#(there must always be a Brandon in Winterfell)

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

The first asoiaf chapter is from Bran's pov( Starks' second son), showing us his first time he attended a public execution and the lessons his father, Ned ( another Stark second son), taught him. And then the chapter ends when the direwolves ( the family's sigil) are found.

I love that Martin is subtly setting Bran up to become heir of Winterfell from the very beginning.

[lovebaela]

THE DRAGON OF THE NORTH

Chapter 2: Winter is Coming

prev l masterlist l next

Pairing: °❆⋆Bran Stark x Targaryen OC .ೃ࿔*:･

CW: fem!oc, mostly fluff, and mentions of murder.꙳·❅°*˖

Rating: Mature audiences - The mature moments will happen later on. In the beginning, it will mostly just be cute fluff.⋆⁺��❅.

(a/n) hey guys, I finally finished the masterlist so please check it out! I also recently made a ao3 account and I’ll start posting this series on there as well so stay tuned 🤍

Dividers by @sylasthegrim

UPDATED VERSION OF THIS CHAPTER IS ON WATTPAD

https://www.wattpad.com/1439924205-dragon-of-the-north-b-stark-𝐢𝐢-winter-is-coming

Once the Stark boys came back, Bran said he wanted to show Rhaella something. He took her to the kitchens to show her. To her surprise, there were puppies! “Oh my gosh!” She gushed. “Bran, they are adorable!” He picked one up saying, “This one is mine! I haven’t decided on a name yet. They’re direwolf pups! There’s enough for all of the Stark children, even Jon!”

He handed the little pup to Rhaella. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you one. Maybe, we can share mine!”

The pup licked her cheek. “I’d like that!” She giggled. She turned to Arya. “Did you name yours?”

“Sure did!” She said. “Her name is Nymeria!”

Sansa scoffed. “The name of mine will be Lady. She’s going to be well behaved and good like me.”

Arya rolled her eyes.

Robb lifted up his pup, examining it. “I think I’ll name mine Greywind.”

“That’s so cool,” Bran said, jealous.

Rickon played with his pup. “I’m going to name mine…Shaggydog!” Everyone thought that was an odd name, but didn’t say anything, fearing that they would hurt the boy’s feelings.

The preparations continued for the King’s arrival. During Rhaella’s free time, she liked exploring Winterfell and interacting with the people. Although it took a while for the people to warm up to her, she was eventually called Winterfell’s delight. She was quite similar to Bran. A loving and outgoing child.

In the courtyard, Bran was receiving history lessons from Maester Luwin. Rhaella and Arya were waiting on him to finish, doing each other’s hair. Rhaella liked teaching Arya how to braid. She looked over at Bran, who was already glancing over at her. They both waved at each other until Maester Luwin wacked Bran on the head. “You need to focus,” the Maester said. The girls laughed.

“I think he’s really starting to like you.” Arya said.

“Really?” Rhaella asked.

“Are you kidding? He’s always staring at you. And don’t tell him I told you this, but after the first dinner you had with us, he told me you were very pretty.”

That made Rhaella blush. Does he really like me? Arya could just be teasing. We both agreed to just be friends. I wonder if Robb thinks I’m cute? If only I were older I would’ve been married to him instead.

After Bran was done, he decided to go climbing the castle walls. Rhaella didn’t feel like going with him, so she stayed by Lady Catelyn’s side. Bran’s direwolf pup also followed her around. He was growing at a rapid speed. Lady Stark was quite stressed making sure everything was perfect. Especially since the Lannisters were coming.

“Brandon!” Lady Stark yelled, as they walked outside to the courtyard.

“I see the king!” He shouted. “He’s got thousands of people!”

“Get down here right now!”

Once he gracefully made his way down his mother said, “how many times must I tell you, no more climbing! Promise me!”

Bran looked down at his feet and then answered, “I promise mother.”

“I noticed something, you always look at your feet before you lie…”

Bran chuckled, not denying it.

“Go let Ned know the king is close.”

Bran took Rhaella’s hand and they took off with their direwolf chasing behind them.

The stark family stood in a line as everyone else stood behind them. Jon was to the left of me while Theon Greyjoy was to my right. The gates opened for the King to trot in with his horse. Following him was his king’s guard and a boy on horseback. That must be his son, the prince. The blonde haired boy smiled at Sansa, and she smiled back at him. One knight hopped off of his horse, and took off his helmet. He had to have been the most beautiful man Rhaella’s ever seen. He had long golden blonde hair with emerald green eyes. “Jaime Lannister, the Queen’s twin brother,” Arya said, before Sansa hushed her.

“I heard the prince was a royal prick,” Theon whispered. He, at a young age, was sent to Winterfell by his own father, Balon Greyjoy. He made the terrible mistake of crowning himself king of the iron islands and starting a war. After their loss, Theon was sent away to Winterfell to be Lord Stark’s ward. Theon always viewed himself as a prisoner.

Then, came in the carriage with the Queen inside. She exited out of the carriage, looking slightly annoyed.

“Where’s the imp?” Arya asked Sansa.

“Please, just shut up!” Sansa asked.

We all bowed before the king and Queen as they made their way to Lord Stark. The King said hello to every member of the family. He made eye contact with Rhaella. She stiffened, not knowing what to do. “My king,” she said, curtsying. He gave a simple nod, and went about his way into the crypts with Lord Stark.

“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jon said, messing with her hair. She let out a relieved sigh, “no, thank goodness.”

Lady Stark had Rhaella, Arya, and Sansa get ready for the feast together.

“The prince is so handsome…” Sansa said, blushing. “I can’t believe the king wants me to marry him! Can we marry now or do we have to wait?”

Her mother stopped brushing her hair, “gods Sansa, your father hasn’t even made a decision yet!”

She turned to her, “please tell him to say yes! It’s all I could ever want!”

Lady Stark nodded, “we’ll see.”

Arya rolled her eyes, “not everything is about boys.”

Rhaella finally finished making her dress. The dress was a delicate light blue with a beautiful dragon embroidered on the neckline.

“That looks amazing!” Arya said.

“Thanks, learned from the best,” Rhaella replied smiling at Sansa.

“I suck at making my dresses…” Arya said.

“You still look very beautiful,” Lady Stark said. “You all do.”

Rhaella made her way to the Great Hall for the feast. She had to sit with Jon and the stable boys. “I like the dress,” Jon said. “Made it yourself?”

Rhaella nodded with a smile. Jon’s wolf, Ghost, laid his head on Rhaella’s lap.

“I guess Ghost likes it too,” Jon laughed.

“Do you boy?” She asked the white direwolf as it wagged its tail. Ghost was the runt of the litter and albino with red eyes. Jon named him ghost because he barely makes a sound.

Everyone watched as the Stark family entered the great hall one by one after the King and Queen. A few of them walked in with the King’s children. Robb with Princess Marcella, Sansa with Prince Joffrey, and Arya with Prince Tommen. The feast finally began.

Rhaella noticed Queen Cersei looking at her. Lady Catelyn gave a little nod, hinting her to come over. Rhaella took a deep breath and made her way over. Once she was before them, she curtsied. “My Queen, my Lady,” Rhaella said.

“Why aren’t you a precious thing?” The Queen asked. “Rhaella, isn’t it? Surely, a beautiful thing like you shouldn’t be hiding in the North, where it’s cold.��

“T-Thank you, my Queen! You look very beautiful yourself.” Rhaella smiled. The Queen had long gorgeous golden blonde hair and emerald green eyes. She truly was a sight to see.

“And your smile, like the sun entered the room and exploded,” the Queen added. “You’re free to go, and would you be a dear and tell Sansa to come over?”

Rhaella didn’t know how to feel about the last compliment, but curtsied again before walking away. Sansa was sitting with her friend Jeyne Poole, giggling and whispering. “Sansa,” Rhaella said. “The Queen wants to speak with you!” Sansa’s eyes lit up with joy, “Really, she wants me?” She quickly got up from her seat and walked over to them. Rhaella sat back down with Jon. “What did she want?” He asked, lifting his eyebrow. “Nothing really,” Rhaella replied. “Nothing bad, thank goodness.”

As everyone ate their food, Rhaella looked up at Arya. She had a mischievous look on her face. What will she do? She scooped a piece of pigeon pie, and aimed it at Sansa. She flicked the pie at her, hitting her cheek.

“Arya!” She shrieked. “She always does this!”

Robb picked Arya up and took her to her bed camber as the whole room laughed.

The musicians started to play their music, inviting everyone to the dance floor. I’d like to dance a little, but who would ask me?

୭ ₊ Bran ˚.

Bran watched as men brought their lady partners to the floor to dance. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder. “You should ask Rhaella to dance,” Robb said. “I think it would make her very happy.”

“She is your betrothed after all,” Theon added, teasing Bran.

Bran’s cheeks went red, “s-stop teasing me! What if she says no?”

“Believe me, she wouldn’t,” Robb said. “Besides, you should never be afraid of rejection.”

Easy for you to say, all the girls love you, even her…

Bran nodded and got up from his seat. He walked over to Rhaella, offering his hand, “Gaomagon jaelā naejot lilagon lēda nyke?”

She smiled and nodded, “Kessa!”

They both made their way to the dance floor, and began to mimic the moves of the pairs. “The dancing lessons really paid off,” she said. Bran agreed, “yeah! We’re doing good!”

The two of them continued to dance. “Bran, I think everyone is watching us!” She whispered. He glanced around the room. She was right, everybody was watching, even the king. “Don’t worry about them, just focus on me,” he told her. Everybody began to cheer for them, including the other Starks.

“That’s my brother!” Robb yelled.

That’s so embarrassing…

Rhaella laughed, making Bran blush.

୭ ₊ Rhaella ˚.

Once the song was over, Rhaella and Bran went back to their seats. Where’s Jon? She hopped off her seat and searched for him. She walked outside to find him training with his sword. “There you are,” Rhaella said. “You missed me and Bran dancing!”

“Don’t worry, I saw you two before I left outside. You both did great.” He said.

“I wish you could have danced with us.” She admitted.

They both heard another song playing from inside. Jon placed down his sword, and offered his hand, “well then, my lady, may I have this dance,” he asked, in a silly voice. Rhaella laughed and accepted. They both danced until the song was over. Rhaella and Bran went to Arya’s bed chamber to read another Targaryen story before going to bed. Arya set up a tent with her blanket so they could lay on their bellies on the floor. “We didn’t finish the dance of the dragons!” Arya said. “We left off on the part where Prince Jacerys went to Winterfell.”

Rhaella began to read from the book, “well it says here that he met Lord Cregan Stark, who also lost his younger brother. Jacerys reminded him so much of his sibling that they formed a brotherhood and they made the—”

“The pact of Ice and Fire.” They heard a voice say. All of a sudden, the blanket was yanked from above making the children scream. “It’s just me,” Lord Stark said. “All of you should be sleeping you know.”

“After this part of the story.” Bran said. “Please?”

Their father chuckled, “alright then, the pact was made between them to show the North’s support for the blacks during the dance. The Prince said once he’d have a daughter, she would marry Cregan’s son.”

“Did it happen?” Rhaella asked.

“No, the Prince died shortly after during a battle.” He answered.

Arya frowned, “so the pact was never fulfilled?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said messing with her hair. “That’s what war does, nothing but destruction and death. I despise it.”

“Imagine what it was like to have a war with that many dragons,” Bran said. “Maybe I don’t want to imagine it.”

Lord Stark agreed, “the poor dragons were the key ‘weapons’ in that war, nearly wiping all of them out.”

“And now they’re all gone.” Rhaella said.

“Perhaps they are,” he said. “Now, time for bed all of you.” Bran and Rhaella left the room and went to their own.

The next day, the girls had embroidery lessons with Princess Marcella. Nearly the whole time Sansa was giggling and whispering to her friends Jayne and Beth.

“What’s so funny?” Arya asked. “Tell me what y’all are giggling about!”

“The prince,” Sansa blushed. “He was very handsome at the feast. He even stared me.”

“I’m sure he also saw you get pigeon pied to the face,” Arya snickered. “Besides, Jon said he’s a spoiled brat.”

Sansa rolled her eyes, “Jon is just jealous that he is a bastard and not a prince!”

Arya and Rhaella gasped.

“Sansa, that’s so mean!” Rhaella said.

“It’s the truth,” Sansa said. “And I will be queen someday.”

Arya grabbed Rhaella’s hand, “let’s go see what Bran is up to!”

They made their way into the courtyard. They found the Stark and Baratheon boys together. Bran and Tommen were heavily padded with wooden swords.

They called for him and waved. “Good luck brother!” Arya yelled.

As the two boys were fighting, everyone could sense the tension between Robb and Prince Joffrey. They were smack talking each other the whole time. Their fight would certainly be interesting.

“I wish we could do that,” Arya sighed. “It would be fun!”

Rhaella agreed, “yeah, but alas, we are girls. Some books I’ve read said that outside of Westeros there are places where women are allowed to do anything men can.”

“I’d like to go there sometime.” She said.

“Same here.”

Tommen fell to the ground as Bran held his wooden sword at him. Wow, Bran would have made a great knight of the kingsguard, Rhaella said to herself. Then I showed up and ruined everything…

When it became dawn, the King and Lord Stark were leaving for a hunt with Robb and Theon following them. Bran and Rhaella watched as they trotted away on horseback. Lord Stark looked at them to wave goodbye. They smiled back and watched as the party left.

“My father will be hand of the king,” Bran said. “He’s leaving to King’s Landing tomorrow. He’s going to take us with him. Mother didn’t want me to go, but father thought that I could calm down the feud between Joffrey and Robb.”

“Did he mention me?” Rhaella asked. As scared as she was of the king, the Starks truly had become a family to her. She didn’t want to lose them.

“I asked father, they are still making a decision.” He said. “I’m sure the king will say yes. You are my betrothed after all.”

Bored, Bran and Rhaella explored Winterfell’s castle. They visited the stables where Hodor, a large and tall man, attended to Bran’s pony. Hodor was truly a mystery. All he ever said was ‘Hodor.’ No one knows why.

“I’ll have to leave him behind,” Bran said as he looked at the pony. Rhaella turned to Bran and noticed water in his eyes. She held his hand, whispering, “hey, it’s going to be okay.”

Bran sniffed, “sorry, I shouldn’t be crying. Boys don’t cry.”

“Everyone cries, Bran,” she reminded him. “There’s no shame in that.” She knew he wouldn’t believe her, but it wouldn’t hurt to try comforting a friend.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to leave,” he admitted. “This is my home. My real home.”

There was that word again, ‘home.’

Where’s my home?

The stable boys noticed the Stark boy crying and began to snicker. “What a baby!” One of them laughed. “Shut up!” Rhaella shouted. “That ‘baby’ is more important than any of you will ever be!” She grabbed Bran’s hand and they both took off.

The two children grew bored again, thinking of what to do next.

Bran gave her a mischievous smirk, “you wanna go climbing?”

“Bran, your mother said no!” She reminded him. “And I don’t feel like climbing right now…I’ll just watch.”

His direwolf pup began to chew on his shoe. “Come on you!” He told the pup. They found an abandoned tower in the distance. Bran pointed at it, “I’m going to climb that one!” Once they got there, Bran started climbing. Never once had he ever fell from climbing. Never.

Once Bran made it to the window, he looked confused. Before Rhaella could ask if something was wrong, she saw Bran get dragged in by a hand. Without thinking, she began to climb herself up the tower. She was halfway there until Bran was pushed from the window. She swiftly grabbed his hand, “hang on.” She held on as much as she could. “We’re going to fall!” He shouted. Her fingers began to slip from the wall. “We’re going to be okay—” she started to say until her fingers completely slipped off the wall. They both held onto each other as their bodies hit the ground. Everything went black.

“Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!”

Confused, Rhaella woke up in a crowd of people. They were all shouting at someone. She turned to where they were all facing and gasped. It was Sansa, the Queen, and Joffrey with his kingsguard. Except, Joffrey wore the crown of the king. Is this Kingslanding? “No!” Sansa yelled. “Please don’t do this!” Lord Stark was being executed! Rhaella wanted to shout, but she couldn’t. No! The knight drew out his sword, and lifted it up. Rhaella turned away, covering her eyes, before seeing his head get sliced off. What is going on?

“Dany, please!” A voice begged in fear.

Viserys?

She removed her hands to investigate, only to be in a completely different spot. She was inside a tent with many men and women. She knew it wasn’t Westeros due to the majority of people having darker skin with unfamiliar accents. There Viserys was, on his knees as two other men restrained him from moving. “A crown of a king,” The tall man said. He held a pot of melted gold over Viserys’ head and poured it over him. He screamed in agony until he could no longer say anything. His head slammed to the ground. He was dead!

“He was no dragon.”

Rhaella turned back to see Dany. She showed no emotion whatsoever after what just happened.

“Fire cannot kill a dragon,” she said, staring at his lifeless body.

There was a loud screech from the sky, startling Rhaella. Once she looked up, she couldn’t believe what was there before her. It was a dragon! The scales of the creature was a beautiful deep shade of blue, with a lighter shade going down its neck and under its wings. The dragon opened its mouth, letting out blue flames at her.

Rhaella let out a small groan. Her vision, at first, was blurry. All she could hear was a gasp.

“Gods be good!” A familiar voice exclaimed.

“My…lady?” Rhaella asked.

“Yes, sweet girl. It’s me.” She said.

Rhaella tried to stand, but she was weak.

“No, you need your rest.” She said. Rhaella could tell Lady Stark was relieved, but not completely. Bran was still sleeping in a bed next to hers.

“How long has it been?” Rhaella asked.

“A couple of days.” She answered. “You were in a coma.”

Rhaella’s stomach let out a vicious growl. She didn’t realize how hungry she was.

“You poor thing, all we could give the both you was honey and water while you were sleeping,” Lady Stark explained. “I’ll have someone bring food from the kitchen.”

“I tried to not let go,” Rhaella explained. “I was holding onto his hand while gripping the wall with my other hand.”

“Do you remember anything else before that?” She asked.

“Well, all I remember was him falling from the tower. He could have been pushed, but I didn’t see…”

That made Lady Stark want to ask more questions, but Rhaella didn’t have a lot of answers. They all left. Lord Stark, Sansa, Arya, and Jon. Rhaella didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye. That made her sad. She wanted to cry, but refused to let any tears fall.

“Whoever did this to you will pay,” Lady Stark said coldly. “I promise you that.”

Taglist: @lover-of-books-and-tea

[agentrouka-blog]

When one tries to rebut how Sansa wants Northern independence, would saying that she doesn’t say anything in the books about it or how Robb tried and died justify it?

Why on earth would she not want Northern independence? She is literally the captive of a tyrant king who killed her father and who regularly has her beaten for Robb's actions. If ever there was an appropriate moment for GRRM to slip in Sansa's political opposition to Northern independence it would be in ACOK?

Instead we get this:

Besides, the lords of the Trident were sworn to Riverrun and House Tully, and to the King in the North; they would never accept Littlefinger as their liege. Unless they are made to. Unless my brother and my uncle and my grandfather are all cast down and killed. The thought made Sansa anxious, but she told herself she was being silly. Robb has beaten them every time. He'll beat Lord Baelish too, if he must. (ACOK, Sansa VII)

Her thoughts are consistently supportive of Robb. His defeat is a betrayal to her.

She would have fled them both, perhaps, but there was nowhere for her to go. Winterfell was burned and desolate, Bran and Rickon dead and cold. Robb had been betrayed and murdered at the Twins, along with their lady mother. (AFFC, Sansa I)

As late as her TWOW sample chapter, she thinks this:

Robb would be his age, if he were still alive, she could not help but think, but Robb died a king, and this is just a boy.

Or do they think she only supports Northern independence if there's a Lannister on the throne and she would be fine returning to the fold once the next monarch is "nice"? Is that "nice" claimant then meant to be Dany, perhance?

In that case, I hope they don't imagine she'll forget the example of the last time Targaryens held the throne, and what even tyranny it meant for House Stark, specifically Rickard and Brandon, their companions, but also Lyanna. The Rebellion broke out because the guy on the throne demanded that Jon Arryn send him Eddard and Robert to kill.

Sansa is a history nerd. She knows this stuff.

The only reason the North as a whole deferred their independence movement was because Ned's bestie was on the throne. The abject enthusiasm with which the Northerners and the Riverlanders spontaneously proclaimed Robb's kingship is a testament to how widely held and popular that general sentiment always was in both regions.

Sansa herself has witnessed the decadence and ignorance that the royal leadership in KL is capable of, unchecked. She also witnessed how weak they are as soon as a region like the Reach witholds its support and resources. What benefit do people imagine she sees in remaining subservient to them?

The fact that Sansa has been brutally disabused of her idealised idea of courtly culture in the South removes any sentimental attachment she may have held for this political connection, so unless there was a really pressing political reason to consider it, she has every incentive to advocate for independence.

[claymoresword]

Come Out And Haunt Me

Cersei Lannister x Catelyn Tully Stark

Summary: When her raven goes unanswered, queen Cersei Lannister decides to pay the Starks a visit herself.

Wordcount: 2.4k

Disclaimers: omegaverse, alpha!cersei, omega!catelyn, cheating, angst & fluff, robert baratheon does not exist

Note: hi! so i initially only planned to post this on Ao3 but I've decided to share it here as well

honestly not sure what this is i just had a random burst of energy one night and decided to write it lol

to all 2 of you who clicked on this, welcome! hope you enjoy <3

The parchment clutched tightly in her hands, Catelyn skims the letter once more. As though dwelling would make a difference to the words already etched into the page.

An egregious insult.

Nine years; Catelyn had been forced to wallow in the harsh and cold North. Nine years and she had just managed to find a sort of peace amidst her sorrow.

Ned no longer insists on sharing her bed and her children, aside for Rickon, have all outgrown her attention.

She is finally comfortable.

Perhaps even happy.

Now the queen intends to summon her to King's Landing– like a dog.

The alpha is as bold as she is cruel.

I am not meant to be Hand any more than Cersei is fit to be queen.

Catelyn traces the crimson seal with the pad of her thumb, a war raging within her.

It is a cruel jape, even after everything, she still yearns to be in the alpha's presence once more.

To thread her fingers through golden curls, look upon delicate features in which time has certainly only made more beautiful.

Catelyn scoffs at her own feebleness, she harshly wipes the tears that have already began drying upon her cheeks.

This is all folly.

The omega allows her eyes flutter shut for a moment; she banishes Cersei from her mind.

Wringing the letter in her hands as she rises from her seat, Catelyn storms towards the hearth, eventually feeding the crumpled parchment to the fire.

Cersei Lannister; ever delicate and enchanting. The worst person Catelyn has ever met, once the love of her life.

This is what it has come to; for all of her sins, the Gods see fit to mock her.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

A month has come and gone since the queen sent a raven, and Catelyn is content with the knowledge that Cersei has taken her silence for an answer.

She will not go to King's Landing. She cannot set eyes on the queen once more– for the omega is certain she will not survive it.

"Brandon Stark! How many times must I tell you? No climbing." Catelyn exclaims, she watches her son descend clumsily from the roof.

Bran appears unfazed by his mother's warnings, as always. A genial expression covers his features; the careless joy of a young boy.

"I just saw hundreds of people riding down our road." The boy exclaims amidst a grunt, hoisting himself off the parapet before finally landing on his feet in front of his mother. "I saw a large wheelhouse, with horses.. and men in armor."

"It must be your uncle Benjen and his men who have come to visit your father again." Catelyn decides, but her son pays her no mind as he continues.

"They were carrying crimson banners, with a lion–” Catelyn's expression falls at his son's words. Suddenly she senses a gnawing in her belly, as though she might wretch.

"What did you say– about the banner?" The omega asks as she grabs her son by the shoulder, urging him to look up at her.

"It was crimson, with a yellow lion." Bran repeats as he stares at his mother.

"–Lannisters." Maester Luwin emerges, overhearing their exchange. "Is it possible the queen has come to Winterfell?"

The man asks as he searches Catelyn's expression; she has gone quiet, all colour drained from her face.

"My Lady.." Maester Luwin then attempts to coax a response, with a light hand on Catelyn's forearm.

It restores Cat to her senses just enough to muster a single sentence. "Please, inform my Lord husband. Tell him, the queen is on her way."

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Catelyn smooths out her gown for the dozenth time, not having been given much option or time, she was forced to don a dark blue gown, one that her Lord husband often insists match her eyes.

Although the dye on the fabric has now faded, and the sleeves wrinkled– but it matters not. Most of her dress remains covered by her sheepskin cloak.

Nearly all of her dresses always are. The weather in the North does not warrant beauty, only practicality.

Catelyn breath catches in her throat as she observes the queen's approach. Cersei leads the assembly on a gold and white palfrey, she halts infront of the gates before dismounting her horse with grace.

It is no secret that the years have since done its work on them both. The queen is no longer the young woman she had served at court, the same way Catelyn is no longer a girl of ten and five.

Cersei wears a few wrinkles around her eyes, yet, her beauty remains as ethereal as Catelyn remembers it to be. More than anything, the sight of the alpha makes her ache; she has no choice but to focus her gaze elsewhere.

“Winterfell is yours, Your Grace.” Ned declares after placing a chaste kiss on the back of the queen's hand.

He remains kneeling on the ground as Cersei studies him. She regards him with a piercing emerald stare before instructing him to rise.

“I hope you can forgive my sudden attendance, I have rather urgent business with your wife.” The queen avows, not appearing to be sorry at all.

Whilst Ned is visibly taken aback by Cersei's declaration, any doubt or query he may have on the matter– he keeps to himself.

The Lord of Winterfell steps aside as the queen swiftly turns her attention towards his wife.

“My queen.” Catelyn greets the golden haired woman with a curtsey. The omega only manages to hold Cersei's gaze for a heartbeat before once again, willing herself to look elsewhere.

The alpha moves to reach for Catelyn's hand, but as though just only recalling the importance of propriety, she stops herself.

Cersei is not given a chance to do much else before her wife falls in next to her.

Taena smiles brightly as she envelopes Catelyn within her embrace, without much warning. “Cat, it's been far too long!” The Myrish woman exclaims.

Catelyn feigns a smile of her own, out of courtesy, she embraces the queen consort in return.

“You are just glowing.” Taena states as she breaks away to look at her. Catelyn soon feels a hand upon her cheek.

The omega wears a bashful expression; one that is just as contrived as the other woman's attempt at a compliment.

She gently pries Taena's hand away from her face. “You are far too gracious.. you look well yourself, Your Grace.”

Taena sighs, as though she wishes for Catelyn's words to be true. “Oh, please, I look a fright.”

“We have been travelling for weeks.” She adds, and the glare Taena throws at her wife calls attention to the barely concealed asperity within her tone.

Yet, Cersei only smiles in return, no doubt her way of retaliating to Taena's grievance is to simply ignore it entirely.

She addresses Ned instead. “My Lady wife and I hope to lay in a proper bed tonight.”

“Of course, Your Grace. We have rooms enough to accommodate you both.. and your children, if it please you.” Ned states curtly as he ushers the queen through the gates.

“Good, I look forward to seeing your castle.”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

After a busy morning, Catelyn had decided to lock herself away in her solar for the remainder of the day. In truth, aside for a desperate solution to escaping the queen and her lady wife– solitude was also the only way Catelyn could avoid Ned's incessant questioning.

Of course his confusion is warranted, and her husband means well, to be sure, Ned always does– but Catelyn cannot stand to lie to him anymore.

-

As the lady of Winterfell sits by her window, she manages to get a view of Bran and Arya, currently playing in the yard; their direwolf pups by their feet.

The queen’s children have since joined them. Tommen and Myrcella are no doubt every bit like their mothers, both with emerald green eyes of the Lannisters and olive skinned like their Myrish mother.

The sight of their children playing together strikes Catelyn as something that was painfully ironic. In fact, it was nearly amusing, in a rather bleak way.

Lost in her thoughts, the omega fails to hear the latch on the door behind her.

The oak doors open, and soon shuts. It is only when Catelyn notices shuffling behind her that she turns around to inspect the cause.

“Are you hiding from me?” Cersei asks. with her question, she tilts her head slightly. The same way she used to when they were mere children together.

The sight unsettles Catelyn in a way she does not care to acknowledge. She scrambles to her feet, hugging her robe around her slender frame.

"Your Grace. I- no, I'm just not well." She tells a half-truth and she prays for a miracle.

Catelyn hopes, stupidly, that the other woman will decide to leave her alone, without much interrogation.

"Are you ill?" Cersei asks, as expected, approaching her.

The alpha's tone of genuine concern only makes Catelyn want to weep, but she shakes her head, forcibly suppressing the urge. "It must be something I ate." She lies.

"Oh, then you must rest.” Cersei suggests in response, a smirk tugging on the corners of her mouth.

The omega's brows furrow at the sight. She mocks me. Catelyn observes.

The lady of Winterfell decides she no longer possesses the will for feigned courtesies. All she has the strength to do now is stare at the other woman, unamused.

This works to unnerve the queen slightly, as though thrown off balance, Cersei clears her throat.

The alpha averts her gaze before resting her hand on the hilt of her longsword, assuming a confident stance once more.

“Have you given any thought to my proposal?” Cersei finally states it plainly, and Catelyn scoffs in response.

The alpha possesses just enough audacity to appear confused by the other woman's reaction. “What?”

“Stop that. Don't pretend as though you have given me a choice.” Catelyn hisses, and she watches as Cersei opens her mouth to retaliate, but she swiftly cuts off the attempt.

“If that was true, you would not be here.” Cat challenges and Cersei merely shrugs, unconcerned yet dignified.

The queen always does so in a way that managed to make others seem small, inconsequential.

It was infuriating.

“Come to King's Landing, serve as my Hand.” “and you should take Sansa, our daughter will do well in the capital.” Cersei renders aloud as she advances forward.

Now standing close enough that Catelyn can smell the lavender oil in her hair.

“Such beauty shouldn't stay hidden up here.” Cersei continues, reaching up to caress the omega's cheek.

Catelyn stiffens and then sighs involuntarily against her touch. Once again she feels the urge to weep, to scream. The omega wants to lean in and kiss the other woman, to feel her warm embrace.

Instead, she slaps her hand away, bristling. “Don't. do not do that.”

“and don't call her your daughter.. as if you have ever been a sire to her.” She mutters, a scowl covers Catelyn's features as she tries to slip past the alpha.

Although Cersei quickly catches her by the arm before she can go far at all, forcing a proximity between them once more.

"You know that I regret– I regret how it all ended between us.” The queen utters, her voice low, only for Catelyn to hear.

The sincerity in which Cersei speaks her sweet words does nothing to douse the rage within her.

Years of longing and wanting for a woman that has no regard for her honor, no respect for her feelings. Cersei has been nothing if not careless with her; with her heart.

Catelyn does not believe a word the alpha says– she cannot allow herself to.

“Do you?” She challenges, her jaw clenched in anger.

“Nine years without a word from you.. not so much as a raven.” She adds with a raised voice, though Cersei appears entirely unfazed by it, this time her arm slips around Catelyn's waist.

“Don't touch me.” She tries, attempting to wriggle out of the alpha's hold, but it is no use.

"I missed you.. I wanted to write to you, I truly did.” Cersei reveals, cupping the other woman's cheek once more.

“I just thought–”

“What?” Catelyn provokes, unsatisfied.

“You thought what?” Despite herself, she feels her eyes begin to well with tears.

“You told me you loved me... I gave myself to you, and then you chose her.”

Cersei own expression shifts at the other woman's declaration. She wipes away the omega's tears with the pads of her thumbs tenderly.

“I had no choice.” The queen insists, her tone gentle and sincere– almost vulnerable.

“I assume you are happier.. with your husband.” Cersei alleges, and Catelyn feels the urge to laugh in her face.

“How could you possibly think that?” She questions, and Cersei acknowledges the mistake she had made, at long last.

“Forgive me.. I never meant to hurt you.” The queen articulates, threading her fingers through auburn locks.

Catelyn allows herself to lean into the other woman's touch, her brows still furrowed as she speaks. “Well, you did. You broke my heart.”

The omega attempts to shove Cersei away once more, but still, she refuses to budge.

The alpha is stronger, and far more determined.

“I know, I am sorry.” The queen says again, this time she boldly kisses the shell of Catelyn's ear.

As the omega continues to try and fight out of her hold, Cersei kisses her again, this time further down, her tender lips meeting her jaw.

Catelyn shivers at the sensation, just as instinctively, she rests her hand on the nape of Cersei's neck.

“I'm sorry.” The alpha mutters once more as she kisses the corner of Catelyn's mouth.

This time, she does not fight the urge. Catelyn turns her head, capturing the other woman's lips with her own for a real kiss.

As their mouths moved against each other with aching familiarity, Cersei's hand shifts to the small of the omega's back, causing the other woman to lean further into her.

They kiss for what feels like an eternity; only breaking apart when both their lungs clamour for air.

Catelyn's face burns from the intensity of the moment, she soon wraps both her arms around the other woman properly, concealing her face in the crook of Cersei's neck.

“I despise you.” The omega mutters, almost petulantly.

Cersei merely lets out a light chuckle at that. A kind of acceptance and forbearance; a quality she truly only finds less of a challenge to display around Catelyn.

“I know.”

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Snarl

Pairing(s): Brandon Stark x Stark!Reader, Brandon Stark x Catelyn Tully

Warnings: forbidden love, longing, sibling incest, arranged marriage, marriage of convenience, jealousy,

Words: 1181

Summary: Words left unspoken had Brandon Stark aching, longing to tell his beloved sister how much he truly loved her before he married Catelyn Tully. Honor and the gods made both siblings keep their mouth shut on the matter; never to be mentioned out loud. For even if they did love one another, it was never meant to be.

Brandon Stark stares at the small piece of paper that had just been delivered by raven. He exchanged a brief glance with his father before nodding and rolling it back up. This alliance would be good, Brandon knew that. Riverrun had always been warm friends with Winterfell. To bond the two houses in marriage made sense. However, Brandon’s heart had in mind a different bride.

“Well?” Rickard asks his son. Watching as the future Warden of the North ventures over to the window to gaze outside. His gray eyes were focused on the courtyard below. His home and his heart stood in the snow, her footprints behind her. (y/n), his sister. She was but a dot to Brandon at such a height but he knew his sister well. He could practically envision her blushing cheeks, chilled by the nipping wind. Her long eyelashes that gathered snowflakes on them like tiny pearls.

This kind of union could never prosper.

Body moving on its own, Brandon nods to let his father know that he accepted this arrangement. He dared not speak for his mouth might refuse and speak for his heart.

Rickard gives his son a hard stare before motioning for Maester Luwin who had been waiting quietly by the door. The older man eyes the sullen Brandon as well but kept his lips pressed together. “Send word to Hoster Tully that Brandon has accepted Catelyn as his bride.”

Grimacing even more, Brandon excuses himself and heads to the door.

“Brandon.”

He halts and waits for his father to speak.

“Taking a wife is not the end of the world. You’ll see. It enriches your life.”

Hand on the door handle, Brandon opens it. “If you say so father.”

Her tracks were still in the snow. Brandon had hoped he’d be able to meet up with her, but by the look of it she had already left. Using basic tracking skills, Brandon easily found (y/n) in Ser Rodrick’s training ground. She chuckled loudly at Lyanna’s antics. His younger sister having a fondness for swordplay. Next to (y/n) was a young man near her age. While she had been laughing at Lyanna, he had been staring in adoration at her. Brandon stopped in his tracks, gray eyes narrowing as the boy leans towards (y/n) and tells her something which Brandon couldn’t hear. (y/n) turns her doe eyes toward this interloper and offers him a smile that would enslave any man. Like Brandon himself.

Let her go.

Just let her go.

He couldn’t though. Them flirting right in front of him just made Brandon turn green with jealousy.

Lyanna spots him first as eh marches over to the couple. Mischief makes her face glow as she stabs her sword into the snow. “Well young Arcel, if you wish for my sister’s hand here is your chance.”

The young man known as Arcel furrows his brows in confusion before turning to find Brandon already going for the pommel of his sword.

“Yes, Arcel. For my sister’s hand you must best me.”

“Y-Your sister’s hand?” He blanches and stares at (y/n) for help. “I. . . I don’t-”

Sword singing as Brandon swings it in an arc, Arcel might as well have shit himself. “Don’t be a coward.”

Oh but the poor boy was. He showed them all as he ran away. Lyanna simply laughs at the sight while (y/n) rolls her eyes with a faint smile.

“You didn’t have to terrify him.” (y/n) looks at her older brother.

Brandon replies with a scoff. “Any man who wants to marry you has to prove his worth. I’ll not give you away to some weakling.”

Her breath could be seen as she laughs. “He didn’t want to marry me. He was complimenting Lyanna’s swordsmanship and asked if I could fight as well as her.”

Said sister prances over. “Aye, she’s right. I just think its funny when you scare off any boy that gets too close to (y/n).”

Slightly embarrassed by his rash behavior, Brandon barks at his younger sister. “Lyanna!”

Squealing, Lyanna dashes away from Brandon’s swinging sword. She runs off back to the castle.

(y/n) bumps against Brandon. “You really should stop falling for that so easily.”

“I can’t help it.” Grumbling in reply, he returns his sword back into its sheath.

Fingers weave through the furs that he wore. “You’re much too hot headed. Try and be more like Ned. He takes all of Lyanna’s barbs with quiet dignity.”

Quickly so that she couldn’t pull away, Brandon grabs her hand. “Would you like me more If I was like Ned?”

“Of course not you buffoon.” Eyes crinkling as she smiles, she pries her hand gently out of its prison. "Walk with me, brother.”

There was no place more lovely than Winterfell. Sure, King’s Landing had the glitz and glamour of court, but not true beauty of the land. Even (y/n) insisted that if she were to marry anyone it could only be a northern lord. Like a winter rose, she thrived in the chilly climate; bloomed against the snow and grew lovelier. Only a true northerner would be worthy of her. She was, after all, the first born daughter of Rickard Stark. Born during a blizzard, she proved to be just as fierce as one.

“What did the raven bring? Good news I hope.”

“Depends who’s reading it.” A foul taste lingered on the tip of his tongue. “I’m to marry Catelyn Tully.”

Her face is calm as they continue to walk around the grounds. Eyes unreadable and focused on her steps. “Congratulations. I hear she’s lovely. Beautiful auburn hair. I’m sure she’ll make you a fine wife.”

“I have no doubts, but I would’ve chosen a different bride.”

“But of course.” (y/n) nods solemnly. “Often in life we don’t get what we want.”

He wants to hold her. Tell her that his affections would forever belong to her. But it was an unspoken love. Both acknowledged to a degree their more than familial feelings for one another. The words hadn’t actually been spoken out loud or discussed. Only lingering glances and gentle brushing of hands. Nothing more. To say anything would be blasphemous. To act on it. . . They wouldn’t dare. Not when the gods condemned it.

Out of honor, they suffered through.

“Stop frowning so much. You’re getting married, not executed.” (y/n) musters up a smile even though it looked like it pained her to do so.

He wanted to tell her how much he loved her. That he would kill anyone just to have her smile for him. These were words that he had to swallow. “Nothing between us will ever change.”

Looking deeply into those stormy gray eyes, he could see his own sadness reflected back. “I know.”

That must have been the saddest thing of all. He could never love any other woman as much as he loved his sister. No matter how good they proved to be, Brandon would always have eyes for (y/n) and (y/n) alone.

[esther-dot]

Cat was supposed to marry Brandon only for him to die brutally by the hands of king. Shortly after she married to Ned only for him to leave for war against the king. How much terrified she would have been especially when she became pregnant? One thing after is happening and it's like she didn't get the time to process.

Absolutely. Having an heir was important, the books press on that issue a lot, so on the one hand, it had to be a relief to potentially be having the Stark heir, but it was right in the middle of so much chaos and trauma. Cat's entire life is marked by being forced into difficult situations without ever having a choice in the matter. There's a lot of pain in this passage,

When the last of Edmure's foot had shuffled under the portcullis, Brienne asked, "What shall we do now, my lady?" "Our duty." Catelyn's face was drawn as she started across the yard. I have always done my duty, she thought. Perhaps that was why her lord father had always cherished her best of all his children. Her two older brothers had both died in infancy, so she had been son as well as daughter to Lord Hoster until Edmure was born. Then her mother had died and her father had told her that she must be the lady of Riverrun now, and she had done that too. And when Lord Hoster promised her to Brandon Stark, she had thanked him for making her such a splendid match. I gave Brandon my favor to wear, and never comforted Petyr once after he was wounded, nor bid him farewell when Father sent him off. And when Brandon was murdered and Father told me I must wed his brother, I did so gladly, though I never saw Ned's face until our wedding day. I gave my maidenhood to this solemn stranger and sent him off to his war and his king and the woman who bore him his bastard, because I always did my duty. (ACOK, Catelyn VI

And then after losing her fiance, marrying a stranger who might be on the losing side of the war --terrifying prospect--and who might die, she has his child, goes home to a place in a region that's unknown to her, only to find he's installed his bastard there before his true born son, the son she bore him,

He did more than that. The Starks were not like other men. Ned brought his bastard home with him, and called him "son" for all the north to see. When the wars were over at last, and Catelyn rode to Winterfell, Jon and his wet nurse had already taken up residence. (AGOT, Catelyn II)

Trauma, terror, trauma, terror. The things she could have thought that implied! I totally agree she didn't have the opportunity to process any of this. I don't think Ned processed his trauma either. I was really struck by Brandon's presence in their marriage all these years later. Even though they've come to love each other, Ned can't seem to move past his insecurity and guilt, he's living a life that was never meant to be his:

Brandon had been twenty when he died, strangled by order of the Mad King Aerys Targaryen only a few short days before he was to wed Catelyn Tully of Riverrun. His father had been forced to watch him die. He was the true heir, the eldest, born to rule. (AGOT, Eddard I)

She finished for him. "… crown prince, and heir to the Iron Throne. And I was only twelve when my father promised me to your brother Brandon." That brought a bitter twist to Ned's mouth. "Brandon. Yes. Brandon would know what to do. He always did. It was all meant for Brandon. You, Winterfell, everything. He was born to be a King's Hand and a father to queens. I never asked for this cup to pass to me." "Perhaps not," Catelyn said, "but Brandon is dead, and the cup has passed, and you must drink from it, like it or not." Ned turned away from her, back to the night. He stood staring out in the darkness, watching the moon and the stars perhaps, or perhaps the sentries on the wall. Catelyn softened then, to see his pain. Eddard Stark had married her in Brandon's place, as custom decreed, but the shadow of his dead brother still lay between them, as did the other, the shadow of the woman he would not name, the woman who had borne him his bastard son. (AGOT, Catelyn II)

Neither was able to fully process and move past the trauma their marriage was created by and in. That tragic context for their relationship makes what it became so much more beautiful though, and this passage, all the more touching:

And was it really such a terrible thing, to want a pretty wife? She remembered her own childish disappointment, the first time she had laid eyes on Eddard Stark. She had pictured him as a younger version of his brother Brandon, but that was wrong. Ned was shorter and plainer of face, and so somber. He spoke courteously enough, but beneath the words she sensed a coolness that was all at odds with Brandon, whose mirths had been as wild as his rages. Even when he took her maidenhood, their love had more of duty to it than of passion. We made Robb that night, though; we made a king together. And after the war, at Winterfell, I had love enough for any woman, once I found the good sweet heart beneath Ned's solemn face. (ASOS, Catelyn V)

Not merely a good heart, a sweet heart. Not merely a survivable marriage, but love.

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Idk if you’re taking prompts but I just thought about this and 👀

Early in their marriage Ned is already hopelessly in love with Catelyn but he doesn’t think she feels the same and fears she still years for his brother. So when she tells him she’s pregnant again (Sansa) and that she hopes it’s a boy for them to name after Brandon, Ned gets sick with jealously and insecurity and even more sick that he feels like this way, because he knows Catelyn wasn’t supposed to be his wife anyways ✨

I didn’t think of an particular ending so if you want to write this prompt at any point you can get creative. I just LOVE jealous!Ned

I’m always taking prompts! I can’t always fulfil them very quickly and sometimes I never get to them, but it’s always worth throwing me an ask if you have an idea <3

Here is Ned being jealous and insecure with a sweet ending because I just had to. Enjoy!

The first time Ned had ever laid eyes upon his wife was on their wedding day, though he had learned of her long before that. He had never met her gaze before they swore themselves to one another, though he had heard of how blue her eyes were. He had never touched her hair before they took to bed on their wedding night, though he had been told of how soft it was.

He had been fostered in the Vale for years when the betrothal between Brandon and Catelyn was decided upon. He had received the news of it not much later in a letter from his father. Then, not long thereafter, he had been sent a letter from Brandon. By then Brandon had met his future wife and wrote of how she wasn’t a woman grown yet, though that she would be lovely once she was. Blue eyes one could drown in, auburn hair, a face that would be beautiful once she grew into it. Sweet and well mannered with a good head on her shoulder.

When he read the letter Ned had imagined what the girl, Catelyn Tully, looked like. What she was like. He had not paid it much more mind, it had not mattered to him. Why would it? He had not himself been a man grown yet, he had had other concerns. So small and feeble he could not even remember what they were, though they had seemed great to him then.

Over the years that lead up to the wedding Ned had heard of Catelyn Tully many times. Through letters and from Brandon when he visited home. He had listened with half an ear as his brother bragged about the woman he would marry, it had not been important. Until suddenly it was so very important.

Brandon had died and Ned had taken his place. In the end Ned had been the one to wed Catelyn Tully. It had been difficult to truly see her on the day of their wedding, his mind had been flooded with so many other things. So much death and destruction.

The pain remained once the dust had settled and they were both in Winterfell. Though life was calmer, it was easier to see. See for himself all that Brandon had told him of.

Brandon had not exaggerated when he spoke of Catelyn. She was beautiful, she was sweet and kind, she was clever and had her wits with her. His people took to her quickly and she was a good mother to their son.

His brother had never mentioned if Catelyn thought as highly of him as he did of her. Still she must have. Brandon had been handsome and charming. All girls had wanted Brandon, everyone had wanted Brandon. So had always been the way of things. Of course Catelyn had wanted to wed him, of course she had loved him. No one could fault her for it, he had been her betrothed and for years she had known she would be his wife.

With a sigh Ned fell back on his bed, looking up at the canopy above him. The thought of Catelyn was eating at his mind, leaving him with a weight on his chest. One moment he looked at her and felt his heart flutter, the next he found himself full of dread.

A few days earlier they had been in quarrel over Jon again. She had once again asked him to send the boy away, Ned had once again refused. As it had been for almost three years and would continue to be. Before he had been left more angered than anything else, that time he had felt something else. He had been angry with her, though it had been tinged with something else. Some regret. Not over bringing Jon home, but over speaking so harshly to her. It had not been necessary, he could have remained calm even when faced with her persistence in wanting Jon gone. What she said did not matter, he knew Jon would remain in Winterfell.

Catelyn had been cold to him since, only spoke to him when necessary. He had returned that. The thought of apologising had crossed his mind, still he had not done so. Apologising to her was difficult. Everything that had to do with her was difficult.

Ned shot up into a sitting position when there was a knock on his door. He considered sending whoever it was away. He was tired. So tired. He wanted the day to be through, wanted no one else to speak to him.

“It’s Catelyn, my lord” a voice said before he had made his decision. “May I enter?”

What business did she have with him at that hour? Was it something that had to do with Robb? He could not refuse her.

“Come!” he called as he pushed himself off the bed.

He was glad for that he had not had time to undress.

Even as he had called for her to enter he had to wait before she did so. Enough time for his heart to start beating faster. Enough for him to regret not having told her they could speak on the morrow.

Catelyn was not smiling when she opened the door, though a smile appeared on her face when she looked at him. He was surprised by that smile, by how joyful she seemed.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, my lady?” he asked.

“I have something I wish to tell you” Catelyn said, her eyes gleaming. ”May I sit?”

The way her joy made him feel somewhat suspicious sickened him. Why was he not happy that she was happy?

”Of course.”

He gestured towards the two chairs by the bedchamber’s hearth and Catelyn immediately moved to sit. She sat on the very edge of the seat, folding her hands in her lap.

Something in him wished to resist when he followed her lead and sat in the other chair.

”What did you wish to tell me, my lady?”

”I have been wanting to tell you all day” she began. ”Though I waited for a good moment to do so and that moment never presented itself. Forgive me for disturbing you so late in the day, my lord, I simply could not wait any longer.”

”You need not apologise” he assured her.

She was free to visit his bedchamber whenever she wished. If she wished to do so, that was.

Catelyn took a deep breath and then paused. While Ned waited for her to speak she left her chair and moved it closer to his before sitting again. That time she did not keep her hands in her lap, she instead took one of his hands into the both of hers.

For a second Ned forgot how to breathe, not made easier by what Catelyn said.

”I’m with child.”

His wife was with child, he would be a father again. Then the happiness washed over him, took him under entirely.

Last time she had been with child he had learned of it from a letter he had read in the middle of a war camp. It had brought him joy, though it had also brought a terrible worry. Then the times had been uncertain, it was no longer like that. The war was over, both of them were safe in Winterfell. They would have another child together, a brother or sister for Robb and Jon. Everything was well.

”That’s wonderful, my lady” he smiled, squeezing her hand.

”It’s still early, the maester advised me not to become too hopeful” Catelyn told him. ”Though I cannot help myself.”

“We shall pray to the gods, both old and new, for that everything goes well.”

If the gods saw fit they would have a healthy child.

The thought of holding their newborn child made him warm. He had not been there to hold Robb, it would be different that time.

On a whim he raised one of her hands to his lips and kissed the back of it, making her smile even wider.

His wife, his Lady Catelyn, the mother of his children. They had made another child together, another life that would see the light of day. He wondered what it would look like, what its laughter would sound like, if it would be a boy or a girl.

“To believe you waited all day to tell me” he said.

How was he to sleep? He did not feel at all tired, he felt alive. Happy, so happy.

“I was not allowed to sit with you and tell you last time I was with child” Catelyn said softly. “I wanted it to feel right.”

It felt right, few things had ever felt so right.

“I am overjoyed.”

Never before had that word been so true.

“I hope it’s a boy” Catelyn continued. “If so I wish to name him Brandon for your brother.”

His heart dropped in his chest and it took only a moment for him to despise himself for it.

He had also thought of that, how he wished to name another son of theirs Brandon. Almost every generation of Starks had a Brandon, and he did wish to honour his late brother. The brother that had died because of his attempt to get their sister back. Still something turned in him when Catelyn put forward the suggestion.

There was nothing he could fault her for. She had loved his brother, a part of her most likely still did. Her loyalty to his memory was admirable and Ned had no right to her.

“Brandon is a fine name” he told her.

A good name for their boy. If it was a boy.

“A fine name for what will be a fine boy.”

Ned’s boy, Ned’s child. It should have been Brandon’s. All that belonged to him should have belonged to his brother. Some of it did still belong to his brother, Catelyn’s heart belonged to his brother. Did she wish it had been Brandon’s child? Ned did not truly want an answer.

Though Catelyn was not looking at Brandon, she was looking at him. She looked at him with soft eyes, and there was something he could almost recognise as loving. It made his heart ache.

~*~

Sansa was her name and she was the sweetest girl in the entire world. Small and frail and the most beautiful being Ned had ever seen.

It had been late in the evening when she began her journey into the world and not long after dawn Catelyn had brought her forth. A healthy girl, the maester had fairly quickly established, and the whole castle had breathed a sigh of relief. Ned most of all.

Hours later both mother and daughter were fast asleep. Catelyn in her bed and Sansa in Ned’s arms. Ned himself was rather tired, he had been awake for a day and half, though he did not wish to sleep. He wished to sit in a chair in his wife’s room and hold his newborn daughter so that Catelyn could sleep in peace.

It was a dream to finally be able to hold his child, the wait had been so very long. Since that evening when Catelyn came to tell him of the babe each day had passed slower than the next. Though the birth had come and it was a Sansa, not a Brandon. Ned was not disappointed in the least.

Outside the windows large snowflakes fell from a grey sky. It was not one of the wild and violent snowfalls, it was soft. The kind of snowfall that would have made the world still and silent had it not been for the bells. Bells ringing for the birth of a daughter of Winterfell.

“Do you hear that, little one?” he mumbled. “They ring for you. We have waited for you.”

His perfect daughter. Their perfect daughter. A daughter he and Catelyn had made together.

Sansa moved a little, though stayed asleep. She was so small, smaller than Jon had been. So little she weighed nothing at all, though strong all the same. She would thrive.

Carefully Ned left his seat and walked over to one of the windows, looking out at the castle. The snow wrapped Winterfell in a white blanket, brought a peace to the castle. It was a beautiful sight.

“A day like this the snow is good to you” he said in a low voice. “You will learn it is not always like that. Though I will keep you safe until you also learn how to survive.”

Nothing would harm his little girl.

“Not a day old and you’re warning her of winter.”

He turned and looked at Catelyn.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, forgive me.”

She smiled at him from under heavy eyelids. Her hair, matted with sweat, laid in a braid over her shoulder. She was pale and had dark circles under her eyes. Tired and torn from the night, still she had never been more beautiful.

“It wasn’t due to any fault of yours” she sighed. “It’s difficult to rest easy now.”

The same could not be said of Sansa, she remained asleep.

Ned went to sit on the side of her bed so that Catelyn could also look at the sleeping babe.

“What a beautiful daughter we have” she said softly.

She reached out and let a finger run down Sansa’s red cheek.

“She takes after her mother in that” Ned told her.

Catelyn huffed at that, though he saw that it brought some colour to her face.

“Thank you” Ned said before he could stop himself.

He had looked at Catelyn and their child and been overcome by a wave of gratefulness. Catelyn was his wife and Sansa was his daughter, and it had not been meant to be that way but it was.

“For what?”

“For her.”

He loved Sansa so that his heart ached. It was a good ache. One he wanted more of.

[asoiafreadthru]

A Game of Thrones, Catelyn II

“And I was only twelve when my father promised me to your brother Brandon.”

That brought a bitter twist to Ned’s mouth.

“Brandon. Yes. Brandon would know what to do. He always did. It was all meant for Brandon. You, Winterfell, everything. He was born to be a King’s Hand and a father to queens. I never asked for this cup to pass to me.”

“Perhaps not,” Catelyn said, “but Brandon is dead, and the cup has passed, and you must drink from it, like it or not.”

Ned turned away from her, back to the night. He stood staring out in the darkness, watching the moon and the stars perhaps, or perhaps the sentries on the wall.

Catelyn softened then, to see his pain.

Eddard Stark had married her in Brandon’s place, as custom decreed, but the shadow of his dead brother still lay between them, as did the other, the shadow of the woman he would not name, the woman had borne him his bastard son.

[noeverse]

Among Crowns, Chapter Two: Bears on Fire

Author's Notes

After having troubles with my computer, here I am! All solved and the chapter ready to go! This time we got a Rodrik POV, which was so much fun to make! Hope you guys like where I'm leading this manwhore trying to redeem himself

English isn't my first language, so please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes

This series will contain canon-typical violence, misogyny and many other themes ASOIAF/HOTD deals with, reader's discretion is advised

Please consider reblogging and commenting!

If you wish to be tagged, tell me in the notes!

This series will be attached to my other parallel series, 'burning bridges (of a kingdom fallen)' which will be published soon!

This series will depict canon-typical violence, age-gaps, sexism and misogyny, infidelity, among other themes explores in ASOIAF that I will tag as the series comes. Reader's discretion is advised

Visella Targaryen is an OC made by @blood0fthedragon who will make cameos and appearances later in the fic. You can check her fic What Will Survive of Us' !

Summary: Rodrik, having arrived to Dragonstone, remembers why he came and accepted Baela's hand in marriage, and gets to know her in the meantime

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairings: Baela Targaryen x OMC (Rodrik Mormont)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Violence, suggestive scene

Tagging: @aeksion-aekse @mini-kunoichi @huramuna @blood0fthedragon

Upon the night of his arrival at Dragonstone, Rodrik had felt welcome, however, he was reluctant of the marriage. He hardly knew Baela, and had heard many things about her, some of them mixed. She was a mystery to him.

After having dined and put on his nightshirt, he went down to the kitchen to a glass of water. Dragonstone wasn’t as cold as Bear Island, but was rather chilly. As he took in the simplicity of the kitchen, he was reminded of his castle back home, and his lifestyle. His father, Brandon, had been his hero growing up. But he had died back in Jaehaerys’ reign when he was a boy, and was now under the command of his uncle, Torrhen. He had always been a strange fellow, now that he had given it a thought after that fateful night in which he had accepted to marry Baela instead of one of Greyjoy’s daughters. Always alone with that man from Lys, whisperings and what seemed like plotting.

He had always told him to ‘be a boy his age’ and that ‘lordship could wait’ as he sent him beautiful women all over Westeros to his bed, or money to the brothels. He had made no attempt to sit on his seat, which he’d always kick himself for.

As he downed another cup of water, he remembered that night yet again since he had set sail, leaving the regency to his father’s friend, Marlon Snow; a shrewd, patient and wise man who had served as a squire to Prince Aemon when he was but seven, then cupbearer to the previous Lord of Winterfell during the councils of King Jaehaerys and who had been his father’s wisest and most beloved friend, and even respected by his mother, the Lady Alys Blackwood. It was said that it was Marlon himself who proposed Alys as wife instead of the sanguine and unpredictable Lady Dustin. It was mayhaps because of him that Rodrik existed at all. He had served his father well, and had given him helpful advice on handling the Targaryens and navigate the princess’ court. His mind raced back to what had gone down in Bear Island under his very nose.

As he left the brothel, a feeling that he wasn’t meant to be there, he observed two men from his table talking. Hiding beneath his cloak, he listened quietly.

“…Aye, it’s true, Torrhen is driving us to ruin while the rightful heir drinks and whores! Spending over the Greens, killing those who uncover him, bribes! Why nobody we sent over to Lord Rodrik has appeared is concerning. He grows more corrupt and powerful by the day. We must act, before Lord Cregan notices it. His men are always near, and they’re sniffing something.”

He finally broke out of his hiding “And, pray tell, my lords, what are they sniffling?”

The men’s eyes widened. Surprise. Relief. Then, resolve.

“My lord. We ought to have an urgent talk, but not here.”

That is where everything was discovered: proof that his uncle had sent an assassin to slay Lord Brandon, Torrhen blackmailing everyone, and how slowly he had sabotaged Rodrik to take over Bear Island, and the deep corruption he had created: violence, stealing from the smallfolk, killing those who sought to restore him, and how he planned to sabotage his marriage by poisoning him and blame it on a clueless woman as a jealous act.

Simmering with anger, he looked at the lords “Find those who’d support me. Steal the ancestral sword and bring it to the Mormont hunting lodge under the excuse of another of my parties. In two days’ time, we’ll strike.”

“Tell us what to do, my lord.”

With the sword and supporters at the secret passage inside the castle, he rallied his men there and told him the exact instructions: kill the traitors, spare the women and children, make their deaths quick. He’d take care of Uncle Torrhen like a true Mormont.

As he casually slid into the room where the men laughed and drank, madams and whores on their laps, many looked up to see a sober and tall Lord Rodrik. Despite his head throbbing, needing alcohol, he still held his head high, and stood against his seated uncle “I believe this is my seat. Thank you for warming it up, uncle, but I shall lead the festivities today.”

Begrudgingly, he got up and mockingly let him seat. Madams that he trusted had been replaced by the ones his uncle planned on attending, although he didn’t know of said trade, as planned. Three cupbearers served a very special wine. Not quite wine, not quite poison for his uncle’s lackeys. He raised his hand, calling for silence “A toast! For today, I take my rightful seat and pry it off those who’d threaten the goodwill of the Mormonts. A new era has arrived, and soon everything will fall into place.” Many of the men were sweating at this new play, thinking the same: he should be drunk and buried in a madam’s bosom, not here being the lord. He smiled. “But before the grand surprise, another final announcement: my good sister Aurynn has been betrothed to Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, and, in her eternal kindness, Princess Rhaenyra has offered me the hand of her niece, Baela Targaryen.” Murmurs erupted from his uncle’s men. He should be announcing his engagement to a Greyjoy. His uncle hissed something, but he ignored it. “Drink, to a prosperous future… and learning not to underestimate my power.”

That is when the sedative kicked in. All of them fainted, and the rest panicked. Like clockwork, his men sneaked upon the minor traitors and quickly slit their throats. His uncle tried to flee, but Rodrik tackled him and slammed him against the desk, Longclaw in his hand “Going somewhere, uncle? Before having a chat with me? Quite rude. Guards!” Then, he knocked him out, and took him to the planned cage, outside in the cold, cruel winter. They stripped him, beat him, cut off his hair and braids and chained him wound tight. As the sun rose, they took him out and placed him on his knees “You stand accused of high treason, murder, aiding abetting, corruption, and betraying your oath to the rightful heir. How do you answer to these crimes, Lord Torrhen?”

Gritting his teeth, he mumbled “I—I only did… what I thought best—,”

He got up, gripping Longclaw “The only thing you think about is your own greed. I’ve read all your letters. Your men have confessed under torture. The others are dead or on the run to Essos. Confess, and I shall make your death quick.”

“I… did it f-for… t-the rightful h-heir…” He looked at him coldly “Aegon Targaryen.”

He only shrugged coldly “Suit yourself. I shall marry Baela to right this wrong, and you’ll be too busy getting to know the worms underground.”

He cut off his head expertly, and nodded to the men outside to do what he had commanded ahead of the interrogation: execute the men the same way publicly as he himself announced the pardon to Torrhen’s prisoners and victims, and his departure to wed Baela… and bring her as the new Lady of Bear Island in three moons’ time.

As the memory faded, he noticed he wasn’t alone. Instead, stood the reason he had come here at all. Lady Baela Targaryen. He did a quick bow “My lady. Couldn’t sleep either?” They had talked here and there, and Rodrik had thrown Baela’s way some charming compliments and always made sure that fresh flowers and tokens were given to her, and always stood by her side during council meetings, where they were cupbearers and, of course, Rodrik spoke per House Mormont’s interests, which Baela seemed interested. This was their first talk since they had sat down and talked about how they felt about their marriage.

Baela shrugged “I always had trouble sleeping.”

Without needing to ask, Rodrik also got her a glass of water, and handed it to her “I suppose marrying a complete stranger isn’t how you imagined your wedding. You grew with Jace, and Jace with my sister, but not me.”

“Bear Island needed its heir’s presence. Besides, this engagement caught everyone off guard.”

“It sure did. But now that we are here… if you wish to get to know me, you only need to ask. I have nothing to hide from my future wife.”

Baela observed him, and then asked “How do you feel about fiery tempers?”

“I like a woman with character, and Bear Island’s lifestyle is cold and crude sometimes. I’ll need a strong wife by my side who can take it all.”

Baela’s eyes softened, an amused look on her face “Do you have some place to store Moondancer?”

“I do. It’s being perfected to cater your dragon’s tastes as we speak.”

“So my dragon doesn’t intimidate you?”

Rodrik shrugged, smiling “Every man in Westeros is a bit fascinated with dragons.”

Baela got closer to him “People whisper of your philandering. What are your honest declarations about it?”

“It is true, but for you, Lady Baela, I want to leave it in the past and focus on my wife.”

“For me, you say?”

He stroked her cheek, being almost against the table, and whispered “For you, Baela Targaryen. You have quite that effect.”

She smiled cheekily “Do I terrify you?”

“A bit,” he casually confessed “every man ought to be wisely a bit scared of his Targaryen wife. But again, I’ve always had a fondness for terrifying women.”

Baela chuckled, her hand tracing the neckline of his open nightshirt “Why me, Rodrik Mormont?”

His hand kept stroking her cheek, his other hand lingering close to her waist “Because my advisers might be right. You are what Bear Island and I need. A strong woman with a fiery temper and a bravery to endure this war and bring prosperity to Bear Island.”

They were close. Very close. Sparks were flying among them. It didn’t help that Baela was almost straddling him against the wooden desk, her hands on his shoulders, almost nose-to-nose. She then whispered “And do you believe them?”

He firmly seized her waist with his hand and whispered back “I am here, in this kitchen, showing you my cards, am I not, Lady Baela?”

“Yes, but can you handle the heat I bring?”

He smirked, rather sinful thoughts roaming his mind “I may be of ice, but give me some credit.”

He could kiss her. Hell, he could take her right there. She didn’t seem to be shy about it. In fact, she seemed willing. The way her dark eyes looked at him was equally smouldering and sinful. But then, he remembered what his advisor had said. Despite his urges, Baela was a respectable lady, and he needed to prove that he could be a gentleman. The order was clear: he was not to soil her until they were pronounced man and wife, and he was not to even look at other women ever again if he wanted this to work.

Taking a painstakingly deep breath, he gently broke the embrace and gave her an apologetic look “Pardon me, my lady. I’ve yet to remember myself. We should go to bed before we do something we might regret… and incur the princess’ wrath, or worse, your father’s.”

Without waiting for her to convince him, he curtsied and left the kitchen, heart pounding in his chest.

Dodged an arrow by a mile. The last thing he needed was to meet Vaemond Velaryon’s fate for thinking with his cock rather than his head. He had arrived expecting a vain and entitled princess to coddle, but getting to know the woman had been a different experience. He had been walked on by women in very odd scenarios, but this was different. Baela was an innocent woman, as far as he knew –but if she wasn’t, then he wouldn’t mind much—and there seemed to be a connection forming between the two. He had never felt the magnetic pull he felt towards Baela. He had many women in his lap –and other most private places—but Baela’s attention felt rewarding. He had found in her a fascinating woman that fuddled and intrigued him. Even if he had played confident, deep inside he was nervous. Never once a Targaryen had wed a Mormont. This was a unique match. His house—his and Lynn’s—tied to not one, but two Valyrian descent houses. The pressure was on from everywhere. He knew she was his duty first, but he wouldn’t be honest if he didn’t admit he wanted to give her a shot, because he wanted to be an honest man from now onwards.

Morning came once more, as he was woken by a servant, Rodrik blinked several times, not used to being woken by early morning, waking up normally at late noon. Sighing, he asked “What do we got today? Seating arrangement? Dance rehearsal, perhaps?”

The servant cleared its throat, clearly concerned “You are to spend a whole day hunting with Prince Daemon, my lord.”

“Ah, a chance to get to know Lynn’s betrothed as well—,”

“Alone.”

Oh fuck.

Oh, fuck.

[queenaryastark]

Arya Stark is her Father's Daughter

Arya doesn't just share the Stark look with Ned. They also share values, insecurities, and abilities. When Ned was teaching Robb and Jon leadership skills, Arya was picking those up as well and we see her implement them throughout her chapters. That's not to say she and her mother don't have similarities. They do. Being similar to her father is not the same as having nothing in common with her mother. She can have similarities with both. But I'll start with one she only shares with Ned.

Insecurities

Arya and her father are both incredibly insecure as a second daughter/son who were overshadowed by their older siblings of the same gender. Interestingly, this is a parallel with Arya that GRRM also gives to Alysanne Targaryen, who he changed in F&B, making her more like Arya. But back to the Starks. Arya was bullied by her older sister and taught that she was inferior to her by the adults around them. Ned's insecurities come from being in the younger brother position for both Brandon and Robert, yet unexpectedly rising to Brandon’s place after his death. Even a decade and a half later, he still feels like he's not enough for the role he has to fill. Similarly, when Ned tells Arya that she will marry a king, she says that's Sansa. We're not in her head in that moment and there's definitely a lot going on on emotional and sociological levels (as well as logically given the current political circumstances), but part of that response is due to her insecurities. Despite factually holding the status of "lady", Arya insists that her mother and sister are ladies, while she is not. This is partly due to her insecurities in "failing" at being who her mother is telling her a lady must be.

Ned's:

"Brandon would know what to do. He always did. It was all meant for Brandon. You, Winterfell, everything. He was born to be a King’s Hand and a father to queens. I never asked for this cup to pass to me.” -- Catelyn II, AGOT

has the same feel as:

“You,” Ned said, kissing her lightly on the brow, “will marry a king and rule his castle, and your sons will be knights and princes and lords and, yes, perhaps even a High Septon.”

Arya screwed up her face. “No,” she said, “that’s Sansa.” -- Eddard V, AGOT

Both of them either have been or are being set up by the narrative to fill roles they were told were meant for another. Regardless of their shared insecurities over their older siblings, Ned and Arya actually fill the societal aspects of their roles well, even to the point where the North is specifically rising for Arya and willing to fight in winter for Ned's little girl.

Speaking of which...

The Common Touch

An important aspect of ruling is making people want to follow you. That involves gaining their love and respect. Those who are best at this are said to have "the common touch". This is something Ned teaches Arya and that she implements naturally through her friendly and extroverted nature:

Back at Winterfell, they had eaten in the Great Hall almost half the time. Her father used to say that a lord needed to eat with his men, if he hoped to keep them. “Know the men who follow you,” she heard him tell Robb once, “and let them know you. Don’t ask your men to die for a stranger.” At Winterfell, he always had an extra seat set at his own table, and every day a different man would be asked to join him. One night it would be Vayon Poole, and the talk would be coppers and bread stores and servants. The next time it would be Mikken, and her father would listen to him go on about armor and swords and how hot a forge should be and the best way to temper steel. Another day it might be Hullen with his endless horse talk, or Septon Chayle from the library, or Jory, or Ser Rodrik, or even Old Nan with her stories.

Arya had loved nothing better than to sit at her father’s table and listen to them talk. She had loved listening to the men on the benches too; to freeriders tough as leather, courtly knights and bold young squires, grizzled old men-at-arms. She used to throw snowballs at them and help them steal pies from the kitchen. Their wives gave her scones and she invented names for their babies and played monsters-and-maidens and hide-the-treasure and come-into-my-castle with their children. Fat Tom used to call her “Arya Underfoot,” because he said that was where she always was. – Arya II, AGOT

Catelyn has this ability to engage with the commons to a degree as well. She knows the names of everyone at Winterfell and at Riverrun, even correcting a person who was currently living at Riverrun. She gives the oarsmen who bring her to King's Landing coin with her own hand to make sure their employer doesn't cheat them. She's always polite to servants. As a result, people regard her with respect.

It's worth noting that Arya shares this ability with Margaery and Alysanne, two belived queen consorts.

Leaders Who Do Their Job

Like Ned (and Cat), Arya believes in capital punishment. From her father, she gained the belief that the person who passes the sentence must perform the execution as well:

The Starks were at war with the Lannisters and she was a Stark, so she should kill as many Lannisters as she could, that was what you did in wars. But she didn’t think she should trust Jaqen. I should kill them myself. Whenever her father had condemned a man to death, he did the deed himself with Ice, his greatsword. “If you would take a man’s life, you owe it to him to look him in the face and hear his last words,” she’d heard him tell Robb and Jon once. -- Arya VII, ACOK

So, the part of Arya’s story that others vilify her for and think makes her too far gone? You know, executing criminals? That comes from Ned and is actually an aspect of her character that proves she is going to be in a position of leadership in the end. She is already administering justice and dealing with complex choices on what justice actually is. This aspect of taking on hard choices and actions isn't exclusive to execution. Arya also takes up additional risks and duties while leading her pack through a war zone. She uses her privileged education to read maps, gather information including reading letters, and doing extra tasks like doubling back to obscure the tracks they're leaving. And yes, she also executes criminals.

Like Ned, Arya is being set up as a leader who actually does something as opposed to the leaders who distance themselves from the less pleasant parts of their job.

So, yes, Arya is like Ned in many ways that are fundamental to her character. This isn't controversial. It's just canon.

[atopvisenyashill]

THE WIDOWS OF WINTERFELL: A True Telling of the Trials and Tribulations of Sansa & Serena Manderly Stark, as written by Coryanne Martell of Bear Island

Though the First Men, the Andals, and most of the Valyrians hold with the tradition that a daughter must always come before an uncle in matters of succession, the truth of this is that inheritance does not always - or even usually - follow such strict traditions. There are variances not only between the kingdoms that make up Westeros, but throughout the world as to whether a Lord or King's wealth and role may pass to a son, daughter, brother, sister, or even a relative further removed. These variances amongst traditions include the Iron Throne itself, where no woman nor man descended from a woman has ever sat, the Dornish and their Rhoynar tradition of age based succession - and, more recently, the North, which holds a similar age based succession tradition.

This tradition traces its origins to the succession crisis of Winterfell in the year 175 AC when a short - but tense - stand off occurred between Sansa Stark and her younger uncle, Jonnel Stark. Sansa, being the daughter of Jonnel's older brother, would have come first when holding to traditional succession laws, as would her sister Serena. The issue was seemingly resolved by the marriage of both sisters to their eldest uncles, Jonnel and Edric, with Jonnel being named Lord of Winterfell and Sansa his lady. In truth, the Sisters Stark had only begun their war of words against their young uncles.

Much of our knowledge of that time comes from the account of the succession crisis set down by Torrhen Stark and edited several decades later by Maester Walys, as well as the many letters sent to close friends while they plotted and planned - and the grumblings of their detractors in the North as well as the South. The judgement of their actions is varied; some called the Sisters Stark overreaching tyrants, more interested in their own power than having any true interest in what they called the rights of heiresses. Those that loved the sisters believed Sansa to have as tender a heart as any woman but with the cold pragmatism of the old Kings of Winter, and Serena an intellect to rival a Grand Maester that she hid behind charm and courtesy. Whatever the judgement of their actions, their impact on Northern succession law cannot be mistaken.

SOME NOTES HERE

The names are NOT listed in age order or the graphic doesn't work. Sue me!!!

My characterization for Jonnel, Edric, Barthogan, and Brandon is based off the very vague idea that the North “lamented” the loss of Rickard because the rule of his sons was “troubled” as they were just, not that good at being Lord of Winterfell, except in this version Sansa and Serena get frustrated with that and just refuse to let go of the North when Jonnel dies, and make their beef the North’s problem by going “actually succession is strictly age and not gender based now, new rule.”

read more here, this idea came from me trying to justify absolute primogeniture being recent in the North, for maximum drama between the Starklings and also to give Ned a heart attack.

This timeline is held together mostly on vibes lksjfd I might update the concept as I go along but I got tired of trying to piece together the ages and death dates.

I genuinely have like a novella worth of F&B style lore to back all of this up. Here is only a tiny little bit of it-

Cregan sends Sansa to the Maidenvault to be a companion to Elaena Targaryen. She is one of very few Northern girls sent, and likely (definitely) sent to ensure she could not develop proper support in Winterfell to rival Cregan's sons.

She is recalled to Winterfell once Baelor the Blessed dies, because Cregan Does Not Fuck With Viserys Like That, but Cregan hems and haws about her marriage match until the day he dies.

After she realizes Jonnel intends to cut Serena/Cregard out of the line of succession, she starts building alliances not just in the North but in the South as well. Elaena and Alyssa (one of Rhaena's daughters, Alyssa Hightower, because it is the funniest name!) help her find matches for Cregard, Aregelle, and Aranna that come with influence, money, and a small household ready to move into Winterfell and loyal only to Sansa and Serena.

Cregard marries a northerner, Robyn Ryswell, to gain the Ryswells as an ally. More than that, it was important to Sansa that Cregard marry a Northerner, because some talk about them being ~poisoned by Southron ambitions~ bc she was raised in the Capital.

Torrhen, Cregard's twin brother, marries Rhaella Hightower, or what Alyssa, Elaena, and Sansa refer to as Rhaena and Garmund's Oops Baby. Younger than her sisters by over a decade, Rhaella is doted on, and comes north with a large household and a small fortune.

Aranna is the first match Elaena and Sansa set up though it's not for politics (it happens before Edric dies) but because of their fondness for each other - Elaena's son, Jon Waters, with Serena's oldest girl. I know there’s the bastard thing but executive decisioning that Jonnel and Edric are excited about it - they grew up hearing all sorts of stories about Alyn Velaryon and they can't help but think it's both very cool and potentially useful to have his bastard son with a Targaryen princess in Winterfell.

Aregelle's husband, Garin Martell, is not from the direct line of the Martells aka a brother to Myriah and Maron. He is however, part of the household sent to protect Myriah when she comes North to marry Daeron in 169, as a squire. Elaena suggests the match and also hints at the idea that she wants a Dornish influence in the North to help Sansa and Garin is like "say no more, that's hilarious."

The match between Lyanna and Galeo Cassel is made by Serena. Galeo Cassel was a merchant from Braavos who made his home in winter town, finding he much enjoyed the cold weather and the odd, serious ways of the Northerners. He becomes a close friend of Serena's while Sansa is in the South, and is rewarded with a marriage match, when he designs a sigil - he tells everyone who will listen that the single wolf is Cregan, the two wolves are Sansa & Serena, the three wolves are him, Lyanna, and his brother, and the four wolves are their children (who haven't been born yet). Being the richest man in winter town, his support and fondness for the girls becomes important to their goals. Yes I worked in an origin story for House Cassel.

Sansa reaches out to every aunt she has with the promise of fantastic matches for all their kids if they back her claim against Barthogan. I simply did NOT have the room for all of the kids, hahahaha, but this is how she gets the Norreys, Umbers, Ryswells, and Blackwoods on her side - all of a sudden, they get to jump the line over her uncles AND they’re offloading their spare kids into other people’s castles. In return, she gets second son Leo Blackwood's own son, Ronnet, a sweet match with a Tully, and they marry back into the family a generation later. She gets the Ryswells a sweet match as well with Cregard, obviously, and will get the Umbers one soon (hold that thought).

Alysanne Stark, daughter of Torrhen and Rhaella Hightower, is their oldest child. She, Edrick, and Addam and Elaena are all close, growing up in Winterfell together. Alysanne, who married Jason Blackwood, is given some land in the Wolfswood to settle, and the two eventually form their own cadet house, at first called House Stark of the WolfsWood but eventually it is shortened to Starkwood. Elaena Soranys, a name she later takes on to rid herself of the taint of bastardry, marries the heir to House Umber. Olyvar marries the heir to House Mormont, Janna, and his second born child - they have four daughters in total - establishes House Martell of Bear Island.

I haven’t decided if it’s more likely that the Martells of Bear Island are just, this random Martell cadet branch in the North that by present day just doesn’t look Dornish at all and has no relationship to Dorne or the main Martell branch, but kept the Martell name, OR if Bear Island is like, just a Little multicultural because the presence of its original Dornish founding member is enough to draw the presence of more Dornish people to Bear Island. I was picturing kinda like the Marches, where you can see through the names and marriages a bit of a mixing of the two dominant cultures there, like a lil sprinkling of southron influence seeping through.

I still wanted to keep the concept of a succession crisis when Dunk and Egg get to the North SO! Brandon still marries Alys Karstark - a match Sansa fights against loudly - and Beron still marries Lorra Royce and has several children (i stole some of them for other characters though). Cregard dies before his mother and Serena, who is old, frail, and sickly, rules in name alone when Sansa finally passes - the rule of Winterfell is mostly in the hands of her grandson, Edrick. He marries a Manderly, and they have one child that lives to adulthood, Arsa, though she has a number of cousins all eager to be her favorite - including, eventually, her cousin William.

After William’s wife, Gillian’s Glover, dies in the birthing bed, Arsa sends for a nursemaid to care for his son, Brandon. Though Brandon dies soon after the nursemaid, Nan, gets to Winterfell, a grieving William is touched by his cousin’s care.

When Sansa dies, and Edrick is fatally wounded not long after, Dunk and Egg walk into a succession crisis. While several first born daughters have inherited since Sansa and Serena's changes - Janna Mormont, Corlynne Cerwyn, Arya Flint, and Serena Hornwood - the very short rule of Edrick and the premature death of Cregard has everyone on edge about yet another ruling Lady of Winterfell. As Edrick lay dying, Westeros’ nosiest squire and most upon knight roll up to the castle, curious as to why every single Stark is suddenly at Winterfell.

Also, here are the invented sigils, the Mormont Martell words are not serious but I imagine their words are similarly metal:

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Ideas #47: Targaryen Restoration, but make it a lie

I tend to go on a lot about Jon Snow as Rhaegar's son because it simultaneously feeds several of my favorite fantasy tropes and because it makes Ned Stark a fascinatingly complex character. That being said, keeping Jon as Ned's bastard has some definite points.

Or: What if Jon Snow isn't Rhaegar Targaryen's son (he just lets everyone assume he is)?

Aka: The Jon Whitefyre Fic

Just imagine it:

The events happen almost exactly as per canon - or at least S6 show canon, up to and including Jon being named King in the North. The only difference is that Sansa's politicking is a little more in Jon's favor - more realpolitik than palace coup.

Jon, however, realizes that he cannot rule the North without Sansa. Jon may know how to lead men in war, but Sansa has a better idea of how people operate in peacetime - to say nothing of a better understanding of the poltics that have been playing out in the south while Jon has been isolated at the Wall and beyond.

After due consideration, they decide to announce that Jon is Brandon's bastard, passed off as Ned's to keep a North destabilized by Robert's Rebellion from being destabilized further. They plan to claim that their immediate family knew the truth the whole time and that Catelyn's distaste for Jon was because of the betrayal of her betrothed the represented. They will then marry as cousins to solidify their claim to Winterfell.

Both Sansa and Jon are uncomfortable with this, believing themselves to be half-siblings in truth, but feel the security of the North is more important than their feelings.

While Jon heads to Dragonstone per S7, Sansa stays behind to lay the groundwork for their announcement...

...which works somewhat against them when Jon returns to Winterfell with Dany and her dragons. After all, it's equally plausible - and far more sensational - that Jon is Lyanna's bastard with Rhaegar Targaryen. That Dany's dragons tolerate his presence is all the proof the Northerners need. Jon and Sansa lose control of their narrative and Jon is declared King Jon Whitefyre, son of Rhaegar and Lyanna.

Jon and Sansa have no choice but to proceed with their plan - now with the added dimension of a Targaryen Restoration - and marry.

The War for the Dawn and the Second Conquest go apace.

Dany is less Mad Queen than Queen understandably upset that the lords would rather follow a Westerosi-raised male bastard than a legitimate princess with a list of accomplishments in Essos. She's eager to accept Jon as kin but less eager to share power with him.

In the end, as it always is with female rulers, Dany's infertility works against her and Jon is chosen over her by a Great Council. She's named Princess of Dragonstone in perpetuity and offered her choice of Jon's younger children for heir. It's not the life Dany imagined for herself, but she takes well to it and grows to be a beloved aunt to Jon and Sansa's children.

Meanwhile, Jon is now committed to the lie that he's a Targaryen king. That his children look more like Starks is explained away by his Stark mother and Stark wife. (Many claim to see Targaryen features in them, which Jon is forced to put down to shared Blackwood blood and a possible dragonseed for a mother.)

Jon goes to his grave thinking that he's really the son of Ned Stark, married his half-sister to secure a castle that ended up going to his second son, and has usurped the Iron Throne on a lie.

Bonuses include: 1) The most awkward Jon/Sansa possible, made doubly awkward by the fact that everyone around them takes their willingness to marry as a sign Jon's definitely not Ned's son; 2) Ned having faked Lady's death years before and her return shortly after Jon is crowned King in the North being taken as a sign; and 3) Jon having just good enough relationships with Dany's dragons to make himself wonder if he has Targaryen blood, and coming to the decision that his mother must have been a dragonseed after several of his children bond with the dragons Dany hatches on Dragonstone.

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

Other Jon Snow Headcanons: Aelor the Accursed | Aegon the Adopted | Aegon the Undying | Aegon the Unyielding | Aemon the Adventurous | Baelor the Brave | Daeron the Desired | Dyanna the Defiant | Jon Whitefyre | King of the Ashes | Lady Arryn | Lady Baratheon | Lady Lannister | Lady Stark | Lord of the Dance | Prince Consort | Prince of Summerhall | Queen Mother | Rhaegar the Righteous

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[attonitos-gloria]

5,10,16,34. Or whatever you feel like answering! Want to hear your thoughts <3

BELOVED COFFEE!!!! <3

5. A dead female character you need to save

I already answered Elia Martell for this and it is Elia, it will always be Elia, but I would save Lyanna too - sorry that this is so predictable, it's just young girls should be allowed to be impulsive and make ill-informed, bad decisions without dying for it. and because at the end of the day I cannot bring myself to like Rhaegar.

10. A quote so good it makes you crazy

OH SO MANY I will give you more than one. Get this lying whore out of my sight and I will give you your confession. I feel like eating drywall every time I think too much about the implications of this one. The things we love destroy us every time is also a great one and then there's Bran with So long as those remained, Winterfell remained. It was not dead, just broken. Like me, I'm not dead either, that still makes me cry to this day.

But nothing hits as hard as It all goes back and back to our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance in our steads. like the insight he had in this moment. oh my God. he figured it all out.

16. Favorite sibling dynamic

Obviously Jaime/Tyrion/Cersei. I hope they all kill each other horribly at some point. But you know who I also think about a lot? Lyanna and Benjen. Lyanna and Benjen growing up together in Winterfell while Ned and Brandon were fostered away, playing with wooden swords in the godswood; Lyanna and Benjen at the tourney in Harrenhal together, maybe Benjen helping her with the Knight of the Laughing Tree trick - I'm just so sure he helped her. Like he took the black after she died. ): we remember Ned and Brandon going to War for her but it always gets me that Benjen was waiting for her to come back home, and then she didn't. I always thought they must have been very close.

34. What’s something people get wrong about your favorite character?

So, I am thinking about how when Tyrion meets Shae, he hasn't had sex with anyone for a year, and how we are introduced to his character while he's sleepless in Winterfell reading a book and not in a brothel (apparently not a sex addict). and also how he notes that his father keeps silent during council meetings, and so he tries to emulate that habit, of listening before speaking (apparently a person who can and will in fact be quiet during critical moments, councils meetings specifically). And I think about how his first reaction upon finding out Joffrey killed Ned is - I can't believe this, joffrey of all people - to be sympathethic and say 'he's just a boy, when I was his age I was also stupid'. I'm thinking of him arriving at the Lannister camp, surrounded by people - his vassals, Lannister men - and going unnoticed, thinking about how lonely he felt but for a group of savage outliers he bought with his gold on the road and then, in this context of deep, profound loneliness and longing for human connection that could not be found anywhere, he went to Shae for the first time, a woman that he bought with his money, and that he sent Bronn to find for him, another friend he bought. i think a lot about him threatening cersei on alayaya's behalf, too. (one of his best moments, i fear.)

what i'm trying to say, very badly, is that george filled his chapters with so much raw humanity, and a lot of it is brushed away by people going 'tyrion is being self-deprecating/feeling sorry for himself' or 'tyrion is a bad person/a villain/misogynistic/just a rich guy' or, worse, a comic relief, and i just can't understand the awful lack of mercy that he's given compared to similarly horrible men in these books, jaime in particular. it's not that i think people get him completely wrong - he is a villain, after all, sort of a horrible person and indeed he IS a rich mysoginistic guy who feels sorry for himself a lot of the time, but then again, are you even reading the same text i'm reading? aren't we supposed to go through this process with him and..... be able to feel, as readers, at least an ounce of the compassion that he lacks in canon??? isn't that the point of his chapters, my God, or am i missing something crucial here?? it's less about wrong opinions and more....... the total lack of nuance and sympathy that gets me. naturally lots of characters suffer from that fate but with tyrion..... i just take it personally. it IS my life mission to obnoxiously defend tyrion lannister until i die.

but of course you know that already, lol. thank you for letting me vent, i'm sorry for the wall of text. you're great for that. i would also love to hear your thoughts on all of these questions.

everyone should ask me asoiaf questions <3

[sansamelancholy]

sansa stark appreciation month : day 4 family

“i’ll give him sons, he may come to love me, she would name them eddard and brandon and rickon. in sansa’s dreams her children always looked like the brothers she lost, sometimes there was even a girl who looked like arya”- sansa II asos

“i must be as strong as my lady mother”-sansa V agot

“she had last seen snow the day she’d left winterfell. that was a lighter fall then this, she remembered, robb has melting snowflakes in his hair when he hugged me, and the snowball arya tried coming apart in her hands” - sansa VII asos

[stormcloudrising]

So sansa is gonna be the villain as a corpse queen with night king jon? they probably will d*e then since every story needs that. i always had the idea of arya having this type of legend love for the songs simply because no one expects it out of her and bc she is like known dead and no one knows KNOWS her which it serves the town folk legend when the story changes everytime and it’s like almost non believable because no one really knew her. but gendry and arya is literally the most normal and healthy relationship ever so Arya’s story could be more grounded and realistic since her character is more practical. so she would probably be continuing the stark line giving how she looks like a traditional stark and be in the end one of the smart minds getting through the world after the others and the winter and everything. we also have that huge pack of direwolves with nymeria as the queen. I think you mentioned a love triangle between two sisters which isn’t something I didn’t think before. Especially since arya says how sansa has everything. Jon returning and being darker, dying bc of Arya who turned out to not even be Arya, Arya being with another (Gendry), having Winterfell and being queen could be the sansa corpse queen and Jon Night King actually being together because of Arya.( maybe Sansa won’t have everything because Jon always loved Arya more sort of the Cat/Petyr/Lysa dynamic but reversed. And I can see Sansa giving everything for a love for the songs. Meanwhile Arya is more realistic and more into doing her duty. Kind of reverse with how we started where Arya is the wicked one who is always in the wrong and is alone meanwhile sansa is the good dutiful one who is almost to having everything friends loved be a queen etc. And it works in my opinon. Sansa is no queen or leader. She can be the beautiful tragical lady of the love songs just how she always wanted. And arya can be the queen of wolves who will also make history and be written in the books. She can be a leader most definitely. I also predicted how it’s only probably arya is gonna be alive by the end. like dany, cersei, sansa, are probably gonna be dead and only arya be the one alive. This is so long. Anyway byee~~

Hi Nonny,

Thanks for reading the essay and for the ask.

If you are asking if I think that Sansa and Jon will be dead as in permanently at the end of the story, then my answer is no. I think that like on the show, they will survive. 

Specifically, regarding Sansa, if you are asking whether she will die, I can’t rule out that possibility. However, if she does, I believe that like Jon, she will return. Her death could also be symbolic, but I think that there is a good chance that it could be literal, and then she returns.

The reason that I can’t rule out the possibility of her dying is because as I’ve noted in various essays, the myth of Hades and Persephone is wrapped around the in-world myth of the Night’s King and his corpse queen, as well as the arcs of Jon and Sansa, and House Stark. Therefore, in some manner, Sansa needs to descend to the underworld. It could just be her descending to the lower levels of the crypt with Jon, which is something I think will happen, or it could be more.

Jon had to die to become NK/Hades, character…ruler of the underworld. The same could be true of Sansa, but as I said, it could be just a symbolic death like the one Persephone experienced in the Greek myth. Either way, she must return as Persephone did.

By the way, that’s why I predict that unlike on the show, Jon will never go down South to meet Dany. He’s never going to go to either KL or Dragonstone. The farthest south I expect Jon to make it is to the Trident when Ice does battle with Fire. I don’t even think that he will cross the river as he will symbolically be leaving his northern underworld demesne. 

Symbolically, that’s why Ned, Brandon and their father, Rickard died. Ned, the previous Lord of the Icy Underworld crossed the Trident and overstayed his welcome. Brandon and Rickard, crossed and went into the lands of the enemy without an invitation or an army behind them. 

On the other hand, Torhen, the Brandon who ruled after him, and Cregan all crossed at the invitation of the southern ruler and then promptly left. They didn't overstay their welcome. When Jon comes down with the northern army, he will be coming to do battle and thus will not be invited across. 

Funnily enough, even though Sansa represents the icy corpse queen of the underworld, she can cross the Trident because like Persephone, she is also of the South and the land of fertility. I would not be surprised if she is the one who crosses and parlays with Dany. She represents Winter and Spring. She’s balanced. In fact, that’s what the Starks represent. They are the balance that’s necessary to bring things full circle and reunified the realm and sort out the issue with the seasons.

If you’ve read any of my previous essays, you know that I repeat ad nauseum that George is always consistent with his symbolism. Some of his symbolism and mythology is just there for world building purposes, as is the case of much of what you find in TWOIAF. However, the symbolism heavy symbolism in the central books and Dunk & Egg generally have meaning in the story proper.

Last weekend, I discovered again how true that is. I was doing a little work on my Florian and Jonquil series, and I started wondering about all the fire and water symbolism in Jon and Sansa’s arcs respectively.

Jon is understandable for obvious reason with his dragon ancestry, and Hades has fiery symbolism with Cerberus, his fiery hell hounds. Sansa is heavily associated with water, which makes sense if as I’ve proposed, she’s a greenseer and the corpse queen as I've proposed. George uses water to represent the green sea or the weirwood net and of course ice is made of water.

I realized that as the myth of Hades and Persephone were so closely tied to that of Night’s King and corpse queen, if Jon had fiery symbolism that matched Hades, Sansa’s water symbolism should find a match in Persephone’s tale as well. However, in all my readings, I didn’t remember coming across anything about the Greek Goddess and water, but then again, I had never specifically searched for any association between her and water. This time I did, and up it popped.

It was there all along and I just overlooked it because I had never considered Persephone’s water connection before. One of her names is Nestis, which means water. It was given to her by the Greek philosopher Empedocles. His teachings influenced Aristotle, Plato, and Socrates among others. 

Empedocles is best known for originating the cosmogonic theory on the creation of the universe based on the four classical elements, Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. These elements were the stand-ins for Hera (earth), Zeus (air), Hades (fire) and Persephone (water).

"Now hear the fourfold roots of everything: Enlivening Hera, Hades, shining Zeus, and Nestis, moistening mortal springs with tears." 

Of the four deities of Empedocles' elements, it is the name of Persephone alone that is taboo – Nestis is a euphemistic cult title – for she was also the terrible Queen of the Dead, whose name was not safe to speak aloud, who was euphemistically named simply as Kore or "the Maiden", a vestige of her archaic role as the deity ruling the underworld. Nestis means "the Fasting One" in ancient Greek.

—Wikipedia

Thus, we can see that George is again consistent. The fiery symbolism of Jon/Hades/NK is balanced by water symbolism of Sansa/Persephone/Corpse Queen of the Dead. And it’s Sansa, not Arya that he’s linking with Jon/Hades/NK as Persephone/Corpse Queen.

Regarding Arya, I think that originally, George did plan to make her the Persephone character to Jon’s Hades. However, his meandering garden style of writing led him to assigning that role to Sansa. 

Will there be a triangle between the two sisters and Jon? No. I don’t think so. I wouldn’t call it a triangle per se, but I think that George is sticking to his original plan of conflict between Jon and Tyrion over a Stark sister, but in this case, it will be over Sansa. That’s why he married her to Tyrion instead of Joffrey as he originally planned. 

While he’s not totally sold on the idea, Tyrion also thinks that Sansa could have participated in Joff’s murder and in setting him up to take the fall. Once he finds out that she was with Littlefinger, he will for sure think that she was involved and will want revenge, which portends conflict with Jon.

I do think that another Stark will suffer a permanent death in the books, this time because of Dany and Drogon’s fire. Considering her story arc as a Faceless Man and representative of the god of death, it would make sense if it was Arya.  However, I think it will be Rickon. 

I think Rickon will be the one because the foreshadowing is that Dany will kill and eat a fish. Arya is of course a Tully fish as well, but as has been a theme throughout her arc, she’s more like the Starks. Thus, I think the fish Dany and Drogon kills has to be either Bran, Sansa or Rickon. I don't think the first two dies, and thus that leaves only Rickon. However, I also think that Arya will kill one of the dragons around the Trident area, and I don’t rule out it being Drogon…especially if he’s the one that kills Rickon.

As for Arya and Gendry, I think that they will meet again. Will there be something romantic between them down the road? Possibly, but I doubt it. I think Arya’s tale may end very similar to how it played out on the show with her spending a few years at home in the North recovering and possibly carrying out jobs for the FM before heading west of Westeros. She won’t rule Winterfell. She doesn’t want to be Lady of a great castle. As she told her father, “that’s Sansa,” not her. 

Sansa is the Lady of Winterfell. That’s the reason behind her direwolf’s name, and why Lady’s bones were returned to the north to Winterfell when she was killed. Sansa became Lady of Winterfell even before she has returned North.

There are many tragic aspects to Sansa’s story, but she’s without a doubt, a leader. We’re shown that over and over in the text from her saving Dontos from Joffrey to her calming the ladies and some of the men during the Battle of the Blackwater among other instances. I think that you are under the mistaken impression that to be a leader, you must be a fighter like Arya, but that’s as far from the truth as it possible to be.

I also put no value in the arguments that Sansa was mean to Arya. Yes. The sisters fought. Yes. Arya is jealous of Sansa and thinks that she is good at everything. Nonetheless, that is not Sansa’s fault, or because of anything she did. Arya is not interested in being like Sansa and doing what's expected of the Lady of the manor. That why try as she did, she never succeeded in being seamstress or learning the names and sigils of the various houses. That's not where her interest lies.

The sisters are different as the sun and the moon, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Most sisters are. Most sisters also fight and sometimes call each other horrible things in anger, but at the end of the day, they love each other. This is the case for both Arya and Sansa. We know this because we get their thoughts on the page. And when they reunite, because of what both have been through, they will understand each other a bit more, and love each other a whole lot more. They will be pack.

[west1rosi]

THE REIGN OF THE DRAGON VERSE: RHAEGAR LIVES AU.

The rebellion starts after Rhaegar takes Lyanna Stark and King Aerys takes the lives of Brandon Stark and his father. Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark rise their banners and go to war. But instead of dying at the hands of Robert, Rhaegar arrives to a new accord; deposing his father Aerys as the new King in the realm, and mantaining his marriage with Elia. However, Lyanna still dies in a bed of blood and Ned Stark, finding his sister after childbirth, takes the child as his own, no one doubting the boy's Stark looks and the news that Lady Ashara had been pregnant. Now, with a Kingdom in a shaking state and the dragon's head having been cut to one (or so he thinks), Rhaegar plans to arrange political marriages in order to mantain peace in the realm.

a few key details:

viserys would still marry dorne to reinforce that alliance after the disaster that happened with lyanna. viserys would marry arianne.

robert and cersei are still married. and while the marriage is not as sour as in the main storyline,they are both unhappy.

cersei and jaime still did the targ and had the three children. however, jaime was pardoned by rhaegar under the conditions he became the lord of casterly rock.

he was bethroded to orysa baratheon (oc), robert's youngest sister and when she became of age, two moons past, they got married, once again to settle the baratheon alliance.

robb stark becomes engaged to princess daenerys targaryen to solidify the northern alliance.

direwolves are still appearing on the south of the wall and dragons will show up eventually, via dany's hand.

theon greyjoy was politically engaged to roslin frey however, he deicded to iniciate another political incident by marrying jeyne poole instead, breaking off her alliance with ramsey bolton (because fuck that guy).

prince aegon and sansa stark are to be wed.

joffrey baratheon is engaged to princess rhaenys, however, he has fallen"mysteriously" ill and soon dies. the rumors is that dorne via oberyn martell kill him.

to solidify the northern alliance once more, rhaegar legitimizes jon snow (unaware he is his son still) as a stark and sets an engagement with myrcella. jon is. . .not thrilled.

cersei still has her main fantasy man rhaegar alive so she is scheming to get close to that dragon's scale wink wink.

ned stress level must be always above 80% in any universe. with rhaegar legitimizing jon, that stress is peak.

robert suspects of the death of his son and rhaegar's cover up of it all and is one bad day away from starting the rebellion 2.0.

daenerys found three dragons eggs digging in the dragonpit. there is still a secret fourth dragon egg at winterfell, but shhh.

littlefinger would absolutely find out jon is rhaegar's son by lyanna.

my wifey mari made this flow chart: