#Brandon Stark x reader

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Perfect Queen?

BRANDON STARK X READER

Summary- As the new queen and lady of Winterfell, you feel out of place. Thankfully, Bran reassures you of your position and loves you for who you are- not who you are trying to be.

A/N- I have not written for GoT in awhile, but HotD season 2 has sparked my interest again! Reminder that REQUEST ARE OPEN! <3

Requested by- @eualiabd @zamwnda

Word count- 1,612

You were barely a noble. The third daughter out of seven girls born into house Frey. Not a single male survived long enough to carry on the family name. What does a family full of women do? Marry off. So quickly that just after your ten and nine birthday, you were the only sister who was unwed.

Maybe being from a low house, and not having much experience with lordship- landed you as King Brandon Starks wife.

Of course, your mother was ecstatic when the king of all men, wanted to marry you. You had only known the previously named prince when he was a boy.

His father, Ned Stark, would visit on business to the Riverlands. Brandon always joined, eager to see you. Even after his fall, you were able to see him one last time before he disappeared for many years. You were devastated when you learnt of his 'death.' When he returned, you figured he forgot all about you. Though, a dozen knights showing up at your door, requesting you to meet with the King, changed your mind.

"A Stark never forgets an oath." Was his reasoning, suddenly a fond memory of Bran and you as children appeared. He, even at his young age, held your hand and swore on his name to marry you one day. To join your families.

At his now official and surprising marriage proposal, you quickly agreed. Any woman would be insane not to, feelings aside, you were helping the reputation of your house.

While your reunion with him was quick, it was satisfactory. He had changed with age and with his new responsibilities. As king and The Three Eyed Raven. Deep down, he was still the boy you loved. Even if he only showed it to you.

The cold air was refreshing, not stiff not muggy like you were used to. Though it took some time, you've learnt to grow fond of the snow and crisp feeling. A trip back to Brans home made you overjoyed. Even if Bran was only there on 'kingly' matters.

A large coat made of the finest furs rested up on your shoulders. A pin with the Stark emblem let all know you were the Queen. A title you were trying to get comfortable with. There were so many duties you were getting familiar with.

That wasn't hardly the worst part, however.

What irked you to no end, were the stares. Mostly women who were in court, or wives of men who frequented the castle. They had no room to speak, yet still murmured and gossiped to each other. The audacity to talk about the queen as they passed you. It shocked you that they were so informal.

You could never get close enough to hear, as Brandon had two Knights with you at all times. You understood the precaution, though your freedom was slightly limited.

"Bran, please tell me what they said..." You pleaded. It was evening, and the two of you were sat side by side for supper. Only separated by a corner of the table.

He looked up at you, face expressionless like it always was. "It is insignificant gossip."

You pushed your warm plate of food back, you were not interested anymore. "Not to me, it isn't."

Bran was fully aware of what they were thinking and saying. Just because he was All-Seeing, did not mean you also had to bear that burden. He would do everything he could to keep away the ill effects of his powers.

"Consider the matter finished." Was all he responded with, very 'Bran-like.'

However, the matter was not finished to you. With enough time, you knew you could get Bran to cave into you. He almost never told you 'no.' All he wanted was to keep you happy. He just did not see any reason to spread negative thoughts into your mind.

You pushed your chair back with a small screech. Taking a deep breath, you took one long stride to Bran's side.

Maybe you were trying to soften him up, you'd never tell, but you wrapped both hands around his forearm. Even crouching down to look up at him.

"I want to be a good queen. I want to fix whatever they chastised me for. Bran, you know I wont give until you tell me... Surely you know that?" You lightly moved your hand up and down his arm. He did know, he just wanted to do something his way for once. Deep within, he knew you'd get what you wanted. It was terribly hard to do anything that upset you.

He pursed his lips, giving out a sigh. "You are a good queen." He leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

With a puff you stood up, letting him go. "Obviously no one else thinks so." Your dramatic side got the best of you as you turned and left the dinning hall.

You allowed yourself to wallow in self pity, something you'd have time to regret later.

Your handmaid rushed behind you, eager to help whatever the problem was.

"I just don't understand why he won't tell me, Tamsin." You sulked on a padded chair while your handmaid gently took the ties and pins out of your hair.

She pressed a friendly hand to your shoulder, "He just wants to protect you."

You gave a half hearted smile, "I want to get better, I've never been a queen before..." You stood to let Tamsin being to unlace your corset.

You both heard a strong knock, assumingly from a member of the kings guard.

"The queen needs a moment to dress!" Tamsin called out, aware of a queens modesty.

A deep voice called back, "The King requests to see her Majesty."

Tamsin stopped with the laces and went to peek her head out. You couldn't hear what she was saying, but she quickly returned.

"Uh, Ma'am, the King is outside... waiting..." She was always a little nervous around Bran, you knew it was because of the Title and passiveness.

She fiddled with her fingers, "You are dismissed, thank you. Please let the King in." She responded with a light curtsy.

After Tamsin opened the door, you stood and watched as a knight pushed Bran in. The two of you were quickly left alone as Bran waved off the man.

You look down, trying to press your dress flat, slightly anxious.

Bran simply looked, the smallest smile present. "I apologize for upsetting you. It was not my intention." He says, his own hands resting still in his lap.

"I know..." You licked your lips, suddenly your mouth felt dry. At the following silence you started again, "Will you help me?" You gestured to your lace that was halfway tied on your back.

He nodded, "Of course."

He pushed himself over, getting closer to you. You turned your back to him, pulling your hair over your shoulders.

"Bran?" You quietly said as his gentle hands worked at your laces. An activity that was strangely intimate and peaceful.

"Yes, my love?" He responded, mindlessly. You let the dress fall from your frame. You stepped out of it, now only in a white slip.

You gnawed at your bottom lip, tears were threatening. "Please, just tell me if I become a better queen?" Your voice cracked up on the word 'queen', tears spilling over.

Hands came up to try and cover your sobs.

''I have a feeling you have been struggling with this for awhile..." Bran says, ushering you to spin around with his hands at your waist. He would never read your secret thoughts without your permission.

You weren't able to deny or agree, but you turned to look at him.

"I have seen, and you will become the most loving Queen the realm has ever known. You will be named for your care of the people." He said, pulling you down into a hug.

"Really?"

You fell further to your knees, leaning your head onto this lower chest. Bran pet your hair slowly, his other hand rested on your back.

"Have I ever lied to you?" You shook your head, still buried in him.

"Would you really like to know what those two women said?" He asked, a finger bringing your chin up. You nodded.

"They said your house was not high enough for you to become queen. They were sure that they would be better candidates." His face was stoic, clearly in disgust at what they said.

You sighed and rested your head down once again, arms crossed under your head. You looked out the side sadly, though starting to accept your position. There was nothing you could do about the house you were born into.

"You do know that I would rather die an old and lonely man than marry another? Right?" He pets your hair once again.

A smile arises on your face. "I couldn't think of a more handsome nor giving husband of you."

Without skipping a beat, he says, "Well, that's because I am king." His expression and tone is serious, but you laugh nonetheless.

It is soon clear that he was joking as well, as he breaks into a grin.

You sigh once more, this time happy. "Can we retire to bed now?" You ask, squeezing his hand.

"Whatever you so wish."

Sleep was moments from taking you, your eyes fighting to stay open. You were pressed up as close as possible to Bran, your head tucked under his chin.

"I meant what I said, earlier." Bran mentions, staring up. Without moving you speak, "About what?"

"That you're already a great queen." Your heart fills with flutters.

"Promise?"

"I swear it."

A/N- Not going to lie to y'all, I hate this one. But, I promised more Bran content! Please let me know if you have any ideas on how to improve! Thanks for reading, and thanks again for the support guys!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Brandon Stark Would Include:

Brandon is a fiercely protective and possessive individual. He takes charge and can be quite dominant in a relationship. He has an intense need to control and protect those he cares about, sometimes to the point of becoming obsessive and overbearing.

He has a fierce love that borders on obsession, and he can become fiercely jealous and possessive of his loved one. He also tends to have a quick temper and can be quite aggressive when provoked. He has a tendency to be territorial and does not like it when others encroach upon those he considers his. Brandon is also fiercely loyal and values loyalty in return.

Brandon would watch you closely, and be very territorial. Brandon would want to monopolize your time and attention, and wouldn't trust anyone around you, especially male friends. He would get extremely jealous and insecure if he saw you talking to or being around other men. He would also be very possessive of you, wanting to claim you as his own and make it clear that you belong to him. He would constantly want to know where you are and what you are doing, and wouldn't hesitate to confront anyone who he thinks is getting too close to you.

He would also be very affectionate and clingy, always wanting to hold you, touch you, and be close to you. He would constantly express his love and devotion to you and would want to shower you with gifts and attention. He would also be very protective, especially when it comes to your safety and well-being. He would be quick to defend you if anyone tried to hurt or take advantage of you. He would want everyone to know that you belong to him, and would be very territorial and jealous if he saw other men near you.

He would also be very controlling and possessive, wanting to know everything about you and make sure that you are always doing what he wants. He would not tolerate any disobedience or backtalk from you and would expect you to follow his commands and listen to him without question.

He would have extreme mood swings, going from loving and affectionate to angry and aggressive in an instant. He might also have a tendency to act impulsively, especially if he perceives a threat to your relationship. He would also be very insecure and jealous, constantly worrying about you leaving him for someone else. As he wouldn't want anything that distracts you from him. He would want to be the center of your world and would do whatever it takes to keep you all to himself.

He would be very jealous and insecure about your past relationships and would constantly ask about your exes and any other men you've been intimate with in the past. He would try to erase any traces of them from your life and would expect you to forget about them completely.

He would have a very strong sense of ownership and entitlement, believing that he alone had the right to possess you and that no one else was worthy of your attention or affection. He would likely be very possessive of your possessions and belongings as well, viewing them as extensions of his own property.

In front of others, Brandon would likely try to come off as confident and charming. He might joke around and appear friendly, but he would also likely be very possessive and territorial, especially if you were around other people. He might try to subtly mark his territory by touching or being close to you, and he would likely glare or scowl at anyone who he perceives as a threat. He might also try to brag about his relationship with you or show off in some way to make sure everyone knows your his.

He would likely be very needy and demanding reassurance, especially when it comes to your feelings towards him. He would constantly want to hear that you love him and that you're not going to leave him for someone else. He might ask for frequent reassurances, asking things like "Do you love me?" or "You're not just using me, right?" He might also try to guilt trip you into reassuring him, saying things like "If you really love me, you'll prove it" or "You wouldn't want to hurt me, would you?".

Brandon would likely try to use rewards as a means of keeping you in the relationship. He would likely shower you with gifts and attention when you do things that satisfy him or meet his expectations. He might reward you with special treats, compliments, or even physical intimacy if you give him the reassurance he craves or if you give in to his demands. On the flip side, he might withhold rewards or affection if he thinks you're not being "good" enough for him.

Brandon would likely use punishments to try to control your behavior and keep you in line. He might punish you by withholding affection or attention, by ignoring you, or by making you feel guilty or responsible for his feelings. He might also use more extreme measures such as physical violence, although it's hard to say how far he would go. In general, he would use punishments to try to get you to do what he wants and to make sure you don't defy him or try to leave the relationship.

Fights between you and Brandon would likely be intense and explosive. He would likely be very emotional and take things personally, seeing your disagreements as a threat to the relationship. He might try to escalate the fights, using aggressive or even abusive language and tactics. He might also resort to threats or manipulation to try to get you to back down or give in to his demands. On the other hand, he might also use guilt-tripping or emotional manipulation to try to make you feel responsible for the fights and get you to apologize.

If Brandon's family is aware of his yandere behaviors, they might be concerned or even alarmed by his behavior. They might try to intervene and talk to him about his behavior, or they might try to protect you from him. On the other hand, they might also be sympathetic or understanding towards him, recognizing that his behavior comes from a place of insecurity and intense emotions. Ultimately, their reaction would depend on their own personalities and values, as well as their relationship with Brandon and their knowledge of his behavior towards you.

Dates with Brandon would likely be intense and possessive. He would likely take charge and plan everything, choosing activities and locations that he knows you'll enjoy. He would also likely be very attentive to you, constantly asking how you're doing and trying to ensure that you're having a good time. He might even go overboard with his displays of affection, showering you with compliments and gifts to try to win your affection. He would also likely be protective and possessive, keeping a close eye on you and giving dirty looks to anyone who gets too close to you.

As a yandere, Brandon would likely be willing to go to extreme lengths to keep the object of his affection close to him, including resorting to violence or even murder. It's possible that Brandon would be willing to kill for the person he loves, especially if he feels like you are being threatened or if he feels like he is losing control of the situation.

If Brandon were to get married, he would likely be very traditional in his expectations for the marriage. He would likely expect you to be completely loyal and devoted to him and to prioritize his needs and desires above all else. He would likely want to control many aspects of the marriage. Overall, his expectations for marriage would be intense and demanding, and he would likely have a hard time accepting any kind of independence or autonomy from you.

If Brandon were to get married, he would likely be very traditional in his expectations for the marriage. He would likely expect you to be completely loyal and devoted to him and to prioritize his needs and desires above all else. He would likely want to control many aspects of the marriage, from where you live to how you spend your free time. Overall, his expectations for marriage would be intense and demanding, and he would likely have a hard time accepting any kind of independence or autonomy from you.

If Brandon had children, he would likely be a very protective and possessive father. He would likely want to have a say in all aspects of their upbringing, from their education to their social lives. He might be very strict and authoritative, expecting his children to follow his rules and expectations without question. He would likely also be very possessive of his children, seeing them as extensions of himself and not wanting to let them go once they reach adulthood. He might also use his children as a way to keep you close to him, seeing them as a way to maintain his sense of control and ownership.

If you did not want or were unable to have children, he would likely struggle to cope with it. He would likely feel a deep sense of disappointment and frustration, as having children would be very important to him. He might try to pressure or manipulate you to change your mind, or he might look for alternative options like adoption or surrogacy.

"You're mine, and no one else's, I won't let anyone else have you. I love you so much, I can't bear the thought of being without you. No one else understands me like you do. You're the only one who can make me feel whole."

1

[a-libra-writes]

Uuugghhh i misclicked and deleted a post i was working on......... I still remember the prompt but 💀😫 OG request was ASOIAF characters reacting to their s/o surviving an assassination attempt, another nonny wanted something similar, so I combined!

Obvs there will be mentions of blood, angst, and so on! We got: Cersei, Jaime, Tywin, Tyrion, Asha (Yara), Victarion, Brandon, Ned, Benjen, Brynden, Oberyn, Doran, Brienne

Cersei - Woe to the messenger who brings this news to her; the only thing worse about Cersei finding out is her finding out days after it happens. She's livid, and has no shortage of people to blame and suspect. The idea that this attempt is the consequence of her own machinations and manipulations does not to occur to her, or at least - she quickly shoves that thought aside.

She has her sick room moved closer to her own, and threatens the hell out of Pycelle to ensure a speedy recovery. The maids are threatened as well, though eventually Cersei's paranoia whittles them down to just one or two. She visits when you're awake, and either fusses over your comfort or doggedly acts as though everything is fine and you'll be up in no time - even if you're still sickly and wan. Yes, there's ... some denial there, and in rare moments, the facade and denial will melt, and Cersei will express genuine fear that you may have died.

Jaime - There's several minute of disbelief when he hears what happened. Then the anger rushes over him at once - who did it? And where was he to defend you? Then suspicion. Could his sister have found out about you two? Jaime ought to wait until it's safe to visit you, when he can't be seen - but he's never been good at fighting his whims.

Once at your side, he's clearly anxious and discomforted at how tired and sickly you look. His usual flippant, sarcastic front only lasts a few minutes. He gives in, his shoulders slump and you can see the clear anxiety and anger in his bright green eyes. He comes into your chambers every other day, but you aren't aware how often he hovers around the door and hall, eager for the assassin to come again so he might kill them with his own hands.

Tywin - Any attempt on your life was almost certainly meant to send a message to him. That's how he'll always see it, anyway, and Tywin will answer swiftly. He'll probably mutilate or execute your poor excuses for guards, and the maester understands your recovery will go well or he'll be next on the chopping block. Next, he draws up his mental lists of suspects and cuts through them. Tywin Lannister will find out who did this. There's no uncertainty of that.

That said, he doesn't visit the first few days of your recovery - both because of the investigating he's spending late hours on, and because he genuinely doesn't want to see you in such a weak, uneasy state. He isn't willing to admit this to himself, of course, but it brings back memories of Joanna. He'd be more affected if you were stabbed versus if you were poisoned; the blood, the bandages, your pale complexion and low energy all point to the very obvious fact you nearly died, and that would have affected the normally immovable, cruel Lannister patriarch. He doesn't like reminders that he's mortal.

Tyrion - Panic and dread starts bubbling up once he hears the news and really processes it. Tyrion wants to see you right away, even if you're in no state to see visitors for a while. He already has a shortlist of possible culprits, his sister being at the top. He makes sure it's a maester he trusts whose helping your recovery, one of your personal maids he knows whose caring for you, a few guards he pays personally and knows well ... It may seem like a bit much to you, but for Tyrion, it isn't enough. He's still riddled with anxiety and worry that whoever did it will send another assassin to finish the job.

He does his best to be reassuring and light-hearted when he visits, not wanting to trouble you with all the thoughts plaguing him. He likes to bring flowers and books and such, things to brighten your day and occupy you. Tyrion tries to float the idea of moving you to a private manor rather than the Red Keep.

Asha - She's alternating between a quiet fury and outright anger, snapping at this maester and that servant to handle you better. She might push them aside and just do it herself; she can certainly stitch a wound closed, though poison is beyond her. Oh, she has a good idea of who might have done this, but that's for later. First priority is getting your guts back in place and making sure there's some kind of medicine or disinfectant in these islands.

She investigates into who the culprit might be, but still takes time to visit you in the evening. She knows you'll pull through, you're strong - but what kind of lover would she be if she didn't check in and bother you? Asha alternates between a rare tenderness and her usual light heartened jokes, whichever works best on cheering you up.

Victarion - So. The good news is he didn't kill the messenger. The bad news is he's close to strangling the maester that was dragged in to treat you. Victarion has no way of figuring out who did this or how, so anyone is open to his wrath. He might eventually have suspicions, but it'll be his brothers and Asha who will do most of the investigating (if they bother). This rattles Victarion more than he's willing to admit.

It's difficult to visit when you're incoherent and pale, so he waits until you're more stable, even if all these negative emotions bite at him. There's anxiety, fear, powerlessness; all things he's worked to avoid and outrun. He probably doesn't even admit how badly he'd shaken. When you're finally awake and talking, that lessens some of the burden. Then he can pretend you're completely fine, and you'll recover quickly. He doesn't want to linger in the sickroom, so he just has you moved to your shared bedchambers. .... Probably for the best, since they get cleaned more often.

Brandon - He's beside himself with anger and worry. How did this happen? Weren't his best guards with you? Who was the culprit - was this a ploy to get to him? Intrigue is not his strong suit; he can't bruteforce his way through this, and it's beyond frustrating - it's just painful. He wants a culprit so he has someone to throttle.

Brandon makes sure you're as comfortable. He may not know much about treating wounds, but he knows you're in pain and wants to help in any way he can. This leads to him hovering too much, and the maester has had to kick him out so you can get rest. You're supposed to be recovering in the sickroom, but Brandon still wants to sleep next to you. It's half paranoia that something might happen again, and half he doesn't want you to be lonely. Yes, he's the actual lonely one ...

Ned - It takes a few hours, perhaps a day, for the reality of what happened to sink in ... and then the dread and anger follows. He keeps these emotions inside, of course, wanting to focus on who could have done this and why. Was it because of his own doing, or was this assassin after you specifically? He's never been one to uncover and follow schemes, and that shortcoming is especially obvious and frustrating now.

But when he visits your sickbed, Ned tries to push all that aside. He wants to make sure you're recovering and cared for, and while he follows the maester's instructions, he's also willing to go against them for your comfort, like if you want to be moved to back to your shared bedchambers. It's hard for Ned to deny you anything to begin with, he is absolutely going to let you curl up with him because it helps you feel better and safer, wounds be damned.

Benjen - The solemnity that comes over his long face startles his fellow Brothers. Of course this is no laughing matter, but the dark cloud that passes over his features and makes those grey eyes look so cold is startling. He wants to go beyond the Wall immediately and kill whoever did it, but he knows that's foolish. He has to grit his teeth and wait, because they'll surely send more.

He focuses on taking care of you. While they do have Maester Aemond, the old man's eyes make it tricky to do any kind of surgery. When you're awake and recovering, Benjen does his best to give you his soft smiles and usual jokes, though they're more muted than before. He hopes you don't notice how tired and anxious he's feeling. He tries to avoid assignments that'll send him away from Castle Black, and he sneaks into your sick room to sleep beside you whenever he can get away with it.

Brynden - The very cowardice of the act boils his blood. Whoever wanted to do this to you should have gone through him - he hates that he wasn't there when you needed him. Hasn't Brynden always said he'd protect you? If the attempt was done with poison, he's even more bitter. It's easy to get you the care you need, but he's still troubled, sitting at your bedside and wearing a troubled expression that doesn't go away until you wake up.

He tries to smile and comfort you, but his anger at the situation is obvious. When he's not out investigating what happened, he's at your side. He's keeping you company and playing "a poor nurse", so he says, but you know it's also to keep you protected. He comes in with full armor and his sword, after all. You sense he isn't sleeping well, either; he'd rather spend the late hours guarding you as you sleep.

Oberyn - It's not surprising that he reacts with anger. Oberyn would've been right there at your side, wanting to stop the bleeding himself, carrying you all the way to the maester while barking at guards to sweep the area. He'd go out on his own in a heartbeat, but assuring you're stable comes first. The minute you were, though - he's gone, spear in hand and wanting to find out what happened. Between himself and Doran, the assassin - or at least whoever hired them - can't stay anonymous for long.

While you're recovering, he does all he can for you. Do you want a dozen pillows, plenty of flowers, books, music? Company or none? Any food or drink - even if the maester cautions against specific ones - will be your's. Oberyn spares no expense, the guilt and anger he feels at "letting" this happen assuaged just slightly every time he grants a request. He prefers you be moved to your shared bedchambers rather than a sick room, both so he can protect you and so you don't feel so isolated.

Doran - His schooled, calm expression finally cracks when he hears the news. He wants to get up at once, to rush to the messenger and shake them, but he has to compose himself. Doran knows these things happen, and he already has clear suspicions of whose responsible, but that doesn't help his racing mind. He waits until the maester has done his job and you're stable before visiting you - for one, he has to calm himself, and two, he has to act fast if he hopes to retaliate.

Doran makes sure you have the utmost comfort while you recover, much like his brother, though he's not nearly as over-indulgent. He often spends time with you in your sickroom, reading you stories or just talking while holding your hand and petting your hair. He has a wonderful bedside manner helped by his steady presence and voice; it's near impossible to pick up the anger and injustice he's feeling. He doesn't want to subject his paramour to that. You should just focus on resting.

Brienne - She feels a terrible chill come over her, and then the adrenaline. She jumps to action. If the assassin is foolish enough to attempt it while Brienne is within shouting distance - they're dead, period, she will not let them escape after they did such a thing. But if it was poison, or a near-fatal wound - she may have to just to get you help. She gathers you up in her arms and easily carries you to help, shouting for a maester or healer, regardless of it was the middle of the night or day. She'll drag one out of a castle if need be.

Brienne wants to sit in while you're being treated, but she knows she shouldn't. She's stewing in anxiety and worry, wondering if she could've done something differently. Once you're awake and stable, it's like a weight has been lifted off. She still has plans for the assassin if they weren't caught - but first, she needs to focus on you. The adrenaline finally runs out once she hears your voice and has your hand to hold. She's so relieved she could just crash next to you, but no, you need her to be steady and strong.

[lovebaela]

THE DRAGON OF THE NORTH

Chapter 2: Winter is Coming

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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

[sasagehoes]

THE NECROMANCER

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈 ;𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱;; The fruits of necromancy start taking roots inside of you, and your older sister's warnings didn't prepare you for the horrors that were to come.

masterlist | series masterlist

previous chapter ~ next chapter

CW; This series contains a LOT of sensitive topics. Just like the show, there will be individual warnings for each chapter, I'm not responsible for what you read.

graphic depictions of blood and gore/ canon typical violence / assault/ murder/lots of change in POV/ war/ assault and rape/ mentions of purity culture and virginity / arranged marriage/ typical game of thrones warnings.

3.6k words

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

As soon as the boat arrived with her on board, everyone went crazy. It wasn't that big of a deal, I was planning on rejecting the proposal,

why would I marry a complete stranger?

I knew they would make me go receive her and her family, so I hid until they left, I knew my mother would reprimand me, but as much as I could avoid her, the better.

I came down from my hiding spot to see my older sister, Sansa, standing there with her arms over her chest. I was clearly mad, I tried to run, but she caught up to me

"Don't you know just how in trouble you are right now," she said, pulling my ear slightly to not injure me, but enough that it would hurt

"Let me go!" I said."Stop whining! mom's gonna give you an earful"

As we entered the mess hall, i could see my mother standing with a displeased face, looking directly at me

"Why do you not want to see her, Bran?"

My mother said, annoyed. I just ignored her and looked to the side

"Answer me, Brandon," she repeated herself, this time mad.

"Why would I marry someone I've never met!" I snapped, now standing up

"You think she chose to get married, chose to be sent away from her family to come into this one?" She replied hastily looking into my eyes.

I stopped, and I never thought about her situation, I knew my sisters would have the same fate. Yet I still couldn't stomach the thought of being with a complete stranger for the rest of my life.

"...no, I'm sorry," I said, embarrassed, looking at my mother

"When she gets here, treat her nicely, you don't have to like her immediately.. you'll have time to learn how to love and cherish her."

With that, she left, leaving me there pondering on how my life would be with a stranger.

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

The harsh cold wind was unfamiliar to me. My fingers felt like falling off. I couldn't imagine how it would feel once winter came.

The Lord of Winterfell, Eddard Stark, got off his horse and came up to us. He looked around, clearly expecting more people

"I thought Lord Caius would come to send you off, I guess I was mistaken," he said sincerely

at the mention of my father's name, my eyes went wide, coming out of my trance. My sister noticed and grabbed my hand firmly.

"My apologies, Lord Stark, some..commotion has started in our land, both our parents had to stay to re ensure the safety of our people."

He nodded, "No worries, I understand. You'll be taken care of here, until your leave." he said.

Robb, the oldest, helped to mount my stuff on the horses. I smiled at him, muttering a small 'thank you'

The man I've learned to address as Theon tried to start small talk once in the horses,

"Bravoos is a beautiful place from what my friends say," he started

"I suppose it does have its own flare,"

I say out of it, just mentions of Bravoos made my stomach churn.

not wanting to seem rude, i forced the conversation to continue

"Winterfell is even more beautiful than what I had imagined. You must feel proud of being born here, my Lord," I say, looking at him, his eyes drop for a second too long.

"I'd have to agree with you, my Lady, it is indeed a beautiful place, yet I'm not form here, I'm form the Iron Islands, a Greyjoy"

"Oh, well, it must've been hard getting used to the weather," I say, mustering up a dry chuckle. He nodded and was about to continue till Robb told him something, and he stayed by his side until we arrived.

It seemed my betrothed was nowhere to be seen.

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

Once you arrived at Castle Ward, you couldn't believe your eyes..it was beautiful, a sense of comfort and warmth that radiated from it.

All of the remaining family that didn't go out to receive you and your sister were all lined up, two girls, two boys, and a woman.

As all of you approached them, you heard whispers in the crowd

'She's to marry the little lord?'

'Isn't she a doll'

'so beautiful'

'Bravoosi ey?'

you payed them no mind as you plastered a small smile on your lips and bowed to the family, waiting to be risen you looked up briefly, and the boy, who seemed your age was already looking at you, as soon as the two of your eyes met, they disconnected.

So that was to be your husband, your salvation.

"Rise child," Lady Catelyn said sweetly, and so you did. Looking at her in the eye, you smiled. "Pleasure to finally meet you, my Lady." you say.

"Likewise, you are more beautiful than what the books described... So glad you could make it safely,"

"This is Sansa and Arya, my only daughters, and I've seen you've met Robb, my first born already, we'll this is Rickon, the youngest and Bran, you're betrothed" she continued, pointing at each one of the children as she named them.

"Pleasure to meet you all, I hope we can get along." Your eyes met Bran's as you finished. He avoided them as soon as he saw you.

"I can't wait for us to be sisters," Sansa exclaimed in her place as she went up to you to pull your hand. "Would you like to see your room?" she asked hands, holding yours. You nodded, and she took off running with you in tow.

"Careful not to fall!" Catelyn yelled at the both of you.

Ophelia looked at Brandon and walked up to him.

"I trust you'll take care of her, My Lord?"

she said to him, a trail of worries behind her words.

"I promise, she won't be sad as long as she's with me" Brandon replied, with a smile looking up at her, she nodded and bowed slightly l, mouthing a small 'thank you'

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

The food was wonderful, the smell of wine was everywhere in the dining room, and people danced and sang, up until Lord Stark stood up and held his cup of wine and hit it with his spoon

"Today, we celebrate the soon to be union between House Stark and House Corvus!" he said loudly, everyone followed suit, cheering and clapping rather obnoxiously.

Your face was dull and expressionless, staring off into the abyss that were the walls. You couldn't escape it.

You heard her everywhere, like a taunting reminder that you got a better chance that she could've ever gotten, you hated yourself, even if it wasn't your fault.

a hand on your shoulder helped you out of the trance, Arya. If you remember,

"Want to spar outside? If you don't know.. I can teach you!"

You smiled genuinely for what felt like the first time in weeks and nodded, running off with Arya outside.

..

"Grab one!" she said to me, throwing me a wooden sword that was left on the floor. I caught it after it almost escaped my hold, Arya giggled, "Just you wait," I told her jokingly, making her get into a stance, a bad one, and so did I.

We sparred for almost an hour when their Septa walked out of the mess hall and froze in her steps

"Arya Stark!" she yelled in disbelief

"Oh no.." Arya sighed

"What do you think you're doing, young lady?" the septa said as she dragged Arya by the arm

"Im not a lady," Arya bickered

"Your father is a lord, making you. a lady, now get inside!" the old woman said, annoyed, clearly having dealt with this more times that she could count. Once Arya made it inside, and after she flashed you a smile, the septa came up to me

"My Lady, please don't humor her, I hope i won't have to deal with the both of you from now on," she voiced out as nicely as she could

"I promise i won't become a problem." My eyes squinted as I smiled at her.

Pleased with my answer, she bowed slighly and left.

'maybe this wouldn't be so bad' I thought as I gazed at my surroundings, the tall grey walls of the castle were mesmerizing, although the castle back home was more lively and more colourful, on the inside it was dull and bleak, now even more so, with everything currently going on.

"Lost on your thoughts again, little lady?" a man whom i've never met said to me almost invading my personal space."Please don't call me that sir, " I say, trying to sound as polite as possible.

He got closer. "Your father sent me," he said, and my eyes went wide, I opened my mouth to scream, but he covered it "Scream and you'll end up like Leiana, understood?" He asked, I nodded as tears escaped my eyes,

"Your brother ever told you what I did to the little whore?" He continued now moving to the stables, I couldn't breathe, "Answer me!" he screamed.

"NO, no he didn't please let me go, I won't say anything!" My words were rushed, I didn't want to end up like that, broken and destroyed.

He threw me down on the hay that adorned the floor of the empty stable, my cries were drowned by the music that played in the mess hall and the cheers.

"Oh, I'll let you go, just after im done with you," he said, standing up, undoing his belt.

As I tried to scream once more, trying to get anyone to listen to my cries, a sword pushed through the back of the man, blood falling on my skin.. I froze.

"Are you alright?! Did he touch you?!" The man with dark shoulder-length hair said, picking me up, the sword now thrown on the floor.

I hugged him tightly "Thankyou, thank you!" I sobbed trembling.

"What happened?!" I heard Ophelia yell from the doors of the mess hall, once she saw my sobbing figure and the man dead on the floor, she ran to me.

"Please tell me he didn't touch you," She said now on her knees in front of me, holding my face. Her voice was shaking, I shaked my head.

"He asked if Amadeus had told me what he did to Leiana." I tell her as much as my hiccups would let me. Her eyes went dark for a moment.

"Those bastards!" She yelled

The music had stopped, and people were coming outside, Lord Stark came out worried, and once he saw the scene, he hurried to ask what had taken place.

Once everyone calmed down and explained what had happened, I saw Brandon looking at me with worried eyes from afar. He came up to me and offered his coat and left, not knowing what to say. After that, everything was a blurry mess.

When I woke up, a sleeping Ophelia was at my side sitting on a chair. Feeling a shift in the bed, she woke up. "Are you alright, my dear?" She asked me worried, I nodded

"I'm leaving today sister..I can't delay my trip to house Reed" she spoke, my eyes went wide

"What if another one comes after me or worse you!" I exclaim

"I'll be protected by some guards, and so will you, Lord Stark was very understanding"

I sat up abruptly "You told him?!"

"No! Not the whole truth.. I have to be careful"

I relaxed, it wasn't safe for anyone to know as of now, anyone could betray us. Anyone.

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

You hugged your sister tightly as she bid farewell to everyone, not knowing if this would be the last time you two would see each other

"We'll meet again" she said caressing your hair

"Once snow comes"

"Blood shall fall"

This would be the last time you heard of Ophelia..alive.

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

The days went on rather banal, nothing new, taking sewing and embroidery lessons with Sansa and sneaking off to play with Arya in the courtyard once you got bored.

Everytime you went to talk to Brandon he was dry and cold, sometimes just flat out ignoring you.

you couldn't care less, most royal marriages were only for one thing - unions.

or that's what you told yourself.

One particular day, you noticed you were feeling rather drained, not having done many physical activities you felt worried,

Apparently someone noticed and left you a snack with a note that said 'rest, you look tired', with an apple next to it.

You asked around thinking it was either of the sisters but none knew what you were talking about so you just left it at that.

At around noon, you where playing with Arya on top of some tables, pretending to be knights, when a puncturing pain burst in your lower abdomen making you almost fall off. Arya, worried, dropped her stick and went to you thinking she had hurt you

"Are you okay??" she said panicking "Yes I'm alright just an old bruise I suppose"

you knew it wasn't a bruise, you knew what this pain entailed. You were petrified. this was only the begging.

your sister, Leiana, had explained what happened go the woman in the family once their first blood takes fruition, it's not only blood and pain, it the nightmares of death that plague you, and the smell of blood everywhere. it was too early you thought..way too early.

One morning you woke with the pain gone but a slick feeling in your thighs, you uncovered yourself and saw the crimson red stain that now adorned the bed sheets.

Although you wanted to think you were saved, Leiana also had gotten it, yet that didn't stop them. Nothing stops them

"You know what this entails right my dear" Lady Stark asked you, as you told her what was happening. you nodded slightly, she smiled.

"Don't worry, I know other houses make the girls marry as soon as there first blood occurs, but not here, neither of you are ready so don't fret, your still a child, I couldn't do that to you" she said empathicly. you just nodded and thanked her, and as she left you could only smell blood, it irked you, you felt disgusting.

Sansa was next to you at dinner talking about how wonderfull this was, you could have children now, give birth to little lords and ladies, which made Brandon's cheeks dust a light pink. You giggled, but there was a part of you that felt a nauseating feeling at the pit of your stomach.

If you had a girl would she deal with the same thing your sister did? Would she be chased down the streets and tainted by the men who swore to protect her?

No. you'd make sure she'll never go through that horrible, thing you'll make sure. Even if it's the last thing you do.

The following day you could barely walk, the pain was getting worse and Maester Luwin said ot was normal. saying it was because you had gotten it sooner than it should.

If only.

As you were walking with Sansa trying to withstand the cramping pain, talking about how you two would want both your futures to play out, the pain got worse, in an instant it felt like soemone took a blow to your lower stomach, making you bend over and groaning in pain. Sansa noticed and went to your aid, but before you could say anything everything went black.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

You opened your eyes and the bright light blinded you briefly, your head throbbed as the distant noise got closer.

You weren't quite sure where you were, but it wasn't Winterfell. It was red, everything, the snow was crimson red, the dew falling off the trees was red everything was red. You looked at yourself in the nearby bloodied river.

it wasn't you.

you felt around the face that was reflected on the river, it wasn't yours yet you could feel it, it was c aked in blood as well as the hair that came with it.

before panicking you remembered your sister's words;

"apart from the normal symptoms, you'll be ridden with nightmares for days might even be weeks"

You felt and indescribable hunger and as you saw the crimson snow it became appealing - appetizing even.

you took a handful of it and ate it, and then another, and another until your hunger was satiated.

everything went black for a while and when you awoke, you still weren't in Winterfell, but in the palace of Corvus. Castle Ravenna.

It wasn't you, you had to remind yourself before any panic would settle in your bones.

It all looked so different, The sigil on the banners was the old one, the walls were relatively new, even the throne looked more polished

this was clearly long before you had been born, who's body you were inhibiting, you didnt know, but it felt... different than in the snow earlier, the blood on your veins wamer, and faster.

"Amelia! are you listening?" the voice of a man said

Amelia? if the stories the women in blood told your sister were true, she was the first necromancer of house corvus.

"Yes dear?" you answered, the voice not your own.

"What have you been doing in the outskirts of the city, I've told you a hunded times. do not." he kept going

"The snow, i helped get rid of the red snow"

You didn't know how you knew what to say. You just did. It was automatic.

"We can't keep escaping from our marital duties.. we need to produce an heir"

Your stomach churned at the thought.

The blackout ensued again, yet this time you were in the garden, your hand was bleeding profusely, and a white rabbit squirmed on the floor, its head was detached.

You wouldn't move, couldn't, it felt as in a second your body was still and then you were looking through the rabbits eyes.

You've heard of wargs, yet they manipulated live animals.. not the dead.. as you snapped out of it, you gasped and quickly jid the beheaded rabbit in a bush, washing the wounded hand on the fountain.

The night you finally consummated your marriage with your husband, he was gentle, truly, he was, but we both longed for someone else. We didn't belong to the other, yet our destinies were written long before our conception.

Another black out. Gods, did you hate them by now.

You held your first born in your arms, a beautiful baby girl, eyes like the forest and caramel skin. She cooed at you and you smiled.

Her father seemed mad, only came in the room to corroborate the gender of the child and left.

Your nightmares showed the many children you or better said, Amelia, had through out the years. Five boy and five girls, only two made with love, the other out of necessity.

The last one was the most brutal of them all

Your body was now old and wrinkly as you could only stare in shock as the torture that was inflicted on your daughters was laughed at, and sang about, the remaining two sat on the table ridden in fear that they would wake up with a man in their chambers, putting the through hell, and you couldn't do anything.

Their daughters' daughters would go through this hell, and their daughters after that. Amelia couldn't bear it. You could feel it in her veins. She mustered any bit of energy left in her old bones and killed the man whom she had married all those years ago

The man who let men do whatever they pleased with your daughters for the sake of the kingdom. It was her last straw.

"You stand here accused of practicing the dark arts, and the worst crime..regicide, how do you plead?" The man asked loud for the whole city to hear

I stayed silent.

"Any last words then?" He asked

I looked up and said:

"My daughters will not be able to use their gifts, but be worry of the ones to come, one will be born so fierce, she'll fear no man, as no man will come to harm her, the loss of her sisters will only strengthen her, and the downfall of the tyrants of Bravoos will come"

The daughters cried as they were held by the perpetrators as your neck was sliced from ear to ear. Everything went black for the last time.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

When you finally woke up, it was in a cold sweat, pawing at your neck with one hand. You looked hastily at your surroundings and saw a sleeping Bran at your bedside, a hand holding yours. Your heartbeat slowed a little, and you smiled

"Brandon, wake up," you say softly, shaking him

He woke up slowly, eyes groggy, but when he laid his eyes on your figure, his eye widened, and he jumped to hug you. "I thought you wouldn't wake up," he said distraught

You hugged him back and said, "Didn't know you missed me," grinning.

He glared at you playfully "Maybe..maybe not, are you okay? you were gone for days, mumbling things in your sleep.. you had me worried, " he said the blush in his cheeks eminent.

You couldn't stop the giggles that exited your mouth. After being cold and distant for so long, who could've thought he would be so concerned for your well being.

"Don't laugh." he added as he tried to storm out the room, but your hand pulling his stopped him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude," you say in between laughs. He furrowed his brows and quickly kissed your cheek, making you shut up. your brain malfunctioned, and you just stared at him, eyes wide and cheeks red.

Before you could say anything, he bolted out the door, yelling, "She woke up!"

And you just stared at the door in disbelief.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ Thank you so much for getting this far, can't wait to continue this series!! If you'd like to be added to the taglist,let me know ♥︎

(っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡

taglist: @etyaty @tcapter

DO NOT;; RE-UPLOAD, TRANSLATE NOR COPY MY WORKS!!

This belongs to;;

-SASAGEHOES

[madame-fear]

Hallo! Could I request a bran x reader? Idk I’ve had loads of thoughts of like taking care/comforting bran over the past few days haha

— a/n : YES OF COURSE, absolutely love this oneee <33 i made general hcs for this one because my creative ass is lacking 🥲🔫 hope you enjoy your reading anyways !! ♡

• Having known Bran for all your entire life, it's as if you already knew when he needed some warming comforting without him having to tell you.

• Before he fell from the tower, he was a pretty rebellious and independent young boy who loved climbing anywhere. He had even taught you how to climb! And in those moments, he didn't need anyone comforting him, honestly.

• But, after he fell and realised that he was never going to be able to normally walk or climb anymore, he felt pretty much useless. And there you were, by his side before and after he had some days of being unconscious on his bed.

• The first thing you did when he woke up was tightly embrace him in a hug, and greet him with a broad smile... plus some light tearing, because you were afraid of never being able to have your friend back.

“I'm so happy you're awake, Bran! I was afraid of never being able to be with you again.” you quietly mumbled, as you tightly embraced him. A wave of relief washed over you, knowing that at least, he still had some more time to spend by your side.

• Your warm, loving hug was the very first thing he experienced when he woke up, and quite honestly... he felt reassured and comforted, in a way. Our boy quickly returned the tight embraced, and buried his head on your shoulder.

• Then, you talked to him about everything that happened while he wasn't conscious, and you also provided the basic care he needed the following days, and a bit more than basic needs as well; such as: covering him with the fur of his blankets when he had to sleep, asking maidens to bring him food, even offering yourself to brush his hair if he wanted too, cuddling with him, watching over him while he slept (even if you were his age, but you thought you could protect him somehow), and a looong long list of other things you did for him.

• After that moment, he realised how much you genuinely cared for him. And he also realised, you were the only one who provided him a true sense of comfort amongst the war, plus... a light crush grew fondly on him for you... but he wouldn't admit it.

• As both of you grew up together, you sticked by his side all the time. You were a truly loyal companion, and one who attentively listened to him, and took care of him. Basically, you went through a whole bunch of shit situations, but at least you were together.

• Even after he became the Three-Eyed-Raven and the King of the Seven Kingdoms you were there to still provide him comfort and care for him like you did when you were small children. Everytime you showed him your genuine affection, his heart fluttered a bit more for you and he deeply enjoyed it... though, as always, he'd keep that to himself.

• The affection you had for him was also shown in different ways, such as: helping him calm down and relax when he was too overwhelmed by his duties and responsabilities as King, sitting on his lap, taking him to take a scroll on the gardens, leaving little love notes on top of his bed or nightstand, etc.

• And HE APPRECIATES THAT A TON <33 And of course, he'll return the favour by gifting you things like small flowers or also leaving notes on your bedroom, or just braiding your hair if you want to.

• The best thing he likes you to do to comfort him when he's too tired/overwhelmed by everything in general, is having you sit on his lap, and play with strands of his silky hair while he rants about his day, and you attentively listen.

• ^ tbh feeling your warm presence and having your fingers delicately run across his hair never fails to soothe Bran and calm him.

• Though he isn't the type of person that expresses what he thinks or feels, he genuinely enjoys your affection in a whole deeper extent, and is very fond of having you as his right hand, plus life companion.

• And also, like I said previously, he'll make sure to let you know he enjoys the comfort you give him by gift giving, taking hold of your hand, and pulling you on his lap only to wrap his arms around your body. Plus, if you ever need to be calmed down/comforted, he'll return you all the caring you give him in a heartbeat.

[rise-my-angel]

More headcannons about the Starks being doms!!! Pleaseeeee!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay starting off saying, all Stark men are doms, just in different ways. But let's start from the eldest down.

Brandon Stark:

Easily a hard dom. He was short tempered and described as very distinctly as having "wolfs blood". He loved fighting and always kept his sword sharp and with him. I have a distinct theory that he was a power bottom, preferring women on top of him but without actually giving them that control. Probably didn't talk a lot, and when he did was just purposely filthy. He also definitly liked to take things rough, considering Barbrey Dustin says this about him.

"I still remember the look of my maiden’s blood on his cock the night he claimed me. I think Brandon liked the sight as well. A bloody sword is a beautiful thing."

That is some hard dom behavior right there.

Eddard Stark:

If there was a Stark who was closest to a switch then the others, it would be Ned. But I think that is more because Ned is just rather vanilla in comparison. There is zero reason to believe Catelyn likes being in charge in the bedroom, but I also think Ned is far more of a soft dom. Not very talkative, probably more intimate, and he doesn't push Catelyns limits. But he does in fact, go hard.

The man gave her five children, and Catelyn literally implies in the first book that Ned fucked her so hard she was in that afterglow pain only a man who goes rough can give.

"Her loins still ached from the urgency of his lovemaking. It was a good ache."

Submissive men do not fuck so urgently they leave their wife laying in bed sore as fuck from getting pounded. Ned is probably the least kinky of the present Starks, but certainly still a soft dom.

Benjen Stark:

We see he has a very dominant personality, how easily he takes control of a conversation and establishes himself as someone to be listened too, but considering he clearly joined the Nights Watch at an early age, it's safe to say Benjen grew up a man whom was just not involved in sexual encounters.

If he did fuck, he'd likely be more of a soft dom with a side that likes to tease and be playful, but I assume he's either never or had very little sexual encounters to say for sure what he'd be like as one. But in his everyday personality, he certainly commands authority when necessary which is proof of dominance enough for me.

Robb Stark:

If there is the biggest example of a hard dom, it's Robb. This man takes you like a goddamn wolf. Flipping you onto your hands and knees, shoving you further into the furs of his bed, going fast enough you can't catch your breathe and rough enough that you feel him well into the next day. He will yank you up to his chest and purposely mutter depraved shit in your ear, mock you for your pleasure knowing it works you up more when he does it. Calling you derogatory sexual terms in bed to keep you in that subspace (he doesnt say them to hurt your feelings you know its all part of a kind of rougher roleplay essentially).

We've seen him take command in every situation. He knows how to seize control of a conversation even with opponents as difficult as Jaime Lannister. He doesn't falter, knowing he has everything in his favour and is sure of himself. Putting men twice his size like Greatjon Umber in his place but still managing to secure his upmost dedicated loyalty at the same time.

Robb probably the most forgets to be romantic in bed, but he makes up for it any other time. It's just in bed, when Robb is fucking you, he is rough and mean. You both know its with love and you both like it, but he is a true hard dom.

Jon Snow:

If his brother is the definition of a hard dom, Jon is the definition of a soft dom. Jon is incapable of being mean to you, truly being mean. He'll never whisper filth for the sake of it, never try to mock or embarrass you, will never use anything close to something derogatory towards you in what he calls you. Jon is passionate, raw, and very intimate about sex with you, and he needs a lot of both skin to skin contact and he needs to be able to kiss you as much as he wants.

But, he is also very controlling. More then he realizes. Jon is unpredictable in bed, because what he wants varies wildly. Sometimes he takes you slowly, but goes for hours to the point he is still inside you as you pass out, which he keeps going. Sometimes, he is rougher then he even realizes. Jon leaves bruises all the time from how tightly his hands grab at you alone, and he goes rough to the point sometimes you almost are pushed too far, but Jon somehow always ends up making you crave it.

You basically will never choose how the night goes. Jon always controls you in bed, and you let him. It works him up to an endless degree that you so completely trust him with you to the point he basically owns your autonomy in bed. He can convince you to do anything knowing you'd let him, and he won't give you what you want because he knows your needs and limits better then you do.

Jon is soft and loving with you in bed, but he is a dom through and through. Jon alone is the one in total control in the bedroom and he will always keep it that way.

[phantomqa]

Rip Brandon Stark you would have loved bouldering halls 😔🙏🏻🧗🏻‍♀️

[novaursa]

Hellooo I would like to request a fic 💕

Targaryen!reader x Stark character (idk which one out of Benjen, Ned or Brandon)

Based before the northern rebellion. Reader is essentially the Realms Delight and is the apple of her father’s eye lol she gets away with everything mostly.

The setting would be a royal hunt, maybe dedicated to someone’s nameday (reader or aerys either work).

Reader meets the Stark family (like for the first time officially) and both are entranced by one another.

Dangerous Gaze

Requests are closed!

- Summary: You meet Brandon Stark for the first time, and the dragon falls for the wolf.

- Paring: targ!reader/Brandon Stark

- Note: These events happen before Robert's Rebellion.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Next part: the hunt

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

You have always found royal hunts dull—an endless parade of sycophants eager to flatter your father, the king, while the smell of damp earth and animal musk clings to your clothes. But today, you sense something different in the air, something electric. Perhaps it’s the arrival of the Stark family from the North, specifically their eldest son, Brandon.

Father had decided to organize this hunt to celebrate his nameday, and while the horns of his courtiers sounded joyously through the forest, you could tell his mood was as changeable as the wind. You, however, are looking forward to it for one reason—Brandon Stark.

You’ve heard of him, of course, the wild wolf of Winterfell, a man said to be as fierce as the North itself. But hearing rumors is one thing; seeing him in person is another. And when Lord Rickard Stark introduces his son to your family for the first time, you feel the world tilt just a little.

Brandon stands tall, with wind-tossed brown hair and the sharp eyes of a predator. When he bows, it’s as if the very trees of the Kingswood are bending with him. His gaze, however, is fixed entirely on you.

Your father’s booming voice cuts through the air. "Lord Rickard, and his…pups," Aerys greets, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looks them over. "The North sends its best, I see." His gaze lingers a bit too long on Brandon, and you notice a twitch in his eye.

But you’re too distracted by Brandon's piercing stare to care. His grey eyes lock with yours, and it feels as if he’s stripping away all the pomp and circumstance that surrounds you, leaving just you—the woman, not the princess.

“Your Grace,” Brandon says in a low voice that seems to echo in your ears. His eyes flicker briefly to your father, but they keep returning to you as though he can’t help himself. "It’s an honor to meet you all."

Aerys’ face tightens, the playful humor vanishing from his expression like a wisp of smoke. His fingers twitch slightly, the faintest sign of irritation. "An honor, yes…" His voice drips with something you recognize all too well—danger, veiled in civility.

You smile sweetly, stepping forward to greet the Starks. “And what brings the wolf so far south? Surely not just to hunt game.”

Brandon’s smile widens, his confidence palpable. “I could ask you the same, princess. Though I suspect the real hunt has only just begun.” His tone is playful, teasing, and you feel warmth rise in your cheeks.

Aerys doesn’t miss the exchange, nor the way Brandon’s gaze seems to devour you whole. His voice grows sharp, though still masked with a veneer of civility. “Careful, Lord Stark. The woods here can be treacherous, full of snares and traps. Not everything is as it seems.”

Brandon doesn’t flinch, though you notice the way his jaw tightens. “I’ve faced worse than the Kingswood, Your Grace.”

Aerys’ laughter is cold, echoing through the clearing like a death knell. “Oh, I do not doubt it. But sometimes, even a wolf finds itself caught in a trap it cannot escape. Perhaps by a rope…perhaps by something else.” His gaze flicks over Brandon with unmistakable malice.

You feel your stomach churn at the implication. Your father’s madness has been growing for years, but this—this is something darker. He’s hinting at a future only he seems to see, one where Brandon is caught in his own webs of power and madness.

But Brandon merely inclines his head, undeterred. “I’ll keep that in mind, Your Grace.”

Aerys seems unsatisfied by Brandon’s calm demeanor and turns his attention back to you, his expression softening. “And you, my jewel,” he says, his voice dripping with possessiveness. “Be careful where you cast your gaze. Some wolves have sharp teeth.”

You suppress an eye-roll, though the temptation is strong. “Father, I’m hardly defenseless.”

“I’m sure,” Aerys replies, though his tone suggests he’s far from convinced.

As the hunt progresses, Brandon stays close, much to your delight and your father’s displeasure. You exchange glances, something unspoken between you simmering beneath the surface. And though Aerys’ dark warnings hang in the air, you can’t help but feel drawn to the Northern wolf.

Whatever your father’s madness sees in Brandon’s fate, you’re not afraid. After all, you’ve always enjoyed a bit of danger.

[aelenavelaryon]

Robert Baratheon x Reader (pt.2)

Summary: in which the Queen gets her revenge on her husband

The return of dragons came to a surprise for the realm. It was unexpected yet a blessing, especially for Rhaenyra. Finally, dragons returned to the world. Robert was not on board with having them in King's Landing at first but after watching Rhaenyra be happy after the loss of their child he agreed. Robert, despite marrying her without love came to enjoy her company as the two enjoyed making children.

Rhaenyra choose to let her dragons roamed free in a place where they were all away from people, to avoid harming innocent people. Prince Daemon was born in the year 283, near the end of the year. His brother Orys came days after his first name day in 284. In the year 286 came the twins, Aemon and Aemond. Just a year later in 287 she lost a child, it was then that Dragons were reborn.

By 290, Rhaenyra's dragons had grown a lot. The year prior they disappeared and when they returned they were the size of an adult dragon. So, for the first time in centuries a Targaryen finally took to the skies on dragonback. Balerion, the dragon she rode flew her to a part of the Keep that was abandoned and where he kept dragons eggs.

Rhaenyra brought Dragon Keepers to the Keep to help with the dragons and their eggs. The eggs, which were enough to give to each one of her children and brother, were kept warm and ready in the children's room. Finally, after five years of trying for a daughter, a girl finally came. Well, more like two. Rhaena and Helaena came during the summers of 290. By then, her children all had dragons eggs. Prince Daemon had claimed Caraxes, while his brother's hatched their eggs. Orys named his Eros. Aemon named his Moonfyre and Aemond named his Meraxes. Princess Rhaena and Helaena's dragon eggs hatched the same day of their birth.

King Robert threw a feast in honor of their first name day. By then, queen Rhaenyra had given him four sons and two daughters. Princess Rhaena was said to be as wild and defiant as her mother in her youth. Rhaena had the Targaryen hair and eyes, while her twin, princess Helaena had black hair and blue eyes like his father but she was as quiet and calm as her late grandmothers, queen Rhaella and Lady Cassana Baratheon. Robert was a decent king who took the input of his queen. They had a quiet a decent marriage.

Since the day they married Robert kept to his wife's and his own chambers. He slept with no other woman that was not his wife. Some had said he changed for the better and Eddard Stark could attest to that. Rhaenyra's life was good. She had no worries. Everything was just perfect.

The news reached her a few weeks later. Robert Baratheon had slept with Cersei Lannister or so she claimed. Cersei was a girl of three and twenty. She was yet to be married as her father hadn't found her a good match yet. Rhaenyra when she heard said nothing. Robert even thought she hadn't heard but she had. She knew, thanks to her little birds that Jaime was Cersei's lover. So, her plan was to take Jaime from Cersei. It was her goal to make him loyal to her.

Her plan began the very next day. She had asked Robert for a new guard. Stating that with six children it was better for them and her to have extra security. The king agreed. She smiled and acted as if nothing was happening. When Cersei was forced to move the keep by her father's order, Rhaenyra was forced to confront her husband.

Robert entered their shared chambers. "Nyra" she looked away. Rhaenyra was two and twenty. She had given her husband six children. She never complained nor did she cause him any problems. She simply did her duty, ever the dutiful her mother used to say. "I have never asked anything of you, nor have I ever caused you trouble or any problems. I have stood by you for the last seven years. I married you despite everything. I am no saint, nor have I ever been. I brought a son into a marriage that was not yours. You loved him and took care of him as if he was your own. And in return I gave your four sons with your blood and two daughters with your blood" there was a brief silence. "Where our children not enough?" she asked. "Was I not enough?" she asked.

Rhaenyra had never been insecure. How could she? She was a Targaryen, their beauty seemed to be god like and now, with her dragon being a god seemed far more possible than before. "I love you, Robert. But I will not be the person you treat like a common whore. If Cersei gives you a bastard child I will give you one too. And if she gives you another so will I" she said. Robert was too stunned to speak. She gave him on chance to speak before she left their shared chambers, Arthur and Jaime following behind.

Rhaenyra knew Cersei's greatest love was Jaime, and she rarely even allowed him to wonder far from her. Jaime didn't mind, watching over her gave him some sort of relief as he felt guilty for killing her father years back. He also wanted to keep her safe as he could not keep Elia and her children. Jaime was also avoiding his sister, as much as she would try to find him but he would walk the other way or ignore her pleas to talk. Over the months the good relationship between the queen and king perished in the blink of an eye. King Robert returned to his drunken and whoring ways.

Cersei Lannister gave birth to a son who she named Joffrey Baratheon, a boy with black hair and green eyes, he seemed to be all his father but the eyes. A year later, in the year 292, queen Rhaenyra gave birth to a son, a boy she named Rhaegar Targaryen and a daughter who she named Rhaella. The boy had blonde white hair. His eyes were the same eyes of princess Alyssa Targaryen, wife of Baelon Targaryen. One green eye and purple. Her daughter, princess Rhaella had a her grandmother's looks. Ser Jaime Lannister was the first one to hold his two children. A little princeling he used to call him and his little baby girl. Jaime and Rhaenyra were the ones who picked the names.

Robert knew but he said nothing as the guilt of returning to his old habits returned. Prince Jacaerys came four years after his sisters, then, a year after him came Lucerys. Princess Rhaenyra had always loved those names and had always wanted to name one of her sons like them. Prince Jacaerys had dark brown hair and purple eyes, his brother Lucerys was just like his brother. Queen Rhaenyra bore thirteen children at the short age of thirty. Her last two children were girls. Daughters. Visenya and Daenerys, daughters of Ser Arthur Dayne.

Eddard Stark never married, instead he served his queen Rhaenyra his entire life. And of course he took care of their two sons. Ned had became her closest companion alongside Arthur and Jaime Lannister. She had no other allies at court but them. At least, she didn't trust anyone else but them. Cersei gave Robert three more children. Tommen, Myrcella and Joanna but they were known as bastards since they were not married.

On the queen's name day, a thirtieth name day celebration was made in her honor. Every house in the realm attended, including Dorne, Driftmark and the North. By then, Prince Jaehaerys was nearly six and ten, Daemon was five and ten, Orys three and ten, Aemon and Aemond were one and ten, Helaena and Rhaena were eight, Rhaegar and Rhaella were nearly six, Jacaerys was four, prince Lucerys three and his sisters had just turned one.

Queen Rhaenyra, despite birthing thirteen children looked far better than most, she was grateful, she also took care great of her figure, she wanted to preserve herself as much as she could. Robert knew that seven of those children where not his. Jaehaerys had been claimed as a Targaryen despite Tywin's insistence to keep him as a bastard. Rhaenyra did not wish for her son to bear the name Baratheon or Stark. Brandon had written to her often wanting to know about his son but he not once had asked for the boy to visit him nor to be claimed as a Stark. She knew Catelyn did not like the idea of Brandon's bastard sons being in their home and possible taking Robb's birthright.

During the Queen's name day celebration things are said and revenge is plotted. They say when you play the game of thrones you win or you die, there is no middle ground. Queen Rhaenyra is going to win, no matter what. The question is, will she succeed or will she fail?

[thethreeeyed-raven]

Can you make a bran Drabble when the jist is that he has a secret bf/gf :) tysm!!

bran with a secret s/o

navigation | warnings : SMUT (if ur uncomfortable with that just skip), caught in the act | a/n : listen, if he wanted to, he could, THE WAY I SAT GIGGLING TO MYSELF WRITING A CERTAIN ONE | tags : @knight-of-flowerss @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom | bran stark playlist

SFW

bran loves secretly holding your hand, especially when you go out somewhere with him and his family, ugh hand holding is a must

secret kisses🤭

buying you gifts then you having to pretend arya or sansa bought it for you and the awkward silence when they say they didn't

he has you over to watch movies and cuddle

he may beg his fam to go out and do something for the night just so he can do that ^^

he likes sneaking around with you

longing looks across the dinner table when you get invited to have dinner

OML KICKING EACH OTHER UNDER THE TABLE OR TEASING EACH OTHER

you both are sat giggling and everyone just has confused looks on their faces

you sneak into his room in the middle of the night when you have sleepovers just to cuddle with him and then you have to sneak back into whoever's room you were in first

late night talks

always checking up on you, making sure you've eaten etc

once sansa caught him doing this and started teasing him about it

his fam constantly talks about you around him just to see that little smile that appears on his face

NSFW

neck kisses

HICKEYS

imagine going home and you have a big massive hickey appearing on your neck all because bran cant help himself

THIS MAN LOVES HAIR PULLING

imagine ya'll are at it, he's devouring you down there and you're pulling his hair

the moans he has to stiffle😫

constantly telling him to be quiet

loves taking you up against the wall

always ensures your comfort before trying anything new

he loves marking you

if you consent to pics being taken he absolutely will

keeps them all in a secret folder and sometimes beats his meat to them💀 ^^

IM SORRY

bro is very very vocal

sometimes your movie sessions end up in steamy sex

literally does everything you tell him to no joke

bro is submissive af

he needs praise

like a lot of praise

HE NEEDS YOU TO TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM

he craves it

"tell me you're mine"

HE WHIMPERS

i just know he whimpers

and i just know its big

its hard for you guys to get at it because your relationship being a secret yk so when you do its definitely passionate and loving

bran does like it rough but not all the time

Grunts and whimpers could be heard throughout the room.

Bran's family had gone out for the day, but Bran pretended to be sick so he could have you over.

His shirt was thrown somewhere around the room and your bottoms where around your ankles.

As he rutted into you, you tugged on his scalp, earning quiet whimpers from him.

Your moans filled his ear drums, listening as you whispered sweet nothing's into his ear.

His family was supposed to be out for the day, but then just happened to get home early.

They all piled into the hallway.

"Stop." Catelyn said. "Can't you hear that?"

Sansa and Arya stiffled laughs as they all approached Bran's room. The noises got louder.

Catelyn opened the door.

"BRANDON!"

You both turned to look at each other in embarrassment.

"Fuck."

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Following you to the ends of the earth

BRANDON STARK X READER

Summary- Your time with Bran, Meera, and Hodor in the Three-Eyed Raven's cave. Unsaid feelings become said 🫶😩.

Part two right here!

A/N- This is my first writing piece ever! I am 100% open to constructive criticism! If there is any typos or mistakes pls lmk!!

Word count- 4,067

The cold of the cave had always left you unsteady. Even though you were finally out of the harsh snow and plundering winds, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unsafety in the dark rock that was now your shelter.

It had all happened so fast, following Bran, pledging to stay by his side through it all. It was a decision you little heart was determined to follow through on. All because of a small crush. You remember playing with Bran in your free time, a privilege of your mother being a handmaid to Catelyn Stark. But you weren't a child anymore, years had passed and your pledge turned into a duty, then an admiration for the boy.

His still body was leaning onto you, head falling back onto your shoulder. Though his legs to the right of your own. Brans weight was heavy against your chest but it was a feeling you wouldn't trade for anything.

Foggy eyes returned to you after what seemed like hours. With a gasp and a small shake in your arms, he came to. A Raven fluttering and exclaiming as the two men came out of the sight. Though it was only a few minutes, his time in the past always seemed longer to you.

His face expressed confusion, yet he still gave you a gentle smile. He turned to face the Old man, just after adjusting himself onto his side, out of your touch.

Him being in your arms during his visions started as an uncounsions act. You always wanted to be close to Brandon when he wasn’t fully with you. He worried you to no end and you wanted to be right there, holding him. Over the months of shyly inching closer to him while he was in a state of unconsciousness turned into you resting his head agaisnt your shoulder. Sometimes even leaning into your stomach, chest, or lap. Which was much to your enjoyment. Even if he didn't realize he leaned into your touch, it still warmed your heart.

He voiced his concern after a sharp breath,"You finally show me something I care about, and then you drag me away" His voice was emotional and yearnful. You chewed the inside of your cheek, waiting for the Three-Eyed Raven to respond.

"It is beautiful beneath the sea, but if you stay too long, you'll drown." The old man spoke in riddles. You never quite had the nag for understanding the man and his complex way of wording, although you knew that Bran would have explained them if you asked.

"I wasn't drowning, I was home!" The quiver in his voice left you saddened. He let out a puff of air as he reverted to his original position, off of his elbows and his back to your chest. Which was much more comfortable for him. You tried your best to comfort him as you squeezed his arm and swept some of his hair from his face, fondling a few of his locks. A pass-time you both enjoyed.

You never really had to ask, but the words flowed anywyas, "Where did you go this time?" A smile was on your face as you were curious for some details on his latest adventure.

His tone shifted into a lighter one, and you could feel some of the tension in his body release itself. "I saw Hodor." He said to you, then turned to the named man.

"Wylis?" He was only met with a "Hodor."

"I saw you as a boy." He then faced you, eyes staring deep. "His name was Wylis and he could talk, he was speaking normally." You questioned him for his own amusement, his smile growing. "Really? What happened, you saw him in your vision?" You were met with a small shrug of his shoulders, and you both looked to the person in question. Who only responded with his expected, "Hodor."

You changed the topic by starting with a sigh, "Meera's outside again, she's going to get sick... Nothing I say will bring her in." You contemplated even asking, but it was worth a shot. "You want to go see if you can change anything?'

He wouldn't even know where to start, but if you had asked him to pull down the moon and take out the stars out one by one, he would try his hardest.

A nod signaled his wilingness to you, and you called Hodor over. Hodor lifted Bran with ease, and you continued on. "Maybe tell her about Hodor- or Wylis- in your vision." He loved how you were always trying to make people feel better, even if it clashed with your true emotions and own thoughts. You always seemed to think of others before yourself.

The three of you made your way to the entrance of the cave, where Meera sat. All of a sudden you missed the dark alleys of the cave, It was much colder outside. You were already losing the feeling in your toes, as a result of not being properly clothed at the moment. A consequence of taking your wools off, which might have been to hold Bran better.

Hodor slowly lowered Bran to the fluffy snow beneath, this being routine for the two. You subconsciously sat down onto the snow as well. Maybe it was to be on the same level as everyone, or possbly to make yourself feel what Bran did. Whatever the reason, you helped him shuffle his legs straight, then you both turned to Meera.

After Jojen had died, it was as if you were talking to a hollowed out shell. A part of her was lost. Though, she found a wicked wave of comfort looking out into the mountains of ice. Her back was to the cave, including Hodor, Bran, and you.

"Meera, Its not safe out here. You shouldn't be outside the cave." Bran tried, unknowingly repeating what you had told the girl earlier.

"It's not safe anywhere." Meera responded, eyes locked on the snow infront of her.

Brandon looked at you before continuting and facing Meeras back, "I saw that Hodor wasn't always Hodor."

"His real name is Wylis. He could talk and he could fight, and-and then" His words stopped as the girl shifted to see the three of you.

"Meera, please tell us what we can do." You said, reaching a hand out to her. "I want to help you, truly, but you need to open up a little. We are here for you." You were met with silence and an unwavering look of stubbornness from her.

Bran broke the quiet, "The Three-Eyed Raven says there is a war coming."

With a scoff Meera spoke, "Yeah, and we are going to fight it in there?" You patted Bran on the forearm, he took it as his sign to leave you and her alone together. You always had a better time at connecting with Meera. She was like a sister to you, and you knew that she needed someone to be there for her.

Hodor clamored over at the request of the Stark, and lifted Bran to take him back inside the sheltered cave.

"He tries to understand, Meera, he really does." You defended.

"I know, but all I do is sit and watch his visions. I don't know how you do it, it all seems pointless. How do you not go mad, because I know I will if we keep at this." She revealed. As she spoke, you got up and sat down next to her, knees touching.

"I question that myself sometimes too." She gave a light smile, then back to melancholy. "We need you. Brandon, Hodor, and I can not do this without you. I heard that we will be leaving soon though... And frankly, I am terrified. Terrified that I might lose another one of the people I love most. You have to swear that you will talk to me Meera, please. We can work through this." All you wanted were for things to go back to the way they were before her brothers death. When the five of you would feel comfortable with each other. You wanted it so bad, even when you knew it was impossible.

You are met with a nod of her head, and seeing her face you recognized that she needed to be alone now. With a friendly nudge of her shoulder, you made your part and went back into the cave.

Another day brought Bran and the Three-Eyed Raven a new vision. From what you understood, they kept going into the past, seeing glimpses of what happened before Bran was born. Although you were confused on how this woud help the war, Bran insisted that with time it would be revealed. You were just happy that Brandon was getting training for his special sight.

Unlike his last vision, Bran wasn't in your arms. You were too busy helping Hodor untangle one of the strings in his coat. He tended to fiddle with them when he as anxious, and they got pretty messy.

You were interrupted by a much more violent and sharp gasp from Bran. Before you could ask on what had happened, he spoke.

"Why did you do that! Take me back, I want to go back!" he panted. You got up from your seat with Hodor, making your way over to the distressed boy.

Crouching down next to Bran, you started to reach out, but were interrupted.

"No." Was the simple answer given to Bran by the old man.

In an attept to convey the urgency to the Three-Eyed Raven, Bran pulled away from you. He struggled to pull himself up, but was untimately successful. Now facing the old man, holding himself up by his forearms and elbows. "He heard me!" Bran's voice was getting louder.

Contrary to him, the Three-Eyed Raven stood monotone, "Maybe. Or maybe he heard the wind." You did not know what was going on. You were starting to grow anxious at Bran's response to the situation.

"He. Heard. Me." Bran insisted.

"The past is already written, the ink is dry."

"Can someone please enlighten me to the sitution?" You questioned. Though, upsettingly met with no response. The two carried on with their quarrel, like you were not even there. If there was one thing you hated, it was being ignored by your own friends.

"What's in that tower?" Bran demanded an answer, shifting on his forearms, staring daggers into the Three-Eyed Raven. "I want to go back there."

"I have told you many times. Stay too long where you don't belong, and you will never return." A warning from the man.

"And why would I want to return!" You gave a barely auidble gasp at Bran's words. He couldn't possibly mean that he wanted to leave this world for the one in his visons? Could he?

"What, so I could just be a cripple again? So I can talk to an old man in a tree?" Bran stated fiercely. His words were true, he did want to leave this world.

"Brandon, what are you saying?" You wanted to hide away as soon as the words left your mouth, they were weak and revealed what you felt. Bran craned his neck to see you. He didn't look for long, as he turned back to the Three-eyed Raven when he spoke.

"Do you think I wanted to sit here for a thousand years? Watching the world from a distance, as the roots grew through me?"

"So why did you?" Bran tried to reason.

"I was waiting for you." Bran was irritated by this response. "I do not want to be like you." He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

With a laugh, the old man said "I don't blame you. You won't be here forever. You won't be an old man in a tree. But, before you do leave, you will learn."

"Learn what?"

"Everything."

With that being said, the Three-Eyed Raven dismissed Bran claiming he needed rest.

With all the bravery you could muster, you went over to Bran. "Can I speak now?" You angrily said.

"What is there to say?" He was angry as well, but not at you. Never at you.

You rubbed both hands down you face, "Help me understand. What could you have possibly seen that would make you want to leave us?"

"I can do so much more in my visions. I can walk! I feel things, I can do things. I mean something and I am not just a broken cripple." his voice raised at his last words.

"Can't you see, you have never been just a cripple to me. You are not just Bran the Broken. Are you so selfish that you would leave us without you? Brandon, I cannot live without you. Why do these visions claim you like an obsession? I thought we were in this together, that we work things out as a team. I am always on your side, but I do not take lightly to being ignored, you know this." You wanted to cry, to bawl your eyes out and to go back in time. To tell your little self that her heart would be torn. That the childhood crush was now complete and raw love for Brandon. But he would never feel the same. There was no point in wishing. It was a cruel trick your mind played.

He thought on his next words to say, but you had already made up your mind on the silent treatment. There wasn't many rooms to storm off to in a cave, but the many crevices of the stone would give you enough decisions.

You knew it was cruel to walk away from a man who physically couldn't follow, but you couldn't bare to see the look in his deep eyes. Oh, the eyes you loved so dearly. The eyes you could only wish to die looking into.

Night fell quickly, and Meera didn't even take notice to your swelled eyes, or the fact you were avoiding Bran. Not that you would have had a minute alone anyways. She was far too lost in her grief.

You tossed and turned on the cold, hard ground. Sleep escaped you. You found yourself not just thinking of Bran and your feelings to him, but also the future. Would Bran simply return as the new Three-Eyed Raven. Would he become the Three-Eyed Raven, what would happen to the old man? Were his poor siblings alive? Was your dearest old friend Sansa well?

It was hard to miss the heavy footsteps that shook you from your thoughts. You recognized them to be Hodors. He let a hand out to grasp your shoulder, thinking you were asleep.

"Whats wrong Hodor, did something happen?" "Hodor." His voice was even, he wasn't upset or in danger. This gave you little relief however, what else could he want.

You sat up, squinting at him. "Hodor."

Should you get up? Does he want food, was his coat tangled? No, he wouldn't wake you for something so small.

You stood up. His height over you was intimidating to anyone who didn't know him. But, you did know him. One of the most gentle souls.

He guided you to a section of the cave which was partially blocked off. With a hand to your back, he ushered you forward. You trusted him, going blindly to the closed off area.

Bran was sat against the cave walls, hands folded in his lap. Summer was curled up beside him, eyes slightly opening at the disturbance then shutting again. You wanted to turn around and run outside, maybe the Wights would get you before further embarrassment.

"Thank you Hodor." Bran dismissed the large man.

You were at a lost for words, bashully staring at the floor. After replaying the conversation in your head over and over again, you realized your feelings had got the best of you. You had overreacted.

"I am so sorry Bran, I spoke before I thought. I know you didn't mean what you said, I've just been a ball of anxiety and emotions. We can just forget what happened and move on, so you can grow with your powers." You mustered out, words losing strength. Still standing rigid in front of him, feet away.

He let you finish. Somehow he knew you needed to speak before listening. With a deep breath he began. "Please sit?"

You expected him to have a plain excuse, and leave it at that. Though things were never that easy with Bran. He gestured to the spot next to him.

Timidly, you moved to sit down. Careful to keep your distance and not touch him, you didn't understand why though.

He said your name in an exhale, looking off to the empty space that was now infront of him. He then turned to you.

Your heart was racing, there had never been a time like this. Any squarrel the two of you had was forgotten quickly and moved on the same day of. This was a bigger feat, and was much more than what Bran had let slip to the Three-Eyed Raven.

"I do not have the proper words to express... Here.. In this world I am just a cripple," You tried to stop his negative talk about himself, but was shushed. "I would give up many things to feel my legs again.. But it would not even be a consideration to leave you beind. I know without a shred of doubt I cannot live without you. But you- you don't need me." He admitted, picking at the wool of his coat sleeve.

"Bran, I do not care if you cannot walk or run." You insisted.

He knew you were telling the truth, but he also knew that there would be much you would miss out on if you stayed with him.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Anything, anything at all Bran."

"You mustn't tell a soul, it could ruin many lives." You were a bit worried, but urged him to go on.

"Of course not."

"I didn't fall." He waited to see your reaction, which was confused.

"The day when I had my accident, I did not fall. I was pushed. I was pushed by Jamie lannister."

"The Queens brother?" You scooted closer, your leg knowingly touching his. A hand dropping on to his own. Which he held.

"While climbing an abandoned tower, I saw him and his sister...Queen Cersei." You begged him to continue, what could they have possibly been doing to push Bran from the top of a tower.

"They were engaged in want I found out to be intimate relations." He had a sour look on his face.

You mouth fell open, "But, they are twins? The queen was married, and engaged in such acts?" you were baffled, and quickly understood why it was a touchy subject.

"Why would you let them get away with such an act. They left a permanent change on your life.."

He deeply inahaled, he possibly didn't know why he did it either. His posture changed as he prepared his next words. Pursing his lips before speaking.

"The last thing I remember was him sayng, 'The things I do for love.'" His mouth slightly ajar as he stared at you.

"Bran, I would do anything for you..." You tightly gripped his hand with your own.

He gave you a sorrow look. "You don't want me."

A sob threatened at your throat. How could he possibly think so lowly of himself. When you thought the world of him.

"Bran I love you. It would be a cruel joke to claim otherwise." You brought your free hand to cup one side of his cheek. Thumb moving up and down, a soothing method.

He loved you too, so much that he thought his heart might burst. That he could die in content just knowing you would have a happy life. A happy life where a husband could give you whatever you wanted. He thought you deserved piles of jewels, maids at your feet... children.

He changed his gaze to the floor, forcing your hand off his face. He prepared himself to use his last resort to turn you away. "I could not give you a child."

With a slight scoff, "That is years before us, how could you possibly know anways. How could you know for sure."

"Many Maesters had come to check my legs, each confirming a thing I didn't understand at the time. You need someone who can provide for you." His insecurities flowing out. You swear you saw a single tear flow down.

You couldn't imagine being with anyoe else "If it means being with you, then I do not want children. It would be the greatest honor to spend the rest of my life with you Brandon Stark." You continued.

"Please, Bran. I would live in misery if I knew I never had a chance with you, what can I do to be enough."

He jerked up, eyebrows frowning. "You are everything anyone could ask for. How could you say that, nothing else would make you more perfect."

"Then why don't you want me? I see past a cripple, I would scream it to the world that I love you. That you are much more than what people see with their ignorant eyes." You begged, pulling at his hands. "Prove to me that I am enough Bran." You finished.

"I would have wished to do this in a more proper way, to have planned better. But It would fill my days with an unspeakable and ultimate joy for you to be my bride one day, will you make such a pledge? To wed back in our home, in Winterfell one day?" He asked. Tightly holding your hand in his. Heart pounding and cheeks rosy. His eyes looking back and forth at you, searching for any sign of disgust or dismay. He feared this was all some kind of joke Meera and you decided to play.

You didn't respond at first, you leaned out to him, placing you head on his chest. You got comfortable in his arms, which had quickly invited you. He rubbed your back with one hand. The other resting on your shoulder.

You listened for his heartbeat, knowing it was quicker than normal, then you whispered, "Nothing would make me happier." you turned your head up, noses touching.

His brown eyes deeply filling your gaze. You didn't want anything else to ruin this moment.

You swallowed stiffly and brought your head up a smidge higher to brush your lips to his. He grabbed the back of your head and closed the gap, kissing you.

It wasn't like how you had read in stories. No, this was very different than you had ever imagined your first kiss being. This was Bran, warm and soulful. You swore you could never leave this moment.

The painful inexperience the two of you had was promiennt. Both slightly insecure, but nonetheless in love. You pulled back slightly to hold his face in your hands. He brought a hand up to wipe a tear you didn't know had fallen from your cheeks.

A laugh escaped your mouth, "I have wanted this forever. I had dreamed about this moment, Brandon" He looked silently, and responded by pulling you in for a hug.

"You are now my betrothed," He spoke as if you might have denied it. "I will love you till the day the gods take me from you, and I will stay true to only you." He ended with your name on his lips.

You giggled, looking up at him once more. Giving him a peck before nestling back into his fur coat.

From all the movement, Summer had awaken again. She came up to the two of you and tried to nuzzle inbetween. Though Bran had no intentions of letting you go. Summer gave each of you a long lick across your faces, like she knew what had just happened.

Now straddling the boy beneath you, you thought how on you were prepared to spend your whole life with Bran.

With Summer leaning against you, Bran and you fell asleep in eachothers arms. The troubles of the future could wait another day, and Bran would tell you every detail about his vision with his father tomorrow. But all he wanted now was to hold you.

A/n- TYSM for reading ily!

[vampirepirates]

THE LONG WINTER — SANDOR CLEGANE .

Masterlist:

cast + author's note

parts:

1 2

CHAPTER ONE , A NEW FRIEND.

Hooked on a dream that is reeling me in. Oh, is this how we begin? Flowers on fire in black and white film.

— Count Me In, Early Winters

Lyarra Stark had always been a wolf, for all intensive purposes. Frost coated her blood, winter exuded her very being. From the day she came into the realms of men, she was cold to the touch. As her mother went to caress her cheek for the first time, she couldn't help the instinctual flinch. Her babe all but frozen, with pink cheeks — and warm breath. When they took her to the Maester, they discovered there had been nothing wrong with her — not at all. She was born of Winter, and Winter she would remain.

When her hair began to grow in, it was thick — black curls, that cascaded down her. She stood out from the snowy wasteland of the North. As did her personality. While her eldest brother Brandon had always been described as a hot-head, she was cold. Not unkind, but her words were sharp. She did not speak often, and never to those outside of her family.

Her sister, Lyanna, carried the very thought of love with her everywhere she went. It was impossible to hate her, unthinkable to not adore. The two were halves of one whole. In that same breath, they were also almost identical. Lyarra's features were just a bit sharper than Lyanna's. To the naked eye, one could hardly tell the difference. While it was expected of ladies to think naught of anything but life — but love, childbearing, and marriage — the twins would spend their nights sparring. No one else would ever come close to raising a blade to them, wooden or not -- so they knew it was their own task to see through. The two, previously alike in everything but name — had only one staggering difference. Lyanna would spend her nights blissfully thinking of her life ahead, of flowers and life. While Lyarra knew all too well of what was to come.

She wasn't blind to the life that was expected of women. What was expected of her. It was at the age of eight that she began sneaking out of the walls of Winterfell — at the very peak of night. When one could see nothing but wisps of snow coating the ground — and stone surrounding them. She'd been beyond the walls a few times, but not often. Her own curiosity took hold of her, pushing her further and further — until she came upon a forest. It was nothing frightening, by any means. Lyarra could see the end of the tree-line, if she stood up. The trees almost seemed to form a circle, with one solitary stump in the middle. Again, Lyarra's feet seemed to carry her before her mind could argue — and in a few short steps, she was perched on the stump, watching the snow fall above her.

Every night that she could, for the years to come — she would spend her hours gazing up at the trees on that very stump. Sometimes she would bring a book, sometimes her sword. But she would never share it with anyone else. If she had to live someone else's life — a ladies life — she would need something to her own. Even if it stung to keep something so precious from her sister.

At age ten, she traveled with her brothers to Riverrun — and as it was her first time making such a journey, she spent most of it clutching her sister's hand. The two did not hold one another close very often. Lyanna would scold Lyarra for how cold she was, and rip whatever Lyarra was holding onto out of her grasp. It wasn't meant to be cruel, and she knew very well how her touch felt to others — but she could never help the scowl that followed. This time, though, Lyarra would not let her out of her grasp. For all of her curiosity, she couldn't help but long to be back within the walls of Winterfell.

The more that she cowered to her sister's side, the more attention from her brothers she drew to herself. This was not the first time that Brandon had made this journey — as they were going to visit his intended, after all — nor Eddard, for that matter. Though it was Benjen's first time traveling this far, he walked ahead of the two girls. As Lyarra noticed this, she couldn't help but pout in the slightest. She longed for her brother to be by her side, making her laugh — taking her mind off of the journey. Eddard, as if he knew what she was thinking, glanced towards Benjen's retreating figure. His jaw fell open, as if to call for his brother, but he shut it just as quickly — thinking better of himself.

"'S alright, Lyarra. We'll be back home soon, I swear it." Eddard grasped onto her shoulder. The boy was only a few years her elder, but she couldn't help the awe she felt in his presence. If she thought her sister carried the thought of love with her everywhere she went, her brother carried honor. It was almost breathtaking, in certain lights. The peace and loyalty that he exuded, that came out in his very presence. She couldn't do much but nod, but even that was enough to bring a calming smile to Ned's lips. He squeezed her shoulder, bending down to meet her eyes evenly, and she couldn't help but meet his smile with one of her own.

For the first few days of their visit to Riverrun, Lyarra did not care to leave her quarters. When she did, she stayed at the side of her sister — avoiding any sort of conversation with those around her. Brandon did his best to introduce her to those around them, but she only spared them a timid smile — before moving to stand behind him. On the third day, however, Lyarra snuck out of her room at the very peak of the night — as she normally would have, had she been home. This time, however, she knew she could not exit the walls. She knew not how to come back in, nor if they would hear her yelling. Instead, she took to wandering the halls. She was unaware of how much time had gone by, stuck in a palace of her own thoughts. After a while, she came across a small stone window. If she tried hard enough, she could stick half of her body out of it — shimmy her way down. But this wasn't a prison, not really. How she longed to return home, though. Her curious stupor was broken then, by a small - almost weasley voice,

"It's a long fall, you know. I've thought of it before. At best, your ankle would snap as you landed. At worst? Your head would cave from the pressure." Lyarra almost jumped out of her own skin, as she twisted her head to find where the voice was coming from. In front of her stood a small, common-looking boy. With clothes far finer than one would assume he would have. His eyes were soft, while the rest of him was sharp. He was, in all, truly a small child. One look at him, and Lyarra knew the boy wasn't royalty. So, he wasn't Edmure Tully then. Unfortunate, that Lyarra hadn't listened much when her brother had described the inhabitants of the castle.

As if he knew what she was thinking, a coy smirk pulled across the boy's lips — with a smile forming just as small as the rest of him. "My name's Petyr. Petyr Baelish." The last part came out as a bit of a ramble, as if it were an afterthought. He couldn't be royalty, or any kind of highborn. The ward, then. Now Lyarra could vaguely recall her brother's words. Eddard had not spoken fondly of the boy — describing him as a leech, for lack of a better term. However, in this light, Lyarra could not see what was so monstrous about him. He appeared to be just a boy.

"Lyarra is mine. I apologize my .. friend, I know I am not meant to be out of my quarters. I only meant to take a short walk. I will return at once." Her words came out meek, and she sounded much smaller than she would've liked. Petyr, who seemed to brighten at the word 'friend' took a step forward, as she meant to make her retreat.

"Please, don't leave on my account. Spend your night roaming the halls, if that is what you wish. That's what I did, on my first night here." Petyr's coy smile melted into something more genuine, and Lyarra could just barely see a glisten of light in his eyes. He didn't want her to go. The further she stepped away, the closer he stepped to her. If it were anyone else, Lyarra would feel threatened. But somehow, she knew that this boy wouldn't hurt her. "If it would comfort you to not spend your night alone, I could walk with you. I was on my way to my own quarters, when I saw you."

Lyarra couldn't help the hesitation that swept over her. She didn't have any friends, beyond her siblings. She had never been outspoken in that aspect, never in the way that she should have been. Yet, here was a boy practically throwing himself at her feet — just for the chance of a friend. She took a breath, before reaching her arm out — giving him the chance to link with her.

"Come then, Petyr. I'd like to see what other secrets this 'castle' has in store for me." She glanced at him expectantly, then, and couldn't help but meet his smile with one of her own as he grasped onto her. Unlike everyone else, he did not shy away from how cold she was. His eyes only widened for a second, before he clutched onto her arm that much stronger. The two spent the night roaming the halls, and for once Lyarra listened as someone explained the meaningless history of these walls to her. She matched his stories with some of her own, describing to him what Winterfell was like — what her first snowfall felt like.

The two only stopped, when they had returned to the window again. The sun was just barely rising, somehow they'd managed to talk through the entire night. As Petyr went to make his leave, Lyarra clutched onto his sleeve before she could stop herself.  At his inquisitive, but not unkind look — she took a breath, before she spoke.

"Back home, I would do this every night. I would sneak out of my chambers, beyond the walls. Past the guards, into the woods. And every night, I would go to this forest. A small thing, really. But in the very center of the forest stood a stump. Yet it isn't frayed, like someone cut it themselves. It's as if it just grew that way. Small, never growing any larger. Content. And when I would sit there, for once it felt as if I knew my place. As if I was meant to be there." Lyarra finished her ramble as quickly as it began, as she delicately placed her free hand onto the stone at the bottom of the window. She had never told anyone that before, and here she was — prattling her secrets off to the first stranger she'd met. Petyr took a beat before answering, and Lyarra couldn't help but realize how ridiculous she sounded. She'd only just gone to correct herself, when he spoke up.

"Should I ever make that journey, I'd like to see that. If you'd have me." His words were soft, and as her head snapped to him for the second time that night — she saw in his eyes then what she had never seen before. Understanding, wholly and completely. He knew how it felt to not have a place in the world, to not know where you belong. The value of having somewhere entirely to yourself. She couldn't help the small grin that graced her lips.

"Well, of course, Petyr. You're my friend, aren't you?" For the second time that night, Lyarra watched as the boy all but glowed at the word. He needed a friend just as badly as she did. Maybe even more. The two held onto one another for a beat longer than necessary, before saying their goodbyes. As Petyr began to walk in the other direction, Lyarra called out for him. "Petyr, if you wouldn't mind? Keep what I told you between us. I haven't told anyone else.." He said nothing, but the previous coy smile that she'd been introduced with covered his lips once more. With a slight nod, the two went their separate ways.

The rest of Lyarra's stay passed in all but a blur. She spent her day with Lyanna — or one of her brothers, if they weren't busy with the Tully girls. She hadn't gotten much of a chance to speak to her brother's intended, herself. Catelyn Tully intimidated Lyarra, for some reason that she couldn't place. While Petyr's features were sharp, Catelyn's words carried that weight instead. She exuded a sense of responsibility everywhere she went. Lysa, on the other hand, didn't carry herself the way that her sister did. Though, admittedly, Lyarra had only gotten glimpses at her — and each time, the girl was already glaring at her. A petulant child, then. Lyarra spent her nights roaming the halls with Petyr. Some nights they would go to one of their respective quarters, both sitting on the floor — in a way unbecoming of their station — as they talked about their lives. About things they'd never seen, and the things that they wanted to see. Some nights, Lyarra would have supper with her family as well as the Tullys — and throughout the night she would make faces at Petyr, forced to contain her laughter at his reaction. She caught Edmure giving her a strange look more than once, and each time she would simply look back at him blankly.

Eddard caught on all too quickly, though her other siblings remained oblivious to this newfound friendship. He'd made his disapproval quite clear. 'Littlefinger' -- as he'd so delicately named him — 'was not to be trusted', he'd argue. Every day, the two siblings would get into the same quarrel. She loved her brother, and trusted him beyond words. But she wouldn't allow his bias to go against her care for her new friend. Too quickly, she became all too aware of Petyr's feelings for Catelyn. When she was braced with the news, she couldn't help the slight sting in her chest. Of course, she would never be allowed to marry someone as lowborn as Petyr (though, in her eyes, a ward was far from below her) but he was the first boy who had taken an interest in her for her. Her own bitter feelings subsided eventually, though, as she saw her friend longingly staring at the Tully girl.

On the final day of their stay, Lyarra spent her night at the very window where she was introduced to Petyr. As she waited for him, staring up at the sky, she couldn't help but think about how different things were. She dreaded going home, after all this time. Losing her one friend, being forced to return to a life that didn't feel like her own. Reminiscent of their first meeting, Petyr broke her out of this thought by lightly grasping her shoulder. This time, she knew exactly who it was without looking. She'd become familiar with the boy's almost-too-soft hands. His spindly fingers.

"There's something I want you to see. Something I think you'll like." Was all he said as a greeting, gently moving to spin her towards him. Her brow furrowed almost instantly, and without a word she nodded — moving to follow him silently. The two didn't say much to one another, Lyarra still stuck in her somber thoughts. Petyr, as if noticing this, clasped onto her arm as he had on the first night. Before she knew it, the two were outside — walking along the battlements. This was the furthest outside she had been since her stay began, even when she walked through the castle with her family. Lyarra's eyes cascaded over the water below, as she marveled at the land in the distance. As she turned to look back to Petyr, she noticed he was already looking at her.

"Figured you would like to get out of the castle, at least once." Was all he supplied, with a small — almost imperceptible shrug. Lyarra couldn't help the smile that overtook her, as she all but threw herself into the thin arms of the boy next to her. He grunted in surprise, as her arms entirely wrapped around the small boy.

"Thank you, Petyr. Oh, thank you, my friend." Her voice was muffled, as she shoved her face into his coat. After a beat, he moved his arms to wrap around her in return. She held him for only a moment longer, before pulling back with a wide grin. Lyarra turned back to the open land, moving to clutch onto his hand then. "There's so much out there.. haven't you ever wondered where it all ends?" At that, Petyr let out a noncommittal grunt. He stepped forward, placing his own hands on the stone wall.

"'Course, I have. These walls, they're all I've ever known. All I'll ever know, if I'm being honest." He sounded almost sorrowful. As if he were a frail bird locked away in a cage, desperate to fly as far as he could away. "The Tullys, they took me in when they didn't have to. My family was nothing, I've yet to forget that. Yet to be allowed to, I should say." Lyarra understood what he meant all too well. She had always been grateful that she was given this life. That her family didn't need to fight for food, that she had a warm hearth. But at night, she dreamt of living another life. A free one, where she was allowed to do as she wished. She was young, still a child of course — but she was soon to be a woman, whether she wished for it or not. Lyarra squinted them, trying to look as far as she could into the distance.

"If you could, where would you go?" Lyarra had never felt as young as she did in that moment. For just a second, the two were only hopeful children — dreaming of a life so far out of their grasp. For just a moment, they were allowed to wish for something else. A beat of silenced stretched over the battlements as the boy thought.

"South. King's landing. Maybe I'd work for the king. Work my way up, until I was his most trusted advisor. Men often overlook what they cannot see." He seemed to spin a web of gold, within his words. He sounded so certain of himself, and it was such a contrast to the timid boy that Lyarra had come to know. Her stomach churned, almost uneasy — but she couldn't feel the burst of pride within her chest as the boy dreamt of a life so far away.

"You'd make a good king, I think. You're smart enough to navigate that sort of thing." Her words showed her own youthful innocence, as she leaned against the stone wall to smile at Petyr. At that, his eyes seemed to narrow with intensity — as if her words alone just gave him a purpose he'd never truly imagined.

"Intelligence means nothing in the eyes of a King. King's Landing itself is chaos — a pit that I'm not quite confident I'd be able to find my way out of." Petyr took this moment to lean against the wall himself, glancing over at the Stark girl as he spoke. Lyarra blinked, her expression more serious than he'd ever seen.

"Chaos isn't a pit, Petyr. It's a ladder. If you're a step ahead of someone else, you're just a step behind another." In just a moment, Lyarra sounded as if she had entirely grown up. Her voice was mature, the word's coming out of it carried that she kept close to herself. Petyr looked at her then, properly, and moved forward before he could stop himself. For the second time that night the two were linked — his arms wrapped around her waist. In an instant, she did the same -- wrapping her own arms around his neck. The two found understanding within one another that they had never found within someone else. Beneath the light of the stars, they held one another close for much longer than they had to — and only began their journey back inside once they saw the sun peak over the hills.

The following morning, Lyarra was back on the road before she was even fully awake. Her goodbyes with Petyr were quick, away from the all-seeing eyes of her siblings. She held him close as she had the night before, and he grasped onto her hand. They made a quick promise to see one another again, and he was gone before she could say anything else. On their way out, Lyarra stuck close to Brandon. She fit into the side of his cloak as he towered over her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. The Tullys bid them farewell, Catelyn smiling softly at her intended -- While Lysa, on the other hand, was glaring daggers into Lyarra. She almost glanced behind her to see if the girl was staring at something else, before she'd realized it was surely meant for her. She moved closer to Brandon, and ignored his inquisitive gaze as they began their journey.

Lyarra tried to ignore the sorrow that threatened to overcome her at the thought of leaving her first true friend behind — but she did her best to steel herself, marching proudly at her brother's side. On the way there, she had hung back with her sister the whole trip — insistent on avoiding everything she could. This time, she wanted to be in the front. She wanted to know what was to come, what the future had in store for her. Come what may, Lyarra would be ready for it. Even if she was forced to live a life she had no care for — she knew that she had the support of a small boy from Riverrun. A boy who was certain to work his way to the top, at the cost of anyone around him. She couldn't help the burst of pride she felt at that, and her steps almost doubled in speed.

"Lyarra, don't run ahead! Wait for us!" Eddard called after her, but she was already well over the hill. She was eager to get home. More eager than she'd been in weeks. She no longer dreaded what was in store, rather she'd never been more ready.

Okay, So. There's that! The first official chapter of this story .. What did you guys think?? I'll warn everyone now, there won't be a Sandor appearance for a minute. I have too much storyline to build. This book is about Lyarra, not just their relationship. I am very excited to build that as I go along.

As you can see, Petyr plays a large role in this fanfic. I wouldn't classify this as a 'Petyr x reader', because the feelings that the two have for one another are confusing even to one another. They are each other's first true friend, and there will always be love between them for that. They have a very complicated relationship.

The next chapter will likely involve two of the main characters that I have yet to introduce, and further propell Lyarra down the road that she is meant to take. I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Young Petyr is so interesting to write. And yes, I gave myself creative leeway, and made it so Lyarra is the one to give Petyr the "Chaos is a ladder" idea. Sue me. They're really smart ten year olds, alright. There are dragons in this series, not everything has to make sense.

As always, feel free to leave any thoughts that you have in the comments! My tiktok is @vhenanfilms if you would like the see the edits I am making based on the series! Thank you all,

Zevran.

[a-libra-writes]

so glad you're accepting some requests! i've loved your work for so long now. pls feel free to ignore if this doesn't strike your muse, i'll read basically anything you write.

i must ask for my fav ASOIAF boys: Stannis, Roose, Jorah, Jaime, and Sandor (you can pick and choose between this list, im definitely not expecting ALL of them 😭)

my prompt is awkward/untimely moments when they confess their love for the reader OR moments that make them soft for their lover (again, you can pick which interests you more....)

SORRY IF THIS IS A LOT, please feel free to pick and choose what you wanna do, if you wanna do any of them at all! thank you and have a nice night!

oh thank you!! Im glad you enjoy my silly blog so much. I thought the "moments that make them soft" was just super cute and made me think a lot, so I picked that one. Your chosen characters are at the front, and I added a few more for my own self indulgence

No warnings, Reader is implied to be married in most. Also, Roose is Roose.

Stannis - There are many things Stannis gets sentimental for, not that he could think of them on the spot. It's all things that happen in the moment.

When he's at a social function with you and someone's infuriating him, it grounds him when you gently touch his hand. You might say you aren't feeling well, and of course it's a husband's duty to take you away from the crowd and make sure you're alright... then he realizes you just feigned feeling faint for his sake. 

Another time is when you defend him, especially against the criticisms of other lords. He can handle himself, and he always has, but there's something different about you coldly (and politely) telling them off. The harsher your words, the better.

Gentle touches on his jaw when he grinds his teeth, a touch on the shoulder when he's totally absorbed in something and isn't hearing your call, and wanting to take his arm when you both have to appear before the public. While he's averse to most touching, the fact you're considerate of that instead of criticizing means a lot.

Also, appreciating his attempts to please you, and saying so! Appreciation is not something Stannis gets a lot of, even when his best is put forth. Bringing up something sweet he did a while back will actually get a blush and grumble out of him. 

And while it may not seem like a lot, generally just supporting him in court politics means more than he can say. You aren't just performing an expected wifely loyalty, you genuinely want the best for him and House Baratheon. Being on the same page and working in tandem brings such emotions - relief, gratitude, affection - it can be difficult for Stannis to express with words or actions, but he's absolutely soft for it.

Roose - This can be tricky for his partner to discern unless they're paying close attention or it's been a long time in the relationship. Roose does not wear his emotions, positive or negative, openly. The most obvious emotion one might see is pleased contempt for someone he's just intimidated or screwed over.

Any softness would first come from his wife willingly touching him, usually when she's doing something simple. Adjusting his cloak when it's a little askew, taking his arm when visiting other lords, touching his hand during a meal when you're trying to make a point. He's told himself he doesn't care what your feelings are, he just needs a wife to secure an alliance and an heir, but ... well, it is easier if you're fond of him ... 

He's such a suspicious and careful person that overt affection may be seen as an act, so it's little things where you forget yourself that he thinks of most. When you lean into him as you both speak, or gasp in spite of yourself when he grasps you. The satisfaction of making you "forget" yourself is stronger than if you're doting at the start. 

Sometimes, if Roose catches you being affectionate with any children you both share, he'll watch for a few moments. Again, he tells himself it's simply that he "won" over you and that's the only reason he's so pleased.

Jorah - Tbh it's easier to list what doesn't make him soft for you

The biggest one is when you're fussing over him! Jorah is always the one who puts your needs before his own, so you insisting on caring for him and spoiling him a bit just gets him weak in the knees. It's hard to say what he likes best, but making his favorite meal followed by tons of affection is enough to wash away any fatigue.

Showing him off and being obviously proud of being his partner is another thing that gets him fluttery. He already gazes at you adoringly on a regular basis, but now he looks like you hang the moon when you take his arm and happily introduce him as your's.

And, he can't help but melt when you're sweet with kids. Wether you're helping a little one up after they fall or teaching how to do something, he just has to watch from a distance. Yes, he'd want children if you wished for them, but it's moreso he appreciates the compassion you show those smaller and weaker than you. It's sweet how children seem to rely on and cling to you, knowing you're someone safe - and obvs, if these were children you had or adopted together, it made him even more sentimental and emotional.  

Jaime -First, it's tough to know when Jaime is having feelings because most of the time, he's hiding it. If he's caught gazing fondly at you, he'll brush it off with sarcasm.

The easiest way for him to catch feels is just you being honest with your intentions and feelings. When you tell him how much you adore him, or you appreciate something he did - especially after you both were intimate and you're cuddled up, and you just state how you feel with no manipulations or strings attached, it does something to him. He doesn't respond at first, just quietly contemplating your words long after you've fallen asleep.

Another time is when you see through his arrogance and bravado. When Jaime's trying to assure you he's fine and he's dealt with it, and he isn't bothered by what happened at all actually, and you just quietly listen. That bravado wavers just so, and it just takes a few well-placed questions before he finally just caves and tells you what's actually going on (how do you and Tyrion do that so well?). The fact you listen and don't judge or admonish him is something that occurs to him much later. He can go to you with a problem, and that's a rare vulnerability for the disgraced knight.

Sandor - He is far more affected by you than he wants to admit to himself, especially at the beginning, but after being years of being together, anyone with eyes could see it.

First of all, you're so damn gentle. You always talked to him with a kindness and politeness he wasn't used to, and while he initially brushed it off, the annoying thing is you were genuine. You'll even touch carefully or be considerate of things that may upset him, like he needs to be protected, the huge "knight" that everyone is terrified of. It completely affects Sandor and for a long time he didn't know what to do with himself. Now he just quietly accepts it, allowing himself to be vulnerable and cared for instead of immediately crushing those feelings.

On the same lines, it used to trouble Sandor how you'd hold him so tight. It didn't matter if it was after sex or just an embrace out of nowhere (the latter is a bit more startling), and it almost sent him into a fight-or-flight response the first few times you did it. He's far more comfortable with it than before, but now embraces tend to send him into something of a "reset". Any anger or darkness that was clouding him will fade just slightly, and he'll lean into you and let his guard down.

Brandon - Though he carries plenty of bravado and confidence, it's pretty easy for others to tell when he's being soft on you, especially his family members. The easiest way to get him feeling fluttery is to rely on him. Yes, even if you're clearly teasing or messing with him, you like to have him carry you over water or lift you up on your horse or "protect" you while you both go on a walk in the late hours. It's like he's a boy with a crush again, and he likes to show off his strength.

There's also the simple things that get him every time, like when you take his hand and entwine your fingers out of nowhere. You won't say anything, you'll just do it, and when you kiss his hand and knuckles it gets the big man oddly flustered.

Asha - While she's certainly felt all sorts of soft around you, it's not immediately obvious. As much as she loves you, she doesn't go on about grand gestures or proclamations. It's just not her style. So when you do something just so damn cute and charming - like rambling on about something you love or ranting about someone who pissed you off - she just smiles.

An outsider might think she's just amused, but those in the know have never seen such an expression of adoration on her. When you finish your tirade, she just teases you with a kiss and a pull of the cheek. You ought to stop being so damn cute. Another thing she likes is when you're frank with her. When you honestly tell her how much you love her, or how happy you are - even if she didn't have doubts, it's nice to hear it.

Victarion - First, he doesn't think he's capable of such "weak" feelings and vulnerability. If anyone brought it up, they'd be punched. If his family brings it up, he grumbles and scowls. If you do, he just frowns and turns away. It's not expected of an Ironborn, so obviously he doesn't have any softness toward you. None.

Not even when you've managed to get him in your arms and have him rest on your chest - not an easy feat, this is always after sex and usually when he's drunk - and he can feel your skin and heartbeat. You touch his rough, tangled hair, and his scarred face, and his even more scarred back, and the huge man is like putty. He's heavy, sure, but it feels warm and safe. Later when he's awake and sober and going about whatever he does during the day, he'll think back on that embrace, and odd feelings he can't describe just pick at him.

A smaller thing is when you approve of something he does, regardless if it's an action or words. Even just glancing at him and nodding - even if subtle, he notices. It's like a thrill going through him and Victarion wonders why for a solid minute. Maybe he should do that thing more, or say those words again? Why does he care about your reaction anyway, and why does he want it again? It's even worse when you leave without explaining what exactly it was that pleased you. Asha says he'll figure it out eventually.

[lovebaela]

♡ Ice & Fire - m.list (Discontinued)

Genre: Romance, fluff, smut (I’ll try LOL), angst

Pairing: Bran Stark x Targaryen OC

Age: 15+ (honestly I don’t care who reads this but basically mature audiences)

তততততততততততত তততততততততততত

♡ Chapters:

Introduction + Prologue

Chapter 1 - Winter is Coming

Chapter 2 - The Tower

Chapter 3 - King’s Landing

Chapter 4 - The Beginning of War

Chapter 5 - The Harvest

Chapter 6 - Journey to the Wall

Chapter 7 - Craster’s Keep

Chapter 8 - The Three-eyed Raven

Chapter 9 - Home

Chapter 10 - A Night in the Sky

Chapter 11 - The Wedding

Chapter 12 - Together at Last

Chapter 13 -

┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈┈┈

TAGLIST: @icarusignite @rinisfruity14 @katdahlali @joliettes @alexisf12 (I’ll gladly add you if you want, just make sure you comment and ask!)

[sasagehoes]

THE NECROMANCER

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈𝐈 ;𝐂𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐏𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𓅨˚₊‧⁺⋆♱;; Your days in Castle Ward are far from peaceful ever since that eventful night. And now with the announcement that the King's arrival is near, who could sleep well? So you ask yourself, will the gods be satisfied with all the bloodshed that shall take place outside of these walls?

masterlist | series masterlist

previous chapter ~ next chapter

CW; This series contains a LOT of sensitive topics. Just like the show, there will be individual warnings for each chapter, I'm not responsible for what you read.

graphic depictions of gore/ caracasses/ dead animals/ death/ death/ and more death/ violence towards humans and animals

2.6k words

READ AT YOUR ONE DISCRETION

After everything subsided and countless visits from the maester you were told you could finally leave the chambers, your mind was so confused at everything, the nightmares, the horrible stench that everything had, the subtle ire that consumed you at the looks men started giving you around the time of your 12th name day. 

Arya occupied most of your time with the sneaking about to spar, ending with more than a couple of bruises, mud stains, and scoldings from both the septa and Lady Stark.  

After the whole kiss ordeal Bran had avoided you like the plague, not out of ill intentions, that you knew, simply out of embarrassment. You found it hilarious, shouldn’t you be the one embarrassed? He kissed you not the other way around. 

You made it your mission that week to annoy him the most, see how much it would take for him to break the silence. 

At dinner one day you sat next to him and smiled. His body visibly stiffened, and his face went red, you tried your hardest to not let a cackle slip, but to no avail, as soon as Robb mentioned something about his reaction, you broke in laughter, the rest of the table followed suit. His eyes were fixed at the table in shame. 

“Are you alright my dear?” you asked with a knowing smile. 

“W-what?  Yeah, I’m good” he said with a slight stutter. 

The interaction earns a few other giggles from the youngest Stark. 

Once dinner culminated Bran was the first to bolt out the mess hall, you followed suit 

“You’ve been avoiding me like Greyscale Brandon” you say  

“I have not,” you cached up to him and started walking by his side 

“Yes you have, can't we just be normal friends? I'm not asking you to love me right away, hell I know I do not” you laughed and continued; “just, don’t be a stranger” 

His steps met a stop and he replied, looking at the floor “Fine, don’t keep teasing me about it, and…sorry about the other day and the days before that’ 

You knew what he meant, the constant cold shoulder, and the peck on the cheek the day you woke from your nightmare fueled slumber. 

Now it was your turn to go red “I didn’t mind...next time just ask, good night my lord” you waved and left, quite in a hurry to avoid any other questions from the boy. 

The next morning the avoidance was gone, and you exchanged a couple of words in between duties, the hesitance was there but it was a step forward. Over the months that followed the shy conversations turned into full on banter.  

Once he had tried convincing you of climbing a small wall on the castle which led to both of you on the floor laughing, gathering yourself quickly to avoid a scolding from his mother. 

One of the climbing escapades had worked out fairly well apart from the subtle scrapes on your knees and hands from constant slips, both of you now on the top of a wall hidden away, looking at the falling sun. 

“Did you have any dreams before you were told you had to marry me?” he asked you abruptly, even he caught himself by surprise “You don’t have to answer that, it's none of my business” he retaliated. “It's all right, I do not mind... I can’t really say if I longed to do something, but I know I’ve always wanted to serve my people no matter what...although now my views have shifted” you say calmly, the sadness in your voice palpable 

 “What about yours, did you have any dreams before the news?” you asked, not letting him ask any questions about your newfound hatred against your people back home. 

“I wanted to be a Kings guard” he said slowly, your eyes went wide for a second. 

“Do you resent me for depriving you of your dream?” you ask. His head turned to look at you, eyes wide “No! of course not, neither of us had a say in this arrangement, even if my parents said I could decide whether i would marry you or not, i knew they were only humoring me” he said holding your arms, you winced at the cuts getting irritated by his sudden touch. 

He took them away quickly “Sorry, we should go down before the sun goes down, the others might get the wrong idea” he said looking at the floor below the both of you. 

“Alright lead the way” you say not wanting to imagine how difficult the journey to descend was going to be. He seemed to notice and chuckled “I'll go first and wait down there, if you fall I'll catch you my lady.” 

“You better not or ill poison your food at dinner” you throw him a small scowl at his teasing. 

At the end no one fell, and no one was poisoned yet as expected your little escapade resulted in a brief scolding about how dangerous that climb was. 

“You, Brandon Stark may be experienced climbing, yet she isn’t, what if she falls? '' Lady Catelyn asked exasperated, “I would catch her mother, I helped her up and down, she’s fine” he replied. “Truly my lady I’m fine, just a couple of scrapes, nothing serious, I promise it won't happen again” 

It did happen again. 

The day of your 13th name day was just around the corner, and although the Starks prepared a small feast to commemorate the three years you had spent with them, you couldn’t get a pestering feeling that crept up in your head. Every night for the last week, your dreams were filled with the corpses of people you have never met before, dead animals, but one was a recurrent resident in the abode of your mind. A raven, as black as the night, sometimes it would stay still and quiet, while sometimes it opted to be more aggravating, screaming in your ear, flying in your line of sight to stop you from gazing at something you should not. 

Every night you would wake up in a cold sweat, it was slowly eating you alive and it was eminent in your eyes. The bastard, Jon Snow was the first to notice, although he and you did not really interact, you considered him someone that would bring you safety, having saved you from that horrible man, moons ago. You often sat next to him in silence, as he went about his duties, he never questioned it really, the silence was welcomed and so were you.  

“You’ve seen better days my lady” he said as he polished his sword, not looking at you. “Have you seen death my lord? Does it haunt you in your dreams?” you ask now looking directly at him 

To say he was surprised was an understatement, he's never been in a war nor a brutal battle, but he had seen his father execute men who take the black and proceed to break their oath. 

“It used to but then I got- accustomed to it as I got older” he said looking back at you now, “Does death plague your dreams?” he asked with a frown 

You thought for a second for an answer, saying yes would entail him asking about said dreams which would- 

“No, just wanted to ask” your response was rather quick, “I'm sorry to bother you, do carry on” with that you left the room, leaving the snow's son quite disturbed to say the least 

You sprinted back to the courtyard, the stench of blood emanating from every crevice of the garden, your insides contorted as a way to seek relief and as a final effort to do just that, the food you had eaten earlier that morning ended up on the ground. Your breath was heavy and your hands were supporting your body from touching the floor as you cursed out to the old gods and the new. You felt a piercing gaze near where you were, unmoving. You looked up and saw a raven staring right back at you, for a moment you thought you were having one of those hellish nightmares again since its eyes were as white as the snow that was said to decorate the land beyond the wall. You tried moving your hand its way to make it go away but to no avail, “What is it that you want from me you bastard” you scoffed at the feathered animal. As soon as those words left your mouth you felt your eyes go to the back of your skull, and just as it happened many nights ago. Everything went black.

You stood in front of an out of commission tower in Castle Ward, one that you failed to climb with Brandon during one of your escapades.This time it felt much taller than it did that day. In the blink of an eye, a bird fell from the upper window, falling right at your feet, making you gasp. After that, another came crashing down, and then another, and another, until the ground was covered in bird carcasses and you could only stare at it in disbelief and terror. As the last one fell, a soft scream could be heard. It sounded vaguely like Lady Catelyn’s voice, as you understood what the screaming voice said, your blood froze, Brandon it called. Brandon it wailed.

You jolted awake in the same soft grass you had fallen, the raven nowhere to be seen and the smell of rotting flesh nowhere to be perceived. You stood and went running to go find the boy, when you spotted him holding his bow, pointing the arrow at the target, you heart felt at ease once more. 

After that scare, the day went on rather normal, though your mind kept going to the Lady’s screams, the ravens and all the blood, you couldn't bear to relive that again. As the night fell, everyone returned to their chambers. You felt restless, you didn't want to succumb to sleep because the nightmares would haunt you, but at the same time the less you slept, the more irritable you became. Once you decided to go to bed at last, your mind was filled with blissful images of your family before all the atrocities that went down. Leiana chasing Ophelia down on the corridors as Amadeus taught your younger self how to read

‘All ladies should be well informed of the worldly matters’ he used to say

The images soon changed settings to the gorgeous gardens that reside in Castle Ravenna, the tulips that would only bloom in the warmer months, the lilies that often decorated Ophelia’s hair as soon as they bloomed, and the red roses that-

There were no red roses in Castle Ravenna.

Mother hated them.

You gasped as you woke up in front of that dreadful tower back in Winterfell, the ravens still surrounding you, yet instead of lifeless they were now croaking at you, all at once. If the nightmares wouldn't make you mad, this certainly would. You ran as fast as you could to the main entrance of Castle Ward yet the doors would not budge. From behind you, you could hear countless horses trotting your way, as the horses came closer and showed no sign of stopping only then did the doors open. You hurried back inside of the castle yet no one seemed to acknowledge your presence, everyone focused on the..King.

The King hopped off his high horse and went closer to the Stark family. Starting out with Neddard Stark, as soon as he hugged him, a horrible image flashed in your vision. Heads mounted on spikes, flies grouped around them, feasting on the rotting flesh, and among them all one stood from the others.

It couldn't be. 

As if to not let you know more, the vision ended, and you were once more back in front of the family being greeted by the King. Next was Robb, at the shake of their hands another vision struck you. A man with the head of Wolf was paraded as a laughing stock in a gathering. The blood from the wolf intertwined with that of the man’s, linking them as one. Your vision panned to the view of a horrified Arya, a few years older than what she was now, age not the one weighing down her features, but the things she had seen and gone through. As soon as your ears heard the words “King in the North” being exclaimed  by one of the perpetrators, you were pulled out of the nightmare. You opened your mouth to scream as the king neared Lady Stark, but the chords down your throat were not being strung, as if they were cut completely. Yet that didn't stop tears from welling in your eyes as you fell to your knees, another vision engulfing your tired mind.

You found yourself in a quiet hall as bodies littered the floors, a heaving Catlyn could barely muster any words as she held a young girl by the hair, dagger in hand, pointed at her neck. As if thunder had struck, the lady’s neck was slashed such as quick, all while her hostage held the same fate.

You couldn't handle anymore, this was your new found family..how could you stand this.

Once back at the entrance, you walked with all your might to try and stop the king from touching another family member. Yet a man with eyes as pale as snow, whom you had never seen before stood right in front of you.

“The God’s make things happen for a reason, all for which you will see with time, you were never supposed to see this. Sleep now child.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, a murder of ravens engulfed him and everything around you.

You awoke from the living hell you were just pulled from and sat up, slowly, you noticed that instead of the comfort of your chambers, you laid in the cold ground outside. In the very center of Castle Ward. Afraid this was another one of your mind’s cruel tricks, you grabbed the sharpest stone the floor could provide and gashed your hand. You let out a wince as the blood now trickled down the creases of your palm. Your body and soul were too tired to let out sobs, so you opted to stare at the abysmal darkness that the outside provided. Soon enough your eyes caught the one of a dead bird not too far away. Like a predator salivating after its next prey, the blood on your palm oozed quicker, and your mind only had one thing resounding in it, take it.

And take you did, like a rabid animal you ran to take it, your blood mixing with the birds still one, interlinking as one.

In the blink of an eye it felt like how it felt back when you were Amelia, yet this time it was more intimate, more.. Personal, it was your body getting traded for that of a carcass. Your soul transfering itself into the empty vessel of a bird. Your eyes went to the back of your head, the pearly whiteness quickly turning stygian. The lifeless bird no longer so, as your limp body fell on the ground with a thud, the bird took flight, standing atop of the tree near your sleeping figure.

In some way or another you must have regained your body’s soul back to its rightful place, since you were awoken by Sansa as you laid comfortably in your chamber bed.

“Wake up sister! I come bringing great news, the King is to come to Winterfell, and I shall marry his son Joffrey!”

The Gods have abandoned us long ago, we just pretend we are still in their presence.

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