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uluthrek · 1 year ago

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au in which robert, the starks and the lannisters play monopoly instead of going hunting and pushing each other‘s kids from towers.

tyrion implements a tax system to make things more interesting and fights cersei over the cat for a solid ten minutes.

around thirty minutes into the game, catelyn realizes that she has free will and stops paying taxes.

arya and sansa haggle over new york avenue, which ends up being bought by theon. this causes the two to completely cast aside their differences, ally and subsequently start doing everything in their power to make theon‘s life hell.

theon himself is quite severely stoned the entire time throughout.

ned enters horrendous debt pretty much immediately and, after two hours of being financially sucked dry by both cersei and his tax evader of a wife, decides to just place his figurine in jail and never leave.

jon, playing the dog, controls the railroads and makes jaime, playing the ship, go completely broke within minutes. being beaten by a bastard and officially the first to lose the game makes jaime so mad he spends the rest of the evening perched on the family‘s ancestral armchair eating flaming hot cheetos and stifling sobs.

cersei is holding onto her last two dollars and her one house in atlantic avenue like a maniac and evades taxes like it‘s an olympic sport. she claims ownership of kentucky avenue on the grounds that red is her house‘s color at least twice. after three hours, she‘s consumed enough vintage red to kill a large mammal and keeps quoting the art of war. fascinatingly enough, she never goes completely broke.

robert, just as broke and drunk as his wife but not nearly as ferocious, proposes marriage for tax advantages to bran, who is in possession of the boardwalk and lets him dangle on his proposition for two rounds before accepting and feeling like a benevolent god.

sansa sees this and immediately proposes to arya, who accepts, only for them to be sued by their mother for public indecency („you‘re siblings, jesus christ!“). arya argues that this is just a game and that one could argue that robert‘s and bran‘s marital alliance is just as if not even more inappropriate, considering that bran is seven and robert thirtyseven. sansa countersues her mother for tax evasion, who promises she‘ll drop her lawsuit if her daughters let her keep hoarding perverse amounts of wealth. „love wins!“ arya says, which causes jaime, still perched on the armchair but now eating old nan‘s home made whiskey truffles, to hysterically sob. cersei stares him down.

robb, in a rare moment of almost prophetic foresight, excuses himself one hour in and goes on a very, VERY long walk with grey wind.

tyrion, whose tax system has spectacularly backfired in his face, proposes marriage to catelyn, jon and cersei in rapid succession, who all turn him down. „i wish i was the monster you think i am. i wish i had enough poison for the whole pack of you. i would gladly give my life to watch you all swallow it.“ he screams before he leaves the table.

at that, joffrey, who has refused to participate and instead sits on the couch playing doom on his nintendo ds, starts hysterically laughing. tyrion turns on his heel and awards his nephew with the bitchslap of the century. this causes cersei to completely abandon the game and chase after him with a broom. catelyn makes sure that everyone is distracted by the lannister antics and then reaches across the table and bags cersei‘s money and properties.

with a heavy heart, myrcella trades arya and sansa one of her limited edition bayala schleich unicorns for park place.

at this point, the game is between the tycoons that are catelyn and jon, the bran-robert alliance, the arya-sansa-alliance, and ned, who is still in jail and watching ice hockey on his phone under the table. that is when catelyn hears rickon gagging and discovers that he, in the absence of tyrion, the self declared bank manager, has managed to eat all bank notes from the box.

rickon gets his stomach pumped, cersei and tyrion have both been arrested, theon is still stoned, arya, sansa and myrcella have wandered off to go play schleich horses, and jon remains at the table, alone, content, and quietly considering himself the winner.

#asoiaf #asoiaf au #asoiaf modern au #eddard stark #catelyn stark #ned x catelyn #cersei lannister #jaime lannister #tyrion lannister #robert baratheon #robb stark #jon snow #bran stark #arya stark #sansa stark #rickon stark #joffrey baratheon #myrcella baratheon #sorry for the tommen erasure :(

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esther-dot · 6 months ago

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Downton Abbey AUs

Look for the Silver Lining 7k, WIP by @ohhaveyouseenme

“He’s coming to stay…” Lord Eddard Stark’s announcement was met with silence before it was broken by the incredulous scoff of one Sansa Stark. “Here?” she bit out, turning fully away from her father. “With all of us?” Sansa looked around imploringly at the rest of her family.

And Then There Was You 49k, WIP by @periwinkle39

Lord Ned Stark and his family live in a beautiful stately home called Winterfell in the northern English county over which he presides as earl. His wife, Lady Catelyn Stark, is an American heiress whose fortune helped secure the Stark estate and keeps it running. They have three children: Robb, Sansa and Arya. Robb, who was set to inherit everything, has died tragically. By law, Ned’s heir is the next oldest male Stark and that turns out to be a distant cousin named Jon.

Of Love and Land 2k (incomplete but works as a one shot)

A Downton Abbey inspired AU - When Eddard Stark, the owner of one of the largest estates in England, Winterfell, dies on the sunken Titanic along with his wife and sole son, Robb, only his daughters Sansa and Arya are left. Given the absence of a male heir, the estate is inherited by their estranged cousin Jon Snow, who lived the entirely of his life on his own mysterious father’s modest lands in Scotland. While Arya adores cousin Jon, Sansa is as disconcerted by him as he seems to be by her…

The Chauffeur and the Lady 1k (incomplete but works as a one shot)

AU set in 1921 Jon Snow is hired by the Stark family to be the Chauffeur and Jon and Sansa find themselves drawn to each other. Loosely inspired by Downton Abbey

Gifsets: Downton Abbey AU by @winterrobb and Downton Abbey Jonsa and Gendrya AU by @divinespairings

Edit: Downton Abbey AU manip by @sardoniyx, "Marry a man who can barely hold his fork like a gentlemen?" by @azulaahai, “Don’t do this Jon! You can’t just kiss me!" by @jonsa-creatives, “I’m not going to give you an answer until you say it properly.” by @kitten1618x

General Edwardian AUs

Even a Small Love 54k

After the war that sundered her family and tore her homeland apart, Sansa had thought a loveless marriage to a near-stranger a small price to pay for her honor, her safety, and, above all, Winterfell. Over a year later, she begins to wonder if that's really all she wants out of life. Then her husband falls ill.

A Just Woman and an Honorable Man 12k, WIP by @sibyldisobedience

A story of politics, corruption, blackmail, marriage, and love. (an Ideal Husband AU)

The Sweet Intoxication of the Fall 30k by @vivilove-jonsa

When Jon is hired on as the new undergardener at Winterfell, Old Willem’s rules are simple: “The godswood takes care of itself. The rest of the estate does not. If a task can be done by sundown, I expect it to be done by sundown. If not, go eat your supper and finish it the next day. Don’t neglect the lemon trees in the Glass Garden. They need constant care to thrive up here. Leave Lady Catelyn’s roses that grow there be. She prefers to tend them herself. Leave Lady Catelyn’s daughters be as well.” Keeping to four out of five isn’t so bad, he reckons.

Cousin Jon ficlet by @amymel86

“Cousin Jon?” Lady Catelyn rolled her eyes in exasperation and set the letter gently down on her writing desk. “Yes, cousin Jon. Who else were you expecting to swoop in and save us from this scandal?” Corresponding gifset

PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALE - REGENCY - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON SIX - ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE -SALTY TEENS - POST CANON - RICKON LIVES - JON X ALAYNE

#jonsa #jonsa fic #downton abbey au #edwardian au #historical au #dot fic list

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whppxdit4chi · 7 months ago

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EDIT TO ADD:

Just to be clear if anyone cares and because this post kinda blew up and people started dragging me and I’m pretty sure they assumed that I was suggesting anything I said was in some way representative of my beliefs/theories:

I was totally just spitballing shit off the top of my head.

I never intended my word salad to trigger such a heated debate, I genuinely was just hoping for a civilised discussion about what’s right/wrong, what’s most/least likely. I want to understand all this deep stuff and engage with the fandom and hear people’s thoughts. I don’t have the mental capacity to weave intricate theories that tie all strings together like some of this fandom does. This post was incredibly fucking low effort drivel that I tossed out into the universe in the hopes of exploring different possibilities and engaging in conversation about exploring the significance of the differing appearances of the Stark children. Nowhere was it supposed to say I *want* the characters mentioned to fail/succeed. Nowhere was it supposed to imply that I know the significance of it. I just picked up something that was sitting with me and thought aloud about what it could mean and just came up with a random idea of what it might mean without much thought. At least some part of the thought was shaped by the end of Robb’s story and because he failed due to what I interpreted as getting too close to Southern politics and perhaps forgetting the core values he was fighting for along the way. I don’t know. I feel like I shouldn’t say anything else now cause anything I could say feels like it will just fuel the fire.

I’ve confessed multiple times now that what I said was shortsighted, wrong and didn’t consider intricacies that refute what I was saying entirely. Now if people could chill and take the post for what it is, that would be great.

ORIGINAL POST:

Do any of y’all asoiaf homies think there could be some significance to the Stark kids’ appearance?

My brain does not currently have the capacity to explain what I mean exactly but I’m talking in the sense that the majority of the kids look like Tullys not Starks, notably it’s said that Arya and Jon look most like Starks and it just made me wonder whether that somehow foreshadows their failures- in the sense that the rest cannot truly uphold Stark values and therefore ultimately fail? Idk if I’m just pulling shit from thin air and this may not make much sense but I just think that fact might somehow imply that they’ll be the ones to uphold Stark values in the send and ultimately succeed in their endeavours.

Ofc I understand I’m ultimately damning Sansa, Bran and Rickon in this but I wouldn’t put it past GRRM to plan that far ahead and use some kind of magical heritage-related symbolism like that… and ofc nobody is safe in asoiaf so there’s that too.

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #house stark #sansa stark #bran stark #robb stark #arya stark #rickon stark #random 1am thoughts #1 am thoughts #its 1am

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syndrossi · 6 months ago

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Restoration AU: Arya I

Previous part, Jon I, here (or read the entire edited part 1 on AO3 here).

x~x~x

Something was wrong, and it had to do with Jon, who was absent from the Great Hall for supper. So was Theon, but that was far more common. And the chair that her father kept for one of the servants to dine with them was empty too.

Her father usually asked after their day, or her mother after their lessons, but both ate in silence, and Robb was glaring at Father like he had forbidden him from riding for a week, as he had a few moons ago when Robb had been caught with Theon sneaking back from winter town during the night, “drunk as a dog.” He was always trying to impress Theon for reasons Arya would never understand.

Sansa kept stealing glances at Arya as they ate, either in question or accusation, but she could only shrug. Bran knew, she thought after a few minutes’ study. He was fidgeting in his seat, looking like he dearly wished to speak but had been instructed otherwise.

When they had finished their plates, the scrape of Robb’s knife particularly loud in the large hall, Father stood, his face stony. “There is a matter I would speak of. Doubtless you have noticed that your half-brother Jon is absent.”

Arya frowned. Their father rarely called Jon anything but their brother. It was Sansa who turned her nose up and made sure to correct Arya whenever he was mentioned. As he opened his mouth to speak again, Mother stood, the sudden motion accompanied by the screech of wood on stone.

“I will not listen to this again,” she said, not even looking at Father as she reached to pick little Rickon up from his chair. Her footsteps fell heavy as she stormed from the room.

Robb’s own chair shifted, and Arya thought for a moment that he might go after her, but he settled, his glare at their father turning sharper still. Arya bit her lip, worry beginning to build. Her mother was easily upset when it came to Jon, but she did not know why Robb would be angry too.

“Did something happen to Jon?” Arya asked.

“No,” Father said, rubbing at his temples. He looked very tired, and a little sad. “Jon is looking after his brothers. Your half-brothers.”

“Our half-brothers?” Arya echoed uncertainly. She knew that “half-brother” meant “bastard,” and that a bastard was a child born outside of marriage. Jon had been born around the time that Robb had, before her parents had come to know and love one another.

“Twins,” her father confirmed with a nod. “They are near to you and Bran in age, Arya.”

Robb’s fists clenched. “So you simply could not wait for the realm to go to war again, is that it? Because it meant you could visit your foreign—” He glanced about the table, at Arya and Sansa, mouth pressing into a tight line. “What oaths do you hold sacred, Father?”

She had never heard Robb so angry. Although he was not shouting, his eyes glittered, as though he were holding back tears. Arya found herself grasping the arms of her chair, worried about how their father would respond.

“That is between myself and your mother,” Father said, though without heat. “Whatever anger you harbor for me, your brothers will need your kindness. They lost their mother, and were kidnapped from their home by those wishing to use them against our family. It is only through luck that they escaped their captors.”

“And I found them!” Bran announced. “They were just outside the wolfswood.”

Robb’s anger seemed to have given way to surprise. “Kidnapped? Who took them?”

“I do not yet know. I have sent out a number of knights and men-at-arms to the wolfswood in search. The boys described what they recalled of their captor, but they were given dreamwine to keep them docile.”

Robb’s fist rapped against the top of the table. “Why was I not sent out with them in search? Or Jon?”

“Because you and Jon are yet boys,” Father said, summoning the scowl back to Robb’s face. “And I do not yet know the shape of this plot. Perhaps a full-blooded Stark captive would suit their purposes better. Your efforts are best spent looking after your siblings, old and new.” His gaze swept through all of them. “None of you are to wander beyond the gates of Winterfell until these men are caught.”

Arya nodded solemnly in response, but within, she felt abuzz with excitement. New siblings, enemies seeking to steal them away in the night. It was like something out of the interesting histories, or the games of pretend she would play with Bran—and Sansa before she decided that she preferred needlepoint and cooing over knights with Jeyne Poole.

“When do we get to meet the twins? What are their names? Do they look like me and Jon?”

Father blinked. “Their names are Willam and Raymar. Willam—has the Stark look, like you and your brother. Raymar has more of his mother’s look.” If Robb’s scowl were any fiercer, Arya thought his face might end up stuck that way. “They are supping with Jon and will stay with him in his chamber.” He gave Arya a stern look. “It has been a long day for them, you may meet your brothers in the morning.”

She huffed with disappointment. Bran had met them already, it didn’t seem fair that the rest of them should have to wait. Then again, Father had not said that they couldn’t meet them tonight. Arya snuck a glance at Sansa, curious whether she felt the same, but her sister was staring at the surface of the table, face red with upset.

“If that is all, may I be excused, Father?” her sister asked.

Their father’s face grew sadder still. “Sansa—”

“I will escort her to her chamber,” Robb interrupted, moving to offer their sister his arm. She took it, mouth trembling as though she might burst into tears, and Robb shifted to pull her into a side hug instead, arm around her shoulders as he led her out of the hall.

Arya stared after them, her mood dimming for the first time. Jon has explained to her once what a bastard was. He was like Father in that way, always willing to answer questions, even if they might be shameful ones. She still didn’t understand exactly how it worked, but she knew that it was a betrayal, the kind that Mother blamed Jon for.

“Do you still love Mother?” she asked.

Her voice sounded small in the Great Hall, and Father rose from his seat to crouch beside her and Bran, placing a large hand on each of their heads. “I love your mother with all my heart, but my deeds have hurt her deeply. She will need your love in the coming weeks.”

She nodded beneath his hand. “Are you ashamed of the twins?” He had brought Jon back with him as a babe, but not their other brothers.

Father sighed. “No, they are innocent in this. They too will need your love. This is a strange place to them, and we are still strangers, rather than kin.”

And they had been kidnapped from their home. “I will show them every part of Winterfell,” Arya promised. “So that they can feel that it is home.”

“I can show them too!” Bran said quickly. “I know places that you haven’t been.”

Father regarded him with a knowing look. “Places that you are forbidden from climbing to?” Bran ducked his head, but Father’s hand followed it. “No climbing, Bran, especially not with danger about.”

Bran’s mouth opened like he wanted to protest, but he closed it with a nod.

“It will be—difficult, for a time. You may hear unkind words said about your brothers, or perhaps even about me. You must be kind, where others are not.”

It was Sansa who their father should be speaking to, Arya thought with a frown. She would likely be one of those saying unkind things. But they both assured him that they would protect their new brothers.

“Wild as the two of you can be, you have gentle hearts.” Father pulled them in close for a hug, then stood, lifting them both from their chairs in a single motion before setting them on their feet. “Come, let us get you back to your rooms.”

x~x~x

Arya did eventually try to sleep, but after Father had walked with them to bring their direwolf pups to the kennels, she no longer had the distraction of playing with Nymeria, and she certainly wasn’t going to practice her stitches. She brought out one of the books that Maester Luwin had given her to help learn High Valyrian, because Father had told them during their walk that the twins had grown up in a noble household in Lys and spoke the language.

But High Valyrian was difficult even with a maester explaining it and she set it aside after only a few minutes, drumming her fingers atop her lap. She snuffed the lamp then, and settled into bed, closing her eyes.

Sleep refused to come. She kept thinking about Robb’s anger, and Sansa crying, and Mother’s cold fury. She thought about Jon then, and what he thought about his two new siblings. She hadn’t considered it earlier, but doubt plagued her now. Would he prefer them to her because they were his full siblings and boys? Their Stark looks had always been something special the two of them shared.

What were they like, the twins? Would they be quiet and watchful like Jon? Would they be perfect and proper like Sansa?

After tossing from side to side until she could no longer stand it, Arya threw the blanket off and dressed herself again. Her bedchamber was not too far from Jon’s, but when she cracked the door open, she saw Cayn disappear around the corner, which was strange. Perhaps Father was more worried about the kidnappers than he had told them.

She waited a few seconds, then slipped out, tip-toeing down the hall until she reached the end. She peeked around the corner and waited until Cayn had disappeared from view again before hurrying to Jon’s door, where she knocked as quietly as she could.

Several harrowing seconds passed before the door opened at last—just a sliver at first, but once Jon’s gaze dropped to her, he opened it wider. Arya stared up at him, the uncertainty of the past few hours catching up to her at last in the form of blurred tears.

“Here,” Jon said, and she flung her arms around him in a hug that he returned with a comforting squeeze.

The door was closed behind her, and when she pulled back, brushing her eyes with a sleeve, she spotted their new brothers sitting atop Jon’s bed, petting Ghost. Father had said that they were her age or younger, but to her disappointment, they looked bigger—almost Sansa’s age.

Raymar drew her gaze first, because of his strange coloring. His hair was so pale he almost reminded her of Ghost, and it fell loose over his shoulders and down his back, much longer than most boys or men wore theirs. His eyes looked dark at first, like Willam’s and Jon’s, but in the candlelight she could see that they were blue, perhaps—or purple. That was not uncommon in Lys, she remembered learning.

Sansa will be jealous, Arya thought with something like satisfaction. There is finally someone prettier than her.

Arya had spent enough time wishing she were pretty like her sister, rather than “Arya Horseface,” that it only seemed fair that her sister should have to know what it felt like. It is not as though I only want it to impress boys, either.

He did not lift his chin under her gaze, the way Sansa did when someone noticed her and she wanted to preen about it. He simply returned it, his curiosity dampened by a sorrow that made her own chest ache in response, so she looked away, seeking his twin instead.

Willam, looked so much like Jon that they could have been twins, if they were the same age. His hair was straighter than Jon’s and slightly lighter, worn loose down to his shoulders. At first she thought that maybe his eyes were purple too, but after a few seconds, she decided they must be a grey like Jon’s. He had far more of the Stark look than his brother, but softened somehow. His face was longer than his twin’s, but not horselike, like hers.

He also looked sad as he stared back at her, something like longing in his eyes, and Arya understood what Father had meant about them needing their family. No mother, no siblings, and they have never known Father.

She walked up to the bed. “I’m Arya, your sister.” The twins hurried to their feet to give a proper bow of greeting, introducing themselves as well, and then, inspired, she added in her best High Valyrian, “Welcome to Winterfell.”

They blinked at her in unison, like she had always imagined twins would, and the delight of it made her smile. She hugged Raymar first, who tensed before gingerly returning the hug. Then she hugged Willam, who dug his chin into her shoulder and returned the hug with all the fierceness of one of Jon’s hugs. She could feel him shaking a little and when she pulled back in concern, she found that he was crying.

She hoped it wasn’t because she had reminded them of their own home. “I will help Jon show you around tomorrow,” she said, seeking to distract him. “And you can meet my direwolf, Nymeria.” She reached out a hand to give Ghost a scritch, hastily adding, “Ghost is different from the other pups too, but that just means he’s special.”

They hopped back onto the bed, alternating pats and scratches to Ghost, while Jon dragged a chair over, since there wasn’t room for everyone.

“What are some things that you like?” Arya asked, curious about just how much their lives had differed, growing up in Lys. “I like wolves, riding, and archery. I hate embroidery.”

Raymar answered first. “I like—riding as well, and archery. I also like history, swords, and singing.” Willam’s head jerked toward his brother, who added, “I enjoy playing the harp.”

Willam seemed dismayed for some reason, while his twin stared back almost in challenge. Arya looked between them, uncertain what had upset them. Perhaps their mother used to play, and it reminded them of her?

“Sansa has a harp that she plays,” Arya said. “She’s your other sister.” Sansa probably wouldn’t let Raymar play it, now that she thought about it. “There are lots of horses too, and I ride my own now, and sometimes I go out and practice with a bow. I cross sticks with our brother Bran too.” She smiled encouragingly at Willam, who still looked on the verge of upset. “What about you?”

“I like wolves,” Willam said, gaze dropping to Ghost, who was giving his hand puppy kisses. “I like training with my brother, especially with swords. I like—” He paused for a while, frowning. “Understanding how a holdfast is run.”

Arya’s brow furrowed. That wasn’t quite what she had meant, but perhaps Willam hoped to become a lord’s steward someday.

“He likes playing chase and discovering places we haven’t been to,” Raymar said.

Bran would like that. “Playing chase in the godswood is fun. I can show you the hot springs!” Father probably wouldn’t let them go riding until the kidnappers were found. The twins were lucky, she thought glumly, they would actually be allowed to practice archery and swordfighting in the yard without anyone raising a fuss like they would if Arya wanted to.

She asked them about food next, feeling bad that they hadn’t been allowed to sup with them in the Great Hall, but Raymar was able to tell her all about the strange things that were common to eat in Lys. Consuming lots of fish and other sea creatures was apparently very common, and he named many colorful-sounding fruits and vegetables she hadn’t heard of. Even Jon seemed intrigued.

Arya had fun telling them about northern delicacies, and Willam’s face lit up when she mentioned rhubarb, which he declared a favorite. “Mine too!” she told him. “And Jon’s. He likes it better in pie, but Gage pickles them too and lets me sneak slices from the kitchen.”

She turned to Raymar, who looked a little mystified. “I—it is not common, where we are from. It has been so long that I cannot recall what I thought when we tried it.”

If she asked nicely, Arya knew Gage would make rhubarb pie for them tomorrow. She bit her tongue rather than say it aloud, though, so it would come as a surprise.

A knock came at the door then, and Arya froze, certain at first that she had been caught. But as Jon moved to the door, the knock came again, soft and hesitant. If it were Father, or one of the guards, they would have rapped much harder.

It was Bran, who greeted the twins with familiarity, though he did mistakenly call Willam “Jon” once. Upon learning of Willam’s love of chase, and Raymar’s for hiding games, he convinced the twins that they should play hide-the-treasure the next morning.

It was Jon who interrupted then, with a strained smile. “Father may desire a chance to acquaint our brothers with the castle first.”

“We can do that,” Bran said.

“I do not mean the nooks and crannies that you know so well, but rather the people. It will—surprise many of the household to learn of our new brothers.”

Because they were bastards, Arya realized, recalling what Father had said about unkind words. They might be angry like Robb and Mother. “We can come along.”

Jon kissed her hair, but his smile still did not reach his eyes. “There is no need. I will be with them.”

Bran looked disappointed. “But they are our brothers too.”

“Give it time,” Jon said.

Usually he spoke plainly, especially to Arya, but she could tell that he was holding back, either because of Bran or the twins. He means Robb—and Mother. Robb’s anger would pass, Arya knew. It always burned hot and fast. But in all the years, Mother’s heart had not warmed to Jon, even though he was nothing but gentle towards them.

I do not care what is said about bastards. Theon is trueborn and Jon is worth ten of him. There is no wickedness in his heart.

“Father will not thank me for keeping you awake,” Jon said, helping her and Bran to their feet. “And Ghost needs to return to the kennels for the night.”

Willam looked heartbroken as Jon took the dozing Ghost from his arms, causing the pup to give a sleepy yawn. Arya’s own jaw creaked open in response, and she let Jon shepherd her to the door, where she paused to turn back toward the twins.

Though they had cheered some during their conversation, their earlier melancholy had returned. Raymar sat with his arms wrapped tightly around his drawn legs, head resting upon his knees, his gaze distant. Willam was still cross-legged, but he stared after them with a painful yearning that made her want to rush back and hug him.

Jon’s hand on her back prodded her forward, however, and she was tired enough by the late hour that when her head finally hit her pillow, sleep found her soon after.

x~x~x

Up next: What better time for Robb to decide to pay his own visit than when Jon's out taking Ghost to the kennels?

(Poor Sansa, who's a little more aware of what marriage is and the implications of bastards, is dealing with her own crisis over her father's dishonorable behavior, so she won't be joining the Starkling invasion on Jon's bedchamber.)

#resonant 'verse restoration au #resonant concept writing

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