#ygritte mention
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It’s important that the first revelation of Nissa Nissa is accompanied by some level of skepticism from Salladhor Saan and aversion on Davos’ part. It doesn’t sound right that Azor Ahai chose to sacrifice his wife for a magic sword. It shouldn’t sound right.
“A hundred days and a hundred nights he labored on the third blade, and as it glowed white-hot in the sacred fires, he summoned his wife. ‘Nissa Nissa,’ he said to her, for that was her name, ‘bare your breast, and know that I love you best of all that is in this world.’ She did this thing, why I cannot say, and Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel. Such is the tale of the forging of Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes.
“Now do you see my meaning? Be glad that it is just a burnt sword that His Grace pulled from that fire. Too much light can hurt the eyes, my friend, and fire burns.” Salladhor Saan finished the last grape and smacked his lips. “When do you think the king will bid us sail, good ser?”
[…] A true sword of fire, now, that would be a wonder to behold. Yet at such a cost … When he thought of Nissa Nissa, it was his own Marya he pictured, a good-natured plump woman with sagging breasts and a kindly smile, the best woman in the world. He tried to picture himself driving a sword through her, and shuddered. I am not made of the stuff of heroes, he decided. If that was the price of a magic sword, it was more than he cared to pay.
Not only does it not make sense that Nissa Nissa would agree to her husband’s request, it’s also telling how Salladhor Saan expresses relief in knowing that King Stannis didn’t actually forge Lightbringer. Because forging Lightbringer means human sacrifice. And why should one be deprived of their life, even if it’s for a magic sword? Davos is very right to be creeped out by it.
The theme of sacrifice shows up quite a bit in ASOIAF and Davos I isn’t the first or last time. The very first chapter in the series, Bran I, tackles this idea with Jon and the direwolves.
“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him call Father that, so formal. Bran looked at him with desperate hope. “There are five pups,” he told Father. “Three male, two female.”
“What of it, Jon?”
“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”
Bran saw his father’s face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow, the name that custom decreed be given to all those in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own.
Their father understood as well. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” he asked softly.
“The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. “I am no Stark, Father.”
Jon, though he may desperately desire to have his own piece of magic, would not sacrifice his siblings for it. He wouldn’t dare to deprave the girls, Arya and Sansa, of their own magic even when it might be very easy to do so. This is a pretty stark contrast (pun intended) to Azor Ahai and his Nissa Nissa. Azor Ahai’s first line of thought was to sacrifice his wife whereas Jon’s was to sacrifice himself. Sure Azor Ahai got his magic sword, but Jon’s self-sacrifice is not in vain either because he later earns his own wolf, who turns out to be even more special than the rest in the pack.
Bran IV kind of alludes to the idea of self sacrifice through Old Nan’s retelling of the last hero:
So as cold and death filled the earth, the last hero determined to seek out the children, in the hopes that their ancient magics could win back what the armies of men had lost. He set out into the dead lands with a sword, a horse, a dog, and a dozen companions. For years he searched, until he despaired of ever finding the children of the forest in their secret cities. One by one his friends died, and his horse, and finally even his dog, and his sword froze so hard the blade snapped when he tried to use it. And the Others smelled the hot blood in him, and came silent on his trail, stalking him with packs of pale white spiders big as hounds—”
Though the one we know is called the “last hero”, notice that it’s not a title but a mere descriptor; there were many heroes before him who died and he was the last one standing. There is a human toll in this legend, but it’s implied to be self sacrifice. It’s also interesting that though there is mention of a blade, it is the children of the forest’s magic that is key. This does kind of bleed into what we know about the Night’s Watch and its relation to the long night. The Night’s Watch victory was a group effort, rather than the actions of any one man.
We have several legends surrounding the long night that work, but only one involves the cost of sacrificing someone else (that we know of). This might be where GRRM is headed with Stannis and his creation of Lightbringer. Sure Azor Ahai did get his magic sword, but it doesn’t negate the steep human cost. GRRM has lowkey confirmed that Stannis is sure to burn Shireen. And rather than this sacrifice not working, I think it’s more likely that it does work. Stannis does indeed create the flaming sword. But this will be directly weighed by other (self) sacrifices made for the same purpose. Stannis’ sacrifice of his daughter won’t work any better than other characters who choose to sacrifice themselves even when knowing that they are not going to go down as individual legends; I think Jon Snow will once again be the prime example of this, as he has already resigned himself to being a shadow in history despite initially wanting the opposite. Maester Aemon was right in saying that
[…] all deceive ourselves, when we want to believe. Melisandre most of all, I think. The sword is wrong, she has to know that … light without heat … an empty glamor … the sword is wrong, and the false light can only lead us deeper into darkness, Sam
The sword is wrong. Azor Ahai is NOT one to be emulated. Rather, he should be a cautionary tale. He is not any more special for his sacrifice than what the last hero or the men of the Night’s Watch did, even though we know his name but don’t know theirs. GRRM answered the question regarding sacrifice before he even posed it. To make someone else pay the price is flat out wrong. The only true and worthy sacrifice is really that of the self.
#asoiaf#valyrianscrolls#azor ahai#the last hero#stannis baratheon#jon snow#the night's watch#didn’t put in the post but if Jon’s ADWD dream turns out to be true and he does gain his own flaming sword i tend to think he’ll get it#by giving up himself or part of himself in the process#jon is perhaps the most self sacrificial character in this series#which is why theories that dany will be his nissa nissa miss the mark almost entirely#if jon is to be a hero he will do it by sacrificing himself not someone else#he already demonstrated this in agot when he refused a direwolf and again in adwd when he refused winterfell#stannis is meant to be his foil so we could see them being weighed against each other#not to mention that jon’s adwd dream is very much a last hero retelling with references to his companions falling#and him outlasting them though there’s a really interesting reference to him killing robb and ygritte#but I think it’s more to do with killing his own desires to remain at the wall - in addition to his feelings of guilt and abandonment
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GRRM describes Sansa's hair as "browny red" in a Brienne chapter. Even he thinks it's more red than brown. Arya says the Tullies have "fire in their hair" . That's not a description for the pictures you think of as auburn. Those are just brown.
But fine, here's another comparison.
This is ginger.
This is auburn.
This is brown.
Is that better?
#not to mention there's a clear discrepancy in the way people talk about Tully hair compared to say Ygritte or the Redwynes#love redheads! And clearly GRRM does too! Just highlighting the difference#if auburn was just red that quote wouldn't have the word ''brown'' in it#ergo. please more art of the Tullys and Starklings not looking like the Weasleys thanks
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ygritte & jon ( @ofxscavengcrs )
❝ is there no way to escape from washington dc? ❞ ygritte asked jon, shook her head as tears filled her eyes. why did she feel this sadness all of sudden? she had seen death before, many. and this affected her? why! ❝ we can't keep livin' here, jon snow. it's dangerous, our old home was too, but this is not normal. death happened every day, not as this. somethin' is not right ❞
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a closed starter for ygritte ( @misteriios )
"can i be honest with you, darling?" the question was rhetorical as ana planned to say her piece with or without the other's permission. "i don't see what the big deal is. so some people died," she said in a blasé manner. "they're alive now, shouldn't that be all that matters?"
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hey bestie!!! Going feral thinkin about Boy Pet WHORE again this weekened!!
REAL REAL REAL this is us
ive explained jonsatin to three of my friends AND my sister. it makes me so crazy but also im very normal about it. but also im crazy
#everyone agrees its a little funny#its mostly crack and tinfoil but like. SUPREMELY funny and undeniable that its jon's happiest choice post-ygritte#boy pet whore... what 16 year old thinks that. thats insane phrasing insane train of thought imo#me delusional going idk grrm is gardening!!!#i gotta find old threads and see if normal people not on tumblr mentioned it post adwd coming out#i need proof im not crazy (i am)#ask#anonymous#mwah anon<3
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violentines event starter for sha hualing & ygritte // @mischiefxmuses
"Busy murdering anyone at the moment, or would you be interested in helping me smash these windows?” she asks the other, hoisting a brick from the street in one free hand. Frightened little humans can lock the doors of these storefronts all they like, but there’ll be nowhere to hide once the windows are shattered to pieces. Sha Hualing’s own target isn’t in there as far as she knows, of course, but-- isn’t it her duty to help others find ease in their own chase? More importantly, it sounds fun.
#violentines minievent#;; shl ;;#;; sha hualing speaks to ygritte ;;#murder mention tw#violence mention tw
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@mischiefxmuses asked: ↱ = being lost with them . - Ygritte and Lyanna
“let’s go, ygritte. i refuse to end up dead because i decided to run to the store. you can wait it out at my place.”
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❛ we’ve been through a lot. i think we should just lay low and take it easy. ❜ (jon and ygritte)
𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒
"We have indeed." Ygritte took his hands in hers. "Alright well I am new to the whole taking things easy and laying low so what do you suggest?" Back at home they were always moving, never having a chance to relax. You slow down beyond the wall you die.
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𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jon snow
summary ― .ﾟ ˖ in which jon wanders too far north of the wall into free folk territory and is put under your supervision, mance rayder's daughter, after your voluntary offer of him staying in your tent. you never thought you would be willing to bunk with a crow, but of course, there's a first for everything.
warnings ― .ﾟ ˖ MINORS DNI ! ( 18+ ) | language, graphic smut, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it y'all ), inexperienced!jon, reader taking jon's virginity, little bit of subby!jon, riding, handjob, mentions of blood ( reader bites jon's lip on accident whoops ), oral ( f! recieving ), jon having a praise k!nk, jon having literally no self-control, reader calling jon a crow about a thousand times lmao, minimal use of Y/N, lmk if i missed anything!
word count ― .ﾟ ˖ 3k +
pairing ― .ﾟ ˖ jon snow x fem!rayder!reader.
author’s note ― .ﾟ ˖ jon snow is so babygirl
honestly loved writing this, lmk what you think! also, should i make a part two with ygritte involved ?? wink wink
publishing date ― .ﾟ ˖ june 26th, 2023 | © HEARTSHAPEDMISERY
When you first saw the darkness of his furs sticking out so flamboyantly against the white of the northern snow, you knew Ygritte had struck gold on her hunt with the others.
You watched with a cautious but intrigued look on your face as she pulled him along behind her by a long rope tied around his hands, cradling a longsword in the crook of her arm with a wide smile on her face. But, the look on the crow's face seemed to be the total opposite.
Everything about him was dark, from his ratted furs to his hair that looked like it hadn't been given a good wash in ages, to even the disgruntled frown that didn't seem to leave his face until Ygritte finally untied him from his restraints. He was a crow, through and through.
You had seen plenty men of the Night's Watch before―even killed a few―but the one who stood before you as you made your way into your father's council tent was different. His eyes were a deep, darling brown, holding a youth that couldn't have been any older than your own. Most of the crows you had captured were all old and gray, not nearly as attractive and brooding as this one.
You didn't know there was such a thing.
"Where'd you find this one?" you whispered to Ygritte, your voice low enough for only her ears, your eyes raking over his figure that seemed disproportioned from the thick of the furs and leathers he wore.
"About a few miles north of the wall," she told you, watching him just as closely as you were. "He was just too pretty to pass up." The two of you shared a laugh as she handed you the young crow's sword, heavy and dull in its scabbard.
The Lord of Bones pushed him roughly towards the man sitting in the center of the tent, biting into a hunk of meat as if it were his last meal.
"I smell a crow," Tormund muffled with his mouth full, turning his head barely enough to get a good look at the young man. His scowl hadn't changed, if anything worsened since being shoved into the large tent.
His name had been Jon Snow, which he revealed to Tormund just before kneeling before him and muttering your grace. The entire tent seemed to bustle with laughter at the attempt of respect, you and Ygritte sending each other a knowing look as the crow's face reddened with embarrassment. Tormund may have looked and fought like one, but he was no king.
"Stand boy," a voice hidden in the back of the tent sounded, silencing everyone in the room within a matter of seconds. Your father, Mance Rayder, unveiled himself from the shadowy corner room behind Tormund, looking down upon Jon Snow as he stood.
Jon was quick to rise to his feet, looking up at him as the man stood taller than even Tormund. "We don't kneel for anyone beyond the wall."
Slowly, you moved towards your father from Ygritte's side, resting your hands on the hilt of the crow's sword as you allowed it to stand in front of you. Your father always valued your opinion when coming to decisions over the free folk, and this matter was no different.
Your eyes had hardened by now, catching Jon's gaze with a look that could only be interpreted as defensive. No matter how pretty you thought he was, he was still a man of the Night's watch. Your enemy infiltrating your land.
You watched him carefully as he went on to explain why he had left the Night's Watch, telling your father about the things he had seen in Craster's Keep.
"And why would that make you want to abandon your brothers?" Mance asked, his voice low and gravelly. His words seemed to intimidate the young man, his eyes flitting away from your father's before moving back to them hesitantly.
"Answer the question," you growled, leaning in towards him with a malice that couldn't help but send a chill down his spine. His eyes shot to yours, wondering why you were making such commands in the presence of Mance Rayder.
He explained how the Night's Watch did nothing to prevent Craster from giving up his newborn son to the white walkers, creatures that had been known to be gone for centuries.
"I want to fight for the side that fights for the living," he told your father, sparing you only a quick look as you stepped back to Mance's side. "Did I come to the right place?"
Mance mulled over the boy's words before looking down at you, the look on his face clear that he wanted your opinion. "What do you say, girl? Shall the baby crow stay?"
As you held his sword close to your chest, you stepped closer to Jon, your face inches from his as you gave him a good look over. He seemed nervous, his breathy shaky as it blew past his lips.
"I say he can," you paused, circling around him before meeting his gaze once more with a sly smrik on your lips. "But he stays with me."
He didn't speak much to you at first―or anyone really―only saying a few words when needed to and biting his tongue when you made some snide remark or called him a crow.
Since you had taken the responsibility of monitoring him, you practically stuck to Jon like glue until nightfall―as did many other girls in your camp, including Ygritte. She was an exception, but you had to keep running the rest of them off since their eagerness to catch a glimpse of him drove them to fights and quarrels in the snow.
Not to degrade any of the people in your camp, but men that looked like Jon Snow were not a common sight in free folk territory.
After showing him around the camp and getting him a new set of furs made of polar bear skin and boiled leather, you eventually gave him Longclaw back―which was what he called that heavy sword of his. He was grateful, but his disgruntled frown hardly left his face.
"Lose the frown, Jon Snow," you had told him as he joined you and Ygritte for dinner around the fire you had built near your tent. "You're not in the South anymore. There's no need to look so miserable."
When nightfall finally took the sky, you escorted Jon to your tent with a mischievous smirk on your face, earning looks from other wilding girls―most of them being of annoyance or jealousy. Their glares didn't go unnoticed by Jon, a look of confusion and concern evident on his face.
"Are they always like this?" he asked sheepishly, looking over his shoulder as the two of you stood still in front of the flaps of your tent.
You couldn't help but laugh, the scowls on their faces feral and sour as you led him into your tent.
"You're the first pretty crow they've seen in ages, Jon Snow," you told him with a grin. "They'll claw each other's eyes out to lay naked with you."
Your words seemed to surprise him, but he didn't say anything as a reddish tint rose in his cheeks. He had never been with a girl, he was too young before he joined The Watch, and his vows forbade him from lying with a woman. He had never gotten the chance, so the idea couldn't help but intrigue him.
"Your furs are over there," you pointed to the makeshift bed across from yours, "Though I know you'll be far much warmer over here with me."
He disregarded your comment, silent as he made his way over to his side of the tent and tried not to think too hard about laying with you.
It wasn't a large tent, your furs only a mere few feet from his. You still laid rather close despite being on separate sides.
Beginning to undo your outer layers and shedding them off, you were left in only a thin undershirt and pants that barely left anything to the imagination as you sat across from him.
Jon's eyes widened.
You could feel his eyes on you, his cheeks flushed at the sight of your hardened nipples poking through the fabric as you reached over to light a few candles between the two of you to brighten up the tent. He felt a sting of guilt run through his chest; he didn't want to betray his vows, or even think about betraying them, but you were making it very difficult for him to abstain on his side of the tent.
"What, have you never seen a woman's body before, crow?" you said playfully as you undid your hair from the braid it had been pulled back in all day, tousling it with your tired fingers to get ready for bed.
Jon only widened his eyes, gulping rather harshly as his lips parted, catching your eyes that seemed to be filled with nothing but seduction.
"What do you care?" he looked away, the tension too much for him to bare. His cheeks were flaming red at this point, embarrassment flaring in his chest. He could feel his hard-on begin to grow under his thick trousers, hoping to the Old Gods you couldn't see.
"Oh, right," you said sarcastically. "The Night's Watch will hack your hand off if you even think about touching a woman, is that right? Miserable bastards."
Jon tried to protest, his words caught dead in his mouth as you cut him off abruptly.
"Have you ever laid with a woman, Jon Snow?" you asked lowly, sitting up from your spot on your warm furs before slowly starting to crawl over to him, sultry laced thickly in your voice.
He shook his head, his eyes wide and blown out with lust. You were dangerously close to him, sitting down in front of him with your legs tucked neatly beneath you as you leaned in towards him.
"Do you want to?" you said slyly, your lips inches from his.
Your hand slowly reached out for his, grasping it gently before bringing it to your breast and allowing him to cup it. A shaky sigh blew past his plump lips, his gaze flitting down to your chest as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your sensitive nipple gently.
The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even think. Before he could remember the vow that he had made not long ago. Your sweet scent of firewood and pine was like truth serum to his senses. "More than anything."
His gentle, pleading words were enough for you to bring your lips to his, enveloping in the taste of him as you moved swiftly onto his lap, lips moving in sync hungrily as if he would be your last.
His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard chest. As you lowered your hips down onto his lap, you could feel him hard against your core, making you gasp in surprise.
You laughed gently under your breath in excitement as his eyes fluttered shut, not being able to help yourself as you began to slowly grind against him, earning a low and shaky whimper from his throat.
It was like music to your ears; his soft whimpers and pants. When you had been with other wildling men, they grunted and groaned as they worked their way in and out of you, almost animalistic. Jon was different.
"Do you like it when I do this?" You cooed in his ear. His moans were soft and desperate as he yearned for more of your touch, his hands gentle and needy as they grasped at your hips and worked you across his lap slowly.
He had no idea how much of an effect it had on you. How his exasperated pants made something foreign blossom in your chest and spread down to your lower half.
"Please," he begged as he pulled away from your lips, looking up at you with an adoration you had never seen from any free folk. You had him wrapped around your finger, drunk on your warm touch. Nothing could've riled you up more.
"You can have me however you want," you promised him, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. Slowly, you pulled your undershirt off over your head before wriggling out of your thin pants, leaving your body bare and on display for him. "You're mine now, Jon Snow."
Your hand traveled down slowly between your bodies, running over the front of his trousers and cupping his hard-on, dancing your fingers across it tauntingly. "But first, let me help you with this."
Your fingers quickly worked at the ties at his trousers, pulling it open and helping him get rid of them before assisting him in removing his heavy furs and leathers and throwing them to the side, leaving him bare and warm beneath you, his pale, toned skin burning against your own.
Carefully, you sat back down on his lap, sitting at the edge of his knees so you could get a good look at him splayed out before you. Excitement buzzed in your chest at the sight of his reddened tip, leaking with precum practically begging to be touched.
With a soft look, your hand grasped his hardened cock gently, making him shudder at the sudden contact.
The feeling was foreign to him; Sure, he had used his own hand once or twice to relieve himself when he was feeling desperate, but his calloused and thick hands didn't compare to your small, soft, and experienced ones as you began to pump him gently.
"O-Oh," he sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as you rubbed him carefully, allowing your forehead to press gently to his. You could feel his soft, warm pants fanning against your face, gentle moans falling from his lips every so often.
"You're so good for me," you whispered to him, your thumb running over the slit at the head of his cock, earning a shaky gasp from him. Your lips peppered kisses against his, before moving slowly to his cheeks and working your way down his jaw tauntingly.
The feeling of your lips leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along the skin of his neck and collarbone made him ecstatic. He didn't know what he had done to earn such a heavenly gift from the gods, but he knew he never wanted this to end. He never wanted to be without your touch.
"F-Fuck," he whined, entranced by the look of desire in your eyes as you rubbed him.
His toned stomach contracted gently, his abs tensing as he inched closer and closer to his release. His moans became more guttural, incoherent mumbles to the sound of your name filling your ears.
"I'm g-gonna-" he warned, his eyes fluttering shut. But, before he could finish his sentence, hot, white spurts of his release shot onto his stomach, painting him sinfully as a shaky groan rumbled in his chest in response. It lit something inside you, the way he trembled beneath your touch and moaned your name as if it were a prayer. You could drown in it.
Carefully, you reached for the undershirt you had thrown off and wiped his stomach clean, not caring you had dirtied it and would have to wash it by hand on the morrow.
A calm silence fell between you, allowing his forehead to fall to the crook of your neck as his hands snaked around your waist, pulling your chest flush against his. Your warmth was something he wanted to live in forever. He never wanted to leave this tent.
"You're so-" he mumbled against your skin, his breath faltering as he tried to find the right words. "You're so good at that."
You couldn't help but blush. The way he worshipped you made you ecstatic, your hands raking through his dark curls as you tilted his head up to look at you.
"Can I kiss you?" he rasped. His eyes were full of want, his eyebrows pulling together slightly as he pawed at the flesh of your thigh. Carefully, you moved to bring your lips to his with a wide grin but he stopped you, pulling his head to the side tauntingly.
He shook his head gently. "Not there."
You didn't understand what he meant. Kiss you where?
Cautiously, he pulled you off of his lap and laid you down on the soft furs, his body hovering over yours as he slotted himself in between your legs.
He began to make his way down your body with gentle kisses, nipping at your supple skin as he trailed from the crook of your neck to all the way down between your plush thighs, leaving little love bites in the wake of his mouth as he inched dangerously close to where you needed him most.
"Getting brave, aren't we?" you taunt, his hands moving to tuck your legs onto his shoulders before he gripped your hips with both of his hands firmly, holding you in place as you could feel his warm breath fanning against your glistening core.
He ignored your snide remark, wasting no time before licking a clean stripe against your cunt and beginning to work away at you, his eyes fluttering shut at the sound of your euphoric moans.
Your face contorted with pleasure as you felt his lips wrap around your clit, gently sucking at it, before cautiously bringing his middle and ring fingers to your core and allowing them to curl in an upward motion blissfully.
You had never felt anything like this before. The way his tongue moved against your folds made you ecstatic, wondering what they put in the southern water to make him so good at what he was doing.
"J-Jon," you gasped, your fingers combing through his dark locks and giving them a good tug, earning a moan from him as it vibrated against your core and only pushed you closer to your high. Your thighs clenched around his head in an attempt to pull him closer to you, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit just enough to make you jolt with a shaky gasp.
He enticed moans out of you like never before, licking and sucking at your core in ways you didn't even know were possible. He seemed so skilled for claiming to have never touched a woman before. Could he have been lying to you?
Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head as you saw his hips begin to grind slowly against the furs as he lapped away at your core, his cock hard once more from the sweet taste of you. Moans grumbled in his chest as he squeezed your thighs tighter, his fingers sure to leave bruises on your supple skin.
The abrupt feeling of his fingers pulling out of your core made you whine. But his tongue entering you was enough to make you see stars, your back arching up off the soft furs as you could feel the tight coil in your stomach begin to snap.
Your wanton moans filled his ears, loud enough to be heard by the rest of the camp, but you didn't care. Your only concern was him and your climax—which wasn't far off.
"Gods!" your heel dug into the middle of his muscular back as you gripped the furs at your side, your orgasm washing over you unlike ever before. Your thighs trembled gently around Jon's head, his mouth pulling away from your core, his chin glistening with your release as he watched you with a lazy smile while you writhed in pleasure before him.
He pulled himself up so he was hovering over you once more, his face a mere few inches from yours as your chest heaved up and down, coming down from your high. Your eyelids felt heavy as he gripped your hip, and the sheer look of lust in his eyes made your lips crash against his hungrily.
You could taste your release on his lips as his tongue slipped into your mouth, not even thinking before wrapping your legs around his waist and flipping him over on the furs, now sitting on his lap as he laid breathlessly beneath you.
You smiled at the way he looked up at you with want, his hands playing with the flesh of your ass impatiently. His hardened cock beneath your wet core made it hard for you to concentrate, but you still managed to roll your hips against his tauntingly.
"Just lay there, sweet. Let me give you what you want," you rasped, your hands splayed flat on his chest as your teasing became nearly unbearable for him.
"Please," he pleaded. "I need to feel you."
Slowly, you brought your hand to grasp him gently, giving him a few pumps before guiding him towards your entrance as you hovered over him, your eyes not leaving his as you sank down onto him.
Relieved moans left your mouths in unison, your cunt stretching around him sweeter than he could imagine. Your warmth made his heart flutter, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he waited for you to move.
Soft whimpers filled the space between you as your hips slowly began to roll across his lap, your nails raking down the front of his toned chest as you fell into a steady pace. His mind was fogged with the sheer sight of you on top of him, finding the gentle bounce of your breasts with every movement entrancing.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he breathed, his head falling back as he screwed his eyes shut, which couldn't help but send a wave of pleasure straight to your core. You couldn't help yourself when your fingers trailed to your clit and began to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves back and forth, clenching around his length with each roll of your hips.
"Gods," he cursed, sitting up from his spot on the soft furs as you still guided your hips back and forth on his cock.
Your arm automatically slung around his broad shoulders as his own pulled you closer to him by your waist while he propped himself up with his free hand, allowing him to thrust up inside of you and reach deeper than before.
The way the tip of his cock just barely brushed your cervix enraptured you. You were finding it very hard to believe that he had never done this before.
"Right there," you panted out, gripping his bare shoulder so hard your fingernails were sure to leave tiny crescent indents in his skin. His pace quickened, slowly becoming more desperate and sloppy as your moans grew with it. You were sure the entire camp could've heard the lot of you by now.
His lips met yours in an instant, a poor attempt on Jon's part at silencing you as best he could. You allowed his tongue to roam your mouth, your fingers collecting at the nape of his neck to hold him closer to you. But to his surprise―with a sudden thrust of his hips―your teeth caught his bottom lip with a moan.
"Ahh," he hissed, the metallic taste of blood collecting at the front of his mouth. He pulled back, panting heavily as the look of lust didn't leave his eyes. Your lips were reddened and wet, and the way your tongue poked out barely to wipe them clean made a low groan rumble in his chest.
Within an instant, he smashed his lips back onto yours, pushing you back so you were laying flat on the furs now with his hips between your legs, his length still inside of you as he wasted no time to begin a steady pace pistoning in and out of you messily.
"Jon!" you moaned, his cock stretching you perfectly with each thrust. His lips attacked at the supple skin of your neck, peppering little love bites trailing down over your collarbone. You could feel him wince between moans against your skin as your nails dug into his back uncontrollably, leaving long, reddened welts along his pale skin.
Your fingers trailed slowly up to his hair, giving it a good tug as you brought his lips to yours. Your movements earned a low grumble in the back of his throat in response, his hips beginning to stutter as he could feel his climax rising.
You weren't far off either, with his sweet, incandescent moans that made the coil in your stomach tighten filling your ears. "Are you gonna come for me, baby?"
A guttural moan ripped through Jon's throat at your soft whispers, unable to form words as he nodded his head breathlessly. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, his last few thrusts hard and deep before pulling out of you—just enough to send you over the edge of your high.
You swiftly propped yourself up on your elbows, breathless from your climax as he pumped his shaft a few times before releasing himself all over your stomach and chest. His face contorted with pleasure as you watched him with amazement, a sly smirk creeping on your face as he came hard.
A gentle silence fell between the two of you as he caught his breath, moving to lay next to you on the soft furs and wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling you close to his side. His warmth burned against your cheek as you laid your head on his chest, running your fingers lazily across his skin.
"You were right," he whispered against your hair, pressing a kiss to your head as you snuggled your face into the crook of his neck. You smiled against his skin, "How so?"
You lifted your head up, meeting his darling brown eyes as a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I'm far much warmer with you."
#jon snow smut#jon snow#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire#got#fanfic#scarlet was here!#jon snow x reader
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"'You're bastard born yourself. And if Ygritte does not want a child, she will go to some woods witch and drink a cup o' moon tea. You do not come into it, once the seed is planted'" (Tormund, to Jon Snow, p. 209, A Storm of Swords).
Even the wildlings know about moon tea and use it as birth control. If Rhaenyra didn't want three obvious bastards but wanted sexual freedom, she could have used moon tea. Not only was it in two episodes of House of the Dragon but it's in the original ASOIAF series. Even if Jace was unintentionally born as an obvious bastard who looked nothing like either of his "parents" Rhaenyra could have prevented more from following him by using a clearly established and well-known form of birth control. If she had one heir she would fulfill her obligation of producing an heir and there would be less speculation as to who she was bedding vs three repeat lookalike bastards. Except Rhaenyra believed herself to be above the rules, so why would it matter if her children were obviously illegitimate? Nobody should question her, because she believes she is innately superior and entitled to do whatever she pleases, no matter the consequences to others (including her bastard sons, who grow up knowing their illegitimacy yet unable to speak of it to anyone, not to mention the danger their mother puts them in by trying to use them to usurp power).
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possibly incomplete list of asoiaf characters described as having red or even "ginger" hair (or red-gold as opposed to red-brown or ghiscari red-black), never auburn:
mycah, the butcher's boy*
beric dondarrion (red-gold hair)*
lharys, member of the three stooges men-at-arms (wild rust-colored hair)**
unnamed and unfortunate mother of robert baratheon's doomed youngest child, barra (light red-haired mother of black-haired baby)*
tomard aka "fat tom", stark guardsman (with his ginger whiskers)*
horas "horror" redwyne (orange hair)*
hobber "slobber" redwyne (orange hair)*
unnamed red-haired whore leaning out a window the day of ned's execution (presumably not the same as above since she was joking about the king's death)*
melisandre of asshai (deep burnished copper. red and terrible and red.)*
a man called jaqen h'ghar (red on one side, white on the other)*
pug-nosed dancy from chataya's brothel (described as red-haired by tyrion in acok but honey-blonde in asos, so presumably hair dye must have been involved between those book mentions.)**
addam marbrand (hair the same copper color as his horse's mane)*
"ginger-headed" maester frenken*
unnamed beardless ginger youth among theon's crew at winterfell*
ygritte, a spearwife "kissed-by-fire" (bright red)*
arryk aka "left" or "right", lady olenna's red-mustached guardsman*
erryk aka "left" or "right", lady olenna's other, identical, red-mustached guardsman*
lord paxter redwyne (tufts of orange hair)**
anguy the archer of the bwb*
a red-bearded karstark rapist dead in a crow cage at stoney sept*
tansy, innkeeper of the peach in stoney sept*
meryn trant (rust-red hair)*
"red" ronnet connington
mero, "the titan's bastard", former commander of the second sons (bushy red-gold beard)
a red-headed soldier who came with stannis to the wall
shadrich "the mad mouse" (bristly orange hair)*
lord rykker's red-mustached maester
marwyn belmore, lysa's former guard captain (ginger-headed)*
lord benedar belmore with a beard that was "a ginger-grey horror"*
lord orton merryweather (reddish-orange hair)
"the red oarsman", one of euron greyoy's followers (fiery red hair)
unnamed red-haired sailor arriving at port in braavos*
lord clement piper
and his son lewys "little lew" piper, who served as squire to jaime lannister in the riverlands
unnamed red-haired youth who first escaped northward with varamyr from the battle at the wall
one of illyrio's washerwomen (dull red hair)**
jon connington (once red hair gone to grey, still red at the roots and eyebrows even when the rest was dyed blue. also had a bright red beard as a younger man.)**
rolly "duck" duckfield (a shock of orange hair)**
a young man among the wildling refugees at mole's town whose red hair reminded jon of ygritte*
the "sunset kingdoms" girl raped by tyrion in the brothel where he was captured by jorah**
hagen's daughter, only other woman among asha greyjoy's crew
roggon rustbeard, one of asha's men
mully of the nw (greasy orange hair)*
bloodbeard, commander of the company of the cat (fiery red whiskers)
"ginger" jack, a toungeless sellsword of the windblown sent to dany, face nearly covered by his bristly, orange beard
gerrick kingsblood*
and his son*
and gerrick's daughter #1*
and gerrick's daughter #2*
and gerrick's daughter #3*
ronald storm, son of ronnet connington
one of the 7 "choicest" enslaved girls from the yunkish ship who were sacrificed by victarion (red-gold hair)
an enslaved redhead boy in line for a well, asking tyrion about dany**
nail, apprentice to hammer, the armorer for the second sons**
maester tybald, redhaired maester from the dreadfort serving arnolf karstark
valena toland, heiress to ghost hill (bright red hair)
teora toland, valena's younger sister with the same hair
uther shett, knight arriving for sweetrobin's tourney (ginger-haired and whiskered)*
*characters whose hair is described in the povs of starks (or jon snow) who only use the terms auburn or red-brown for catelyn, robb, sansa etc. and do not compare said characters to said tully-haired relations
**characters whose hair is described by tyrion lannister, who spent significant time with sansa and exclusively referred to her hair as auburn (without anyone else telling him her hair color as catelyn told brienne)
the only asoiaf characters ever described as having auburn hair:
catelyn tully stark
robb stark (red-brown/auburn tully hair "so like" his mother's, with a beard redder than his hair)
sansa stark (auburn hair lighter than her mother's, most reddish glowing in candlelight)
brandon "bran" stark (hair not bright red enough for him to distinguish himself from young benjen at first glance in a weirwood flashback)
rickon stark
brynden "the blackfish" tully (once auburn hair gone to grey)
edmure tully (auburn hair with a fiery beard, likely brighter than his hair like robb's)
lysa tully arryn baelish
known tully descendants never described as having auburn hair
arya stark (darker brown stark-colored hair)
hoster tully (hair and beard gone from brown to brown streaked with grey to white as snow)
robert "sweetrobin" arryn (fine brown hair, thought by sansa to be his best feature)
fun fact: the only other character that i can find to ever even be descibed as having red-brown hair in the main series is rowan, one of the spearwives who accompanied mance on his mission to winterfell. (described by theon, who had psychological reasons not to think of any hair-resemblance to robb and co.)
tl;dr i suppose my point here is that auburn hair in the real world may be a term thrown around wildly as a fancier way of saying red hair, but grrm and his westerosi creations seem to keep to a much more specific (true) definition. not just specific, almost entirely unique to a certain family, a weird mutation passing down their line somewhat inexplicably, like the magic platinum hair of the targaryens. (ned stark's 4 tully-haired kids being sorta like alicent hightower's 4 targ-haired kids where nobody can really explain why it was so dominant.) except it's actually more unique to the tullys than either black hair to the baratheons or silver hair to the targaryens, with the velaryons also having valyrian hair as well as some people in the essosi free cities too. which i guess makes rowan the wildling the equalivent of an unknown dragonseed or a lysene woman who could pass as a targ, and regular brown-haired hoster and sweetrobin the equivalent of regular blonde-haired alysanne and alyssa targaryen. so the next time someone calls the tullys lame or whatever, just remember that in-universe they're actually more special than the dragonriders, at least hairwise.
#valyrianscrolls#asoiaf meta#house tully#catelyn stark#catelyn tully#edmure tully#lysa tully#brynden tully#hoster tully#robb stark#sansa stark#bran stark#arya stark#rickon stark#robert arryn#one fish two fish red fish blue fish#(c)lsb#happy tully tuesday!#ik this seems pedantic but as always i have multiple agendas here#which do not include hating on anyone's orange-haired fanart bc unlike some people i have some tumblr manners#and ik auburn hair is hard to define bc i cant explain it beyond my mom's natural hair color. thats how real world rare it is.
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My fav jonsa foreshadowing is the 'blood of winterfell' bit. Because while all the Starks identify strongly with wolf/Stark/winterfell/north motifs, this term is only ever used for Jon and Sansa, and once by Stannis for a potential ruler of Winterfell. Its on the nose that whose blood will continue the Stark line.
hi, anon! that is a really interesting bit of foreshadowing. considering how often discussions of the stark family, winterfell, and the succession thereof come up over the course of the series, it seems pointed that this specific phrase—"the blood of winterfell"—exists but is only mentioned on these specific occasions.
jon calls himself "the blood of winterfell" in asos as part of a drug-addled fever-dream he has where he is bathing with ygritte in the pool beneath the heart tree at winterfell. specifically, he says it as a reclamation of his identity after having finally fled the wildlings. considering that he also repeats that he is a man of the night's watch, it seems as though jon is repeating what qhorin halfhand told him right before jon killed him and joined the freefolk. thus, the phrase bookends his time with them. this bookending imbues the phrase with even more significance. this is jon's mantra for reminding himself of who he really is even while he is playing traitor among the freefolk.
in the dream, he also says it as part of a denial of his relationship with ygritte: "i will not father a bastard." but of course ygritte's response in the dream is "you know nothing, jon snow." he didn't father a bastard with ygritte...so why is his declaration being refuted?
this phrase "the blood of winterfell" comes up immediately before jon speaks about fathering children...with his kissed-by-fire lover with whom he is in a sexually-charged situation in the godswood at winterfell. it's really hard not to see a huge amount of foreshadowing in this!
and then, as if that were not enough, the phrase "the blood of winterfell" shows up again twice more. once in sansa's POV in affc where she too is using it as a mantra to remind herself of her identity while playing the role of littlefinger's bastard. and once more in jon's POV in adwd when stannis is trying yet again to persuade jon to serve him as lord of winterfell and jon is yet again reaffirming that winterfell should be sansa's. so, first the phrase gets attached to jon's identity and then to sansa's, and then to both of theirs during the same conversation.
so, to review, the phrase "the blood of winterfell" is used to:
reaffirm jon's true identity while he is playing a role that goes against it
reclaim jon's true identity when is done playing the part
refute the idea that jon will father a bastard with ygritte, while hinting that he might still break his vow to father no sons
reaffirm sansa's true identity when she is playing a role that goes against it
describe who is worthy of becoming the future ruler of winterfell
the fact that this phrase is only used these four specific times, and these are the associations it has...? yeah, the foreshadowing is practically screaming at us.
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Dany fan here: I think other Dany fans think Jonsas are over the top with Dany hate because of pol!Jon. I follow many Jonsas because I’m perfectly fine with Jonsa. It’s not for me but I see the vision. That said I’m a bit of an unusual Dany fan in the sense that I’m a big fan of the Meereenese Knot essays and think the interpretation of Dany presented there is pretty spot on. I personally think Dany has a good heart but that circumstance and experience and terrible coping mechanisms have led her to act in villainous ways and whether or not a character is a villain is determined by their actions regardless of whatever goodness is in their heart. But anyway I do not like the pol!Jon theory. I think it’s out of character for Jon and needlessly cruel to Dany. I think it’s possible that he ultimately kills her and that could be fine and I don’t reject that theory, but I think the idea of Jon deceiving and sexually abusing Dany and then killing her for the sake of Sansa is what Dany fans think of when they think of over the top hate because they assume every Jonsa shipper also believes in pol!Jon.
I do understand why people thought Jon was deceiving Dany in the show though because their relationship was just so poorly executed and Kit and Emilia had no chemistry on screen. Imagine fucking up your show’s romance so badly that people think the script confirming that the love was mutual must have been tampered with.
Hi there!
(I think Dany is a compelling tragic villain, and it's lovely seeing someone loving her for it!)
I do think that pol!Jon (under duress, esentially) is a not unreasonable theory that grew out of the way the show presented their relationship. If there was sexual abuse I think it's fair to say it was in the hands of the more powerful party, though.
That said, I don't see it happening that way in the books at all and I think all characters will be better off for it. I agree it wouldn't feel right.
Certainly not in a punitive "you thought he would love you but he really loves Sansa, now die!!!" way. That cheapens jonsa as much as it cheapens the complexity of the conflict between Dany and Jon.
It's just a deeply uninteresting way to explore their existing conflict or their respective strengths. Not to be a hater but it's not exactly riveting literature watching Dany be manipulated by Daario and it's unlikely to be more so in a repeat performance with Jon who isn't even her type. Same as watching Jon go through a repeat of the abusive Ygritte plotline would be less than compelling.
We'll have instances of romantic manipulation. Littlefinger is practically begging Sansa to use his own obsession against him, and Arya gives us a preview when she lures Raff to his death wearing "Mercy's" face. That's been set up since the first book, and it works as a satisfying response to the way everyone has been telling Sansa how weak and simple she is. It's very personal, very steeped in their respective histories, very poetic.
But for Jon and Dany I think we can expect something more universal and even-handed than that. They are both at varying points manipulative and earnest, highly clever or unexpectly outmaneuvered. And neither will be in this conflict all alone and without advice. Not to mention, we have both of their POVs and watching one just miss all the clues of the other manipulating them would be flat. This only ever works with one POV withheld. The show tried that with Jon Snow live on the screen, to disastrous results. No way is that GRRM's plan.
I'd rather watch two clever adversaries play a big game of chess. And given GRRM's love for that game, I am certain it's also what he would prefer to write.
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ygritte & jon ( @ofxscavengcrs )
for someone who had just returned from the dead a few hours ago, and from another time ― was everything scary, even though she had been tough in the past, this was new to her. ygritte stood in the middle of the road, there the cars were driving. when a car came towards her they honked, she jumped to the side, started to scream after it as it disappeared ❝ why is it screaming at me. what did i do to you? ❞ she knew they wouldn't hear her, but perhaps could someone close by explain to her what was going on.
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It's already been mentioned that in general Jon Snow is more attracted to personality rather than appearance and if I had to pinpoint to what those specific character traits are I would say that it's an independent nature, being a rule breaker and general proactiveness in getting things done.
Ygritte embodied what Jon loved about the Freefolk - a freedom of sorts from Westerosi biases, societal rules and laws. His journey with the Freefolk changes his long held opinions of them and parallels his love for Ygritte. Ygritte is honest and open about her desires, values her independence and often times it is Ygritte who defends and protects Jon Snow.
And though he does not know or love Val as much as he does Ygritte, it's their similar independent nature and not being beholden to others that he again finds attractive.
All the same, the wildling princess was not beloved of her gaolers. She scorned them all as "kneelers," and had thrice attempted to escape. When one man-at-arms grew careless in her presence she had snatched his dagger from its sheath and stabbed him in the neck. Another inch to the left and he might have died.
Lonely and lovely and lethal, Jon Snow reflected, and I might have had her. Her, and Winterfell, and my lord father's name. - Jon, ADwD
Val stood on the platform as still as if she had been carved of salt. She will not weep nor look away. Jon wondered what Ygritte would have done in her place. The women are the strong ones. - Jon, ADwD
And when she wants to help by bringing Tormund's faction to the Wall, Jon lets her, trusting in her capability to go beyond the Wall alone, on a half blind horse, with no protection.
“My lady, you do not have to do this. The risk—”
“—is mine, Lord Snow. And I am no southron lady but a woman of the free folk. I know the forest better than all your black-cloaked rangers. It holds no ghosts for me.”
I hope not. Jon was counting on that, trusting that Val could succeed where Black Jack Bulwer and his companions had failed. She need fear no harm from the free folk, he hoped … but both of them knew too well that wildlings were not the only ones waiting in the woods. - Jon, ADwD
Or when she partners with Jon to help him with Selyse Baratheon - a Westerosi Queen that he is wholly unimpressed with and wants gone from the Wall as soon as possible.
“Let me help.”
“You have. You brought me Tormund.”
“I can do more.”
Why not? thought Jon.
They are all convinced she is a princess. Val looked the part and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her. - Jon, ADwD
And then there is Alys Karstark and the flirty vibes between Jon and her. There is certainly admiration there for Alys on Jon's behalf. Alys who gets on a horse in the harshest of winter, nearly dying trying to reach the Wall and yet doing so in the belief that the son of Ned Stark will help her. Alys who probably grew up hearing stories and songs of the evil Wildlings who rape and pillage and yet agrees to marry one to protect her own inheritance and rightful claim to house Karstark.
Jon turned to Alys Karstark. “My lady. Are you ready?”
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
“You’re not scared?”
The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. “Let him be scared of me.”The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace that Satin had found somewhere, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. Her cheeks were flushed and red, and her eyes sparkled.
“Winter’s lady.” Jon squeezed her hand. - Jon, ADwD
We as readers and characters like Jon Snow understand that the Freefolk are just like the other denizens of Westeros - good and bad - and yet there's just so much bigotry against them, especially in the North. So Alys - who has never even met one of the Freefolk - entering into a marriage alliance with the Magnar of Thenns is indeed momentous and extremely brave. It has similarities to Dany's marriage with Hizdahr to sue for peace for her people, to bring about an end to the insurgency by the slavers.
So while Jon can be protective towards the characters he cares about - Arya, Sam, Satin - he also really loves that independent streak in the girls he is attracted towards.
Which is why I am really excited for Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen meeting in the books. Even though they have not met yet, I can just sense that palpable chemistry between these two characters based on their personalities. Close in age and maturity, these are two young leaders with a can do attitude, keenly interested in reform and rebuilding a new world. And yeah, Daenerys is really beautiful and yet IMO Jon Snow is going to fall for her personality, regardless of her appearance and not because of it.
And I think that's key considering GRRM's themes of beauty being skin deep and what's important is who we are and not how good looking we are. And despite Jon and Dany not meeting yet, he's laid the groundwork for them getting along like a house of 🔥
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Listening to A Game of Thrones again. I only just finished Jon I and I just had a thought that I have no wish to expand upon at this moments, but maybe I will later or someone else could if they wish.
Starks and Targaryens
Lyanna / Ned / Catelyn -> Aemma / Viserys / Alicent
Lyanna and Aemma die giving birth to a child wanted by the father only for their only living child to be the gender the father of the child did not want. Both women haunt the story even though they are relegated to very brief mentions in their “historical” records. Both die due to a Targaryen man’s irrational belief in prophecy.
Ned and Viserys attempts to keep the peace between the two halves of their family, however, their first “child” causes tensions with his wife and other children and there is a divide between them. Both treat their first children above the typically accepted position their birth would have entitled them to.
Catelyn and Alicent are married to men and constantly feel compared to a woman who is dead or gone and feels threatened by the protective nature of their husband towards their first child. Both have a child who is disabled, only for their husbands to not care. No one was punished, even lightly, for the blinding of Aemond, and Viserys brushed the incident away. Ned left Catelyn alone with Bran, who could have very well died while he was away and chose his duty to Jon Arryn, someone dead, above his son. Both women die with vengeance for their dead children on their lips.
Jon / Robb -> Rhaenyra / Aegon II
Jon and Rhaenyra are their father’s eldest child and is raised above the station many children in their positions are given (Jon as a bastard and Rhaenyra as a girl). Their position within the family puts their stepmothers on edge and their positions also serve as a vague threat to their half-siblings. They both leave their homes and “set up court” elsewhere, Jon at Castle Black and Rhaenyra in Dragonstone, and stay away from the main fight of the series. Both were born the opposite gender their fathers wanted.
Robb and Aegon II both picked up their crowns after the urging of familial figures that discussed the danger their siblings are threatened with. Both lost control of their anger once their siblings began dying. Neither man seemed insistent on a crown and do not think of their other sibling as a danger to themselves despite the warnings of their mother. Both are betrayed by allies.
Benjen -> Daemon
These are more foils. Benjen is everything that Daemon is not and vice versa. Benjen sends himself into exile and remains there and serves the King and his brother with honor. He also tries to look out for his nephew and help raise him to be a proper man for the time he is with him. Daemon is constantly exiled for his actions but always comes back and leads his niece astray.
Jon / Sansa -> Aegon III / Jaehaera
Both Jon and Aegon III are made heir by the will of the previous king so that a woman won’t be given the throne (albeit for different reasons). Both have a complicated relationship with symbol of their house. They are traumatized by the death of a woman who had great influence over them (Ygritte and Rhaenyra). Both were never meant to be put in royal positions of authority, Jon being both a bastard and a second son, and Aegon with three older brothers and the son of the losing side.
Sansa and Jaehaera are both girls deeply traumatized by witnessing the death of beloved male relatives who are wrongly beheaded right in front of them. The two girls serve as keys to their houses and inheritance and are used for that inheritance despite being willed away from such an inheritance. While incited to violence, both are reluctant to such murder and do not enact it. They serve as a representative to sides of a war that are not well liked in the current ruling dynasty.
Ironically, if Jonsa were to happen it would be a true reconciliation of two sides of the similar conflicts that originated with the questions of inheritance.
Lannisters and Strongs
Tywin -> Lyonel
Both men are considered to be great politicians. However, their children undermined their political influence and reveal that both men are not actually as great as they are initially believed to be. Tywin does not think about the long term. Lyonel allows his son to put them all in danger by even allowing such rumors to swirl. If Lyonel were smart, he would have nipped those rumors in the bud not only to protect his son, but to not add shaky foundations for Rhaenyra’s reputation.
Jaime / Cersei -> Harwin / Rhaenyra
Both men have affairs with royal women and sire children that look like them. Both men have three bastards destined to die due to the greed of the women they love who can and will never acknowledge them as the fathers of their children.
Cersei and Rhaenyra do not wish to have children with their husbands, for different reasons, and often put their own sexual pleasure above their positions at court and their own allies. Both women are threatened by younger women who could usurp their place and often belittle them for the sake of their own vanity. Both greatly fear their younger brothers and what hand they might take in their deaths.
Tyrion / Larys
Both men are the “lesser” sons of their fathers and are disfigured—earning nicknames for said disfigurement. Both men are very resentful towards their siblings and either enact or wish for the destruction of their houses.
#house of the dragon#a song of ice and fire#game of thrones#jonsa#anti viserys i targaryen#anti rhaenyra targaryen#those tags just in case
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