#and then have oldtown be controlled by 1 family

[lemonhemlock]

so, i'm going through your anti team black tag and living my best life, but one post in particular that you made got me thinking.

“george made damn sure rhaenyra’s bloodline sat on the throne at the end bc, if the hightowers won, house targaryen would have been reformed, and he couldn’t kill them all off at the end of the main series”

i'm pretty sure this might've just been a joke, but it makes me curious. do you think something like a targaryen reformation would be possible, hypothetically speaking? i certainly wouldn't mind it in a "greens win" AU scenario, but that's just me. i wanna know if anyone else sees potential in this. 💚💚💚

Hello, yes, this was mostly a joke, as it happens. 😅 (anon is referring to this post) To introduce another lengthy parenthesis, I remember at the time that some of the reactions to that post were in the range for "why doesn't anyone understand that the Hightowers are also feudal lords vying for their own interests and not some great reformists out to save Westeros", which... Listen. 😄 To put equitably, this fandom has a considerable issue with knowing when to level criticism and when to just treat banter as lighthearted horsing around and not take it too seriously. Something which even I'm not exempt from, I don't think. 🤷‍♀️

So, in the interest of making a meme, that post was kind of half-true in that it simplified a more nuanced concept (that was never an avenue that the author decided to explore anyway) for the sake of humour. I have, in the past, detailed my thoughts on House Hightower and what I think is their role in the wider narrative. This is based on the information we have on them presently. If I'm wrong, then I'm wrong. Who knows, maybe Lord Leyton and Melara plan on blowing Oldtown up for shits and giggles. We don't have to guess everything correctly - another aspect this community struggles with in their fandom wars and obsession with having the most correct, morally pure take.

Regardless, yes, the Hightowers obviously are a privileged family at the top of the social food chain, benefitting from the exploitation awarded by feudalism - a political-economic system based on vast inequality. Therefore, any type of reform they might be willing to undertake will be limited and not really something that significantly changes the status-quo. Just like the beloved, fan-favourite, and mostly confirmed "winners" - the Starks. A third element that our fandom has trouble accepting is the concept of incremental change. I feel like it would basically be a truism to point out that incremental change has been the most reliable vector of socio-economic evolution throughout human history. So, bad news for them, I suppose, but any superficial study of history will reveal that feudalism hardly collapsed overnight. Which leads us back to the idea that any small change, no matter how limited, does matter in the long run, because, as time passes, it will be compounded with another small change and so on.

Anyway, coming back to the question. Would Targaryen reformation be possible? Certainly! GRRM could have made up any story he wanted. Anything is possible if you plan for it and it makes sense within your worldbuilding. As it stands, the Targaryens are foreigners with a questionable culture, hailing from a land that used to engage in practices that even the feudal Westerosi found backwards, distasteful, barbaric or immoral: slavery, human sacrifice, incest, great feats of violence such as pillaging and conquering neighbouring lands for the sake of feeding their population to their volcano gods etc. The Targaryens also have fire-breathing monsters that, while not exactly enough all the time to prevent any rebellions from happening, are weapons that no one else has access to and that can cause a great deal of damage that no one else can replicate.

So, in order to "reform" and integrate, they would need to renounce all that. They would need to do it the traditional way. They do some of the work, but never go all the way. They accept the main religion of the land, but they don't let go of inter-marrying, because they don't want to lose their access to dragons. There are attempts to integrate, but, by the time of the events of the main series, they have returned to incest. Funnily enough, Aegon V plays a role in both - he marries outside of the family and has no dragons left, but his succeeding son and daughter marry each other and, eventually, Aegon decides that bringing back dragons is not such a bad idea after all. I do think that the symbolic weight of Daenerys having both her parents and her grandparents as brother-sister sets is laying the "dragon blood" metaphor thick - and that it holds more magical weight than any mathematical calculation of her actual watered-down Targaryen DNA.

In any such scenario where GRRM decided to go down a Targaryen reformation path, IMO it would have been thematically-relevant to ease into it via a marriage alliance with one of the oldest families in Westeros - a well-respected, rich house that also has close links to both the only centre of higher education and the main religious organization in the land. Hence the meme. :) But it doesn't last and the Targaryens go back to their dastardly ways eventually, that's the point of them in the story, because the author chose it to be the point.

[pastel-nature]

My Pretty Little Bastard (Part 2)

Yandere!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

A/N: All characters in this fic have been properly aged up to 18+. Please forgive spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my first language.

You can read Part 1 here:

TW: abusive behavior, stalking, breach of privacy, targcest between uncle and niece, implied noncon.

Aemond was happy, at least you think so. His touches gentle as he laid his cloak on your shoulder, the slight squeeze on your shoulder reassuring as you rise and face the crowd as husband and wife. He smiled at you, genuine you would like to think, for you never see such expression on his face. 

Low whispers that used to taunt you, gave you comfort that day, in the morning he promises to keep you safe, in the afternoon to keep the family united, and in the night to be gentle. 

The first bedding night still hurts, but the kisses on your temple, apologies, and the gleaming sapphire in the place of his missing eye gave you something else to focus on.

And so, you too strive to be happy. 

You speak naught of the letters to your family. Now that Aemond has changed for the better, you can start anew.

You shielded Aemond with appreciations when your Daemon jabbed on your ‘miserable appearance’.

Even your mother, the woman who was supposed to know you in and out, hugged you in glee. A marriage full of love and passion is a blessing my love. 

Grandsire, in his Kingly outfit, joins the family dinner that day. None of your pleas stuck in his mind it seems. He toast for his handsome son and lovely granddaughter, a new branch to strengthen the dynasty.

Aemond by nature is not a warm person but his efforts shone when he makes time to accompany your daily stroll in the garden of the Red Keep. At times with a book to read, another times with flowers in hand, and that one particular time a sapphire ring to adorn your finger with, a piece of him.

Your life is a dream, mother was right, this marriage is a blessing and you will try your hardest to keep it so. A good dutiful wife is what you strive to be, long forgotten are the dreams to one day came back to Dragonstone, claim a dragon, and soar high in the sky. No, your place is here, right by Aemond’s side.

Nightly activities are stilted still, but both of you made an effort. Some days your husband even went out of his way to pleasure you. The more pleasure involved, the higher chance it is for you to get pregnant my love.

You blushed and nodded.

He’s slowly morphing into a different creature by night. Naked in all senses, unguarded and honest.

When you confronted him about the letters he broke down in tears. Admission of his own insecurities and fears slipped out of his mouth.

I was afraid of losing you to someone else, or that you may have felt that I am not good enough to have you. 

I am not well, not inside, my fears caused me to act irrationally and impulsively.

In this violent and tumultuous world I have to be feared, to pursue power and control at any cost. For you…

For our family, he landed a hopeful kiss on top of your stomach.

When your moon blood ceased to flow and your belly began to swell, Aemond took the last part of his vow with fervor and determination.

Oldtown? You asked him. 

He carefully explains that the difficult pregnancy and the duties of a princess weigh heavily on you. It is best you reside in my new estate, free of burden, to focus on our child.

Built just outside the Oldtown we will have the best maesters and medicines - as well as daily blessings from the sept, to aid your pregnancy.

Lets not worry about your parents, and siblings, they have dragons don’t they? They can visit whenever they want.

And I promise this time, your letters are yours.

The journey to Aemond’s estate was a strangely tense one, with guards, lots of them, and you can even hear the sound of a marching army behind your entourage. Not that you are allowed to look. I do not want you out there, these men deserve not a speck of your attention my love. We are fast approaching anyway.

Loneliness is one thing. It is what you are good at. Years alone at the Red Keep with no one to call allies had prepared you for that.

But total isolation is another matter. 

Upon your arrival it's apparent that you had made a wrong move, this place is a prison. Its bars gilded with gold, its high walls decorated with flowers, its guards and warden wear silks, but prison all the same.

Forget the promised letters and visits, you could not even see out of the windows, not since you entered the carriage that brought you out of the Red Keep.

Is this place even anywhere near Oldtown? You find yourself wondering with no one to ask, not even Aemond.

Ever since you arrived here, Aemond swiftly took off with Vhagar, said his duties awaits him.

By spring, your belly began to prominently swell, it has been the 5th moon since the maesters declared you pregnant, and 4th moon since you arrived in this castle.

Aemond returned intermittently, to give you gifts, hug and kiss you, even bed you. 

Yet he never stayed for the night.

Nor did he indulge in your questions.

Streaks of 10 year old Aemond came up now and then, the boy with disgust in his eye and poison in his words.

And you, once again, learn to avoid him.

Alone as usual, you sang and told tales to your only companion, your belly and the child inside it. But that night something arose, a sinister thing that chokes your nerves and filled your mind with dread as you hear people screaming in pain.

The barn caught fire your grace, please be at ease it will be over soon, your maid said before she fell to the floor, blood on her back.

Princess? A voice called for you.

A/N: Thank you for the encouragement and kind words, I hope you don’t mind the cliffhanger. Reader-chan is still suffering with no happy ending in sight. Well, that’s what you get for gullibly trusting man like Aemond.

Part 3 is out

[balbigalum]

Thank you so soooo much for doing my modern!aemond HC! Loved that you combined it to your other modern HC. And I have to agree with the other comments. I would also love another part! It is an amazing story and I would love to read more. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

nsfw under the cut

(part 1, part 2)

Days came and went and you didn’t hear back from Aemond. Some small hope had settled on your shoulders when he had come back to the flat and held you close but now it was gone. You sat by yourself during class and spent your free time studying for the finals, you didn’t want to think about Aemond anymore, you’d do anything to keep yourself occupied, but finals were done and now it was just you and your mind.

You’d stare at the painting of Azor Ahai and Nissa Nissa often these days, just watching it, you weren’t sure why, you knew how that story ended and didn’t matter how much you stared at the painting it would remain the same. Nissa Nissa dies, scared and by the hand of her only love, Azor Ahai saves the world and then what? Did he ever find love again? Did he waste away, holding onto the promise that killing her was for the greater good even if his heart said the opposite? You had to revisit the myth, to look up what happened to him after, maybe find where he was buried and visit the grave. Why? You weren’t sure, you weren’t sure of many things these days. 

A cup of tea rested between your hands while you were lost inside your own mind, it was cold by now, when you finally looked down you saw your phone had a few notifications piling up, none from Aemond of course. A couple friends from back home sending you stuff on social media, some funny video that reminded them of you when you were in secondary school, some emails from the bank, a message from your father, you were going to block your phone and leave it at the table when you saw an email that got your attention. It wasn’t junk mail but it wasn’t from anybody you knew. Its format was professional, your full name on display, in front of it a “Miss”, you frowned, nobody called you miss unless you were at your father’s office. 

The email contained a brief introduction, a date and a place on the upper eastside, the most exclusive part of Oldtown, discretion about this information was advised, if you were to accept this meeting you were legally binded to keep your mouth shut about it. You weren’t sure emails could pose as legal contracts but you didn’t want to reach to your family’s lawyer and have her tell your dad about whatever this was about. The email lacked a signature, on the bottom of the page appeared “A.H.T” and nothing else. 

You tried to pretend you didn’t care about it, tried to persuade yourself to think this wasn't related to Aemonda at all. A.H.T. You knew a quick google search would tell you if Aemond had a middle name, one that started with an H, but you didn’t wanna give into the temptation, it was best to keep him out, wasn’t it? 

The date the email had proposed was coming closer, it felt like the calendar on your wall was ready to burst into flames and engulf your whole apartment with you in it. When you managed to bite into every single of the nails on your left hand you’ve made a decision, you would show up, if Aemond wanted to say something you wanted to hear it. You tried to look inside of yourself, figure out how you felt, you weren’t angry at him, this was outside of his own control, you told yourself. Yes, he could have spoken out, act like a man and inform his family he wasn’t theirs to control, but at the same time, why would he sacrifice so much of himself just for you? 

-

The restaurant was expensive and private, when you announced yourself to the host at the front door he led you to a secluded table, a woman was waiting for you. She was older and possessed a beauty not many did, her hair was auburn and she was wearing large sunglasses, when she saw you she took them off, a tense smile on her lips. You sat across from her and she ordered for the two of you– just coffee. When the waiter was gone she finally broke the silence.

“I’m glad you came.” She said simply. You weren’t sure what to reply to that, you gave her a small smile, it was obvious that she was in control of this encounter and you weren’t sure how much you were allowed to ask. She was Alicent Hightower, wife to Viserys Targaryen. A.H.T. She told you some information about yourself disguised as small talk, something about your studies and who your father was, you nodded along trying to not give away how nervous this whole thing was making you feel. When the waiter brought both coffees and left her whole demeanor changed, it turned darker, she sighed and looked at her cup.

“What did my son do to you?” She asked, you froze in place. Aemond had upsetted you but you were confused at the interest of his mother over the subject, Aemond wasn’t even your boyfriend, you had shared small moments of tenderness and that was it. 

“I understand it’s hard to speak about it but you have a reputation and so does my family and I believe it’s in our best interest to manage this situation in private.” She reached out to you and held your hand, her grip was hard and not comforting at all, she was worried about this– even more worried than you were. 

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, ma’am.” You said. She dropped your hand and a thick silence made itself present between the two of you as she read your face. 

“My son hurt you.” She said. “Didn’t he? Aemond?” His name came out choked in his mother’s voice, like she didn’t want to say it. You shook your head.

“We had a… disagreement?” You said, you weren’t sure what to call that whole situation without having to get in detail. “But nothing more than that… He apologized already.” She seemed disoriented at that, she wasn’t expecting that. 

“Oh.” She said. “Forgive me then, I often find myself having to correct my son’s wrongdoings,” She drank from her coffee. “Aegon’s.” She added to clarify. 

“I’m sorry if I wasted your time, ma’am,” You said and she shook her head dismissing you.

“No, no, it was my mistake.” She didn’t say much after that, neither of you finished your coffee, she paid and said goodbye, you did the same. On your way home you debated the events, no Aemond, just his mother, he probably didn’t even know her mother spoke with you. You were warming up at the idea of just letting this whole thing go, chances were that next semester Aemond would do everything in his power to not share a class with you, you were never going to see him again. You knew it wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, you shared a kiss and some meals, and your apartment and small conversations no one else heard, but that didn’t mean much in the long term, you weren’t allowed to mourn something that didn’t exist. 

-

In your dreams you got phone calls from Alicent, in your dreams you saw Aemond from across the street, in some he runs your way and asks for your notes, in some others he looks at you with disgust and leaves, even Aegon shows up sometimes wearing those hoodies that seem to swallow him whole asking you what do you do with his brother. You’re not proud to admit how much this is affecting you, you consider calling your psychiatrist a couple of times, maybe you should go back home for the next semester, be with people you know and not locked away in your apartment, bored and alone, with your own mind eating you alive. 

You tried to get out more, you invited some friends over whenever you could, you tried to stay away from solitude even if you didn’t really want to. It’s been just a week since you’ve seen Alicent and it still turns your stomach around. 

A new dress hugged your body while you were getting ready to go out, another desperate attempt to distract yourself, it was a deep violet color and you were sure you had some earrings that matched it. Before you could go get them someone rang your doorbell, you rolled your eyes, oftentimes when the flower shop downstairs was closed, people would call at your door thinking you might be the owner. You opened your balcony window and yelled.

“Wrong buzzer,” You said loudly. “It’s closed, man!” You didn’t even get to close the balcony window when it rang again, and again. “Gods.” You huffed. You made your way down the stairs to explain to them you had nothing to do with the shop. 

“Listen, sorry, but if it’s closed—” Aemond stood in front of you. You swallowed hard. It felt like you were seeing him for the very first time, really seeing him. Tall and handsome, his silver hair framing him, the same color as the moon, his lilac eye looking at you, waiting for something. “Aem–” He didn’t give you a chance to finish, his hands cupping your face quickly, kissing you deeply. 

“M’sorry, sorry,” He mumbled against your mouth, his breathing was labored, his movements were heavy, lacking his usual grace and smoothness, you thought you might be able to smell a tint of whiskey coming from him, he almost made you stumble back but catched you, hand on the small of your back.

“Aemond, wait,” You tried to speak. “I– Let’s go upstairs, please.” He nodded and allowed you to close the door behind him, you guided him to your apartment, even thought he had been there before, and he let you, holding his hand. He felt softer than most days, tender. 

Once you were in the safety of your apartment he hugged you from behind, draping himself on you, breathing you in, he sighed. “I missed you.” He said against the back of your neck. "I really did. I was so angry at Aegon after that night, and my mother she…” He didn’t finish the sentence. 

“Do they know you’re here?” You asked, you weren’t angry, just curious. He hummed, his thumb caressing your stomach. “I like your dress.” He commented, you liked having him this close, his embrace felt secure. 

“It’s not gonna happen again,” He said. “My mother, she can be a little… tricky and volatile. Aegon makes things hard for her.” He left the explanation floating in the air, you weren’t sure if he knew his mother had reached out to you, you figured you could ask him what he meant later, right now you just wanted him. You wanted him to take away every single worry he had planted in you like seeds, even the ones he left on accident.

You turned around to see him face to face and this time you kissed him. Slow and steady, finding your own ground. His hands played with your dress, you couldn’t blame him, the fabric was soft to the touch, he mapped your body, your waist and back, your neck and arms. “Aemond…” You said, trying to call his attention back to you. “Yes?” He replied, a mischievous smile on his face, his attention still on your body. “What do you need?” He asked, acting oblivious at the clear circumstance you both were in. “Aemond,” You repeated, this time it sounded closer to a whine. 

He lifted you up easily and it surprised you a little bit, he brought you two back to your room and settled you on the big bed that occupied it. He looked at you like you were prey, you knew he was holding himself back, you wanted him closer to you, as close as possible. He admired you for a second, allowing his hand to slowly stroke your leg, finding its way under your skirt and up your thigh, lifting up your skirt by a couple of inches and then going back down.

“I really like this dress,” He said. 

“You’ve already said that.” You reminded him, he smiled at you and kissed you, he was warmer than ever and you were starting to suffocate under so much clothes, you tried pulling at his shirt to let him know. “What is it?” He asked. “Off,” You pulled softly again. “I want it off… please?” A sudden wave of shame crossed your body until he sat back and unbuttoned his shirt.

He was pale and lean, he had a good build, you knew he trained but seeing it in front of you was different. 

“I want this off too,” He said, pulling at your dress. “Let me see you.” A shiver ran through your body and it pooled between your legs, you allowed him to take it off. Quickly he found a place in your neck, kissing and biting softly his way down your chest, you let a high pitched noise out when he sunk his teeth on your breast, kissing right over it after, his other hand was playing with the hem of your underwear. He was all over, you felt surrounded by him. 

“I’m sorry for leaving you all alone these past days,” He said, kissing down your stomach and taking your underwear off, you were exposed to him now, bare and horribly turned on. “I thought about you so many times… so many times,” He repeated while kissing your body. He spread your legs slightly, looking right at your center and you couldn’t help but blush, still that didn’t change the fact that seeing him in that position, pupils blown out, made you wet. 

“I feel I owe you.” He finished his sentence and placed a kiss on your venus mount, you held your breath as he sunk himself in your core, you could feel his tongue working you right where you needed it. He held your hips down against the bed to keep you from squirming and you couldn’t help but whine, especially when he paid attention to your clit, you were familiar with the sensation that was making its way to the pit of your stomach. 

You settled a testing hand on his hair, trying your best not to pull it, you just wanted to feel him, to let him know how he was making you feel. “Aemond,” You tried speaking but he continued, you felt a small vibration against you, had he moaned? The thought of him getting off to this, to him eating you out, the idea of him getting as much pleasure from it as you did tipped you over the edge. You called his name again and he stayed there drinking from you like it was the only thing that mattered in the world, helping you ride out your orgasm slowly. 

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and you tried not thinking much about it. You gave him a breathless smile and tried to pull him closer to you. His skin feelt hot to the touch, like he had a fever, and you just wanted to burn with him. He brushed your hair out of your face and you did the same to him, you took a second to look at his face, he was handsome, you knew that, you kissed him again, a chaste kiss this time while caressing his cheek and he leaned onto the touch.

“Let me?” You said, a hand on his belt and he nodded looking at your hands while you undid it, you could see him hard underneath his pants, wanting and waiting. He helped you take them fully off and you wanted to moan at his desire. 

He grabbed you tightly by your waist while he fucked you, you wanted him to fully let go, to let you have all of him. He let his forehead fall against yours while he trusted in and out of you. 

“I like you like this,” He said, you had a hard time keeping your eyes fully open. “You’re beautiful, even more than I imagined.” 

“You–” A small moan interrupted you when his thumb started caressing your clit. “You imagined?” You said, you weren’t sure how much sense you were making but he knew what you were asking, he let out a small laugh. “I did, yes… And I felt horrible for doing such thing,” He confessed, you tried to keep some of your focus on him while the rest of your mind was lost in the feeling of him, and his body, and how he was filling you up just right. “But I couldn’t help it, you know,” His movements got harder and faster, he was chasing his own pleasure now. “I just… I just need to be close to you.” It made sense now that he said it, the amount of times he stayed at your place for no other reason than just to see you. 

“Aemond.” You signed for no particular reason, you were getting closer to another orgasm with the way he was fucking into you, your hand over his while he touched you. “You’re gonna give me another one?” He asked and you nodded hard. He kissed you again, messy and sloppy, he was close too, you were becoming obsessed with the small noises he was letting out when he thought you weren’t really listening, you whined against his lips and he lifted your right leg over his shoulder for a better angle. You choked out a sob while you came, he followed soon after with a groan deep in his chest.

He stayed there for a minute, holding you in place, chest heaving, his pristine hair messy and a small layer of sweat made his skin glow. Even his pale chest was blushed now. 

He went into your bathroom without much of a word, when he came back he cleaned you softly like you could break. 

“Things are going to be easier now,” He said, petting your hair and kissing your cheek before getting into bed and manhandling you to be on top of him. “Only if you want to.” He added.

“I want to.” You said, your eyes were already closed and you were nuzzling his chest. He drew patterns on your back lazily. You were fighting to stay awake but you could sense he was brooding, thinking about a thousand things. You grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles.

“It’s okay,” You assured him. “We can’t talk in the morning, I promise.” You kissed his temple and fell asleep.

taglist: siriusdumblittlepuppy; ohitsthemaster; mariaelizabeth21-blog1

[bonesandthebees]

rhaenicent! rhaenicent! rhaenicent! One of the very few things that kept me engaged with the 5 episodes of house of Dragon I did watch (the combination of Cole being like THAT and the very sudden time skip threw me off so badly I stopped watching during ep 6 (but my mom still gave me all the plot updates).

Anyway, I love this au! I love when people really dig into the worldbuilding and figure out what would be affected by the changes. Having no Targaryens means Otto can’t work his way up to the right hand of the king as easily (or does not deem it worth the effort since it’s way smaller a country). But he still tries to get his daughter married to a royal anyway. (And it’s really fucked up that he tells her this her entire live, like she’s not even officially engaged, there’s no signed contract, he’s just that confident in his own ability to marry off his daughter.)

But it makes sense that Alicent is so brainwashed that it’s not only normal to her, she’s comforted by it. As long as she knows she’ll marry someone her own age, she’s fine with being married off. The prospects are good after all. And she feels no attraction to either of them, so she does not care which son it ends up being.

The thing that throws her off, isn’t having to marry, it’s the combination of her secure future being changed so easily without her having any control over it as well as the fact that this king is very old (which poor canon Alicent btw). Tbf, I think the age throws her more since she can kinda see the logic of why he is the ‘best’ option (essentially, her father could get his blood on the throne a generation earlier, provided that both other sons die before being crowned). It gives her immediate sway over the crown.

But while bearing the children of the younger man didn’t bother her, she knows bearing the king’s children would be an actively unpleasant experience. Thus she is incredibly stressed about the very idea of it (mainly because she knows her father is considering it, and while he has yet to confirm or arrange anything, she has clearly already figured out the advantages on her own and knows it to be something her father would take).

And yet, when Rhaynyra points out that she could refuse, Alicent insists that she is bound by duty (and the sexism). Again, my girl is brainwashed. She has to do this, no matter how unenjoyable it would be, for her family, to protect her family, to empower her family because her father said so who said that? Not me.

Anyway, this is getting long, so moving on to another ask.

(1/?)

-🌲

spruce do you know how excited I got when this popped in my inbox I forgot you've seen some hotd so I wasn't expecting to hear from just about any of my regulars about the fic but I'm !!! rn (also that's very fair for dropping off, I am waiting with bated breath every episode hoping crispin cole dies in horrible agony I hate him so much)

honestly a big reason why I wanted to write this was because of all the changes to the world I'd get dig into if the targaryens never went on their conquest. Otto is in a very different position in this world since he's not the Hand of the King, and instead just kind of helps his brother run things in Oldtown. but also because the Reach is a much smaller kingdom and the Hightowers have such a close relationship with the Gardeners, as a family they have a higher standing. that's why Otto already knows he'll be able to arrange a marriage for Alicent from the day she's born. the Hightowers themselves are practically Reach royalty in this world. not to mention, the Hightowers are the lords of Oldtown, which in the canon asoiaf universe is the largest and richest city in all the Seven Kingdoms. so in this au where the Reach is it's own kingdom, Oldtown is a huge center of power and influence.

the thing about Alicent is that although she is much more okay with the idea of marrying someone her own age, I think if she ever had actually gotten to her wedding day with one of the princes then she would've started feeling similar anxiety and dread. not as much as she's feeling over the idea of marrying the King, but she wouldn't be as calm having to actually confront the idea of having a husband and all the duties that come with that (I am a lesbian Alicent truther I will die on that hill). however, this fear was greatly sped up and multiplied with the knowledge that instead of marrying a handsome boy her own age who she would at least have some things in common with, instead she is going to marry a man more than twice her age. and like you pointed out, there's also the aspect that her future has changed so suddenly without her having even the slightest bit of agency over it. she's always known she doesn't have any control of her own life, but this is a really stark reminder of that fact.

and Alicent is smart. she's Otto Hightower's daughter for a reason. she can immediately see and understand the political implications and what her father's strategy is. there is no reason for her father not to make the switch and marry Alicent to the king, except if he were to consider Alicent's feelings on the matter. which Alicent already knows he will never do. and Alicent has been raised to believe this is normal. this is how the world should work. this is what her duty is as a daughter. poor girl :(

[duxbelisarius]

The Dance of the Dragons: A Military Analysis (Pt. 13)

Before offering my conclusions about the Dance as a conflict, there is one last event I wish to address: The Hour of the Wolf. As usual, check out the Master Post for the rest of this series.

As with most events in the Dance, our timeline for the death of Aegon II and the end of the war is vague at best. We know that the 'Muddy Mess' was fought two days march from King's Landing, while Aegon II is assassinated not long after his council receives news of the defeat. The Lads most likely arrived in King's Landing 2-3 days after their victory, while Alyn Velaryon and Leowyn Corbray saw to the surrender of the Crownlands, including a 3 day siege of Dragonstone. Almost a fortnight passes between the Lads arrival in King's Landing and that of Cregan's host; the Hour of the Wolf itself lasts for more than a week, but otherwise this is all the information that we are given. The war officially ends with the marriage of Aegon III and Jaehaera some time after the Hour of the Wolf, on the 7th Day of the 7th Moon (ie July 7th) 131 AC. Since the High Septon traveled from Oldtown to officiate the wedding, we can assume based on a distance map of Westeros that the journey probably took 40 days/almost a month-and-a-half, making the end of May the latest time in which the Hour of the Wolf took place.

George gives little reason for the North's steadfast support of Rhaenyra during the Dance, while simultaneously doing all he can to delay their intervention. I've touched on this in Parts 1 and 9 but it bares repeating that without Sara Snow's involvement, the North's allegiance to Rhaenyra is founded on a betrothal between Cregan's son and a non-existent daughter of an unmarried prince and a vague friendship between Cregan and Jace. It's also worth noting that Jace's first visit in the North was not to Winterfell but to White Harbour; despite Cregan having only been in full control of the North for three years after jailing his Uncle Bennard and his sons, Jace apparently thought nothing of bypassing Stark's authority over his bannermen to conclude a marriage alliance with one of the most powerful houses in the North. Choosing neutrality or to support Aegon would have put Cregan at odds with one of his most powerful bannermen, but Jace's de facto strong-arming of Winterfell isn't even acknowledged by the narrative.

Cregan leads an army of 12000 Northerners troops south when Aegon II returns to power, but how this host was raised and made it to King's Landing presents further problems with George's narrative. Gyldan claims that the snows were already "deep beyond the Neck" when Cregan's host arrived, and yet they appear to have marched from the North all the way to King's Landing. Like the Winter Wolves before them, Cregan's host consisted of men who left their homes to spare their families additional mouths to feed in winter, "old men, younger sons, the unwed, the childless, the homeless, and the hopeless." Marching an army 12000 strong to King's Landing in the midst of a harsh winter would require considerable resources, such as great quantities of food to keep the men and animals well fed in the harsh conditions; large quantities of firewood and tentage to keep them warm and safe from the elements, since quartering the entire force in a single settlement would put enormous pressure on local civilians; and additional horses, oxen and mules for moving these men and supplies, to replace those lost to exhaustion, exposure, illness, and potential theft and predation from animals and humans during the harsh winter.

Combined with the risk of losing men to illness, the elements and desertion, Cregan's host would have marched for one-and-a-half to two months depending on departure from Winterfell or from Barrowton and White Harbour, without accounting for the weather. This begs the question as to why Cregan did not send at least part of his army south via ship; granted the lack of any major ports on the North's western coast would have been an issue, but assuming the Mormonts of Bear Island and the fishing villages dotted along the coast could provide some ships, along with the possibility of impressing merchant ships and even buying the freedom of crews seized by Dalton Greyjoy in return for their assistance, it should have been possible for at least a portion of the army to have been moved by sea or along the coast to Seagard. From there the forks of the Trident would have allowed these troops to join the Lads and face Borros Baratheon with a much greater force.

How Cregan raised and disbanded his host generates further questions about George's worldbuilding, with implications well beyond the Dance. The decision to send the Winter Wolves was based on the need for manpower to complete the fall harvest, and the desire by Roderick Dustin and his men to spare their families additional mouths to feed in the coming winter. This appears harmless enough since the Winterwolves numbered just 2000, but serious problems arise when George extends this reasoning to Cregan's much larger host. Cregan claims that his men "died the day we marched," with Gyldan adding that "victory was secondary for these men...they marched for glory, adventure, plunder, and most of all, a worthy end." Of these men who were largely "unwanted and unneeded in the North," 1000 went with Benjicot and Alysanne Blackwood to the Riverlands after the royal wedding, while the rest swore fealty to southern lords, turned to banditry, or became sellswords in Essos.

The problems with George's choices become clear when we consider the North's population, the size of which has been estimated both by Atlas of Ice and Fire and one of George's own editors, Elio Garcia. The method they both favour takes the best estimates of each kingdom's military forces and multiplies by a hundred, assuming these forces represent 1% of the population. They arrive at a strength of 35-40000 for the North with at most a population of 4 million, though I believe 30000 and 3 million to be more accurate. F&B places Torrhen Stark's army at 30000 strong when he confronted Aegon the Conqueror; since this was near the end of the Conquest, and with no weather issues to speak of in the North, it can be assumed that Torrhen brought the largest army he could muster. Our numbers from the War of the Five Kings further support this (per the Wiki of Ice and Fire), with Robb Stark leading 20000 Northerners to the Riverlands; Rodrick Cassel and Ramsay Bolton leading 2000 and 600 men respectively at the Sack of Winterfell; and Stannis' 5000 strong northern army containing only 1500 southrons; a total of 26100, just shy of 30000.

Assuming that the Northern military is 30000 strong, this means that between the 12000 that left with Cregan and did not return, the 2000 Winter Wolves that were killed, and an unknown number of Manderly killed during the Riots in King's Landing, the North lost 50% of it's army during the Dance. This puts the Dance on par with Robb's defeat in the War of the Five Kings, which saw only 4000 of his original 20000 men return home, made all the worse by the fact that Wildlings raided south of the wall in 133 and 134 AC, requiring Cregan Stark's intervention to defeat. While it might be argued that many in Cregan's host would not have served in the Northern army in time of war, such as the 'hopeless' and 'homeless,' this simply makes it all the more ridiculous that Cregan brought untrained, inexperienced men with him on what was intended to be a campaign against Storm's End, Oldtown and Casterly Rock. Fighting the Wildlings is not comparable to warfare against conventional Westerosi armies, so unless Cregan's levies were drawn from the North's regular pool of military manpower, many of his troops would have had limited training and no combat experience whatsoever. As Cregan's host traveled from the North to King's Landing on foot, it's also doubtful that they suffered no losses to illness, the elements, desertion and hostile encounters, meaning the North's manpower deficit from the war may well be higher than 14-15000. The implications of such population loss warrant an essay all their own, but suffice it to say that losing 0.5% of one's population and the equivalent of 50% or more of one's military manpower in less than 2 years is a high price to pay.

This leaves us with the Hour of the Wolf itself, which saw Cregan Stark seize control of King's Landing in an attempt to continue the war, before the Valemen and the Three Widows (Johanna Lannister, Elenda Baratheon and Samantha Hightower [né Tarly]) forced him to back down. Ravens were sent out soon after Aegon II was killed and Aegon III was declared the new king, offering terms to the remaining Green loyalists. The better part of a fortnight (ie almost two weeks) passed before Cregan arrived, but it's only much later that the "Three Widows" send ravens accepting these terms. The uncertainty as to whether the war will continue allows Cregan to seize power, but the situation itself strains credulity. Per our calculations in Part 3, a raven could travel 100 miles in a day with human assistance, while the distance from King's Landing to Storm's End is just over 375 miles; flying there and back would have been 6-8 days, well within the better part of a fortnight. Elenda Baratheon was newly widowed and her husband's army was defeated; with the potential for the Dornish to take advantage of the chaos, she would have needed little time to send her reply to the capital. Her raven should have arrived just after if not before Cregan's host, and would have immediately undermined his plans and strengthened Corlys and Larys' positions, as Storm's End was Cregan's first target in his campaign against the remaining Greens.

The way in which Cregan interacts with the small council is likewise contrived, and seems designed by George to enable Cregan's actions rather than to facilitate interactions that are consistent with how these characters were previously written. Given that Corlys and Larys were openly involved in Aegon II's death, one would expect them to be cautious in how they dealt with Cregan Stark and his 12000 Northerners; on the contrary, the Northern host is allowed to enter the city before the council even meets with Cregan, giving Cregan a numbers advantage over the Lads, the Gold Cloaks, Larys' 'gutter knights' and the few Velaryon troops with Corlys. Had they simply invited Cregan to treat with them alongside a smaller retinue, it would have been impossible for Stark to turn the tables and have the small council arrested. One could argue that it was meant as a sign of good faith, but this makes no sense given Corlys' status as a turncloak twice over and an elder statesman besides, and Larys' status as Master of Whispers alongside his reputation as a cunning and duplicitous schemer. Even more egregious is how open they are about their involvement in Aegon II's death, labelling themselves as regicides to a man who openly despises and distrusts them, although Larys' tries to deny his role during his trial.

Cregan successfully brow beats the Lads into accepting his authority and supporting his planned campaign against Storm's End. Gyldan attributes this to Kermit and Oscar Tully and Benjicot Blackwood being youths, "yet Stark was a man..." a nonsensical proposition when he states shortly before that Cregan was 23 and thus only a few years older. Kermit and Oscar led the Riverlords forces to victory at the 'Muddy Mess,' despite losing their father on the march which could have been disastrous given the fractious nature of Riverlands politics. Benjicot was a veteran of the Lakeshore, the Butcher's Ball, Second Tumbleton and the 'Muddy Mess,' as well as numerous skirmishes in the Riverlands. While Gyldan claims that 'Bloody Ben' had a "shy, self-effacing manner," the only evidence indicating this prior to George telling us outright is his weeping at the terrible carnage of the Butcher's Ball. Much like with Daeron at Tumbleton, George suddenly dumps characterization upon us in order to justify taking the plot in a preferred direction, in this case one where three previously tenacious fighters are cowed into compliance by a man they've never met and who spent the entire Dance far away from the fighting.

Cregan's interactions with the small council itself are outright nonsensical, as he justifies his plan to raze Storm's End, Oldtown and Casterly Rock by claiming that the council is making the same error as Rhaenyra and Aegon II by presuming the war to be over. Prior to the Riots driving her from the city, Rhaenyra sent Daemon and Nettles to subdue and the Two Betrayers to Tumbleton to fight Daeron, while Borros Baratheon was still to the south. Aegon II had Borros Baratheon enforce his rule over the Crownlands, and when Cregan and the Lads took up arms against him he sent the Stormlords to fight them while sending envoys to the Free Cities to hire sellswords. Neither monarch believed the war was over, in fact Cregan even uses the threat of Aegon's sellswords attacking the city to further excuse his plan to continue the war, but no one on the council points out the complete lack of support for his claims. The Westerlands' army was destroyed at the Lakeshore and Johanna Lannister is occupied with Dalton Greyjoy, while the Stormlands and Reacher armies are defeated and in disarray; yet Corlys and Maester Orwyle only appeal to the potential casualties and the fact that the lords of those three kingdoms are dead.

The writing deteriorates further when Cregan asks the Lads, "Has Casterly Rock returned the Crown's gold,"; his suggestion that Casterly Rock held all the gold was incorrect, but it begs the question as to how he came by this information. Since only the Green Council was aware of the locations of the other 3/4s of the royal treasury (Casterly Rock, Oldtown and the Iron Bank of Braavos), there's only two explanations and neither of them are good. The first is that George 'kinda forgot' about the treasury; the second is that on top of allowing Cregan Stark to occupy the city with his army and presenting themselves as regicides, Corlys and Larys also told him the whereabouts of the treasury. If it wasn't clear already, Cregan's actions in the Hour of the Wolf depend mightily on every member of the small council, Corlys and Larys in particular, being utterly stupid and completely passive. The Hour of the Wolf becomes less onerous when Lady Jeyne Arryn and the Vale army arrives to counter balance Cregan, and the Three Widows agree to Corlys' terms soon after. Nonetheless, the fact that a self-righteous warmonger like Cregan Stark was allowed to get as far he was by the narrative is yet another blemish on a very mediocre story.

This concludes my analysis of the Dance of the Dragons as told in Fire and Blood. In the interest of this series being more than just a catalogue of plot holes and inconsistencies, I intend to write a conclusion collecting my thoughts on the conflict as a whole. In the meantime, thank you to all those who've been following from the start, and to my mutuals for your support and feedback; Cheers!

ADDENDUM

Casterly Rock is the first to respond to Corlys and Larys' terms, despite Storm's End being nearer to King's Landing. Johanna Lannister agrees to give obeisance to Aegon III and provide hostages, and to return the Rock's portion of the royal treasury, provided that the crown pardons Tyland Lannister and commands Dalton Greyjoy to cease his raids and occupation of Kayce and Fair Isle. Both F&B and TWOIAF acknowledge that Dalton joined the war on Rhaenyra's side as an excuse to raid the Westerlands rather than out of respect for her claim, so it is doubtful that he would have accepted such a command in the absence of any dragons to threaten him with. It is significant then that neither Corlys and Larys nor Cregan Stark considered going to war with the Red Kraken as a means of uniting the Greens and Blacks behind Aegon III. Since Cregan was spoiling for a fight, it would have made sense to offer his army's support against the Ironborn in return for accepting Aegon III as king and returning the rest of the treasury. The armies of Cregan, the Vale, the Lads, the Velaryons and whatever troops the Hightowers and Redwynes could contribute would be more than a match for the Ironborn, while the Hightower, Redwyne and Velaryon fleets alongside the Braavosi sellsails hired by the Vale would outmatch Greyjoy's fleet. Cregan could also have made the Crown's amnesty and support against Greyjoy dependent on supplying food to the North during the coming winter. Instead, Dalton Greyjoy remains at large until his murder in 133 AC, while the war between the Westerlands and Iron Isles only concludes the following year.

[patrocles]

if aemond survived the war, how do you think his relationship with alys would progress? would he marry her or just bring her with him to KL to be his mistress?

this is a great question!! i will keep it 100%, i am extremely biased so i'm writing all this with only their happiness in mind lol

first though i think if he survived, they would absolutely be stronger than ever, and extremely committed to each other. i'm talking astronomical levels of Power Couple and enough ego to introduce electricity to Westeros. also like she's pregnant with his child. regardless of any outcoes of the war in general, he's not having a bastard nor is he giving any of them up. you just survived a war together! that's a bond that never dies easy

HOWEVER. there are also things to consider with the outcome of the war that i think are interesting when you think of like the mechanics of their relationship working after the war

does he survive and the greens win? does he survive and the greens lose?

does he survive and vhagar dies? does he and vhagar both survive?

all of it matters for like a bunch of reasons, let me kinda parse thru them as best i can

SCENARIO 1: aemond survives, the greens win

he's definitely marrying alys one way or the other, regardless of who it pisses off. if aegon survives and still reigns, he could take over the betrothal that aemond broke. that would probably be better for borros anyways considering they were already planning one for aegon anyways at the time of his death. if aegon still dies, well aemond becomes king and, well sucks to suck borros. there's no way for borros to win with all the cards in aemond's favor, alys becomes queen and their kid legitimized. maybe he works out a peace agreement with cregan, betroths rickon and jaehaera later down the line to fufill the pact with jace or something. even if vhagar did die, borros could threaten revolt out of pissy feelings, but it would die immediately.

the AU of my dreams is alys and aemond moving to oldtown to raise their kids (if aegon and daeron lives and aemond leaves daeron to help watch over things or something). just love the idea of him introducing alys to the witchy lore of his family. @saintaemond and i have an EXTENSIVE au regarding this

SCENARIO 2: aemond lives, the greens lose

lets say the greens still lose and vhagar dies, aemond has considerably less power. he's still aegon's male heir, which makes him valuable. he could assume the throne for like 3 days and he'll probably still marry alys anyways cus yolo and nothing matters by the time the blacks retake KL and cregan seizes control. if aemond hasn't already escaped with alys to live in exile before that happens, he's absolutely getting executed for a laundry list of war crimes so it won't even matter. and even if somehow vhagar survived, it would probably just be easier to take the L and flee to the free cities.

but i guess either of these scenarios really depend on how you think aemond would treat alys-- book!aemond maaaaaaaybe i can see just keeping her as a mistress if he didn't have a choice in the matter, but like everyone knows she's the number one. with show!aemond we don't know the nature of his relationship with alys, BUT what we do know doesnt suggest to me that he's the mistress-keeping type. and if it came to it he would probably choose alys and treat her the honorable way (even if breaking his betrothal with the baratheons was also dishonorable?) but like he's a daddy now. also he just likes her so much

and like maybe i'm just extremely idealistic!! who knows!!

[jimhair]

Mistakes can be made. I’m often asked instead of digital why I use an antique camera, where do I get film, how is it processed, why black and white? My main thought is digital looks too much like the world we see and I love to be shown people and the world differently. I never really liked surprises but knowing the process of using film has its own quirks that are not completely in my control, makes it enjoyable. I’m also not really a fan of double exposures as I do want to see an image of something close to what I saw when I pushed the button, but in this case the mistake image makes more sense to me knowing the circumstances. I saw a man sitting near the entrance to Voodoo Doughnuts on Saturday and walked by, not wanting to disturb him, but turning back after I had passed I saw a private patrol officer talking to him. There is an election coming up, the tourists are returning, and security guards and organizations have been hired to move people out of the city, and clear tents from sidewalks. I walked back to see if this man was OK, and he said it was no problem, just a conversation in passing, and then I asked if he minded if I make a photograph? As I adjusted the camera for focus and exposure he kept talking, and I must have been distracted and forgot to advance to a new frame. I do like my error, and have posted the normal portrait too so you can decide which image you like best. Veteran at Voodoo Doughnuts, Portland, Saturday, June 11, 2022 🇺🇦💔🌎💔🌏💔🌍💔🇺🇦 #earth #america #human #family #photographer #oldtown #street #veteran #stranger #portrait #photography #mediumformat #4x5 #camera #bnw @ilfordphoto #film #blancoynegro #blancetnoir #Hēiyǔbái #siyahbeyaz #白黒 #shirokuro #blackandwhite #istillshootfilm #photojournalism #pdx #portland #nw #northwest #oregon 220623 FP4 1925 Graflex RB 1902 Bausch and Lomb 5x7 Lens 1/30 f8 https://www.instagram.com/p/CewBBYvF_cA/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[nicketynic]

between the shadow and the soul (1/1)

Hey fam!! Guess whose laptop is back from four weeks of computer quarantine (a.k.a. two weeks of fix-up and a godawful amount of time in the mail)!! 

This was originally intended for @jonsa-valentine. Originally a ~2,000 word take on a Robb Lives, Jon/Sansa falls in love despite her arranged Southron marriage, this grew and grew as I scribbled endlessly in my notebook. 

Enjoy!!

“Jon, you shouldn’t be here,” Sansa hissed fiercely as her leisurely stroll through a Redwyne vineyard was interrupted by her lover appearing suddenly from behind a vine-covered trellis. Outraged worry quickly replaced startlement as she took in his appearance: tousled, hurried, still clad in riding leathers. The reckless abandon of it all left her furious. “Have you even presented yourself at Redwyne Hall?”

“No,” Jon baldly confessed, shamelessly sidestepping her outrage as he shed his cloak and pulled her close. “I came straight from the harbor.”

Despite herself, Sansa went unresisting into his embrace, twining her arms around his neck and guiding him deeper into the thicket of grapevines. “Luck must be with you, then. Willas and his uncle are spending the day in Ryamsport, otherwise your absence would be noticed immediately.”

“Or a few well-placed silver stags will delay my arrival being announced until near the evening meal,” he countered, leaning in to nuzzle into her neck. 

The rough rasp of his beard and the weathered skin underneath, the calluses on his hands as he entwined them with hers a shock of sensory delight to her system. Pressing her cheek to his and breathing him in, she realized with appreciation that he must have stopped to bathe in Oldtown, lacking as he was the stench of horse and days-old sweat. Beneath an overlay of leather and seasalt instead lingered the fresh, clean scents of pine and snow. Home, her blood and heart and soul all whispered in unison, as she pressed closer and blinked away the prick of tears. 

Gods, she had missed him...missed Winterfell, missed the North. Sansa had gotten everything she was dreamed of, a chivalrous husband and a life full of Southron fancy, but she wanted none of it. She longed instead for evergreen and snow and solemn, long Stark faces. She wished for Jon, the embodiment of everything her heart longed for, everything she knew of comfort and love. 

As kind and chivalrous as Willas Tyrell had proven to be, as well as he continued to treat her, there was nothing she could do to change the truth of her feelings. She and Willas could have been Florian and Jonquil reborn, and still it would have come to no good end. Sansa Stark’s heart belonged to another, given away long before the Highgarden heir had ever cloaked her in green velvet and golden roses. She felt near-forgotten parts of her sparking alive everywhere Jon’s touch lingered, previously gone dormant under long months of Willas’ absent courtesy. Sansa had no true cause to complain as her husband’s attention was cast more upon his hawks, his horses, and his correspondence with a certain Dornish prince, but it was easy for loneliness to take root in the cracks of their relationship, lacking as she was any real bond connecting her to Highgarden. 

Three years without an heir sent plenty a Reacher tongue wagging, but both spouses duly ignored the ensuing gossip. His gaze turned firmly to the south, hers to the north, but they shared a common longing for the approaching summer. Summer brought the tourney season, inspiring the Red Viper and his paramour to journey beyond the Red Mountains. Summer stirred Winterfell’s king to send a trusted proxy to the Reach, protecting the vital grain trade cemented by Sansa’s marriage contract. 

Having expected to see Jon in Oldtown in the role of that proxy, a week out yet as Willas wished to visit with his Redwyne relatives before they were due to attend the celebrations for Old Lord Leyton’s seventieth nameday, it should hardly be a surprise that Sansa should be startled and confused with her former lover’s sudden appearance. 

Either ignorant or ignorable of her inner turmoil, Jon sighed her name, pressing soft, sweet kisses to her collarbone, her neck, her jaw, and her cheek as he raised his head to face her. “Sansa…”

“You’re mad,” she began, stopping when he winced and quickly corrected herself to avoid referencing the Targaryen heritage he found so abhorrent. “You’re foolish to have taken such a risk,” she finished chidingly, though her hands proved traitorous as they played with the hair at his nape and stroked his neck, soothingly away the reprimand. “You truly couldn’t wait for Oldtown?”

The touch grounded him, tempted as he was to take the rebuke as rejection and back away. Instead, he breathed out slowly, meeting her eyes with determination rather than chagrin. “I’m a fool, aye, mayhaps even more a fool than the Ser Florian of your songs. But I beg of you,” He tipped his forehead against hers, holding her gaze imploringly. “Here, in this moment, don’t send me away. I’ve missed you so desperately. I feel as if I’ve been cleaved in half everytime we part ways.”

“Jon…” Lifting onto the tips of her toes brought her lips to his and she let the kiss linger, slow and sweet as the first tentative touch they had shared years ago, the eve before she was due to depart for White Harbor to wed Willas in the Sept of the Snows. A clandestine meeting in the godswood to share a private goodbye had spiralled out of their control, as they surrendered to every forbidden longing overshadowed by her kingly brother’s negotiations with the Reach to get their people through a long winter, Sansa’s hand the bargaining chip key to secure the necessary grain trade. 

For her people, Sansa chose to do her duty, but first sought one last thing for herself. That night, she lay with Jon in the shadow of Winterfell's heart tree, rising again in the hour before dawn hiding away the gentle, fanciful maiden part of her to become the stern, dutiful woman set to marry Highgarden's heir. 

Pulling back at the need for breath, Sansa’s eyes were warm and full as she gazed up at her love. “Jon," she breathed. “Stay with me.”

He kissed her again, fumbling with his clothes as his hands were trembling, joy and desperation coursing through him like a maelstrom. “I’m here,” he whispered shakily against her skin as he kissed her throat, her breast as he loosened her corset and let her dress fall. “I’m here.”

Surrounded by the subtle sweetness of blooming grape clusters (so different from the cloying rose aromas permeating Highgarden, much to Sansa’s relief), they lay together upon the traveling cloak Jon had so carelessly shed. Rich, damp earth was soft beneath his elbows and knees, the sun warm against his backside as he kicked his breeches aside and leaned over her lithe form. His lips were soft as a butterfly’s kiss as he traced the constellations of freckles on her skin, clever fingers finding every secret spot guaranteed to elicit a sigh or moan. Her body sang with pleasure by the time she pulled him close and wrapped her legs around his hips, welcoming him into her body. 

And as he moved above her, she kept her eyes on his face, tracing over his beloved features, his flushed complexion, the wrinkle in his brow as he concentrated on finding the right rhythm to please them both. Committing him to memory, she slowly let down the guard keeping the dreamy maiden at bay, and it was hope and love enveloping her, practicality hidden away, when he began to show signs of his impending peak. Cinching her legs and arms tight around him, she held him fast when he attempted to withdraw, something they would have never dared that night in the godswood. But Sansa knew his visit couldn’t last forever, and she would be so very, very lonely again when he was gone. “Stay with me,” she urged once more against his lips, swallowing his startled yelp in a kiss as he tensed and stilled, finding his release inside her. 

And just like the flourishing vineyard around them, seed took root and slowly began to blossom. 

xx

As magic slowly faded from the world after the calamity of the Second War for the Dawn, the seasons falling into a pattern necessitated new alliances between all the kingdoms involved. Two years of winter would follow every three of summer, so on and so forth until cooperative trade was the key to survival. 

From then on, when the snows melted and spring finally arrived in full bloom, the future Lord and Lady Tyrell began an extended tour around the Reach and surrounding regions, visiting family and popular tourney spots, building relationships and connections. If they crossed paths with Willas’ dear friend Prince Oberyn more often than not, and Sansa was able to enjoy her cousin Jon’s company during his journey to and from Highgarden as King Robb’s envoy, the coincidence was all the happier for all involved. 

Surrounded by the sultry heat of a Southron summer, it was easy for most to forget that Sansa Tyrell was Sansa Stark, Daughter of Winterfell. But the reminder would always arrive when autumn's chill crept in and Lady Sansa's middle began to swell. Babes conceived in summer they may have been, but it was the winter of their birth that left its mark. Edwyn and his storm-grey eyes, little Alya with her Stark coloring; even sweet Minisa and spirited Brynden, fully Tully in looks, were Northern steel through and through when pushed passed their courtesies. 

The years rolled by, marked by passages of joy and pain, contentment and heartache. Seasons changed, politics shifted, children grew, and Sansa and Jon became Lady Tyrell and Lord Snow respectively. 

Just shy of her forty-fifth nameday, Sansa Tyrell leisurely strolled through the Beesbury family gardens, arm-in-arm with her beloved cousin, Lord Snow. Strong on the languid breeze was the thick scent of honeysuckle and the lazy swell of the Honeywine river, as Sansa cast reminiscent glances toward her companion through the fall of her lashes. 

The arm beneath her fingers was firm and muscular as ever, but Jon had grown adorably sheepish about the softening of his middle over the years, the silver shot through his hair and beard, the craggy lines left by hard winters. Sansa herself was well aware of the marks age and children had left, but it was easy to dismiss those insecurities when her mind was full with memories of the night before. 

The humid heat of the summer night had bogged down on them, clinging simply to their skin even as they clung closer to one another. Kisses tasted of warmth and sunlight, lingering gifts from the setting sun they'd made love beneath. Under the pallid luminescence of the night, her lover was a pale, solemn thing, meant for winter moons and cold starlight, but it was summer that gave them their union, and summer that touched the taste of their kisses, southron heat he gladly faced just to touch her once more. Cast with the warm glow of a full-faced summer moon, there was no mistaking the naked adoration and hunger those wintry eyes regarded her with, the same amorous gaze he’d given her at sixteen and twenty and thirty. 

Once more in daylight, they practiced considerably more restraint, but it was with a mellow contentment that they walked together. Sansa was reluctant to break the peaceful silence between them, but they only had so much remaining privacy before duty forced them to part company once more. Houses Tyrell and Florent were now kin through Edwyn's marriage to the lovely and clever Mara, and so when Lord Beesbury wished to host a small tourney to celebrate his daughter’s betrothal to Mara’s brother Rycherd, all related houses happily donated further funds to make it a grander event for all to attend. Honeyholt was consequently buzzing with activity akin to the hives it was named for, and Sansa and Jon finding a private moment had been a miracle unto itself. 

"Have you spoken yet to Brynden?" she inquired softly, watching him thoughtfully as they turned a corner between two appleblossom trees. He winced slightly, and she gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze, remembering how nervous he'd been when they discussed the matter the night before.

Jon heaved a heavy sigh, giving her a sheepish glance. "I have. I addressed the...situation this morning." A small, fond smile curled his lips, almost despite himself given his anxiety. "We were both eager to escape the formalities. It would have been remiss not to bring him along for my morning ride."

Sansa's returning smile was equally as fond and warm. "He favors you more and more every day," are the words she longed to say, but would never dare to do so in such a public setting. Instead, when she spoke aloud, it was to comment, "Bryn would live on horseback if I only allowed him. Wolf blood, I believe Father once called it." My blood. Your blood. Stark blood. He is every bit your son, Jon. 

"But wolf blood or not," she continued gently, "He holds to the Tully words as well as his namesake. How did he respond to your offer?"

Jon sighed, softly and wistfully, resting a hand over the one tucked against his forearm. "He wasn't displeased, at least. I'm not certain the surprise ever wore off by the time we returned to the stable."  He smiled wanly. "He asked for time to think. I suppose a crumbling old castle and a bastard’s name cannot compare to what Highgarden can offer."

"Jon," she sighed, the soft, tender tone to his name as close as she could come to the "my love" she wished to truly express. "You cannot truly believe any of that. A second son of a Reacher house can hardly hope for more than the tourney circuit. No boy with so much North in his heart could ever be happy as a pampered Southron knight." 

A ghost of a smile appeared on Jon's face, and she pressed on. "I've hardly known Robb to be as much a braggart as he was in his letters about the restoration of Wolf's Den. He was so proud to present it to you. To honor you, Jon, in thanks for everything you've given."

"An honor I was hardly worthy of," he murmured darkly, an echo of the guilt and shame he wouldn't be Jon without. As much as he loved her, every time he lay with a married woman, the cousin he was pledged to protect and respect, he felt he violated Robb and her late father's trust in him, rendering his honor a tainted, broken thing he could no longer be proud of. 

“Jon.” Bringing them to a firm stop next to a large flowering bush, grasping his forearms so that he would face her, she held his eyes intently. "You're one of the most honorable men I've ever known. Beyond that, you're kind, loyal, and dutiful to your core. How is that not a legacy Brynden would be proud to inherit?"

xx

At that very moment, however, all thoughts of legacy, inheritance, and choice were driven out of Brynden Tyrell's head when he was knocked hard into the dirt, courtesy of his older brother, whose smirking face appeared into his field of vision along with an extended hand. 

Heaving a sigh, he accepted Edwyn's hand, pulled firmly to his feet with a pat to his shoulder. A broad grin cut through Edwyn’s thick auburn beard, a low chuckle accompanying his teasing. "Didn't I tell you enough when we were boys to keep your shield up? Get distracted again, and I'll-"

"Ring my head like a bell," Brynden finished irritably, all too familiar with the phrase after a childhood of training with his brother. Eight years his senior and gifted with the stocky Tully frame, Edwyn had more often than not pummelled the lesson into him, but given Brynden’s undeniable skill with the blade now that he was nearly grown, he couldn’t deny the effectiveness of his brother’s teaching. 

A round of musical laughter and mocking applause from the sidelines drew a glare and a reprimanding side-eye from the brothers. Alya remained unrepentant, smirking and giggling. Perched on a fence post, one knee drawn up to her chin and her free leg swinging back and forth, she appeared more of a restless child than a young woman on the brink of sixteen.  

“Enough, Aly,” Edwyn firmly rebuked, the disapproval in his low tenor difficult to ignore by the younger siblings who so looked up to him. 

Deciding that mocking her twin wasn't worth drawing Edwyn's wrath, she snapped her mouth shut against the slew of creative insults she had planned. Instead, she cocked her head curiously toward Brynden. “What has you so distracted, little brother? Even Sanny would have seen that blow coming.”

Brynden didn’t bother to hold back from glowering at his sister for that particular insult, as Sanny was the family nickname for Sansara, Edwyn and Mara’s three-year-old daughter. “If you must know, Uncle Jon asked me to go riding this morning…”

After finishing his narrative of everything that had happened that morning, Brynden was left faced with his brother’s expression, so thoroughly dumbfounded the younger wasn’t certain how to decipher the mood. Before he could begin to question, a sharp clout landed hard against the back of his head. 

"Seven hells!" he yelped, protectively clutching the throbbing base of his skull as his ears rang and his head spun. He glared at his sister as darkly as capable through the pained pinch of his eyes.

"You're a complete and utter idiot," Alya hissed into his face, apathetic to the damage she'd caused in the face of her fury. “Uncle Jon offered to take you North, give you his name, and make you his heir! You have to think about it?!”

“Taking on a bastard’s name doesn’t require the slightest bit of thought?” Brynden scornfully shot back, immediately shamefaced and regretful before the words had even left his mouth. Alya’s stormy eyes lit with fury, looking ready to strike him all over again, Edwyn the very face of paternal disappointment. 

Opening his mouth to apologize, he was cut off by Alya storming up to him and grabbing a fistful of his hair, jerking his head around and forcing him down until her mouth was level with his ear. "Don't presume to forget the truth of your own origins, Brynden Flowers." The low hiss of her voice was barely audible save for the sheer vehemence of her tone. "Be glad it was love that birthed you, and not the wrong side of some spoiled lordling's bedsheet." 

Warring between shock and offense, Brynden could only stare at his sister, disbelieving that she would ever again dare to give voice to such a poisonous idea. He was so certain they left that ugliness behind years ago, fracturing their relationship in sacrifice to keep their world from crashing down around them. 

They were twelve the night Alya appeared in his bedchamber, exuberant with the breathless excitement of a newly-discovered secret, words rambling together with a speed he struggled to keep up with. But still, that understanding did begin to bloom, as did the chill of fear climbing up his spine. Anxious panic clawed at his insides, nausea settling in as he looked up and recognized the glitter of excitement in his twin’s eyes. 

She was so certain now that she had the answers, to all the questions she hadn’t been able to let go of the older they grew. Why none of them showed a trace of Tyrell save their name, why Father was never unkind but always distant, why Uncle Jon wrote so frequently and remained so affectionate and warm no matter how grown they became, despite only being a second cousin. 

What was there to be excited about, if such a ghastly secret was true? There were as many pricked and ready ears hidden around Highgarden as there were roses, and there were plenty of those sickly pungent blossoms to be found around the castle and surrounding estate. The stain of bastardry aside, forgetting the loss of their inheritance and names, Brynden would fight tooth and nail to never see their mother pay the price for such a revelation. 

How easily had Alya forgotten their lessons, to not realize the consequences of the Faith being so central to the Reach? Was it truly so difficult to remember Cersei Lannister’s disgrace, or Bethany Bracken’s death sentence? Even as the best-case scenario, if discovering he was a childless cuckold didn’t transform the mild-mannered Willas Tyrell into someone unrecognizable, the most they could expect was for Mother to be dismissed back to the North as a adulteress, taking her children with her bearing the name “Snow.” The shame and the ridicule would follow her, blacken her name and reputation, for the rest of her days. Would their kingly uncle welcome her home, or would he be ashamed and turn them away? 

Was it worth ruining all their lives just because Alya needed there to be a reason behind Uncle Jon’s love?

Those fears swirling around his mind, culminating in a maddening mantra for Alya to just shut up and think about what she was doing, Brynden had reached out to roughly grab her arms, give her a harsh, violent shake, and order in a low, guttural growl he couldn’t recognize that she would never, ever say these things again. 

He came back to himself a moment later to find a stricken, betrayed look deep in his twin’s winter eyes. Nausea and horror welled up inside him, as hardened steel replaced the pain and she spat at him, jerking herself away to disappear into the night. 

It was the last time she looked at him with anything lighter than mockery. And mockery it seemed to be now, making a mockery of the sacrifice he made to keep them safe. His nostrils flared, his fists clenched, his mouth opening to respond-

Thud!

Edwyn’s practice sword hit the ground hard as his patience finally snapped, striding forward until his siblings were within arm’s length. Strong hands grabbed the teenagers by the scruffs of their necks, with just enough firmness that wriggling free would be uncomfortable, and whirled them around to face him, stern mien only emphasized by the dark intensity filling his eyes. “Enough! The two of you will stop this incessant squabbling and remember that you are family and pack, or so help me, I will chain you together for the rest of your natural lives.” 

His face softened and he sighed. “You’re not getting anywhere continuing to hide from each other. Speak, and listen. Alya, tell him why it’s important to you that he go north.”

A brief mulish stubbornness appeared in her expression, but Alya’s eyes darted from Edwyn to her twin, vulnerability becoming more apparent the more she made contact with Brynden. “I-my betrothal has been arranged. I’m to marry Wyllam Manderly.”

Wyllam Manderly- heir to White Harbor. Which meant his twin, his other half, was being sent North, separating them for the first time in his life. Unless he accepted Uncle Jon’s offer and went north as well…

Oh. Oh. He swallowed hard against a lump in his throat. “Does that mean you don’t hate me anymore?”

Alya’s eyes went as wide as saucers, but before anything more could be discussed, they were all interrupted by the arrival of Edwyn’s squire. 

“My lords, my lady, I’ve been sent to fetch you. Lady Minisa had gone to the birthing bed.”

xx

If there was anything that gave Alya the slightest hope in regards to her future marriage, it was the genuine affection between her older sister and her husband, Ser Samwyle Tarly. Called Little Sam to differentiate him from his father, Samwell, the heir to Horn Hill had been hopelessly besotted with Minisa from the time they were children. It was likely that adoration that led to him indulging Mini’s wish to travel so late in her pregnancy, though thankfully the couple hadn’t traveled far, having been staying in Oldtown to celebrate his sister Maeve’s first child with Lord Hightower. 

Samwyle was a big man, tall and broad, his presence readily felt by all those with him in the corridor as he paced back and forth, Redwyne freckles standing stark against his pale, anxious face. Alya watched as Edwyn approached the nervous father-to-be, resting a hand on his shoulder and leaning closer to hopefully reassure and advise. Without the frenetic pacing to keep her attention, Alya found herself shifting restlessly, nothing left to distract her from her racing mind. 

Thoughts bouncing from the danger of Mini being in labor to vague, nervous speculation of one day being married to Wyllam and carrying his children, she found herself most often coming back to the fact that her twin, her other half, thought she hated him. 

Alya knew she was stubborn, that she was prideful, but even she had been able to admit to herself years ago that she had been hasty when it came to her suspicions about their mother and Uncle Jon. Yes, it had been wrong of him to respond the way he did, trying to force silence on the sister he knew valued the freedom of her mind above all else, but these days, needling Brynden was more habit than true antagonism. Calling him “Flowers” had been a childish thing born of her anger, but still, the only thing that could truly stick in her thoughts…

“Does that mean you don’t hate me anymore?”

She winced at the memory and stared blankly ahead, idly counting grains in the wooden table nearby in an effort to distract herself. A shift in the space, a creak from the bench beneath her, and a warm, solid body appeared at her side. Keeping her gaze affixed forward, she sighed, sliding over until they were shoulder-to-shoulder. “I don’t hate you,” she muttered softly. 

The body beside her went slack with relief, shifting closer still until they were hip-to-hip. “I accepted Uncle Jon’s offer,” he offered hesitantly. 

Relief rushed through her, and she let her hand fall onto the bench beside them, close enough to feel the warmth of his. They’d held hands so often as children, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d welcomed such a touch from him.  “And you’ll visit White Harbor often?”

“So much you’ll think me even more of a pest than you do now,’” Brynden replied honestly. He flexed his fingers, letting his pinkie graze against hers. He lowered his voice, muttering quietly. “I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted us safe.”

Alya sighed heavily, giving into her instincts and wearily letting her head fall to his shoulder. Her twin stiffened for only a moment, relaxing beneath her and gladly welcoming her proximity as he had since the womb. “I know. But we’ll all be well, Bryn. Mama will be accompanying me for a time. And Edwyn will be so proud of you, becoming a lord in your own right.” In his heart of hearts, Alya knew if there was any man that Brynden truly considered a father, it was their older brother. Edwyn had seen them through their childhoods with patience and strength, but he had children of his own now. If nothing else, Uncle Jon at least deserved the chance to guide Bryn through the clumsy first steps of adulthood. 

Brynden nodded softly, contemplatively silent rather than brooding. He gently settled his hand on hers and Alya reciprocated, their fingers entwining. There was much more left unsaid between them, so much to discuss and uncover, but for now, two halves were side-by-side. 

xx Feeling helpless as a spectator and uncertain how much of his heart he could truly show, Jon Snow could only watch the similar anxiety and tension carrying on around him. Along with his goodson, he winced as yet another sharp cry from the birthing room filled the air. 

Afternoon had quickly faded into twilight and later still into the hour of the wolf, and Jon had long since sent the twins to bed and his firstborn to tend his own young family. This left Jon as the only one to let the reassuring weight of a father’s hands rest against Little Sam’s shoulders. 

He wondered briefly if the boy bore any resemblance to his father anytime Desmera or Gilly had gone to the birthing bed with Sam’s impressive brood of eight Tarlys and Flowers. Jon and Sam’s friendship had continued over the years despite the distance, but necessity had seen him only sharing in the most monumental milestones of his friend’s life through letters. He looked at Little Sam, saw the near-resemblance to his dear friend save for a few distinct Redwyne features. 

Pushing away the melancholy, Jon forced his mouth into a reassuring smile. “Steady on, lad. Wasn’t your father or brother able to prepare you for this at all?”

“Aemon tried his best, but Father was too embarrassed.” Jon’s lips twitched into a more genuine grin, both at Sam’s expense and the reminder that “the little monster” had grown into the happy and respected Ser Aemon Flowers. 

Jon nodded sagely. “Fortunately there’s none of that shyness between old friends. It gets easier as time goes on, according to your father. Meanwhile, I’m here with you, and we’ll be strong for our Minisa. Why don’t you tell me what you two have planned once you’re able to take the babe back to Oldtown?”

The next hour passed peacefully with Little Sam’s hopes, dreams of his son or daughter growing up with Maeve’s little Lyonel, Aemon’s Hern and Flora, and Edwyn’s sweet Sansara  Samwyle’s happy voice died out as Minisa’s cries reached a crescendo, attention fixated on the door for a short eternity before the oak hinges creaked open, and Sansa stepped out into the corridor, relief mingling with fatigue in her expression. 

“It’s done. You have a son, Samwyle. Congratulations.”

“A boy.” Little Sam was euphoric and glowing in his joy. “May I go see them?”

“Of course. Minisa’s expecting you.”

The clandestine couple watched as the exuberant young man all but bound for the room, disappearing behind the door. In the sudden silence, Sansa looked back at her lover, something impossibly soft lingering in her eyes. 

“The birth was long and hard. I’m in need of freshening up. Will you escort me back to my guest chamber, Cousin?”

“I’d be delighted, my lady.”

Safely barred behind another closed door, Sansa’s lips stole his breath, soft hands linking around his neck to kiss him deeply, joy and life and love thrumming through every connection they shared. Jon made a soft sound of satisfaction in his throat, arms locking around her as they shared again deep, heated kisses. Nimble fingers slipping beneath the folds of his tunic, she flattened her palm just over his pounding heart, thinking fondly of the deep, unconditional love she knew resided there. 

Their caresses slowed, lips parting at the need for breath, and Sansa reached up to cup his cheek, smoothing her thumb over the ages lines around the curve of his mouth. “He’s beautiful, my love. I can’t wait for you to see him. I’m to bring you back once father and son have had their time, and Mini sends her poor husband to bed.”

Torn between elation and indecision, Jon hesitated. “A male cousin in the birthing room? Sansa, are you certain?”

“Yes. You weren’t able to meet Sansara until she was nearly a year old- you deserve to meet this child. Besides, Minisa insists upon it. She’s eager for you to meet your new namesake.”

As his eyes widened, she chuckled and stole one last kiss, a gentle peck to the gaping slack of his mouth. “Come now. Your daughter and grandson await you.”

As Jon watched his daughter hold her newborn son, her lovely face awash with a new mother’s love and tenderness, he felt a pang for a past he hadn’t been present for. He thought perhaps some of it was restored to him in this moment, for it must have looked similar to when Sansa held their children for the first time after bringing them into the world. 

Propriety checked at the door, there was no earthly force that could keep Jon back from sweeping over to the bed, leaning down to embrace his daughter and pressing a tender kiss to her brow. Minisa hummed with content, arms twining around his shoulders to return his embrace. She bussed a kiss to his bearded cheek, and when she whispered a soft, nonchalant truth sotto voce into his ear, he found himself passed panic or recrimination. Crystal blue eyes met his calmly, steadily, nothing but love and trust to be found in their depths. 

“Come hold your grandson,” she told him simply. No accusation, just a simple, short acknowledgment. 

Then there was hardly time to think on it further as Sansa placed little Jon Tarly in his arms, letting him carefully cradle the babe against him. He looked down at the tiny face with reverence and felt his heart swell with more love than he ever felt possible. Just like all those years ago, when somehow Sansa managed to work her way into his heart, giving so much and asking nothing in return, filling all the empty spaces inside him until she was a part of everything he was. How could he ever feel empty again, carrying memories like this one with him for the rest of his days?

[racefortheironthrone]

Gulltown is to the Vale as White Harbor & Oldtown are to the North & Reach, but while the Manderlys and Hightowers are both specifically cited as the richest vassals of the Starks & Tyrells, the Graftons aren't among the heavy hitters of the Arryn vassals (tho they've been doing it longer than the Manderlys). tbc, sorry

Gulltown 2: the options I can see to explain the Grafton anomaly are: 1. The Graftons have not recovered from penalties or reparations imposed by Jon/Robert for siding with Aerys. 2. Gulltown is more like Lannisport, more under the control of the House Paramount, as evidenced by the associated cadet branch. 3. The Graftons ARE the richest Vale house, but lack the social status because the Vale is snooty & the Graftons are suspiciously commercial. Which do you think is most likely? Other?

I would say that the main difference is that, while White Harbor and Oldtown are ruled by a single House, Gulltown is not. While it is true that the Graftons are lords in Gulltown, so are the Shetts of Gulltown and the Shetts of Gull Tower, and it’s not an accident that the Arryns put a cadet branch of their family in Gulltown as well. 

Another sign of the Graftons’ lack of exclusive power within the city is that the Shetts of Gull Tower are vassals of the Royces of Runestone, their powerful neighbor to the north. The close proximity of Runestone to Gulltown means that Gulltown can’t expand its influence out into the hinterlands in the same way that, for example, White Harbor did with Oldcastle, Widow’s Watch, Ramsgate, et al.

So I would say that the most likely explanation is that the Arryns have historically relied on a strategy of divide-and-rule in order to keep Gulltown under control. 

[nightqueendany]

Original Final Season 7 - Episode 3: The Last of the Dragons

It’s Tuesday. You guys know what that means...

ON DRAGONSTONE

As in show canon 7x03, Jon Snow arrives on Dragonstone, finally meets with Daenerys Targaryen and immediately informs her and her allies about the Army of the Dead. Everyone is in shock, this is not where this meeting was supposed to go, they’re all a bit at a loss for what to do, the meeting is adjourned abruptly

Though it’s been brought up by both their councils (separately, in private), neither Jon nor Dany mention a marriage alliance in public to each other

When Davos questions him about it later, Jon tells him he wants to see whether Dany would be a worthy Queen first (though that’s not the entire truth), and Dany is too overwhelmed by Jon’s news of the Night King to make such a proposal just yet (and too attracted to Jon to make a well informed decision about something as serious as marriage, but she only tells this to Missandei ;)

Jon and Theon privately discuss Sansa, Jon tells Theon, “What you did for her is the only reason I’m not killing you”, Theon apologizes to Jon for betraying House Stark and tells him that he always wanted to be a Stark, always thought he had to choose between the two, this impossible choice - Greyjoy or Stark - but Sansa made him realize he never had to choose, he could be both

The conversation leaves Jon dazed and we know he’s taking Theon’s words and thinking about how he’s both Stark and Targaryen

Baelish immediately gets to work on Dragonstone, reuniting with Varys and Tyrion, trying to get as much info out of everyone as possible, he knows Jon and Howland talked privately at Greywater Watch but doesn’t know what about, Davos doesn’t know either

Baelish keeps on Jon’s case about his meeting with Howland but Jon deflects, saying they just discussed “his father”, Baelish switches tactics, brings up the potential marriage alliance with Daenerys again, Jon is still sorting through his feelings about being a Targaryen period and doesn’t want to talk about it, furthering Baelish’s suspicions, their relationship is a little reminiscent of Season 1 Ned/Baelish but Jon is much more aware than Ned was and much less trusting

IN KING’S LANDING

Cersei continues to enjoy the attention from Euron, he’s not honorable like Jaime and encourages her to do her worst to those who speak against her, starts to become the devil on her shoulder

Cersei is executing “enemies” left and right, anyone who’s been found by Qyburn’s little birds speaking against her, they’re brought to court, given a “trial”, and then are given some grisly punishment (reminiscent of Joffrey - “Which do you favor, your fingers or your tongue?”)

After watching an “enemy” die in a particularly gruesome fashion, Cersei excitedly, finally, takes Euron to bed because Jaime isn’t in the mood when she wants him

IN OLDTOWN

Sam and Gilly pour heavily into the books he stole from the Restricted Section, Sam comes across a book on the Children of the Forest, their worship of the weirwoods, their culture, the symbols they’ve left behind in certain areas and what they possibly mean

IN WINTERFELL

On Jon’s instructions, Sansa attempts to organize troops/supplies to be sent to the Wall to reinforce it but Bran advises her against it, telling her he doesn’t know why, but it doesn’t feel right, he’s still having tremendous difficulty controlling his visions

Sansa and Arya discuss being “home” and how it doesn’t really feel like home even with the three Stark kids all there together again, Sansa says she hasn’t felt at home since they first left Winterfell but Arya disagrees, says there was once when she felt at home after they had left, Sansa asks her when/where, Arya explains it wasn’t a place, but a person who came to feel like family, she asks Sansa if she ever had anyone like that in her life, Sansa thinks on it and replies yes, she had a person like that - neither of them says the names

As Jon had required it of everyone 12-60 to train daily to prepare for the fight against the dead, Sansa insists she train as well, is inspired by watching Arya and Brienne fight, and Arya begins to train Sansa, her first lesson: stick ‘em with the pointy end.

Arya and Bran reminisce and grow closer, he tries to explain to her what the 3ER is, etc. She asks him if he can see anything, he tells her he can if he focuses and knows where to look and asks if she wants him to try to find anything or anyone in particular, Arya hesitates

BACK ON DRAGONSTONE 

Dany is wary/cautious of Jon, discusses him with a small portion of her council - Theon, Tyrion, and Melisandre (the ones who know him best), when Theon and Tyrion leave, Melisandre mentions that both Jon and Dany are “magic” and that this is why she believes they’re both TPTWP, she tells Dany about how she brought Jon back to life, that that is what Davos meant when he said Jon “took a knife in the heart for his people”, this revelation obviously shakes Dany

Jon and Tyrion talk about the dragonglass, Tyrion mediates between him and Dany on this point, arranges another meeting between them

When Jon asks Dany about the dragonglass, she confronts him about Melisandre’s words, he reluctantly tells her it’s true that he died and came back, things are a little awkward, he asks her about when she hatched her dragons, she tells him the story, says that now they’re the last of their kind, as is she, “the last of the dragons” which, like his conversation with Theon, leaves Jon reeling as he’s continually confronted with the fact that he’s half-Targaryen

Varys and Melisandre watch Jon and Dany interact from a clifftop, they discuss how she “brought ice and fire together”, it’s “the Lord’s will,” Varys calls into question her “magic” and sacrifices, brings up the sorcerer who cut him, Mel echoes Kinvara’s words “If you are [Daenerys’] true servant, you have nothing to fear from me” which freaks Varys out

The title is in reference to Dany’s line to Jon about she and Viserion, Rhaegal, and Drogon being “The last of the dragons,” unknowingly also speaking it to the only other remaining “dragon” as Jon is a Targaryen and when she says this to him, Jon knows he is also a “last dragon.” (Also, this is my cheeky self stealing from Season 8′s “The Last of the Starks” because fuck you D&D. I mean, they stole it from themselves first anyway because S7 Dany says, “I am the last Targaryen, Jon Snow,” - the last Targaryen, the last of the Targaryens, the last of the Starks, the last of the dragons - meh, same thing, so really, I’m just stealing it back).

Episode 3 Inside the Episode: The Last of the Dragons

1) Sam and Gilly finding things in relation to the COTF:

This one is pretty obvious. We’ve been hearing about the COTF for seasons, Sam informing Stannis back in S5 that they used to hunt with dragonglass, etc. Even though they’re apparently all dead now, we still need to know more about their connection to the Army of the Dead.

And seriously, what the fuck else were Gilly and Sam supposed to find in those damn books Sam stole from the Restricted Section? This was made out to be such a big deal but even the “important” piece of information from show canon Season 7 - Jon’s parentage - wasn’t from the Restricted Section books, it was from the books Sam was tasked with transcribing as punishment for curing Jorah! 

So having Sam and Gilly actually find some useful information from those books just makes sense and is a payoff for so many scenes and a plot that was NEVER paid off in canon.

2) Melisandre’s convo with Dany about Jon being “magic”:

This was DEFINITELY hinted at in the S7 outline leaks! Dany and Jon’s “cliff” conversation in 7x05 originally was supposed to be them talking about how they’re both “magic”, Dany already knowing about Jon’s death. This was also the scene where he calls her “Dany” for the first time. In the context of show canon and the Aired Episode, this dialogue would have been clunky and awkward, but framed the way I’ve outlined above, would actually make it make sense.

3) Varys and Mel’s face off:

This has been hinted at since Season 6 with Varys’ confrontation with Kinvara. Varys is very anti-red priests and we were owed a showdown between him and them. The Red Priests and Varys should have had a much more involved conflict because of what material we got from prior seasons so Mel staying on Dragonstone to advise Daenerys (which is what she will be doing in this version of the story), finally delivers on something that has been set up for a while. 

4) Mel staying to advise Dany?

Yes, Mel is staying to advise Dany. Honestly, Mel’s story in show canon Seasons 7 and 8 is the biggest hint of a retcon because they kind of just threw her around and inserted her in places as if to let the audience know that they hadn’t forgotten about her, but she didn’t really have anything to do. 

Many of Mel’s lines from show canon also hint at a previous plot because so much of what she says and does just doesn’t make sense and is never paid off. “I’ve brought Ice and Fire together.” That was pointless. “Where will you go?” “Volantis.” That was pointless. “I have to die in this strange country.” That was pointless. 

All of these seem like really significant lines but nothing ever came of them. Like, what was the purpose of Mel going to Volantis? Just to hang out before the Long Night so she could come to Westeros to die after the dead were defeated?? Many of us thought she was going to come bringing the Fiery Hand with her but nope, nothing said about why she was there, we were just supposed to accept it. 

My guess is that D&D just liked some of Mel’s original dialogue so much “I’ve brought Ice and Fire together,” “I have to die in this strange country, just like you,” that they kept this all in their scripts but when they decided to go with the Mad!Dany storyline instead, Mel didn’t really serve a purpose there and so D&D could never pay off these lines that they set up. 

So Melisandre staying and advising Dany makes a lot of sense. She was at Jon’s side throughout Season 6, it follows that she would then want to be at Dany’s side through Season 7. So far as her relationship with Jon, well, they’re not in the North and Mel is a guest of Dany’s on Dragonstone, as is Jon, so he and Davos really can’t do much about it. 

5) Arya asking Bran about...:

I know this storyline I’m setting up will seem a little odd to some people. But bear with me! In show canon, Arya didn’t have much to do (and neither did Sansa) once Jon went to Dragonstone, so that’s how the Starkbowl of Winterfell came about - it just gave those two something to do to fill screen time. Which was incredibly obvious and really idiotic and way out of character for both Sansa and Arya. 

Here, in getting back home and Jon immediately leaving, this would leave Arya feeling lonely and isolated. She came home for Jon and then he just left. It would make sense that she would try to reconnect with her remaining siblings - hence her teaching Sansa to fight and trying to understand Bran’s 3ERness. 

In being away for so long, Arya really would have come to appreciate the meaning of family, and when she gets to Winterfell, she realizes there are people missing. It’s not enough. She wants more of that human connection back, that feeling of family. So she’s going to go looking for it, with Bran’s help.

Aaaaand that’s it for Episode 3. You guys can comment on these and tell me what you think, as questions etc. It’s allowed. Don’t be shy. (cough-please comment and tell me what you guys thing-cough).

Original Final Season 7: Preface Post

Season 7 Episode 1: Family, Duty, Honor

Season 7 Episode 2: Greywater Watch 

Season 7 Episode 3: The Last of the Dragons (Current episode)

Season 7 Episode 4: Dragonglass

Season 7 Episode 5: The Storm

Season 7 Episode 6: Summerhall 

Season 7 Episode 7: A City Fit For A King

Season 7 Episode 8: Protectors of the Realm

Season 7 Episode 9: The Battle For The Dawn

Season 7 Episode 10: ?

[dmny25]

Daenerys was never a well-written character

This is going stir controversy, but whatever.

I was never Daenerys’ biggest fan, the whole dragon thing never moved me, I usually wasn't taken in by her set pieces besides shock and awe. However, I never hated her (and I still don't). I was rooting for her to win the throne up until season 6.

The point of watching and investing in any character's arc is growth and development (or sometimes lack thereof as is the case with Cersei but she still evolves). Daenerys grows in seasons 1 - 5 from a meek princess to a khalessi to a conqueror to a queen. That is all good stuff. Season 5, which some people don't like, I loved at the time. It was so important for her growth, but now it's meaningless and I feel like I wasted my time. Going into season 6 and 7, so much of that character work was just thrown away and I don't understand why because it was good.

Dany was learning diplomacy, learning the intricacies of ruling, the grey areas that exist in morality, when mercy is necessary and so many other lessons that were thrown to the wayside. She regressed from a queen to a khalessi in season 6, which, fine, parallels and symmetry and coming full circle. But season 7? Their writing of her and the choices made for her storyline was atrocious.

The writers failed her and they failed her hard. Her character progression and development went so backward that it honestly makes me angry. They shafted her storyline in Westeros and her growth as queen for her stupid forced romance with Jon and has her going back on her words and her values. She's being a conqueror, not a queen despite her claims that she was going to be a queen who ruled and not a conqueror.

I feel like they've given her no endgame beyond the iron throne. She takes it, but then what? What is her tax plan? How will she harvest food for winter? What is she going to do to support infrastructure in the city? Is anyone going to fix the damn sewer system? How is she going to rid the city of corruption? Is she going to burn all the goldcloaks and replace them with Unsullied? I'm sure that'll go over well. She never actually got control of Drogon, he just came back to help her out and she never addressed the whole burning-a-three-year-old thing, what if he accidentally or purposefully kills another kid? Not hard to do in a city as densely populated as King's Landing. What about food? You can't have a dragon cutting through precious livestock in the middle of winter. People will starve and it won't matter how much money she gives them because there will be no food. What about religion? The Lord of Light doesn't have as much of a foothold in Westeros as in Essos, but if there's a fire queen, they're going to flock over. Considering how volatile and insular the Seven can be and how attached to it the smallfolk are, will that cause religious unrest or possible holy wars? What are her policies going to be? What laws will she change or enforce? These are not things she shouldn't worry about until later, they will be relevant when/if they all survive and need more allies. Westeros is not Essos, she doesn't know anything about the people, the geography, the history beyond the Rebellion, even the weather as evidenced by the fact that she thought it was a good idea to burn the harvest from the Reach right at the start of winter instead of just taking it to feed people as if they could just grow more.

If the writers had been given more time and we didn't have to shoehorn R+L=J in for reasons unknown, season 7 could've focused on Dany and what she actually claimed she wanted to do, which is break the wheel. She's done nothing towards that end. She landed on Dragonstone and immediately got wrapped up in the hoopla of highborn politics and nobility. She hasn't been going for the queen of the people angle anymore, for some reason. She should've. If the show had been more cohesive with her storyline, wanted to make a point that makes sense and ties together even further with Cersei's storyline, then Daenerys should've turned the people, the smallfolk, to her side the same as she did with the slaves in Essos. Different political landscape, but it comes down to the same principle. The people don't care who is ruling them really, they care about eating, having a roof over their heads, being safe with their families, making enough money to survive. Cersei blowing up the sept set Daenerys up to come in as the savior of the people, but she didn't take advantage of the opportunity. A part of that is Tyrion's influence. He's too caught up in the web of scheming and nobility as well but Varys, Mr. I-serve-the-realm-and-the-people, was there too. They had a whole argument about serving the people and nothing came of it.

It's just bad writing in a show that has some amazing storylines and arcs. Cersei and Sansa's writing is so complex and intricate and every story beat makes me feel what the writers intended. Jon's story is a lot more black and white, but I still feel for his character and care what happens to him. Even minor characters like Gilly and Sam or Missandei and Grey Worm, the writers got me invested in them. Every story has its inconsistencies but Dany's feel more egregious because (if this ends the way I think it will) Dany is going to be sitting on the iron throne. As a viewer, I need to feel like she earned it, just like she earned hatching the dragons and earned the Unsullied's loyalty and earned her title as queen of Meereen.

This is not anti-Dany or a knock against Emilia Clarke, who I see some people criticize for her acting and blame her for the turn in Dany's character arc. It's not Emilia's fault. I think she's doing exactly what the script called for her to do. She can convey so much with body language and little subtle expression changes. I don’t think she gets enough credit for that. And if she was supposed to be doing something different, the onus is on the writers and directors to correct her acting choices, not just leave it be. It comes down to the fact that she just could be written so much better.

Season 7 would've been more interesting if Daenerys and Jon didn't even meet. Let their storylines play out separately. Let Daenerys use diplomacy, her natural charisma and the presence (not the might) of the dragons to win the iron throne that season. She should've treated with the other noble houses in the Crownlands (especially the Velaryons) and other houses as well. They could’ve briefly introduced the Hightowers. She could’ve gotten control of Oldtown, are you kidding me? She could’ve met with whoever the hell is ruling the Stormlands nowadays. The Lannisters helped destroy House Baratheon, leaving the Stormlands in a state of unrest. You’re telling me they don’t want revenge? What about the Riverlands? Not mentioned literally at all after Arya killed the Freys, what is even happening there? She could’ve also directly addressed the people like she did in Essos. She would've gained the confidence of the realm on her own merits. She could've had the throne by the end of season 7 and Cersei would be dead, no problem. 

Jon should've stayed in Winterfell. We should've seen more of what they were doing to sure up the Wall and defend the North. Let the siblings all reunite and deal with Baelish together, the four of them. Bring forth the question of the Riverlands (where the hell is Edmure? Is he still in the Frey's dungeon?), get more into the lore of the White Walkers and explore Bran vs the Night King. Let Jon deal with his paternity before meeting Dany. The Starks knowing about R+L=J makes more sense as being the cause of a rift between the siblings than Sansa and Arya being upset with each other because... reasons? They didn't get along as kids and now the writers decided, let's forget all the intuition we had our girls learn over the seasons so they can be mad because shock value when Baelish is killed? Come on man. It's so disappointing.

[ihaveastorminme]

how ruthless are the gentle -

“Yes, I do.” The easiest lie he’s ever told, by far. It came so naturally, he hardly thought of it as false. “She’s easy to love.”

*

He’s been given so many names throughout his life, he hardly remembered them all.

Black Prince, they called him. Bastard, Blackfyre, wolfspawn. Skinchanger, murderer, man without honor. And he had embraced them all, having understood very early in his life that the Targaryen court of King’s Landing was not a place for the weak. That motherless little boys who felt alone and sometimes cried over it, trying their damndest to hide it, afterwards, did not survive long there. He’d shaped himself into a man others might fear and far too often he dreamt of a shapeless vengeance, though he could hardly decide against whom.

But others thought they understood his resentments better, and knew that there were many reasons to be afraid, when the Black Prince and second son of the King started courting Winterfell’s Daughter.

o. prologue

i.

It took them a month to reach King’s Landing. Far longer than it should have, in truth. Of the kingsguard, only Ser Arthur travelled with him, and the rest of his guard wasn’t as cumbersome as it might have been, since he’d left his men to march at their own pace. But then again, Jon was at his leisure. He was not particularly eager to go back to that shithole they called the capital, but for one reason, one person really, that he hoped waited for him there. 

But hope as he did and resolved as he was to do what he had to do, he and Dany had spoken little since Viserys’ death. She sent no word and his letters went unanswered.

It was hard not to be angry. Harder still not to be disappointed.

“Are you glad to go back home Jon?” Sam asked once they had stopped for a rest. He gratefully took the waterskin from Benjen’s hand and took a long sip.  Jon’s snort might have been an answer, but judging by the look on Sam’s face, he expected a real one.

“I take my home with me wherever I go, Sam,” Jon said as he walked by his uncle and clapped him on the back. Benjen laughed.  “He’s followed me everywhere since i was born and always complains the south is too hot.”

“Aye, because it is,” Benjen grumbled.

“If his balls aren't freezing, Ser Benjen is not comfortable,” Grenn said, causing laughter all around.

“You spend a lot of time thinking about my balls, boy?”

Jon sat down next to his uncle in the shade, took the wineskin from him gladly and took a long sip.

In truth, he had no real answer for Sam. King’s Landing was not, and had never been his home. Not because he had never wanted it to be - to his great bitterness, he had - but he had never felt welcome there. Sam might understand that some, but Sam had a mother who loved him, a sister who was sweet to him. A brother who did not hate him. Jon had had none of that in the Red Keep, though occasionally he had had Dany. But no one could have protected him from the virulence of the stories that had always circled his existence, in King’s Landing and elsewhere.

They had so many names for him: bastard, Blackfyre, wolfspawn. Skinchanger, murderer, man without honor.

When he was a boy, he used to get in fights over all the names they called him, instead of the one name he wanted. He remembered a time he used to feel so lonely and abandoned that he used to cry over it, and try his damndest afterwards, to hide it. But then he’d grown, and forgone hurt for anger. Taught himself not to care for words so much, the same way he had taught himself to smile at dinner while he stabbed a focke into his hand beneath the table. He had embraced his reputation, built on it, the way Tyrion Lannister had advised him to do. He wore black almost all the time now, adorned the pommel of his sword with a white wolf’s head and his revelry with black dragons and racing wolves both, took Ghost with him everywhere he went.

Dany found it all hilarious.

No, the weak did not last long in the capital. The arms of a loving mother would not have protected him either, no more than they had protected Sam from his cunt father. It might have been unkind to remind Sam of what he left behind and how inadequate his father through him, but he had to understand.  

When Jon reiterated this sentiment, Sam blushed and nodded.

“You told me.”

“I want to make sure you remember.” Jon laughed. “If you don’t, the only difference between your untimely death in your old home and your new one will be geography.”

“I understand.”

Jon looked at Sam again, taking his measure anew. “You could have stayed at the Citadel, you know. Why didn’t you?”

Jon had an innate curiosity for breaking things apart to understand how they worked, and it drove him to seek answers wherever they lay, but he grew bored of books too after a time. Sam never had that problem.

“I can go back, if life with you gets too exciting.” Sam answered with a smile. “Though I doubt you can. Lord Hightower will probably petition the king never to let you set foot in his city again.”

Jon was not worried. “He may try. He will fail.”

To his right, his uncle snorted. “I swear he would piss himself every time he caught sight of Ghost.”

He had. His fear had tasted acrid, like something that had turned. Jon laughed now, remembering it.

Sam eyed him, both confused and anxious. “How do you know you won’t be punished?”

Jon’s smile was a sharp thing. “My father loves me.”

His uncle’s silence was as telling as that of Ser Arthur, though only one of them was cracking with disapproval. Jon did not care - indeed, he could almost find a certain amount of amusement in it. In all his years, he had managed to shake his sworn shield quite a few times, but never had Ser Arthur left him completely. It was Jon’s opinion that this was the King’s way of keeping a leash on him; of reminding Jon of the walking talking reach of the crown’s power. His father’s power: to control him, stop him when he needed to, derail him or corral him when he needed to. Of course, short of Ser Arthur shoving his greatsword into him, Jon knew it would never work. Not now nor a thousand years from now. Though this had not stopped him from wondering of the precise nature of Arthur Dayne’s orders; whether or not Rhaegar Targaryen had drawn a line somewhere. It had made him do a great many stupid things in the past, this curiosity, pushing the limits of what was legal, decent, allowed, searching for that line to cross, wondering of this would finally be the time Dayne unsheathed that greatsword and came at him with it.  

He wondered sometimes, if Arthur Dayne hated him as much as any other man and woman from Dorne seemed to hate him. But to that, Jon did not know the answer to. Unlike the others, Ser Arthur kept his thoughts to himself.

ii

There was no one waiting for him when his company rode through the gates of the Red Keep. Jon had not been not surprised, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed. Whenever he came to the capital, Dany had always been there to greet him, whether they had parted on good terms or not. She seemed to have a knack for always knowing when he would show up. It eased him a little however, when he was told that the princess and her ladies had gone to enjoy the day by the seaside, just outside the city walls. So once he’d settled his men, Jon took a fresh horse and demanded directions.

“You should greet the King before you run off again. And your siblings.” Ser Arthur said, even as he prepared to follow him.

His siblings wouldn’t care to see him, the queen wouldn’t want to and his father wouldn’t have time for any unexpected visits. The time when he would have waited hours just for a glimpse of either of them was long gone.

“I will see them at dinner. Or not.”

Truth was he wanted to look upon Dany’s face far more than he wanted to greet his father’s solemn one and he cared not for how this must look. And besides, if Sansa Stark was outside the city, then there was where he must go. She would need persuasion as all people did and the sooner he learned how to best do that, the better.

It might have been odd for some people, that Jon had lived to be twenty and knew so little of his cousin; but then again those people would not have had his life. Or Sansa Stark’s, for that matter.

Before they met, she could have walked by him at any given moment and Jon would not have known her for family. She had as little of the Stark features as he had the Targaryen ones. He’d been curious about her when she’d come south to join Dany’s household as a lady in waiting, but she had proved different from what he had expected her to be and Jon had lost interest in her about as quickly as she’d lost interest in him.[1]  Not that it had mattered: barely a month after she’d come south, Jon had been send north, ostensibly so that he could visit his mother's family. Privately, it was well known that the capitol could not suffer to hold both Jon and Viserys in its bosom, after Jon had caved Viserys’ skull in on the training rig, despite him being fifteen and Viserys twenty two.

It had not escaped Jon’s attention that the direction of his exile had been north, and that he had been allowed to go only once Sansa Stark had come to court.

By time Jon had come back to King’s Landing with his own direwolf in tow, three years had gone by and his cousin had moved to Dragonstone, to spend the fourth one there, with Dany and Viserys. When she’d come back, Jon had already moved on to Oldtown.

The King was wise in never keeping his son and his brother in the same city for too long, but now Jon wondered if there had been more to it. If there was intent, in keeping him away from his only Stark relative this side of the Neck. Jon wouldn't put it past his father to do it. Or maybe it was because the king thought Jon might one day decide to deal with Viserys’ follies by killing him, instead of silencing the servants. It wasn’t as if Jon had never thought of it. Or tried, for that matter.

In the end the King needn’t have worried, since it hadn’t been Jon to cause Viserys’ death. The vicious cunt had managed to kill himself while playing with his fires - something that had surprise no one, so of course no one dared speak of it above a whisper. It had been a miracle that no one else had died, though plenty had come close when the flames had spread. They had almost taken the east wing before they were finally put out.

His uncle’s funeral had been the last time Jon had laid eyes on Dany and Sansa Stark both, and that had been more than a year past. Dany had held her stony grief open for all to see, but Sansa Stark and her northern ladies had hidden themselves under whisper-thin black veils that fluttered about them like smoke when they moved, the very picture of the grieving maidens. There had been rumours of a betrothal between the Stark girl and Viserys for some time, though nothing had never been made official. Still, he’d seen people throw flowers in front of Lady Stark’s horse we she rode to and from the sept of Baelor, as if she were the princes’ grieving lady. Jon didn’t need to know anything about her to know she’d been performing a part that day. Everyone in King’s Landing did, but even so - Viserys had been a volatile all his life, and grown crueller with time. The only woman capable of loving him had had died giving birth to Dany, something for which, coincidentally, Viserys held his sister responsible and never forgave her for.

Still, Daenerys had had been heartbroken. Jon had seen as much. After the funeral, she had stayed in King’s Landing only as long as it took her to pack, before she sequestered herself and a few of her closest ladies - Sansa Stark among them - to Dragonstone.

To mourn, Dany had told him.

Jon would not have believe it even if the gods had let her walk through fire to prove it.

It had not been her feelings he’d distrusted. He believed her capable of all that was both good and terrible; and Jon knew what it meant to miss someone, even though you would never wish them back into your heart again. He knew these things.  But he also knew when he was being lied to.

He’d called her out on it, but Dany had cared much for his opinion. She’d cared even less for his questions. She had been cold, angry and secretive that last time they’d spoken. Jon would have known she had been hiding something even if she hadn’t seemed so scared, but she’d refused his help and when he had not relented, she had turned to anger.

Eventually she had returned to the capitol however; although Jon had been very surprised to learn that though Dany had come to King’s Landing months ago, Sansa Stark had only just joined her. Daenerys had left her in Dragonstone, alone with her own ladies and only a few guards.

Rhaegar must have been furious.

Jon wondered if Sansa Stark had ever thought about escaping. If she had even a drop of Arya’s willfulness, she would have. Whether or not she had understood the truth of her situation as a child, Jon had no doubt it couldn’t escape her notice now. What kind of chances would she have though, if she tried? Would she care that she’d be causing a diplomatic incident, by seeking her own freedom?

He would need answers to these questions before he set his plan in motion. Who she was and how she’d react would matter more than almost anything else.

The most fascinating thing about her had been her direwolf, though he had thought it both ridiculous and telling that Sansa Stark had called her beast Lady, of all things.

[gavinmarshall]

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[dvsvsgrr]

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[beyondmistland]

My Thoughts on The Sons of the Dragon

I never thought I'd be saying this but overall I was disappointed with TSOTD despite the new material. While some parts of it were quite good by and large the majority of the text felt underwhelming to me, particularly because what we got in Book of Swords is an unedited first draft. As a result, there are typos, plot holes, issues with dates as well as lineage (seriously the Hightower family tree is a mess) and name changes (I much prefer Robar over Rogar personally).

Aegon I  The use of slander is highly uneven. IMHO it would be better to either remove it entirely or use it to the fullest extent and make Maegor's historiography genuinely convoluted. To use one example: Why is the episode with the cat at the age of three most likely slander when the incident with the horse and stable boy at the age of eight is treated as fact?

 There was barely any mention of Aenys's possible bastardy and absolutely no mention of Maegor's possibly magical conception. That sucks.

 It's interesting that some people thought Maegor came before his niece in the succession and others after her. A hint at different succession laws prior to the reign of Jaehaerys I?

 So on top of the Faith having an army and an independent court system it had tax exemptions? Cool. That brings it much closer to the RL medieval Catholic Church in terms of wealth and worldly power.

 One god with seven faces! Hah! The High Spider's work endures @racefortheironthrone!

 There's no mention of who Alyssa Velaryon's Targaryen mother was. Darn.

Aenys I  What happened to Ronnel Arryn's wife and did they ever have any children?  I wonder what the lands, offices, and honors Aenys and Maegor bestowed upon their favorites consisted of? After all the Crownlands are pretty paltry size-wise.

 I am still sore about the fact that there wasn't a Dornish War between 37-39 AC. The setup was perfect for one. Maegor as Hand attacking Dorne in revenge for the Vulture King after convincing dreamy Aenys of how glorious it would be for the sons of the Conqueror to complete his life's work by bringing Dorne under the aegis of the Iron Throne only for Aenys to suddenly call it off on a whim or because of a peace offer from Deria reminding him both that his mother died fighting them and that they had feasted together as friends not too long ago. At the very least we should have gotten some details about the relationship between Aenys and Maegor, especially in light of the fact that Maegor served as Hand for two years during which time the realm was at peace somehow.

 Why were Aegon and Rhaena besieged in Crakehall Castle by the Poor Fellows when they had Dreamfyre with them? Honestly, the best solution IMO to the whole Westerlands conundrum would be for the Poor Fellows to launch a night attack while Aegon/Rhaena are on their progress, resulting in the death of Aegon's original dragon and a wounded Dreamfyre fleeing. (Btw, I did NOT come up with this idea just to be clear.)

 There's no mention of Visenya having poisoned Aenys possibly. Did GRRM write material on Aenys and Maegor for TWOIAF that didn't make it into TSOTD?

 I really hope we get Maegor's eulogy for his father and Alyssa's dirge for her husband in Fire & Blood: Volume 1 because that would be so cool.

 Did anyone else get the feeling that if Aenys had been king in a time of peace after Targaryen authority had been cemented he might not have done too bad?

Maegor I  Dick Bean and Bernarr Brune were one of the few heartwarming scenes in the whole story even if it is a case of good men in service to a bad cause.

 Why would Maegor pick a super-fat knight (Ser Guy (the Glutton) Lothston) for one his champions during the Trial by Seven?

 I wonder what the scriptures of the Faith have to say about a holy man bearing arms given Ser Garibald of the Seven Stars as well as what is its stance on suicide because it doesn't appear to be a major sin unlike in RL.

 I wonder where Blackhull is located (probably the Crownlands if I had to guess) and whether it is a town or castle (personally my money is on the former).

 We got a good Bracken and a brave Frey for once! Yay! (Now all we need is a nice Florent and a decent Peake. You can do it GRRM!)

 Why is there no mention of Maegor possibly being changed by his head injury and coma a la Baelor I? Apart from the episode with the cat and horse Maegor seems much more in control of himself and sympathetic compared to after his Trial by Seven. The dude fought pirates and robber knights on top of winning tourneys and melees for crying out loud!

 Where exactly is the Great Fork of the Blackwater located?

 Why don't we hear anything about tension in the Faith while Dorne was independent and why don't we hear anything about Dornish smallfolk joining the Poor Fellows on the march?

 Apart from Stonebridge and the Great Fork we don't get any other pitched battles, which is super disappointing to me, as is the fact that somehow the Stormlands and Vale both sit out the entire conflict. The latter has an entire chapterhouse at Gulltown! Seriously, what the hell were they doing all that time?

 Given that the chapter of the Warrior's Sons stationed at King's Landing numbered 700 and the chapter at Stoney Sept 200 I think it is safe to say that the Faith Militant is a lot smaller than I originally thought.

 Grand Maester Myres was a stupid rehash of Grand Maester Gawen who should seriously have been given a different death or replaced with Hareth.

 Why are female characters like Poxy Jeyne and Patrice Hightower called witches for almost no given reason? Seriously, the misogyny in TSOTD is kind of OTT. On the other hand it was nice to learn that witchcraft and heresy are sins in the eyes of the Faith.

 The buildup to Maegor's attack on Oldtown was awesome.

 Maegor's character as king is really inconsistent. Sometimes he's completely crazy and at other points remarkably reasonable. (Allowing the Warrior's Sons of Oldtown to take the black, latter allowing Poxy Jeyne's Poor Fellows to take the black too, giving the Faith Militant half a year to surrender after taking Oldtown, only moving against his nephew Aegon after the latter directly challenged him, reconciling with Ceryse, initially refusing to believe that Alys had been unfaithful, and not wiping out whole families after the Battle Beneath the God's Eye.)

 Is it just me or does Maegor outlaw the Faith Militant three times?

 I wonder what are a wedded wife and queen's traditional rights, incomes, and privileges. Also, why don't we ever hear of any queens exercising these powers?

 Why didn't Prince Aegon and Prince Viserys have their own dragons when their older and younger siblings all did?

 How the hell did Quicksilver get to the Westerlands all the way from Dragonstone? (One explanation a fan came up with that I really like is that either a Velaryon Kingsguard or a bastard son of Aenys named Aemon bonded with Quicksilver and took her to the Westerlands, where he died defending his trueborn kin, thus allowing Prince Aegon to claim his father's dragon for himself.)

 Regarding the Battle Beneath the Gods Eye: What is up with GRRM's obsession for a hundred casualties? Also, Prince Aegon was an idiot. One does NOT simply fly into the jaws of Balerion.

 Furthermore, why the hell is a bastard from Barrowton fighting for Prince Aegon? Wouldn't a Manderly make more sense? (On that note I must confess that I was really hoping for Maegor to have made a Bolton a member of his Kingsguard. Oh well...)

 It's interesting that Maegor didn't like being called "the Cruel" or "kinslayer". Almost as though he actually had a conscience. Heh.

 The fall of House Harroway is brutal. Seriously, GRRM has one bloody imagination.

 So belief in the curse of Harrenhal started with the Harroways. Neat.

 Maegor decreed that Harrenhal should go to the strongest of his men because he grew fed up with people asking him for it. Hah.

 Apart from the Harroways Maegor doesn't exterminate any other houses the way TWOIAF says he did, which is weird.

 Poxy Jeyne was pretty cool for an 8-bit character. On the other hand that makes the other characters' lack of depth stand out even more. Who are you Ragged Silas? Who are you Dennis the Lame? I don't know.

 More child-brides in the form of Lord Celtigar's thirteen and twelve year-old maiden daughters. Ugh. Why GRRM? Why do you keep doing this when you insist the opposite is true? Especially in this case there is no excuse for making them this young given that we know literally nothing else about them.

 I swear Jeyne Westerlings are cursed. Elinor Costayne on the other hand is one fiery woman.

 Given the way Tyanna's death is presented she might actually have poisoned Maegor's other wives! On the other hand, prior to Tyanna he never even conceived a child to begin with.

 Apparently Houses Darklyn, Massey, Towers, Staunton, Bar Emmon, Buckwell, Rosby, Stokeworth, Hayford, Harte, Byrch, Rollingford, Bywater, and Mallery all together barely command 3600 men and 400 knights, which is weird. If the Masseys are that weak despite ruling a whole damn peninsula how the hell did they give the Storm Kings so much trouble before the conquest?

 Maegor at the end of his reign doesn't appear at all to be broken or depressed the way he is described to be in TWOIAF, which makes the whole possibility of him having committed suicide after descending into madness much weaker, which is very weird because his reaction to Alys's stillbirth sets up what happens with Jeyne Westerling and Elinor Costayne very well without any actual payoff.

 How were Vermithor and Silverwing able to hide in Storm's End when Rhaena couldn't hide Dreamfyre in the Westerlands?

 On that note, how the hell were Jaehaerys and Alysanne able to hide in Maegor's backyard at Storm's End when Tyanna found Rhaena's twin daughters halfway across the continent?

 How is Vermithor the oldest and biggest dragon if Dreamfyre was being ridden by Rhaena since she was twelve?

 How in the hell did Lord Robar think Vermithor and Silverwing would be enough to challenge Balerion the Black Dread?

 Maegor ruled for six years and sixty-six days. That's almost as funny as one of his champions during the Trial by Seven being Lord Lucifer Massey.

 Jaehaerys I ascended on the eve of a possible Dornish invasion, which might help fix the whole Dornish Wars conundrum TWOIAF gave us and provide GRRM an opportunity to heavily feature the Stormlands. Cool!

 Why was the Faith's independent courts enough of a big deal for Jaehaerys I to deal with the issue when it never came up during the reigns of either Aenys or Maegor?

 We have possibly three new houses: Poore, Bush, and Whistler. Great?

 I was really hoping for more members of the Kingsguard to show up and whatever happened to Ser Raymont Baratheon after he saved Aenys's life?

 Even though it's been two whole days since I read the text I still can't get out of my head the image of a depressed Maegor sitting atop the Iron Throne with the head of Grand Maester Desmond in his hands.

[secretkelly]

Beauty and Transitioning 101

BEAUTY AND TRANSITIONING 101

Step 1(Finding you and weighing the decision) – Accept yourself!  Your opinion of who you are is what matters most!  Find solace and a safe circle in support groups, counseling, and friends and family to find yourself.  You could even utilize forums and chat rooms to help you get started.  Any support can be helpful! Especially in the beginning! Being a transsexual a lot of times takes growth, perseverance, and is definitely a little about selfishness.  It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.  You must tell yourself this!  Think about it, the people in your life who don’t accept you are usually basing it on their own selfish views of who you are and should be. You have two choices.  You can make everyone else happy or you can make yourself happy!  Life is short and you must lead your life for you!  Don’t waste your years.  Living with regret is a horrible feeling.

For the insecure ones!  If whats holding you back is age, height, and others saying you can’t…STOP!  I want you to throw that negativity out the window!  Women and men come in all different shapes, sizes, and looks!  If being a woman is just about being beautiful to you, then maybe you should rethink your transition.  Being a woman is so much more than looks!  For the tall girls let me name some tall statuesque women. Tyra Banks, Naomi Campbell, Kimora Lee Simmons, and many more! Does their height alter their femininity? I think not! These names should sound familiar to you. Keep in mind hormones can do a lot to diminish harsh lines, muscles, bulkiness, and it beautifies and softens the skin. There are other surgical procedures we will speak of later.

Step 2 – BRAVERY! Stick to your guns. Don’t give others a reason to question who you are.  You know who you are and you define who you are. No one else does! Some of you may need counseling to get you on a safe and stable bedding. There is no harm in this. While others are fighters and know exactly what they want and aren’t scared to live it.

Remember to always be respectful of other peoples’ opinions, but make sure you put your opinion out there as well. After all opinions are like assholes, everyone has one. Doesn’t mean you need to take it to heart.

When you are ready (Read that phrase again! When you are ready!)  to come out to your family and friends you will need to educate them on the decision, but their approval is not needed! Don’t fight them! Debate, but keep it classy. Yelling and showing aggression will not get your point across.

I know it will hurt a lot, especially with some of the things they might say. Keep in mind some of their attitude is their own confusion, anger, and their own selfishness coming out. Stay strong, don’t let them control your emotions! Let them know how much it hurts you inside to live a lie every day. Keep to how you feel inside and less about image! They may not understand at first, but eventually one day they will come around! Some wont, but every big decision in life comes with sacrifice.  There are others who will support and love you!  Count on this!

Step 3 (Therapy) – I suggest you always see a counselor first, and really understand what you are feeling. I think many times trans-women are misdiagnosed.  They have body dysphoria disorder, rather than being a transsexual.  A counselor will also be needed to further your transition.  A counselor will also help provide much needed support, help you vent, and help you grow stronger with in!  Believe me, you will need to stay strong for your journey.

As mentioned above you will also utilize a counselor to get on hormones and later to go post-operative. I do not think girls should self-medicate. Plus,  the counselor should also refer you to a electrolysis/laser hair removal technician.  You will normally get a referral rate. I will explain more in the next section.

Step 4(Hair Removal/Hormones) – Electrolysis and laser hair removal is painful I will not lie to you. If you have pain killers I would suggest to take them before hand!  I would also suggest to do a mixture between laser and electrolysis.  In between your hair removal treatments I would suggest facial peels with laser or even dermabrasion, because hair removal can be very irritating to the skin.  Keep your skin hydrated!  Drink lots of water, moisturize, moisturize, moisturize!  I would drink 4 to 5 bottles of water a day.  I personally like Clinique “Dramatically Different Moisturizer” and I like putting straight vitamin E oil on my face and using witch hazel for an astringent.  Alcohol is very drying to the skin, and it makes you look older.  This was suggested to me by my electrolysis and it has done wonders for my skin!

You may also want to utilize vitamins to help your skin!  Vitamins E and C are the most commonly used for skin!  It really does help!

Girls may ask where I would go for hair removal treatment. I live in the Chicago area,  so I would suggest Cassandra for hair removal.  She works with Dr. Miller who is a endocrinologist.  She is very good and understands the need and  cost of transition.  Also keep in mind she is also a trans-woman herself, so you will be treated with dignity and respect.  I will link that info at the end.

As far as hormones, I suggest every girl use a endocrinologist, rather than self-medicating.  A endocrinologist will give you blood tests to give you your hormone count and make sure you are inserting hormones into your body safely for your health.

Many girls over-medicate and ruin their sexual organs.  If any of you plan on going post-operative you will want to keep the sensation in your penis.  Hormones can ruin the nerve endings, and not to mention hormones are hard on the liver.   The more sensation you have in your penis, the better chance you have reaching orgasm post-op.

Using a good endocrinologists will heighten you to your fullest feminine potential, by watching your testosterone level and estrogen level, and giving you the right dosage for your body.  This will be the safest way and  you will achieve great results.

Don’t think over-medicating will make the transition process go faster!  It takes five years for hormones to fully work on the body!  I know a lot of girls over-medicate thinking it will make the process faster, but really you are only being harsh to your body.

Pill form you only use a percentage of the hormone, and even shots, you only use a low percentage of the hormone.  I personally think the best route to go is hormone pellets! You use pellets up to a six month period, and it is evenly distributed through out your body.  I would suggest Dr. Odea to all girls, at least for the first year or two. He will do miraculous things for you! I will post his website at the bottom as well!  He is located in California area though.  I think he is worth the trip!

For my Chicago girls, I would suggest Dr. Miller!  I like him a lot. I do not go to Dr. Odea anymore.  I now utilize delestrogen shots and spironolactine with Dr. Miller. I get blood tests regularly with him to make sure my levels are correct. We are working on my own regimen at this time, and you will have your own as well.  Every girl’s hormones are different keep in mind.

If girls are going to self medicate I would suggest you go to this page http://www.annelawrence.com/twr/regimens.html for details on proper dosage. I would also suggest this supplier  for your hormones http://www.inhousepharmacy-europe.com/transgender/transgender.html they are reputable from my understanding. Please girls follow the proper dosages, and don’t over-medicate!

Step 5 (Clothes, Cosmetics, Eyebrows, Hair) –  When you are ready to go shopping this will be an exciting time for you.  You will be on your way to becoming the woman you always were!  Remember gender is between the ears.  I would suggest studying styles, looks, and fashions online and in magazines.  I would also take your measurements, and invest in some silicone breast forms (I call them chicken cutlets) till you are developing breast or get implants. You can get those here http://thebreastformstore.com to wear in a bra and they have all different sizes.

Make sure to find clothing that best suits your body and is becoming. Remember your shoulders will probably be larger than your hip proportions.  So your dress size for dresses may vary. You may be petite in the mid-section, but larger on top.

My favorite online store is http://www.greatglam.com the clothes are reliable, cheap, and last. I used to shop at Bebe a lot and other high end fashion brands until I noticed their clothes frayed fast, and would end up falling apart. I like great glam, cheap or not, their clothes last. Whatever your personal preference is dress for you!

Eyebrows are the window to the face as they say.  A perfect eyebrow will really bring femininity to your face!  It’s hard finding a good eyebrow specialist.  If I may make a suggestion, I get my done when I go to get my nails done.  Asians in my personal experience do great eyebrows.  Especially compared to when I went to a white girl in a hair salon!  They always seemed to be uneven.  Thinking about it now even annoys me.

Hair will be a necessity. When you are first starting out you will most likely need to wear wigs. Many transsexuals utilize wigs and extensions.  There is no shame in this!  Women do it too!  I would spend the most on your hair!  Lace front/full wigs are the most natural.  I would make sure to invest in a 100 % natural hair wig.  Here is a good website http://www.invisiwig.com you can order offline.

Girls with hair, I personally love gay hair stylist.  They in my opinion always seem to be the best.  Every time I have gone to a female hair stylist I have always ended up disappointed. They turned my hair yellow or brassy or cut it badly.  They are just not good hair stylist in my opinion.

I love Robert in Chicago at Salon 1800 in Oldtown.  He also judges the Miss Continental pageants, and he is a beauty platform artist for Moroccan Oil products.  They are the best products, especially for damaged hair!! Check out their website http://www.morrocanoil.com you wont be sorry! If you are in Chicago for a few days get in touch with him!

Hair extensions can be put in many ways.  I have done the clip-ins and I have done the dreamcatchers. I love both. The clip-ins are much more inexpensive, but it’s up to you what you do.  My hair now is all natural, but hair extensions can give you a more sexier and fuller look. Think sex kitten!  You can watch youtube tutorials to help teach you how to put extensions in on your own too. Youtube is really a great source to learn tips on beauty!

Make up is an art. You will learn new looks and styles every day. I would suggest every girl own the Kevyn Aucoin beauty books.  These will really help you on contouring and enhancing your face!  We all have our flaws.  I again would suggest youtube for learning, and I would suggest practice, practice, practice in the mirror.  I personally would practice with cheap make up, so you aren’t wasting the expensive. Make-up is expensive when you think about it.

Make up brands I like are Cargo Cosmetics, Dior, Estee Lauder, Smashbox, and Nars.  I am not a fan of MAC foundations, but their eyeshadows and pigments are amazing!  Just have fun and study your craft and face!  If you aren’t sure how it looks jump on a webcam or take a picture!

Step 6 (Surgeries optional) – I personally believe FFS (facial feminization surgery) is a natural process of transitioning.  Unless you started really young or got lucky with feminine features.  A man and woman’s facial shape is different in many ways!  I think every girl should have at least her nose and adams apple done to achieve a more passable appearance.

Adams apple will normally give you away the fastest.  I think the face should be concentrated on before the breast.  Nobody is going to see you walking down the street nude, but they will see your face. Passing will open up more doors for you to be honest.  It will open up a better chance at jobs, relationships, and acceptance. It will also in the end make you feel more comfortable in your skin.

If you aren’t a wealthy executive who is transitioning or have a rich family or benefactor transition is going to be expensive.  Some girls pay by credit, others escort, some model, and many others go the cheapest route and pump their face with silicone to enhance their femininity.  I don’t condone silicone pumping in the face, but many do it.  If you are going to do this, make sure you use medical grade silicone, and go to a specialist/doctor who offers it.  Don’t go to some crackpot!

I would also suggest webcaming for transition.  It pays well, it’s not illegal, and it’s safe!  There are numbers of sites that you can model for online.  I personally like streammate and chaturbate, because there is no chargebacks and there is great traffic.

If you are going to go the full service sex work route, be safe girls! Screen your calls and make sure to protect yourself!

You will probably need anywhere between 20 k to 40 k to do your face and breast properly.  Not to mention you will need to save up a few extra grand for living expenses and more, if you don’t have anyone to rely on. As I said it is very expensive, but your face is what everyone sees.

Go to the best, google reviews and history. Make sure you are going to a craniofacial/maxillofacial surgeon. They specialize in the bones of the face!

Some doctors I would suggest are Dr. Garth Fisher, Dr. Deschamps-Braly, Dr. Weinzweig, Dr. Lee, Dr. Cheetawaut, Dr. Suporn, and Dr. Mayer are a few. Don’t be scared to interview and ask hard hitting questions to your surgeon.  Go with who you believe is the best!

If you are a girl planning on going post op or getting castrated. I would again goto the best doctors for this. Don’t mess with your downstairs and go to a hack job.  You will definitely be dissatisfied! It wont be due to the loss of your penis, it will be due to the mess you have downstairs.

Some doctors I can suggest are Dr. Toby Meltzer, Dr. Suporn, Dr. Reed, and Dr. Menard.  I have seen all of these surgeons work in person, and they did reputable jobs.  I used to work in a laser/electrolysis office, so I saw work from every doctor you could imagine.

Dr. Meltzer, will be the most expensive, but his vaginal skills are amazing. Dr. Suporn and Dr. Menard are both out of the country, but great doctors.  Dr. Suporn, does this surgery every day since he is located in Thailand.  He has much practice and gives great results.

I hope this information has been helpful!  If other girls have things to add please leave suggestions and tips in a comment.  This really helps our trans-sisters out. Thanks for reading secretkelly.com

Sweet Kisses,

Kelly

Links to people I mentioned:

Dr. Odea – http://www.odeamedical.com Dr. Miller – (773) 237-7733

Cassandra hair removal – (773) 919-4247

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