#(``) sansa stark . rel. eddard stark

[sigilsongs-a]

“ I am not ashamed to say that no man I ever met was my father’s equal, and have I never loved any other man as much. ”

[s0urw00lf]

Bound

“Lion” and the wolf

Jon snow x reader

Summary: you meet Jon snow and immediately take a liking to him

A/N: may be a series may not be i don’t know yet. I hope it is because I’m hyperfixated on game of thrones right now and there’s only 10 episodes per season. Also is it just me who finds season 1 Jon just adorable?

Divider from @thecutestgrotto

When your father informed you that the king, the queen, and their close relatives including you were to accompany him to winterfell to name lord Stark as his new hand after Jon Arryns passing your first initial reaction was shock, they’d never really considered you a part of their family. Cersei was all about blood relation unless married into the family and you were neither. Therefore casting you to the furthest end of the Lannister/Baratheon family tree. The only ones that really accepted you was your father, Jamie and tommen. Joffrey was way too cruel for his own good, there was no doubt in your mind that it is going to be the reason he ends up dead.

”Must I go father, you and I both know me and Cersei around one another for any extended amount of time is not good for anyone within mere miles of us.” You asked, looking at him through the mirror in your room as your handmaiden braided your hair.

”Yes you must, the king has ordered it” he replied in his usual nonchalant tone. You rolled your eyes “when are we to set off?” You asked.

“By sunrise” he replied “I’ll leave you to sleep you’re going to need it”

your father exited your chambers and soon your handmaiden helped you get settled into your nightwear.

Sleep had not come easy to you. The thought of being in a compressed space with Cersei and Joffrey you’d go as far as to say it gave you nightmares. You are a well behaved lady, you know when and when not to speak and how to butter anyone up. But when it came to the queen and her eldest son you always managed to be sent off with the threat of your head on a spike.

Most of the ride to winterfell was spent bickering with Joeffry, somehow the young prince hadn’t learned how to respect anyone outside of himself, it got so bad that you’d ended up calling him an arrogant bastard which resulted in a slap from Cersei and you riding in the back with your uncle Jamie. Only when you were outside of the walls built around winterfell did you place yourself inside the carriage so you could present yourself as the “perfect family”.

You were introduced to the Stark family after your cousins, you’d heard stories of the bastard boy of Eddard Stark who looked more like a Stark than the eldest Stark boy. He was attractive, Robb. Any woman with eyes could see that, his striking blue eyes stood out against his dark curly hair and pale face. But as you searched more carefully you couldn’t find the other eldest boy. Next to Robb stood Lady Sansa who you knew was the eldest girl but there was one missing between them.

You tapped your uncles shoulder discreetly, he hummed without taking his eyes from in front of him. “There’s a boy missing, the second eldest. Why is he not in lineup with his family?” You questioned silently, watching the king and his old friend reunite, knowing their loud voices would drown out you and your fathers whispers. “Lady Catelyn is not fond of the bastard boy, he's seen as a burden to her. Look beyond the lineup” he answered just as quietly. You frowned at that, you knew what it was like not to be wanted by your family. Blood or not, but your father always made sure you were known as his daughter proudly. He wouldn’t ever dare to hide you no matter how high or low born your guests were. How can you hate a child before he even does anything to deserve your hate?

You took your uncles advice looking beyond the line up, and that’s when you saw him, what they say about him is right, he does look more of a Stark than Robb. He was handsome both brothers were but Jon carried himself differently. Like he was waiting to be seen, accepted. His dark eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat, he looked to be observing you much like you were doing him. Your long held eye contact must’ve been caught by your uncle who light nudged you. “Careful little lioness” he warned. With that you broke your eye contact with him to look at your uncle. You weren’t sure what he meant but you knew it’d resurface later on.

Cersei greeted the lord and lady after the king, though it wasn’t as warm as his, Cersei had a way of making every moment more tense than it had to be. “Where’s the imp?” The youngest Stark girl said catching you and Cersei’s attention, she turned around and walked toward you and your uncle “where is our brother, go find the little monster” she said to your uncle. You suppressed an eye roll, though your father was your father he still felt to revel in his younger years, though you weren’t sure how he was able to slip passed everyone and escape to whatever it was he was doing.

Later that evening at the feast you were sat alone, much like always unless your father was near. You made effort to search for Jon, and was quickly dissatisfied when he was nowhere in your sights. A loud shriek broke you from your thoughts “Arya! It’s not funny she always does this” you looked over and almost snorted when you saw lady Sansa with food on her face. Your best guess was Arya decided to use her face as target practice.

You weren’t blind to the looks she and your cousin had been sending each other and you guessed the little Stark was feeling mischievous. You caught sight of the oldest Stark boy cutting his laugh short due to the look his mother gave him, he got up walking over to Arya picking her up from her seat and muttering “time for bed” he met eyes with you and sent you a friendly smile, you returned his smile with nod in acknowledgement.

Farther into the night you found yourself wandering around the castle before dinner and ended up on the training grounds. A low grunt caught your attention, you were sure everyone was readying themselves for dinner who would be at the training grounds this late. It was a boy. “So its you” you spoke, catching his attention, he paused his actions turning towards you with a confused expression before he straightened himself up, “My lady are you lost, i can esc-“ you shook your head “i am not lost lord snow-“ ”excuse me My lady, i am not a lord” he put his head down.

You tilted your head at him “you are more of a lord than i am a lady” you told him truthfully. He stared at you in silence, you looked around not noting anyone else “you are alone?” You questioned. He nodded “yes My lady.” He answered. “Would you mind accompanying me, My Lord?” You tilted your head at him giving him the slightest doe eyes. He hadn’t given you a reaction you expected but you did see the blush littering his cheeks. “Of course My lady, where are you off to?”

”I'm just out for a night stroll, it's good I found you, from what I’ve heard you're handy with a sword so I needn’t be on high guard anymore” you told him as you resumed walking. He followed right next to you “do you not have a guard” he questioned looking around to see if there were any men far behind “much to the dismay of my father, no. I can take care of myself but I don't always like to.” You said moving your goat to the side to show the sword you have stashed.

He looked intrigued by it. “It was my grandfathers i think, my father gave it to me. He said it was the last he could find of my real family.” You frowned. “You're from a high born family, that sword is made of valyrian steel” he said pointing to your sword that was back safely hidden behind your coat. “I am not sure, father won't tell me where he found it, he says he’ll tell me when i'm ready. Anyway enough of me, what about you” you asked looking up at him. “What of me?” He asked. “Do you know your mother?”.

He shook his head “even if i did im not so sure it’d change anything” he said frowning, you hated the crease between his brows. His face showed years of neglect and hatred he endeared from lady Stark and you couldn’t help but to begin to hate her for him. Suddenly you felt no need to continue talking of family, you noticed he didn’t have his furs from earlier that day on anymore. “Are you cold My Lord?” You asked gently. It was as if he had just realized he didn’t have his furs as he looked down at his attire. “We can go to my chambers and warm you, its not very far from here.” You told him.

Jon blushed at the thought “no i shouldn’t it wouldn’t be appropriate, but if you would like me to escort you-” you giggled cutting his sentence short “very noble Lord snow, yes please escort me to my chambers” you smiled, Jon nodded placing a hand on your lower back leading you further into the castle. The short walk was filled with quiet and easy conversation.

You were almost disappointed when you reached your chambers and your conversation was cut short. “Would you like to come in?” You asked, Jon paused wanting to say yes but not wanting to upset lady Caitlyn if she ever found out. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing i sent you off while your nearly freezing” you tried to persuade him. he shook his head “it would not be appropriate“ “Jon please” you begged “just a few minutes”.

Jon sighed praying to the gods hoping no one saw what he was about to do. He entered your chambers and let out a breath at the warmth. The atmosphere in the room was quiet and gentle. You removed your furs having no further need for them at the moment and placed yourself on your bed. “May i ask a question?” You asked him softly. He broke his stare from the fire and turned to you with a gentle ‘hmm’ “If you feel you do not belong here, then where do you belong?”

Jon felt weird, having never been asked that question before he felt taken aback. He lulled over his answer for a few seconds “at the wall, with my uncle and others like me” he looked down to his clasped hands, seemingly deep in thought. Your heart broke for the boy, he truly felt in some way he wasn’t welcome in his own home. “Are you ready to make that sacrifice? To never have a wife, a family. To pledge your life?” You asked.

He frowned further “No woman will wed to a bastard. My life will have more meaning there than here” He said. You tilted your head “i don't think that to be true, i think some time sooner or later your family will need you here, and if Amy woman is daft enough not to accept a marriage proposal from you then she didn't deserve you in the first place.

After that Jon excused himself from your chambers, your words weighing heavy on his shoulders. But his mind was already set, he was joining the night's watch, however that didn’t stop him from repeating your words in his head.

The next morning was when you were finally able to find your father, extremely hungover. “I Missed you yesterday” you said as you came to a halt by his side. “You missed aunt Cersei's fake smiles, uncle Jamie sizing up with lord stark and even worse. Joffrey making eyes with the stark girl.” You rolled your eyes at the last bit. Your father cleared his throat “did i also miss your night stroll with the bastard boy?” He asked.

You froze momentarily, you knew your father wasn’t in a hurry to wed you off, he’d much rather you find love than be in a loveless situation with a man two times your age. But that never stopped him from teasing you about your interests even if its very rare that you have them. “He was just accompanying me to my chambers, father” you spoke looking in every direction but his. He was the only person in the world who could read you like a book. “Ah yes, was he also warming your bed for you?” He turned toward you with a small smile. “You know i would never, i just met the boy”

“love is a fast little creature daughter” he said before walking away.

[goodqueenaly]

Bit of a niche question, how would noble children be socialised with their peers rather than servants and retainers? Bran of course knows the Cerwyn heir very well who is half a day away and has family at Winterfel besides and Catelyn wonders if Jeyne used to be playmates with the squires from Casterly Rock who were murdered. I assume that noble children would occasionally be brought along to big occasions but would there be less incidental ways to bind the next generation early?

The first and likely most common way is probably exactly what you mention - visits between aristocratic families. You mention the Cerwyns visiting with the Starks relatively frequently, given the physical closeness of Castle Cerwyn to Winterfell, but it’s also worth noting that Halman and Benfred Tallhart did the same, as Bran remembers during that same event. Likewise, Arya recalls visiting White Harbor twice with Lord Eddard , while Catelyn recalls visiting the Twins as a girl; neither mentions specifically meeting, say, Wylla and Wynafryd or the many children and grandchildren Walder was already accumulating even in Catelyn’s youth, but I think it would have been virtually impossible for the aristocratic in each such instance not to have met and interacted with each other. These visits not only would give the adults the chance to talk business and renew bonds of fealty or alliance, but also potentially lay the groundwork for future dynastic pairings or continuations of such alliances between their children; in turn, interactions between these children might often be in such situations specifically targeted or formalized as much as they were personal (think of, say, young Alys Karstark being paired in dances with Robb Stark, or Joffrey and Tommen practicing in the yard with Robb and Bran).

(Which is not to say these interactions would always be positive - think of, say, Sam’s visit to the Arbor in his youth, and his cruel treatment by the Redwyne twins.)

Fostering, too, provides a very natural (by Westerosi standards) means for aristocratic children to socialize with peers outside of their immediate families. The examples of fostering throughout the series (and the history of Westeros) are too numerous to list for the purposes of this ask, but it’s worth noting as a very general point that fostered children are raised as virtual siblings with the children of the household in which they stay. While it’s certainly possible for fostered children to be relatives of the families with whom they are fostered, the dynastic distinction between these children allows for early lessons in how to identify, address, and interact with members of other families, not to mention how to (potentially) build friendships - think of, say, Robert and Ned in the Eyrie, or the pro-greenlands King Harmund II Hoare. (Which, again, is far from a guarantee - think of Jaime’s linger criticism of his fellow page and squire at Crakehall, Merrett Frey.)

Nor is fostering necessarily the only way for members, specifically children, of different Westerosi aristocratic families to find themselves in or around other households. Jeyne Poole and Beth Cassel were (and are) not very high-ranking aristocrats, certainly not equal to the Starks in terms of position, but as the scions of (I think) hereditary aristocratic officer families of Winterfell, Beth and especially Jeyne were seen as entirely suitable companions to the Starks, specifically Sansa. Too, if we take, say, Casterly Rock as an example, we can see a household of mixed aristocratic families (and, by extension, children): Kevan’s sons and daughter would have grown up not just with their cousin Tyrek Lannister, but also (thanks to Genna’s refusal to live away from Casterly Rock) some of their Frey cousins, “Red” Walder Frey and the grandsons of Cleos Frey - all descendants of Tytos Lannister, but from distinct branches (and, for the Freys, distinct paternal dynasties), which would strengthen those establish bonds.

Too, while not typical, it is nevertheless possible to have children brought into the household of a royal court. Magraery’s household as queen, for example, has included not just adult aristocratic Reach women but also younger girls from her homeland: not only her extended Tyrell cousins Megga, Elinor, and Alla but also little Alysanne Bulwer, children who may never have interacted with one another in their ordinary upbringings but would now have the opportunity to do so. Likewise, King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne took into their household their half-sister Jocelyn Baratheon when she was only six years old, to be raised as essentially an extra child of the royal couple within the household at King’s Landing (though of course the extent to which F&B, and by extension GRRM, ignores Jocelyn as a character never ceases to make me mad).

These are all examples rather than a finite list, of course, and it’s probably also worth noting that from an early age, aristocratic Westerosi children are prepared, through work and play, to recognize and interact with their social equals and superiors. We see from the experience of the Stark children that the study of heraldry is a key part of their education, setting them up early to recognize other families by their dynastic sigils. Too, one of aristocratic Westeros’ familiar childhood games is “come-into-my-castle”, a game which Tyrion remembers is “meant to teach [highborn children] courtesy, heraldry, and a thing or two about their lord father's friends and foes”. So from the first, highbor Westerosi children are socialized to interact with the wider (blue-blood) world around them.

Of course, it me, so I have to mention what this ask immediately made me think of from The Royal Succession, book four of The Accursed Kings:

The most surprising aspect of this dinner was the number of children present; for Eudes of Burgundy, having made it a condition of his own attendance that his niece, Jeanne of Navarre, should be present as some reparation for the outrage done her at the Assembly, the Count of Poitiers had decided to bring his three girls, the Count of Valois his latest offspring by his third marriage, the Count of Evreux his son and daughter, who were still of an age to play with dolls, the Dauphin of Viennois his little Guigues, the betrothed of the Regent’s third daughter, and the Duke of Burgundy his three children. There was continual confusion over Christian names; Blanches, Isabelles, Charleses and Philippes abounded; when someone cried ‘Jeanne!’ six heads turned together.

[asa-do-your-thing]

Dreams - 1 - Jon

18+ MINORS DNI Jon Snow x F!OC / Robb Stark x F!OC Word Count: 3.3k Masterlist with Fic Warnings - Contains Death, SA and Abuse.  Dividers by @cafekitsune

It had always been relatively crowded in Winterfell when it came to the Stark family, Jon noted. At first it was Lord Eddard, Lady Stark, and Robb, followed by him, Theon Greyjoy, Sansa, Bran, Arya, Rickon… and Lucie.

They had been a rag-tag band of kids, playing, hitting, and chasing each other. Theon had gladly joined their games, yet he, along with Sansa quickly realised that Jon was not a Stark - he was a half-brother at best and a Bastard at worst.

Lucie had never really been a part of the group seeing as she was the last person to join them, yet she was always there to prevent things from getting out of hand. Everyone had given Jon respect when she was present. She was a key player in maintaining an atmosphere of harmony in Winterfell’s spacious halls.

Looking up at her from his distant seat at dinner, Jon thought back to the day where she had joined them. Lord Eddard had told them a few weeks before that they were going to have a new ward; her family had sadly passed away and he graciously allowed her to be taken in with them until she came of age, which was just around the corner.

Lady Lucie Templeton of Ninestars, a distinguished Lady of the Vale. A title befitting her remarkable poise and presence. Jon had envisioned her as resembling an older iteration of Sansa: statuesque, elegant, and, above all, exuding an air of haughtiness and subtle aloofness towards him.

He knew he would forever remember her arrival; gallantly riding into Winterfell astride her untamed black stallion. As her lengthy black locks billowed behind her in the wind, she fearlessly surged through the gates on her steed. Dismounting with the finesse of a seasoned warrior, she strode confidently in his direction. All those present, Jon included, involuntarily retreated to afford her space, captivated by her awe-inspiring presence.

Noticing his stare, she quickly glanced over at him and caught his eye before turning away and exchanging greetings with Lord and Lady Stark. He was struck dumb by how commanding yet beautiful she was in that moment—her dark black eyes glowing with life despite the dire situation she had come from. Using his newfound courage — because only a fool wouldn’t be afraid in her presence — he managed to stammer out a few words of greeting which she returned warmly before moving on to meet the rest of the family.

It hadn’t taken too long for Jon to recognize that Lucie was not like anyone else he had ever met; even the Starks seemed impressed by her strength and poise (though they masked it well). But despite being adopted into this strange new world, Lucie still held onto an air of confidence and self-assurance that made even Jon feel small next to her.

He watched her with a critical eye, noting the way Robb and Theon stared at her with rapt attention, despite her meek and unassuming attempt at conversation. Instead of commanding the room as was expected of her, she averted her gaze and twiddled her fingers nervously while speaking in a barely audible whisper.

Jon had taken such care to make her feel welcome, in those days. He showed her the way around Winterfell, whenever she got lost again, and even taught her to pray to the old gods. Lady Catelyn scolded him for that - Lucie had grown up in the shadow of the Seven, the new Gods. Robb had gone out of his way to try and make her feel comfortable. He offered her a seat by the fire in the Great Hall while he fed her lessons on battles and strategy, noting that Lucie was a fast learner - able to keep up with him even as he tried to pummel her with facts. Theon, though never one for charity, seemed more enthralled by Lucie than any of them. Mostly because Lucie was not the type to laugh at his bad jokes or take part in his pranks - she was always too busy trying to stay one step ahead of everyone else in terms of knowledge.

Jon smiled fondly at his memories; he had been so sure that Lady Lucie would be like Sansa - aloof and haughty. Instead, she had become a dear friend and family member who could hold her own when needed - serving as an equal rather than a subordinate. It was amazing how someone so young could possess such depth and strength — something Jon admired greatly about her.

As the last plate was cleared, he glanced at Lucie and saw her weary eyes plead for solace. It had become a ritual - every night after dinner, while the others scurried off to their beds, she would stay in the library with him. They talked quietly about her struggles and sorrows as she clutched an aged book in her hands and the tears ran like rain down her face. On her first day, when everyone else had gone to bed, she asked meekly if she could stay up and read in the library. Septa Mordane attempted to bar her from doing so, but with one pained glance at Lord Eddard, her request was granted, albeit only if someone stayed with her. Together Jon and Lady Lucie walked into the library, and he felt nothing but pity and sadness for this brave little girl who had trusted him since the first time they had gone to talk.

That evening, all these moons ago, was something that made Jon cringe when looking back. Robb had tried to console the girl, yet after several unsuccessful attempts he asked for Jon's help. “Jon, nothing I said could get through to her. I offered her a pony, flowers, and new gowns, but she told me to go away. What’s wrong with her? She won’t tell me anything. Should I tell Septa Mordane or my mother?” Robb’s face was pale as he ran his hand through his hair anxiously.

Jon had crept back to the library, his leather belt clattering against the tops of his thighs as he walked. “Robb, do not try to console her. SHe is in mourning for her family and her home. I think you might scare her. Let me handle this.” Robb nodded acknowledgement and Jon entered the library, quietly shutting the door behind him. Lucie was hunched near the window, sobbing away. Robb was right, Jon had thought painfully; he could hear her muffled sobs and it made his heart ache for her. All he wanted was for her to feel some sense of comfort again.

Sitting down next to her, he cleared his throat to announce his presence. She looked up and sighed, wiping her tears and closed her worn book. “Please do not tell me all will be fine and for the love of… of the Gods, do not offer me a damned pony,” she muttered and sniffed.

“Even if I could, I wouldn’t. You have a fine steed yourself; I do not see the need for you to have a pony,” he said matter-of-factly and shifted in his seat, offering her a rag to blow her nose.

Lucie looked up at him, her dark eyes reddened by the tears. Tentatively blowing her nose, she sighed and tucked her feet under herself, hiding them under her lavish skirts. “So, I take it you are Jon Snow.”

He sighed, knowing that what would follow would be her acknowledgement of his status as a Bastard. He knew it all too well; Lady Catelyn had probably told her of that, prior to her arrival. She looked so young, so maybe he could still forgive her. “Indeed, I am, Lady Lucie.”

She had frowned, gently furrowing her thick, dark brows, patting the tears away from her reddened cheeks. “Why do you look like… Like I hurt you?”

Jon was baffled back then. She did not care about his mother, then. He might just start liking her. He gave her a small smile. “Oh, I... uhm…” His words, whatever they would’ve been, were stuck in his throat. “That is my mistake, my Lady. I meant no offense.”

“You are a peculiar man,” she noted, biting her lip, and putting the book to the side. “How could you offend me with your face? I think it is a fine one, I have seen worse.”

A big blush had crept up his cheeks. “I… My lady, I… Thank you.” Silence spread between them. “May I ask why you wished to go into the library and not just to your chambers?”

Now it had been Lucie’s turn to blush, though it seemed more in shame than in bashfulness. “That’s where my mother used to read to me and where we wrote before retiring to our chambers. I know, I know, it sounds childish, I should act like a Lady, but…” Tears welled up in her eyes again and spilled onto her dress.

With a nervous look, she stood up and sat down next to him, resting her head against his shoulder, crying quietly. Jon had decided not to probe, instead looking at the booklet. It didn’t belong to the Stark’s library - it must’ve been one of her own, titled ‘You shall be the best Lady.’ He hugged her, holding her gently, for the longest time, until her tears subsided, and her breath became calm once more. Sniffling, she gently broke free from his hug and gave him a small smile. “Thank you, Jon. I… shall retire now, I think.” To which he nodded, escorting her to her chamber.

Jon watched Lucie's figure slowly fade away down the hallway as darkness crept in, just like it had one year ago at the very same spot. But something was different about her tonight than in the first night. She seemed stronger, more confident as if she was hiding something from him. Should he confront her? He thought back to their conversations and noticed that she had been silent about what was going on with her life lately. He began to worry that maybe she had found out his secret - that terrible, shameful secret about how he touched himself late at night when no one would ever know. The mere thought sent a chill down Jon's spine.

She could not know, nobody could, it'd be the end of him.

He was entranced by the way Lucie had looked at him, with those mysterious dark eyes that seemed to know what he was feeling. Part of him wanted to believe that she felt something for him too- after all, he was the only one she allowed to spend time with her. But then there were moments when he could not help but feel that his own longing for her was deluding himself into seeing signs where there were none. He wished he could make sense of what she thought of him, yet he still could not unravel the complex of feelings between them.

Hells, he could not unravel his own thoughts, after all.

As he made his way back to his own chambers, he found himself lost in thought, replaying their conversation over and over in his mind. Lucie babbled something about Sansa's lady-friend crying and Arya asking her to train mounted shooting and, as always, Septa Mordane's question about her blood, which to her chagrin had still not come.

Jon could not comprehend why she felt so mortified by her own coming of age. She was now an adult at the ripe age of six-and-ten; why did this cause her such humiliation? Though he could somehow understand what she was implying, that everything associated with becoming a full woman was linked to... carnal passions.

He stopped walking for a second, remembering the redness of her cheeks as she talked about it. He shook his head and continued his way, not wanting to dwell on it any longer. He didn't want to assume anything – that was only a recipe for disaster and disappointment.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't even notice the figure standing in the shadows until it was too late.

A hand clamped over his mouth, muffling his cry of surprise. He struggled against the grip, but the person holding him was much stronger than he expected. Panic set in as he realised, he was being dragged away, the darkness swallowing him whole. When they finally stopped, Jon was disoriented and confused. He tried to shake the cobwebs from his head, but it was difficult to focus with the adrenaline pumping through his veins. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim candlelight of his bedchamber, but when they did, he could not believe what he was seeing.

Lucie stood before him, blushing, and wiping off the sweat from her brow, her hair undone and cascading over her shoulders in waves. She was clad in a simple cotton gown, the kind that the maids wore. Jon felt his heart skip a beat as he suddenly realised what was happening. He was afraid to speak, afraid that if he did, it would shatter the moment and she would disappear like a dream.

"Lucie?" he said confused, his voice cracking. “What on earth?!”

She grinned at him, the candlelight casting a warm glow across her face as she tried fixing the cloak around herself again. "I am sorry for this… unconventional method. I thought that this would be the safest way to be truly alone with you because... I want to talk to you. Without Lady Catelyn spying."

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to upset you or hurt you," Jon muttered and felt his throat tightening, gulping, and trying to swallow back the lump in his throat. How could he feel this way? He should not have felt anything for Lucie as she wrestled him into his room, but there was something thrilling and forbidden about it. It was not like Robb or Theon playing a joke on him - this moment was different. Even though he knew it was wrong, he could not help himself.

She tilted her chin up at him, her glossy black hair cascading down her back. Her voice was firm and determined as she spoke. "No, I am not angry. I want to know what it's like, Jon. What people do when they become intimate with one another. No one ever told me these things, but I trust you. Please tell me what it feels like, what am I supposed to do and how much does it hurt?"

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. This was wrong - he knew that - yet he could not find the strength to deny her. The drive she had to learn more overshadowed her usual innocence, and there was something in that blazing gaze of hers that made it impossible for him to turn her away.

"Lucie, I do not think-"

"Please," she interrupted, taking a step closer to him. "I trust you, Jon. I know you won't lie to me. No one wanted to tell me and... I am...," her voice faltered, and she nervously bit her lip, sitting down on the foot of his bed, gently scratching Ghost between his fluffy ears. "I feel tens of thousands of things, most of all fear and... I trust you to help me."

Jon's heart was pounding in his chest, his mind racing with a million thoughts at once. He knew that what Lucie was asking was wrong, that he should not be indulging her curiosity in this way. But still, he could not deny the pull he felt towards her. It was as if a part of him had been waiting for this moment, for her to come to him with her questions and her fears.

He took a deep breath and stepped closer to her, his hand reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Lucie, I can't teach you those things," he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. "It's not right. You are too young, and it's not... it's not something that should be taken lightly."

Her pupils widened with shock, and she gave him an awkward, confused glance. "But why?" she questioned, her voice wavering slightly. "I thought... I thought we had established an atmosphere of trust, considering all I've shared with you."

Jon's heart lurched as he heard the pain in Lucie's voice. He did care for her deeply, far more than he should. But that didn't change the fact that what she was suggesting was both dangerous and wrong.

Taking a shaky step back, he shook his head sadly. "Lucie, you do not know what You are asking of me," he said quietly. "It's not something I can take back once it's done, and it's a decision that should only be made with someone you truly love and whom you plan to spend your life with. You know we can never marry... You are a highborn Lady, and I am just..." His tongue stumbled over the word he wanted to say, knowing that even a whisper of his parentage had the power to shatter their moment.

Lucie stared at him for a long moment, her sharp eyes zigzagging across his face like she was searching for something he could not place. Then she let out an awkward laugh and touched his shoulder with tenderness. She adjusted herself under her nightgown, probably trying to hide the embarrassment that came with their misunderstanding.

"Oh Jon! I only wanted you to talk me through it, not show me!" She said in between giggles as she planted a gentle peck on his stubbly cheek. "You are so imaginative," Biting her lip, she looked away before continuing: "What do you think I am? A hungry harlot looking for prey?" With a suppressed smile, she raised an eyebrow waiting for his response, her cheeks ablaze.

Jon could not help but let out a small laugh at her words, the tension in the room dissipating slightly. "No, no, of course not, Lucie," he said, feeling relieved that she didn't expect more from him. He wanted her to... have flowered, he wanted them to have kissed, he wanted it to be less... dangerous, to be more romantic.

"I am sorry, I just... I didn't want to disappoint you. I know how important this is to you, but it's not something I can do. Not right now, at least. I do not want to lie... I uh..." The heat shot straight back into his head. "I have only ever talked about it, I've yet to... lie with someone." Because I am saving myself for you, I want you, only you, Lucie... the thoughts whirred in his head.

Lucie nodded, her expression softening. "Oh, I understand then," she said quietly, clearly unhappy with his response. "I just... I feel so lost sometimes. There's so much I do not know, so much I am not allowed to know. And I am afraid... afraid of being alone forever. I... I mean, yes, I will be married soon, and we both know who it will be with a high probability, but..."

As Jon gazed into her eyes, her vulnerability tugged at his heartstrings. He knew he could not leave her feeling like this; she deserved better than that. So, he inched closer and sat down on the bed beside her.

"You'll never be alone, Lucie," he whispered softly as he took her hand in his. "I'll always have your back no matter what happens. And someday, the man who's meant for you will come into your life."

He thought about Robb, and how he owed it to him to let Lucie go. It was selfish of him to keep her to himself. Besides, he could not even tell if she liked him or not - it was probably all in his head.

With a mix of gratitude and sadness, he knew that there was no going back from this moment. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, which smelled wonderfully of peonies, and she closed her eyes, her arms tightening around his waist. For a moment, they sat there in silence, lost in their own thoughts and feelings, until he pulled away, breaking the moment.

"I should get some rest," he mumbled, trying to guess the time. "You should too, we are to hunt tomorrow."

Lucie shifted back into her old, sad self and gave him a tired smile. "Of course. I wouldn't want Robb and Theon to think that I do not want to see them. It's... uhm, I am sorry to have bothered you, Jon. I promise it won't happen again." She got up and tied her cloak around her shoulders. "I am bringing you in dangerous situations, you know, being alone with you and then overstepping your boundaries. I am... sorry," she mumbled.

'No, you haven't! Please do not leave!', shot through Jon's mind, yet he knew he could not, it was wrong. It was shameful and... he didn't want to project his feelings and his lust onto her, so he gave her a small, sad smile in return.

As Lucie turned to leave, Jon could not help but watch her walk away, his eyes lingering on the sway of her hips. When she stood up, a bright flash of red silk slipped out from under her nightgown; the ribbon that held her stockings around her pale, supple thighs. He knew it was wrong to think of it, of her, in that way, but he could not help it. She was so beautiful, so pure, and so unreachable.

He wanted her, desperately.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. It was wrong, so wrong. He had to push those feelings aside, for both their sakes. He could not risk ruining the delicate balance they had between them. So, he took a deep breath, laying back on the bed. His thoughts drifted to the memory of Lucie's lost ribbon, the image of her silky stockings and smooth skin replaying in his mind. He felt himself growing hard again, and he knew what he had to do.

He closed his eyes and let his hand wander down to his growing erection, imagining it was Lucie's small, delicate hand instead. He stroked himself slowly, feeling his heartbeat quicken as he thought of her. He pictured her beautiful face, the curve of her lips, the arch of her eyebrows, her sharp, sparkling eyes. He imagined her soft, warm skin, her supple thighs, her tight, wet cunny.

As he continued to stroke himself, he let out a low moan, his body writhing with pleasure. He fantasised about Lucie being with him, touching him, kissing him, and eventually, making love to him. He imagined her moaning his name, her body trembling with ecstasy.

He stroked himself faster, his breathing growing ragged as his body approached the peak of pleasure. He moaned louder, his hand moving faster and faster until he finally exploded, spilling his hot seed all over his hand.

As he lay there, panting and sweating, he knew he had to get his feelings for Lucie under control. He could not let his lust for her ruin the special bond they shared. But at the same time, he could not stop himself from fantasising about her. She was just too beautiful, too alluring, too... perfect.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling his body slowly calming down. He knew he had a lot to think about, a lot to figure out. But for now, he just needed to rest. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep, his mind full of thoughts of Lucie.

AO3 <= Other Stories ¦ Next Chapter => 2 - Robb

[jedimaesteryoda]

Aegon's Garden had a pleasant piney smell to it, and tall dark trees rose on every side. There were wild roses as well, and towering thorny hedges, and a boggy spot where cranberries grew. -ASOS, Davos II The night the bird had come from Winterfell, Eddard Stark had taken the girls to the castle godswood, an acre of elm and alder and black cottonwood overlooking the river. The heart tree there was a great oak, its ancient limbs overgrown with smokeberry vines; they knelt before it to offer their thanksgiving, as if it had been a weirwood. Sansa drifted to sleep as the moon rose, Arya several hours later, curling up in the grass under Ned's cloak. All through the dark hours he kept his vigil alone. When dawn broke over the city, the dark red blooms of dragon's breath surrounded the girls where they lay. -AGOT, Eddard V

Nothing emphasizes how much the Targaryens are still relatively recent arrivals than by observing their godswoods in their castles.

Dragonstone has no godswood, and instead has Aegon's Garden, having been built as a Valyrian outpost. The royal castle of the Red Keep has a godswood, but doesn't have a weirwood but instead on oak. Weirwoods are trees native to Westeros, and are essential to the Old Gods worshipped by the children of the forest, the original inhabitants of Westeros, followed by the First Men, the first human inhabitants of the continent. Even with the Andal invasion with the majority of the realm turning towards the Seven, godswoods were still a necessity for every castle, complete with a weirwood except for the Eyrie due to its stony soil.

The lack of a weirwood in either of their royal castles shows how they are in some ways still essentially foreigners with their "blood of the dragon" philosophy keeping them apart from the rest of Westeros, not having set deep roots into the land.

I think by the end, in contrast to "dragons plant no trees" we will see a Targaryen plant a weirwood in the godswood of their new capital after the old one is burned in wildfire.

[dhampiravidi]

GOT/ASOIAF OC form (Naela Stark)

form adapted from this template! Note: this OC lives in an AU relative to the GOT/ASOIAF canon, one in which Rhaegar married Cersei and became king, rather than start a war over Lyanna Stark.

BASIC

Name: (Lady) Naela Stark

Nickname: Pup (by her parents), Little Wolf

Culture: Westerosi (born to House Stark & House Dayne)

Religion: The Old Gods

Sexuality: Bisexual (openly)

APPEARANCE

Overall: Naela stands at 5'5" (1.65 m). Like the typical Westerosi noblewoman, she has a healthy frame. However, as she gets older, the toned muscles she gains from her sword-fighting lessons become a little more evident. Visually, Naela takes after her mother, inheriting the indigo irises that she made famous in her youth, as well as her skin tone and facial features. Somehow, Naela managed to get her dark, wavy hair from her grandparents. She wears it in a braided updo for formal occasions, but she prefers to wear it free, where it rests just below her shoulders. Clothes: she wears dark shades of layered fabrics, which is the common style for women in Winterfell. Due to the weather, her people dress more for warmth and comfort than for aesthetics. When given the opportunity to travel south, she'll opt for dresses in deep purples and blues.

FC: Tristin Mays

BACKGROUND

Naela was born in Winterfell to her parents, Eddard "Ned" Stark, and Ashara Dayne, who had met at the Tourney of Harrenhal the year before. She ended up being the first of their two children, as her sister Arya would be born five years later. She had a happy childhood. Her parents were always receptive to her excited ramblings--not to mention her discovery of her queer identity, which was usually looked down upon by those who followed the Faith of the Seven. It probably helped that her father had grown up adoring his younger sister, Lyanna (Naela's favorite of his siblings), and her mother was from Dorne, the most progressive of the Westerosi regions. Naela's cousins (Robb, Sansa, Bran, and Rickon) played with her as much as Arya did. Naela especially liked to fist-fight with the boys when her Aunt Catelyn and the septas (who disapproved of her "unladylike behavior") weren't looking. Eventually, Naela would ask her parents for a sword, which she was gifted on her fourteenth birthday. She named it Nightfall, and she secretly used it to train in the event that her uncle, Ser Arthur Dayne, chose to pass down the ancestral sword of his house, letting her become the next Sword of the Morning. The only "present" she's ever loved as much as her sword is her direwolf, which she named Moony.

(AU note) yep, I made Ashara a WOC. Call her a Salty or Sandy Dornishman. Her dad remarried after his first wife died.)

PERSONALITY

Overall: she's well known for being the figurative sun in the snowy North. Naela is a ball of energy, always loving to run around the lands of her uncle (King Rickard Stark) on the adventures she and her younger sister plan. It's rare that she's ever truly still or sad. The exceptions to this are when she's learning about tales of courtly love and/or great warriors from her parents (which keeps her still) or when she's longing for a real adventure of her own (which deeply worries her). She's a hopeless romantic at heart, partly due to the fact that her parents fell in love at first sight. This quality ties into her main weakness--her naivety. Though she is admirably loyal and true, Naela is often warned that her heart will be her undoing if someone with ill intentions tries to lead her astray.

Hobbies: sword-fighting, hearing/reading stories, dancing

Fear(s): that she'll never find the adventure she seeks

[hell-heron]

First Sentence Meme 2024

1) From the moment that his father knelt for the king and swore him fealty and gave him Theon, too, as if the prince of the Iron Islands was an extra crab thrown on the heap to sweeten the deal, to thereabouts the hour of the owl of the same day, Theon fought the Northmen.

2) What Theon really wanted for a while, a stinging bitter need pulsating in his temple, was to have the last word on the recent screaming match on whether his behavior was shaming the family by snorting a line off his father’s bony arse there and then.

3) Ned had been relieved at first, when Balon Greyjoy knelt to swear his fealty with relatively little insubordination and Robert announced, booming and assured, that his last remaining son would come with them as a safeguard of the peace.

4) Tristifer did not like Blacktyde, which made him feel very stupid.

5) The bride his father has fetched for his pleasure is as slender and raven-haired as the one he took from him, though there her charms end.

6) It was the night after Joffrey’s nameday that the dreams started coming to her.

7) When Lord Stark made his appearance in the Godswood, Theon instinctively hid his bow behind his back and kicked the squirrel he had caught into the pool, where it floated up like a miniature drowned man, calling Gods and men to look at his guilt.

8) They say sometimes, when they’re desperate to make conversation or when they think Helaena’s staggered gasping out of the nursery a moment too long, that Jaehaerys is fond of animals, just as she was.

9) The summer had been just dawning the last time Balon had knelt to Robert Baratheon.

10) It was said that the Vale was the most beautiful place in the world, a proud, haughty heaven uninterested in the plight of the dirty war-ravaged Riverlands, whatever bonds of blood may have been there before the war.

11) Lucy, I wrote you were sleepwalking. 

12) “I'm taking you to a special place, but you cannot tell Ben.”

13) Dear sweet sister, I don't know if Mother and Father have let you know, but given how they are to make sure I will tell you as well.

14) “I am not having you in the city a moment more,” Daenerys told the two of them when the rest of the small council had cleared, eyeing in desperation the puddle of sweat Sansa was helplessly trying to hide in the folds of her skirt.

15) Mina had never been daunted by having five lines on her wrist.

16) He makes his decision in a split second the moment he sees his little cousin slip to the godswood.

17) Mags woke on the day of the reaping to Nausicaa nibbling on her hand, shoving her head under her arm to lift it up.

18) Life was denied to her.

19) “I know what it is you’re doing wrong with the hatchlings.”

20) For their whole carriage ride from Seaguard to Winterfell, Lord Eddard Stark had often told Theon stories about his family and the North and inquired after his well-being, but never said a word about how he was going to have to serve him, and it had started to make him nervous.

21) They spent the day after the Feast as they were spending a worrying percentage of the Games, lying down feeling sorry for themselves and wishing their families could mysteriously have their electricity turned off for the rest of the day.

22) The world became very cold and dark, after his life had spilled out of him.

23) My new good friend, Doctor John Seward has explained to me a great deal about the usefulness of keeping a dream journal.

24) “You have not been taking much of an interest in your little toy, my Reek,” the bastard points out one day, when Theon turns his eyes away from Tris's whipping, when even making him scream and sob doesn't make Theon turn back.

25) When it was over, Alannys wrapped her arms around her husband and pulled herself closer to whisper in his ear: “Perhaps we have made a new heir tonight.”

26) The master said the autumn was well advanced, but seasons were all wrong in King's Landing, or perhaps it was the Tyrell retinue that had brought spring into the city with them, for the day was mild as a mother's kiss.

27) “It was a hard one, I will not lie, but I think it was good for us, for our whole District to be able to measure ourselves against a real challenge from the lower districts for once.”

28) Sabitha had read the story of Argella Durrandon, she had memorized it dutifully.

29) He had promised the people of Winterfell no harm would come to those who yielded, and he was true to his promise.

30) Lady Stark had said Sansa was courteous and eager to please, and even in death her word held true and good as gold. 

31) Asha cried all the time now.

32) “Will you really not tell me where you’re going?”

33) (this is a song so a bit hard to define the First line) Come, goodfather, pay your debts

[demongemz]

welcome to london, JON SNOW! did anyone ever tell you that you look just like KIT HARINGTON? well, no matter, we hear that you are 30 and working as a BODYGAURD FOR THE FARM. we also hear that you currently DON'T HAVE your memories from GAME OF THRONES and have a tendency to be LOYAL as well as STUBBORN.

DEMOGRAPHICS

Name: Jon Snow Aegon Targaryen Relatives: None that he remembers Occupation: BodyGaurd Birthday: 281 AC Age: 30 Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good Memory Status: Broken

BACKGROUND

Jon Snow, born Aegon Targaryen, is the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, the late Prince of Dragonstone. From infancy, Jon is presented as the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark, Lyanna's brother, and raised alongside Eddard's lawful children at Winterfell. Jon's true parentage is kept secret from everyone, including Jon himself, to protect him from those who seek the complete annihilation of House Targaryen. Jon joins the Night's Watch and is later elected as Lord Commander. As a result of several controversial decisions, such as allowing the wildlings to settle south of the Wall, Jon is murdered in a mutiny but is resurrected by the red priestess Melisandre. Freed from his Night's Watch vows, Jon and his half-sister Sansa Stark retake Winterfell from House Bolton, restoring House Stark's dominion over the North. Jon is declared King in the North. Jon negotiates with Daenerys Targaryen for an alliance against the White Walkers in the imminent Great War. Later he pledges himself and his army to Daenerys, with whom he falls in love, subsequently abdicating his throne and being named Warden of the North. Later, Jon learns his true lineage from Samwell Tarly, revealing Daenerys is his aunt. A dragon rider whose dragon was Rhaegal, he fights in the Battle of Winterfell, during which the Night King is defeated and the return of the Long Night is prevented. Afterward, Jon aids Daenerys in her resumed campaign to take the Iron Throne and participates in the Battle of King's Landing. However, when Daenerys lays waste to a surrendered King's Landing, Jon tries but is unable to dissuade her from more destruction and assassinates her to prevent further carnage. Following a Great Council in the Dragonpit, Jon is sent into exile, returning to the Night's Watch. He leads the remaining Free Folk to settle in the thawing free lands.

[ray-moo]

Being a feudal* society, Westeros would actually have much less of a bureaucracy than one might imagine a state needing. The one big advantage of a feudal society, after all, is how you don't need to run and pay for your kingdom because it runs and pays for itself (Your warlord friends do it for you). The downside, of course, is that your kingdom doesn't pay you either and the degree that you can actually run your kingdom is also limited since there are that many more decentralized powerholders. But that means that a feudal kingdom is one where the underlying thing holding it together is the web of interpersonal relationships between the landed gentry, not institutions and laws which require taxes and political power to pay for and enforce. A feudal kingdom is essentially what you get when a lot of guys make an oath of fealty to someone who makes an oath to someone ad nauseum. But those oaths are interpersonal relationships, they're personal agreements enforced by honor, reputation, societal expectations. Not law. And we can see a part of this system in play when Eddard Stark as Hand of the King appoints Beric Dondarrion to apprehend Gregor Clegane. There's no institution in place to apprehend Lords. One Lord asks a lesser Lord under their fealty to do something for them. It's interpersonal relationships, obligations, favors owed, all the way down.

That being said, you could characterize Westeros as a society in transition between a feudal kingdom and an autocracy. There are offices beyond the Master of Coin for example, they just don't have the political capital to be relevant or on the Small Council. As for why there's so many idle Lordlings in King's Landing, they're most likely doing their fair bit in maintaining the bedrock of this society: That being maintaining a good interpersonal relationship with the King. Beyond that, it's worth considering how much a noble stands to benefit from being close to the King, and the center of political power. What few official positions there are aren't going to major Lords who are staying home to run their own territory, after the King's relatives, its the minor nobility that have the greatest chance on securing positions such as the master of coin, or whispers, etc. But until then, they already have passive incomes back home so it costs them literally nothing to stay in Kings Landing and wait for their shot at power. Remember also, that in Westeros, the King is considered the legal guardian of orphaned noble children, as was the case for Sansa. When it comes time for the King to arrange a marriage, which is also their responsibility as the child's guardian in Westeros, who are they going to pick? Lord Ramshead of Sheep Isle, who stayed home to ensure his personal little fiefdom was the number one mutton producer in the Stepstones, or the young and eligible Ser Twinkletoes who spends every day hunting with the King, laughing at the King's jokes, jousting in King's Landing's tourneys, bedded wenches with the King, and is now very publically begging their very public friend the King to let them wed Lady Orphanette of the Month.

That's not all though, consider how many landless nobility there might be, or two-copper knights who's castle is some half-knocked down tower or a converted holdfast and don't have the funds to rebuild from their meager holding of three villages and a windmill, or petitioners who have yet to build up the political influence to get an audience with the King, or young wards who were handed to the King at a young age only to find that home didn't want them anymore? Where else would they go but the seat of power, King's Landing?

EDIT: I saw your tag about watching Cdramas and that's the thing, China for most of it's history was very much not a feudal society, but a very centralized, rich state which could afford a massive bureaucracy where the bureaucrats were the ones who held power and not the regional warlords. This held true even when China was a lot of little Chinas as many of the fragments were still rich and powerful enough to afford those things as well as inherited the institutions and infrastructure of the larger dynasties. I think several Chinese dynasties had their turns making up 25% of the global economy of their time. EDIT 2: Made post less vulgar.

*Yes I know that the term feudal is outdated and that the correct term is something along the lines of vassalage or something like that.

I think the wildest thing for me about ASOIAF’s world building, especially the KL world building is that almost none of the people in the court of KL have like. A job. Like yeah they’re all gentry. They are hanging out at court because— why??? Home sucks?? This isn’t a Louis XIII making people move to Versailles thing. Where are the scheming officials!! How many departments of the treasury are there!! It can’t all be done by JUST the Master of Coin that’s stupid!! Where ARE the tax collectors!! Where’s the scribes!! What is the state of the infirmary how many maesters are there!! Who’s in charge of the maids!! Who do you have to bribe to get pork for dinner instead of chicken!! Shouldn’t a Lord Hand have like an entire political faction surrounding them???

[sigilsongs-a]

(``) muse tags. JON

(``) jon snow . (tag)

[adveanture-archived]

fuck it, i’m doing it. 

★ ∗ ∘ ∙   039.  sansa stark

★ ∗ ∘ ∙   039.  sansa stark    —    rel.  eddard

★ ∗ ∘ ∙   039.  sansa stark    —    rel.  catelyn

★ ∗ ∘ ∙   039.  sansa stark    —    rel.  robb

★ ∗ ∘ ∙   039.  sansa stark    —    rel.  arya

★ ∗ ∘ ∙   039.  sansa stark    —    rel.  bran

★ ∗ ∘ ∙   039.  sansa stark    —    rel.  rickon

★ ∗ ∘ ∙   039.  sansa stark    —    rel.  jon

[goodqueenaly]

Hello again! Sorry I’m trying to figure out how to make this a question, but if you’re willing to, I’d love to hear any thoughts you have about Myranda Royce? I feel like she’s interesting as a counterpoint to the general depiction of the Vale nobility—it struck me that her open association with “Alayne Stone” could be considered unusual by her contemporaries. Do you think it’s genuine, or being gracious (or both)? Thanks and I hope you are well!

I think Myranda is quite an interesting character! (Long, more under the cut)

On the one hand, Myranda certainly wants to encourage Sansa-as-Alayne to see her as a friend. Throughout their conversation, Myranda asks, indeed demands that Sansa-as-Alayne refer to her as “Randa”, an informal nickname which bridges the class distinction between them (more on that in a bit). Myranda’s genial, self-identified “wicked” gossip, punctuated with laughs and jokes, directly recalls Sansa’s last true experience of female friendship, way back in AGOT - sharing a strawberry pie with Jeyne Poole, “giggling and gossiping and sharing secrets”. Too, as they near the Gates of the Moon, Myranda tells Sansa-as-Alayne of the apartments readied for her but offers to share her own bed with Sansa-as-Alayne, much in the manner of Margaery’s bedsharing with her close-knit cousins. Nor is this proffered friendship an entirely empty hope on the part of Myranda. By TWOW, Sansa is internally referring to Myranda as “her friend”, and when Myranda cheerfully dares Sansa to race the gatehouse by declaring “[l]ast one to the gate must marry Uther Shett”, Sansa laughs and joyfully thinks that “[f]or just a little while … [Sansa] found herself remembering bright cold days at Winterfell, when she would race through Winterfell with her friend Jeyne Poole, with Arya running after them trying to keep up”. Myranda does provide Sansa-as-Alayne, at least eventually, some access to friendship and fun Sansa has not experienced in a very long, very traumatic time; finally, after months turning to years of loneliness, abuse, and fear, Sansa has a young aristocratic woman of an age with her, with whom she can be happy - in fact, feeling “alive again, for the first since her father… [sic] since Lord Eddard Stark had died”.

Yet Sansa cannot embrace Myranda Royce as her friend without complication, given the context in which she is introduced to Myranda. Before Sansa and Myranda Royce ever meet, Littlefinger warns Sansa that she, Sansa, must “be careful” and “[g]uard [her] tongue around [Myranda]”, because while Myranda “likes to play the merry fool … underneath she’s shrewder than her father”. That Sansa takes this warning to heart is reflected in Sansa-as-Alayne’s greeting to Myranda, allowing Myranda to call her “Alayne” but internally adding “you’ll get no secrets from me”.  Indeed, Myranda’s frank conversation, complete with blunt questions, seems to parallel Olenna Tyrell’s similarly staged interview of Sansa at the start of ASOS; just as the shrewd Queen of Thorns weaponized an attitude of uncourtly candor to make Sansa comfortable enough to admit to Joffrey’s monstrousness, so Myranda seems to want to draw information out of Sansa-as-Alayne, particularly to her true identity, by peppering their chat with candid sexual references and choice bits of gossip. To that end, Myranda does appear to succeed: when Myranda seemingly offhand mentions that “the Night’s Watch has a boy commander, some bastard son of Eddard Stark’s”, Sansa-as-Alayne blurts the name “Jon Snow” - an improbable bit of identification for supposedly the bastard daughter of a minor Vale lord, allegedly living in Gulltown with the Faith until relatively recently. (Whether Myranda then later remarks on Sansa-as-Alayne’s “rosy cheeks and big blue eyes” to make a coy reference to the true Sansa’s Tully appearance, or later still tells Sansa-as-Alayne that “[t]he first Lady Waynwood must have been a mare” as a sly allusion to the Waynwood marriage Catelyn says was made by one of Jocelyn Stark’s Royce daughters, are both open, intriguing possibilities.) In the ongoing theme of truth versus lies so central to Sansa’s storyline, Myranda’s search for knowledge is used by Littlefinger to portray her as an antagonist; falsehood and secrecy, literally defining Sansa for the moment in the guise of “Alayne Stone” must perforce divide Sansa from her would-be friend, at least according to Littlefinger. 

Yet Myranda does not simply represent the duality of friendship and animosity for Sansa-as-Alayne. For all her risqué jokes and targeted requests for information, there is I think a good heart to Myranda, most clearly demonstrated in her treatment of Robert Arryn. Before we even meet Myranda on page, Sansa mentally notes that “Robert [would] be pleased” at the news of Myranda’s coming, because “[h]e liked Myranda”, implying not only that Robert has met her before but that Myranda made a good impression in her prior visit(s). While it’s certainly good political sense for any Vale aristocrat to treat the Lord of the Eyrie with respect, Myranda shows Robert genuine warmth and kindness: kneeling to meet him at his level, grandly lying that he had “grown so big” and would “be taller than me soon”, and joining Sansa-as-Alayne in allaying Robert’s fears by agreeing that the Winged Knight could indeed fly “[h]igher than the mountains” - all important actions to take toward a young boy infantalized and dismissed as sickly for virtually his entire eight years of life. Like Sansa, who plays to Robert’s favorite stories of chivalric heroism to encourage his bravery, Myranda offers Robert a rare opportunity for pride in himself in this trek down the mountain. Indeed, Myranda acts exactly as Sansa believes Mya Stone should have - “greet[ing] him with a smile” and “[telling] him how strong and brave he looks” - a positive reflection on both Myranda’s relationship with Robert and her perceptive sense of manners. 

Related to this point, Myranda seems to have a keen and natural grasp of her position; this is a young woman who understands how to be lady of a castle to her fingertips. The little Sansa initially knows of Myranda Royce includes the fact that Myranda “kept her father's castle for him”, and that “it was a much livelier court when she was home than when she was away”. Myranda’s courtly experience is on full display in Sansa’s TWOW sample chapter. When the Waynwood party arrives to the Gates of the Moon, Myranda curtsies to Lady Anya, politely ignores Wallace Waynwood’s stammer, adds some sweetly witty commentary on the upcoming feast and tourney, and informs the Waynwoods of their and their party’s lodging with both grace and tact. Too, while she might continue to provide her cutting opinions privately to Sansa-as-Alayne, Myranda also seems to know where to express herself more subtly: calling to Sansa-as-Alayne for a less rude escape from her Lipps and Shett admirers, and quietly teasing Lyn Corbray (whom Myranda already identified as an unlikely suitor) by piously wishing for a healthy delivery for that Corbray sister-in-law whose pregnancy Lyn resents so much. 

Which, of course, only highlights the (relative) societal knife edge on which Myranda exists. As the daughter of the head of the lesser branch of her family, Myranda already occupies a place lower than that of other Vale blue-bloods - recall Littlefinger’s note to Sansa that Myranda’s father was in part quite willing to believe Littlefinger precisely because he, Nestor, was “very much aware that he was born of the lesser branch of House Royce”. As “a widow, but scarce used”, to borrow her rueful turn of phrase, Myranda has neither the maidenhood so prized by aristocratic Westerosi nor the dynastic investment of a child with her late husband - and by extension, a socially acceptable role(s) as wife and/or mother. Myranda is, in the cold and unfair calculus of Westerosi aristocratic marriage making, a lesser prize - a fact Myranda herself appears to recognize all too well. As she sighs to Sansa-as-Alayne, Myranda cannot determine “whether it was me she [i.e. Anya Waynwood] found unsuitable [for Harry Hardyng], or just my dowry”; too, as Sansa herself picks up, behind Myranda’s japes of Sansa-as-Alayne’s apparent success in being betrothed to Harry, there is the hurt of a young woman brusquely reminded that she was, at least in the estimation of Lady Waynwood, not good enough for such a match. In the zero sum game of Westerosi matchmaking, Sansa-as-Alayne cannot win (again, only in the  sense of a betrothal to a politically very important fiancé) without Myranda losing out on that exact match. 

This tension, in turn, I think as much defines Myranda’s relationship with Sansa as the duality of Myranda as both (potential) friend and foe does for Sansa’s relationship with her.  Myranda has the name and familial credentials, but not the dowry to make good on them or the aristocratic marriage to show for them; Sansa-as-Alayne is (ostensibly) an unlegitimized bastard of a rather upjumped lord, yet she has the great dowry and (as of the start of TWOW) the brilliant future marriage to the heir presumptive of House Arryn. Consequently, when Myranda first meets Sansa-as-Alayne, it is Myranda who condescends (in the most fundamental meaning of the word) to her: “I am 'my lady' at the Gates”, Myranda reminds Sansa-as-Alayne, “but up here on the mountain you may call me Randa”, a quiet reminder that it is Myranda who can waive the privilege of formal address because she herself is automatically entitled to such a style. It is Myranda who sniffs at the “common girl”, not even dignified with a first name, with whom Harry fathered a child; Myranda who thinly veils the bitterness in her observation that “Harry could have done much worse” than marry her, even if she was, as she reflects, widowed and no longer a maiden; and Myranda who declares that she “shan’t concern [herself]” with Sansa-as-Alayne’s “bastard breasts” when comparing their physical appearances. Likewise, it is Myranda who scathingly asks whether Sansa-as-Alayne “ever knew] a Sisterman who could joust”, as according to Myranda “[t]hey clean their swords with codfish oil and wash in tubs of cold seawater” - proper performance of chivalry being so often equated in Westerosi society with aristocratic bearing. These two young women occupy similar, yet opposed, liminal spaces in their society (as I talked about before specifically with Sansa), operating in an aristocratic sphere that at the same time embraces and rejects them, but for very different reasons. 

What I could certainly see is that when (not if) Sansa-as-Alayne is in fact revealed as Sansa Stark in TWOW (ahem, Shadrich), Myranda helps verify Sansa’s true identity (having, again, perhaps puzzled out as much from observing her). More importantly, I hope that Myranda is not in fact an antagonist to Sansa out of some petty sense of jealousy (I had plenty of negative female relationships in F&B, thank you very much), but rather helps undermine Littlefinger’s governing thesis presence in Sansa’s life (before the final denouncement of Littlefinger by Sansa at Winterfell, anyway). For Littlefinger, who values and employs lies and deception as a fundamental aspect of his character, a figure who seeks out truthful information is indeed a disturbing, dangerous individual. Moreover, as a confident and (again, relatively) independently secure aristocratic young woman in her own right, Myranda Royce almost certainly represents to Littlefinger a threat to his isolation of and control over Sansa; just as Cersei separated Sansa from Jeyne Poole in the immediate aftermath of the purge of the Stark household to keep Sansa alone and friendless (remaking with annoyance that “[t]he gods only know what sort of tales she's been filling Sansa's head with” - that is, true stories of the violence and bloodshed of the purge), so I think Littlefinger fears the appearance of a potential friend to Sansa, unconnected to himself, who could begin to influence and encourage her in ways he would not be able to oversee. In perhaps identifying Sansa as a Stark, but then supporting her, Myranda may appear to Sansa as a deliberate rejection of Littlefinger’s description of her as a truth-seeking villain - and, in turn, begin the downfall of Littlefinger himself. 

[burnnouts]

Robb nodded. "I will see to it." It was as reasonable and just a demand as any: for her kin to be returned, for the departed that all this strife had created, would at last be put to rest. They might worship different gods and have different customs in the North, but on this they could agree. From what he had heard, her brother had strung up his enemies on the castle walls, placed Robb's father, Eddard Stark, on a spike, and made Sansa look upon it. The very thought made Robb's blood boil, but he would not return the favor in kind. Even his enemies deserved to rest in peace. The fact remained that the boys' murder had been an atrocity from all sides; Robb might not have swung the sword himself, but it was his men who had committed the crime, and so their blood was on his hands. He had executed the men who'd murdered them, and had lost much of his army for it, but still, the thought of those kills haunted him just as much as any battle.

Robb had made a decision that day, drawn clear in the earth the line upon which his kingdom would rest. It was a line he believed his father would have been proud of, one that promised their kingdom would be built upon a foundation of justice. But it had not been a popular decision to kill Lord Karstark. The Lannister boys were his enemies, and yet he had killed his dead friends' father for their sakes. But he could not excuse the murder of innocent children, no matter who made the kill.

"Then I believe we are in agreement." If they left this room as uneasy allies, if they allowed the other to live, they would have two separate kingdoms--and for just how long would be be allowed to rule his? His lords had made him king, and they could unmake him as easily. But if he was going to be king, he had to act like one, to make the difficult choices, the honorable choices--no matter the costs. There was no justice in killing either of the remaining Lannister children, simply because their brother had been a monster. If all men were held responsible for the actions of every relative, they would all hang.

"My armies will remain in King's Landing until Cersei Lannister is executed, and you are formally declared Queen. Then we will go." He may not be serving under her rule, but he had not come this far to leave with the Iron Throne empty. "Gods be good, we need not ever cross paths again." It was a shame, really--in another life, perhaps they would not have ended up on opposite sides of a war. Perhaps in another life, they could have had a bond like their fathers shared or just been two young kids dancing together at a ball.

It   is   reasonable.   No   further   demands   other   than   just   his   people   ,and   what   he   gained   in   battle.   It   would   be   hypocritical   of   her   to   deny   him   such   a   thing,   when   her   father   won   the   Throne   during   a   Rebellion.   "Very   well.   Your   people   will   return   north   then.   My   uncle   would   wish   the   remains   of   his   children   returned   to   him   as   well."   Two   little   boys,   children,   innocent   in   this   war,   being   killed   and   murdered   by   a   grown   man.   Would   had   he   wrapped   his   hands   around   her   neck   and   murder   her   too?   Perhaps   force   her   to   wed   to   torture   her   mother   with   the   idea   she   was   a   northern   girl   then.   All   of   that   doesn't   matter,   she   thinks,   as   she   looks   at   the   direwolf   by   his   side.   Emerald   eyes   looked   at   the   King   and   then   back   toward   the   table,   the   question   hanging   on   the   air.  

"Your   father   had   been   kind   to   me,   when   I   was   in   King's   Landing.   He   was   nice   when   we   were   in   Winterfell.   What   my   brother   did,   what   my   mother   allowed   him   to   do   to   him,   and   your   sister,   and   further,   all   of   those   I   heard   from   far   away.   I   was   send   to   Dorne   shortly   after."   But   she   has   no   Dornish   prince   anymore   unless   Quentyn   Martell   returns   brideless   from   Essos,   without   the   dragon   queen   and   Doran   tells   her   to   marry   him,   or   perhaps   a   distant   cousin.   "My   mother   never   once   wrote   to   me   while   I   was   there.   Sending   only   excuses   to   delay   my   marriage   to   Trystanne.   Eventually,   Trystanne   died,   and   I   have   all   reasons   to   believe   she   is   at   fault.   The   last   time   I   saw   my   mother   was   years   ago.   And   I   was   never   a   favorite."   That   was   Joffrey,   who   would   do   no   wrong.   Joffrey,   who   would   hurt   animals   and   servants   and   girls   as   he   saw   please.  

"And   Tommen   is   but   a   boy.   The   crown   he   sees   as   nothing   but   a   game,   he   seeks   counsel   from   mother,   and   his   wife,   both   who   I   believe   have   their   own   agendas."   Margaery   Tyrell   might   not   be   evil   as   her   mother,   but   she   does   have   some   control   over   her   brother,   who   is   crushing   on   her.   "The   moment   my   mother   learned   I   had   bled   she   send   me   moontea,   thinking   I   was   in   Dorne,   following   Dornish   ways."   Her   voice   is   hurt   by   that   alone.   That   her   mother   thought   she   had   become   Dornish   to   the   point   of   allowing   herself   to   take   lovers   before   even   wed.   "Justice   is   justice.   Regardless   of   blood."         

[aegor-bamfsteel]

I know you hate the Vale but do you think the Waynwoods will play a role in TWOW? Do you see Sansa stopping on the Sisters like her father while going to White Harbour? Will she make the journey alone or will she have any companions?

Slow your roll there, anon. I don’t hate the Vale, I just sometimes forget about it in my worldbuilding of Westeros, and the tour post was gently teasing that. When I don’t like something from ASOIAF, you’ll know.

The Waynwoods are already playing a role as early as AFFC, as their ruling lady was a key member of the Lords Declarant. I see no reason why that role should be cut off come TWOW; Catelyn met the eldest sons Morton and Donnel back in AGOT, and now in TWOW Sansa has met the youngest son Wallace and his nephew Roland. Donnel in particular is the new Knight of the Gate and previously rescued Catelyn et al from the mountain clans. Like their relative Harry, Wallace and Roland are newly made proud knights eager to prove themselves in battle. Even Morton wanted to marry Lysa. There’s indication that despite Baelish buying their debts, the Waynwoods have ambitions that would put them in conflict with him. Should the Vale rise in rebellion in support of the Starks (and why not, that Chekhov’s Army that’s been built up since the beginning), the Waynwoods would be the second to join after the Royces.

Asking me to predict anything going forth in the main series is asking for me to sound silly. However, I think after Godric Borrell’s powerful memory of Eddard “what if we prevail” Stark, there should be at least one of his children to come back to visit, and that will be Sansa. Her tracing her father’s secret journey in reverse has a symmetry. For the reason of him being all alone and Melisandre not seeing anyone else in her vision of the girl in grey, I think Sansa will have to take the journey alone for at least part of it (though I am hoping for some Sansa/Mya roadtrip antics at least to the Sisters). This will be a unique moment for her, because up to that point she’s been surrounded by people who seek to control her, and now she’s on her own choosing to go where she thinks is safe.

[kellyvela]

While the previous anon went about it the wrong way I do there are some similarities between the hound and Jon:

1. Relatively similar coloring (Jon: brown hair and grey eyes/hound: black hair grey eyes)

2. Association to canines (Dog and Wolf)

3. Burn wounds (Jon on his right arm/Hound on the right side of his face)

4. Batb imagery.

But more than that I think the hound is a foreshadowing for future Jon. The hound is cynical, temperamental, and beast like individual who got ‘tempered’ by Sansa’s singing and gentle touch. Jon will likely be cynical, temperamental, and beast like when he’s resurrected and will need Sansa’s singing and gentle touch to be tempered. The hound is just as much a placeholder for Jon as Ygritte is for Sansa. Granted he has other purposes too, but one of them is to hint at Jon.

As I said in my previous post: "Yes, in general we can say they are both men, with grey eyes and dark hair, they are both member’s of military orders, they both showed romantic/sexual interest in girls with shades of red hair. But this is all very superficial."

So when you say this: "Relatively similar coloring (Jon: brown hair and grey eyes/hound: black hair grey eyes)", I remember the time I listed all the Asoiaf men with that traits combo (all shade of grey eyes and all shades of dark hair), and they are a lot, Littlefinger included, it's pretty common really. So this isn't a strong argument.

I know some hound shippers use "the northern look" in favor of their ship because that one time someone thought the hound was Arya's father (this is connected with Sansa's wish to have a daughter that looks like Arya), but any adult man seen with a child, is assumed to be the child's father, even if they don't look alike, because not all children look like their fathers. Ask Eddard Stark about his Tully look children.

And talking about Eddard Stark, a character that really looks like Arya, let's remember that time Ned referred to Jon as a younger version of himself. So the character that really looks like Arya (long solemn face, grey eyes and brown hair) is Jon Snow.

GRRM is very strict with traits and coloring. For example, there are a lot of blue-eyed characters, but among them the Tully Blue stands out. There are also many famous shades of red hair, among them the famous Tully Auburn and the Dondarrion Red Gold.

That's why I always object the "similar look" argument, because the Stark Look in particular includes not only grey eyes, but also BROWN hair and a long solemn face.

And you know who is very close to the Stark Look? Waymar Royce, a famous Jon Snow lookalike.

Now about this one: "Association to canines (Dog and Wolf)," GRRM has put a lot of effort into differentiating and disassociating common dogs and direwolves.

As I said before: "Direwolves are not dogs. Direwolves are not simple pets. Direwolves are superior in comparison. Also these particular direwolves, the Stark kids’s direwolves, are gifts from the Old Gods and part of their masters’ souls."

And this statement “Direwolves are not dogs” is repeated a lot in the Books, mostly through Lady and Ghost:

Jon had started drinking then, and he had not stopped. Something rubbed against his leg beneath the table. Jon saw red eyes staring up at him. “Hungry again?” he asked. There was still half a honeyed chicken in the center of the table. Jon reached out to tear off a leg, then had a better idea. He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs. Ghost ripped into it in savage silence. His brothers and sisters had not been permitted to bring their wolves to the banquet, but there were more curs than Jon could count at this end of the hall, and no one had said a word about his pup. He told himself he was fortunate in that too. His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke. He swallowed another gulp of wine and watched his direwolf devour the chicken. Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal.Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating. —A Game of Thrones - Jon I

Eddard Stark had left before dawn, Septa Mordane informed Sansa as they broke their fast. “The king sent for him. Another hunt, I do believe. There are still wild aurochs in these lands, I am told.” “I’ve never seen an aurochs,” Sansa said, feeding a piece of bacon to Lady under the table. The direwolf took it from her hand, as delicate as a queen. Septa Mordane sniffed in disapproval. “A noble lady does not feed dogs at her table,” she said, breaking off another piece of comb and letting the honey drip down onto her bread. “She’s not a dog, she’s a direwolf,” Sansa pointed out as Lady licked her fingers with a rough tongue. “Anyway, Father said we could keep them with us if we want.” The septa was not appeased. “You’re a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to that creature you’re as willful as your sister Arya.” She scowled. “And where is Arya this morning?” “She wasn’t hungry,” Sansa said, knowing full well that her sister had probably stolen down to the kitchen hours ago and wheedled a breakfast out of some cook’s boy. —A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

Rattleshirt’s dogs greeted him with a chorus of snarls and growls and wild barking, as ever, but the direwolf paid them no mind. Six days ago, the largest hound had attacked him from behind as the wildlings camped for the night, but Ghost had turned and lunged, sending the dog fleeing with a bloody haunch. The rest of the pack maintained a healthy distance after that. —A Storm of Swords - Jon I "They’re dogs and he’s a wolf,” said Jon. “They know he’s not their kind.” No more than I am yours.  —A Storm of Swords - Jon I It happened twice more that night, and again in the morning, when she woke to find him hard. The wildlings were stirring by then, and several could not help but notice what was going on beneath the pile of furs. Jarl told them to be quick about it, before he had to throw a pail of water over them. Like a pair of rutting dogs, Jon thought afterward. Was that what he’d become?  —A Storm of Swords - Jon III

Sansa woke and found the old blind dog beside her once again. “I wish that you were Lady,” she said. —A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI

Just look at that, Jon and Sansa telling us that they are wolves and common dogs aren't good mates for wolves. Wolves must mate with wolves.

Then you said: "Burn wounds (Jon on his right arm/Hound on the right side of his face)"

If I'm not remembering wrong, Jon only got his hand burned, that's why he started to use gloves and flex his hand because his scarred fingers got stiff and clumsy. And the hound also have a burned arm, don't remember what side, but it happened during the trial by combat with Beric Dondarrion. And here I can accept the similarity of getting a hand/an arm burned while fighting against someone who is dead [a man resurrected by the Others (ICE)/a man resurrected by R'hllor (FIRE)]. But this is something that has not direct link with Sansa.

The link between Jon and hound with the death is something that I can't deny, Jon called his direwolf Ghost and he was supposedly "murdered" by his brothers of the Night's Watch, while the hound called his horse Stranger and he metaphorically died at the Quiet Island. But they both share this connection with the death with Arya, who now serves the God of Death, not Sansa.

I know that Lady (a part of Sansa) is also dead and now is referred as Lady's Shade (a synonym of Ghost), but I think this is a particular connection with Jon. A master without a direwolf, a direwolf without a master. There is also the fact that Lady's bones are buried in Winterfell's Lichyard, in a similar way as Lyanna's remains are buried in the Crypts of Winterfell (They both went south and only their bones came back). This connection is very particular and specifically with Jon.

I also know that the hound shippers use this connection with the death to make their fave a Hades figure for Sansa's Persephone. They also associate the three hounds of Clegane's sigil with Cerberus, Hades's three headed hound. And there's also the fact the the hound's horse is called Stranger, like one of the Seven Gods.

The God of Death???? A God with a magical pet???? Sounds more similar to Jon, a man who will conquest the death, and his magical beast companion Ghost, right????

But those shippers always lift their fave (a back row character) to a protagonist level, so they can compare him with actual protagonists like King Arthur, Lancelot, the Beast, Hades, Vincent, Lord Byron, etc. While GRRM calls their fave a villain in every occasion, his shippers call him a Byronic and/or romantic hero.

But Hades (Brother of Zeus) and Persephone (Daughter of Zeus and Demeter) were related, they were uncle and niece, you know, like Lord Jon(nel) Stark and his half-niece, the first Sansa Stark.

And finally you mentioned the "infamous" "Batb imagery". And I said infamous for all the damage that the Batb imagery associated with the hound has caused.

If I remember correctly, GRRM said that he has used a deconstructed version of the Batb trope for Jaime and Brienne. I don't remember any other mention of the Batb trope for other pair of characters.

The one that said he used the Batb imagery to draw the Blackwater scene was the illustrator of the 2012 Asoiaf Calendar, John Picacio. GRRM never "commissioned" an illustration with Sansa and the hound as the Beauty and the Beast. GRRM suggested the illustrator to draw the Blackwater scene (probably he wanted a more accurate representation of that scene) and it was John Picacio who decided to draw the Blackwater scene similar to the Jean Cocteau's film "La Belle et la Bête" poster (Asoiaf artists have a lot of creative license). And later John Picacio gifted a black and white version of that piece to GRRM and he hung it on his office wall. But of course the shippers made up alternative facts to feed their narrative.

Now, despite GRRM never mentioned something about it, it's evident that Sansa is surrounded by Batb imagery, where she is the Beauty, but there is a lot of "beasts" on the prowl.

If we go for ugliness only (inside and out), there is the hound but also Tyrion Lannister and Petyr Baelish.

In the middle we can put the handsome and gallant Loras Tyrell, who never had true affection for Sansa and even accused her of murdering King Joffrey. Now Loras Tyrell, if we can trust Aurane Waters reports to Cersei, has lost his beauty and lie dying wounded and burned by boiling oil.

But If we go deeper than physical beauty (or lack of it), there's JoJo, I mean, there's Joffrey and Jon Snow. Joffrey is the handsome gallant prince who is a real monster inside (and also a bastard), and Jon Snow is the prince in disguise as a bastard who is also a warg, half beast and half human. They both also lived in enchanted/cursed castles and are associated with certain roses. Joffrey lived all his life in the Red Keep and also visited Winterfell, and later spurned Sansa to marry a rose, Margaery Tyrell. Jon Snow lived all his life in Winterfell until he moved to Castle Balck and he is the blue rose (hidden baby) of the Rose of Winterfell (Lyanna) that was abducted by Rhaegar Targaryen (Bael the Bard).

JoJo are kind of switched a birth scenario that I personally believe is the way GRRM adapted the fact that Avenant and the Beast/Prince from Jean Cocteau's film "La Belle et la Bête" were played by the same actor and had the same face, and at the end Belle admitted to the Prince that she loved Avenant's face (beauty) and was happy that he (the Prince) had the same face she loved.

The hound is no prince in disguise, has zero connection with a rose or an enchanted/cursed castle, and more important, he is nothing like the Beast from the tale or Jean Cocteau's film or Vincent from the TV adaptation. All those version of the Beast were kind, gentle and cultured despite their beastly appearance, and most important, they never forced themselves on Beauty, they asked and needed her consent as a way to break the curse.

But the hound shippers will claim over and over that their ship is a the Asoiaf version of the Beauty and the Beast tale, inspired by Jean Cocteau's film and/or the TV adaptation, that the scenes are the same, that the dialogues are the same, etc. And all of that it's just alternative facts and wishful thinking.

As you can see in these posts, the scenes aren't the same and the dialogues aren't the same either.

You can read more about the subject here:

Some fanon/made up things that certain shippers claim to be canon about their ship & the Beauty and the Beast Trope

ASOIAF FANART & CREATIVE LICENSE

In the original fairy tale ‘La Belle et la Bête’ by Madame de Villeneuve, Beauty and Beast/Prince are cousins

There is a version of Beauty and the Beast where the Beast is a white wolf

And if you are really interested in the subject, I recommend you to read @princess-in-a-tower metas:

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 1

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 2

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 3

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 4

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 5

Jon’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc Intro

And to finish this post, let's wonder: Will Jon be cynical, temperamental, and beast like (like the hound) when he’s resurrected???? I hope he's nothing like the hound ever.

I think Jon will probably be more wolf that human, but I don't think he will be dangerous or violent or abusive to Sansa. Being more wolf than human Jon will recognize Sansa's as part of his pack, so I suspect he will be extremely protective of her but probably dangerous for others, especially if he remembers that his own brothers tried to killed him.

And we can agree that Sansa will help Jon to reconnect with his humanity and tame his wolf nature. After all she "tamed" a lot of beasts, not only the hound, like Joffrey, when she convinced him to give a coin to the starving woman with her baby's corpse; like Tyrion, when she outsmarted him and met Dontos in the Godswood every night to plan her scape from King's Landing. And she will do the same with Petyr Baelish (or Tyrion again) when she slay the savage giant in a castle made of snow.

Having said all that, I would call the hound and Ygritte "distractions", especially for cursory readers (George hates to be predictable). But in any case, we can agree to disagree.

Thanks for your message :)

about this post

[esther-dot]

I saw your response to the anon who asked why Sansa-antis think Rickon has to die for Sansa to be QitN. I agree with you 100%. I'm curious about the structure of succession in the North, specifically in book canon. Would Sansa technically inherit the North after Robb's death, as Ned's eldest living child? Let's ignore Robb's will for a moment and assume Sansa is out of Lannister hands. Would she be named Queen over Rickon? Or is she more likely to be his regent?

Thank you! Let me discredit myself first: I haven’t studied the books. I am doing a slow reread, but I definitely do not have the grasp on the world that other fans do. So, my motto is, I’ll talk, but I have no answers.

I wasn’t very careful with my wording in that answer. I’ll defer to @fedonciadale‘s post that very clearly lays out how succession would typically go. It is by gender and age. Eldest to youngest boy, and in the absence of the boys, eldest girl. The Stark boys are believed to be dead, therefore Sansa is first in line to inherit, and because they don’t want Lannisters to have Winterfell, Robb wants to legitimize Jon while Cat wants to find a different male relative.

So, Rickon would be the heir to Winterfell if he and Sansa both appeared in the North. If the North declared him king, I’m not sure who would be regent because unless the merging storylines allow time to pass much more quickly, Sansa is underage as well. But, what matters is that this is an evolving situation, and antis acting like Rickon’s existence or a Will is the end all be all, is kinda ignoring some important things. As in, I don't think we can really pinpoint what's gonna happen when less central characters are given enough agency to change the story. We can't really eliminate the issues/other characters because Martin uses them to alter the course of events for our heroes (Walder Frey and the Red Wedding). To me, that makes figuring out the details of how something is going to happen very difficult.

I read the hope of finding Rickon as an attempt to throw off Bolton rule. Robett Glover and Wyman Manderly want a Stark kid that they can use to get Winterfell back into the hands of a Stark.

“Was it possible that one of Robb Stark's brothers had survived the ruin of Winterfell? Did Manderly have a Stark heir hidden away in his castle? A found boy or a feigned boy? The north would rise for either, he suspected…”

and

"Roose Bolton has Lord Eddard's daughter. To thwart him White Harbor must have Ned's son … and the direwolf. The wolf will prove the boy is who we say he is, should the Dreadfort attempt to deny him. That is my price, Lord Davos. Smuggle me back my liege lord, and I will take Stannis Baratheon as my king." (ADWD, Davos IV)

The first quote indicates that it isn’t loyalty to a specific Stark that is the motivation, but need for legitimacy in their effort to rid themselves of the Boltons. If they had Sansa, wouldn’t they happily use her for the same end? Also, note that there is a distinction between being the heir to Winterfell/the North, and being their king.

"The first Lords of Winterfell had been men hard as the land they ruled. In the centuries before the Dragonlords came over the sea, they had sworn allegiance to no man, styling themselves the Kings in the North." (AGOT, Eddard I)

and

"And that's Torrhen Stark, the King Who Knelt. He was the last King in the North and the first Lord of Winterfell, after he yielded to Aegon the Conqueror." (AGOT, Bran VII)

So, we have Northern Lords suggesting returning to a historical norm. They’re offering an exchange: give us a Stark, and we’ll accept your king. This leaves room for the outcome of the succession crisis to be the installation of a trueborn Stark as Lord or Lady of Winterfell with the North uniting behind someone else as their king. Winterfell belongs to the Starks, but due to the age of Rickon and Sansa, maybe the outcome will be similar to what happened in the show, regardless of Robb’s Will or which Stark emerges first. Perhaps the factions compromise by naming Jon (who is of age) KitN, but respect the trueborn Starks (and Jon’s own wishes too, I am sure), and recognize one of them as Lord/Lady still. Jon’s parentage should be a nice little explosive bit of information too.

Depending on the order of events, the Northerners may be highly motivated to defend Sansa’s claim, or Rickon’s, or Jon’s. If Sansa ends up North soon-ish (per the girl in grey theory), the Northerners would be motivated to say fuck the Lannisters, fuck the South, we don’t recognize their marriage, and install Sansa as Lady of Winterfell because that coincides with their goal. If she doesn’t, and if they don’t have Rickon, they’d be motivated to support Jon. If they have both Sansa and Jon and the Will, maybe they defer to it, but Ned never sought to legitimize Jon, and I’m not sure how they would feel about raising up a bastard over a trueborn. Or, say they do deem the forced/unconsummated Sansa/Tyrion marriage as a threat to their freedom. Well, then they would have a reason to defend Jon’s claim. But, it will matter that there are major pros and cons for each “contender” because that is what Martin runs through in AGOT before Robb is chosen as KitN. Everyone gets a chance to say their piece:

“The arguing raged on late into the night. Each lord had a right to speak, and speak they did … and shout, and curse, and reason, and cajole, and jest, and bargain, and slam tankards on the table, and threaten, and walk out, and return sullen or smiling. Catelyn sat and listened to it all.” (AGOT, Catelyn XI)

And who is rightfully meant to succeed is discussed:

"You cannot mean to hold to Joffrey, my lord," Galbart Glover said. "He put your father to death."

"That makes him evil," Robb replied. "I do not know that it makes Renly king. Joffrey is still Robert's eldest trueborn son, so the throne is rightfully his by all the laws of the realm."

Because no one has any intention of siding with a Lannister, lawfully king or no, they start debating who they should side with next, and still they consider who has the better claim. Robb dismissed Renly (who has more support), because 

“He's Robert's younger brother. Bran can't be Lord of Winterfell before me, and Renly can't be king before Lord Stannis."

So, this is where antis get the idea that we want Rickon and Bran to die. But @books-laughter-love pointed out that we could have abdications rather than deaths to get there.

But, something else to consider is that what the Lords want matters, and Robb was pretty simpatico with them in contrast to Cat. She wanted peace, Robb said never, Brynden said they’d just end up fighting again later, and other Lords wanted vengeance.

“Again the shouting began. Catelyn sat despairing. She had come so close, she thought. They had almost listened, almost … but the moment was gone. There would be no peace, no chance to heal, no safety. She looked at her son, watched him as he listened to the lords debate, frowning, troubled, yet wedded to his war. He had pledged himself to marry a daughter of Walder Frey, but she saw his true bride plain before her now: the sword he had laid on the table.

Catelyn was thinking of her girls, wondering if she would ever see them again, when the Greatjon lurched to his feet.

"MY LORDS!" he shouted, his voice booming off the rafters. "Here is what I say to these two kings!" He spat. "Renly Baratheon is nothing to me, nor Stannis neither. Why should they rule over me and mine, from some flowery seat in Highgarden or Dorne? What do they know of the Wall or the wolfswood or the barrows of the First Men? Even their gods are wrong. The Others take the Lannisters too, I've had a bellyful of them." He reached back over his shoulder and drew his immense two-handed greatsword. "Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again? It was the dragons we married, and the dragons are all dead!" He pointed at Robb with the blade. "There sits the only king I mean to bow my knee to, m'lords," he thundered. "The King in the North!" (AGOT, Catelyn XI)

We may see a similar scene in TWOW. Relying on typical succession laws or on the will as the crux of it ignores a lot of other factors, namely, the will of the people.

Thank you so much for the ask!