#Edric x Sansa

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Lyanna survives the Tower of Joy and marries Robert. Jon is raised as Ned Stark's bastard, wanting for nothing. The realm knows only peace, until a red priestess of R'hllor comes to Lyanna, singing songs of the prince that was promised and a night without end.

Author: @ladyfenring

Note from submitter: Thee asoiaf fic of all time

[alleyskywalker]

NEW FIC(S): Love Songs (Sansa/Various)

Title: Love Songs Part I & II Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire Characters/Pairings: Sansa/Alys Karstark, Sansa/Brienne, Cersei/Sansa, Sansa/Dany, Sansa/Eleyna Westerling, Sansa/Frynne, Sansa/Gwin Goodbrother, Sanas/Harry, Sansa/Irri, Sansa/Jeyne P, Sansa/Loras, Sansa/Myrcella, Ned Dayne/Sansa, Sansa/Olyvar, Podrick/Sansa, Sansa/Quentyn, Sansa/Rhaenys, Sandor/Sansa, Sansa/Tris Botley, Val/Sansa, Sansa/Willas, Sansa/Young Griff, Sansa/Zia Frey, Sansa/OFCs Word Count: 11,397 Summary: An assortment of ficlets for various Sansa pairings, one for each letter of the alphabet.

Read on AO3

[knightofthenewrepublic]

[blissfulphilospher]

“I am not giving up on you Sansa. I will never do.”

She jerked her head towards him, her lips were quivering “Liar. You! You… stood like an unhatched dragon egg! You said nothing to grandfather and now are stealing my inheritance. Go back Jonnel, be the Lord, rule the North. You will be happy that way.”

Jon scowled and jumped from his horse “A dragon egg? And what should I have said?!” he shouted.

“That Winterfell belongs to Sansa! And why would you? You probably tried to kill me!” She accused once again.

Jon clenched his fist and walked into the river as far as he can “It wasn’t me, I didn’t tried to kill you, whatever pretty stories you have in your head Sansa, I love you! I do and I will. Even when I am rotting in the crypts, it will be you, forever in my heart.” He declared half way into the cold water.

[gendryafics]

After Arya Stark returns to Winterfell, she is prepared to fight like hell to save her family from the Army of the Dead. And then Jon comes back, and he marries her off to her childhood acquaintance Ned Dayne for Dorne's army. But Starfall holds secrets within its walls; contempt for the new Lady, untrustworthy servants, and a young blacksmith from times past. As Dorne delays in sending their army and the White Walkers creep ever closer to the Wall, Arya will have to rely on old friends and her new skills in order to save her pack.

[myladysapphire]

The Dragon and the Wolf

Epilouge

You had been betrothed to Cregan stark at the start of the war. He was the noble and honourable stark that he was he supported your mother claim without restraint. So much so your mother saw it fit to betroth the two of you. So when disaster strikes and you and your younger brother are the only two survivors, you a shipped of north in your grief, leaving only Cregan to heal your wounds.

word count: 2,212

CW: MDI, 18+, refrences to pregenacy, miscariges stillbirths and death, happy ending! lots of fluff (all the bad tags where small and lead to a very fluff, not proofread!

Cregan Strak x Veleryon(strong)!reader

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part |

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

authors note: this epilouge is largely based of cregan starks wiki page, thats why they have a hell of a lot of kids. find it here.

Cregan Stark had been many things, the lord of Winterfell, warden of the north, hand of the king. But most importantly he had been your husband. Married for 66 years before your death in 200 AC,

Your marriage with filled with tragedy and triumphs, but most importantly love.

A love that inspired songs, poems and stories.

Though you and he had your ups and downs, he stayed by your side during your worst and your best times.

And even after years of struggling, years of sadness and tears as your moons blood came, you and he ended with ten children to call your own.

First there had been Rickon, followed by Saera, Alys and Rhaeya, then Mariah, Jacearys, Edric, Lyanna, Lucerys and finally Brandon.

The birth of each of your children had filled your halls and your heart, the ache you had felt after the war had finally been filled, and you had felt whole once more.

You had found the happiness you had been chasing and felt contentment and happiness more and more each and every day.

Your love for each other continued to bloom and grow, love so deep that Cregan himself passed only moons after you, your son Jaceaerys, know as Jace ‘one eye’, becoming the lord of Winterfell after his death, though it was your youngest son Brandon that the stark line continued from.

Your legacy was one that would be remembered even a hundred years after your death, songs were still sung in your honour, halls and castle erected in your name, there was even a castle built in your honour on the wall, after your help in the victory against Sylas the grim.

But where your legacy blossomed still was within the walls of Winterfell, where your kin ruled to this day.

“we have Targaryen ancestry, or one ancestor to be precise” Ned Stark spoke to his children, as he walked them down the crypts of Winterfell.

He speak your name, bowing in respect as he approached your statue, your stood beside your husband Cregan Stark, your hands adjoined in a symbol of your love, a love that had become famous amongst the pages of history.

“she was the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Veleryon, the last rider of Silverwing and the last dragon rider in history. “

Sansa seemed giddy as she looked at her, her ancestor a Targaryen princess.

“did she fight in the dance of the dragons?” Jon asked, looking at his ancestors, noting the similarity in your features with his.

“aye, though she played the role of a diplomat more than a fighter, but she is too thank for several victories, even after the war she helped defend the north against wildings”

His children gasped in surprise, eagerly listening to their father recount the tales of you and your legacy.

“did any of her children have dragons?” Jon asked eagerly.

“aye, each child was given an egg, though only two hatched” he looked to the left towards were your children statues stood, “the ones belonging to Lord Jacearys and Lucerys, named after her brothers” he looked down to Jon, the most egar to here of his ancestors, “though it was said they died and grew no larger than cats“

A sound of disappointment left Jon at the news.

“is it true they were so in love that he died of a broken heart after her death?” Sansa asked.

Ned chuckled, “it was said he did, aye”

Sansa let out a small squealed, “imagine being so in love you can’t bare to live in a world without them” she gushed.

“aye, there love is famous” he said looking up at his ancestors.

“can any of you tell me about their children?

Robb raised his hand enthusiastically, “they had ten in total, though it was their second son Jaceaerys, named after her brother who died in the dance who succeeded Cregan…he then died with no children and was succeeded by Lucerys also named after one of her brothers whose death started the dance of dragons”

“very good Robb…but who succeeded Lucerys?”

“there youngest child, Brandon, who we are descended from” Arya spoke up, as she gazed at the sword at your hip. “was she trained with a sword?” she asked eagerly.

“most likely, she was a fighter, a warrior though most accounts was due to her fighting on the back of silver wing, it was said she killed several men who insulted her brother, King Aegon III and was known to have fought several who questioned her mother, Rhaenyra being a legitimate queen.”

Arya seemed very please with this response, as did Robb and Jon as they admired their 4x great grandmother.

At the feet of their statues laid 3 dragon eggs, long turned to stone, and though neither of them noticed at first, as Ned light the lights surrounding their statues, behind them sat the skull of Silverwing.     

A reminder of house Targaryen, and their power even now years after they had been defeated and banished.

And though you had become a stark you were forever remembered in house Targaryen, with your named reused countless times, a holdfast in the red keep named after you, and gardens throughout Westeros grew a rose named after you.

But whilst you had grown a legacy and left an indent on the history of Westeros, you had not lived to do so.

Your life had been one you had ended up devoting to your family, to love and happiness, no care if your section of the history books was a long one or not.

The first five years of your marriage where the one filled with the most hurdles to cross, with fertility issues and you suffering from depression, it truly tested your marriage but the day your eldest Rickon was born, was the day your life truly became filled with Joy.

Your pregnancy had been spent bed bound to nervous to venture out of it for fear of another miscarriage.

Cregan had moved his office to your shared chambers, insisting on spending every moment you would allow with him. His days spent with you, his meals shared with you in bed, he only left when necessary and even then, he was racing back to be with you.

The birth had scared him, his mind remembering the last birth, how you had laboured for hours knowing full well the babe was already dead.

But this time the babe was perfect, a healthy boy you named Rickon after his father.

You watched him grow and as the years passed more children followed, each and every one of them filling your life with more and more love.

You and Cregan grew inseparable, your duties becoming one as you both ruled Winterfell together.

And after fifteen years of marriage, and the birth of you first five children, Rickon, Saera and Alys, Rhaeya and Mariah, your brothers came to Winterfell on their tour of Westeros.

Aegon and Viserys both married with children of their own were more than happy to see you again, years of letters making up for little of how much you missed your brothers.

“Aegon, Viserys” you greeted as you they rode into Winterfell with the pride and fancy house Targaryen always brought.

“sister” they greeted, coming straight towards you, their boyish looks still in full effect despite being adults in their own right, “I have missed you”

“no more than I have missed you” you replied before introducing your family and household to your brothers.

Your sons and daughters presenting themselves proudly, with your daughter Saera pointing out the similarities between herself and her cousin Daena, they could practically be twins. In both looks and nature.

They caused many a problem during their time in Winterfell, with many pranks and havocked caused as they spent their days freeing horses or practicing with Sareas crossbow, shooting apples above servants heads.

Your eldest Rickon spent most of his time with Daeron, many time spent in the courtyard, sparring or exploring the dragon nest Silverwing had left upon her most recent return from Winterfell.

You watched as your children created bonds with their cousins, bonds that would stick even after the tour. Letters exchanged and your sons Jacearys and Lucerys being sent to ward in Kings Landing.

And whilst they were here your sons Jacearys and Lucerys eggs hatched, small dragons, the first dragons born in near ten years.

Jace’s dragon, a soft shade of white shade, easily blending into the snow. He had named the dragon sōna, the Valyrian word for snow. And though the history books would mark him to be as big as a small housecat, he in truth grew to be the size of a dire wolf, and though not big enough to take a rider on his back, he was known to fly the walls of Winterfell before his death, after falling victim to a stray arrow during one of house starks monthly hunts.

Lukes’s dragon had been named icefyre, he had claimed it was who he was, a merge of ice a fire and so was his dragon. With silver scales and a blue flame, similar to the blue flame of your uncle Daeron’s dragon Tesserion. He too grew to the size of a dire wolf, before accompany Luke south to Kingslanding, ending up on Dragonstone where she was killed by the now wild dragon, Sunfyre.

And though when the tour ended, after being extended moons, with neither side wanting to part from the other, the sadness and regret you felt before when leaving your brothers was no longer, as you where more than happy with the family you had in Winterfell. No longer did you dream of the ghosts of your family, wishing them alive, but now you saw them reborn as each of your children.

In Rickon you saw Jace, he was noble and kind, the perfect future lord. And you saw even more of Jace in him as he died fighting alongside his cousin Daeron, after he had been named king and set to conquer Dorne. Dying before his time, a hero’s death.

In Saera, you saw your mother, Rhaenyra. A fierce and defiant girl, egar and pride. She was smart and quick and though as time passed and you began to forget the faces of those you lost, however you looked at Sarea, you saw your mother.

In Alys you saw Joffrey, shy and kind but egar to prove herself. Going out of her way to prove her loyalty and her devotion to house Stark.

In Rhaeya, you saw your grandmother, Rhaneys. Though she was named in honour of bother her mother and grandmother, her grandmothers laugh, and smile shined through in your girl. She was always riding, though a horse not a dragon, she was a warrior in her own right, fighting in the conquest of Dorne, though she eventually chooses to sheath her sword after she found love in the son of Benjicot Blackwood.

Then there was Mariah, sweet Mariah reminded you of Rhaena, though alive and well with six daughters of her own, she reminded you in every way of your sister. With a fierce heart, hidden behind a sweet temperament.

Jace, who had become Jace one eye at the age of six and ten after an arrow pierced his eye during the conquest of Dorne, he reminded you of you uncle Aemond, before the cruelty took over him. He was determined and fierce, though hidden behind a shy demeaner.

Edric, was the very image of Daemon. Though Stark in looks he was the rouge of her stepfather, careless and wanton, so much so he died before all of his siblings after fighting and loosing a duel against the man who would later marry his sister Lyanna, Lynol Tyrell.

Lyanna, Was you. You looked at her and saw yourself, a girl born out of love, a girl desiring love more than anything in the world. A girl who would fight for what she believed in, no matter the cost.

Lucerys, of cause reminded you of Luke in every way he was your sweet younger brother. In looks and nature he was Luke reborn.

The Brandon, your youngest child, a big age gap, born near ten years after Luke. He seemed to be the image of your husband, fierce and wise, a good lord. Though often driven my lust.

Your legacy was fierce, your blood spread through Westeros as you were remembered in the page of history books for all to read.

“the dance of the dragons” Daenerys read, as she was gifted a book of the history of her family.

“not just the dance, Princess” spoke Ilyrio Mopatis. “this book tells the story of your Ancestor” he spoke your name, and printed out the portrait of you that covered the first page inside.

“A whole book dedicated to one ancestor?” Viserys scoffed, “what was she a conqueror?”

“in some ways” Ilyrio started, “she was a key player in the dance, without her diplomacy the war could have been much longer than it had been”

“Really?” Viserys asked sceptically.

“indeed, read for yourself My prince”

And so they read your tale, and you where once more brough back to life.

taglist

@aleemendoza2425-blog @apollonshootafar @zillahvathek @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @dark-night-sky-99 @deeeeexx @valyriantargaryenblood-blog @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunblogsblog @clobobo @raynetargaryen2 @justbelljust @sukunassfinger

@arminsstuff @now-i-have-a-new-obsession @eddieslut69 @materialgirl01 @bugmanor @annabellekenobi2005 @whos-too-b @mandowhatnow @aegonswife @littlebirdgot @delaynew @now-i-have-a-new-obsession @dorkysupernova @hawkins_2000 @materialgirl01 @beebeechaos @rosedurin @rebeccawinters @berightback1409 @barnes70stark @perla434 @nessjo @helo1281917 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @random-human02 @f1wh0recom @Aaliyah @spacexdrago @12thatsanumber @arieltwvdtohamflash @klutzylaena @sithapprentice @callsignwindow @alexxavicry

to be added to taglist for my other works

[ladyaryawolf]

... A bit late to that... but... We are really back to "Arya is ugly" discourse, arent we?

I really tried to see the original post, but it didnt appeared.

Eitherway, it is impressive for me how every few years, we always come back to the same discussions.

Regarding Arya being pretty... Well. There is nothing to say. She is pretty. Canonically speaking. Word by word. In the book.

Jon

Ned

Edric

Gendry

Lady Smallwood

The Kindly Man

Idk if The sailors of Braavos count

Vs

Sansa

Jeyne Poole

Septa Mordane

So if we go by that is literally a 6 x 3 if we don't count the sailors of Braavos. And I am pretty sure I am forgetting a few people since I havent read the series in ages.

Idk you guys, but it seems to have more people who finds her pretty than people who finds her ugly. Lets not forget that Sansa and Jeyne (but especially Sansa) is literally Arya's bully, so her opinion is quite... uk? Not very trustworthy. Very unreliable. Like most part of the things in her POV.

[horizon-verizon]

List of Non-Targ Westerosi In*cest Marriages

Tywin Lannister x Joanna Lannister (1st cousins)

-- Issue: Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion

Rickard Stark x Lyarra Stark (1st cousins)

-- Issue: Brandon, Eddard "Ned", Lyanna, Benjen

Cregan Stark x Lynara Stark (just says "distant cousins")

-- Issue: Jonnel, Edric, Lyanna, Barthogan, Brandon

Serena Stark x Edric Stark (uncle-niece)

-- Issue: Cregard, Torrhen, Arrana, Aregelle

Sansa Stark x Jonnel Stark (uncle-niece)

-- Issue: NONE

Paxter Redwyne x Mina Tyrell (1st cousins)

-- Issue: Horas, Hobber, Desmera

Samantha Tarly x Lyonel Hightower (previously step mother-stepson)

-- Issue: 6 unknown children, all illegitimately born before their marriage

POSSIBLE CLOSE RELATIONS (exact degrees unknown)

Jon Arryn x Rowena Arryn

-- Issue: NONE

Shella Whent x Walter Whent

-- Issue: 4 unknown sons & 1 unknown daughter

Benfrey Frey x Jyanna Frey

-- Issue: Della & Osmund

Alys Frey x Jared Frey

-- Issue: Tytos & Kyra

[lemoncakesandwine]

hello! Can I request for tourney, sfw, character/character? It would be Arya Stark and Edric Dayne (aged up a bit, if you're willing to do so!) and for the prompt: Vow and Shield (but if i have to choose only one then shield please!) Thank u!

New Acquaintance

Pairing: Arya Stark x Edric Dayne

Other Pairings: Arya Stark & Eddard Stark | Edric Dayne & Beric Dondarrion | Eddard Stark & Beric Dondarrion

Themes: AU-Cannon Divergence | First meetings

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 2.1K words

Summary: Arya Stark is introduced to Edric Dayne, the young Lord of Starfall and Squire to Lord Beric Dondarrion. They take the time to talk while Arya’s father, Lord Eddard, goes off with Lord Beric to speak privately on another matter and to look for Sansa, Arya’s sister.

This is also available on AO3

Arya walked with her father to the tourney grounds. Her sister, Sansa, was already there with Jeyne, and her father promised to watch the contests of the day with them. Arya, on the other hand, had desired to stay back at the Tower of the Hand. She claimed that she had another lesson with Syrio and that it had to take place at the appointed hour. In truth, she did have a lesson with Syrio, and in truth, Syrio would have kept that lesson for another day had her father asked him to. And he did, when her father approached him and explained the importance of her attending the tourney with him. Arya had no just excuse to give after that.

Still, she did not want to go. She did not see the point of it all. She could not put down her name and partake in the duels with Needle. She could not take to the archery field with a bow and arrow in hand. She could not wield a lance, even if she had been strong enough to carry one. She was a young woman, after all, and a high-born one at that. Those such as her only ever came to a tourney to watch, and nothing more.

Nevertheless, her father had insisted, and he had prevailed. Now, she was with him, dressed in a simply cut gown of grey velvet that made Septa Mordane smile in relief when she came upon her just before she left, and struggling to make her way around the many others who had come from far and wide to watch the tourney.

“Where are they, Father?” Arya asked, more than a little gratified that Prince Joffrey was not amongst the throng. Her hatred for him had only grown since that dreadful day by the Ruby Ford, and the last person she ever wanted to see or speak to was him.

“They may be talking with the other ladies from court,” her father said. He craned his neck over the heads of others to get a better view. “There are so many of them here today.”

“Lord Eddard!” Someone called from behind them. “A moment, if you will!”

Her father stopped and turned around. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “Beric Dondarrion!” He cried heartily and went forward to greet the one who drew their attention to him, a slight but handsome man with red-gold hair and a black woolen tunic adorned with a forked bolt of purple lighting that cut across from his left shoulder to his right side. It was surrounded by four-pointed stars picked out in white thread. “How fare you, my lord?”

“I am well, my Lord Hand,” Beric said. He bowed his head. “I have come to put my name down for the lists. And I have not come alone.” He raised a hand toward a young man a few paces away, and urged him to come forth. “May I present my squire, Lord Edric of House Dayne. He is to be anointed a knight soon.”

“My lord. My lady.” Edric Dayne bowed. His hair was so pale it was more ash than white. Against the mauve doublet and lilac silk cloak he wore, it almost looked like the silver-gold locks many of House Targaryen were once known for. At least, that was how it appeared to be to Arya. “I am pleased to meet you both.”

Arya watched as her father’s smile died. “Lord Dayne,” he began gravely. “Word of your father’s passing reached all of us at Winterfell. My family and I offer you our comfort and our service. Should you require anything from us, you need only say the word.”

“I thank you for your words, my lord,” Edric returned, his voice trembling with grief. “Did you know him?”

“Alas, I only knew of him. He was a great knight, I am told. Your uncle was even greater. It is a shame, truly, that he and I could not have met in kinder circumstances. You must know that I admire him greatly.”

“My thanks again, my lord,” Edric told him. “I have heard much of my uncle, and it is my hope to be as skilled as he was.”

“I am certain that you already are,” Arya’s father said. She perceived a change in him when he spoke of Ser Arthur Dayne, the fabled knight who aided his lord, Prince Rhaegar, in his abduction of her aunt, Lyanna. It was not one of anger or disgust, but of pain and sadness. “And I am certain that you will one day wield Dawn just as well as he did.” He gestured for her to step forward. “Now I would like to present my daughter, the Lady Arya Stark. Sweet one, this is Lord Edric of House Dayne, and this is Lord Beric of House Dondarrion. He and I fought side by side during the Greyjoy Rebellion.”

“My lords,” Arya said. She swiftly remembered her courtesies and managed a stiff little bow. “My comfort to you for your loss, Lord Dayne,” she added, straightening herself, “and my service, should you have need of it.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Edric answered. He smiled shyly. “Lord Beric has spoken to me of the Greyjoy Rebellion, Lord Stark. He spoke of your bravery as well, and how honorably you fought in the battles that followed.”

“Did he speak of his dear friend, Thoros of Myr, and how he was first through the breach in the walls of Pyke with that flaming sword of his?” Her father said. Arya listened intently, her curiosity aroused. Theon hardly spoke of what he witnessed, and her father only spoke of certain aspects of that particular war and not others. “What a sight that was.”

Beric laughed softly. “You will see that sight again, my lord. Thoros intends to fight it out during the melee.” He paused. “Perhaps we should let the two of them go ahead. There is another matter I wish to speak to you about.”

“Of course,” Arya’s father said. He turned to her. “Stay close to the crowds, Arya,” he counseled, “and do not wander off. Lord Dondarrion and I will find you after we are done, and I have found your sister.”

Arya bit her tongue only until her father was out of hearing. “Do not wander off, he says,” she grumbled and made a face. “I am far from a child, and yet he insists on thinking of me as a babe in swaddling cloth.”

“Your father thinks of your honor,” Edric came to her and whispered. “Lord Dondarrion says there are those at court who hold little love for him. It would be the work of a moment to weave a tale against you and soil your good name as well as his.”

Arya glared at him. “They would be lying,” she protested, her eyes spitting fire. “And why only tarnish my honor and not yours?”

“Because I am a lord, my lady,” Edric said, though not unkindly. “And you are an unwed maiden. There is a difference in such things here.”

Arya picked up her skirts and stomped toward the seats in a huff. Edric made haste to follow her. “It is not fair, I tell you,” she said with passion, ascending the steps leading to one of the viewing boxes set aside for nobles. “Why must it be one way for me, and another for you?”

“I do not know, my lady,” Edric said, shrugging. “I am from Dorne. Things are different there also.”

Arya wanted to know more. She had learned about Dorne from Maester Luwin, but here was someone who hailed from it. “Is Dorne that different?”

“Our lands are hot, harsh, and poor,” Edric admitted, “and our people are proud and fierce and always ready to fight.” He led Arya to a bench closest to the railing and sat down. “But you will like it, my lady. The Water Gardens, most of all. It is so beautiful. The air smells of blood oranges and water lilies. Prince Doran stays there, and his sons and daughter also. Children from all over come to play in the fountains and the pools. Prince Oberyn’s daughters come there too. He teaches them how to fight. They are already quite good.”

Arya’s eyes widened as she considered the possibilities. To learn swordplay from Syrio Forel was one thing, she told herself. To learn from the Red Viper himself was another matter entirely. But there was her father to consider, and her lady mother. They may never send her that far south, not until they receive a formal invitation and assurances of her safety, and not without a Septa to act as her companion and minder.

“My mother and father may never agree to send me to Dorne,” she confessed, “but I will speak to my father all the same.” She sat down beside him, secretly hoping her mother and father would agree to send her to Dorne, and that they would take on the services of a woman other than Septa Mordane. Arya could not bear the notion of her dogging her every step. “Why are you sitting with me? Why are you not putting your name for the jousts?”

“I am still a squire, my lady,” Edric said, “and I cannot compete until I have been anointed a knight. Besides, Lord Dondarrion would not agree to me putting down my name for the lists even if squires were allowed to compete.”

“Why?”

Edric pointed to a shield at the other end of the field. It was but one of the many affixed to poles that had been driven into the ground: the leafless Weirwood tree and black ravens of House Blackwood, the silver seahorse of House Velaryon, the crowned stag of House Baratheon, the rearing golden lion of House Lannister, the cluster of grapes for the Redwynes, the golden rose of the Tyrells, the grey direwolf of House Stark, and of course, the chilling white shields of the Kingsguard. Arya did not care for those, though the sigil of her own House gave her pause. She admired it for a moment, then fixed her gaze on the shield Edric showed to her. It had three dark dogs painted to look as if they were running across a vibrant patch of buttery yellow.

“Clegane,” she spat. “Sandor.”

“Not Sandor,” Edric corrected her. “The Mountain that Rides.”

He pointed again, this time toward one corner of the field. A coal-haired mountain of a man with a thick, coarse beard could be seen clutching the reins of an ill-tempered grey stallion and having words with a squire. Even from afar, Arya could tell that the poor boy was terrified. He would take a step back whenever the large man took a step toward him, as if he was preparing to flee at any given moment.

“He is jousting today," Edric went on, "and may the gods have mercy on any knight who dares to ride against him.”

Arya shivered. Tales of Gregor Clegane, the warrior who was called the Mountain that Rides, reached even Winterfell. All of it had been of the frightening kind.

“Knights will still ride against him today,” she remarked, studying him. “Do you know how to joust?”

“I do,” Edric said. “Lord Dondarrion has been teaching me. I even won a few prizes, riding at rings”

Arya sighed. “I wish I could wield a lance,” she said wistfully. “But my brother Jon said I am too skinny for a lance, and I am a girl. I think I could best you with a sword, though. Do you wield one?”

“I do, my lady,” Edric replied. He looked at her keenly. “Pray what sword do you carry?”

“A Bravo’s blade,” Arya said, flushing with excitement. After they left Winterfell, she had no one besides her father to speak with when it came to the sword that was gifted to her. “I named it Needle. Father hired a Bravo to teach me. Perhaps we could practice together.”

“Perhaps we could,” Edric agreed. His eyes glittered. “I will speak with Lord Dondarrion and with Lord Stark. If they agree, you and I can put our skills to the test.”

Arya peered at him suspiciously. “Are you hoping to make fun of me?”

“I vow, here and now, that it is not my intention to make fun of you,” Edric swore solemnly. “Once my lord and your father say yes, you need only set the day, and I shall meet you in fair contest. Perhaps I might learn a thing or two.”

“Perhaps I may learn a thing or two also,” Arya pondered aloud. She allowed herself to smile. “Speak to them, then. Then we shall see which one of us is better than the other.”

[themockingpoint]

salty ask list - 1, 3, 8, 10

1) What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?

Probably Robb x Theon

3) Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?

Absolutely

8) Have you received anon hate? What about?

Not shipping Jonsa. And a couple about Arya (can’t remember what one was about, but the other was bitching that I shipped Sansa and Edric Dayne instead of Arya and Edric Dayne)

10) Most disliked arc? Why?

The initial WOT5K is hard to watch due to the blatant rail roading to A) keep the Lannister’son top and the Starks on the bottom.

[joanna-lannister]

Ship ranking looks fun! I don't have as many as the other anon tho

Cersei x Jaime (i have to ask even if i know they're #1 obvi)

Ned x Cat

Sansa x Jon

Jon x Ygritte

Jon x Turmond

Arya x Gendry

Arya x Edric

Bran x Meera

It is indeed fun! Thank you so much bestie, let's go! ❤️

Cersei x Jaime (as you said they are #1 obviously 😂)

Sansa x Jon

Arya x Gendry

Ned x Cat

Jon x Ygritte

Jon x Tormund

Bran x Meera

Arya x Edric

[sohereweare1]

What to update?

Ok everyone... I have some free time tomorrow, so something will get an update... I don’t know what to work on. Update can be a WIP or a new One-Shot idea.... IDK!  So, if anyone has a preference, go ahead and inbox me. My asks have the Anon option open so you can do it anonymously if you want. Thanks! 

[madaboutasoiaf]

hey mate! Shadowcat here, sorry for the radio silence. hope you had a great birthday!! speaking of which, how do you think Sansa and Edric would celebrate each other's birthdays?

Hello Shadowcat, nice to hear from you! My birthday was fine. I just had a quiet one which is exactly what I wanted this year.

I took some time to think about this because I would have no idea how they would celebrate each other’s birthdays in canon Westeros (which is my default for fic and most of my thinking about ASOIAF) This time I’ll modern AU it.

Ned takes Sansa on a picnic for hers, somewhere pretty with flowers. I did read a baseball AU a while back that I liked and I could see Sansa sitting through a baseball game for Ned’s birthday. Afterwards she makes him taste-test lemoncakes until they find the best one for his birthday cake.

[blissfulphilospher]

I posted the AI pictures of Jonnel and Sansa on Ao3 fic but it has seemed to be vanished in air. So here they are. 

Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell 

The one who was her father's heir and should have been the first reigning Lady Stark of Winterfell, Warden of North but instead has to become the consort of her half uncle. 

I am damn sure other Sansa, our Sansa would become the first reigning Lady Stark of Winterfell. 

Lord Jonnel 'One Eye' Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of North

He became his brothers heir. Just like Robb made Jon his heir passing over Sansa and Arya. And he married his half neice... Weren't First Men against incest? His actions gives Daemon Targaryen vibes... 

[sansagiggled]

Close The Distance Before My Eyes 

 Chapter 3 Plan B? 

 by @sohereweare1

[asoiafrarepairs]

Prompt: Edric Dayne is fostered at Winterfell. He and Sansa fall in love.

Added to our prompt page!