#lannisters are a mess of beautiful things

[captainelliecomb]

I decided it was Jaime Lannister Heartbreak Hour here. Sharing so it can be the same for all of you.

[sapphire-writes]

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 7 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: Aemond realizes he messed things up with you and attempts to reconcile at the summer carnival.

word count: 5.5k

rating: Mature/Explicit/18+

warnings below the cut!

warnings: language, exhibitionism, oral (fem-receiving), fingering, kissing

note: im starting to become obsessed with them ngl 🧍🏻‍♀️

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

as always, comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated but not expected ❤️

AEMOND POV

Aemond knew he had fucked up.

Royally, fucked up.

Something he finds himself doing quite often. It had been several days since the hot tub incident. Several days since he’d last spoken to her. Aemond glances at his phone again, watching the time change as Helaena hurries down the stairs.  

“Morning,” she calls, tossing her phone onto the couch and stretching her arms above her head with a satisfied sigh.

“It’s noon,” Aemond tells her.

“Where’s Y/N?” Helaena asks, sliding onto the couch next to him. 

She lets her feet hang off the edge of the armrest, her neck straining over the cushion as though she’s about to topple off of the sofa altogether. It looks quite uncomfortable, and wildly different from Aemond’s rigid posture as he frowns over his phone. 

“How should I know?”

“You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?” Helaena muses, playing with a strand of her hair, “You usually have your companions over more frequently, if I recall.”

Trying to, Aemond thinks to himself, his jaw clenched. If she’d return my calls.

“She’s upset with me,” Aemond admits, tossing his phone to the side. It’s always been hard to keep the truth from Helaena.

Helaena makes a noise of contempt.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll fix it. You’re clever that way,” Hel encourages, “Perhaps a grand gesture of sorts? Something Austen-esque.” 

A phone buzzes on the sofa. Aemond checks his anyway, though he knows it’s Hel’s as she reaches for it. 

“It’s whatever,” Aemond lies through his teeth, “Plenty of girls around for the summer.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Helaena says, twisting her body so she’s upright on the couch, “Can you calm down the fuckboy-sona for five fucking minutes?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Aemond says, shrugging.

Helaena rolls her eyes. 

“Okay Egg,” she says with a sneer, “Manwhoring doesn’t look good on you Aem. It’s not in your nature. Doesn’t suit you at all.”

“Suits my cock just fine,” he says, causing Helaena to make a face of disgust. 

“Gross,” she says, nose still scrunched, “It’s not you.”

Aemond doesn’t answer. Just glances at his phone again. The time greets him, but no other notifications. He opens Instagram, trying to avoid Helaena’s piercing gaze. As the app opens, he notices your profile picture, signifying you’ve posted a story. He shamelessly clicks on it, revealing you were at Seasnake Scoops seven minutes ago. 

Perfect. 

“Are you in the mood for ice cream?” Aemond asks, changing the subject and rising from the couch. 

Helaena’s frown deepens. 

“Aemond-”

“Hel, unless you’re saying yes or no to ice cream, just drop it,” he snaps, moving quickly to leave the room. 

“Oh fuck you,” Helaena says, rising from the couch and following him, “You’re just scared Aemond! Fucking scared.”

He hears every word, though he pretends he doesn’t as the front door slams shut behind him, leaving Helaena alone in the house.

 The last time Aemond Targaryen was in Seasnake Scoops it was not a pleasant experience. He’d been around thirteen years old at the time, and Aegon had assured him that Cece Lannister was waiting, expecting a date with him. 

Aemond remembered how nervous he felt. Though Cece wasn’t his cup of tea, she was beautiful, smart, and held the social status and respect that Aemond craved. A date with Cece was sure to turn the tide for him.  

He’d waited all afternoon for her. Seated at a table, knee bouncing uncontrollably with nerves. As people wandered in and out, the lady lion never made an appearance. It was Rhaenyra who found him as the sun began to set, seated on the curb outside the ice cream shop.

It had all been a joke, he’d realized once he entered the house. Aegon was in stitches until his mother smacked him upside the head and yelled at him. Aemond had stayed solemn, walking straight to his room without speaking.

They are always going to laugh at you, he thought to himself. 

Standing outside the ice cream shop left a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Seasnake Scoops was unopposing in itself; it was the memories that haunted it. A small ice cream shop with some tables outside, with blue and white umbrellas offering some shade. There was indoor seating as well with air conditioning. 

Aemond stared at the people in line to order, scanning the small crowd for you. The nervous feeling returned being surrounded by all these people, remembering Cece.

Until he saw her.

She had turned her head, reaching for some napkins as the cashier handed her a soft serve twist in a cone covered in rainbow sprinkles. She smiles politely, thanking them before licking a stripe up the side of the frozen treat. There’s something so sweet about the way her eyes light up, Aemond finds himself smiling as she licks her lips. 

She turns to leave the line and his eye meets hers. It’s as though someone switches off the light behind her eyes completely. 

Cold is the only way to describe the look she awards him, as her mouth falls into a straight line. Aemond only holds her gaze for a moment before she looks towards the ground and begins to quicken her pace. But Aemond is faster.

“Y/N,” he calls, blocking her path back up the stairs inside. 

She sighs, avoiding his gaze, assessing whether or not she can squeeze around him.

“Move,” she tells him.

“You’re not answering my texts,” he says, confusion evident in his voice, “Or my calls.”

“Yeah,” she says, “Maybe you should take the hint.”

“I haven’t heard from you all week.”

“I’m trying to eat my ice cream Aemond,” she tells him, “What are you stalking me now?”

“Viewing an Instagram story is hardly a punishable offense,” he tells her.

“Just a reminder to block you later,” she tells him.

Aemond’s heart sinks at her words. There’s no playful banter in her tone, no note of excitement. She’s deadly serious. 

“Goodbye,” she tells him, moving past him.

You’re losing her, he realizes. Do something. 

“I didn’t mean it,” Aemond says suddenly, “Y/N, I didn’t mean what I-”

“You know what, Aemond?” she says, her gaze icy, “I don’t care what you meant or didn’t mean. I care about what you said.”

Aemond’s chest tightens at her words. She’s standing tall, the ice cream beginning to drip down the cone between her small fingers. She ignores it if she even notices, but Aemond’s eye follows the sticky river beginning to form. He gets a sudden urge to lick the mess from her hand and pull her towards him covering her in sticky kisses. 

Seven hells. Stop it. 

Aemond blinks as she turns away, before giving him one last lingering look.

“Will is waiting for me,” she tells him, and the ache in his chest grows.

“Will?” he asks, the one-syllable tasting like poison on his tongue.

“Yes, Will,” she says, annoyance in her tone, “People who like each other go on dates. They date each other. I know that must be a foreign concept to you.”

Aemond says nothing, just clenches his teeth so tightly together his jaw begins to ache.

“Maybe give Floris a ring or one of your other friends. I’m sure there’s someone convenient for you,” she says, turning and walking away. 

Aemond lets her go, watching as she goes inside Seasnake Scoops, the door slamming shut behind her. The second time in his life he’s been left alone there. 

READER POV

“You can’t do this!” Baela’s voice calls from the hallway, “You can’t make me!”

You quickly leap out of bed at the sound of your best friend’s distress, opening the door and flying down the stairs. After your run-in with Aemond, you’d returned to your room to sulk for the majority of the afternoon. 

Baela stands below, arms crossed, tear tracks running down her cheeks. Rhaenys stands in front of her, hands folded, a stern expression on her face.

“Baela, it is one dinner-”

“It’s always one dinner,” Baela says, through her teeth, “One dinner, then another, then ‘we have to all go together Baela, as a family’,” she deepens her voice to the likeness of her father, “Like I want to go to that stupid gala and pretend everything is fucking fine!”

Rhaenys moved forward, taking Baela’s hands in her own.

“You’re angry,” she says to her softly, “You have every right to be. But don’t shut him out, dōna jorrāelagon (sweet love). Not when he’s finally trying.”

“For her,” Baela says, quietly, “He’s trying for her.”

“Rhaenyra is trying as well,” Rhaenys assures her, “You are not replacing your mother by letting her in.”

Baela yanks her hands away, angry tears spilling from her eyes. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. 

“I can’t forgive him,” Baela insists, “I can’t do it. I can’t forgive her either.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Rhaenys says, “I’m asking you to try.”

“This is me trying,” Baela snarls, “Staying away, letting them play happy family! That is me trying!”

Rhaenys purses her lips.

“Laena would-”

“Don’t,” Baela warns, shaking her head, “Don’t you dare.”

Her voice has dropped to a whisper. Rhaenys sighs, looking toward the floor. The tension between grandmother and granddaughter could be cut with a knife. Rhaenys looks back at Baela, drinking in her angered expression.

“You’re so much like her,” Rhaenys muses softly, before reaching out and stroking her cheek, “Full of so much fire.”

“I’m not going,” Baela insists.

“You are,” Rhaenys says, “I’ll hear no more of it. You can go to the carnival after.”

“Y/N will be all alone!” Baela says, pointing at you.

Rhaenys gives you an unimpressed look, but you nod quickly. Anything to help your best friend. 

Though Rhaenys doesn’t look like she buys it for one second.

“I’m sure Y/N will be fine for a couple of hours,” Rhaenys says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“She’s going to get lost,” Baela says, and you agree. 

Rhaenys gives you a stern glance, one only a grandmother can deliver. Baela loops her arm through yours, holding her chin high. You crack first under Rhaenys glare. 

“I’m sure I’ll be okay for a little bit,” you say quietly. 

Rhaenys smiles at her success as Baela drops your arm with a groan. You give her an apologetic smile, knowing you’ve doomed her to another dinner with her father and stepmother.

You arrive at the carnival just as the sun goes down. It’s already crowded with people, the lights from all the rides making everyone glow with neon colors. The smell of fried food and the sound of laughter fills the air as you wade through the sea of people. You decided on a simple baby blue sundress, styling your hair off of your shoulders. It’s been so hot recently, you can’t stand the feeling of having your hair down.

You glance at your phone, though Helaena has yet to respond. You promised you’d meet her at the main ticket stand. 

The minutes tick by and you’re still standing with a rope of red tickets when your phone buzzes letting you know that Helaena had fallen asleep after losing track of time. You sigh, checking your other messages. There’s one from Will asking to meet up later paired with an emoji of a Ferris wheel. 

You want to smile, but your stomach turns instead. You can’t help but think of Aemond. Will is nice, very sweet, but it was evident after your ice cream date that you don’t have much in common. And there’s no spark.

When you told Baela, she’d raised an eyebrow at you.

“Spark?” she questioned.

“You know,” you tell her, talking with your hands as you tried to explain, “That feeling just, deep in your gut. Like being pulled to another person. Something that just feels…..right.”

That wasn’t there with Will. And you couldn’t fake a spark.

You sigh, tilting your head back and looking around, trying to determine what you should get to snack on while waiting for Helaena. A booth advertising fried Oreos piques your interest before a tall silver head catches your eye.

Something in your gut tightens with an intense need as you watch Aemond say something to Aegon. He’s wearing all black, as he often is. It’s as though Aemond is allergic to color. He hasn’t seen you yet, and you don’t know whether you hope he does or doesn’t.

You need to be firm, to hold the boundary you set with him. He doesn’t get to disrespect you like that. No matter how attracted to him you are. You may like Aemond- you may like fucking Aemond- but you love yourself more. 

His head turns and you look away before meeting those violet and blue eyes. You don’t know how strong your resolve will be if he looks at you again.

“Having fun?” a voice calls, causing you to turn and meet the sapphire eyes of Floris Baratheon.

She looks gorgeous, though you can’t imagine a time when she doesn’t; clad in a skin-tight green dress with her dark curls pulled into a high ponytail. You force a smile as she walks closer, a concerned look in her cobalt eyes. Classic mean girl, Helaena had called her. She certainly looks the part but then again, all beautiful people do. 

“Not really,” you admit, feeling your chest tighten.

“Me either,” she agrees, smiling softly, “Ellyn ditched me to hook up with Eddie Karstark behind the tilt-a-whirl. Can you believe?”

“That sucks,” you tell her. You hadn’t met Ellyn, but you’d seen her around the country club.

She gives you another small smile, following your gaze and landing on Aemond. Her smile drops as her lips form a tight line.

“Is he giving you the run around too?” she asks, looking back at you.

You can feel your cheeks warm with embarrassment. 

“Something like that,” you admit, letting your eyes fall to your feet. 

“I’m sorry,” Floris says, “Seriously. It fucking sucks.”

“It’s my own fault,” you tell her, “I made things messy.”

“Aemond makes things messy,” Floris insists, “I don’t think he can help it. He’s emotionally stunted.”

“I think you’re right,” you agree. 

Floris grabs your hand.

“C’mon,” she says, tugging you along.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Funnel cake,” she says, leading you through different booths, “We need funnel cake and then we need to shoot something. Or throw darts. Or both.”

You giggle and nod in agreement, letting her pull you along.

After eating all the funnel cake your body can handle and playing several rounds of balloon darts (something Floris is scarily good at) you make your way toward the Ferris wheel. It’s huge, the largest attraction at the carnival, with roomy compartments holding small groups of people.

Floris stops in front of it, glancing at you nervously. The change in demeanor makes your eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

“What is it?” you ask. 

Floris’s cheeks turn a bright pink as she sighs, wetting her lips. 

“Have you….heard any rumors about Aemond and me?” she asks, “or Aemond and my sisters?”

No of course not, you think to yourself. Cause that would be crazy, an incestuous orgy of beautiful girls and the ethereal man who fucks like a god? No fucking way.

You’d tried very hard not to think about that.

“No,” you tell her, shaking your head, “What rumor?”

Floris seems unconvinced by your white lie. 

“People are gross,” she says, cheeks still darkened with blush, “Look nothing happened. It’s just-” she sighs, “The Ferris wheel is a very romantic spot.”

“Okay,” you tell her.

She nervously chews her lower lip, batting her lashes up at the Ferris wheel. 

“So Aemond invited me to ride with him last summer,” she says, shaking her head, “And he kissed me because guys do that when they take you on the Ferris wheel.”

A kiss. An innocent, sweet little kiss. That’s all it was. Your heart hammers in your chest thinking of Aemond asking Floris, the romantic gesture of it all.

“That’s really sweet,” you tell her, smiling.

“It was,” she agrees, “Until I found out he did the same thing with Cassandra, Ellyn, and Maris.”

Oh. Well, there it is.

“Well, I mean Maris didn’t end up kissing him,” Floris corrects herself, “But Cass and El did. And do you know what Aemond told me when I confronted him about it?”

You shake your head.

“He said I was the best kisser. And if I wanted to be friends with benefits for the summer, that would be cool,” she says, crossing her arms, “I was so naive. So fucking flattered that of course, I agreed. I mean, who says no when Aemond Targaryen says he wants to fuck you?”

She bites the tip of her tongue, as though reminiscing just what fucking Aemond entails before shaking her head. 

“Aemond Targaryen holds his own private kissing contest, and now I’m stuck with the rumor I had an orgy with my sisters,” she groans, “Fucking perfect.”

Damn. You can’t help but feel bad for Floris. That’s a skeevy thing Aemond did. She’s looking up at the Ferris Wheel as though she wants to melt it with lasers shooting from her eyes. You’ve begun to like Floris over the course of this evening. She could’ve been rude to you, mean even. You were fucking her ex-situationship after all.

But instead, she’d seen you upset and spent the rest of the evening with you. It’s your turn to return the favor. 

“Ferris wheel orgy,” you say, matter-of-factly, “If anyone believes that, they’re fucked in the head. Totally not enough room in those carriages for all that” You wave your arm around for emphasis.

Floris bursts out into a laugh, reaching to cover her mouth with her hand. You can’t help but laugh along with her. Floris Baratheon is a-okay in your book. 

“It’s fucking ridiculous,” she says snickering, “Guys will believe anything.”

“They’ve got holes in their brains,” you assure her.

Floris continues to laugh, shaking her head and wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. It feels good to laugh with her and forget about the drama surrounding you for a moment. 

“For sure,” she agrees, “Ugh. Do you want to go on? I promise no kissing, and no orgies.”

You laugh again at her joke. 

“Sure,” you tell her with a smile.

You walk up to the operator of the Ferris wheel and hand him your last two tickets. Everyone has exited the Ferris wheel, so you get in the first compartment. You move forward scooting onto one of the benches as Floris digs in her purse.

“Shit, I’m out!” she says with a groan, “I’ll go grab more, be right back!”

She flies down the stairs, hurrying over to the ticket booth. You glance at the conductor, knowing you must be holding up the line.

“Do you mind waiting?” you ask.

The twenty-something-year-old looks as if he’d rather be diving headfirst off a cliff than operating this ride, but he sighs dramatically and nods at your request. You clasp your hands in your lap when someone else enters the compartment and sits in the seat across from you. 

Aemond.

“Out,” you tell him, frowning, “Seriously, Aemond I thought I was clear.”

“We need to talk,” Aemond insists.

“We talked at Scoops, I have nothing left to say to you,” you insist, before changing your mind, “You know what? Actually, I do. Kissing Floris and her sisters? Really?”

You swear Aemond’s cheeks flush, and he glances away momentarily, before reaching out and snapping toward the attendant. 

“$50 to send us up now,” he tells him, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a fifty-dollar bill. 

Your eyes widen. 

“Aem-”

“And $50 more to stop us at the top. Fifteen minutes, tops,” Aemond finishes, adding another fifty between his slender fingers. 

The attendant’s eyes bug out of his head as he takes the money, shutting the door of the carriage. 

“No!” you say, watching the attendant return to the podium, “No! Dude, what about my friend? We have to wait for her!” Your voice is several pitches higher than you like, but it's due to being alone with Aemond. 

The attendant raises an eyebrow at you.

“Got fifty bucks?” he asks.

Your eyebrows lift in shock.

“No!” you squeak, panic bubbling in your throat.

The attendant shrugs, throwing the handle forward making the Ferris wheel begin to move. Your jaw drops as you slowly begin to ascend and watch in horror as Floris returns, her expression mirrors yours as she notices Aemond in the carriage with you. You clutch the edge of the compartment, leaning over the edge as you start moving farther from the ground.

“Asshole!” you yell down to the attendant before sinking into your seat and crossing your arms and legs. 

Aemond sits silently, though you know he must be gleeful about getting you alone. The compartments below you are empty, you’ve been sent up alone. 

“Y/N,” he says, but you don’t look at him. 

You just look over the side of the carriage at the rest of the carnival as everything begins to grow smaller and smaller. You can see the country club, the golf courses, the tents being set up for the gala. The lights from Driftmark and Dragonstone are even visible in the distance.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

That gets your attention. You whip your head towards him, watching him leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. You still don’t speak. Too angry, too hurt, too humiliated to say anything. Your brows are knit together, lips pressed into a tight line. No tears tonight, you cried enough over him. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “I never should have spoken to you that way, or said those horrible things. It was disgusting and inexcusable.”

Aemond wets his lips. The Ferris wheel comes to a stop as you reach the top, the compartment swinging gently with the force of the brakes. You uncross your arms, steadying yourself. 

“I haven’t been that vulnerable with anyone in a long time,” he admits, “That’s not an excuse, believe me, that doesn’t excuse what I said, but I-” he runs a hand through his hair, struggling to find the words, “You were right.”

You want to remain silent as that violet eye watches you. Surely you can sit for fifteen minutes of silence. You cross your arms once more, trying to remain strong. 

“About what?” you ask, cursing yourself.

The corner of Aemond’s mouth twitches, and something tugs in your chest as it does. You dig your nails into your bicep, trying to ground yourself. If you look at him too long, you’re afraid you’ll float away. 

“About you growing on me,” he says softly.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. You don’t know when this started, really. But since the hot tub something changed. Something inside you clicked, and suddenly you can’t look at Aemond Targaryen without wanting to kiss him.

“I don’t like…feeling out of control,” he admits, lacing his fingers together, “And you make me feel…fucking crazy.”

You want to believe him. You do. But Floris is on the ground below, and she was in the same position you were. Believed Aemond cared about her. As Aemond’s walls begin to let some light in, you can feel your own going up.

“How am I supposed to believe that?” you tell him, arms still crossed, “You said it yourself, you fuck, you talk like that, but you don’t get feelings. It’s one of your rules.”

“I’m figuring out none of those rules apply to you,” he says, observing you carefully.

You shake your head. 

“I don’t think I believe you,” you tell him, “I don’t know if I can believe you.”

“I haven’t been the best person,” Aemond admits, “I’ve hurt people because I was hurting. I don’t…I don’t want to hurt you.”

His fingers are laced together and he braces his forehead on his clasped hands. 

“I can’t,” you tell him softly, “Aemond I can’t.”

You don’t want to get hurt. Don’t want him to hurt you more than he already has. If you let him in deeper, it’s going to be so much more painful than it already has been. Aemond looks up, resting his chin on his hands. His gaze is soft, and a breeze rolls through causing you to shiver. 

“Let me show you,” he says softly, “Please. What can I do? I’ll do anything.”

Aemond’s hands are outspread, a pleading gesture. How could he prove himself? If he really wants to change, for the better. 

“Apologize to Floris,” you say suddenly, “She deserves it. All her sisters do.”

“Done,” Aemond answers immediately.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, “I don’t know if I want to do this with you anymore.”

“Let me show you how sorry I am,” he says, kneeling forward on the floor; the compartment shakes with the movement.

Your cheeks flush when you realize what he intends to do.

“Aemond-” you say as his hands brush over your thighs, pushing your dress up.

You look over the side of the compartment, eyes wide. You’re all the way at the top, looking over everyone else. No one can see, and yet you’re dangerously exposed at the top of the Ferris wheel. Adrenaline courses through your veins, and your heart beats wildly in your chest as Aemond’s fingers curl along your panties. 

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he murmurs, dragging the fabric down. You lift your hips to assist him.

It’s almost unconscious, the way your body reacts to him. He plays your body like an instrument; every touch has you melting into him, bending to his wishes. Aemond removes your panties, placing them in his pocket for safekeeping. His violet eye watches you, waiting for what you say next. You bite your lip in desperation, trying to ignore the feeling of his hand under your ass, keeping your center propped off the seat. 

He holds you with ease, letting his other hand slip under your opposite thigh. It’s driving you crazy. He’s driving you crazy. 

“Y/N,” he says, voice a desperate whine, like it’s taking everything in him not to bury his face in your pussy. 

You’re already wet, you can feel it. There’s no use, you can’t ignore the feeling in your chest, the desperate ache between your legs. You want him, you need him so bad you feel like you might go insane without his lips on you. 

“Please,” he whispers, so low you almost miss it, “Please Y/N.” You can feel his hands trembling against you, as though he’s ready to snap.

“Yes,” you tell him, and with a desperate growl, he dips his head below your skirt.

His mouth glues itself to your dripping slit, tongue diving between your folds as you bury your hands in his hair. You sling your legs over his shoulders, desperate to push him deeper, and harder against you, especially as his tongue moves to circle your entrance. 

“Fuck,” you mewl as the warm, wet muscle dips inside of you, and Aemond moans-fucking moans-as he moves it in and out. 

Your heels are digging into his toned shoulders, nails raking against his scalp but if it pains him, Aemond doesn’t let it show in the slightest. He’s simply devouring you, groaning with every shudder and stifled moan you award him. With every movement of his head, his nose rubs pleasantly against your clit, sending waves of pleasurable warmth coursing throughout your body. 

Aemond pulls away suddenly, his mouth shining with your arousal, as he brings his fingers to his mouth and begins sucking on them. He meets your eyes before dipping his head down again between your thighs, fingers replacing his tongue and stretching into you. He curves them upwards against your tender, spongy walls, and your spine arches off of the seat, mouth falling open in pleasure. 

“Fucking missed this pussy,” he groans, lazily fingering you before bringing his mouth to the apex of your thighs.

His tongue swirls around your needy clit and you can feel your stomach tightening. 

“Forgive me,” he murmurs, placing a kiss on top of your clit before swirling his tongue around it once more.

“That’s not fair,” you answer, breathlessly, “Oh my fucking-oh.”

You can feel Aemond’s smile against you, feel him flatten his tongue on your clit before rubbing steady circles with the warm muscle of his tongue. He strokes your sweet spoke with his fingers effortlessly, your legs trembling on his shoulders. 

“Please,” he says with a groan, “Please, I can’t fucking stand it-”

“Oh!” your nails dig into his scalp as you clench around his fingers, your release barrelling through you.

Aemond slowly removes his fingers, pressing them between his lips and licking them clean before you grab him by the shirt collar pulling him towards you. Your mouth is on his in an instant and it feels like fireworks have gone off in your brain.

He kisses you ferociously, one hand grabbing the back of your neck and anchoring you against him; the other wraps around your waist, pulling you off the seat and holding you flush against him. Your legs are straddling him and you can feel how hard he is underneath you. You’re kissing him desperately, it's all clashing teeth and gasps as you press yourself against him harder. You can’t be close enough, can’t be held tight enough. It's not enough, not enough. 

The Ferris wheel begins to move, slowly but surely beginning its descent and you pull away, gasping for breath. You’re both breathing heavily, so close you can feel the brush of his lips against yours with every exhale. 

“I can’t stand it,” he whispers, voice breaking as he strokes the back of your head.

“I know,” you whisper back, kissing him softly.

You untangle yourselves from each other as the Ferris wheel comes to a stop, pushing yourself back onto the seat to avoid suspicion. Thankfully, your dress is long enough because there was no time to put your panties back on and you’d rather not have your bare ass on the seat of the Ferris wheel.

The attendant opens the door, none the wiser to what you and Aemond were up to in the middle of the air. 

You exit the compartment on shaky legs, turning back to Aemond.

“Forgive me?” he asks, watching you.

“I’ll think about it,” you tell him, walking down to Floris, who is now holding a half-eaten fried Twinkie.

“Dude, that took forever,” she tells you, “What did you even talk about-”

“Floris,” Aemond calls, walking over.

Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, cheeks darkening as he approaches. But Floris Baratheon doesn’t back down. No matter how she feels about Aemond, she squares her shoulders and looks him directly in the eye.

“I owe you an apology,” Aemond begins, “For everything.”

Her chin tilts higher in the air.

“I was cruel to you when I shouldn’t have been,” he continues, “And I should have shut down those rumors when I heard them. I shouldn’t have treated you or your sisters that way in the first place and I’ll be telling them that as well.”

“Well Maris is in Oldtown,” Floris says cooly, “She stayed for the summer to do research.”

“Next semester then,” Aemond agrees.

Floris looks him up and down.

“Thank you,” she says and Aemond nods. 

Her phone buzzes in her chest and she hands you her twinkie as she reaches between her boobs to grab it. She frowns.

“El needs rescuing,” she says, “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” you assure her, “I’m good, really.”

“I had fun tonight,” she tells you, “Let’s hang out again.”

“We could always use more help on Seasmoke,” you tell her.

“Cool, later Y/N,” she says, “Bye Aemond.”

As Floris leaves you turn to begin walking as well. Baela should be here by now and hopefully, Helaena has found her way down here. Aemond grabs your hand, stopping you.

“You won’t forgive me?” he asks.

“I said I’d think about it,” you tell him, still being cautious.

“Y/N-”

“Look, there’s something here,” you tell him, “Definitely, but…” I’m scared.

You can’t finish the sentence but you read it in his eye too. 

“Go with me,” he says suddenly, “To the gala and the auction.”

“What?”

“As my date,” he says, “Be my date.”

“You don’t date.”

“I do now,” he argues, his voice insistent, “I date….I want to date you.”

He steps closer, taking your other hand. There’s that feeling again. Deep in your gut, pulling you toward him. A fire ignited within you, sparked by his touch. 

“Come with me,” he says softly, “Please.”

You stretch up onto your tiptoes capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s the only answer you can give right now, but the only answer he needs.

OLS Taglist: @talesofoldandnew, @aemondslefteyeball, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @castellomargot, @high-on-darren-criss, @diosademuerte, @padfooteyes, @tempo-rary-fix, @amirawritespoorly, @chainsawsangel, @toodlesxcuddles, @tssf-imagines, @malfoytargaryen, @nina2697, @glame, @joliettes, @yentroucnagol

@grungegrrrl, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

@m1ndbrand, @herfantasyworldd, @sunna-fangirls, @carriellie, @elle4404, @fan-goddess, @jamespotterismydaddy @shessthunderstoms @carriellie @sunna-fangirls @dancingqueen0

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

[zetaaa]

"...even a poor copy of Jaime is sweeter than an empty bed, I suppose..." (ACOK, Tyrion VII)

( for "Lannisters are a mess of beautiful things" @captainelliecomb )

[writingsofwesteros]

I may or may not be living up to this now- https://www.tumblr.com/writingsofwesteros/754143172581621760/the-insane-irony-of-sending-in-this-ask-after?source=share

AU- Alicent has a girl before she had Aegon, so she is the eldest of Alicent's children with Viserys. She weds a Lannister, but her husband dies right before the war, from an illness, and she comes to court just in time for the Driftmark hearing. She's far more mature, having had a daughter with her Lannister husband, and she exudes a far more mature, maternal aura. Alicent is overjoyed at her eldest's return, she is gentle with Helaena and her children, and she gets along well with Aegon, because he surprisingly listens to her. As for Aemond, he was resentful, as a little boy when she was taken from him, his big sister who had protected him, and cared for him, where he could feel like a boy, safe, and not in the way things were with their mother, where she relied on him so much. But seeing her again after so long- she was beautiful. She presumed that being a widow, and a mother, that she would draw little attention with all the maidens at court, but oh, how wrong she is. After the mess in storm's end, the and realm is in full out war, Aemond no longer feels the semblance of comfort he received from the brothel madam- it felt hallow, now. That night he was quietly slipping through the halls of the Keep, on his way there regardless, when he heard it- a soft, gentle humming. He followed it, and found his older sister rocking her daughter to sleep. The babe cooed softly and she smiled, kissing her head and the babe nuzzled against her mother's thinly clothed breast as she dozed, and Aemond felt his breath catch in his throat. A part of him felt silly, for envying a babe- his own niece, whom of course he loved, but he felt a mix of shame and longing to be in her position, right now. His sister never looked more motherly than in that moment- and he wanted her.

His sister rested the babe in her cradle, and began to walk out to go to her own chambers. "Brother," She spoke gently. Aemond hmmed as he nodded in acknowledgement. "Is everything alright?" She took in the sight of him with his cloak on. "Are you going somewhere?" "I-" He sighed. "You are troubled," She rested a hand on his forearm. "I do not blame you- the state of the realm weighs on me heavily. Would you like to come to my chambers? I was just about to go sit and have some wine." She said kindly. His throat tightened as he saw the faintest little dampness on the front of her nightgown- barely perceptible but to him who had trained his eye to do the job of two.

She was breastfeeding. She nursed her babe herself, he realised. "I should like that," He murmured. She smiled, and they walked back to her chambers.

!!!!

Aemond just following with his desires at the front of his mind. He is so bad and becomes completely obsessed with his sister once more.

And when he becomes regent !

[minas27]

Thoughts on Blood & Cheese

spoilers.......duh

Okay so I guess it's time to talk about the scene. I have a lot of thoughts so, hopefully I can get them all out without sounding completely insane.

I'll start with the set-up regarding Jaehaerys. We meet Aegon's heir during a meeting of the small council and my god he is the cutest thing ever. Loved him messing with Tyland. Honestly leave it to a Lannister to have beef with a child, guess it just runs in the family. I'm on the fence about how I feel toward Aegon' feelings toward his son. I don't know if it's coming from the show runners wanting to make it seem like Aegon isn't a complete monster, or if it's actually a character trait that he possesses. Still mulling over the feelings about that.

I honestly don't know what Daemon was thinking hiring those two. Because in the book (and i hate to be one of those people but just bear with me) the plan from the beginning was to go after Aegon's sons, not Aemond. So, the based off the change the show made, it doesn't make sense to me that Daemon would send only one warrior, that being one of the gold cloaks, to kill Aemond.......a skilled swordsman. I don't know, maybe he wanted them to kill Jaehaerys the whole time but, it just leave to many questions.

I also want to talk about the lack of guards. So, from what I know, every single member of the king's guard doesn't always have to be with the king. Out of the seven of them, some will be assigned a member of the royal family. Example: Ser Harrold Westerling being assigned to protect Rhaenyra before he was made Lord Commander. Before Viserys died, at least two members of the king's guard were dispatched to Dragonstone to protect Rhaenyra, Daemon, and their children while the remainder stayed in King's Landing. After Viserys's death, Ser Erryk abandons the Greens and heads to Dragonstone to pledge his loyalty to Rhaenyra and Ser Harrold Westerling ends up leaving the Red Keep after the throne is usurped. So, if my math is correct that left only three members of the king's guard left: Ser Criston, Ser Arryk, and some other knight. Since it's only been a few days since the events of S1E10 took place, I can't imagine the Greens have been able to find four new replacements. This could be a reason as to why the royal family were so under guarded. But maybe this is just me being conspiratorial I don't know. I think it's also worth mentioning that the Greens probably weren't expecting the Blacks to do something like this. When Helaena confesses her fears to Aegon he tells her not to worry because the Blacks wouldn't risk attacking with their dragons so long as Vhagar was there. So that, to me at least, tells me they were more focused on an attack from the sky, not from the inside of their own castle. So, most of their efforts were put toward fortifying the walls of the keep rather than the inside. Again, maybe I'm grasping at straws but let me know what ya'll think.

Anyway, let's move on to the actual scene lol. My god, that whole sequence of events was horrifying. I'll talk about what I disliked first. I think the scene could have been a bit longer. I don't think that 10 minutes was enough. This is a very intense sequence of events and the show should have taken the time to really hone that in. I also thought that it was such an inappropriate time to incorporate humor. Like I did not need Blood and Cheese to act like Dumb & Dumber.

Give Phia Saban her Emmy right now I don't care what anybody says. I could smell the fear that Helaena was feeling and that's all thanks to that beautiful woman.

I understand the gripe that people had with this scene. In the book (not to be one of those people but bear with me), Helaena is begging Blood and Cheese to kill her instead of her children. This is something I'm sure most mothers would do in a situation like that. So to see Helaena only offer up her necklace must have been disappointing to some people. I have two opinions about this. The first is that I would have like to have seen Helaena 'bargain' a bit more with Blood & Cheese. The second is that I also understand that Helaena reacts differently to stressful situations. She tends to disassociate a lot and this is evident during scenes like Aemond losing his eye, Vaemond getting his head cut in half, Meleys busting up from the floor of the dragon pit, and when her son gets murdered.

There's just so much that I could dissect from this scene but we'd be here all day. So I'll say this: I think the way in which Helaena reacted was on par with the way that she is characterized in the show. Big reminder that book!Helaena is very different from show!Helaena.

Also hearing the cutting and sawing sounds was just awful and I'm so glad that we didn't have to see Jaehaerys actually get decapitated. Not only because I think I've kind of become unnerved by gore in TV, but I also do not want the child actors to have to go through that. Now, I understand that child actors have gone through similar or worse scenes and have been fine but honestly why risk it? It's unnecessary and I think that people just have to accept that fact that there are certain things that cannot be translated from a book onto their screens. Get over it.

I think overall, the scene was average. I'm content with what we got. But, of course, there could have been more added to it to make it better. I might post more about this but idk. Lemme know yalls thoughts.

[thepalaceofmelanie]

Martell week: Character(s) of the day: The Sand Snakes (feat Ellaria and Oberyn)

Tag: @adriennegabriella @tashastrange89 @morby @candycanes19 @elvinaa @wingsoftheangels (A/N: Doing some jot downs for this one, Since there are eight Sand Snakes, this would be the easiest way. This one is with a Reader!Stark and using more of the Sand Snakes from the books then the show.)

Character(s) of the day: The Sand Snakes (Feat. Oberyn and Ellaria)

Song inspired: “Teenagers” by: MCR

-When you learned that you’d be meeting the Sand Snakes, you were a bit worried; more so that they didn’t approve of you since you’re from the North. You’re mainly quiet and more introverted but when you speak, people listen.

-Of course Oberyn and Ellaria would reassure you the whole time. They knew you’d be liked but, understood why you feel anxious. They also remind you that it’s normal and you’d be okay. __

-First one you meet is Dorea, she’s knocking off oranges in a tree at the Water Garden. She’s nice to you and really just kept to herself; she’s young, about eight from what you understand.

-At a young age you can see she’s good with her Morningstar. She even offered one of the oranges, to which you did take; it was a good move because the look in Dorea’s eyes showed happiness.

__

-Next was the youngest, Loreza; she takes after Oberyn in the creativity department. You were impressed with how at such a young age, she has the poetic prose.

-She’s quiet and it was Oberyn and Ellaria talking for most of the time.

__

-Obella, was up next. She can swim very good and her partner in crime would be Elia Sand, her one Sister.

-Obella was very beautiful like Ellaria, like the rest of the Sand Snakes, she has her Father’s eyes; but Obella has her Mother’s looks more.

-When Elia came over to you all, it was like the two girls were planning on doing something to you.

--

-Elia (El) aka Lady Lance was found near the pools; she took after her Father when it comes to her interest; horses and jousting. You remember Arianne mentioning that Oberyn possibly gave El her lance.

-She is one-hundred percent that Sand not to mess with. Also Arianne was there nearby, just waiting for El to finish up.

--

-Sarella is very curious about things. She just returned home from Shandystone and was studying her notes when you three found her.

-She was telling you different stories and her notes from the trip. Honestly, you two connected on instantly. By the time Oberyn and Ellaria, wanted you to meet another one of the daughters; you had a hard time walking away.

--

-Tyene kinda scares you.

- She really is a lot like Oberyn and it was just uncanning. From knowledge of poisons, her chosen weapon. Just being one of the reasons, you kept really close to Ellaria. The innocent persona she has up really is creepy at times; you’re good at actually reading people. She was trying to pass persona judgment on you.

-But you find out that she like her Father, also hates the Lannisters...so do you! (Minus Tyrion though, who has helped you and the Starks at points)

--

-Nymeria made you double take; she looks a lot like Oberyn, compared to Sarella. Oberyn even laughed at your reaction.

-You found out you both use hidden blades. That was an interesting time comparing the blades and sharing stories of body count with them.

-She has her Father’s “madness” in her eyes, if you even step out of place, Nymeria would end you in a heartbeat. She’s that attached to Oberyn.

--

-Obara was the last one to meet. She was different look wise from her sisters but you can tell for sure she’s Oberyn’s. She used a spear like he does and also tells you the story about how she obtained it.

-You can’t help but to admire Obara’s strength, even if it comes off a little much at times.

-Obara’s very bright and you got to learn a few things from her.

--

-So you were asked by both Oberyn and Ellaria your thoughts on the Sand Snakes; if anything it was positive; to which they were happy about. You just look forward to dinner and what might happen.

-Dinner was interesting to say the least, a few fights nearly broke out...as most siblings do. You ended up with wine on you by mistake.

-Oberyn had a word with his daughters, while Ellaria took you to a room to clean up and change. You have two good partners with them. They take care of you, the best they can!

- Oberyn and the ones who caused the issue, apologized; you accepted it but you weren’t mad. If anything it reminded you of when you were younger. Back in Winterfell having dinner with the rest of the Starks. All before Eddard, Catelyn and Robb were ripped away.

-All in all, you’re glad you went through with it.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

A Mouse in a Lion’s Den Pt.12

A Mouse in a Lion’s Den Pt.12

Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, implied Rhaegar Targaryen x Lyanna Stark, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister, one sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader Warnings: none Words: 1807 Summary: A blessing comes into your life Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18

Book One of Heir of Ash and Fire

Staring in horror at the mess you had made in the courtyard, Thalina hurries to your side; her face becoming a bit pale when she looks at your breakfast that you had just thrown up.

“My lady. . . You’re unwell! We must get you to bed straight away.” She cups you by the elbows and tries to help you back up from your knees. Your legs wobbled when you tried to make them move, knees buckling inward and your head growing warm as your body swayed. Thalina yelps, forcing all of your body weight against her. Sick to your stomach, you take deep breaths to try and push back the next wave that rises up your throat. You hear your little brother Tyrion calling for help mixed with Thalina’s own worried cries.

You have no clue as to what could’ve possibly made you so ill. You were fine but moments ago.

A memory from years ago is called upon. One that involved your mother in a similar situation. In her beginning stages of pregnancy with your brother Tyrion she would throw up without any notice. She’d be fine one moment then be expelling her previous meal all over the floor.

No. . .

It couldn’t be possible. Well, you supposed it could with how often you and Rhaegar would join together as man and wife.

So soon though? You had only been married for a month.

A baby?

As they escorted you back to your room you felt utterly conflicted about the thought. You guess you were somewhat happy to have a child with Rhaegar. That was your duty after all as his wife; provide him heirs to continue the Targaryen legacy. But. . .

Lyanna.

*

Joanna grins from ear to ear, her hands placed on her bulging belly. “Another boy or girl? What do you think Tywin?” Even though they already had the perfect family with Cersei and Jaime, Joanna was overjoyed to be pregnant with a third child.

There weren’t many things that made Tywin Lannister smile so genuinely. His wife earned that honor. Gazing at her now as she glowed in a motherly halo, Tywin’s stiff lips turn up in a gentle grin. There was no one else he loved more in the world than his beloved wife. Oh he loved his children to an extent but never as much as he loved Joanna.

“It doesn’t matter.” Tywin tells her honestly. He had everything he needed.

“Pregnant?”

“Yes Lord Tywin. Pregnant.”

She always did complicate things. Ever since she was born (y/n) had made Tywin’s life difficult. And now that she was pregnant with Rhaegar’s child it was bound to complicate his plans.

With a click of his teeth he waves his attendant away. Joanna crosses his mind at the moment. Beautiful Joanna that enamored everyone she met, much like his Cersei. (y/n) never was like her mother or sister. She had been much of a disappointment. Joanna’s pregnancy with (y/n) had been a difficult one, unlike when she carried the twins. Plagued with nightmares and pains, Tywin had begun to worry about her very much as she spoke of the prophecies she foresaw in her dreams. Great aspirations she had for their yet to be born child. A queen, she had said. (y/n) was destined to be a queen. At the time Tywin indulged and listened to her, thinking how unlikely it would be and that Cersei would be the better choice for such hopes. She was first born after all. Now Joanna’s words haunt him. (y/n)’s way to being queen was much closer than he ever expected or anticipated. He didn’t much believe in prophecies, but there was just something so eerie about this one.

What was so special about her? Joanna had been forced to stay in her bed for weeks after giving birth to an unremarkable baby (y/n). She had been weak for months after that. It must’ve been her birth that caused the defect of Tyrion and thus the death of Joanna.

He hated denying Joanna anything. The Lannister beauty had been so thrilled imagening (y/n) as a queen.

“Those were just dreams.” Tywin whispers to himself. Pale green eyes lift from the map on his desk and drift to the window that let in the slightest bit of light. “I’m going to put someone better suited on the throne, dear Joanna.”

*

He was still in awe.

Rhaegar was laying next to you in bed, his hands caress your stomach despite there not being any sign of your pregnancy as of yet. His smile was pure and beautiful.

“A little prince or princess?” Rhaegar murmurs in wonder.

“Surely you want a prince.”

Shaking his head, Rhaegar leans back against his pillows and turns to you. “It would be nice to have a boy right away to ensure the Targaryen legacy, but to be honest I could care less. As long as it’s happy and healthy. To think, our child will find a playmate in my soon-to-be sibling.”

That’s right. Rhaella was still heavy with child, ready to pop at any minute. “I hope she’ll be alright. Your mother told me her pregnancies have always been. . . stressful.” It made you worry about your own impending pregnancy. You had heard Joanna had had difficulty carrying you. Maybe it was hereditary. Maybe. . .

Maybe you would perish too.

The thought stuck with you, making your fingers curl against your stomach. What if this child were to be your doom?

Rhaegar continued to talk as your mind spiraled out of control. In through one ear and out the other. Ever since that morning when you found out you were pregnant you were definitely conflicted about the situation. You had never imagined yourself as a mother. Especially a mother to the child of the future king of Westeros. There was still so much you had to deal with. Your family. Lyanna. Could you deal with a baby too?

“Are you alright (y/n)?”

A cool hand to your cheek snaps you out of your reverie. His brows furrow with concern. “You feel very warm. Shall I go get the maester?”

“I’ll be fine.” You try to muster up a smile. “It’s because everyone’s fussing over me. I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed.”

Lilac pools search you for a lie, but all he finds are fevered (e/c) ones returning his gaze. “Of course they’re fussing over you. You’re carrying my baby. A future prince or princess. The pride of the Targaryen family.” Rhaegar’s smile returns as he closes his face toward your own, nose against nose.

Not knowing why, tears burn at your eyes and sorrow fills you. Since meeting Rhaegar your life had changed so quickly. Once your mother died you had lost all kind of loving warmth. Your family had torn you down completely. But Rhaegar. . . He built you back up. His love for Lyanna was a damaging blow, that was true, but you could tell that he did genuinely love you. And maybe it would turn into something romantic like what he felt for the northern lady.

“Our baby.” You whisper.

Rhaegar’s lips part, about to say something but there’s an unceremonious knock at the door. Rhaegar closes his eyes, annoyed that someone has ruined the moment.

“Come in.”

A servant meekly enters, cowering underneath the magnificence of the Silver Prince. “Your Grace, your father has instructed me to inform you about a celebratory feast in honor of the news of your child.”

Mistrust misted his eyes as he nods, letting the paige know that he could leave now.

“I’m surprised your father would do that for us.” You murmur out his doubt. You were already aware that Aerys didn’t care much for his elder son. So why would he throw a special celebration for the news of a grandchild reared by Rhaegar?

“As am I.” A hollowness in his voice makes your stomach flop, or maybe that was due to your pregnancy. You lean over your bed unceremoniously to once again expel the food from your stomach. You dare not look down at the basin.

Cool fingers pull back thick strands of your hair and kiss the hot skin on the back of your neck.

“I should stay with you.”

Stiffly you shake your head, not wanting another wave a nausea to cripple you. You knew you already must appear unpleasant. You would rather Rhaegar leave than witness you in such an unappealing state. “No. Griff would be upset if you missed a meeting with him.”

“He’ll understand.” Rhaegar murmurs soothingly while rubbing your back. “He knows how important our child is to me.”

Oh, no doubt about that. Yet the look you had seen on Jon Connington’s face when he escorted Rhaegar to your chambers was anything but congratulatory. The red headed lord of Griffin’s Roost was most likely repulsed by the idea of a Lannister carrying the child of his Silver Prince. You wondered if Griff ever went home to his land. Since you were brought back from Dragonstone to marry Rhaegar, Jon had plagued the halls of the Red Keep, scowling at every Lannister that stepped foot into the castle. Would he have preferred Lyanna as Rhaegar’s bride? Surely, in his view, anyone was better than a Lannister. But you weren’t like the rest of your family. Shouldn’t that be enough? Why should he condemn you based on the actions of your father; a father that you did not even care for. Jaime did nothing to help their family’s name. He was arrogant, even though he had good reason to be.

If Jon knew about Jaime and Cersei. . . He would use that no doubt to use against you.

Rhaegar, being so intuitive as he is, seems to already read your thoughts. He purses his lips and exalts a weary sigh. “Jon has never been subtle about how he feels. I’ve spoken to him about it many times.”

“I don’t blame him. Even if I am not much like the rest of my family, I am a Lannister nonetheless. Tywin’s blood pumps through my veins.” Your gaze drifts to the soft skin of your inner forearm as if you could see into your veins at the lion’s blood that kept you alive; that made you everyone’s enemy.

Your husband nods in agreement. “Grudges against family name is a longstanding tradition in Westeros it seems. But you are my wife. He knows that I hold you near and dear to my heart. Lord Connington needs to put those stupid notions aside about the Lannister family. You are nothing like your father. Besides, you’re a Targaryen now and you carry my heir inside of you.”

You wondered if that would be enough to keep you safe. The game of thrones spared no one.

--------

TAGLIST:

@esposadomd

@ladybug0095

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #68: GOT, but make it bastards and broken things

Sometimes I have terrible fic ideas. Sometimes terrible fic ideas have me - such as this one, which crawled into my head the other day and has yet to let go. Mainly: what if Game of Thrones leaned into the cripples, bastards, and broken things motif?

Or: What if Tyrion Lannister and f!Jon Snow formed a marriage of convenience?

Aka: The Red Queen Fic

Just imagine it:

Everything happens as per canon, with two exceptions: 1) Lyanna Stark dies giving birth to a daughter whose "beauty matured as she grew older, and its was said that she was more beautiful at age seventy than at age seventeen" [x], who Ned named Rowena after Jon Arryn's second wife; and 2) The Greyjoy Rebellion takes place immediately before Robert heads north.

Things go slightly differently in the Greyjoy Rebellion. Everyone is a little older, reflexes are a little slower, and everyone has been on peacetime footing for just that much longer. Tywin Lannister dies in the fighting, with the Lord Paramountcy of the Westerlands falling to Tyrion. Theon Greyjoy dies alongside his brothers; his sister becomes Ned's ward instead.

Meanwhile, Jon Arryn has died of apparent old age back in King's Landing, so Robert choses to ride from war in the west straight to Winterfell, so Ned can wrap up a few things before being dragged back to the capitol as Hand. Tyrion is dragged along.

While there, Tyrion encounters awkward, angular, but strangely charismatic Rowena Snow in the library. They do not expect to hit it off, but they do, finding a genuine friendship and understanding in each other. It is not love, but it is enough.

As Lord Paramount of the Westerlands, Tyrion needs a bride - and he was already turned down by most of the eligible families of rank while he was still heir. So rather than trod a well-known path, he proposes marriage to Rowena, who is at least tolerable and believed to be the bastard of Ned Stark and Ashara Dayne.

Rowena, realizing it's the best offer she'll ever get, agrees, and eventually convinces Ned to do so as well. After all, there's nothing a Lannister protects more fiercely than another lion.

Canon continues apace. Ned loses his head, war is declared, and Cersei can make very few open moves against her sister-in-law - who is, after all, a Lannister now - or Sansa - a hostage, yes, but under Rowena's protection. The latter still isn't having a good time, but at least she's not being beaten in open court. (Eventually Rowena does manage to get Sansa married off to Willas Tyrell, securing the Reach and her sister's safety.)

The Red Wedding happens, though it is planned entirely by the Freys and Cersei herself, who thinks Tyrion is too weak to do what must be done. No one is pleased.

The Purple Wedding happens. Tyrion and Rowena manage to avoid suspicion by missing the event entirely, the latter being confined to childbed as she labored with their first child, Joanna - though Cersei still tries to point fingers at them anyway. Few believe her.

Cersei's actions grow wilder while Tommen is king... to the point where Rowena and Tyrion realize if they don't act soon riots and revolts will act for them. So they stage a palace coup.

Tyrion, in addition to being Hand of the King, is Regent after the coup. He sits in the small council in the first of these roles and has Rowena sit in his place for the second. They manage to stabilize most of mainland Westeros - Tyrion strengthens ties with Dorne, despite the suspicious death of his niece; Rowena heads to the Vale, replaces Lysa Arryn and Littlefinger with Bronze Yohn, and sends Robert Arryn to be fostered with Sansa and Willas; forces loyal to Tyrion liberate Edmure Tully from the Twins and install him back in Riverrun - but the North and Iron Islands are still a mess when winter descends.

Margery dies of a winter sickness. Tommen goes mad with grief. He kills himself soon after... and Tyrion, his regent, is left as King of Westeros.

It should be a recipe for more revolts and uprisings - after all, it was bad enough a dwarf married to a bastard was Regent, let alone Hand of the King - but Westeros is tired of war. It's now the middle of the longest winter ever recorded, and rather than hoard food Tyrion does his best to distribute it evenly throughout the country. He makes concessions. He rules, allows widows and heiresses and young children to keep control of family estates, fills empty castles with good men rather than cronies, and generally acts like a decent king. It's a nice change of pace for a country so familiar with Targaryen drama.

Eventually word comes spilling out of the war-torn North about the Others. Rowena, being the fighter of the new royal couple, leads a force north and eventually defeats them, less through individual martial prowess than decent leadership and fresh troops

When Dany arrives after winter is over to stake her claim, few wish to join her. She harries Westeros from the Stepstones for a few years, but when she dies under suspicious circumstances - probably an assassination, but she had so many enemies at that point no one can say which got to her - her dragons take up residence on Dragonstone of their own accord, seemingly giving their allegiance to the new dynasty.

Bonuses include: 1) Later historians endlessly debating whether or not Tyrion was the bastard son of the Mad King. The evidence should be circumstantial but convincing and include his children's appearance. A few will try claiming Rowena was the daughter of a dragonseed - maybe even Rhaegar himself - but are less well received; 2) Rowena gaining her moniker Red Queen from her habit of wearing primarily Lannister Red after her marriage - and for occasionally becoming drenched in the blood of her enemies, as when removing Littlefinger from power in the Eyrie; 3) Tyrion and Rowena's marriage being one primarily of friendship. It should take at least a year - possibly closer to three - for them to feel genuine romantic love for each other. It should, however, be the ideal medieval noble marriage, filled with fondness and respect, even from the beginning; and 4) Cersei fading away into obscurity. She's never outright harmed or neglected or even strictly imprisoned, she merely retires to a strict motherhouse from which escape is unlikely if not impossible and fades from history. Her name, for all it is connected for four kings by blood and marriage, is largely forgotten by even those familiar with the time period in favor of Robert's first love, Lyanna, and Tyrion's reserved but unendlessly capable queen, Rowena.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt, just link back if you do anything with it.

Other Jon Snow Headcanons: Aelor the Accursed | Aegon the Adopted | Aegon the Undying | Aegon the Unyielding | Aemon the Adventurous | Baelor the Brave | Bastard of Winterfell | Daemon the Destroyer | Daena the Dreamer | Daeron the Desired | Dyanna the Defiant | Elia the Magnificent | Jon the Fair | Jon Whitefyre | King of the Ashes | Lady Arryn | Lady Baratheon | Lady Lannister | Lady Stark | Lord of the Dance | Prince Consort | Prince of Summerhall | Queen Mother | Queen of Nightingales | Red Queen | Rhaegar the Righteous | River Queen | Shiera Snowbird | Visneya the Victorious

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[captainelliecomb]

Wow, it's hard to choose for me 😍

Can I ask more than one? I mean, about the endless (😭😭😭 crux et delicia) WIP list. By now, Brienne's mother is Dornish please 🙏

Of course you can ask for more than one! I'm delighted you find them interesting.

More from the Endless Works in Progress list. This one leans more toward book canon than show canon, not that it matters much because I played fast and loose with the ages and it starts before Robert's Rebellion.

Brienne's mother survives a fraught birth that ended with Alysanne and Arianne dying. She's weak and heartbroken, but fights to live for Galladon and Brienne.

When Galladon dies, she can't stand to remain on Tarth. Takes Brienne to Dorne, back to her family. Selwyn appoints a castellan and goes with them in the beginning, though he returns to Tarth regularly.

Brienne grows up in Dorne with a mother, and female cousins, and no Septa Roelle. Life is easier for her, though she is still ugly, and large, and strong, so some mockery occurs. Enough so that she worries she is neither the son nor the daughter her father deserves, the heir Tarth needs.

To avoid being sent back to Tarth, she tries to swear her sword to Princess Elia. Instead, Elia takes her to King's Landing as one of her ladies, though a lady who is also a fighter, a protector.

King's Landing is terrible, the Kingsguard do nothing as Aerys becomes more horrific, Brienne and Jaime bond over being young and idealistic, and wanting to be knights from the songs, and how trapped they feel.

As a lady who is also a fighter, a protector, she is there with Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon when the Lannisters sack King's Landing.

Here's a bit from the beginning:

Brienne Tarth’s second clearest memory of her childhood included her older brother, Galladon. They sat together at the top of their second favourite cliff, legs dangling. It was night, dark and moonless, and stars spilled across the sky. Below them, waves hit the rocks in a steady, soothing rhythm.

Their favourite cliff was safe for jumping, it did not have the same rocks stabbing out of the water at its base, and Brienne loved to sit on the small beach next to it while Galladon climbed and jumped and climbed again, but it was close to Evenfall. Too close.

“The water loves us,” Galladon said. 

She was young, not quite four, too young to be out so late, but no one paid any attention to them that night. Not with their mother near death in the birthing bed, and two babies actually dead in their crib. 

“We are Tarth,” he added, “and the water is ours. Listen to it call to us. Listen to it sing its love.”

Brienne loved her brother with every beat of her young heart, every breath in her strong lungs. She leant against his side and listened to the water. Listened for a love song beneath the steady crash of waves.

Tarths were kings and queens once, born of their storm gods, and that blood, briny like saltwater and wild like a storm, flowed through their veins.

“It is ours, Brienne.” His voice shook. “It is ours, and that will never change.”

Brienne Tarth’s first clearest memory included her older brother, Galladon. 

She stood on the beach. He was in the water.

The small spit of sand where she stood was near their favourite cliff. They had jumped five times each without a care for any danger. Brienne was nearly five, and she had only started jumping a few moon turns ago. The first afternoon they’d stolen away together, she’d clung to his hand, hard, and only jumped twice.

She was tired, and her arms and legs ached. She had blisters from the wooden sword Galladon had her use early each morning before they broke their fast, and the seawater stung them. Her hair had come loose from its braid and was matted against her head. 

She was tired, too tired to climb again, but Galladon wanted to jump just once more. She picked at shells while he climbed, stared up at him when he shouted her name, cheered when he jumped, bellowing as he fell, and cheered again when he hit the water.

The wind was strong off the water. The sky was clear, the water very blue, but the air shivered with the promise of danger, of a building storm.

She stood on the beach. Galladon was in the water.

She staggered forward three steps. Galladon was in the water.

She stumbled as a wave sucked sand from beneath her feet. Galladon was in the water.

Brienne stood in the surf, water beating against her bare legs, the water into which Galladon had disappeared, and screamed and begged.

It was for naught, her screaming, her begging, the servants who came running, who plunged into the sea and brought Galladon’s body back, cold and pale, his eyes wide open, his mouth open, his chest still.

The water wanted Galladon, and it took him. The water was theirs, but that meant they were the water’s, too. The water loved them, but that love was a terrifying, selfish thing.

“He’s my brother,” she sobbed and sobbed, “I love him, give him back.”

The water loved her, and listened, but did not care.

Tarths were born of their storm gods, wild and salt-burned and free, but dragons burned, and stars fell, and gods died.

[forgottenroderick]

Character Analysis

THE BASICS: 

Character’s name: Roderick Varmont

Role in story:  Antagonist/Conquorer/Emperor

Physical description:  Jude Law

Age: 49

MBTI: INTJ (the architect)

Enneagram: Type 3 (the achiever), 3w4, 368

Zodiac: Capricorn

INTERNAL: THE MOST IMPORTANT THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER

What is his/her greatest fear?  Being worthless

Inner motivation: To feel valuable and worthwhile, want to be affirmed, to distinguish himself from others, to have attention, to be admired, and to impress others

Kryptonite: being ignored/dismissed, like…not getting his due/having his fears confirmed by outside opinion basically

What is his/her misbelief about the world?  Grind into the dust or be ground into the dust!

Lesson he/she needs to learn:  There are other ways to make a difference!  It’s not just kill or be killed!  Tbh, I doubt he’ll ever get there tho so good luck, world!  Also that you can be valuable without stamping the world w your image!  He might get ~there but the fear of being worthless thing will still fuel his ongoing quest for utter control/making his mark so the behavior will never end and obv that’s super fun #unproblematic <3

What is the best thing in his/her life?  Power and control!  Oh, oops, ig he loves his family too *awkward silence*  No, but in all seriousness he actually views the former as being in service of the latter!  He’s helping his family, even when he taunts and torments them etc, by making them stronger!  And he’s super protective in his super messed up way and tbh the fact that they’re not all daily thanking him is baffling!  But *dramatic swoon* he’s willing to take on everyone’s, even their, hatred and wrath and fear to help them!  Bc if there’s one thing that being a good dad def is, its traumatizing ur kids for life!  Ok but actually the best thing in his life is also the worst thing and that’s the ever-haunting memory of his dead wife who atp he’s sanctified in his memory so she has absolutely no flaws and that actually makes the whole thing so much worse on literally everyone! yayyyy! and obv its still sad bc she’s gone etc etc etc napoleon rotting in exile w/o josephine feels etc except he’s technically still on the top of his game and running from his feels…

What is the worst thing in his/her life?  Fear...He fears nothing!  *cough*  Anyway, it’s def those idiots who’re standing in his way!  But he def lives by the Tywin Lannister code of bring your enemies to their knees…and then help them up when they become ur allies (but never forgive!  never forget!  or you’ll get stabbed twenty-three times/shot while on the privy!)  Anyway, ain’t nothing gonna stand in ~his way too long <3

What does he/she most often look down on people for?  Stupidity, greed (ironies…), small thinking, lack of focus, impracticality, lack of a strong worldview (he ~can appreciate optimism as long as its ~grounded tho, it can even be inspiring, tho he never trusts it he’s more like ‘that’s beautiful if only it could be true…’ sorta deal…but if it isn’t sufficiently grounded, he dismisses it as foolish etc)

What makes his/her heart feel alive?  Surveying his realm and taking in the splendor of all he’s accomplished!  Holding his wives and children *cough* what? no ahem i didn’t mean that i meant…smth way tougher *eyes emoji*

What makes him/her feel loved, and who was the last person to make them feel that way?  His dead wife -- wait waht  No, but its just being loved and appreciated as much as he loves and appreciates – being supported, someone who sees his good traits for what they are, someone who silently forgives his many many faults even viewing ~those for what they are without ever making him feel small but rather makes him feel powerful etc, someone who sees his vision and is a partner in it while allowing him to take the reigns of it and working in the bg to help so he gets the glory which he can then shower his loved one with it and/or at least they share the glory equally that’d also 100% work for him but basically his contribution is super super important and he’s in no way eclipsed and gets to share in his glory w his loved one etc <3 (speaking of, he’s probs sanctified/deified/publically mythologized and revered his dead wife oops), someone who sees him as he is first and foremost without making him feel weak for someone ~knowing his weaknesses??? idk!! tis ethereal but that’s the skinny

Top three things he/she values most in life?  Family/love, accomplishment, legacy!

EXTERNAL: NOT NECESSARY, BUT GOOD TO KNOW AND SAYS A LOT ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER

What’s his/her favorite book, movie, and band?  He’d probably obsessively read the Iliad<3  Tragically, tho, he’d be an Achilles stan *sigh*  But!  He would, indeed, loathe the movie Troy even if he’d generally like Brad Pitt, otherwise.  Honestly, he is probs that one outlier whose in the bg shouting 'justice for agamemnon' too smdh Another go-to fav would be Wuthering Heights bc he’d eat up that tragic irony stuff idk what to tell you tbh.  Modern stuff?  He’d probs enjoy GoT and Succession (Logan Roy, you’re a real one) and – I haven’t seen it but probs House of Cards if its what it sounds like it is?  He’d also really love history and military history esp

Is there an object he/she can’t bear to part with and why?  He’s kept his wedding band/bracelet/ring/earring/sweater/whatever from his first wife and still wears it and always will!

Describe a typical outfit for him/her from top to bottom.  Yknow that super dramatic all-armor outfit Jude Law wears in Legend of the Sword?  Yeah.  That.  If not, some medieval!toga type thing probs idk I just feel like he’s always like tryna look super chill but actually being super dramatic yknow?  Like, a toga looks on one level super laid back its literally just this cloth you’ve sorta wound around yourself, but also its got big imperial aesthetic™ moments happening?  That’s the vibe except ~medieval fantasy~ aesthetic

What names or nicknames has he/she been called throughout their life?  klsdjfklsdjf Your Grace, Your Majesty, etc

What is his/her method of manipulation?  Charisma, persuasion, also – ‘you, fetch me a block!’ usually does the trick, too ;D  (really he does what he likes ;D) so yeah threatening, cajoling, weaponizing his own self-imposed iconography, also that story about julius caesar and the pirates is classic him and imma probably steal it <3

Describe his/her daily routine.  Awakens just before daybreak to watch the sun rise over a grateful world (what? yes he does have a lil thanos in him too shhh) while eating some small snacky foods bc mornings are for coffee and contemplation <3 then he has his correspondance brought by his viziers which, together, inform him of the events in the realm and he gives orders, signs things, sends out correspondance.  some days he will then hear petitions but that’s probs 1) a full day activity and 2) probs once or twice every couple weeks.  he generally will take his noonday repast w at least one of his families/family members for a sort of private take on what’s going on w them, and his dinners include the whole fam – all available wives and kids all together in a dinner time fete weird enough to make even tywin lannister feel awkward most likely ;D

Their go-to cure for a bad day?  Going on a ride through his empire, sometimes w an entourage sometimes in disguise and thus witnessing, firsthand, all the difference he’s made!  sometimes this makes the bad day worse for a bit, if he sees smth he doesn't like, but then he can go fix that one (1) thing and that makes him feel better even about the thing(s) he can’t fix.  sometimes, depending what’s amiss, he’ll throw a lil impromptu get together (read: BIG FUCKING PARTY) and enjoy feting his friends and fam but tbh this frankly backfires as often as it helps but he will never learn <3 also he doesn't usually participate sm as sit up on his throne and watch everyone else??? idk he's weird

CHARACTER GOALS:

How is your character dissatisfied with their life? HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA how is he ~not dissatisfied?????? an ordinary life will N E V E R satisfy and, while you couldn’t accuse him of that, ~not feeling like a god 24/7 is such a terrible, wretched curse that he must bear its so tough being him only he knows this pain etc etc etc sdlkjfakljsdf anyway, basically, no matter how much he accomplishes it will never be enough, he will never be satisfied, never allow himself to breathe and be content etc etc etc it sucks to rule the world

What does your character believe will bring them true happiness or contentment? PROVING HIMSELF BY CONQUERING THE ENTIRE WORLD!!!!!!!! leaving his stamp by making the world a better place and eradicating corruption wherever he finds it improving the lives of everyday ppl, spreading enlightenment, etc, etc

What definitive step could they take to turn their dream into a reality?  well, he’s already taken some but there’s always smth else to conquer <3

How has their fear kept them from taking this action already?  well, in this particular way it hasn’t buttttttt it has prevented him from being the good husband/dad he’d like to be and tbh since his kids will probs be his truest legacy, since his empire will eventually fracture in the way all empires do, he’s really fucked that all up bc he’s too obsessed w his empire and w making them ‘strong’ to actually be a good family man etc. and thus his own cycle is ultimately self-defeating

How does your protagonist feel they can accomplish their goal while still steering clear of the thing they are afraid of?  he basically thinks he’s pulling off the biggest fake out in history faking it till he makes it and thus proving himself worthy!!!!!!!  joke’s on him tho bc he’s royally (heh) messing it all up <3

[jonquildove]

starkmatriarch:

It had been hard going through her first pregnancy alone, being so afraid of every small change, every minute sign. She wanted someone to turn to, someone to guide her and aid her, give her strength, but her Mother was gone and Lysa had never been any great use for calming influences. So she had no one would servants and nurse maids to help through those long nine months. It had been even more frightening when it came time to give birth, the pain had been beyond anything she could have imagine, and though she wanted badly to scream, to scream out with all the agony she was feeling, the midwife attending her would not permit her to. She told her to keep her mouth firmly shut, that shouting would only use up her energy which would be of greater use to the child. So she had given birth in forced silence, screaming through her closed lips, tears of pain streaming down her face and no husband, no Ned to help he through it. The wet nurse had helped her through it, yet she had needed Ned there. But when Robb was finally born and they placed him in her arms, she hadn’t felt so alone anymore. Tiny and wriggling, with little hands and feet that curled into little balls, he was the most perfect thing she had ever seen, a curly mess of red hair, and she loved him so much and was so grateful for Ned for giving her this, that she began to love Ned a little more that night as well. They had spun each other around in happiness at hearing they were to have a baby, she holding her arms to her chin, Ned's smile breaking through his solemn face, she feeling he needed to smile more during the misery and darkness. She opened her mouth to speak of this to Sansa, but the young girl was speaking of the blond prince once more and Catelyn almost rolled her eyes in exasperation. The match was to be made, it had to be, there was no choice in the matter if they wanted to maintain harmony among the seven kingdoms, and the fact that Sansa was receptive to the idea was certainly a welcome relief, but the way her daughter simpered over the boy sent her shackles up. She did not like the boy, and she liked Sansa’s adoration of him even less. But she did her best to reveal none of this opinion. “There will be time yet for that,” She reasoned, “Time for you..to know him a little better first. There is little we know about the Prince after all” But would knowing him better guard Sansa against Joffrey? Warn her? Frighten her? Or was the light of young affection too bright to do anything but blind Sansa to all but his beauty? She remember herself feeling that way as a young girl….it was hard to see through the dreams.

Noticing her mother speak to her with a tone of reasoning and with a hint of caution, Sansa realized that Catelyn must not like Joffrey much, or perhaps the Lannisters, in general. “Yes, but I love Joffrey, mother.” Sansa supposed that what her mother was saying did make logical sense. Subconsiously, Sansa’s hand not clutching the flower, went to the pendant necklace she was wearing around her neck, Joffrey had given it to her and clasped it around her neck himself. She had smiled radiantly, he saying he was sorry for shouting at her when she saw he was injured from the wolf Nymeria biting his hand, his hand bleeding. She smiled when she recalled him giving it to her, and replied, “I understand, Mother…” Of course, there was still a while away before Sansa was old enough to marry, and she always treasured spending time with Joffrey. They were betrothed though, which made marriage a steadying prospect. Father had said the news to her, she remembering how handsome he looked when he arrived, and she was giddy with happiness.

“Oh…and what of my question about Father and Robb…?” It occurred to Sansa that Catelyn didn’t reply to it.

[esther-dot]

How likely do you think it is that ADOS is going to have a very similar trajectory for Dany, Jon and Sansa? Dany and Jon are destabilized when his biological parents are uncovered and Sansa then reveals the information, messing up Dany's psyche and maybe creating even more political havoc than what we saw in the show? I think its logical given Sansa's endpoint as QITN.

Book wise, it has never seemed feasible to me that someone invading with armies and dragons would be viewed as anything other than a dire threat. Jon viewed the FF as a serious threat, and they didn't have flying monsters who burned shit. They were also on the other side of the Wall, and yet Jon took the threat of invasion seriously and understood that it would mean the death of everyone he loved.

Martin does have Jon spend time with and develop feelings for the FF, so we can’t say simply by virtue of being a threat Dany would be someone Jon couldn’t come to care for. However, the big distinction is that the FF have some valid complaints against the North. The J/Y relationship is part of allowing Jon to bond with and see the humanity in the FF in spite of the threat they are to his people/family. When he thinks of Ygrrite, the two sides of her, the singing, the way she smiled and kissed him juxtaposed with how she slit a man’s throat, well, it’s clear that her function in the story is to be the embodiment of the FF. There is beauty there, there is also death. Some of what they believe/live by is incompatible with the North, but, at times she has criticisms of the North and I believe Martin wants us to take them seriously. The FF have a point.

Does Dany? Is Martin saying that things would be better if people would just happily accept being conquered? To him, are we to admire the man/woman who will burn cities and kill countless people in order to rule, or are we to respect the man who kneels in order to save his people?

Also, Jon is a lot more hot tempered than Ned, whether it’s his wolf blood or a hint of his Targ blood, and our good, compassionate Ned said he’d fight Dany and oust her from Westeros. Wouldn’t Jon at a minimum think that? Only, for Jon, this person will seem more threatening because she now has dragons in addition to armies.

I wasn’t a Jonsa before s7, I didn’t even know it was a thing, but I was so flabbergasted by J/D in s7 that I got online during the long hiatus and started reading fandom stuff for the first time in my life. Even for show Jon, the relationship made no sense, and book Jon is much smarter, loves the Starks even more, is angrier and more violent...it just makes less sense for him than it did for show Jon and that made no sense! So, I am very skeptical that mutual J/D could happen. The show brainwashed the fandom with that “break the wheel” line of Dany’s, to justify her conquest, but there isn’t anything like that in the books, so what will be the thing that could possibly make Jon think Dany has anything remotely sympathetic about her conquest?

Westeros is already anti slavery, it’s something we learn very early on in the series at the same time that slavery is being used to fund Dany’s war, and she will be arriving with a man who was a slaver, who Ned specifically tried to chase down, who Mormont specifically tells Jon about. Considering how desperately Jon wants to be a worthy son to Ned and have honor, this seemed like a very pointed effort on the author’s part to create yet another reason for Jon to look at team Dany askance. Dany has an army that, whether she thinks they’re free or not, what will the Westerosi believe? What would Jon believe when she is accompanied by a slaver Ned wanted to bring to justice?

There is so much to overcome here before we even get to what Dany’s actions will be in Westeros ie killing Aegon and burning KL. D&D took a “sacrifice Jon and manipulate the fandom” approach to Dany, but Martin wont, so how could he write a genuine connection between Jon and Dany?

Jon hates the Lannisters, so this could be “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” situation, except, the show didn’t have Aegon. In the books, Aegon may take out the Lannisters, so Dany wont even have that going for her. One of my anons suggested Aegon won’t take the throne, that the Lannisters will defeat him, but that still leaves us with the problems of, ya know, Jon liking a mass murderer. 

If Dany has burned KL and Jon has retaken Winterfell, and he still needs help with the Others, I suppose he could go to her thinking she might view helping him as a way to regain the good graces of Westeros, but that seems like a really difficult story to tell. Like, writing Jon believing that’s possible doesn’t work for me post KL. Jon risking it all to get help, that’s possible, but Jon trusting such a person? Having a genuine respect for such a person? I don’t see it.Ygritte slitting a man’s throat bothered him, how the heck is he gonna be fine with a woman who burned countless children alive?

I know I’ve gotten messages about the idea of Dany going North first, before attacking KL, and I’ve always wondered if that might happen too. If J/D is to happen, that may be the way it needs to go because it would be prior to burning KL, fits in with that idea of enemies becoming friends and not viewing people in a simplistic way, and Dany agreeing to fight with them would be the one thing she can offer Jon that may give her points in his eyes. When Martin wrote about dragons suffering in the cold/not being willing to fly beyond the Wall, it could have been done thinking of Dany going North,and setting the groundwork for why this would be a bad thing for Dany. Losing a dragon would be destabilizing for her. But won’t that be happening with Euron? He is looming large, and I feel like what happens with him and Dany may be the catalyst you’re looking for in regards to Dany’s downfall.

In the show, the big function of Jon’s parentage was to present him as the alternative ruler to Dany and let Dany know, no one would choose her as they had another option. It was burn people into submission or deal with unrest and attempts to replace her with Jon. The issue is, book Jon wouldn’t go after the iron throne which is why I think Aegon will serve as the “the people love this leader and will never accept me” idea. So, book Jon’s identity won’t work as the destabilizing thing for Dany imo, and if Jon had met her/loved her, I’m not sure that her being his aunt is enough in the books to end their relationship as there are some of those kinds of marriages in the family tree. Uncles marrying nieces etc. So the two things the show emphasized...I’m not sure that I buy them playing out in the books. We have the succession crisis brewing in the North, and I think that’s where Jon’s parentage will wreak the most havoc. I’m still shocked the show ignored that issue. So much potential drama just ignored.

Also, if Dany doesn’t go North, I don’t see how she will meet Sansa and how that dynamic would matter at all. I wish the show had leaned into the Sansa v Cersei thing because that’s longstanding, there was so much history there audiences would have really enjoyed a reunion, but I don’t think Sansa would go South again in the books, so I don’t think she will interact with Cersei again, and that means, if there is any interaction with Dany, it would have to be in the North. it’s hard to believe that could happen, although one big reason to think it might is that Sansa’s marriage to Tyrion needs resolution and while that doesn’t require face to face interaction, Tyrion’s obsession with her feels like it’s there for a reason.

I guess I feel like there are hints in the show to what we will be getting, but we can’t base spec on the show because we don’t know what was D&D and what was something they took from Martin and mangled until it made no sense. All the same, I did think it was very very odd that Tyrion and Jon both turn on Dany not only for a general love of their families, but for Sansa. I mean, we all kinda raised our eyebrows at Tyrion bringing up Sansa to Jon, and then when he was bitter about Sansa abandoning him in KL when he sees her in 8x01, and then him bringing up the idea of them still being/getting remarried in 8x03...it was weird, but then he went and warned Sansa about her behavior regarding Dany and then he brought up Sansa to Jon in the finale...it was a very odd choice for D&D when ya know, the need to stop Dany because of the mass murder issue was right there. Those choices went against the “good guy” Tyrion they had created, and Sansa as the motivation for stabbity stab seemed totally unnecessary. Sansa didn’t need to feature in J/D convos which happened repeatedly in s8, Tyrion didn’t need to talk about Sansa with Jon in s7&8. It was weird, so while I don’t see a path for Dany going North, I don’t dismiss it. I definitely understand where you’re coming from because it felt like there was something there that D&D were hinting at. But, if Sansa is QitN and has made it clear they won’t kneel, we don’t need face to face interaction for someone to kill Dany in order to protect her.

It seems more natural to me that Dany does shit in the South, the Starks work out things in the North, and then they have to face each other. But Jon wouldn't be calm about it. In fact, if Jon’s ending is exile, then perhaps that’s the narrative punishment for doing something rash and violent the author doesn’t want to glamorize. I’ve always thought that with the implosion of his life, Jon would likely make a miscalculation in the aftermath. Jon's wish for a dragon and being warned off felt like a seed Martin might grow into Jon wanting a dragon, getting a dragon, and it blowing up in his face, but I still don’t see how the timeline works.

Season eight really did make me worried about Jon being coerced into a sexual relationship with Dany at some point, that fear is ever present for me, but timing wise, it’s hard to imagine. Jon has to wakey wakey, reunite with Sansa, and retake Winterfell; Dany has to wrap things up and head to Westeros. She also has Euron and Aegon to deal with. I don't see the room for much development of a J/D relationship, and certainly not space for them to get over the enemies and become lovers only to learn about the aunty thing only to then be estranged only to then be reconciled only for Dany to die. It’s just a lot considering all the plot they each still have to get through.

Also, Aegon being in Westeros undermines the impact of yet another one of her nephews popping up for Dany, but R+L=J will upend the Starks view of their father. It’s of personal significance to them that their father didn’t have a bastard but did commit treason to protect his nephew, not to mention, learning more about their aunt, so the idea that Jon learns this and it’s about Dany and his relationship feels like a small view of what it means, whereas, if Jon learns about this with the Starks, there is so much fallout and so many conversations and feelings to be had and so many callbacks to the beginning of the series to be made with talk about Ned. It’s expansive, so many angles to write it from. That just seems like a more meaningful context to me, so while I can’t say your idea is impossible, I sure hope that isn’t one of the things D&D got from Martin!

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

Jon Snow Month: Favourite quotes

I decided instead of writing down my favourite Jon Snow quotes to write instead my favourite quotes others said to him or about him.

Bran saw his father's face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow - Bran Stark

The first chapter of the series introduces Jon Snow through the eyes of his younger brother, Bran. His brother watches him selflessly removing himself from claiming a direwolf so all his siblings will have one. This  scene sets up two promiment Jon Snow traits: his unquestionable love for his family and his inferiority complex due to his bastard status.

~~~

“Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.” - Tyrion Lannister.

 Tyrion gave one great advice to Jon which came from personal experiance as  society’s outcast. It’s known that Tyrion has a liking for “bastards, cripples and broken things” so it’s no wonder he took a liking on Jon,too and even offered him some words of wisdom. Over the years Jon went from being offered to be called bastard to use it to his advantage (ex: when he convinced Mance he was a turncloak because his bastard status never allowed to have what he wanted) so I can say that Tyrion’s advice was very helpful for Jon.

~~~~

"You will find little joy in your command, but with luck, you'll find the strength to do what needs to be done. Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Winter is almost upon us. Kill the boy, and let the man be born." - Maester Aemon

Jon takes Maester Aemon’s advice to heart and “kill the boy” is a repeating mantra in his chapters in ADWD. 

And because Master Aemon is that awesome and also his advices have a great impact on Jon I decided to include a second quote from him:

 “The craven can be as brave as any man, when there is nothing to fear. And we all do our duty, when there is no cost to it. How easy it seems then, to walk the path of honor. Yet soon or late in every man's life comes a day when it is not easy, a day when he must choose." - Maester Aemon

I know that Maester Aemon told this specific quote when Jon was thinking to abandon the Night’s Watch in order to aid his family at war in AGOT but it also applies in so many situations of Jon’s life. Because this boy is always facing impossible choices.

~~~

"Mine, as I'm yours. And if we die, we die. All men must die, Jon Snow. But first we'll live." - Ygritte

Jon, who is always thinking the consequences of his choices and even feels guilty for things he can’t control, needed to be told to live the moment. And when he fell in love with Ygritte for a while lived for the present. In was only for a little while but it was a nice break from his gloomy dutiful life.

~~~

[...]Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me "little sister," she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. - Arya Stark

When Arya thinks what her sword, Needle, symbolizes to her she recalls her home and people she loved. Her thoughts end with the most imporant person in her life, Jon , and his rememberance brings tears to her. 

It’s beautiful to read how Arya despite being separated from him for hundreds of miles and for many years still thinks the world of him and also draws strength from his memory. Their shared bond is so beautiful.

[jackoshadows]

I find the parallels between Jon and Tyrion to be underrated (but then I always find Tyrion related stuff to be underrated around here lol). I'm thinking of Tyrion killing his dad because of what he did to Tysha and Jon wanting to kill Ramsay because he thinks he'll marry Arya, I've never seen anyone make the relation before.

Agree. There are obvious parallels between the two. This is pretty much implied at the start of the series when Tyrion says that all 'All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes'.

There are definitely more parallels between Jon/Tyrion than Jon/Jaime. In fact I think the Jon/Tyrion parallels also emphasizes that Tyrion and Jaime are also foils - Jaime the beautiful golden child of Tywin Lannister and Tyrion the not good looking black sheep and unwanted child.

I think the important relationship here is Jaime and Tyrion, that's what the author is trying to explore, that's where the parallels and contrasts are relevant. I think that's a relationship that GRRM will focus on as Tyrion joins with Daenerys and faces off against his family.

The non-existent parallels between Jon/Jaime have no purpose other than to shove through the idea that Jaime is not really a bad guy and by removing all context from his actions, somehow make the argument that both Jon and Jaime have the same morality.

The only relevance Jon/Jaime have is to contrast Jaime/Cersei to Jon/Arya - one being a mutually toxic relationship and the other being a relationship of pure, unconditional love.

There's a reason that Jon and Tyrion bonded so fast in AGoT. Tyrion is able to empathize with cripples, bastards and broken things and Jon is of a similar disposition.

Tyrion and Bran are also my two nominees for being dragon riders. So that could be another parallel if it ends up being Tyrion. (The Dragon has 3 heads). Tyrion gains the loyalty of the mountain clans like Jon gains the loyalty of the Freefolk (And Dany the loyalty of the Dothraki/Unsullied)

I see people making parallels between Jaime trying to rebuild the Kingsguard and Jon trying to rebuild the Night's Watch.... And this makes no sense to me. What Jon is faced with is a gargantuan mess! He has to rebuild 19 castles! There is shortage of food. He is trying to fix an 8000 year old feud between two groups of people. He has to get the wall ready to face an existential apocalyptic threat from an unknown enemy! How is that in any way comparable to Jaime needing to hire better Kingsguard and threatening already beaten down Tully prisoners in order to consolidate Lannister rule in the Riverlands?

Rather it is Tyrion who was faced with a mess as Hand of the King in ACoK. Tyrion's ACoK arc parallels Jon's ADwD arc - right down to having to deal with Janos Slynt. Tyrion is of course older, smarter, wiser, more experienced and more ruthless than Jon Snow. However in their decisions and reasoning, we see similarities in how they approach their problems.

I also think that Jon, Dany and Tyrion have interesting parallels (Third child, mothers died in childbirth, underdog status). We will have to wait and see if that is leading anywhere.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Little Sparrow - Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand/F! Reader

A/N: I sat down to write Sleepy Sex with Oberyn because @wasicskosgirl​ had me thinking some thots today and this is what came out. It’s not sleepy sex but I really hope you like it. Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking. There will be at least a part two to this, possibly more. 

Pairing: Oberyn Martell/ Ellaria Sand/ F! Reader 

Warning: 18 + (Language, smut, vaginal sex, kissing, oral (F! receiving) mentions of blood, violence) It’s Game of Thrones....

Word Count: 3.8 K 

My Masterlist 

Part One 

It was a beautiful day, the sun high overhead, the ocean waves crashing against the Cliffside as you held your arms across your waist. The boats in the distance swayed in the gentle breeze, and behind you the excited chatter of the spectators fill the stands. The lions on the banners seem to come alive as they snap in the wind. Growling at you and causing the pit in your stomach to grow deeper. 

Oberyn was insatiable last night training in the room, twirling his spear in preparation for the fight of his life. You’d escaped with an escort to walk the shit smelling cesspool of Kings Landing to this very spot where you had seen him. The Mountain. Man after man being cut down as his sword sliced through them like bread. His deep baritone laugh sent a quiver through your heart. 

You jump as Oberyn wraps his arms around your waist, his chin dropping to your shoulder. Both of you watching the water. “Why do you look so worried my little Sparrow?” he coos pressing a kiss to your neck. “I am going to kill that man. I am going to get him to confess to raping and murdering my sister and her children. I will win, for Elia, for my family, for you.” 

He turns you in his arms and brings your hands to his neck like that night so long ago. His forehead coming to rest upon your own. You let out a shaky breath, “I refuse to lose you, Oberyn.” 

He pulls away slightly started, “You only call me Oberyn when you are cross or in insane pleasure my love, and since I’m not buried in your delicious cunt, I believe you are angry. Is that correct?” 

You look into the depth of his eyes before dropping them to the ground. “Keep your eyes on me. Never look away from me, do you understand?” You nod and he lifts your chin before kissing you passionately. His arms coming to engulf you completely. 

“You’re going to fight that?” Ellaria’s alarmed voice breaks the moment, the tension in your shoulders returning. He kisses you softly again before going over to the table and taking a sip of his wine. 

“I’m going to kill that,” his confidence is electric and you step closer to Ellaria. Her hand reaching for your own as you both watch him with bated breath as he comes to stand before you. “Are you worried?” he teases her and she scoffs before pulling him close. 

“Don’t leave us alone in this world,” she begs before kissing him. Their tongues twisting together and you feel your mouth water at the site. He pulls back as the crowd roars to life. 

“Never,” he looks from her to you and back. “I love you.” He spins the spear and turns on the charm, the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand. You watch as he taunts the Mountain of a man before him, before the Viper strikes. 

The scene replays over and over in your head. The moment he stabbed his spear through the thick armor of his belly. The way your heart clenched in elation at after so long receiving his most treasured of wishes. Seeing the man who brutally raped his sister and murdered her children confess his sins. Then in a moment, the elation bled like the golden skin of your lover. He was overturned and laid beneath the giant, a breath away from being crushed to death. The gloves the size of two golden pumpkins on a harvest feast table began to crush the head of the man you loved. 

Ellaria screamed, grasping her head in horror, Tyrion standing there in shock. You don't think, running across the courtyard, unsheathing the knife from your thigh, and plunging it through the head of the giant. Blood spurting from his wound as the tip of the knife exits through his eye. 

Shocked, he fell to the ground, dead, Oberyn using what strength he had left to push him off. His face a mess of blood and sweat, left eye wide and dazed. Jaw most likely broken from the punch to his face. The right closed tight and crushed from the thumb of the monster you'd slain. The crowd erupts into outrage as your chest pants and anxiety sucks the air from your lungs. 

Ellaria ran over to you and embraces you as you collapse to the ground before your Prince. His broken body reaching out for you both. You feel his hand graze yours and look into the beautiful brown iris of the man you love. The roar of the crowd fading as you focus on him, feeling him pull you from the water as your lungs re-inflate. 

The maester comes and declares the Mountain dead before you are ripped from the arms of Ellaria and Oberyn by the King's guard. By order of the Hand, you are to be imprisoned by meddling in a match to the death. You let out a breathless scream as Oberyn tries to get up, and Ellaria reaches for your hand. The ghost of her fingers slipping through your own. The Dornish guards coming for her to pull her back. One paramour is lost they would not do if both were to be taken. You fix your eyes on Oberyn as the doors shut in your face, and you dragged away to the dark, desolate dungeons of the lower kingdom. 

Two days. Two days of shivering in the darkness. The constant drip coming from outside as a summer rain drags down upon the concrete walls of stone, driving you mad. This must be what insanity feels like. No reprieve in sight for the unending torment you shall endure at the hands of these Northerners. Footsteps in the distance sounds, and you lift your head from your knees. The golden yellow dress adorned with the Martell suns now dirty and covered in filth. Your beaded headpiece you borrowed from Ellaria is cradled in your hands, your fingers grazing over the beads, soothing to the touch. 

You remember the night of the wedding when you went to bed with her. The way she watched you through her dark lashes as her tongue buried itself in your cunt. You laid bare for her in nothing but the beaded headdress against the soft pillows and furs. Oberyn standing in the shadows watching, his mouth curving into a smile as he takes a sip of his wine. The memory fades, and you look upon the cell door to see the vision of your fantasy, Ellaria, draped in a dark cloak, almost blending in with the shadows. 

"Little sparrow, are you alright?" her voice coos among the harshness that surrounds you. You crawl to your knees and stand on shaky legs. "You look pale. Have they fed you?" You shake your head no and place your hands through the bars, reaching for her hands. She lets out a gasp at the chill of your skin and furiously rubs your hands between her own. 

"Is...is he alive?" your voice is hoarse from disuse, but she knows who you mean. 

Nodding, "Yes, very much alive and raising absolute hell. He has been advised by the master, you know the old fat one who you said made your skin crawl?" You tremble, thinking of how his beady eyes followed the curve of your breasts in your dress. "He told him to rest, but he will not until you are released and in his arms again. He wanted to come here himself, but that Lannister creature refused, thinking he would release you and run away into the night." 

"How are you here then?" you ask, holding tightly to her hand as the other runs across the skin of your cheek. 

"I am like a cat in the dead of night; no one would suspect me to come and see you. I brought you some things." She releases your cheek and brings around a satchel from under the cloak, removing a chunk of crusty bread, some hard cheese, and a small pouch of wine." You eagerly reach for the food taking a bite of the bread and uncapping the wine, taking a large gulp. 

Food had never tasted so good before, the cheese you placed in the fold of your dress for later with the other half of the bread. Who knows how long you would be in this hell before you found reprieve and were rejoined with your lovers.

 You may never see them again. You may never see your daughter again. The gravity of the situation sinks in, and you feel the sob swell in your chest before it breaks free. The tears falling freely down your cheeks as she shushes you, cupping your cheeks through the bars. 

"Sweet love, we will get you out of here. You do not need to fear; Oberyn and I will return home to Dorne with you very soon." You sniffle as she rubs your tears away, pulling you toward her and placing a delicate kiss on your lips. "I have something else for you," she whispers against your lips before kissing you again and pulling away to reach under the cloak. "This is from Oberyn." 

She holds it out to you, and you tremble hands shaking as you reach for it. Hand opening and closing in hesitance before you touch the envelope. The smooth parchment warm under the icy fingers clenched around your throat. "Does," you look down at the paper, "Does he hate me?" 

"What are you talking about? Did you not hear me tell you he is tearing Kings Landing apart to get you out of here?! Why would you think such a thing?" her hands grasp yours, and you look up at her through your tears. 

"I denied him an honorable death; I wounded his pride. He is the Red Viper of Dorne and his, whore, is the one who killed the Mountain. What if he is only trying to save me so he can kill me himself?" Speaking your fears from the last two days aloud made your heart splinter and crack. 

Her hands tighten, "My sweet sparrow, please," she begs, "read the letter. Let it ease your mind and heart." You hear the sound of footsteps down the corridor, and she tightens her grip, "I must flee, back to our Prince, but please do not despair. You will be back in our arms and bed soon." She pulls you closer and kisses you again, slipping her tongue past your lips as her fingers glide against your skull. She pulls away abruptly and disappears into the darkness of the night. 

You retreat to the shadows of your cell as a guard passes the door and sneers down at you, spitting into the cell, "Dornish slut." He walks off, and you let the tears fall like gems down your cheeks pulling the envelope close to your face. The smell of fresh citrus and bergamot drifting into your nostrils, and they flare as your transported back to your first night with him. 

*******

A light mist from the ocean drifting over your heated skin as you looked upon the night sky, stars twinkling like gems, each one unique and special upon the ebony backdrop. You hear the gentle footsteps behind you; he wants you to know he is coming. The Red Viper could easily sneak up on you before he strikes, but every click of his heel is intentional. Your eyes droop closed as you feel the warmth of his chest behind you, enveloping you like a cloak as his arms come to wrap around your shoulders and clasp around your chest. His chin coming to rest upon your shoulder as you drop your head back and lean it against his own. 

"I wasn't sure you would be here," his moist breath tickles your neck, and you shiver. 

"I wasn't sure either, but I can't deny that I want this. That I want you," you slowly open your eyes and turn in his embrace, his hands coming down to your hips. 

"What made you change your mind?" his thumbs rub gentle circles against your waist, and you look up into his russet eyes, deep and velvety. 

"I realized I was only living half a life. Going through the motions but never really existing, until you touched me. My Prince, your touch ignited the flame deep inside me, and I burn for you," he takes your hands in his and brings them to his shoulders and up to his neck. His fingers trailing down your arms and towards the gentle swell of your breast. Breath catching as his thick fingers grazes the edge of your heated skin. 

"Will you promise to be mine then?" his voice, accented and thick, send a tremble down your spine as he steps closer and places a kiss on each of your cheeks, his mustache tickling against the soft skin. Pulling away, he is but a breath away, his lips a ghost against your lips as his eyes bare down into your own. "I am a selfish man; I will want you all to myself." 

"What about Ellaria?" you feel his lips graze your own, and he smiles. 

"Do you want her to join us, my little sparrow?" He kisses you softly, and you emit a small gasp as he slides his tongue against the plumpness of your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting go with a light pop. 

"I want all of you," you whisper, "and that includes her. She is as much a part of you; the moon belongs to the night sky." His eyes glow in the moonlight, and he moves his hands down to the clasp of your wrapped dress, dark blue in color, such a contrast to the warm golds and yellows that surround you. 

"May I see you?" he murmurs, and you nod. His fingers move deftly to unclasp the small hook on the side of your dress, pulling it open. Your nipples hardening as the chill runs across them and his eyes widen at finding you bare beneath. "Exquisite," he lets out a breath and allows the dress to slip over your shoulders and down to the floor. He steps away and circles you, your skin vibrating as the viper prepares to strike. His hands leave a blazing path as the pads of his fingers rough run over your flesh. When he comes around full circle, his eyes have darkened obsidian, and he reaches for your hand. 

Taking steps backward and leading you back into the room. The bed in the center of the room is large enough for five people, and you are sure it has held many more than that before. "Lay on the bed," his voice is low and deep, and you do as your told, falling back amongst the plethora of pillows and rich furs. "Spread your legs," you drop your thighs to the bed, and he groans as your cunt is displayed before him, glistening in the moonlight. 

He takes his time and strips off his robes, letting them drop to the ground in a heap. Your heart-stopping and restarting in quick succession as you see his impressive member. Thick and long curved up against his belly, he strokes himself as his eyes devour you whole. Mouthwatering as he pumps himself at your body bare before him. "Where do you want to fuck me, my prince?" 

He growls before taking a step toward you, "everywhere." You clench, and a whimper escapes you as the bed dips, and he kneels between your legs, looking down at you. He starts at your neck and trails his hand down over each swell of your breast, his fingers twisting a nipple and eliciting a gasp as you feel the coil tighten in your belly. Lowering them to your stomach and down your thighs. Stopping at your knees before coming back to the place you want him most. 

His fingers gliding among the seams and then slowly dipping into the heat pooling at your core. Collecting your slick onto his finger and bringing it up to his mouth to taste. "Seven hells you taste better than the sweetest Dornish red," he moans, and you watch with bated breath as he licks his finger clean, his tongue sweeping out to collect your pleasure. "I want to taste you little sparrow, make you take off into the heavens on a cloud." 

You whine, "We have all the time in the world, my Prince, please, please put your cock inside me. I'm weeping for you," you've never begged in your life, but you don't seem to care as he lets out a small chuckle. 

"You are soaked for me," his finger running back and forth between your lips, making you drench him. "Should I give this little cunt my cock? Do you think she's ready?" 

You nod, biting your lip, and he leans forward, notching his cock at your entrance, his body hovering above you. "Don't close your eyes," he whispers, bringing a hand to your chin, "You will keep your eyes on me this whole time, do you understand?" 

"Yes, my Prince." He smiles as he slowly pushes inside of you, both of your moaning as he sinks deeper into your tight heat, and his eyes burn into yours. You bring your hands up to his arms and squeeze as he moves further in, inch by glorious inch until he's seated fully inside you. 

You'd had a couple men over the years. Quick fucks in the stables or the woods where you once lived in the North. Stable boys who finished before you'd even begun or been too drunk to keep it up. Not a single one had made you feel as full and complete as the man above you. So deep, you could feel every ridge of his cock press against the soaked confines of your pussy. "Does that feel good little one?" 

"Yes," you gasp as he pulls out slowly and then quickly shoves back in. The delicious snap of his hips against yours as your skin develops a thin sheen of sweat. He continues his slow, torturous pace until you are withering beneath him in agony. "Seven Hells, please move faster, harder; I want you to fuck me, Oberyn." 

He stops, eyes widening in surprise, "What did you call me?" Your hand goes to your mouth in shock, you'd never called him anything but Prince since your first meeting, and you worry that you've offended him before his voice drops an octave. "Say it again." 

Eyes never leaving him, you whisper, "Oberyn." 

"Louder," his hips start to move faster but still not enough. 

"Oberyn," you say it louder this time, nails digging into his broad shoulders. 

"Louder," he brings a hand down to rub at your clit between you as he moves faster. 

You moan, "Oberyn," it's louder this time, and you feel the heat coming to a crescendo as he shouts at you again. 

"Louder!" 

"OBERYN!" you scream his name as he pounds into you furiously, sure to leave bruises on your flushed skin as you cum, squeezing his cock and gushing around him. He works you through your orgasm, rubbing your clit in time with his thrust before he slows down and moans above you spilling inside. His cum hot and thick, painting your walls as you squeeze him tight, milking him for all he is worth. He collapses to his forearms, and you exhale shakily, trying to catch your breath. 

He slips out of you and collapses next to you on the bed, his hand on his waist. And his other arm coming to wrap around you and curl you closer to his chest. You take a deep breath inhaling the sweet scent of citrus and bergamot that clings to his skin. His fingers tracing patterns on your back. "Would you come take a bath with me, little sparrow?" He looks down at you, his eyes alight with mischief. 

"That seems foolish, my dear Prince," you grin deviously at him. 

"Why is that?" 

"Because I have a feeling we will just end up dirty again," he lets out a booming laugh, and you smile at seeing the joy split across his face. 

"That is very true, but please, indulge me. I want to lay with you in the hot water and wash your beautiful body with my soap so that everyone who gets within in a foot of you will know your mine." He bites the tip of your nose before smiling and getting up to draw you a bath. Watching his backside walk away, his golden skin gleaming in the moonlight. 

******* 

The tears drip onto the envelope, clenched tight in your palms. The edges cutting into your soft skin marred with the dirt from the floor. You squint in the dim light of the fire to see your nickname written in his elegant scrawl. 

Little Sparrow 

Your fingers trace the letters as you turn it in your hand and dip it below the wax seal, a golden sun of house Martell breaking it. Your hands tremble as you take out the letter unfolding it. Your chest feels heavy as though a thousand rocks lay precariously, waiting to crush. You heave as great sobs swell, and the tears flow down your cheeks, almost making it impossible to read in the dim flickering of the light but somehow you manage. 

Little Sparrow, 

I faced death. I could hear the screams of Ellaria, the light closing in as that monster lay above me, crushing my skull beneath his fingers. The sun peaked through, and I prayed to the seven that I would one day see you and Ellaria again. My children flashed before my eyes smiling and running through the gardens of our home. Until I heard the sound of a goddess charging in battle with a cry, and the great evil was slain. The sun returned to my vision, and above me stood you, my golden goddess. 

You saved my life. I have always loved you, from the moment I laid eyes upon you to the moment I believed they would shut forever. I will always love you. I will tear this shit hole of a city apart brick by brick and kill anyone who gets in my way before I let them take you away from me. 

They will rue the day they touched a hair on your perfect head. The Red Viper lays in wait, my little Sparrow, and soon, very soon, he will strike, and you will be back in my arms. We will be home with Ellaria, the girls, and our beautiful Serena; she will know what a fearsome warrior her mama is. 

I love you more than words can express. Soon, my love, I will show you all the ways I love you. Soon. 

Your Prince 

Taglist: @josepedropascal​ @mrschiltoncat​ @mrsparknuts​ @ghostwiththemostbitch​ @zannemes​ @xjaywritesx​ @oldstuffnewstuff​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @heythere-mel​ @justanotherblonde23​ @artsymaddie​ @anetteaneta​ @lunarthoughts​ @aellynera​ @lucifer-​ @houseofthirst​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @chicken-ona-stick​ 

[sansacherie]

Lmao I saw that post of Sansa being too classist for Westerosi standards. Infact in that thread, Idk whether it was the same user or not they also said that AGOT Sansa even makes Theon look like a saint 😂.

I agree with you all characters in ASOIAF are classist to varying degrees even smallfolk POV like Davos have internalised it to some extent.

LOL, that’s so funny. Honestly, the OP was clearly letting off some steam and wasn’t thinking about everything they were writing.  Like, there’s a reason why you keep your diaries private - because sometimes you’ll write in them when you’re mad, and you’ll say really stupid things.  So I’m going to give OP the benefit of the doubt and assume that if they could reevaluate -  they honestly won’t think that AGOT Sansa is worse than ACOK Theon who,

- Raped Kyra

- Was complicit in the murder of two smallfolk children

- Treated the Capitan’s Daughter dismally; not bothering to learn her name, using his position to take advantage of her sexually, and making light of the fact that her father is going to punish her for sleeping with him.

-  His limp body was being dragged from the surf when Theon returned to his Sea Bitch. The masts of his longships stood outlined against the sky along the pebbled beach. Of the fishing village, nothing remained but cold ashes that stank when it rained. The men had been put to the sword, all but a handful that Theon had allowed to flee to bring the word to Torrhen's Square. Their wives and daughters had been claimed for salt wives, those who were young enough and fair. The crones and the ugly ones had simply been raped and killed, or taken for thralls if they had useful skills and did not seem likely to cause trouble.

Like, Theon is a great character and Alfie Allen’s portrayal of him is tremendous - but he did some pretty messed up shit! Now, whenever or not he is capable of redemption is another question. I mean, rape and murder are pretty unforgivable and the only people who could forgive Theon for that, are dead.  This is what makes Theon’s Dance arc so compelling amongst all the horror and despair. Theon can never erase the worst things he ever did, but his rescue of Jeyne Poole shows that he can do some good by putting someone else first. 

And getting back to Sansa.... honestly, how is Sansa too classist “even for Westeros” when she’s been a hostage and then masquerading as a bastard girl, and thus without the power of people like Tywin, Tyrion, and Tyrells? I’m sorry, but Sansa wasn’t the one who demanded that a woman be stripped naked and made to walk the streets because she wore her mother’s jewels.  Would Sansa be angry at her father’s mistress wearing something that belonged to her mother? Yes, of course, she would- all the Starklings would; Arya IMO would take it particularly badly.  But both Sansa and her siblings lack the sadism that drove Tywin to this; to assert his power over someone with none.

I can do this because I am the Lord of Casterly Rock, and you are nothing but a lowborn woman who was simply lucky enough to catch my foolish father’s eye.

Tyrion resents the smallfolk because they don’t consider him a hero. Some of his resentment is justifiable because a lot of it is the consequences of ableism, but at the same time though - the smallfolk are the ones suffering because of the war. In contrast, Sansa was almost raped by some smallfolk men but we never see her hating them for it. At 12-14, she’s able to understand the desperation caused by the famine. 

In both the book and show Sansa says if she had bread, she would have given it. Essentially, if she could help she would.  This brings me to the Tyrells. So, the Tyrells closed the Rose Road while they were still allied with Renly, thus leading to the famine in KL. To give you a reminder of how bad it got-

What little produce he did see was three times as costly as it had been a year ago. One peddler was hawking rats roasted on a skewer. "Fresh rats," he cried loudly, "fresh rats." Doubtless fresh rats were to be preferred to old stale rotten rats. The frightening thing was, the rats looked more appetizing than most of what the butchers were selling. On the Street of Flour, Tyrion saw guards at every other shop door. When times grew lean, even bakers found sellswords cheaper than bread, he reflected.

Afterwards, when the Tyrells and Lannisters decide to hook up, the Rose Road is opened up and wagons of food is sent up in Margaery’s name. If there’s one thing the Tyrells are good at, it’s PR.  It undoubtedly makes them look like heroes, as Sansa and Tyrion both observe-

Sansa had watched from the castle walls as Margaery Tyrell and her escort made their way up Aegon's High Hill. Joffrey had met his new bride-to-be at the King's Gate to welcome her to the city, and they rode side by side through cheering crowds, Joff glittering in gilded armor and the Tyrell girl splendid in green with a cloak of autumn flowers blowing from her shoulders. She was sixteen, brown-haired and brown-eyed, slender and beautiful. The people called out her name as she passed, held up their children for her blessing, and scattered flowers under the hooves of her horse. Her mother and grandmother followed close behind, riding in a tall wheelhouse whose sides were carved into the shape of a hundred twining roses, every one gilded and shining. The smallfolk cheered them as well.The same smallfolk who pulled me from my horse and would have killed me, if not for the Hound.

"No. She's coming, though, and the city's mad with love for her. The Tyrells have been carting food up from Highgarden and giving it away in her name. Hundreds of wayns each day. There's thousands of Tyrell men swaggering about with little golden roses sewn on their doublets, and not a one is buying his own wine. Wife, widow, or whore, the women are all giving up their virtue to every peach-fuzz boy with a gold rose on his teat."They spit on me, and buy drinks for the Tyrells.

The thing is I personally can’t imagine having the audacity to present myself as some kind of hero to someone because I gave them food, knowing full well I was the reason were starving in the first place.