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imagine-that-darlin · 8 years ago

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Uprising For The Throne (notes at the end)

The throne glimmered beautifully as Ana stared in amusement. This throne-- the iron throne, would soon belong to her, and hers alone. Not that she’d always longed for the throne. In fact, she’d never really wanted it in the first place. What she’d wanted was power, the power to effect change at the highest level of all- Queen. But she’d had that for years now, and she could still feel the sting of realization. She had no power. All of the power lied in the hands of her husband, King Torbjorn.

She shuddered at the thought of that. Not that he’d always been bad, she’d remembered. He used to be kind. Ana figured that eventually his anger took over. She was not the woman he loved, and had always loved. Though he’d never admit it, Ana knew she would never compare. She knew it from the very first night she’d been with him, when he called out another woman’s name. Her train of thought was interrupted by heavy footsteps approaching her. Ana knew without looking that it was her daughter, Fareeha. No matter how many times Ana scolded her, the girl tromped around and stomped her feet like a bull.

“Mother,” Ana turned to meet her daughters stare. She didn’t answer verbally, just raised an eyebrow in question. Fareeha let her hands fall from behind her back, relaxing slightly. “Father just told me that I am to be wed. To a Stark boy. Actually, he announced it in front of the whole council.” Ana felt a twinge of irritation- why was she not at this council meeting?

“So you will be wed, as he said. We’ve already begun designing your gown-- don’t worry dear, I’ve got the best seamstresses in the seven kingdoms working on it. You will undoubtedly look beautiful.”

Fareeha scoffed, then ground her teeth. “I would like to have been the one to announce my marriage. Not have it announced to me. I get no say in this? What if I do not like this boy?”

Ana grinned, having forgotten how naive her daughter was sometimes. She wasn’t the least bit worried, because if this boy was bad to her daughter, well, he would disappear. “Oh, Fareeha, you are just like me-- well, when I was younger.” She walked over to her daughter and cupped her face with both hands, lovingly lifting her head slightly. “I have done everything in my power to find you a suitable match, but this is the best I can do. This is how things are, my angel. I did not ask to marry your father, and I, too, protested. It does no good. If the king wants something, he shall get it, and you’re now nearing eighteen. Most princesses are married sooner, much sooner, but I’ve managed to hold the wedding off to find the right husband. I cannot guarantee you will like him, but he is from a good family.”

“The Starks. Northerners. I’ve never been north… but father is from there, right?” Ana jerked a nod in response. She had been north many times in her youth, as her family was noble and her parents wanted to wed her to the best house possible. They’d thought they’d done well.

“But how do you know he will be good?” Fareeha asked.

Ana’s hands fell from her face, resting on her shoulders. “The Starks’ are good people. They have honor, pride, and they raise their children to have the same. He will be decent, at least. And if he is not,” Ana smirked, “well, I will make him decent. Nobody hurts my baby.”

“I’m not a baby. Soon, I am to be a wife.”

“Of course,” Ana replied. “Soon you are to be queen.”

Loud- that was all Jesse could think. The horses galloping was all he could register, and it was loud.

They’d been traveling for about a week now, and everyone was tired. Jesse loved horses, but after this long, he’d be tired of anything. He’d started out this trip a jumbled mess- nervous, excited, terrified, ecstatic… and now he was just tired.

But soon, all that tiredness would be worth it. At least, that was what Jesse’s father, Gabriel Stark, had been telling him. While he was still nervous every now and then, Jesse ultimately trusted in his father. Not that his father had actually had anything much to do with this arrangement, besides knowing the king and queen. A lot of people knew the king and queen.

Once again, Jesse’s mind wandered to his bride-to-be. Although he’d never met the princess Fareeha, he, like most in the kingdom, had heard tales about her beauty. Jesse didn’t want to admit, however, that he didn’t care much about her beauty, like everyone else. What he was worried about was her personality-- would she be kind? Would she be the loving wife that every man wanted? Or would she be a spoiled, obnoxious brat? Jesse wanted to have hope, but he knew that royalty could warp people. Take the mad king, for instance.

Jesse prayed to the Gods’ that that wouldn’t happen to him.

After hours and hours of riding, they finally approached King’s Landing. Jesse stared in awe at the massive city before him.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” A gruff voice drew his attention, and Jesse turned towards his father. “I remember my first time coming to King’s Landing. I was awestruck.”

Clenching his reins tightly, Jesse nodded. “I can see why. It’s nothing like home. Winterfell is so much more…”

“Cold?” Gabriel asked, grinning crookedly.

His son returned the grin, albeit a much smaller one. “Yes, cold.”

For the first time in his life, Jesse was hot. Winter wasn’t here yet, but it always snowed in Winterfell. On the rare occasion that it wasn’t snowing, it was frozen over. Jesse certainly never complained, he was a pretty hairy man, so he always felt comfortable in the snow. This, though… well, it was strange, to say the least.

Beads of sweat dripped off of his nose and he gripped his reins tighter, knuckles turning white from clutching so hard.

“They’re waiting for us in there,” Gabriel hinted.

Jesse gulped, then kicked his horse slightly, ordering her to begin walking. Gabriel did the same. They trotted through the city until they reached the castle steps.

Awaiting their arrival was the king himself, surrounded by his men. The queen stood on his right side, and the princess on his left. When Jesse saw them, he had to hold his breathe.

The princess was just as beautiful as he’d been told-- she stood tall and proud, shrouded in a beautiful blue and gold dress. The designs were so intricate, golden flowers gently etched into the material. They were not too subtle, but just enough so that the gold complimented the royal blue of the dress. Her dark, long locks of hair were put up a way Jesse had never seen done before. Her hair was braided and high and tight, and he wasn’t really sure how to describe it, except that he thought it looked uncomfortable.

And beautiful.

So why wasn’t his heart fluttering? Why didn’t he feel amazed, excited, or even a twinge of attraction? All he could feel was fear, and he realized that was because his eyes had wandered past the king and over to the queen, who was shooting him a terrifyingly cold glare. Jesse felt the hairs on his arms stand in fear, and Gabriel began to chuckle. Gabriel dismounted his horse and Jesse soon followed. The two of them bowed to the king, although Jesse was a bit clumsy, stumbling before lowering his knee. He didn’t dare lift his head up to meet the king's’ eyes-- or at least, he tried to convince himself that it was the king he was scared of. So when a loud, hearty laugh bellowed throughout what Jesse thought may be the whole kingdom, he couldn’t help but jump a bit.

“Gabriel Stark, yer lookin’ mighty rough these days! Since when’d’ya start gettin’ grey hair? Don’t tell me it’s because of yer son here, I’d be highly disappointed if I married my little girl off to a trouble maker. Wouldn’t surprise me if he were just like you in yer youth, but I’ve hoped not!” Jesse snapped his head up, face flushing ever-so-slightly. He was being addressed by the king himself-- well, not directly, but he’d mentioned him, and that was a first for Jesse.

Gabriel grinned up at his king. “I sure lucked out… with this one, that is, but I did consider offering up one of my more… well, let’s say mischievous sons. But I wouldn’t want to do that to your lovely daughter,” he smiled at Fareeha, who only glowered in response. “Ah, just like her mother. And just as beautiful.”

Fareeha was now obviously taken aback, and so was Jesse. He imagined she was just as shocked as he was. How could his father talk to them so… informally?

“Back off, Gabriel,” the queen warned, “you’re not the one she’s betrothed to.”

“A shame,” Gabriel joked.

The king coughed a loud ‘Ahem’, drawing everyone’s attention once more. “The two of you,” Jesse gulped again, now being addressed directly. Well, sort of. “Rise.” They immediately obeyed their king’s command, Jesse shaking slightly.

“Jesse Stark,” the king’s loud voice seemed to demand attention.

“Your grace,” Jesse answered.

The king took a few steps forward, until he was right in front of Jesse, who had to look down at the short man. Although Jesse was over a foot taller, he was still intimidated, but that was mostly due to all of the men ready to draw their swords to protect their king. So when the king lifted a hand and roughly grabbed Jesse’s arm, Jesse almost squeaked.

“Soon, you’ll be part of the family,�� the king said warmly. “I’m sure it’ll take ya’ some time to adjust-- King’s Landing is world’s away from Winterfell, it seems, but we’ll do all that we can to make sure you feel at home.”

Jesse was a little shocked, surprised by how kind the king was to him. “Thank you, your grace,” he bowed his head slightly.

“Fareeha,” Torbjorn released Jesse’s arm and turned towards his daughter, “greet your fiancee.”

Fareeha began walking forward, down the steps, and was followed by a guard. Ana scoffed, pushing the guard out of the way to take her daughter’s side. Jesse could barely see the annoyance on the king’s face, although he wasn’t sure why. He thought it was sweet that her mother wanted to be by her side. He also thought that she was far more intimidating than any of the guards that were there. When the princess reached her father, she stopped behind him, leaving about three feet between her and her future husband.

“My lady,” Jesse bowed his head once more, politely addressing his fiance. Ana gave Fareeha a stern look which Jesse wasn’t sure was a good or bad sign. Fareeha sighed softly and held out her hand for Jesse to take. He delicately grasped her hand with his right hand and planted a small peck to the top of it.

Torbjorn let out another cough. “That’s enough, you two. Yer not married yet, don’t be so eager,” he grinned.

Jesse blushed lightly and released her hand. Fareeha only rolled her eyes, causing Ana to smirk. “Well, what’s say we take this reunion inside, hm?” Torbjorn grinned at Gabriel who nodded in response.

There were many houses in the seven kingdoms, but upon one of the greatest was the Shimada house. They were more like a clan than a family. The house, lead by Lord Shimada, was one of the strongest, due to their tightknit personality. Lord Shimada and his wife had two sons, the eldest being Hanzo and the youngest Genji.

The two young men may have been siblings, but they were as different as they could be. The only trait they shared was their name. Hanzo, the more serious, reserved brother, often chastised his younger sibling for being too rambunctious and, well… flirtatious. In fact, that was what he was on his way to do right this moment.

Hanzo stepped inside of a brothel, scowling irritatingly. He scanned the loud room before settling on his brother, who was holding a red-headed woman in his lap. Hanzo scowled even harder when he saw that Genji also had his arm around a man next to him. Why, Hanzo wondered, did Genji have to disgrace his family in so many ways? Was courting whores not enough? Hanzo stomped over to his brother, a growl building up inside of him.

Genji noticed Hanzo right before he approached. “Ah, hello, brother! Here for a drink?” He grinned, and the woman sitting on him turned and smiled up at Hanzo. Hanzo blushed in return, wishing the woman had been wearing a top. Disgraceful, he thought. While she was beautiful, with delicate features and piercing blue eyes, Hanzo had never found whores to be… suitable mates. He ignored her and looked to his brother.

“I would not drink here. I would like to have thought you would not drink here, either, but I knew this is where you would be. Have you no respect for your reputation?” Hanzo folded his arms to his chest.

Chuckling, Genji grabbed the woman by her hips and sat her on the side not occupied by the man, who was starting to look uncomfortable with Hanzo. Genji reached into his pocket and handed the man and woman both some coins, and they eagerly took them. He motioned for them to leave then grabbed his drink once they did. “Hanzo, I’m here because I respect my reputation,” Genji told him, grinning as he winked at another prostitute. Hanzo didn’t even turn to look at the prostitute, he was too busy glaring his brother down. “Maybe you should unwind, brother. Have a little fun. It’d do you some good.”

“Good?” Hanzo’s voice was higher now, almost to the point of a yell. People were beginning to stare at them. “Disgracing your family is good? Disappointing our parents- good? You make a mockery of us, Genji! For showing no willpower, no restraint, that does our image good?”

Hanzo leaned down and roughly grabbed his brother by the shirt, pulling him up to stand and meet his glare. “You are no good, Genji. You are nothing to this family. All you do is waste our coin on booze and whores!” He was still clutching his brother’s shirt, so he yanked and threw Genji down.

Genji hit the floor harshly, and people around gasped. Hanzo glared at his brother for a few more moments before turning and retreating.

Far off, across narrow sea, there was a young girl, only sixteen. She lived with her older brother, Viserys. She had dark brown hair and smooth, caramel brown eyes. Her name was Hana, and she was the true princess of Westeros. But she had been exiled, along with her brother, after Torbjorn overthrew their father… the mad king.

“Hana, get into your dress. Your husband will be here soon,” Viserys didn’t even look up at his sister. He was too busy drawing up plans.

“I’m not married yet,” Hana snapped. “I don’t want to be married at all.”

Viserys scowled, turning his attention from his work to his sister. “Stop being a brat. Do you want to stay here forever? You will marry the Khal and he will give me the army I need to take back Westeros. If you’d rather, I could knock you out and when you wake up you’ll be there, with your new husband, and you’ll have no say as to what happens between now and then.”

Hana flinched at the thought of that. She knew that she had to do this, she had to get an army for her brother. If the Khal would give her one, that is. That was the only way they could take back their home.

Her brother sighed. “Look, Hana, after we get to Westeros, I’ll have every last Dothraki soldier killed when I reclaim the army of King’s Landing. That includes the Khal. But for now, you will marry him, you will make him happy, and you will get my army. And I… I will take back what is rightfully mine.” Hana nodded sadly.

His throne, she reminded herself, it’s his, and I’m just his puppet.

“FIRE IN THE HOLE!” A loud, excited scream escaped the Khal as he threw a glass filled with some unknown mixture into a small fire, causing it to explode and spread even further. His bodyguard, Mako, known by most as ‘Roadhog’, stood beside him and watched the flames. Jamison, the Khal, laughed erratically. He was very pleased with his destruction-- he and his people had always been destructive, but he’d never lost the pleasure it brought. Burning down villages, savaging, killing… all of those excited the Khal, but fire was what set him off the most.

He felt a large, heavy hand clamp down on his shoulder. “It’s time to go, Jamison. Your future wife is awaiting your arrival.”

The Khal twitched his eyebrows in annoyance. He didn’t want to get married, but he knew that marrying this girl, whatever her name was --yes, he’d forgotten--, would be better than marrying one of his Dothraki women. Jamison wanted someone who didn’t know their rules. Someone who wasn’t just like everyone else. Someone… fiery. Someone exciting. He wanted someone he wasn’t supposed to be with. He wanted danger.

He was gonna get it.

So, hey, I’ve never written an overwatch fanfic before. I’ve also never written a game of thrones one I think, but I decided to cross over my two favorite things. It’s not gonna go just like game of thrones because that would be boring. I don’t know for sure if I’ll even finish this but it’s fun to write :) If anyone actually finds this and is weirded out by the plot or by ships, don’t worry, as game of thrones leads you to realize,,, nothing is as it seems

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