I was your age” he mumbled. “And I’ll never let what happened to me happen to you.”

“Does it still hurt you?”

“Sometimes. I most often remember my parents as good people, but sometimes that can be hard. Because even though they eventually accepted that I wouldn’t change for them and tried to be okay with it because they were my parents and they loved me, that initial part still hurt a great deal. I try not to feel guilty for who I am, but it can be hard as well. Most often it doesn’t hurt though, not anymore. I’m at a good place now, I’m surrounded by great people and my lovely family. And you’ll be too. But from the beginning.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s really the bare minimum.”

She raised her head to look at him.

“No, I mean thank you for telling me. It was, well, not exactly nice, but it felt good to hear. And it means a lot to me.”

Some part of it had been terrible to hear, some things she wished had never happened to her dad. But she felt lighter than she had been before. She felt more understood. And she couldn’t for a moment think that they didn’t accept her.

“There’s so much more that I can’t say, stuff that you need to figure out on your own. I just wanted you to know that you’re not alone and that I’m always here for you no matter what. Mom is, as well.”

“I know that now and I have a question that you might be able to answer.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Do you ever feel like you’re not really what you are? Like, do you doubt that you’re bisexual sometimes? Because sometimes I feel like that.”

She had been overcome with that several times. The feeling of that she was some sort of imposter, that she didn’t deserve to call herself a lesbian.

“I don’t, but I know others have. Some people were happy to hiss at me like I was a tratior for falling in love with and marrying a woman. And others were happy to see that I had finally abandoned the gay, sinful, part of myself and turned straight. People will try to make you doubt yourself, don’t listen to them, Sansa. Listen to yourself and do what feels right for you.”

“And what if I realize that I’m not a lesbian? What do I do then?”

That was another thing she was terrified for.

“That’s entirely alright. Change your label if you feel like your current one doesn’t suit you. You can even choose not to label yourself at all, if you feel better that way. This really is different for everyone, just do your thing.”

“Is it really that easy?”

“Yeah.”

Sansa smiled and hugged him again. Properly that time, with both her arms. Dad hugged her back, held her.

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Sansa.”

#sansa stark #ned stark #catelyn stark #ned x cat #sansa x jeyne #jeyne poole #my fic #lesbian sansa and bi ned hold my heart in their queer hands #i don't really know why but i cried uncontrollably while writing this #i was a mess #happy pride 🌈

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