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janiedean · 6 years ago

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JB + the High Priestess, SanSan + the Empress, Jaime & Tyrion + the Tower, Gendrya + the Moon. Pick any that inspires you, or all of them, or none if they just don't work. Totally not a case of "I tried do a tarot reading for fun a couple of days ago but this stuff is confusing, so might as well reuse the result here." *whistles*

AAAND LET’S SEE WHAT HAPPENS

okay so, the jb one didn’t want to work but I have at least another ask for that ship so I went for the others, HAVE AT IT ALL THREE OF THEM. sorry for the length just skip the ones you don’t care for in case xD

sansan fertility, natural world, beauty, dependence on others

Arya is the only person present. She’s also making herself scarce, telling Sansa that she would do it but like hell she was going to be there for it when they actually had to do the deed - she didn’t care to hear it.

That’s all right. Sansa just needs a witness, after all.

She stands in front of the heart tree, in the summer dress she sewed for herself in secret for the last few months. It’s all white and gray with blood-red leaves in it, and of course she also has sewn herself a cloak that’s a bit too large on her shoulders, but - the previous nuptials that she attended gave her the idea, and she rather liked it for herself, so why not?

So, she stands next to the tree as the sun rises from the horizon and turns the white snow a light shade of pink, and thinks that once upon a time she thought her father would walk her to that brave, gentle and strong knight he promised he’d find for her -

Except, she thinks as Arya finally stops threatening Sandor’s life from behind the tree she’s chosen to lurk behind and he finally walks towards her, she thinks she found him on her own, and she wants to think her father wouldn’t say no.

He walks towards her slowly, dressed in pale grey and white, black hair falling over his face, not quite hiding the scar anymore, and once she couldn’t look at him, but now if their eyes meet she can do everything but not look at him, at how he looks like he was born in the North with those grey eyes, at how he’s staring at her as if he can’t believe they’re doing this -

She waits until he comes up to her.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, for the umpteenth time. She hadn’t thought he could sound so gentle, when they met the first time.

Now she knows he can be gentle, but more than that. She smiles. “It was my idea, wasn’t it?”

Obviously, he’d have never presumed to ask her, or so he told her a while ago, and she wishes he would have, but... she thinks she rather likes not waiting for others to ask her for anything, if she wants it.

She unclasps her cloak, and he leans down enough that she can tie it around his neck, and it does fit him perfectly. “You gave me yours, more than once,” she says whispers. “Let me return the favor.”

She can see his throat working up and down as he nods and stands back up, her fingers tangling with his.

She’s not going to tell him now, because she knows he would just scoffs at her, but as he looks down at her as if she’s the best thing that’s happened to him, she can’t help thinking that if she ever dreamed of a beautiful knight marrying her... well.

She might have just gotten her wish.

jaime & tyrion: destruction, sudden, flames, fear of change

Winterfell’s yard is covered in burning fires - Jaime supposes that it’s one of the few advantages of having real breathing dragons flying around. The fires never die down. Which is a good thing, considering that they haven’t seen the sun in days.

He also -

He also hasn’t talked to Tyrion since he arrived here with Aerys’s - with Daenerys Targaryen, hells, he’s not going to think of Aerys first when he looks at her otherwise he’s never going to even come close to trusting her, and he can’t afford to not trust her these days. No one can, for that matter. And fine, Tyrion hasn’t talked to him, either, but - but the Long Night is upon them, and he doesn’t want to die without having at least… well. Talked things through, for what it’s worth.

His brother is standing in front of one of those fires. No one else is there, but it’s freezing cold and people are changing their shifts, so no one is actually in the yard. It’s supposed to be the dead of the night, technically, or it would be if the sun still rose.

He walks next to him and says nothing. He knows Tyrion must be aware he’s there, because he did make a noise of acknowledgment, but - but he said nothing. So Jaime also says nothing and stares ahead in those flames for a moment, and then he immediately looks away because he can’t stand to look at fire for too long.

Stands to reason Tyrion can, but -

Ah, fuck that. He sits on the ground, knowing he’ll regret it later.

“I never told you because I was scared shitless,” he blurts, not quite looking at either the flames nor his brother. He’s staring down at his right wrist - Brienne insisted that he found some wool to wrap it in or he’d get frostbite, and fine, he doesn’t want to lose any more pieces.

“How about you elaborate?” Tyrion asks, his voice not wavering.

“There’s not much to elaborate. Father pretty much strong-armed me into it, I regretted lying to you the moment it left my mouth because I will probably go to my grave remembering how devastated you looked, and after… I knew that if I told you you’d hate me for the rest of your life and I didn’t - I couldn’t handle it. I was terrified of even damn breaching the subject, and I hated that I was involved in it, so I didn’t even think about it, because I hated myself for it. And then I realized I couldn’t run from that kind of secret forever and I’m glad I told you even if I hate that you hate me. There, was that elaborate enough for you?”

“Somehow,” Tyrion sighs, sounding weary, “it was exactly what I was hoping you’d say and what I thought you might, which is bloody unnerving because by all means I should hate you and I never really could and you’re making it really hard to keep that resolution.”

Jaime has to let out a half-laugh at that. “If you were hoping I’d say it, why would it be a problem if it was hard to keep the resolution?”

“Because you were the last person I ever thought would do such a thing,” he exhales, “except that then I remember Father was involved and I don’t know if I can blame you completely.”

Jaime nods, still not looking ahead.

“Any reason why you’re staring at your arms?”

“I don’t know if I can stand looking at you while I said that and I can’t - I had enough fire with Aerys. I’ll pass.”

Nothing happens for a moment.

Then Tyrion moves closer, sitting down nearer. “What if I told you that I like that?”

“You wanted dragons to be real when you were six,” Jaime shakes his head. “Is that how you think you’d surprise me?”

“What if I told you that I wanted one so I could burn both Father and Cersei myself?”

Years ago, he’d have been horrified. Now, though - “Considering how they were to you, that’d be the least one would assume. Also, she asked me to come back for her and I burned her letter and I never regretted not going back, so I suppose I can’t fault you for that, either.” The part of him who’d have screamed that it was wrong to leave her has been silent for a long, long time.

Tyrion nods, and he doesn’t tell him to leave. That should be good enough. Except that Jaime then realizes something, and maybe it’s dumb but years ago he wouldn’t have hesitated before sharing it, so -

So, fuck it.

“You know, maybe you did kill Cersei with a dragon,” he says.

“… How did I happen to miss such a thing?”

Jaime shrugs. “Well, I don’t know if you talked to the not-so-dead Aegon Targaryen lately, but when he showed up here just after signing that truce with your queen, he said that talking to you made him decide to handle things himself. And they were the one taking her out, if you didn’t forget them. Do your math.”

At that, Tyrion finally turns to look at him. His mismatched eyes look absolutely appalled at his poor attempts at levity, but a moment later he does laugh, the flames making that scar he got at Blackwater look as red as dark blood, and - “You really won’t let me harbor resentment in peace. Never mind. You wouldn’t even when you weren’t there, anyway.”

“… What?”

“Never mind. I tried and I never quite managed it. It’s fine. And it would be ridiculous if I held on to grudges now.”

Jaime hadn’t known someone could feel so relieved at hearing on single sentence in his life, but now he does, and it becomes even more relieving when he raises an arm and Tyrion pretends to not notice but then moves against his side.

For the next short while, looking at those flames isn’t even hurting his eyes that much.

gendrya: domesticity, the wilderness, howling, illusion, insecurity

She did tell him, during the Long Night.

Once I thought we might ride off together like in the songs. We’d be outlaws together. But I thought it was stupid the moment it came to me.

Admittedly, he’s never been that great with fancy words, or fancy anything. So he had just said, it wasn’t stupid. She had looked up at him with those grey eyes of hers, the grip she had on her sword’s handle slightly going lax when she had been clutching at it hard enough her knuckles turned white from the moment she said she wanted to talk to him.

It wasn’t, she had repeated.

No, he had said, shaking his head. It would have been entirely more stupid if I had assumed someone like you would even have looked at me twice in different circumstances.

Now that is stupid, because I would have, she replied, and then her mouth had been tentatively on his, and -

There was no need for fancy words, after that.

But after the Long Night was over, when people were picking up the pieces and she looked increasingly uncomfortable with the prospect of staying here surrounded by people who’d ask her about what she planned to do with her father’s legacy and looked at her brother as if he would have to promise her hand to someone, he had said, you know, we could ride off together.

It had sounded downright stupid... except that then she had kissed him again and said yes even if her voice shook as she asked if he really wanted someone who couldn’t be a proper wife to him and didn’t know anything of what was expected of her in such a situation, and he had said that he didn’t give a single damn about that and after all her knowing how to sew wasn’t what got them out of Harrenhal, back in the day.

So they did run, even if she writes to Winterfell regularly. She said she would be back at one point. Just not now.

Gendry’s fine with that. It’s not like he ever cared for castles in the first place, and knowing that his father was a king hadn’t really changed that. They rode until they found some abandoned house in the Riverlands that was close enough to Riverrun and not too far from the Kingsroad, and they never quite left, and maybe sometimes they barely are there because they ride out to see what’s become of Westeros after everything is said and done, but when they are he cooks and she cleans, he mends their clothes and she takes care to check if their weapons need more sharpening, and maybe they haven’t married but they laid together so many times they’ve lost count, and so what if Arya takes the lead more often than not? He thinks he likes that, the way she seems to know what she wants, and the way she looks at him like he’s exactly everything she wants, and once she told him in a whisper that she liked how he looked at her the way most others only ever looked at her sister.

Well, your sister is pretty, he had said, but she’s really not the kind of that catches my eyes. Also, I couldn’t give her sharpened blades for her name day now, could I?

Arya had laughed at that, and she couldn’t have known that he had been planning to give her a new dagger the day he asked if she maybe wanted to find a heart tree because he hated treating this like it wasn’t permanent.

She says yes when he asks, immediately catching a stray tear falling from her eye and making him swear he’ll keep that for himself, and they don’t use cloaks because where would they even start making any, but she says it will be fine if he ties their hands together, and so he does, and when she says that even if they’re married now she’d rather stay in their small Riverlands now not so abandoned house for a while instead of telling everyone else he says of course, it’s not like he cares about where they are if she’s there with him.

He always thought that when she smiled, the few times she did, she looked way prettier than any proper lady could have in her best gown and corset. When she does it now, wide enough her teeth show, he knows it to be as true as it was the first time he did, and he tells her, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever quite get the way she looks at him when he tells her such things, as if she can’t conceive that someone would actually mean that. But then her mouth is on his and she seems very enthusiastic about their current decisions, and so he stops thinking about it.

He should tell her that to him, the idea of some lady even knowing his name was so absurd, not even songs contemplated it, one day, and instead she did -

But maybe he can tell her later.

They do have all the time in the world, after all.

#sansan #gendrya #jaime lannister #tyrion lannister #my fic #janie writes #do i even know??#also hi my attempts at writing gendrya keep on happening #otp: you would be my lady #otp: one day I will have a song from you #brotp: handless and noseless #arcana prompts fic #OKAY I DID THESE YOU'LL GET MORE THIS EVENING >_>#haljathefangirlcat #janie replies

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