#happy wyllas for a second

[flvvrpetals]

𝖒𝖎𝖉𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓 | solo flashback thread.

a look into when wyllas caron first knew he loved trystane allyrion. | takes place about fourteen years ago from present day.  ( @crvwnfought​ )

“ do not return until you are ready to be our son, wyllas.” 

 eyes watch from a crack in the door, little fingers peeping out to reveal their hiding spot. the man pauses in his departure, glancing towards where he knew the other girl stood. words rest uneasy in his mouth, aware he should say something. he does not. swallows down any parting peace he may have given his sister, gaze returning forward as he departs their childhood home. lightning strikes him down. 

two years later.

the dream startles the man awake, heart pounding against chest as if it was a drum. his eyes open to stare at the night sky above him, counting dotted stars till he is no longer fighting to breathe. wyllas would bet all he had that the constellations looked more beautiful in dorne than in nightsong. patterns that had no name to him before someone had taught him them. 

the man rolls to his side, gaze seeking out the shape of his companion across the campfire. relief fills his body as he confirms that his night terror did not stir them awake, not yet ready to confess why he never spoke of his family. why there was a small bundle of unsent letters in his bag tightly wrapped with string.

with no one awake to catch him, wyllas allows himself to drift off back to sleep, comforted by the rise and fall of the man’s chest. 

hours later. 

“ an ocean is an ocean, trystane, i do not truly think it matters where it begins.” 

 the words draw out a laugh from the taller man that reminds wyllas of two swords clashing against each other, mesmerizing. he hangs embarrassingly onto every word trystane says, listening to the man explain the legend of starfall as they ride. 

silence rests comfortably between them once trystane finishes speaking, smile on his lips. it is a struggle to not let his eyes linger on the other’s body, to not be caught staring at trystane. a piece of him whispers that the man already knows his thoughts. that the way he holds himself higher on his horse, shirt unbuttoned in the heat, is all a performance for the caron. much like how wyllas insisted nightly on building their fire, so that he may bask in the feel of trystane peering at him over his book. dark eyes warming his body far more than any flame ever could. 

they talk each night till trystane begins to yawn, politely bidding each other a good night. wyllas has to bite his tongue from asking him to share the bed roll each time. not daring enough to cross the divide between them, to give credence to his own desire, to claim trystane as his own. he wonders if there is disappointment in the man’s eyes when wyllas simply smiles and retires to his side of the fire, or if the light makes him see things. 

“ wyllas, do you see it? the summer sea.” 

words break through his day dreaming, coming to to see that trystane has briefly claimed the lead, glancing over his shoulder at wyllas with a look that knocks any air out of his lungs. it is a dangerous look. he forces himself to focus on the horizon in front of them, the light reflecting off the sea somehow feels less blinding than trystane’s smile. 

“ let’s race. “

wyllas does not wait for a response before he is pushing his horse to rush forward, passing trystane easily and heading straight for water in the distance. there is a sound of disgruntlement from behind him, but wyllas’ laugh drowns it out. the ride is not long enough to quell all the feelings that rest within him. soon enough he is dismounting inches away from the water, the sound of waves make the hooves behind him sound louder. 

trystane joins him, breathing heavily from the exertion. the water brushes their toes teasingly, wyllas far too focused on the summer sea in front of him to care about his boots getting wet. storm’s end could never compete with the ocean that lay before them. nothing in nightsong could ever compete with the way trystane’s hand finds his, fingers intertwining. 

“ i told you it was beautiful, did i not?”

their eyes meet, trystane smiles again, and wyllas is suddenly drowning on dry land. every feeling he has carefully pushed down during their trip is suffocating him now. they are clawing at his throat, begging for him to give them air. begging to bask in the sunlight that radiates from the man beside him. 

“ yes. it is. “ 

wyllas had spent nights fearful of claiming trystane as his, naively not realizing that it was not him claiming ownership. at some point, the other man had crept into every inch of his heart till it began to beat only for him. the caron realizes in this moment that he could cross a thousand seas, withstand armies entirely alone, just to experience the way trystane looks at him again. 

“ wyllas? “ 

“ you owe me a reward, trystane allyrion.”

“ do i?” 

a smirk of his lips. gorgeous brown eyes challenging wyllas. there are no shadows to misinterupt the way he looks at the shorter man.

words are not a sufficient answer, feet stepping forward so that he may pull the man into a kiss. wyllas surrenders himself to every feeling he has been containing, letting them spill out and into the gentle way he holds the other. 

the caron hands over a heart he had been protecting fiercely since the day he left nightsong, entrusting it to trystane allyrion. 

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

❛ every time your lips touch my skin, you burn me from the inside out. ❜ for Aemond and Wylla of Daemon and Sabitha? 👀🥰

anything for you

The world was still dark when she woke, the room still chilled even as spring was rapidly melting into what promised to be a hot summer; the air would be thick, sticky like honeyed wine, and smelling of the brine of the Blackwater. Stars blinked in and out of focus from the window beyond, and for a long moment Sabitha simply stared up at them, watching as the clouds lazily painted themselves in lighter shades of gray. They would turn pink soon, and then gold, and then finally white as the sun rose. 

It was time to get up, to face the day - the sneers and sidelong glances directed at both herself and the princess she now served, as if it was Rhaenyra who had named herself heir, who had commanded the lords of the realm to swear oaths to her. Sabitha blinked the burning behind her eyes away, the loneliness that chewed at her bones and sinews since Aemma had died. She missed her queen, her friend, her - 

She sat up straight as the door cracked, torchlight bleeding through before silver and black blocked it out, and the door closed once more.

“I thought you had forgotten about me,” Daemon drawled from the shadows, and she collapsed back amongst the pillows.

“I apologize for placing priority on my duties, my prince, but alas, we can’t all gallivant as we please.” There was no heat to words, no bite, only a sad truth, her reality. The bed dipped and still she did not look at him, sick with the longing she felt - for him, for freedom, for any life but the one she lived. But his body was weighing hers down now as he rested on his elbow to loom over her, his thumb and finger finding her chin to tilt her face toward his. 

He was smiling, his hair so pale in the light of the moon that fought to keep its hold over the sky. “The only gallivanting I’ve done, my Lady Blackwood, has been with you. Or are you so keen to forget?”

She was not keen to forget; she refused to forget a single second she had spent with him, even stretching back to before they’d acknowledged one another. The first time she had seen Daemon Targaryen, he had not even known she’d existed. She was new to King’s Landing and her position within it, a slight thing of seventeen years, wed only a year to the husband that refused to stay in court for longer than a handful of weeks, ‘only long enough to get you pregnant,’ Theodred would remind her. Daemon had prowled into the throne room that day as if he’d owned it, and his brother had embraced him, welcoming him back from whatever adventure he’d been on. Had anyone else noticed the way Viserys’ eyes hardened as he held his brother? Had anyone cared?

He kissed her, pulling her back to the present, to the warm cage of his arms, and she let him. Let him drag his lips over her jaw and throat to the hollow of her collarbone not covered by her nightgown. 

“You’re the only reason I stay,” he murmured against her skin. She did not correct him, did not remind him how he hated the Vale, how he resented the wife he had there, how the circumstances that sent him to that rugged landscape had stripped the last vestiges of innocence from him. A fear resided in her, in that space between her ribs and heart, that if he looked too closely at their relationship he would no longer see the joy in it, the happiness; that if he saw her for the scared, sad girl that she was, he would wander, taking his attention and affection elsewhere. She knew about Mysaria, had her suspicions that Rhaenyra had turned her eyes toward her uncle, and though it ate at her, she did not complain. 

Sabitha complained about nothing these days, holding ever more tightly to the scraps of comfort she managed to find now that Aemma was gone. 

She tangled her fingers in his hair, felt the silken strands against her skin, and tugged in that way she’d learned he liked; just enough pain to get his attention, to set his blood to blaze. “I’m glad I prove a worthy enough distraction for you, my prince.”

He growled playfully at her use of the title, the hand that held her chin dropping, skating over her chest and ribs to clutch at her shift, to drag it slowly up her thigh. “The worthiest of distractions. You drive me to madness.” There was something in the way he said it, something heavy, something she felt on his tongue as he laved it across her clavicle that gave a glimpse into the depth of his feeling for her. She could not afford to say it and Daemon would never flay himself open in that way, not yet, not when she belonged to another man in the ways that counted. So she spared him, pulling at his hair until his lifted his head, and kissed him silent. “Every time your lips touch my skin, you burn me from the inside out.”

Laughing, she tugged at the soft linen of his undershirt until his chest and arms were bared to her, pressing kisses to his fair skin. “I burn you? How can that be? I am of the rivers,” she said, nipping hard at his shoulder. He stretched out over her, hitching her knee over his hip, as if they had all the time in the world for lovemaking, as if kings and husbands and prying eyes didn't lurk behind each corner. 

‘How lucky Lady Rhea is that she is far from the Red Keep,’ she thought. How Sabitha wished to take Daemon far from here herself, to disappear into the mists of the Riverlands, the bitter cold and snow of the North, or the billowing smoke of Dragonstone. They could be wild there, they could be free. 

“The rivers and that damnable Vale air,” he answered, mouthing at her linen covered breast. “Ancient blood in your veins and your old gods. You live to inflame me,” he groaned, angling his hips against hers in invitation, his voice lost against her skin.

Once more she laughed, tipping her head back, not realizing she had bared her throat until he was sucking what promised to be a dark bruise against her skin. “Is that what you truly believe I live for?” It wasn’t a serious question, and he didn’t hold any answers for her that she didn’t already know herself. Her hands found his neck, thumbs pressing into his pulse points.

Daemon grinned and she swore she saw a hint of fang in his smile. “Perhaps it is what I live for then. To inflame you.” 

“What power I must hold, to have ensnared a dragon so.”

[atopvisenyashill]

thinking about this aegon tries to marry badly to avoid the dance au

he marries ynys sand, base born daughter of prince olyvar nymeros martell and lady gwenys wyl. raised by her mother in wyl. ynys is a warrior, she reveres wylla of wyl, and she’s a few years older than aegon (which he feels is the perfect touch to her unsuitableness).

qoren is Not In On It but he knows about it. this is an even more detached version of the vulture king’s war and he makes it clear that if they get caught doing something shady He Will Not Help.

helaena is in on this plan the entire time, and they figure it’s likely she and aemond are going to be married to each other immediately after they pull this goofy ass stunt, but aegon figures they’re better suited, and plus he has helaena to help him manage aemond’s temper.

i was trying to think of how he’d realistically get away from home long enough to get hitched, and i know he has a dragon, but that’s not exactly subtle is it, so i would think he needs a Kingsguard on his side so he can be like “oh yeah i’m going flying, he’s gonna meet me at this castle” and then just lie about what castle they’re heading to. this is how arryk cargyll becomes aegon’s personal guard & develops several ulcers.

viserys is initially PISSED because he’s having flashbacks to daemon running off with mysaria, rhaenyra is PERPLEXED by this move, otto insists helaena and aemond are married to each other immediately to curb any ~rebelliousness~ and no one can get Aegon out of the marriage because ynys has a letter signed by all the dornish marcher lords and qoren that they witnessed the bedding and arryk says they shared a bed on the road too. viserys is two seconds away from pulling another "i'm going to put a heavily pregnant woman on a ship to see if she miscarries and then start getting banishment happy" but Rhaenyra and Daemon convince him this is a good thing because it'll distract from The Rhaenyra Had Brown Haired Babies Of It All

aegon's first child by ynys HAS to be valyrian looking just to keep everyone on their toes. to make sure he's being INCREDIBLY unfit for the throne, aegon tells ynys she can name the kids whatever she wants - the less valyrian sounding the name, the better. so their first child has their father's silver hair and purple eyes, but their mother's slightly darker skin tone, and is named nymeria/nymeros targaryen.

POINT ONE: “acceptable bastards” have noble blood on both sides and i don’t think aegon could marry lower than that without otto being able to press her into the faith or just like, off her if it comes to it, before anyone can hear about the marriage. and anyone lower than that might not have the resources to defend themselves from behavior like that, and she would need to.

i remembered wylla of wyl being a warrior maid, and i thought it would be nice if she revered wylla, so one of her parents could from wyl, which works with the dornish marches background perfectly. i went through a couple scenarios and looked at some other noble born bastards that rise high and most of them had at least one parent from a great house, so that means one parent is a martell. i thought it would be simplest if she just grew up in wyl.

POINT TWO: that also puts some distance between her and qoren, and since qoren explicitly doesn’t want to get involved with dragon nonsense, i think there needs to be some distance between them for him to go “fine go marry a targaryen but keep whatever this is confined and lowkey because i will not back you up in public.”

also, since i put all that work into my dornish timeline, i just worked something out from there! qoren is around rhaenyra’s age, so not old enough to have a bastard old enough for aegon to marry. that means ynys sand has to be his half sister. i decided gwenys was a widow who never had any kids, had a hot and heavy affair with the married olyvar nymeros martell, and they decided she should just keep the baby at wyl. (she got remarried when ynys was around 4 and had a true born girl a year after, and they’re close they’re just like, Different. ynys got all of gwenys’ go get ‘em attitude).

POINT THREE: helaena being a dreamer is too precious to me, i think it’s great and hilarious if viserys was a dreamer and then had not one but TWO kids who were also dreamers but never noticed because he ignored them so much. i desire that shitty dad carnally. anyways. i think it’s logical to assume that if aegon pulls a stunt like this, everyone is going to start insisting helaena and aemond are married right now so that a) neither of them can also do some crazy shit like this and b) they can start having proper valyrian babies to counteract Aegon trying to plug up the family tree. I’m not saying anyone is factoring Aegon out of the family tree but I do think some people are going to go “well let’s get some back ups in motion in case Aegon decides to get crazy again.” I think Helaena would be fine with this idea; she has grown up probably assuming she was going to marry a brother anyway and they’re only a year apart.

(i came up with an excuse to age them up closer to show ages that i thought could be semi plausible which is just aegon trying to put off getting married by asking if they can wait until helaena comes of age, and since helaena thinks this is fine, and aegon pulls the “well rhaenyra got to wait” card, viserys just shrugs and agrees while alicent is sitting there like “is something happening right now. are my children conspiring.” so in my mind by the time they enact this plan, aegon is around 19, helaena is around 16, and aemond is about 15. also ynys would be like 26. hot, i love a woman getting married over the age of 13.

this could work without the pause though - i can just shrink the gap by making ynes 18 or 19. helaena is the age she was when she married aegon in canon (13), and aemond is 12, which means they’d likely wait a year before marrying him to helaena at least. um. it’s not fun but it has been done in this series before, with aemond’s daddy to boot).

POINT FOUR: firstly, every fanfic i’ve read where aegon has some sort of dragon dream has him sour on criston. idk if this is bc the writer dislikes him or because it makes sense aegon would distrust him (as in, sees him as power grabbing on the level of otto and daemon) BUT i do think if he’s keeping this from his mother he’s not gonna tell criston. i thought arryk was a good choice because i imagine aegon (esp show aegon) would appreciate someone so loyal they would be willing to go out in a double murder with their twin brother, over the other two green kingsguard who are Fine but probably watching maelor get ripped to death in a dragon dream turned aegon off a bit.

POINT FIVE: Listen, Viserys hates an argument so if people are being calm and going "look at me, i'm not arguing i'm perfectly rational" he's more likely to listen. see: eventually sending money to daemon in the stepstones. he also does Not care about what aegon does that much, so long as he's a proper dragon rider and Stays Out Of The Way. so if aegon is otherwise behaving, and helaena's feelings aren't hurt, and aemond is happy to marry helaena, and rhaenyra and daemon are both like "this is fine actually" and otto gives up and decides to focus on getting aemond married to helaena while he figures out how to deal with this, viserys will probably chill out and go "well they were married in sight of gods and men, nothing to do about it"

POINT SIX: Saera just saying Maegor's name was enough to make Jaehaerys throw a fit, and Aerion invoking it is part of why they pass his son up in favor of Egg, so I can see Aegon trying to go for some wild names. I also think he'd get Helaena into this, ask her to convince Aemond to name their first born Saera, Viserra, or Maegor. I don't know if Aemond would go for that? He's certainly insane enough but he's a momma's boy and Alicent might talk him out of it.

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

Say Robert and Cersei by some miracle had a successful marriage, viserys and daenerys live happy live in essos and the others just mind their business who do you think the starklings would've been betrothed to

Robb - Alys Karstark I don't think the starks can get away with having two Southern ladies of winterfell in a row during peace time at this point so a northern lady is likely and alys is the same age, karstarks are quite powerful

Sansa- If this timeline Joffrey is nicer then him otherwise maybe Willas

Arya - It sounds but maybe jojen, ned and howland are friends and jojen would be accepting of arya being "unladylike" since her and meera are quite similar

Bran - I think ned would've convinced bran out of joining the KG to further expand the house through possibly giving him moat cailin to rebuid but he still would've allowed him to be a knight and given the manderlys follow the seven, i think wylla manderly is a good option, maybe shireen if stannis was convinced to have bran as a squire and bran proved himself worthy of her

Rickon - I think he still would've had a wild side even without his circumstances so maybe a girl from the northern mountain clans or skagos

Hello! It's an interesting topic and I'm glad you also shared your view so we can have a conversation speculating about it :)

Robb: Alys Karstark is on the same age with him, Karstarks are loyal to Starks ( and kin!) and it seems that her own father would like to see his daughter being engaged to the future Walden of the North. Actually, every noble Northerner would like their daughter to become future Lady of Winterfell and it's understandable. With that being said, I think the best choice for Robb would be to marry a Manderly girl as they control North's biggest harbour and they are a very rich House.

Sansa: Ned never showed interest for an alliance alliance with the South and neither did the former Stark generations ( with the exception of the previous generation but considering how Ned's siblings ended up, I doubt he's eager to send any of his children to the South). The Tyrells also never showed interest in allying themselves with the North before Robb was declared KITN and was involved in the war of 5 kings. So, I don't see a wedding between Sansa and a southern lord.

I guess marrying Joffrey Baratheon would be an exception Ned would have to make because you can't simply decline a royal offer (as it happened in canon). The only other southern exception would be Robert Arryn. The boy not only is kin but also the son of Ned's beloved mentor. I think he would trust Jon and Lysa Arryn to keep his daughter safe than he would trust Robert and Cersei (understandable). The more I think about it, the ideal scenario for Sansa who wanted to live the southern fairy tale would be to go to Vale ( which coincidentally is the place she currently is in canon)

Bran: I'm moving to Bran instead of Arya because I can see him being connected to Sansa's future. First of all, I don't think that Ned would deny Bran to become a knight. He might not be fond of the idea but he would allow him to do it as he planned to do in canon. Again, he wouldn't like for his son to go to Kings Landing. The only exception would be if Sansa was betrothed to Joffrey. In that case, maybe he could consider to let his son go to the capital so his sister won't be all alone and visa versa ( the lone wolf dies but the pack survives). Now, in my favoured scenario where Sansa goes to Vale, Bran could also go with her and be Brynden Tully's squire. I think Ned would trust the Blackfish the most to train his son and his friend Jon Arryn to keep an eye on the boy.

As for marriage, any northern lady could potentially become Bran's wife. Maybe even Alys Karstark, as I see it more likely Ned to choose her for the wife of his second son. But I want to say Meera Reed ( because of Bran's canon crush).

Arya: Any northern noble could potentially become Arya's husband and ofc someone who could inherit a castle would be preferred. Just to name a few candidates: Harrion Karstark, Daryn Hornwood ( if he wasn't already engaged to Alys Karstark like in canon), Smalljon Umber, Benfred Tallhart and Cley Cerwyn.

Rickon: I doubt that Rickon would be half as wild if he was raised with his whole family by his side. Once again, he could marry any noble girl. Maybe a girl who is the sole heir to her family so they can live on her castle. Otherwise, Ned would have to provide a place to live for his youngest son.

[vivacissimx]

Hello! I was wondering if you ever thought about baby Jon? More specifically him on the trip from Dorne to Winterfell. I have three headcanons about it. First is that he was a very happy babe who laughed a lot and looked joyful (unlike him as a teenager) but as he grew in Winterfell he became melancholy. While traveling whenever he would laugh his travelling companians (Ned, Howland and I think Wylla) would look at him smiling bittersweet.

Second he was a quiet child who would rarely cry or laugh when someone was playing with him. This made his travelling companians (especially Ned) worried. He would always look curiously at the person holding him.

Third, when Lyanna died there was complete silence for 10 seconds when it was broken by a wail of a babe. Wylla rushed to him trying to calm him down but he was not hungry nor in need of a change. He looked sad for a babe, almost melancholy when he was not crying. Wylla mentioned that sometimes babes can feel loss even if they can't understand it, he must have sensed the death of his mother. That made Ned and Howland sad. So yeah he cried a lot during his journey from Dorne to Winterfell. But he cried less as he reached Winterfell (mostly because it took months to travel and he started forgetting his mother)

(Robb and Jon use to hold hands a lot as babes and toddlers but grew out of it as they grew older, I doubt they even remember it)

What do you think of these? I am sorry for sending it here as I have no one to share it with. I hope it's okay 😅.

Have a lovely day!

interesting! i've never thought much of baby jon tbh but i am vibing with the idea of him as a very quiet infant (born in grief in a sense of doom as they say), and this being a thing ned is both pained and drawn in by. ned has a very internal voice & the idea that jon slotted perfectly into ned's somber reflective attitude such that treating him like a son came naturally... yes i enjoy that. i don't believe ned was around babies all that much prior so jon would have a special baby-shaped place in ned's heart, wouldn't he?

love the inclusion of wylla, in general just loving wylla, like what is up with her? hope she's doing well <3

robb & jon being the sun and the moon as babies but fast brothers is lovely as well. i do wonder if there was a time when jon was confused if catelyn wasn't his mother as well, but let me stop before i hurt myself.

[dragonmartellstark]

Rhaenys Targaryen: She was Lady of Winterfell when she married Lord Rodwell Stark with whom she had three children: Brendon, Branda and Breton.

The princess was considered a woman not as splendid as hers by other relatives of hers, but it is known that she was cunning, pleasant, intelligent and did not forgive disrespect. It is known that she was always very at odds with Wylla Fenn, the lover of her father-in-law, Brandon Stark, and with her sister-in-law, Aregelle Stark.

It is said that one day Wylla Fenn compared the princess to a snake - "she has a mouth so big that the dicks of four men would go in there." Hearing this, Rhaenys spread the rumor that Wylla wanted to sleep with her brother-in-law, Beron and that she even had incestuous relationships without consent with her own son, Lonnel Snow. In the end Wylla Fenn was called "The Whore Serpent" and was disowned in Winterfell.

In 184 a. C., Rodwell Stark passed away of smallpox and the son of this, Brendon was the following Lord of Invernalia and the wife of this, Marla Cerwyn, the daughter of Aregelle Stark. Despite the hatred she felt towards Aregelle, Rhaenys loved her daughter-in-law very much and helped her position herself in the northern court so that she would not be in danger if her husband took ambitious lovers.

Rhaenys Targaryen died in 195 at the age of 60 from exhaustion and was buried in the crypts of Winterfell where years later her daughter-in-law, Marla Cerwyn, would be buried.

Sons:

-Lord Brendon Stark was Lord of Winterfell and was known as the "Powerless" because it was said that he could not consummate the bed with his wife, in addition to not being interested in having lovers and it was even said that he was homosexual . He passed away at the age of 41 and was succeeded by his brother, Breton Stark.

-Lady Branda Stark remained single, but she had an intense affair with her father's bastard brother, Lonnel Snow, with whom she is said to have married. Their relationship was a scandal and especially when they both had twins, Brandon and Ronnel Snow. Branda reportedly passed away at age 45 from tuberculosis.

-Lord Breton Stark was Lord of Winterfell upon the death of his brother, Brendon without issue. He married Alysanne Stark and they had seven children together ensuring the Stark offspring.

Aerion I Targaryen: He was king of the Seven Kingdoms for at least thirteen years and was known to be the father of the second queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Rhaenyra II Targaryen.

He was considered handsome and flirtatious, being very different from his older sister, Rhaenys who had more Stark features than Targaryen. He was highly sought after and it was thought of marrying him to Jeyne Arryn or Tyshara Lannister, but he himself would end up discarding them because of Lady Arryn's advanced age and Tyshara because of her love scandals. Her cousin, Viserra Velaryon, wanted him to marry her so she could become queen, but Aerion was not interested in her cousin at all. In the end Aerion opted for his youngest cousin, Jaena Velaryon who had a sweeter and more sympathetic character, something that made Viserra very angry since she considered herself more beautiful than her younger sister.

Aerion and Jaena married being a happy marriage since Jaena was a flirtatious, sweet wife who made her in love husband laugh. The couple began to share the bed and had five children, but their two sons, Valerion and Aegon died in infancy, leaving only their daughters Rhaenyra, Sara and Vaella to survive. The inheritance problem distanced the couple a bit, even the young prince had an affair with Lady Floris Baratheon who gave him an illegitimate son, Aerion Mares. This event was painful for Jaena who separated from her husband for a time and the now king, Jacaerys I Velaryon warned her son that the baby would never be her successor and that her daughter, Rhaenyra was the real princess.

The couple reconciled after a year apart and were together again.

During the reign of his father, his cousin, Aenar Targaryen who was the son of Aegon "the youngest" claimed the Iron throne for him, assuring that his uncle and his descendants were bastards who usurped the throne. of his late father. Aerion played an important role as the book a battle at Harrenhal without dragons ensuring victory for his father. In the end Jacaerys I assured his nephew that he could be King if he married his granddaughter, Rhaenyra who was second in line of succession and Aenar accepted.

In 179 a. C., his parents died of smallpox and Aerion became Aerion I Targaryen being his daughter, Rhaenyra princess of Dragonstone. Aerion's reign was peaceful despite the numerous tensions he had with his cousin Aenar, whom he distrusted greatly and threatened to be respectful to his daughter.

In 191 a. C., the king fell seriously ill with tuberculosis and was cared for by his wife and his daughters Sara and Vaella, but his condition did not improve and he just died that same year at 54 years of age.

Jaena would keep an eternal mourning for him and died eight years later at the age of 60 due to lack of food.

Aerion was succeeded by her daughter, Rhaenyra as Rhaenyra II and her husband was crowned Aenar I Targaryen, her reign being called "The Age of the Dragon" for the large number of dragons that were procreated.

Sons:

-Rhaenyra II Targaryen was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms after the death of her father and was considered a loyal, cultured and pacifist queen. She married her uncle, Aenar, her being crowned as Aenar I and with whom she had ten children in common, in addition to being an intense marriage full of pleasure. She passed away at 55 years of age from puerperal fever.

-Valerion Targaryen passed away before he was 5 years old.

-Sara Targaryen was Princess of Dragonstone by marrying her nephew, Aegon Targaryen and with whom she had four children. Her husband passed away before he was King and he was replaced by her son, Daeron Targaryen. She passed away at the age of 62 from a heart attack.

-Aegon Targaryen passed away two days after being born.

-Vaella Targaryen remained single and became old, being she more the nurse of her family. She passed away at 83 years of age from respiratory attacks.

Rhaenys Targaryen: Fue Señora de Invernalia al casarse con Lord Rodwell Stark con el cual tuvo tres hijos: Brendon, Branda y Breton.

La princesa fue considerada una mujer no tan esplendorosa como sus otros familiares, pero se sabe que ella era astuta, agradable, inteligente y no perdonaba faltas de respeto. Se sabe que siempre estuvo muy enemistada con Wylla Fenn, la amante de su suegro, Brandon Stark y con su cuñada, Aregelle Stark.

Se dice que un día Wylla Fenn comparo a la princesa con una serpiente- “tiene una boca tan grande que la verga de cuatro hombres entrarían ahí”. Al escuchar esto, Rhaenys hizo que se esparciera el rumor que Wylla quiso acostarse con su cuñado, Beron y que incluso mantenía relaciones incestuosas sin consentimiento con su propio hijo, Lonnel Snow. Al final Wylla Fenn fue llamada “La puta serpiente” y siendo repudiada en Invernalia.

En 184 d. C., falleció Rodwell Stark de viruela y el hijo de este, Brendon fue el siguiente Señor de Invernalia y la esposa de este, Marla Cerwyn, la hija de Aregelle Stark. Pesé al odio que sentía hacia Aregelle, Rhaenys quiso mucho a su nuera y le ayudo a posicionarse en la corte norteña para que no se viese en peligro si su esposo tomaba amantes ambiciosas.

Rhaenys Targaryen falleció en 195 a los 60 años de edad por agotamiento y fue enterrada en las criptas de Invernalia donde años mas tarde sería enterrada su nuera, Marla Cerwyn.

Hijos: 

-Lord Brendon Stark fue Señor de Invernalia y fue conocido como el “Impotente” debido a que se decía que no podía consumar el lecho con su esposa, además de no estar interesado en tener amantes e incluso se decía que era homosexual. Falleció a los 41 años de edad y fue sucedido por su hermano, Breton Stark. 

-Lady Branda Stark permaneció soltera, pero tuvo un intenso romance con el hermano bastardo de su padre, Lonnel Snow con el cual se dice que se llego a casar. Su relación fue todo un escandalo y sobre todo cuando ambos tuvieron mellizos, Brandon y Ronnel Nieve. Branda falleció supuestamente a los 45 años de tuberculosis.

-Lord Breton Stark fue Señor de Invernalia a la muerte de su hermano, Brendon sin descendencia. Se caso con Alysanne Stark y tuvieron siete hijos en común asegurando la descendencia Stark.

Aerion I Targaryen: Fue rey de los Siete Reinos por al menos trece años y fue conocido por ser padre de la segunda reina de los Siete Reinos, Rhaenyra II Targaryen.

Era considerado guapo y coqueto siendo muy diferente a su hermana mayor, Rhaenys la cual tenia mas rasgos Stark que Targaryen. Fue muy pretendido y se pensó en casarlo con Jeyne Arryn o Tyshara Lannister, pero el mismo acabaría descartandolas por la edad avanzada de Lady Arryn y a Tyshara por sus escándalos amorosos. Su prima, Viserra Velaryon busco que el se casara con ella para así poder llegar a ser reina, pero Aerion no le interesaba para nada su prima. Al final Aerion se decanto por su prima mas joven, Jaena Velaryon la cual tenia un carácter mas dulce y simpático, algo que hizo enfadar mucho a Viserra ya que se consideraba mas hermosa que su hermana menor.

Aerion y Jaena se casaron siendo un matrimonio feliz ya que Jaena era una esposa coqueta, dulce y que hacia reír a su enamorado marido. La pareja empezó a compartir el lecho y llegaron a tener cinco hijos, pero sus dos hijos varones, Valerion y Aegon fallecieron en la infancia dejando solo a sus hijas Rhaenyra, Sara y Vaella sobrevivirían. El problema sucesorio distancio un poco a la pareja incluso el joven príncipe tuvo un romance con Lady Floris Baratheon la cual le dio un hijo ilegitimo, Aerion Mares. Este suceso fue doloroso para Jaena que se aparto de su marido por un tiempo y el ahora rey, Jacaerys I Velaryon le advirtió a su hijo que el bebé jamás sería su sucesor y que su hija, Rhaenyra era la verdadera princesa.

La pareja se reconcilió después de un año distanciados y volvieron a estar unidos.

Durante el reinado de su padre, su primo, Aenar Targaryen que era el hijo de Aegon “el menor” reclamo el trono de Hierro para el, asegurando que su tío y sus descendientes eran unos bastardos que usurparon el trono de su fallecido padre. Aerion tuvo un papel importante ya que el libro una batalla en Harrenhal sin dragones asegurando la victoria para su padre. Al final Jacaerys I le aseguro a su sobrino que podría ser Rey si se casaba con su nieta, Rhaenyra que era la segunda en la linea de sucesión y Aenar acepto.

En 179 d. C., fallecieron sus padres de viruela y Aerion se convirtió en Aerion I Targaryen siendo su hija, Rhaenyra princesa de Rocadragón. El reinado de Aerion fue pacifico pese a las numerosas tensiones que tuvo con su primo Aenar del cual desconfiaba mucho y le amenazo con ser respetuoso con su hija.

En 191 d. C., el rey callo gravemente enfermo de tuberculosis y fue cuidado por su esposa e hijas Sara y Vaella, pero su estado no mejoro y acabo falleciendo ese mismo año a los 54 años de edad. Jaena le guardaría un eterno luto y falleció ocho años después a los 60 años de edad por la falta de alimentos.

Aerion fue sucedido por su hija, Rhaenyra como Rhaenyra II y el esposo de esta fue coronado como Aenar I Targaryen siendo su reinado llamado “La edad del Dragón” por la gran cantidad de dragones que fueron procreados.

Hijos:

Rhaenyra II Targaryen fue Reina de los Siete Reinos tras la muerte de su padre y fue considerada una reina leal, culta y pacifista. Se caso con su tío Aenar siendo el coronado como Aenar I y con el cual tuvo diez hijos en común, además de ser un matrimonio intenso lleno de placer. Falleció a los 55 años de edad de fiebres puerperales.

Valerion Targaryen falleció antes de cumplir 5 años de edad.

Sara Targaryen fue Princesa de Rocadragón al casarse con su sobrino, Aegon Targaryen y con el cual tuvo cuatro hijos. Su marido falleció antes de ser Rey y fue reemplazado por su hijo, Daeron Targaryen. Falleció a los 62 años de edad de un ataque al corazón.

Aegon Targaryen falleció dos días después de nacer.

Vaella Targaryen permaneció soltera y llego a anciana, siendo mas la enfermera de su familia. Falleció a los 83 años de edad de ataques respiratorios.

[daceytheshebear]

Like many readers of A Song of Ice and Fire before me (but not nearly enough), I feel somewhat disturbed by how GRRM deals with childbirth. While I love the books and the complex, nuanced female POV characters the author brings forth, I have do have criticism regarding how women in general are treated in the story, way way to often as mere plot devices. GRRM's use of "death by childbirth" as a gendered way to kill off characters strikes me as particularly problematic, but the way labour and birthing are actually portrayed is also not without issues.

In the realm of asoiaf fanfiction most (but not all, naturally) of what I've read depicting childbirth feels like it's told either from a perspective that is very medicalized and doctor-centric (is that a thing?) or by someone who has learned about it mostly through other forms of fiction. I'm usually bothered with the amount of agency attributed to the woman labouring (too little, imnsho) or with scenarios that speak to an overall lack of knowledge about the physiology of birth.

So I thought I'd try my hand at it. It felt like a really really daunting task, but I really really wanted to see what I could come up with, if I'd be able to write something that felt truthful and gritty, but also delicate and respectful of the experience of giving birth. I chose an outsider point of view for the narrative voice, so we get Arya giving birth through a Gendry POV.

I am very passionate about this subject, and I loved each minute I spent with the text, written hastly in the middle of the night. Once I started writing, it simply flowed.

This is an excerpt:

"It make no matter what you isn't, son. You is the father. A good one, I dare hope. You let her lean on you now." Arya was panting between his legs, still on her knees. Trembling and pale though she was, she was strong. The strongest person I’ve ever known. Naturally she found her might again. She set a foot on the floor in front of her, so she was kneeling on one leg, and then held on to Gendry’s knees behind her to raise herself to a squatting position. Wylla had to be truly happy with what unfolded in front of her; there was a fond smile on her face, so broad Gendry could see the gap where she had lost a tooth.

“Tis perfect, dear. You doing so well! You is fierce. Let us see that babe, m’dear. The babe know the way. You may let come.” Wylla crouched in front of them. “You doing so well dear. You is. I know the hurt. It’ll pass, promise. I can see the head. You wanna feel the head?”

Gendry couldn’t see her face, but he could feel Arya’s smile. That’s why she didn’t want the maester around. This last turn of moon, Sims had been rattling on and on about draughts for the pain, and the necessity of lying still all through labour so not to waste the strength she’d need when came time to push. Bloody idiot.

This fic was inspired by the second prompt of @aryaxgendryweek 2020, "I got your back".

If you're interested and wanna read more, this is the link to it on ao3.

If you're interested in the discussion about women in asoiaf, the dead ladies club by @joannalannister a great place to start.

[siren-scng]

Task 03: Family

Lyra is the youngest of seven children in her family. Her parents, Wylla & Arron, are leaders of the colony, committed to the protection and care of their people above all else. Because children in Lyra’s colony are raised communally, she and her siblings spent more time with those who minded the children than with their parents when they were young, although as they got older, they spent more time learning from their parents. As Lyra was so young when she was exiled, she had the least time to get to know them.

Her parents are not formally married as humans understand it, but they have been in a committed relationship for almost a century. It should be noted that ‘di Rossi’ is not their surname, since Lyra’s colony doesn’t use surnames. Lyra chose it to blend in with humans when she joined the crew, and it literally means ‘red-headed.’ It’s safe to say that while some of her family members would be happy that she’s still alive, none of them would be very impressed that she’s now living among humans.

Wylla: Lyra’s mother is in charge of the defense of the Jewel their colony guards. She is a ferocious warrior, specializing in underwater combat with a trident, and none in the colony can best her in a fight. The most interaction Lyra had with her when she was young was in combat, where she felt like she could never impress her warrior mother, no matter how hard she tried. The decision to exile Lyra was ultimately her mother’s decision.

Arron: Lyra’s father is also a fearsome warrior, but his skills were geared more towards hunting. He led their hunters to bring down large prey (and occasionally to hunt down humans who ventured too near their colony) like sharks, whales, and large fish. He uses a spear to take down his prey and enemies alike. He taught Lyra how to hunt and how to use a knife. When Lyra was on trial, he convinced her mother to show leniency, and exile her instead of putting her to death.

Arroyo: The eldest child in Lyra’s family, Lyra spent more time when she was younger with him than with either of their parents. He followed in their father’s wake, becoming a hunter to provide the colony with food, but he is also regarded as one of the strongest mers in the colony. He used to tell Lyra many stories when she was young, mostly stories of his own adventures and exploits (often embellished), but she loved to hear all the tales he’d tell.

Ayden: The second oldest child, Ayden was closest in age to Arroyo & Quay and never really had patience for spending time with the younger children in the family. He’s impatient and crass, and always had more important things to do than look after merlings, so he and Lyra never spent much time together. He became a protector of the jewel like their mother, and is very serious about his duty.

Quay: The third-born child in the family, Quay always struggled to escape the shadows of his older brothers. Arroyo was a talented hunter, and Ayden was a warrior, and Quay never felt like he measured up to either of them, despite trying. But he was gifted musically, with a powerful siren song able to draw humans away from their colony’s territories. When Lyra started to show musical skill, he was the one who taught her to sing, and they spent a lot of time together as he taught her the songs of their people.

Emiyn: Born many years after Quay, there was a definite divide between the older and younger siblings in the family, but since Emiyn and Erwyn are twins, they always had one another. As the first daughter born in the family, Wylla took a special interest in her, and trained her to follow in her wake. She is not as talented as Wylla yet, but she shows great promise for her age, and in time, she may take over for her mother. She and Ayden often butt heads, since he thinks he ought to succeed their mother, and thinks it’s unfair that she should succeed simply because she’s a mermaid. Emiyn is very judgmental about her younger siblings’ choices, and always thought Lyra should have taken their parents’ training more seriously when she was younger.

Erwyn: Emiyn’s twin, he’s always had his sister’s back, but he doesn’t have the same aptitude for combat as she does. Or hunting, or music, or... anything useful, really. Erwyn is a feckless youth who enjoys doing as he pleases, when he pleases, no matter how much their parents may scold him for not contributing. He’s all about having a good time, and he doesn’t really understand why they need to protect the jewel. He’s very curious about humans, but at the time Lyra was exiled, his family had managed to keep him away from any contact with them.

Syndi: Syndi is only a few years older than Lyra, and is unquestionably the sweetest member of the family. Everyone loves her, even Ayden, even though she has no interest in combat or hunting. She loves children, and as she’s gotten older, she’s worked as a child-minder, spending her days taking care of the youngest mers in the colony. Despite her family’s predisposition for violence, they all acknowledge that this is one of the most important tasks in the colony, and everyone respects Syndi’s choice --except maybe Emiyn, who still tries to pick fights with her. She and Lyra have always been the closest of friends, partly because of their ages, and Syndi pleaded with their mother not to send Lyra away when she broke the law.

[empressaryastark]

Draft for "Chef's Kiss"

Chapter 1: Meetings

"There you go! All you have to do know is create a screen name and, well, you know the rest," Wylla said as she returned Arya's cell phone.

Arya looked down at her phone to see the anonymous dating app appear on the screen. After months of tireless working through countless renovations, Wylla, her business parter, thought it was high time that Arya actually had a life outside of their restaurant. Arya, on the other hand, groaned at the thought of another dating app. The last thing she needed was another slew of messages from guys only interested in hook ups or nudes. Men who only saw her picture and made a judgement about whether she was worth the effort.

"The Raven app is so different," Wylla said as they sat in their newly painted kitchens. The restaurant was on the eve of reopening after a fire so they celebrated with wine bottles and a box of doughnuts from the disgustingly hipster Americana, but admittedly delicious, Hot Pie's American Bakery down the street.

Arya rolled her eyes as she sipped from her wine glass. "How different can it be from any other lame dating app?"

Wylla sighed with the expected amount of drama. "My god! Can you just create a screen name already? You'll see. This app is special because you connect based on interests and age range, but there's no photos, no specifics like careers or names, unless users choose to give that information."

Arya raised her eyebrows. "So it's mostly just chatting?"

"Exactly!"

Though Arya felt skeptical, she had been rather lonely in the past year. It's not that she didn't have a wealth of friends or family. Those she had no lack of. However, she'd been single for nearly two years since she broke it up with her ex, Daenerys. Since then, Arya had focused on work. And with the kitchen fire that nearly took over her family's White Harbor landmark sea restaurant, The Nymeria, it only made even more sense for Arya to devote her time renovating the place. Though her parents may have wanted to sell the place after the fire, Arya insisted that she and her best friend, Wylla, could keep the tradition alive. Other restaurants along the harbor would come and go, but The Nymeria was a city institution.

So, Arya relented. Wylla hooted after Arya broke down to her friend's wishes and said, "Fine. I'll make one. I think my screen name will be, um, 'titansdaughter95.'"

"You're gonna get dates in no time," Wylla said as Arya continued to fill out her profile with the information necessary to pair her up with other chatters.

What were Arya's interests? She mused on that very question. Arya Stark enjoyed cooking, sports, theater and films, cats and dogs (as backed up by the pets in her townhouse), fencing, sailing, hiking, and weaponry. Arya figured that list would be enough to sort her out with some chatters. In time.

-----

As The Nymeria finally reopened for business, Arya totally forgot the Raven app. She didn't even bother to see if there were any notifications. Indeed, she was far too busy. Wylla Manderly, the beautiful green-haired influencer and former publicist, was able to gather a great deal of buzz over the restaurant's return to the wharf. In the brief moments Arya was able to spare from the kitchen, she would check up on social media to see if the city shared her excitement for the return of the The Nymeria. Of course, Arya felt elated when The White Harbor Gate published a glowing article on the restaurant's grand reopening on Instagram. All the replies and comments to the article shared the same enthusiasm. Except for one. From a user with the handle of 'willow.h'.

Willow.H: Yawn. How come the only restaurants ever highlighted are these boring standard places owned by the same rich Northern families? You know, there are other chefs and places to eat! Steel and Fire is opening their second location on the Wharf this week too! But I haven't seen one single article about it on this page! The bias is pretty gross if you ask me :/

The comment had 40 likes. Arya felt a mixture of nausea and anger. She wanted to reply to this Willow. H. Yes, The Nymeria was a legacy restaurant, but it was far from boring. Arya had done all she could to fuse the traditional northern sea cuisine with all the culinary training she earned while studying in Braavos' famed House of Black and White Culinary Academy. Her menu was far from standard or boring! Even the critic, Jaqen H'ghar, had written a rave review of The Nymeria. Arya did not think the critique was fair. Quite the contrary, she thought this user and those who liked her article were biased against her without any cause. How was it any fault of hers if this other restaurant, Steel and Fire, did not get the same attention? Arya desperately wanted to speak out against the comment, but she decided to let it go. There were more pressing matters at hand. For one, the restaurant's opening night.

The reopening went as seamless as one could possibly imagine. The house was packed and the food was delicious according to all the guests including various culinary critics and journalists. Though White Harbor was a sizeable city by the sea, it certainly felt like the entire city was at The Nymeria. But most important to Arya, the whole Stark retinue was also attendance. Even Sansa and her new husband, Petyr. Though their addition to the party made for an awkward family table given how Petyr went to college with their parents.

Arya wanted to be as happy as Wylla was about the night's success, but she mostly felt exhausted.

"You did a good job, Arya Underfoot," Arya's father, Ned, said as he embraced her at the end of the night when all the guests had long gone.

Arya breathed in his pine scent. "Thanks, dad," She said when she reluctantly pulled away from the embrace in order to move towards her mother, Catelyn.

Catelyn looked radiant in her fur lined coat. Always elegant and beautiful, her mother. She smiled and pulled Arya into a short hug. "I agree with your father. The Nymeria is quite reinvented with you at the helm. And though the food isn't really my taste, a little too spicy, I did immensely enjoy the dishes."

Years ago, Arya would have felt slighted by the mixed compliment from her mother, but now she decided to take it in stride. She was content with the reopening and that's all that mattered.

When Arya opened the door to her townhouse, she felt so exhausted that she collapsed right on her couch while her old cat, Salem, jumped up to sit on her feet. A part of Arya wanted to sleep into the next year, but she also still felt the night's exhilaration. Instead of getting ready for bed, she glanced at a phone. There was a new notification from the Raven app. Usually, Arya cleared those notifications right away. She was too busy to spend her time chatting. But, this time was different. Even if it was nearly three in the morning, Arya was far too excited to sleep. Maybe chatting would not be so bad.

There were a handful of messages on the app's notifications page. A few were lame pick up lines or inquiries for nudes, so Arya ignored them. However, the latest message did intrigue her.

HammerTime92: What kind of food do you cook?

Arya smiled.

Titansdaughter: A little of everything. Mostly Northern and Braavosi food. Do you cook?

HammerTime92: I grill some, chop some. Does that count?

Titansdaughter: I'd say so. Do you have a signature dish?

HammerTime92: Steak is my speciality. Southern style, though. What about you?

Titansdaughter: Clams and cockles!

HammerTime92: Don't tell me you go around shouting that.

Titansdaughter: Only when I'm planning to distract people while I go on hit jobs.

HammerTime92: I know there's no personal specifics on this app, but I got to say...that sounds pretty cool if you are an assassin.

Titansdaughter: Damn. I knew I should've changed my user name to LicenseToKill.

Arya smiled. HammerTime92 wasn't such a bad user to chat with. Even if it was so late she had to wonder if the chatter wasn't a complete weirdo.

------

A lack of sleep was not unusual for Arya. When the sun creeped through the windows of her home, Arya was up and ready to go help Wylla and the rest of the crew prep for the day.

Running the restaurant was long and hard, but Arya loved it all the same. In between prepping the menu, the ingredients, and cleaning up, she never felt more alive.

Arya was sweeping when Wylla came along her side. "Hey, let's take a break from this place. We can go out to lunch. Something that isn't from our kitchens for once. Come on. It'll be good to walk around. See some of the other stuff on the wharf. I saw on my feed that a new steak place opened up down the way. We could check it out."

Though Arya couldn't see what was wrong from eating lunch in the restaurant, she did agree with Wylla that it might do some good to get some fresh air outside of The Nymeria.

Arya loved White Habor's wharf. As one walked along, there were tons of shops and restaurants and views of the sea for miles. Arya admired them and took in the salty fresh air as Wylla led them to their destination: Steel and Fire.

Arya blinked. This was the restaurant mentioned by Willow.H in negative comment she had read on Instagram.

The sign was minimalist and forged from steel. Arya had to admit the place was sleek in it's simplicity and homages to a long gone industrial era just by judging what she could through the restaurant's windows.

"How cool is it? My friends went to eat the first location in the Saltpans. They rave about it so much," Wylla said as she dragged Arya into the restaurant.

She had to admit, the place seemed rather busy for lunch hour. "Is there a hostess, or---" Wylla said as she and Arya stood by the door.

A man was cooking on a long grill that was surrounded by a long bar around its perimeters. He answered Wylla loudly over the restaurant's chatter. His voice was deep, gruff, and perfectly understood. "Sit anywhere! Hell, sit right here," the man said as he pointed with a cleaver at the two available bar seats in front of where he was dicing up some ingredients.

Unperturbed, Arya and Wylla made their way over to the two bar seats. A server hastily gave the pair of them some menus and hurried off to deliver a dish to some other diners.

Arya looked at the menu. The selections were not typical for a steak house in the north, so Arya was intrigued. When she picked her head up to look at the grill, she thought she saw the cook in front of her staring at her but he looked away at once.

No, Arya, thought. He wouldn't look at me. Not when I smell like seafood and my clothes are filthy from restaurant prep.

[foreverreadingbeautifulbooks]

For the ask game, please do GOT and/or ASoIaF! 😘

1. The first character I fell in love with: Probably Arya…she’s so absolutely adorable in the first season and I loved watching her embrace her loves for sword fighting and adventure. I also fell in love with Tyrion Lannister early on and enjoyed watching him become a political force of nature throughout the early seasons (which honestly made it even more frustrating to watch him become so politically incompetent by the end of the show.)

2. The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: My boy, Jaime Lannister! He is set up perfectly as a villain in the first book/first episode of the show for you to hate him after he pushes Bran from the Broken Tower, but the breakdown of his character that occurs throughout his time with Brienne is mind-blowing. I adore the scene when he shares his role in saving the people of King’s Landing and how it just shifts the audience’s perspective of him. Yes he is an antagonist of our favorite family, but a lot of his actions are really easy to understand from his perspective. I also never expected to root for Cersei Lannister, but holy shit did her Walk of Shame change that…like I adored her Season 6 storyline afterwards and watching her take down the sparrows saw so satisfying. (GRRM is the absolute king of making you rethink characters as you read more about them from their own perspectives, which makes the multi-POV perspectives one of the things I loved best about the books. I also have to say that they did a pretty good job at portraying the multiple points of view in Seasons 1-6 of the show.) I should admit as well that I didn’t love Sansa Stark at the beginning of the show as I hadn’t yet read the books when I started watching it, but I fell head over heels for her the moment she called Joffrey on his shit with her “or maybe he’ll give me yours.” *bows down to THE QUEEN*

3. The character everyone else loves that I don’t: In the show I feel like a lot of people really liked Bronn, but while I enjoyed his time with Tyrion, I wish they had cut him out of the show after Season 4 because he didn’t add anything to it after that and I hated his ending. (Actually I wish his ending on the show had followed his book storyline because he marries Lollys Stokeworth; then after Tyrion Lannister’s trial in which he is declared a kingslayer, Bronn names his wife’s bastard son Tyrion. It absolutely infuriates Cersei and I found it freaking hilarious!)

4. The character I love that everyone else hates: I’m not sure if I’m correct in this assumption, but it seems to me that a lot of people hate Bran, particularly after he was chosen to rule at the end of the show. And while I still think that having him as King of the Six Kingdoms was a weird decision to make, I am 100% on the Bran Stark defense squad. He’s so caring and kind in the early seasons and such a drama queen after he goes full Three-Eyed Raven that it’s always fabulous to watch him.

5. The character I used to love but don’t any longer: Tyrion Lannister, actually. He was my first favorite and around season 5 I decided I would stop watching if he died, but ironically I was wishing he was dead by the end of the series.  I hate that he’s the character that got the “happy” ending of holding the most powerful position in his country by the end of the show after he helped bring about so much destruction. *sighs*

6. The character I would totally smooch: Jon Snow…like any day of the week. I mean, have you seen this freaking gorgeous human?! *fans self* Not to mention Robb Stark and grown-up Bran Stark…man the ENTIRE Stark family has some good genes!  

7. The character I’d want to be like: Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Wylla Manderly, Lyanna Mormont, and Brienne of Tarth. Gosh I love the amazing heroines in these books and on this show!

8. The character I’d slap: Oh gosh, there’s so many…Daenerys Targaryen,  Ramsay Bolton, Joffrey Baratheon, Roose Bolton, Walder Frey, Rhaegar Targaryen, Robert Baratheon, and I could go on as my list would include about 80% of the male characters on the show. Am I allowed to slap multiple characters?

9. A pairing that I love: I adore Jonsa with my entire heart and soul. I literally cry every time I watch their first reunion at Castle Black and I love every second that they spend together onscreen. (I can’t wait for their reunion in the books if GRRM ever finishes them!) They are perfection and I wish so badly that the series had ended with them ruling the North together but I guess at this point that’s what fanfiction is for.

10. A pairing that I despise: I cannot stress enough how much I hate jonerys. It’s abusive and disgusting and I wish that the writers had never played it off as romantic because it was NOT.

Message me a fandom and I will answer the questions

[ladystarks]

come home to me

written for the jonsansaweek day three prompt: Location

She feels weak in her knees the first time she sees Winterfell again. The shape of it is almost exactly how she remembers, her eyes tracing the old lines of her home, watery with unshed tears. From what she has been made to understand, much of it is burned and in disrepair, but she can see the outline of Lord Manderly’s builders against the snowy air, preparing the castle for winter.

Besides her in the carriage, Wylla Manderly apologizes once more for the sorry state Winterfell will be in, but Sansa cannot answer around the lump in her throat. She doesn’t care about the burned towers that are beyond repair, can’t they see? Sansa never thought she’d see Winterfell again.

The knights of the Vale have taken residence in the east towers, preparing for her arrival. She can see the Arryn sigil flying high, a familiar sight after so long in the Vale--but for the first time, flying above it is her sigil, a gray Stark direwolf flapping in the winter winds. And she is a Stark, once more. The feeling brings her a measure of relief. No matter what the future brings, she will face it as herself--not Alayne Stone, not a hostage, or a meek little girl. As Sansa Stark.

If Sansa were alone, she would be brimming over with tears. As it is, she shares her carriage with Lord Manderly and his daughter, and must reign herself in.

“Lord Littlefinger awaits us in Winterfell,” Lord Manderly informs her around a swallow. He has been drinking wine to fortify himself on their cold ascent, and his ruddy face betrays him, though his eyes are still sharp. Sansa senses that he may have seen her unshed tears. “He has been preparing for your stay, my lady.”

Sansa nods, before turning back to watch Winterfell grow closer out the window. “And Rickon? He will be situated safely in Winterfell by the time we arrive?”

“We sent him ahead of us by a moon, so he surely is.”

If Petyr has not poisoned him by now, Sansa does not say. It is unkind of her to suspect such a thing, and she has never given voice to her suspicions that Petyr poisoned Harry only a few short weeks after their wedding--as he poisoned Joffrey, and pushed her aunt Lysa from the moon door. She knows not the length of his web, nor what tangles it has, but Sansa knows he wants to make her happy, when he can. When it does not ruin his own schemes. Killing Rickon to instate her as Lady of Winterfell would make her decidedly unhappy, but all Sansa can do until she arrives is pray for her brother’s safety. There has been a knot twisting in her chest, slightly relieved at seeing her home, but will not untangle complete until she holds her brother in her arms again.

“Worry not, my lady,” Wylla Manderly says, rebraiding her hair. Sansa has never seen a girl with green hair before. She likes the look of it more than she’d expect.  “Ser Davos Seaworth has been charged with your brother’s protection, and he has Northmen guarding him at all times. We even charged Ser Davos with finding a food taster, before sending him off. The little King must be kept safe, after all.”

Sansa nods, face unchanging, though she is very glad to hear the measures taken to protect her brother. Then she turns back to the window, and watches her home grow bigger in the snow.

...........

She goes to find Rickon the moment she steps off the carriage, insisting upon it before anything else, to the dismay of the servants Littlefinger sent to attend her, as though she’d want a bath and food before seeing the only family she has left.

The walls of the castle are warm, and Sansa makes for her brother’s old rooms, ignoring the calls of the servants scurrying after her. She still remembers where to go, she realizes. She thought she might have forgotten.

But when she pushes open the doors, spinning breathlessly into the room--propriety forgotten--it is empty.

“I’ve been trying to tell you, m’lady,” the maid says, once she catches up to a cold, frightened Sansa, frozen in the empty doorway. “They’re not here. They’re in the godswood.”

Sansa feels silly for her paralyzing fear, but only for the few moments it takes to compose herself. “I see,” she says. “Let us go, then.”

She pulls her cloak tighter around her when they enter the Godswood. The snow is swirling down around her, and the wind howling above them, but hemmed in by the old trees, Sansa can’t feel it, only a warm anticipation in her chest.

And then, just before the weirwood is in sight, she sees the wolves.

Sansa feels weak in the knees again, and this time she lets herself fall, heart beating hard in her chest. Two direwolves, one black as coal and one so white she can barely see it against the falling snow.

“Shaggydog,” she breathes, “Ghost.”

The wolves are upon her between one breath and the next, and Sansa is grabbing burying her face in their fur, inhaling the scent she’d forgotten, after all these years. They’re big, bigger than Lady ever was, and yet Sansa feels no fear. They’re home, after all, just like she is.

“Sansa?” a boy’s voice calls, uncertain. When she looks up, it is as though a younger Robb stands before her, but no, it’s Rickon, and he’s grown too.

“Rickon,” Sansa breathes, and suddenly he’s in her lap, his skinny arms locked around her.

She knows that her guards followed her into the entrance of the Godswood, and thinks that is perhaps the presence she senses to her side, but when she looks up her heart nearly stops. It’s not the guards, nor a servant, or even Littlefinger.

Father?

It’s not Ned Stark, she realizes, even as the thought crosses her mind. Jon Snow is the very image of their father, somber and dressed in black, with snow in his brown hair.

“Jon,” Sansa mouths, but she seems unable to actually expel the air necessary to make the sounds. Her mind races in a million directions, flitting impossibly fast from thought to thought. She’d heard he was Lord Commander of the Watch. She’d heard he’d disappeared beyond the wall. She’d heard he was dead.

Jon walks three steps unsteadily, before falling to his knees before them. “Sansa,” he says, before she pulls him by the cloak into their embrace.

........

She hasn’t been so happy in years. Even with the threat of winter, the Others, the whispered tales of a dragon queen making her way through the south, and Lord Baelish’s attempts to get her alone cannot take her happiness from her. She, Jon and Rickon spend all their time together, and Jon even insists on letting Sansa into the war meetings. She will be lady regent, the northmen agree, until Rickon is old enough to take his throne and while the men make north to fight the Others.

She marvels at Rickon. He’s only eight years old now, but stoic and sharp as a knife. And Jon...they’d never been close before, but Jon is suddenly the pillar that Sansa can lean against for support. It’s been years since she trusted anyone so much, but with Jon it’s almost easy. Perhaps it is because he looks so much like father these days. Perhaps it’s because he reminds her of the way things used to be, when they were all together. Whatever the reason, Sansa is grateful he is by her side.

And she wants him to stay by her side.

“You know I can’t,” Jon whispers one night, hand warm on her elbow as they tuck Rickon in to bed. Their rooms are all right next to each other, as close as the three of them can possibly get at all moments. “The Others are making to come past the wall, and even though I am no longer a man of the Watch, it is my duty--”

“To fight for the North.”

“Yes,” Jon says, looking away. “And if we don’t go, you and Rickon and everyone else in the North won’t be safe.”

Sansa shivers, leaning into his arm. “I feel safer with you here,” she confesses. She’s too close to him, she knows that, but she can’t make herself step away.

When she saw him first, she thought he was her father come again. But that can’t be true, can it? Jon is taller than their father, leaner. His hair is darker, eyes more intense when they catch on hers. This close, she can see the muscle twitching in his jaw, the stubble he has yet to shave. He’d been brought back to life in fire, and his hands are always warm now, when she seeks them out.

He swallows under her scrutiny, and finally looks her in the eyes. Something tight squeezes in her chest, and Sansa wishes she could poke at it, what makes her feel this way when she’s with him--but she knows that if she puts words to this feeling, nothing will ever be the same.

“You must be safe,” she tells him. “Come home safe to Winterfell.”

Jon bites back a smile. She can see it, in his eyes. “After having been away so long, this is the only place in the world I’d ever want to be.”

She makes the decision to tilt her head up, place her lips on that hidden smile, tucked between his cheek and the corner of his mouth. For a moment--only a second, in truth--Sansa feels Jon tense against her. This is too close to that which she will not name. She lets her lips linger there, and Jon relaxes. She can feel his hand come to her neck, the other one tracing a soft circle on the inside of her elbow.

When she moves her face away, she stays in his loose embrace. She wants more. She can’t have it, but she wants to press her lips to the pulse at his neck, breathe him in deep before he has to go.

He’ll come back to Winterfell. He’ll save them all, and come back. When he does, they’ll talk about this, and be happy. Together.

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

Thanks for the tag @moris-auri and @emilykaldwen 💕

1. How many works do you have on ao3(or masterlist)? 16

2. What’s your total ao3 word count? 431,794

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently just House of the Dragon, but I'll be tackling Game of Thrones/ASOIAF soonish

4. Top five fics by kudos? Iron and Ash, Salt in the Wound, Haunt Me, Paper Crowns, All We Ever Wanted Was Everything

5. Do you respond to comments? Usually! Unless they're unhinged lol

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I pulled it, but it was called Seneca, a Narcos fic and it was gut wrenching.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Paper Crowns had a pretty happy ending. So did Everything.

8. Do you get hate on fics? People get a little nuts in my comment section, yeah.

9. Do you write smut? I do!

10. Craziest crossover? I don't do crossover fic

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I have. It's a shitty feeling.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have! @lady-morrigen and I have co-written and it's my favorite thing. I love writing with her.

14. All time favorite ship? That I've written? Aemond and Wylla. In general? Reylo.

15. What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I have some bg3 ideas I'm toying with that have some words on a page that I'd like to bring to life one day. But haunt me and after are my priorities.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I have a good handle on creating characters that feel like real people.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I struggle to let my characters evolve and I second guess my plot ideas a lot.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? Love it. Unless it's high Valyrian, then I just cry in frustration.

19. First fandom you wrote in? Star Wars! It was a modern queer Rey one shot lol

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Haunt Me, hands down. It's the culmination of so many ideas and hard work.

No pressure tags: @lady-morrigen @selfproclaimedunicorn @theradioactivespidergwen @darkwolf76 @branwendaughterofllyr

[queenandlionheart-rps]

pairing: jeyne westerling + maron greyjoy { @augustus1x1 } universe: university au

It’s a good thing Spring Break falls at the midpoint of the semester, because after two weeks back at school - two weeks filled with missed classes, long showers, and attempts to count their orgasms - both Maron and Jeyne are told, with little fanfare, that neither of them are welcome back to live in their respective houses come autumn. You’re too loud, I need my sleep, and I love you Jeyne is told by Wylla. But I don’t or want to see Greyjoy’s bare ass ever again.

You broke the showerhead, in every single bathroom we have and I can’t remember the last time we had hot water, is the more responsible excuse given to Maron by Harry. Wouldn’t you be happier living with Jeyne anyway? You can bang her whenever you want. In the end, the results are the same: Jeyne and Maron clearly enjoy each other more than their housemates would appreciate and discretion demands.

Perhaps another couple would be intimidated, or at least annoyed, but they are not. Instead, they roll their eyes and spend a lovely Saturday afternoon searching for flats. They choose the third one, a small flat near Oldtown that’s on the top floor of a historic building; there’s only one bedroom but the sitting room is swathed in light and the vaulted ceilings make it appear more spacious than it is. The kitchen is more than large enough for their tastes and the en suite has a jacuzzi tub Jeyne has plans for. They may never entertain many friends here, but to them, it is perfect.

And if anyone finds it strange that they’re moving in together after a few weeks, they stay quiet. Everyone’s watched Jeyne and Maron dance around each other enough. They do not want a repeat of Jeyne’s well-meaning manipulation and Maron’s drunken pining.

The lease begins in the autumn and Jeyne daydreams about filling the flat with furniture and knick-knacks, about the perfect corner for Maron’s aquarium; she finds she can’t wait to make it their home.  

Jeyne does not go to The Crag for summer break, citing a class she simply has to take that won’t be offered at any other time. [ It’s an online class, but Jeyne doesn’t think Sybell Westerling needs to know that. ] There’s an internship opportunity she mentions, too, though if she’s being honest, the internship in aquatics is little more than an excuse to spend the entire summer on Maron’s boat.

Though they call it a boat, it’s more a yacht than anything else, and by the time summer ends, they’ve made love in every room. The deck is expansive and Jeyne spends most days laying in a lounge chair, a cocktail in one hand as she takes in the beauty of the Sunset Sea while the sun tans her skin. She sunbathes topless more often than not, finding that the Essosi are much more liberal about such things. Besides, she doesn’t think Maron minds, if the bruises on her hips or the hickeys down the length of her spine are any indication.

Maron’s told his parents a similar lie and they ask even fewer questions than the Westerlings. While Jeyne is thankful for it - is thankful for these weeks of just them - she recognizes that this is not normal parental behavior.

[ She would question it, but Jeyne stopped asking about Balon Greyjoy’s stellar parenting the day his son arrived at her home with a black eye and knuckles so white she wondered if he’d gripped the wheel in anger for the entirety of the drive. ]

They have the resources to travel the world several times over and yet instead they choose to spend their summer on a yacht in the Sunset Sea with good food, little clothing, and an amount of tequila that Maron calls healthy but would make Jeyne’s mother have a heart attack. [ Another thing that would make Jeyne’s mother have a heart attack: the sheer amount of sex that the two have on a daily basis. It’s nearly obscene, even Jeyne has to admit, though she can hardly bring herself to care when his fingers are bringing her near climax, when his lips are leaving delicious purple bruises on her skin. ]

Some nights are spent on the yacht while others are spent in an apartment in Lys that Maron has kept for some time. It overlooks the water and at night when they lay in bed, the sounds of the sea coming through the open window, sweat glistening on their skin, Jeyne thinks that this is the most idyllic place she has ever lived.

She wants to stay here forever, to ignore the responsibilities life has thrust upon them.  

Jeyne tells him so one night, lips grazing over his skin. “We could leave,” she muses. “Spend the rest of our lives as castaways on a deserted island.” He arches a brow and presses a kiss to her collarbone and his quip about deserted islands being devoid of birth control makes her laugh.

“One day,” she responds, her lips curved in a genuine smile. “When we’ve seen enough of the world and we can refrain from fucking every other hour.” She presses another kiss to his lips. “I hope they have your eyes.”

[ That night is one of the most intense they ever have and by the time Jeyne falls asleep, the sun is rising and her entire being feels deliciously wrung out. ]

It’s near the end of the summer when they decide to invite their friends for a party [ if one can call a weeklong excursion a party ]. They’ve missed their friends and when Margaery and Sansa arrive, Jeyne spends hours catching up before Loras makes margaritas up on the deck.

Jeyne and Maron are found in the kitchen on the second morning by Loras, who quickly averts his eyes, though he still sees flashes of Jeyne’s legs wrapped around Maron’s waist bare waist and hears the epithets that escape from their lips. [ He complains later to Renly that they didn’t even stop. Renly laughs. ]

The party turns into little more than a bender for all of them. Mimosas and Bloody Mary’s for brunch, champagne for lunch, margaritas for happy hour, and after dinner drinks turn into a free for all. By the time the week is over, the yacht’s alcohol supply is nearly diminished, the guests have been oscillating between drunk and hungover for days, and Jeyne and Maron wave goodbye before falling into bed and sleeping for a full day straight. 

[ They’ll need the sleep for the days ahead. ] 

A trip to The Crag and Pyke round out their summer travels, with Jeyne’s family being more accepting of Maron than they’d been at Christmas. Her mother’s eyes still linger on his tattoos, though her gaze appears less harsh. Her younger siblings seem even more enamoured with Maron than Jeyne is and by the time they leave, her mother is making them promise to return for the holidays - both of them.

Pyke is both less and more than what she’s expected and she leaves feeling as if she’s somehow disappointed people she’d never before met. It’s disconcerting, but Jeyne pushes her own thoughts aside; she does not like to see Maron so withdrawn and she spends their drive back to Oldtown doing her best to coax a smile out of him.

[ In the end, her hand lays on his thigh, moves up, and he stops the car on the side of a mountain road near Silverhill and fucks her against a tree as the river bubbles in the background. ]

He offers her a dopey smile most of the way south, but it is only when they are in Oldtown, the next morning, that she sees Maron’s stature visibly relax. She threads her fingers through his and squeezes.

The flat is filled with boxes within a couple of hours; furniture will be delivered tomorrow, but tonight they make a bed of blankets and pillows on the hardwood floor in front of the fireplace. Her breasts are pressed against his bare chest and moonlight filters in through the windows. Maron is half asleep, and yet Jeyne is wide awake, taking in this moment.

“I love you,” she whispers as she runs her fingers through his hair. It is not the first time she’s said the words and it will certainly not be the last. But each time it seems important to say it, seems important that he knows she loves him more than life itself. He mumbles something in response that she assumes is a similar thought.

“I never knew that home could be a person before you.” And though Maron’s mostly asleep, Jeyne doesn’t think she imagines the way his arms tighten around her.  

[lawonderlandwriter]

Okay okay!

First lines meme

RULES: List the openings of the last ten stories you published. Look to see if there are any patterns that you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any! Then tag some friends.

Tagged by @tomakeitbeautifultolive

1) Ice And Fire And Family 

“Your Grace, might I have a word?” Jaime asked quietly, but making sure to emphasize her title so she might agree. Jon Snow looked back at the two of them, an unreadable expression on his face. But when Daenerys nodded, he exited the great hall with his sisters and Brienne.

“Your Grace?” Daenerys repeated, eyebrow raised. “I thought I was just a would-be usurper to you and your sister.” Jaime swallowed hard. He’d done them a great favor overseeing the construction of the scorpion weapon so they might have a chance against the undead dragon. And Sansa at least, had expressed her gratefulness that he was with them. But Daenerys was different. Yes, he’d wronged the Starks many times over. Had attempted to kill one of them. But the crimes he committed against the Targaryen family were far worse. He wasn’t sure where to begin. - DNF sorry. Comments were pretty rude so I abandoned this one. Might go back to it one day.

2) I Want To Be Where You Are

“What are you doing out here?” Jon heard a familiar voice call out to him. He smiled. For some reason, he knew she would find him out there on the steps.

“Just enjoying the view one last time,” he told her, motioning to the sunset in front of them. Daenerys came up and rested her hands on the stone lining the pathway and sighed. Jon turned to watch her watch the sunset and he couldn’t help but think that this was the most beautiful he had ever seen her. The way the light caught her hair and her eyes. The way her lips parted as if in wonder at it all. Looking at her then, Jon’s chest ached. They were leaving that evening, headed north to fight in the Great War. Then afterward, if they were to succeed, they would take King’s Landing from Cersei and there Daenerys would reside. They would have no reason to ever come back to Dragonstone again. Neither of them. - My boatsex one shot! (Split into two chapters)

3) At Least They Had Each Other

In order to keep from crying, Daenerys decided to be angry. Angry at her soon to be husband whom she had never met, angry at the king for forcing this match upon her to shame her house, angry at her brother Rhaegar for running off with Lyanna Stark and igniting this whole mess in the first place, and angry at her father for giving House Targaryen such a horrible reputation, as if any who bore the name would be just as mad and awful as he was. She didn’t want to marry this Jon Snow, some barbaric Northern bastard whom she was sure would be no better than a wildling. Probably twice her size, wiry beard and untamable hair, weatherbeaten skin because the gods knew how unkind the weather was this far north. Thick accent that would either grate on her nerves or be so foreign to her ears she wouldn’t be able to understand a word he said. And oh gods, the bedding. She dreaded that most of all. Like any good lady she had never lain with another, saving herself for her betrothed, mostly because she was fearful that if she didn’t come to her marriage bed pure, he would be able to tell and it would anger him. But being pure had its downsides and from what all her friends and handmaids had told her, the first time was a dreadfully painful experience. And certainly a Northern brute like this Jon Snow wouldn’t be gentle with her at all. - Honestly, probably my favorite out of all the things I’ve written, my “Forced Marriage” AU for one of the Jonerys Weeks!

4) A Fire You Can’t Put Out

Mr. Snow sat at his desk in room 317 and waited for the mad rush. It was eight o’ five, on the morning of August twentieth. It was the first day of school. And it was going to suck.

The government teacher hadn’t always hated the first day of school. When he began teaching at Westeros High three years ago, he had actually looked forward to it. Some of his best memories had taken place in these halls in his own days as a student with best friend and fellow alumni-turned-teacher, Robb Stark. - Adapted from an original story of mine for Jonerys Week - Modern AU (High School AU - Teacher Jon, Student Dany).

5) A Cold That Would Burn The Entire World

It was everything Tyrion feared and even more horrifying to see. Sansa gasped when they brought the queen inside and laid her lifeless body on the table, her protruding belly almost mocking them. Grey Worm wouldn’t meet Tyrion’s gaze and simply walked back outside. Arya and Theon Greyjoy stayed though. Tyrion wanted to ask what happened. Wanted to know every bloody detail but the words stuck in his throat. The Lady Melisandre walked around Daenerys’s body, shaking her head as if she didn’t agree with this. Tyrion felt the same. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to end. He had seen the dead all collapse into lifeless corpses again. He knew they had won. But this didn’t feel like a victory. - My SUPER angsty one-shot on the end of the War for the Dawn. It has a happy ending though!

6) Go South, Get Warm

It had been a long journey from Eastwatch but not at all unpleasant. Though this was only Jon’s second time on a ship and certainly the longest he’d ever been out to sea, he found he loved it. It was peaceful. It was quiet. There were no traitorous Night’s Watchmen here. No wights or White Walkers. It was just Jon and the sea. And Ghost. The direwolf didn’t seem overly fond of being on the ship. Here he couldn’t roam or hunt. He’d grown a little bit of a belly since they departed and Jon noticed it swung from side to side when Ghost trotted up and down the ship. He hadn’t yet decided if he found it endearing or felt guilty for it. - An AU in which Jon misses Sansa at Castle Black and does exactly what he told Ed he would do - Go South, Get Warm. And yes, still writing, have not given up on it.

7) Across The Sea

Her handmaid and midwife Wylla had told her it wouldn’t be for a few more weeks but as another painful squeeze around her midsection took her breath away, Lyanna knew her little prince or princess was coming today . She knew what had brought on her early labor. Her grief at hearing of Rhaegar’s tragic passing and the fate of his former wife and children. Though she knew she and Rhaegar needed to pay for their sins that started this wretched war, this price seemed much too great. - AU where Jaime and Lyanna raise Jon and Dany in Essos. Have not given up on it either, still planning on continuing. 

8) The Ginger Wolf And The Copper Dragon

Jon sat at his new desk in his new office - new office in honor of his election as the 998th Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. When Sam had thrown Jon’s name into the election, Jon had not expected to win and somewhat resented Sam for doing so. He just knew that when Thorne was named Lord Commander, he’d make Jon pay for his going up against him in some way. But to Jon’s surprise, Maester Aemon cast the deciding vote, putting all his trust in Jon, giving him all the responsibility of The Wall, putting so many people’s fates in Jon’s hands.

It was a hollow victory of course. As he sat at his desk, eyes and mind refusing to close so he might get some rest, he touched his fingers as close to the candle in front of him as he dared without burning himself. Kissed by fire. Unbidden, Jon’s eyes prickled with tears and his throat tightened, thinking of Ygritte. We should have never left that cave. - AU where Jon/Ygritte had a daughter and Rhaego lived. Single parents Jon/Dany. My FLUFFIEST fic to date.

Hmm, so I guess I definitely have a thing for writing from male character’s perspectives! Clearly these are all Jonerys. Though funnily enough, when I first made this blog, I was super into the Marauders Era of Harry Potter and wanted to write fics for that. I may still yet. Who knows?

If you’ve been tagged, sorry! Tagging @ashleyfanfic @thesparkles59 @muttpeeta @justwandering-neverlost

[unabulwer]

No one had given him freedom of the castle, but no one had denied it to him either.

In December of that 17 win, 2014 15 season, nike air max thea atomic pink The Post reported Anthony told a confidant he would consider waiving his no trade clause if he thought he could be dealt to a title contender. He dispatched a portion to Leathers out at Hardin’s Tower, along with three big platters of roast vegetables for Wun Wun, then ate a healthy slice himself. No one had given him freedom of the castle, but no one had denied it to him either. Severe Weather Guide Severe Weather Current Weather Lake Michigan Climate Lifestyle Airport Weather Health Detail Weather Alerts Cams Location Search Weather From Your Deck Local 13 On Your Side My West Michigan Morning News Our Michigan Life Made in Michigan Grand Rapids Metro More. Wylla spoke from the heart, as did Lady Leona. Duck and Yandry pushed against the poles. 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That bloody widow knew the ship would never reach her destination, she warned us of that, said Benerro saw it in his fires, only I took that to mean … well, what does it matter?” His mouth twisted. Back at the rear of the hall, he spied the Dornish princeling and his two companions. “The queen has told me much and more of your beauty.”. HERE IS A LOOK AT WHAT HAPPENING. "I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Sold me to Madame C., who keeps a large flower-garden. “I mean to open three more castles,” Jon said. His jaws closed on matted fur slick with hoarfrost, on a limb thin as a dry stick, but the one-eyed wolf clawed at his belly and tore himself free, rolled, lunged for him. Sharp is expected to come online in the near future as another source. “It is the cook’s little jape, Ser bokacsizma bakancs Balon,” said Arianne. Not exactly realistic, right? 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Well, let it be writers then, but I tell you what I wanted to say: people are not made kammerherrs, of course, because they write novels; it’s no use to dream of that; but anyway you can make your mark; become, an attache of some sort. The brusque dismissal did not sit well with Justin Massey, but he had no choice but to smile and withdraw. Regarding Syria, what more would they do, tell us, маратонки puma mercedes amg other than putting soldiers in harms way, be honest about the fact while in office a Mitt/Paul white house would move toward removing abortion rights for women! So lets talk about a different type of disrespect. Air Force extended the lead to 20 points, 45 25, early in the second half with a 12 6 spurt and was never seriously threatened after that. “Yes, yes, adidas mariposas Alyosha,” Natasha chimed in, “ he’s on our side, he’s a brother to us, he has forgiven us already, and without him we shall not be happy. 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Reality suddenly made me think hard about what would stay and what could go.. He may go three or four games without a contribution. They're ruining the whole league. After he had helped them up onto the cushioned bench between the cart’s two huge wooden wheels, he clambered onto the elephant’s back. “Refuse, and the boy will burn. She would have no need of them today, but Melisandre made it a point to keep a pair of guards about her everywhere she went. The Euro can see that far out yet. Up and down the length of the hall, Brazen Beasts lowered their spears. Why do we have to be so weird and shaming about clothing? Why do we pretend that size 4 is the norm, when it not? At this point, though, change is still coming one step at a time McCarthy own shop on HSN currently features a separate designation for plus sizes.

[shazyloren]

The Room: Chapter 2 - Betraying the Wife

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12710496/chapters/28995873

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Jon hated the mornings of September first. He always felt like an outsider look in when it came to his family, and as he looked at the chaos before him, Sansa forgetting her hairbrush and Robb forgetting his Quidditch gear, he felt it more than ever. He was the odd one out, his half-siblings acting as family should, while he, his father's secret child with some bar maid from times lost, was forgotten and left to sit in the hall on his trunk.

Wylla was her name, or so he had been told. A beauty as enticing as her name. Red hair; pale skin and eyes kinder than you could dream. This information was not comforting to him. His arrival had almost ruined his father's relationship with his wife. And Jon living here was a constant reminder of that betrayal. Not that this should ever be Jon's fault; don't blame me for father's mistakes, he'd always tell Catelyn, his father's wife, when she was in one of her spiteful crusades against him.

But she still did; it was better than being affectionate with him like she was her own born children. She couldn't bring herself to see the value in Jon. But Jon thought it all very archaic. Show him a husband and wife in the wizarding world who were still together that hadn't had a mishap of adultery in their marriage? It would be very difficult; it's just something that happens. Perhaps it was the skeptic in him.

Jon was just really wishing the blame had been put somewhere else; it's not like it's his fault he exists. Perhaps that's what Cat would like, for him to not exist. She'd never explicitly told him that; but he'd got the feeling that this was true. As his father never bothered to stand up for him when she was on a rampage against Jon, he just had to endure.

A rather tragic and worn out reason to hate the mornings of September first, but it was valid in his heart.

And now, this year would be the last time he had a September first like this, which he guessed was some form of reason to be happy. He didn't have to come back to this place after the year was done if he did not want to, he could go into the big world and get a place of his own. A small flat perhaps, something he'd be able to keep tidy himself. As he was going into his seventh and final year of attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it was indeed time for him to become an adult.

It had been more of a home for him than the Stark house ever had been at some points in his life. He'd had his first girlfriend, Ygritte at this school and severally afterwards as his family liked to point out. He'd become something there too; he was popular, not that he understood why. All he had to do was brood in the Great Hall for twenty minutes and there would be a sea of people just watching him, fascinated. Jon found that part silly really, and more to the fact that when it happened Theon and Robb started charging people watch him ponder things that were bothering him. Third year hufflepuff girls were the big audience. He would shake his head and give the girls their money back; his brooding was for free.

Jon was a proud Gryffindor; and while his bedroom here at the Stark's house was all black, his favourite colour, he wore the Red and Gold with pride. His father hated that. His father would always say Pride is the downfall of a man. Pride makes men act stupidly, and Starks are not stupid. Jon would always say he wasn't a Stark in reply, taking his mother's surname of Snow instead (an act of defiance against Catelyn really). His father would laugh. You may not have my name, but you have my blood. And we Starks do not act stupidly. Jon always hated the idea of that, his father never lectured Bran or Arya when they became proud of something they've achieved. He was particularly harsh on Jon.

But Jon was proud, and in his mind it was not a bad thing. He's been sorted into the Gryffindor House along with his brother, Robb and his now best friend, Theon Greyjoy seven years ago. He remembered it like it was yesterday, the way the fear of having to sit on the stool made his skin tingle, the eyes of other students peering at him as the old material was placed onto his head. The long wait as it made his decision on Jon's fate before finally realising his bravery outweighed his loyalty and put him in Gryffindor and not Hufflepuff.

Of course, everything about him had changed since he wore that hate. He'd become a man, and a great one he had hoped. His father had said during the summer, that he was a man of honour and integrity and that it would be rewarded in his life. It was a strange compliment from his Father, a rare one at that. It was strange, the assaults from Catelyn, and his Father's chastising was at an all time low over the summer; perhaps because he'd barely been in the house, only for dinners in the evening that he was earning his stay there rather than just being around all the time.

Jon had had the best summer after sixth year, and he had never been more ready to attend school than this time around. He'd been accepted on a three week internship programme with the Ministry's Department of Magical Law enforcement. It was a starter course to see if being an Auror is exactly what he wanted. His first couple of days was getting used to the different people in the department and what the main constitutions of the job had been. But as the first week finished and the second started he really felt like he'd settled in well and was learning so much.

All he needed to do was increase his potion skill from Exceeds to outstanding and with doing the internship programme over the summer he'd definitely be able to get into the entry level Auror jobs and begin basic training. It was a rewarding career; but it could be dangerous too as he had found out in his third and final week.

Some of the Aurors from the Department here in the UK were transferred over to the east near Durmstrang School as there had been some Dark Wizard activity in the area. The school which used to be a hub of Dark energy, had in the last one hundred years turned around it's values and began teaching more or less some of the same stuff as Hogwarts. So the students there were to be protected at all cost, especially if something went wrong. Durmstrang were too out of school at this current time, but if the activity kept building it could be a threat when they returned.

An Auror, one Waymar Royce, was killed while on mission out there, it had definitely been dark magic and that was all Jon had known at the time. He left the day after this news came through but he had thought of Waymar often since then; wondering what the dark activity could be so far out that way. He shuddered to think. It only made him want to be an Auror more, to stop this kind of things happening. If he was going to nail this career in the neck, he was going to have to be involved in less and less of Robb and Theon's debauchery and focus even harder than years previous.

He had so much to juggle this year. He was the seeker of the Quidditch team, Captain of the Duelling Club and he was top in Defence Against the Dark Arts. These were all achievements he was really proud of, he did not care if pride was a dangerous thing. He had worked hard to earn the respect in school he had.

Being seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team was something he knew he wanted from his first flying lesson in first year. He remembered the way the wind felt across his face, the way the chill of the Autumn air sank into his skin, the way it made his skin tingle even long after getting off of the broom. It was just natural, and he managed to pick up speed so quickly. He had a natural talent for the Seeker role, his glasses helping his over active eyes focus better on seeing the tiny golden ball with it's fluttery wings. He'd yet to not catch the snitch in his four years as Seeker. He hoped his final year was the same.

He had been surprised last year with the honour of being captain of the Duelling Club. It was a club that had been together for just over one hundred years now, the D.A, it's real name. A notion that began with Legendary wizard Harry Potter over a century ago and had continued as a tradition and as a way of honouring him. Jon was made captain as he was to some, the only student since potter who'd ever come close in matching his talent for Defence against the Dark Arts and Duelling. Jon had found these words silly, of course he wasn't that good. He liked to think it was more for his natural ability to lead that had made Headmaster Lannister choose him.

And this was all thanks to his Defence Against the Dark Arts Lessons which he'd worked so hard to be the top of since first year. Professor Mormont had seen something in Jon's ability and had even given him the odd lesson outside of classes with some more advanced magic that you didn't learn until you got to the Ministry level of working and education. Defence just came naturally to Jon, he was even getting good at nonverbal now, only a few trickier spells he'd still not mastered without talking.

His skill in defence had actually meant he'd started going beyond that of education and started doing his own research, especially now as he was able to do magic outside of school. It had been a good nine months of being able to whip his wand out for just about anything. Thanks to all his research, he had actually created a new spell over the summer (something he'd only practiced a few times) and was eager to try it out more. He really wanted to try it on Joffrey Baratheon of Slytherin, who on the last day on Sixth year, hit his sister Sansa, a second year while he was a fourth. Of course, he'd never try a spell on a student without having fully worked the reverse of the spell. But it was tempting...

A ding of the clock meant his thoughts ran dry and his eyes peered up to hallway Grandfather clock, standing at the end of corridor, staring straight at him.

10 'o' clock.

Shit, the train will be leaving soon, he thought to himself as he leapt up from sitting on his trunk and dragged it to the main living room where everyone but Arya and Robb were waiting. Sansa made an offhand comment. "Finished staring into the abyss?"

"Sorry, I can't help it" Jon shrugged. He had tried not to brood or stare intently, but it just help him reorganise his thoughts in his head. It was at this comment that his father and Catelyn walked into the room, Arya, who was starting her first year, behind them looking more scared than Jon had ever seen her.

"All ready?" Ned asked, his tall stature towering over everyone except Robb, who had enjoyed a growth spurt over the summer. His steely gaze glazed over them all. "Now, ground rules" Here we go, Jon thought. "I do not want any letters home about setting people on fire this year, no letters about turning people into Ferrets and absolutely no words slandering another Wizard or Witch. If I do, there will be some choice Howlers for you all"

Jon knew he was talking to him and Robb. Jon had a fierce rivalry with a girl in Slytherin house, Daenerys Targaryen. She was a brilliant witch, Jon would always give her that. But she just lashed out to everyone, anyone who walks by that she feels has done her some wrong she'll hex into an oblivion. Jon, having that strong sense of morality and leadership, would defend those she harms and they'd always end up duelling in the corridors. She'd set him on fire and he'd turned her into a Ferret. It was all very stupid, but Jon refused to let her get away with the stuff she does. She was just so... angry all the time. He didn't know what her problem was but if she didn't change she'd have no friends, not that she has many anyway.

It also doesn't help that the teachers love her and turned a blind eye to her fiery temperament, all because she'd top in everything (besides Defence of course). And her family and their history... Jon shuddered, but the teachers did not care. They treat her with kindness and besides her friend from Hufflepuff, she only actually liked the teachers, particularly Headmaster Lannister, he doted upon her. "Jon"

"Yes?" He said as his father glared at him.

"Behave yourself, that family has gone through enough this summer" He warned.

It was true, he'd seen the newspaper. A very high profile family, torn apart as the father has left them. Some French Veela according to the daily prophet; he highly doubted that. The prophet were never a reliable source of information. Of course since the Targaryen family came to the UK ten years ago they'd been nothing but high profile. The mother and father being brother and sister might have something to do with that. Jon felt another shudder... he just didn't understand that. How can they come from a culture where that was okay?

"Of course, father" He nodded. He saw Catelyn flinch, another jab by Jon that reminded her of her husband's infidelity. "Well this is it then"

"Indeed, let's go!" Arya giggled, excited at her first year starting.

And so one by one they flooed into the Leaky Cauldron, a hotspot for Witches and Wizards all around London. It was the safest option to travel too before going to Kings cross, a ten minute walk away. Ned had done an undetectable extension charm on a bag in which all their trunks were neatly piled up inside. It saved them walking across London with trunks, drawing attention to themselves.

They reached platform nine and three quarters by half ten, plenty of time for the train. And as they walk through the barrier, they see the Scarlet engine and note it's already looking full. Spotting Theon and his sister Yara, a fifth year Slytherin, Jon got his trunk from his father, gave a noncommittal goodbye and left them behind with Robb by his side.

Theon started going on about how he and Yara had done nothing but Quidditch strength training all summer, hoping to become faster and harder to beat each other on the Quidditch pitch. Jon told them about his internship at the Ministry and the weird news happening in the East near Durmstrang school. It was all public knowledge now anyways. There had been a piece in the paper talking about Waymar Royce's life.

The train pulled away, it's engine sputtering to life as the Stark family who was not travelling to Hogwarts yet (Bran and Rickon) waved furiously on the platform. giving half a wave in reply, and receiving one steely last glance from Catelyn, the brick of the platform was finally replaced with the blues and greens of the british countryside.