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istumpysk · 1 year ago

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OPERATION ICEBERG: THE TIER LIST

THEORY:

Tormund Giantsbane x Maege Mormont

TIER:

People's Choice! Great job on Lemongate, I feel more at ease putting my faith in you again.

Possible: These theories could be true, but additional evidence is needed, as different interpretations or errors are possible.

vs.

Under Consideration: These theories haven't garnered strong or extensive evidence, but they're worthy of discussion.

vs.

50/50: These theories are complete toss-ups.

vs.

Low Probability: While not impossible, these theories are unlikely based on the current evidence.

[Tier list overview]

EVIDENCE:

Gather 'round, children. This is a fun one.

The theory:

The Tormund Giantsbane x Maege Mormont theory suggests that they may have had one or several intimate encounters, and Tormund could potentially be the father of one or more of Maege Mormont's daughters.

The proof:

In A Storm of Swords, the character Tormund Giantsbane is introduced, and we learn his various titles, one of which is "Husband to Bears."

Mance Rayder laughed. "As you wish. Jon Snow, before you stands Tormund Giantsbane, Tall-talker, Horn-blower, and Breaker of Ice. And here also Tormund Thunderfist, Husband to Bears, the Mead-king of Ruddy Hall, Speaker to Gods and Father of Hosts." - Jon I, ASOS

The sigil of House Mormont is a black bear. Members of the Mormont family, who hail from Bear Island, are frequently referred to as bears within the story.

The Mormonts of Bear Island were an old house, proud and honorable, but their lands were cold and distant and poor. - Eddard II, AGOT

The maester had taught him all the banners: the mailed fist of the Glovers, silver on scarlet; Lady Mormont's black bear; the hideous flayed man that went before Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort; a bull moose for the Hornwoods; a battle-axe for the Cerwyns; three sentinel trees for the Tallharts; and the fearsome sigil of House Umber, a roaring giant in shattered chains. - Bran VI, AGOT

"I am touched by your concern, Lord Mormont." The strong drink was making Tyrion light-headed, but not so drunk that he did not realize that the Old Bear wanted something from him. - Tyrion III, AGOT

Catelyn smiled despite herself. "You are braver than I am, I fear. Are all your Bear Island women such warriors?" "She-bears, aye," said Lady Maege. - Catelyn V, ASOS

"He wants you," said the She-Bear, after his third visit. Her proper name was Alysane of House Mormont, but she wore the other name as easily as she wore her mail. - The King's Prize, ADWD

Ser Jorah had been with her then, her gruff old bear. - Daenerys X, ADWD

Maege Mormont, the head of House Mormont, has five daughters: Dacey (now deceased), Alysane, Lyra, Jorelle, and Lyanna.

No one knows the father of Maege's children or if she married. Yet, all her daughters bear (ha!) the Mormont surname, and none appear to be considered bastards.

The tale that's commonly told is that Lady Maege took a bear as her lover, and this bear is the father of her children.

Maege Mormont is called Mormont because no one knows her husband's name, or even if she has one. - So Spake Martin

"Aye, Dywen says. And the last time he went ranging, he says he saw a bear fifteen feet tall." Mormont snorted. "My sister is said to have taken a bear for her lover. I'd believe that before I'd believe one fifteen feet tall. Though in a world where dead come walking . . . ah, even so, a man must believe his eyes. I have seen the dead walk. I've not seen any giant bears." - Jon I, ACOK

"Whoever the king names will not have an easy time stepping into your armor, I can tell. Lord Mormont faces the same problem." Lord Janos looked puzzled. "I thought she was a lady. Mormont. Beds down with bears, that's the one?" - Tyrion II, ACOK

"No. My children were fathered by a bear." Alysane smiled. Her teeth were crooked, but there was something ingratiating about that smile. "Mormont women are skinchangers. We turn into bears and find mates in the woods. Everyone knows." - The King's Prize, ADWD

Tormund is no bear, but you might say he's built like one.

Beside the brazier, a short but immensely broad man sat on a stool, eating a hen off a skewer. Hot grease was running down his chin and into his snow-white beard, but he smiled happily all the same. Thick gold bands graven with runes bound his massive arms, and he wore a heavy shirt of black ringmail that could only have come from a dead ranger. - Jon I, ASOS

But as the distance between them diminished Jon saw that the horseman was short and broad, with gold rings glinting on thick arms and a white beard spreading out across his massive chest. - Jon X, ASOS

He was not a tall man, Tormund Giantsbane, but the gods had given him a broad chest and massive belly. - Jon XI, ADWD

In the culture of the free folk, men often "steal" women for marriage, demonstrating their strength.

We look up at the same stars, and see such different things. The King's Crown was the Cradle, to hear her tell it; the Stallion was the Horned Lord; the red wanderer that septons preached was sacred to their Smith up here was called the Thief. And when the Thief was in the Moonmaid, that was a propitious time for a man to steal a woman, Ygritte insisted. "Like the night you stole me. The Thief was bright that night." - Jon III, ASOS

"He's of my village. You know nothing, Jon Snow. A true man steals a woman from afar, t' strengthen the clan. Women who bed brothers or fathers or clan kin offend the gods, and are cursed with weak and sickly children. Even monsters." - Jon III, ASOS

"Harma and the Bag of Bones don't come raiding for fish and apples. They steal swords and axes. Spices, silks, and furs. They grab every coin and ring and jeweled cup they can find, casks of wine in summer and casks of beef in winter, and they take women in any season and carry them off beyond the Wall." - Jon V, ASOS

Bear Island is a secluded island in the north, situated in the Bay of Ice. Due to frequent raids by the free folk and the ironborn, Mormont women have become fierce warriors to prevent being carried off.

Catelyn smiled despite herself. "You are braver than I am, I fear. Are all your Bear Island women such warriors?" "She-bears, aye," said Lady Maege. "We have needed to be. In olden days the ironmen would come raiding in their longboats, or wildlings from the Frozen Shore. The men would be off fishing, like as not. The wives they left behind had to defend themselves and their children, or else be carried off." - Catelyn V, ASOS

(map!)

Now, for the crucial evidence.

In A Storm of Swords, Jon asks Tormund about his titles. Out of all Tormund's designations, the author chooses to delve into the backstory of "Husband of Bears."

We'll dissect this story step by step. However, please remember that Tormund is known for exaggerations and fabrications. Distinguishing fact from fiction and extracting the elements of truth can be tricky.

"Are all crows so curious?" asked Tormund. "Well, here's a tale for you. It were another winter, colder even than the one I spent inside that giant, and snowing day and night, snowflakes as big as your head, not these little things. It snowed so hard the whole village was half buried. I was in me Ruddy Hall, with only a cask o' mead to keep me company and nothing to do but drink it. The more I drank the more I got to thinking about this woman lived close by, a fine strong woman with the biggest pair of teats you ever saw. She had a temper on her, that one, but oh, she could be warm too, and in the deep of winter a man needs his warmth. "The more I drank the more I thought about her, and the more I thought the harder me member got, till I couldn't suffer it no more. Fool that I was, I bundled meself up in furs from head to heels, wrapped a winding wool around me face, and set off to find her. The snow was coming down so hard I got turned around once or twice, and the wind blew right through me and froze me bones, but finally I come on her, all bundled up like I was. "The woman had a terrible temper, and she put up quite the fight when I laid hands on her. It was all I could do to carry her home and get her out o' them furs, but when I did, oh, she was hotter even than I remembered, and we had a fine old time, and then I went to sleep. Next morning when I woke the snow had stopped and the sun was shining, but I was in no fit state to enjoy it. All ripped and torn I was, and half me member bit right off, and there on me floor was a she-bear's pelt. And soon enough the free folk were telling tales o' this bald bear seen in the woods, with the queerest pair o' cubs behind her. Har!" He slapped a meaty thigh. "Would that I could find her again. She was fine to lay with, that bear. Never was a woman gave me such a fight, nor such strong sons neither." - Jon II, ASOS

I was in me Ruddy Hall, with only a cask o' mead to keep me company and nothing to do but drink it.

Tormund is first introduced as Mead-king of Ruddy Hall. Ruddy Hall is beyond the Wall, but we don't know where.

The more I drank the more I got to thinking about this woman lived close by

Regardless of where Ruddy Hall is located beyond the Wall, it wouldn't be near Maege Mormont.

a fine strong woman with the biggest pair of teats you ever saw.

Maege Mormont is short and stout, and likely has large breasts like her daughter Alysane.

The daughter was tall and lean, the mother short and stout, but they dressed alike in mail and leather, with the black bear of House Mormont on shield and surcoat. - Catelyn V, ASOS

She had a temper on her, that one, but oh, she could be warm too, and in the deep of winter a man needs his warmth.

Maege Mormont has a temper,

The Old Bear sighed. "You are not the only one touched by this war. Like as not, my sister is marching in your brother's host, her and those daughters of hers, dressed in men's mail. Maege is a hoary old snark, stubborn, short-tempered, and willful. Truth be told, I can hardly stand to be around the wretched woman, but that does not mean my love for her is any less than the love you bear your half sisters." - Jon IX, AGOT

but she can also be warm.

Lady Mormont took her hand and said, "My lady, if Cersei Lannister held two of my daughters, I would have done the same." - Catelyn II, ASOS

Catelyn had grown fond of Lady Maege and her eldest daughter, Dacey; they were more understanding than most in the matter of Jaime Lannister, she had found. - Catelyn V, ASOS

Fool that I was, I bundled meself up in furs from head to heels, wrapped a winding wool around me face, and set off to find her. The snow was coming down so hard I got turned around once or twice, and the wind blew right through me and froze me bones, but finally I come on her, all bundled up like I was.

If he started at Ruddy Hall, Tormund would have needed a boat to reach Maege Mormont. He couldn't have walked.

Edit: D'oh. Thank you to @transdimensional-void and @grennseyelashes for pointing out the Bay of Ice could freeze over.

The woman had a terrible temper, and she put up quite the fight when I laid hands on her.

Maege Mormont is a fierce warrior.

Catelyn smiled despite herself. "You are braver than I am, I fear. Are all your Bear Island women such warriors?" "She-bears, aye," said Lady Maege. "We have needed to be. [...]" - Catelyn V, ASOS

The daughter was tall and lean, the mother short and stout, but they dressed alike in mail and leather, with the black bear of House Mormont on shield and surcoat. By Catelyn's lights, that was queer garb for a lady, yet Dacey and Lady Maege seemed more comfortable, both as warriors and as women, than ever the girl from Tarth had been. - Catelyn V, ASOS

It was all I could do to carry her home and get her out o' them furs, but when I did, oh, she was hotter even than I remembered, and we had a fine old time, and then I went to sleep.

Again, he couldn't have taken her home without a boat.

Edit: D'oh. Thank you to @transdimensional-void and @grennseyelashes for pointing out the Bay of Ice could freeze over.

All ripped and torn I was, and half me member bit right off, and there on me floor was a she-bear's pelt.

She-bear has only ever been used to describe women associated with House Mormont.

Catelyn smiled despite herself. "You are braver than I am, I fear. Are all your Bear Island women such warriors?" "She-bears, aye," said Lady Maege. - Catelyn V, ASOS

Ser Jorah sat up in his hammock. "Befriend her, then. Marry her, for all I care." That left a bad taste in his mouth as well. "Like with like, is that your notion? Do you mean to find a she-bear for yourself, ser?" - Tyrion VIII, ASOS

Alysane Mormont, whose men name her the She-Bear, hid fighters inside a gaggle of fishing sloops and took the ironmen unawares where they lay off the strand. - Jon VII, ADWD

And soon enough the free folk were telling tales o' this bald bear seen in the woods

This is a bit goofy, but a She-Bear leaving behind her pelt and wandering around bald is somewhat reminiscent of Alysane Mormont's tale about Mormont women being skinchangers.

"Mormont women are skinchangers. We turn into bears and find mates in the woods. Everyone knows." - The King's Prize, ADWD

with the queerest pair o' cubs behind her. Would that I could find her again. She was fine to lay with, that bear.

Tormund seems to be suggesting that this was a one-time affair, yet he also mentions that it resulted in a pair of children. Tricky.

Lady Mormont has five children with significant age gaps. If he's their father, it would require multiple visits over several decades. If 'cub' shouldn't be plural and he's only the father of one daughter, then which one might it be?

Probably not Dacey Mormont. She was six-foot-tall, pretty, lanky, willowy, and graceful — nothing like Tormund.

The most probable candidate is Alysane Mormont. She shares a build with Tormund (and Maege), is now the heir to Bear Island, and is the most prominently featured Mormont daughter in the story.

Short, chunky, muscular, the heir to Bear Island had big thighs, big breasts, and big hands ridged with callus. - The King's Prize, ADWD

Never was a woman gave me such a fight, nor such strong sons neither.

Sons, plural. After potentially just one encounter. That's a problem.

He might simply be referring to two of his four sons: Toregg, Torwynd, Dryn, and Dormund. Their mother's identity remains unknown.

However, while Maege Mormont has no sons, she does have five daughters with impressively strong characters who comfortably take on traditionally masculine roles.

Stout, grey-haired Maege Mormont, dressed in mail like a man, told Robb bluntly that he was young enough to be her grandson, and had no business giving her commands … but as it happened, she had a granddaughter she would be willing to have him marry. - Bran VI, AGOT

Like as not, my sister is marching in your brother's host, her and those daughters of hers, dressed in men's mail. - Jon IX, AGOT

One of his companions was even a woman: Dacey Mormont, Lady Maege's eldest daughter and heir to Bear Island, a lanky six-footer who had been given a morningstar at an age when most girls were given dolls. Some of the other lords muttered about that, but Catelyn would not listen to their complaints. - Catelyn X, AGOT

"I have fought beside the Young Wolf in every battle," Dacey Mormont said cheerfully. "He has not lost one yet." - Catelyn V, ASOS

Smalljon Umber and Robin Flint sat near Robb, to the other side of Fair Walda and Alyx, respectively. Neither of them was drinking; along with Patrek Mallister and Dacey Mormont, they were her son's guards this evening. - Catelyn VII, ASOS

Her proper name was Alysane of House Mormont, but she wore the other name as easily as she wore her mail. Short, chunky, muscular, the heir to Bear Island had big thighs, big breasts, and big hands ridged with callus. Even in sleep she wore ringmail under her furs, boiled leather under that, and an old sheepskin under the leather, turned inside out for warmth. All those layers made her look almost as wide as she was tall. And ferocious. Sometimes it was hard for Asha Greyjoy to remember that she and the She-Bear were almost of an age. - The King's Prize, ADWD

Stannis read from the letter. "Bear Island knows no king but the King in the North, whose name is STARK. A girl of ten, you say, and she presumes to scold her lawful king." - Jon I, ADWD

But again, there are age gaps between all of them, and this would necessitate multiple trips to Bear Island.

Other things to consider:

It's possible that Tormund's She-Bear is actually Alysane Mormont, who has a son and a daughter and also asserts that their father is a bear. However, considering Alysane's age (mid-twenties), it seems more plausible that the She-Bear is Maege.

Some people believe the title "Breaker of Ice" might allude to the Bay of Ice, but that's a stretch.

Tormund has five other children, and he seems to be actively involved in their lives.

Alysane Mormont is currently headed to Castle Black, so there might be more clues ahead.

STUMPY'S THOUGHTS:

Maege Mormont being carried off by Tormund, only to rise in the middle of the night and take herself back home, is one of the more amusing tales I can think of. I mean, if you ignore the rape part.

Truly, I don't even know what tier to put this in. There are so many issues with that story, but given Tormund's nature, it's hard to discern what's real from what's not.

VOTE:

I welcome discussions. Feel free to reblog, respond, or challenge my perspective—I won't be offended by any of it.

Please note, if "no" is the eventual winner, or if it's competitive, a second poll will be conducted to determine the proper location.

NEXT THEORY:

Theon's bastard

[Main menu]

#operation iceberg #asoiaf theory tier list #theory 14 #tormund giantsbane x maege mormont

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goodqueenaly · 3 years ago

Note

How do you think Dany and Tyrion's first meeting will go and who should be POV for it?

I do think the meeting will probably come from Tyrion's point of view. Up until now, the author has, probably intentionally, avoided any sort of direct, real-time outsider POV on Daenerys: Barristan has been with her since the end of ACOK, but he was only given his POV after she left Meereen on Drogon, and while Quentyn was in Meereen at the same time as Daenerys and interacted with her, we as readers were not in his head while he was actually interacting with her. (I'll put aside for the moment my frustrated desire to have an Irri or Jhiqui POV.) It's probably impossible to continue this going forward, however - the more focused on the endgame of the Others the story becomes, the more POVs are going to cluster around a limited, specific number of places and events, meaning the author can't isolate Daenerys away from the center of the action - and so I think the author instead will want to choose carefully how to break that ongoing trend.

Tyrion then becomes, perhaps, the ideal vehicle for doing so. For one, this is not only the author's favorite POV character, but also one that he (usually) seems to have a really fun time writing - someone who is quick and witty, who can spout historical facts and bon mots with ease. Daenerys is no slouch in terms of intelligence or quick thinking, of course, so Tyrion may present a good match for her, someone who can think on his feet and come up with clever, funny arguments against whatever Daenerys throws at him. Likewise, Tyrion is neither a political naïf nor dedicated to Daenerys out of some personal ideal (the way, say, Barristan is in his firm belief in his role as a Kingsguard to the rightful monarch, or Jorah in his utterly creepy obsession with her). Tyrion is at the moment switching sides during the battle because "[w]e are on the losing side" and, to quote Jorah, "[w]e do not want to be fighting for the slavers when Daenerys returns"; allegiance to Daenerys is a matter of practical survival for Tyrion. As a consequence, Tyrion can approach Daenerys with the sort of frankness that neither Quentyn (who was specifically charged with winning her over in marriage) nor Barristan (who, again, genuinely believes that his duty is to loyally serve Daenerys as the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms) could have had with her. For the moment, Tyrion, with a renewed interest in living (and taking back what is his), may only see Daenerys as a means to an end, and not be overawed by a woman with an objectively pretty impressive résumé.

In terms of what it'll be like ... well, as I've said before I think Tyrion will realize that Daenerys has no inherent familial reason to like him. This is the son of the man who oversaw the murders of her brother's wife and their children, the brother of the man who actually killed her father, the scion of one of the key traitorous families that had helped that no-good-very-bad Usurper take the throne from her own family. I think Tyrion will take pretty quick stock of what he has to offer Daenerys: his intelligence, his knowledge of Westerosi politics (or at least the state he left them in), his experience of ruling the Iron Throne's government as Hand and organizing a key military victory, his education in dragonlore, and his probable realization that our Aegon is not who he says he is. I think he'll then try to turn what Daenerys might see as her advantages into what he might argue are weaknesses - which, of course, with his help she could turn to advantages. You have dragons, he might say, but you only control the one, and maybe not even that one totally; I know dragonlore, I know what to do to make the dragons fight for you. You have troops, but you've never taken King's Landing; I defended King's Landing from an outside assault, so I can help you do the reverse. You have advisors, but no Westerosi with experience in the central government (since I'm pretty sure Barristan will be dead by this point); I ran the government, I know how to be an effective Hand. You claim the crown as the last Targaryen, but there is a young man who says he has an even better claim marching at the head of the Golden Company right now; I know that he is a fake, I can help you dismantle his propaganda. I'm not saying these are all the arguments he would give, but I think the general jist will be Tyrion successfully convincing Daenerys that he is more use to her as a living advisor than a head on a pike.

#asoiaf meta #speculation #daenerys targaryen #tyrion lannister

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northern-passage · 4 years ago

Note

m!Lea and m!hunter for "dance with me"? 👀👀

You hate these things.

Formal events are not your scene.

Whoever had this brilliant idea of sending you and Lea – you’re going to give them a piece of your mind when you get back to the Black Iron. It was probably Jorah.

Damn you, old man.

Lea stands next to you, doing all the talking, shaking hands, introducing you to the hundredth random rich fool of the night. You go through the motions, nodding, smiling, but not too big or else you’ll scare them. And you can’t shake any hands. They won’t touch you.

It’s agonizing.

Lea plays the part, though, never slipping. He knows all the right names; he says all the right things. (It would be impressive if it wasn’t so utterly useless to you.)

Hours pass, or maybe just a few minutes. Who knows. But things finally seem to calm down, people bored with the novelty of you, moving on to others with far better connections and far more money than a sad lowly hunter and his handler.

At least they like Lea here, and play nice. Northerners always get excited when a Chen comes to town.

“Hey.”

Lea’s voice clears the fog in your mind.

“Want to step outside?” he asks.

You just nod, letting him lead you away from the oppressive crowd, the blinding glamor, the needless opulence. Stepping through massive double doors, the cold winter air greets you like an old friend. It burns your nose, bites your bare fingers, makes your eyes water. Lea closes the doors behind you, and you find yourself on a small balcony, a few scattered chairs off to the side, but otherwise empty. You wander over to the far railing, leaning heavily against it, peering down at the city below.

Blackwater is alive tonight, the celebrations in full swing for the grandson of the city’s warden, Lady Redwine. Traditions far beyond you.

Lea steps up beside you, bracing his hands against the railing, dropping his head as he lets out a long sigh.

“Shit is rough,” he mumbles, not moving. Glancing over at him, you can see some of his hair fall loose from its up do. He exchanged his usual plain bun for far more intricate braids, though a few are slowly beginning to unravel.

His dark hair turns blue in the moonlight, hiding his face from you.

You quickly look away as he straightens up, dropping his hands back to his sides.

“You seemed to fit in just fine to me,” you say with a shrug, looking away beyond the city, towards the cliffs.

You don’t have to look at him to know he’s glaring at you.

“I’m not like those people.”

You scoff, turning back to him. “Whatever you say, Ser Chen,” you sneer the title they had used for him.

He purses his lips, crossing his arms and looking away from you.

A tense silence passes, before music suddenly begins to play, sounding from inside, carrying out onto the balcony through the windows and drifting through the night.

You glance back to the doors you had passed through, just able to see through the small windows there, and can see people gathering together, preparing to dance. Pushing off the railing, you turn around, leaning back now, crossing your arms and watching the people move together.

You’ve never danced before. At least, not for real. Not like this. You can’t deny your curiosity, and the movements are elegant. Mesmerizing. Without even realizing it, you find yourself swaying in place, unintentionally trying to move with the dancers from your improbable position. Watching from the outside, as always.

Lea notices.

You catch his eye watching you, and you start to snap at him, not wanting to give him the chance to make some smart-ass comment, but he cuts you off.

“Do you want to dance?”

He asks so softly you’re not sure you heard him right. “What?”

Lea takes a step back from you, and holds out his hand. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, his features a bit stiff.

“Do you want to dance with me?” he asks again.

You clench your jaw, unable to fight the heat that crawls across your skin.

“Are you making fun of me?” you snap, getting defensive.

“What – no!” Lea says, dropping his hand, blinking a few times. He rubs the back of his neck, sighing. He looks at you, unguarded now, his dark eyes soft. “Just. Dance with me?”

He takes a stuttering step towards you.

You don’t move away.

Lea offers you his hand again, and slowly, carefully, like a scared animal, you take it.

He gives you a nervous smile. Nervous, but warm. You swallow thickly, suddenly aware that your hands are sweaty, and oh yeah, you don’t fucking know how to dance.

“I... I don’t know how to do this,” you say, not looking at him.

“I can lead. Just watch my feet, to start,” he says.

No problem. You’re not sure you could look into his face right now, even if you wanted to. You’re close enough to feel the heat from his body, his hand warm in yours, his breath whispering across your skin. Focus. His hand gives yours a reassuring squeeze as he takes the first step.

You follow.

Lea’s other hand hovers over your waist, while you struggle through the first few steps. He goes slow, patient, a word you never thought you would use to describe Lea. Eventually, a new song starts, but Lea continues through the same motions, and you focus on nothing else but not stomping on his feet. You still do, quite a few times, but Lea doesn’t react, except to squeeze your hand, encouraging you to keep going.

Before you know it, you’re moving faster, more fluid, Lea still leading. You’re aware that the music has long since stopped. But neither of you mention that.

Finally, you make it all the way through without tripping, or misstepping, or crushing Lea’s poor toes.

You can’t help the smile, the triumph. You look up at Lea, grinning like a fool. He smiles, too, looking at you… looking at you.

You drop his hand, quickly stepping back, clearing your throat.

Lea turns to the doors, putting his hands on his hips. No music, but you can still hear the idle chatter coming from inside.

“We should get back to it,” Lea says then. He still doesn’t look at you.

“Yeah.”

You both walk back through the doors, returning to the celebrations without another word.

#anon thank you i was hoping i would get this prompt with lea #lea chen #ask #anonymous #snippets

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luverofralts · 3 years ago

Text

Post Arkhelios

Abe bought three pregnancy tests just to be safe. One positive test could be a fluke. Two positive tests could just be a false positive and a fluke. But three?

Abe looked at the third positive pregnancy test and tried not to scream. This was not happening to him. This was a terrible dream and nothing more.

He curled up in his room, trying to sort through his options. Maybe a fourth pregnancy test?

That week his mom had ordered new furniture for his previously very creepy room, and then returned to her same distant style of parenting. Her work was no longer her hideaway from her terrible marriage, but was again the passion of her life. Lucy and Oriana were as thick as thieves, and together sought to pack as much fun into their lives as they possibly could. Nathan and Nickolas were bonding over telling each other scary stories about the noises they heard in the basement. So Abe had a lot of time alone, for which he was suddenly very grateful.

He couldn’t tell his mom about the pregnancy tests, that was absolutely certain. Lucy or Oriana would just tell his mom. Ironman assured him that betraying a promise to secrecy was against his programming, but Abe didn’t really know how far he could trust the servo who was in love with Oriana. He had to tell Roman somehow. Roman would know what to do, and would rush home from Pleasantview to be by his side, Abe was sure of it. Without the Bellamys paying for Roman’s phone, and the lack of modern technology at the boarding school, how would he talk to Roman though? He couldn’t ask Wanda to summon Roman again. Not without walking into the Bellamy house and declaring that he was carrying their newest great-grandchild anyway.

Oh god, he really was carrying their great-grandchild. A positive test wasn’t just a result, it meant a baby, and a crib and diapers....

Abe decided that his best option was Ulyssa. She had a phone, and had access to Roman at school. She was his best chance of speaking to Roman without accidentally letting half of Arkhelios know his secret.

Jorah came to the door and sighed.

“Hi Abe, I just have to pick up the garbage again quick. Every time I fix it, someone comes around to kick it over again. It’s been happening a lot since...you know...my mom and your dad left.”

A cockroach ran by Abe’s feet and he shuddered.

“Yeah, us too,” he said. “We’re not exactly popular, especially since my mom basically declared war on Salem Bellamy.”

And you’re having his grandson’s baby. How will Mom react to that news?

“What brings you over here?” Jorah asked. “Hopefully nothing to do with my mom?” Abe shook his head.

“No nothing about our parents,” he said. “I need you to ask Ulyssa to get Roman to call me. It’s something important, and I need to talk to him as soon as possible.”

Abe’s stomach made a terrible noise, and he hoped he could remember where the Durant’s bathroom was in time.

“Please call her, I’ll be right back! I hope!”

It still terrified Jorah to see his sister arrive out of nowhere, engulfed in magical light.

“Warn me next time!” he shouted. “How are you even doing that?”

“You’re the one who texted me that Abe was having an emergency and to come quick,” she retorted. “You do remember that we have a string of unsolved murders in Arkhelios, right? What was I supposed to think when you said emergency? Where is Abe anyway?”

The siblings found Abe in their main washroom in a terrible state. He clearly hadn’t made it to the toilet in time, and that was a sight the Durants couldn’t ever unsee.

“I’m so sorry,” Abe apologized, standing to greet them, but then doubling over again near the filthy toilet. “I can’t seem to keep anything down. I had plain toast and a banana this morning, but even that is bothering me.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Ulyssa had a pretty good guess of where this conversation was going given all the vomiting, the need to see Roman, and the small bump he was trying to hide under two layers of clothes. “Why do you need to see Roman? What did he do to you?”

Abe flushed with embarrassment.

“I’m pretty sure this is something we did together,” he replied, resting his head against the bathroom wall. “and I’m sure you can probably guess why I need to see him.” He closed his eyes to try to fight the overwhelming nausea. “I’m sorry about your bathroom.”

When he was able to stand again, the Durants moved Abe into Ulyssa’s room and locked the door. They were really hoping no one needed to use the main bathroom before they could get back there to clean it.

“What are you going to do?” Ulyssa whispered. Everyone was in the main living room at the moment, but this was something that she couldn’t risk her parents overhearing. “When did this even happen? We’ve been back at school for awhile.”

Abe sighed.

“He used magic to teleport here. I was really missing him, and then he was just here in front of me, and one thing lead to another....” He trailed off, hoping not to have to explain further.

Ulyssa let a laugh slip out before she could stop it.

“I’m sorry Roman used magic and teleported here? Do you know how hard even a basic teleportation spell is, let alone a spell here? Roman did this?”

Abe shot her a dirty look. He wasn’t just going to out Wanda like that. He gestured to his stomach theatrically.

“Obviously he got here somehow,” he snapped. “Anyway, I’d much rather be talking to him about this. Can you teleport him here? Or teleport me to him? Whatever is faster.”

Ulyssa shook her head.

“No, I can basically just teleport myself. I can’t imagine working out the spell needed to teleport someone pregnant that far away. It would be a disaster.”

“So just teleport back and get Roman to come here,” Jorah suggested.

Ulyssa shook her head a second time.

“I don’t know where he is,” she admitted. “We have internship placements this semester, and I got assigned to Pleasantview. I haven’t seen him around campus and I don’t know where he was assigned.”

Abe was suddenly looking green again, and the Durants braced themselves for the worst.

“There’s another bathroom down the hall!” Jorah called out as Abe took off again.

Abe made less of a mess in the second bathroom, so they moved their meeting into there.

“I brought Lauren,” Jorah said helpfully. “In case you wanted to practice holding a baby.”

Ulyssa shot her brother a withering glare when Abe’s reaction to actually picturing himself having a baby made him more nauseous.

“Idiot,” she murmured. “Look, I’ll go back to school and look up Roman’s posting. Then he can come here and you two can work this thing out.” She smacked Jorah’s shoulder. “Get Lauren out of here.”

“Thanks for everything. I don’t know how I would have gotten to Roman without you guys,” Abe said. “Please don’t tell anyone about this. I think my mom will actually kill me if she finds out.”

“Probably Salem too, when you think about it.”

“Jorah!”

So Abe snuck back home and decided to risk using the hot tub to relieve his back pain and maybe settle his stomach a bit. Seeing that the hot tub was in use, Lucy came bounding up the stairs and jumped in with him.

“There you are! Where have you been all this time?”

Abe sank lower in the bubbles, hoping to hide his stomach.

“Places. None of your business.”

The two fell into silence, and Abe finally felt calm for the first time in awhile. Roman would come soon and help him. He could keep this secret for a little bit longer.

Suddenly Abe felt the now very familiar churning in his stomach, and bolted from the hot tub and down the hall to his bathroom.

“Abe??” Lucy grabbed a towel and ran after her brother. “What’s wrong are you still feeling sick?”

Stomach now fully visible, and his last pregnancy test on the floor, Abe slumped next to the toilet and waited for his nausea to pass. Lucy’s brain was connecting the pieces of evidence before her, and coming to a conclusion she couldn’t believe could be true.

“What have you gotten yourself into Abe??”

(Abe also has food poisoning really bad at the moment, so he barely can start an action without running to the toilet)

#sims 2 #ts2 #arkhelios #post arkhelios #abe chun #sims 2 pictures #ts2 pictures

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c-sand · 5 years ago

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one of my favorite scenes from season eight (in a sea of not so great stuff) is this visual display of who holds truly holds the power with the people. sansa isn’t the evil power hungry monster people want to say that she is, but the room is hers nonetheless.

missandei, jorah, and varys rise with daenerys. missandei and jorah obviously do so because they are hers, completely. however, my favorite part of the three of them honoring her position is that varys shoots to his feet, first. because, he’s already clocked that he made the wrong choice and the name of the game is survival -- at least for now, while he observes his other options. but, despite their honoring of her position -- the majority of the rest of the room honors sansa’s.

the north, the vale -- they remain seated in the margin of time, before sansa stands to her feet. but, the second that she moves, the northern soldiers stand to attention. brienne, alys karstark, yohn royce, and lyanna mormont defer to sansa. not even jaime (who holds no allegiance to her or her family) moves before she does. lyanna and alys being a key figures in that, i believe.

lyanna, who was staunchly a king!jon supporter, before his complete disrespect of throwing away the title and trust they gave him (no matter his totally not pol!jon reasoning's totally not, that’d be crazy), as well as a pretty unjustly harsh sansa critic. and alys karstark, who was given an entire moment and dedication with ned umber, under jon’s allowing them to re-pledge their fealty. she, along with ned in the previous meeting upon daenerys’ initial arrival, has all the reason in the world to still look at jon as the power in the room, despite his giving it away. just as ned had, as well. but, the reason she stands with sansa -- the reason ned also previously addresses her as the person who will make the decisions for winterfell and literally forgets to address jon and daenerys and has to awkwardly correct himself -- the reason sansa holds the room, is because she is the one who has been making those decisions. she’s the one who’s been taking care of them and the rest of the people. feeding them, housing them, calling them all to winterfell’s walls for safe keeping.

at brienne’s testimony, it’s sansa’s sway away from a small moment on daenerys’ side of the line on the matter (her only small moment on daenerys’ side of the line, because despite what the g.a. think she was absolutely not on her side at any point during their conversation in the library. thinking she’d be so easily turned into a supporter, because a chick made fun of jon’s height, gave a canned speech about her completely superficial love of him, openly admitted that she didn’t show up because she cares about the survival of the the people of westeros, and proved she has no actual plan for ruling is super insulting to sansa) that turns the room and daenerys’ available choices. jon’s following response. daenerys’ having to suck it up and not kill this man who saved a city.

even jon defers, as well, to sansa’s position -- if subconsciously or not. distractedly standing with her opinion on letting jaime stay (and not be set on fire), when he knows the smartest thing for his totally not pol!jon totally not situation is to just agree with daenerys on the matter of this singular man, who doesn’t even have his sword hand any longer. and also on something as simple as honoring daenerys’ position. he should’ve stood with missandei, jorah, and varys. he does not. he stands after sansa, just as the rest of the room does. and avoids daenerys by leaving after/with sansa, after she bounces from the room. the only person who does not see the power in sansa’s hands -- who still has it placed firmly in jon’s, despite season eight trying to imply he suddenly just doesn’t give a shit about this dude and is good with letting him rot at the wall -- is davos. who defers to jon. steadily rises with him.

it’s all too subtle. just like most everything of any worth in the last seasons. i’m constantly seeing people who didn’t even realize it happened, just as most people don’t notice that jon tries to take a dragon with him to kings landing, when it directly disobeys daenerys’ order. but, despite the fact that it’s too subtle, it’s still one of -- i believe -- the best moments and visual displays of just how well sansa has had the people’s backs in taking care of them, to have them behind hers so prominently (with two other rulers in the room that they’re technically “supposed to be” supporting), even before she’s given a crown.

#got #gotedit #gotsansastark #sansa stark #gotjonsnow #tvedit #miscellaneous**#gotdaenerystargaryen #got8edit #userebony #this isn't j/s but it is his recognizing her place. so.#lolol

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magalidragon · 4 years ago

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crossing paths | Jonerys AU | teaser

a/n: ahhh remember these moodboards!? 🙈 I am working on a fun, silly, hopefully sweet and sexy fic. Jon is a playboy with a heart of gold, Dany is the escort he always seems to cross paths with but who is immune to his charms. Naturally they fall for each other and naturally there is more under the surface...

"You want to get back at him?"

Dany squinted. "What were you thinking?"

"Doesn't he love his car?" Jon wiggled his brows, moving by her towards the room, to collect their coats. He grinned, turning and walking backwards. "Wanna slash his tires?"

To his delight, she followed, holding her skirt in her hand, still fuming with anger. "Light his car on fire, more like."

"We could do that too."

After a moment, eyes locked, gray on that peculiar blue, she nodded. She smiled. "Alright."

They tugged on coats; hers was a long beautiful black duster with a row of shiny black buttons up the front. He didn't really need his overcoat but tugged it on and left it open, leading her from the keep and down the winding stairs and ramps towards the parking lot. They laughed, almost slipping in a couple places, and he grabbed her hand to keep her from stumbling on the steps.

"What's with those killer heels?" he teased. "Unless you use them as weapons."

"They've come in handy tonight." They stole through the lot used to park the cars, searching for Jorah's. She spotted it and grinned, hurrying over, dropping her clutch on the hood. Her fingers were red, breath coming in hot smoky puffs; with her shining eyes and her bright red lips, she looked like she was going to breath fire.

Jon realized there was a clip in her hair, holding it back, visible at the nape of her neck. He leaned closer; it was a silver three-headed dragon. She certainly is a dragon. He knelt with her, both of them laughing as they let the air out of the tires. "Serves him right," she seethed, coming back to her feet when they'd finished.

"Oi! What're you two doing over there?"

They both spun, staring at a couple of the hired security guards. Laughing, he grabbed her hand, and they tripped and ran towards the keep again. "Fuck!" Jon laughed, enjoying himself immensely. He was certainly no longer bored. Beside him, she laughed too; a beautiful, throaty laugh, just as smoky as a real dragon.

#jonerys #jonerys au #my fics #my moodboards #fic teaser #escort!dany #fuckboi!jon

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a-libra-writes · 5 years ago

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Game of Thrones Imagines - Dancing

in which i write waaay too much about this because ive been listening to waltz music and im absolute trash for dancing scenes

In this preference, you’ll enjoy little drabbles with: Ned Stark, Benjen Stark, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, Jorah Mormont, Jamie Lannister, Tywin Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Sandor Clegane, Bronn of Blackwater, Stannis Baratheon, Renly Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, Brienne, Margeary Tyrell, Loras Tyrell, Ramsay Bolton, Roose Bolton, Edmure Tully, Brynden Tully, Oberyn Martell, Yara Greyjoy, Petyr Baelish, Beric Dondarrion, Tormund Giantsbane

seven hells what order should I put these guys in

NED STARK

In his youth, Ned never really bothered with the ins and outs of dancing. He didn’t see the point; training or running Winterfell was more important, besides, it was more of a Southern thing. His brothers shared his lack of enthusiasm, so he didn’t really care about it.

However, this changed at a gala at Winterfell, when he saw you for the first time. You were so lively and kind, and your beauty seemed to increase tenfold when you danced. He didn’t even notice his brother Brandon was your partner at first, and suddenly, he couldn’t keep himself from asking you for the next dance, worried Brandon might keep you all night. As he put his hand to your waist and your hand in his, he internally panicked… But that melted away as you gave him a reassuring smile.

Ned didn’t even notice you were leading him, nor did he dwell on the few stumbles he made. He just couldn’t believe he was so close to you, and enjoying something like dancing.

He tried practicing and brushing up a bit after that, but really, it was a bit of a lost cause. After you married, he still loved to take you in his arms anyway, and he was never short of praise for you when the gala was over. You teased him about watching you all night instead of visiting with his fellow lords, and he wasn’t ashamed to say that he loved watching your graceful movements.

The last dance was Ned’s favorite, as he loved it when you leaned your head on his shoulder and you two could just sway. If you were particularly tired, he’d wait until the guests had mostly cleared out and bridal carry you to your shared bedroom. He used to feel a bit embarrassed in helping you undress, but later he took great pleasure in how you'd sigh. This extended to him eventually sharing a bath with you afterward, soothing your body with the warm water and his hands.

BENJEN STARK

Benjen had never cared for dancing, especially these silly galas the Southerners liked. He never thought he was missing out, and rather enjoyed teasing Brandon and Ned for having to go to them, and later teased Robb for the same thing.

He was stopping by Winterfell and staying the night when he heard of a gala going on. Benjen wanted to speak with his brother and nephews, so he stopped by inside, surprised by the amount of people and the music. He spotted Jon and went to him, only for someone to catch his eye. He didn’t keep track of the family members of the North, as it wasn’t his place anymore, but he wished he had a name for your lovely face.

You were dancing with Robb, smiling at him, laughing when he leaned in and said something. He admired the way you moved with such elegance, despite Robb having some trouble keeping up.

“Uncle?” Jon found him first, and tried to get his attention.

Benjen quickly shut his mouth and greeted his nephew. As he hugged him, he still glanced at you. Jon had noticed and teased his uncle, mentioning your family was close to the Starks, and you were their only daughter. As Benjen had visited with his family, he couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you. He was ready to leave, wanting to keep you off his mind, and he was surprised when you sought him out first.

“I’m so sorry to intrude, but you’re … Benjen, correct? My cousin is with the Night’s Watch, and he mentioned you - Wait, I haven’t even introduced myself…”

He thought it was so cute how breathless you were, and you were trying to be polite to a man of the Night's Watch, even if you had no reason to. He asked for your name, and many other questions, both of you drawing into conversation without realizing it. You noticed a few songs had passed already, and you took a chance. You asked if he would be allowed to dance with you. Benjen hesitated, and politely refused you, figuring a lady shouldn’t be dancing with someone like him. He was surprised by how disheartened you look, and he was disappointed as well.

As the evening grew dark, you noticed Benjen had disappeared at some point. You were glad to leave the stuffy hall, your feet and legs were aching. Outside, the frozen air was perfect, and you took a deep breath … and you yelped as a sudden gust of wind hit you. Your dress was thin, and you shivered.

Suddenly, someone wrapped a warm fur around you. You looked up. “Benjen? I was wondering where you were.”

“You were looking for me?” His pleased smile was cute. You pulled the fur further around your shoulders and spoke honestly. “Yes. I wanted to see you."

The two of you lingered, and you could feel a sort of tension. There was still music from the hall, albeit muffled and distant. You spoke first, asking him to dance with you.

Benjen couldn’t believe you managed to take him off guard, but he didn’t make the same mistake twice. He accepted, pulling you into his arms. As you shivered again, he pulled you even closer, and you wondered if it was his heart or your’s that you could hear.

From then on, anytime Benjen passed by Winterfell, you were sure to see him. You two shared several secret meetings, which weren’t limited to dances. He especially liked it when you snuck out of the galas early and curled up with him in your guest room, where he'd soothe your aching legs while whispering how beautiful you looked.

ROBB STARK

Like most Northern lords, Robb felt the entire idea of galas and dancing was silly. Still, he knew you attended them, so he’d do his best to practice a few steps when no one was looking. During a gala, he didn’t hide that he was looking around for you, and would try his best to have you at the first dance. When he danced with other ladies, he really wasn’t that attentive and sometimes made mistakes out of nervousness, or because he was too busy watching you across the room.

Once Robb finally had you as a partner, it was obvious how pleased he was as he held you. He’d try to play it cool, but you could tell he was concentrating on following the right steps.

Just for fun, you liked to throw him off by moving a little closer and whispering something sweet. His face would go red and he’d stumble, and you two would laugh to yourselves, stuck in your own little world.

He’d eventually grow in confidence and you could tell by how firmly he held you and how he began to lead the dance more and more. If you asked him about practicing, he’d have to blush again and admit he was doing it for you, as he loved watching you twirl with more experienced partners, and hoped that someday he could make you smile like that. You’d insist that you love dancing with him the most, no matter what, and he’d likely almost step on your feet again because he was so happy.

At the end of a dance, Robb always gives you an earnest kiss on your hand and lingers a bit, still holding your hand and looking you in the eyes. It’s so obvious he wants to kiss you for real, but then he has to hand you off to a partner, frowning the whole time. He’d definitely want to find you for a last dance, and at the end of that, he’d risk it and give you a kiss on the cheek - still holding your hand. He often lingers after the music ends, still holding onto you, and you have to teasingly remind him to let you go and return to his family.

Often Robb really can’t take it and finds you after the gala, in the evening, wanting to hold your hand and steal a proper kiss from you. “I’ve been waiting to do that all night.”

“Ha! Get it all out of your system, before someone comes looking for us.”

SANSA STARK

Since she was a girl, Sansa always daydreamed about attending fabulous galas and dances in the South. Once she arrived in King’s Landing, you and her became fast friends after she met you at her first one. She looked up to you, loving your poise and grace. You began to teach her, and although she had some trouble with more complicated steps, she appreciated your patient instruction. Each gala was a whirlwind of emotion for her, and when it became too much, especially with Joffrey, she’d seek you out in the crowd. You’d take her into your arms and dance, quietly alleviating her worries as the music played.

The situation in King’s Landing became worse, but Sansa continued to attend your lessons. You noticed the toll the events was taking on her health and mind, but she insisted she was fine.

One day, she was especially clumsy in the lesson, often making mistakes and spacing out. You knew it was rather pointless you ask, but you did so quietly, whispering to her as you guided her along the steps.

Suddenly Sansa held fast to you, bringing you into a crushing hug. You heard her shudder and try to stifle herself, but several tears came out. You continued to sway, soothing her and petting her hair. As soon as you both heard someone, she pulled away, pressing her sleeves at her eyes to hide any tears. You both quickly returned to the lesson as several servants passed by.

From that point, Sansa would often exclusively seek you out at galas, pointedly dancing with just you even if propriety demanded you two part. She only would after a scathing comment from Cersei or Joffrey - and she would've danced with others for a time, but then she’d always come back to you. You’d still whisper soothing words when no one would hear as you two twirled.

Once the dances were over, you both would be exhausted, but Sansa would still linger with you. You’d hold her hand, taking her to her room, sometimes shooing away her handmaidens so you could brush her hair and keep comforting her. She wouldn’t always accept this, however, and would want to help you as well, smiling softly when you’d attempt to joke and make witty comments to lighten the mood.

JON SNOW

Jon was never expected to bother with fancy feasts or galas, and he told himself he was fine with it, especially since Robb was always dressed up and dragged off for them. He still found it a bit lonely, however, and he was curious about the music that was always playing for the galas. Sometimes he’d hang around outside, listening to the laughter and music. He was doing this on the night you saw him. Jon heard someone hurry out, and he was surprised to see a girl all dressed up and out of breath. You sat down on a bench almost fell over as you removed your shoes.

You turned around and yelped, and he startled, too. He apologized for frightening you, and was glad you just laughed it off.

“You’re … Lord Stark’s boy, right? Jon Snow?”

He was surprised you recognized him, and thankful that you were talking to him so kindly. You introduced yourself, explaining your shoe had broken and you were worn out. As you shivered, he quickly gave you his fur, and you two ended up talking for much longer than you expected.

“The galas aren't so bad, I promise. Yes, they’re tiring, and dressing up takes far too long, and the lords can be overbearing …” You trailed off, and he couldn’t help but laugh. You were so pretty in your outfit, and he wondered if Robb was one of those lords who annoyed you. You stood up and took his hands, further surprising him. “Still, they're fun! Here, I’ll show you!”

Even though Jon tried to protest, he really couldn’t argue once you were placing his hands. He knew something of dancing that he was taught, but not much, and he hoped he didn’t touch you anywhere inappropriate. You ended up swaying and dancing along, and he began to forget himself.

Once you began to shiver again, he remembered your feet were bare and offered to help you to your guest room. There were several more galas at Winterfell, and you liked skipping out to talk and visit with him. He still had plans to go to the Wall, and he considered his time with you precious, knowing it wouldn’t last long. A few times Robb or Theon teased him for having a crush, and he’d just tell them they were imagining things.

Whenever he'd hear the music of the galas, whether it be a minstrel that was playing or someone singing, he'd wonder what it'd be like if he were a true Stark and was allowed to dance with you like the other lords.

THEON GREYJOY

Naturally, Theon wasn’t allowed to participate in the few galas at Winterfell, and he didn’t think Ironborns should be doing flowery dancing, anyway. Still, his interest was piqued when he noticed you and Sansa practicing, and how the servants would gossip about how lovely you and Robb looked when you danced.

So Theon ended up sneaking into a few, especially at Robb and Jon’s urging. They were ready to get a kick out of Theon falling over himself or Catlyn dragging him out by the ear, but he surprised nearly everyone when he strode up to you with confidence, asking for a dance. You knew him, of course, and you were surprised when he kept up with you.

Not just that, he was almost a natural even if he didn’t know all the steps. He had an infectious energy, and you two ended up sharing quite a few laughs. If he messed up or you teased him about his hand being too low, he’d have a joke ready. Once you finished the dance, he made sure to kiss your hand with a wink, sometimes giving you a kiss on the cheek if no one was watching.

Theon’s absolute favorite thing to do was “steal” you from your partner, especially if it was someone he knew you disliked. He’d just whisk you off with a smirk and a quip, and you two would try to stifle your giggles at how angry the man would look.

Theon was only able to snatch you for the last dance once, and he got an earful for it later - but it was completely worth it. It felt like it was just the two of you in the room, and he stole a kiss before being dragged off by Robb and Jon, who were positive that Catlyn was going to tear Theon a new one.

Theon would always try to find you after a gala. His usual flirting would fall a bit short, as he’d be a bit intimidated by how lovely and breathless you looked, but you’d still smile and would give him a real kiss goodnight.

DAENERYS TARGARYEN

You were a noble from Westeros who had long been travelling Essos, and you soon came into the service of the Queen of Dragons. You two had a surprising friendship, and she found herself quite drawn to you. One day, she heard you humming and dancing along to something as you tidied up, and she asked you with a laugh what you were doing.

As you described the grand balls you’d attend, and all the silly nonsense your parents would make you wear, she’d become thoughtful. She told you to demonstrate some more of the dances, and you were amused by how queenly her demand was. You’d do your best, but explain that it’s better with two people - perhaps one of her handmaidens or Missandei could help.

To your surprise, Daenerys would step forward and hold you with a strong confidence, all but telling you to instruct her. You’d do so, keeping your smile down as you guided her hands and began the basic steps. Daenerys did her best to follow, although she took it quite seriously, and thus would make a few mistakes. As you’d tease her good naturedly, she’d be even more determined, bringing you even closer and telling you to focus on the lesson.

Your lessons continued for some time, each one the two of you going longer and becoming a little more breathless. Daenerys loved how you’d hum the songs and would move with such confidence, it would distract her more than your lips or the feeling of your body against her’s. Finally, she’d push you against the wall and kiss you until you were breathless… And afterwards, you’d giggle and ask her how long she’s been wanting to do such a thing. The queen certainly punished that bit of cheek.

While you don’t have lessons all that much anymore, during celebrations Daenerys will take you to herself and lead you in the dance. She’d obviously be pleased with your compliments, which you found adorable.

Sometimes in her chambers, when the windows are open and you both can hear the sea, she’d pull you into her arms and want to slow dance. You both would end up making up your own dances, and would take turns leaning on each other and sharing kisses and whispers.

JORAH MORMONT

Dancing with Jorah came about purely by accident. You were discussing Westerosi culture with Daenerys, as you were also from there and she was curious. You described attending galas, all the beautiful dresses and lights and music. Jorah had attended a few as well, even though they weren’t as popular in the North, and he shared his stories.

Daenerys looked to the both of you with a bit of mischief in her eyes. She asked if you two could show her how some of the dances are done. You quickly felt shy, as you had quite a crush on Ser Jorah, but the idea of being so close and dancing with him was a wonderful thought. You looked to him, and he also seemed a little flustered, but he gave you a smile. “A dance or two for the Khaleesi shouldn’t be a problem. It’s been some time for me, so you may have to lead, my lady.”

You gladly did so, you loved it when he called you a lady, reminding you of better times back at home. Despite his words, he took you in his arms with little hesitation and after you counted a few times, you both were easily waltzing around the room. You hummed a song you remembered, and he also remembered it, and began recalling when he was a young man and attended his first gala.

You didn’t notice, but he was discussing the story more with you than Daenerys, and she had long snuck out of the room with Missandei, the two of them grinning.

You two had ended up dancing along to several more songs, talking all the while. You hummed and sometimes sang a song, and he easily swayed you even if he didn’t know it. Jorah held you just perfectly, not too tight, and you felt so safe in his arms. It wasn’t until you turned to ask Daenerys a question that you realized you both were alone, totally out of breath and not knowing how long you’d been dancing.

You had a mix of emotions, you were homesick and lovesick. Jorah assumed your quietness was because you were tired, and he brought you water and took you to a place to rest. You were touched, and you two kept talking into the evening. You eventually began leaning on him and fell asleep, and he carefully carried you to your room and kissed your brow before he tucked you in.

You both confessed your feelings to each other shortly afterward. While there wasn’t much time for parties in the Free Cities, sometimes during quiet evenings you’d pull him into a dance and he’d love it, enjoying your closeness and how you’d hum and rest your head on his chest.

JAMIE LANNISTER

Jamie was always expected to be accomplished in most things, and socially-demanded dancing for stuffy galas was no different. Although he didn’t think much of it, he had a natural talent for it. Jamie didn’t have many chances to dance, however, as the Kingsguard was generally discouraged from participating in galas, unless it was for ceremony or some event.

You first danced together at one of these ceremonies, and Jamie was relieved. You two had known each other for a while, and he was glad not to get stuck with some lovestruck maid. He started out with a smirk, making sassy remarks about the silliness of the whole thing, and you teasing him about being rude while dancing with a lady. As it went on, Jamie started to become quiet. He began to realize how much he liked having you this close, how you smiled and reassured him, and lightly scolded him when he made a rude comment about a guest. He couldn’t keep his heart still, and told himself it was just the exercise.

He was disappointed when the dance ended, and ended up finding you for a few more. When you were taken for the last dance, he couldn’t deny how irritated he felt, and watched you and your damned partner the whole time.

After that, he was sure to attend more galas, but not enough to bring suspicion to your growing relationship. He’d sometimes play it risky, bringing you closer than was proper, whispering in your ear lovely or flirty praises if he knew his sister was away. He really only enjoyed dancing with you, and didn’t have a problem turning down anyone else, although he had to dance with a few others to avoid being seen as too rude.

After he lost his hand and returned to King’s Landing, the bright galas lost their appeal and he stopped attending, even for ceremony. He ended up finding you in a practice room one day, and you guided him to you, although he protested. Once you began humming a song you knew he liked, and guided him into it, he couldn’t help but bring you close against his chest. He leaned into you, swaying as he nuzzled into your hair, holding you so tight it almost hurt.

You knew he was overwhelmed with emotion from his captivity, so when you two got a chance alone, you’d hold him close and whisper how much you loved him, sometimes swaying and humming the songs you two used to dance to.

TYRION LANNISTER

Galas were like any other feast or party for Tyrion, he could have plenty of drink and banter, and if he got bored, he’d slip out and go to a brothel. If he knew you were in attendance, you two would sit together, trading drinks and stories.

He knew you loved to dance, and sometimes you’d step away to enjoy the music. He’d have some feelings of envy and sadness, wishing he could dance so easily with you. One day, you noticed him being particularly self-pitying, and you pulled him by the wrist.

“What’s this, my lady? Normally, I wouldn’t refuse you, but with so many people -”

You smiled and shook your head. “Oh, honestly, it’s not that. I want you to dance with me.”

Tyrion was obviously unsure, he didn’t want that sort of attention drawn to both of you. He knew his reputation, but he didn’t want to sully your’s. You insisted, but instead of dragging him to the middle of the dance floor, you pulled him out in the halls.

“Now I’m really getting mixed messages about your intentions,” He joked, trying to relieve his anxiety.

You rolled your eyes and took his hands, and gently instructed him. Outside, you could still hear the music, but you were alone, enjoying yourselves You both ended up losing track of time, and had to hurry back separately, so no one would assume anything untoward.

He was touched by your kindness, loving you even more, if that was possible. During galas, you two would hold hands and drink, and after you married you were more than able to sneak out and dance to yourselves under the moon and stars.

TYWIN LANNISTER

It was the first time you had attended a gala at Casterly Rock, and your parents wanted you on your best behavior. You had to dance the appropriate amount of time with the appropriate amount of partners, at the appropriate distance. Just thirty minutes in and you wanted to leave.

You noticed Tywin Lannister sitting at a table with his family members; he was hard to miss, with his great presence. However, you became wrapped up in your irksome partners, and you didn’t notice he was gone until he was suddenly beside you. Your scared partner wasted no time in handing you over, and before you knew it, you were dancing with the Warden of the West.

He had a confident hold on you, and perhaps he was a little too close, but you hardly thought about that. You were surprised by his poise and practiced steps; he led you effortlessly and you found yourself complimenting him. You blushed and tried not to look away as he returned the compliment with his low voice. You'd never thought he would do such a thing, and to you of all people.

At the end of it, he gave you a proper bow and kiss on your hand, but it felt different than others you received. You were still buzzing. At the end of the night, he picked you for the last dance, and you were determined not to be intimidated again. You danced wonderfully in sync with him, and you could swear he tried to change some steps to trip you up. You didn’t fall for it, and followed his lead easily. The dance was over before you knew it, and he gave you another customary kiss on your hand, but there was a peculiar look in his eyes that made your heart flutter even more.

The gossip in court exploded after that, with your handmaids telling you that he almost never danced with any lady, and everyone agreed you two looked like royalty.

You still remember that night fondly after you two married. After you wed, he was sure to get the first few dances with you at each gala, and no one was going to take Tywin Lannister’s wife from him until he was quite finished. Once he was, he’d hand you to a partner and sit down, his eyes occasionally following you across the ballroom. No one would think of making an inappropriate move on you, especially at Casterly Rock.

If he felt someone was overstepping their bounds, Tywin wouldn’t hesitate to calmly stand from his seat, make his way to you, and give them a quiet but vicious reminder of who you were married to. Then, he’d guide you to his seat, where he’d keep his hand over yours until he calmed down.

For the last dance, no matter how tired he was or who he was speaking to, he’d seek you out. While Tywin always held you close, if he was in a particular mood, he’d make sure your body was nearly touching his, and his hand would have a firm grip on your waist. The two of you would talk quietly or you'd enjoy a peaceful silence with knowing glances. Tywin wouldn’t want to show too much affection in public, but you could tell from his soft gaze and the way he held you that he very much wanted you. Once the dance was finished, he’d keep you by his side until the gala finished and you two retired to your bedchambers.

SANDOR CLEGANE

Of all the stupid things nobles do, Sandor found galas especially fucking stupid, especially with all the fuss in guarding them. Normally he was glad to take the night off and drink, but since being hired by your family, he had to attend to guard you.

He’d already had growing feelings for you, and the damn galas only made it worse. You were always dressed beautifully, always smiling at this person and laughing with that one. At least you'd give cold looks to lords who didn’t impress you, but he still hated how everyone held your attention. Anytime one of the lords was too close or touchy, he’d be sure to touch his sword and quietly appear next to you two until they’d slink off.

After a well-known incident involving a drunk lord who ended up lifted by his neck and nearly tossed, the guests figured out you were well-protected and didn’t try anything fishy. It really wasn’t enough for Sandor, he didn’t give a shit about dancing, it just drove him up a wall how other men were so close and touching you. You couldn’t stand some of them, but you had to allow it, and whatever you two felt for each other had to be kept under wraps.

In the evening, when the gala ran long and your legs and feet were absolutely killing you, Sandor would wait until you two were alone and pick you up. He’d cradle you bridal style, secretly adoring how you rested your head on his broad shoulders and kept him close, sometimes touching his face as you closed your eyes. He’d be bold enough to take you into your bedroom and set you down on the bed, ignoring the scandalized looks of your handmaidens. Eventually you began sending them away, and when Sandor would set you down, he’d be sure to strip you from your clothes (perhaps a bit too roughly), rubbing your legs and meeting your lips as you held onto his face.

At one point you were practicing in an empty room and you offered to teach him. He snorted, saying he wasn’t doing that shit, and you laughed, figuring you’d give it a try. After a gala, you still have the music in your head, so when you’re both alone you’ll wrap your arms around him and hum, trying to sway him along with you. He’ll grumble and complain but still bring his arms around you, holding you a little too tight, as if trying to erase all the people who were touching you before. Sometimes he was feeling especially jealous, seeing how flushed your cheeks were and how you breathed heavily in your dress, and he’d be too eager to rip it while ‘helping’ you undress.

BRONN

No surprise, he’d scoff at the ridiculousness of the galas and dancing. He and Tyrion would have plenty of good laughs about it as you got ready, and he’d be sure to give you several compliments on your backside before you left. After he was knighted at Blackwater, Tyrion made several jokes about him attending to find a proper wife, which he always blew off. It wasn’t until Tyrion brought up your marriage in passing, and how you’d likely find a husband at a gala since you attended so many, that he got a little irritated.

He didn’t want to go, of course, but he recalled how you always dressed up for them. Were you dressing up for someone in particular? He didn’t think you were the husband-hunting type. The whole idea just left a bad taste in his mouth, so he agreed to go to one with Tyrion, fully intending to just drink and joke the whole time.

Naturally none of the lords and ladies looked forward to having Bronn or Tyrion there, but you still sat with them, laughing and drinking along. Bronn kept fighting the urge to pull you into his lap like he did when he visited the taverns, and right when he was about to pull you to him by your waist, you were asked to dance by some Lord Who Knows from Where the Fuck. Bronn definitely was glaring when the man took you away.

As the lord danced with you, and you smiled politely when he kissed your hand at the end, Bronn hoped that was it. Nope, several lords were ready to dance with you. Evidently, you were popular, and that wasn’t surprising. Bronn wasn’t a flowery words type, but the word ‘beautiful’ kept coming to mind as you twirled and glittered under the lights. It just irked him, so he kept drinking and suggested to Tyrion that they ditch and find a brothel. He remained irritated, despite the distractions.

The next time you readied for a gala and stopped by Tyrion’s office to see if he was joining you, Bronn felt that ugly feeling again, and urged you to come to one of his favorite taverns instead.

You thought he was joking. “In my jewels and one of my favorite dresses?”

“Eh, leave the jewels. I can help ya out of that dress, if ya need it.” He grinned.

You realized he actually meant it, and you sighed, thinking about how upset your family would be, especially since you were still unmarried… But Bronn looked almost eager, and it was hard to refuse him to begin with. You rolled your eyes, told him to give you some time and returned in a much simpler outfit. He couldn’t keep his grin and laugh to himself as he pulled you out of the castle, with Tyrion smirking to himself as you two left.

At the tavern, there was plenty of music and drinks already flowing. After you two drank plenty, Bronn pulled you up, telling you he’d show you what real dancing was. You’d never actually been amongst the smallfolk like this, so you were a little overwhelmed, but you loved the way his hands touched and wandered across your body. He was risky, giving you kisses here on there, sometimes on your jaw or your neck, encouraged by your laughter. Once you two were tired and thirsty, he eagerly pulled you into his lap, calling for another round of drinks. The two of you spent quite a bit of time at the inn and the room upstairs. From then on, you began shirking attending galas, having more fun dancing with Bronn in various taverns and dance halls in King’s Landing.

STANNIS BARATHEON

Not too surprising, Stannis saw no enjoyment in galas, even when he was unmarried and expected to find a wife. The regular feasts were pain enough, and Renly and Robert always took the attention of others anyway.

While courting you, he never actually met you at a gala, preferring to see you elsewhere. When you two married, he realized that he eventually had to attend them, as you couldn’t go by yourself … and he knew how much you loved them. So even with his discomfort, he made attempts to practice with you. You guided him patiently, and he paid attention, although he often got distracted by your happy smile, and how you’d reward him with kisses. He’d tell you to let up on all the affection so he could concentrate, but …. Nope, you didn’t. If you kept showering him with praise and affection, he’d become terribly flustered and try to pull you back into the lesson.

When a gala finally came around, you could tell he was nervous, even if he seemed the same to anyone else. He danced with you through two songs, which surprised you. You forgot yourself more than once, giving him a chaste kiss or a compliment like you’d do in practice, and you both would blush and hope no one noticed.

He’d sit out after that, feeling too out of place. He’d feel nervous seeing you dance with more loud and outgoing men, evening starting to grind his teeth if they looked too cozy with you. Eventually, Davos would have to point out that you didn’t smile nearly as much for the other lords, nor did you stay close to them or laugh at their silly jokes.

For the last dance, you could tell he was happy to return to you. He held you much closer, even giving you subdued smiles as you beamed up at him and noted his improvement. At the end, he’d give you a kiss on the hand, but wouldn’t be satisfied and would end up giving you a sweet one on your lips.

RENLY BARATHEON

While Renly was good enough at dancing and he had friends at the gala, he preferred feasts and tourneys, especially since galas were full of starry-eyed girls chasing after him. You two met when you were forced to partner up, you both were trying to escape more undesirable partners and easily danced away from them. Once you’d both realize what you just did, you’d have a good laugh about it and started to get to know each other.

Since you two often visited at other events after that, there were rumors, but you knew his heart was with a certain Tyrell. He was a fun friend anyway, especially when you both wanted to escape at a gala. You’d dance and make jokes, complain about your families and snigger at certain guests. One time you both were being pursued by especially annoying partners for a last dance, and you literally spent half the song dodging through couples, avoiding them and finally finding each other, only to be totally out of breath and the song nearly over.

DAVOS SEAWORTH

You attended more than enough galas for one lady; your parents were so eager for you to marry, they dragged you to dozens. At least you enjoyed dancing, however, the instability of Westeros had other ideas. You followed your father on his campaign to support Stannis, putting a solid end to any future galas.

As you were often at Dragonstone, you befriended little Shireen, who naturally wasn’t allowed to attend galas. You began giving her little lessons, teaching her some of the songs and steps to them, which she loved. Eventually you began to befriend Davos as well, ans he thought it was adorable to watch the two of you. He especially liked the grace and ease that you moved with, it reminded him of a ship sailing on an easy breeze.

One evening, Shireen suggested that you teach Davos how to dance. He was taken off-guard and quickly said that he really wasn’t a dancer, besides, you were a proper lady who ought to dance with proper lords.

“You are also a lord, and a knight, Ser Davos.” You reminded him. "Besides, in these times, the realm has little need for fancy parties."

He still seemed uneasy and tried several other excuses, until you walked up to him, put his hand on your waist and took up his right one. Of course, he felt insecure about his missing fingers, but you didn’t even bring it up. And it was hard to focus on them, when he had your lovely eyes and your sweet smile so close.

Shireen sang the songs you taught her, and you sang along, carefully guiding him into a simple two and three step dance. He was stiff and nervous the whole time, worried about touching you inappropriately, wanting to touch you but knowing he shouldn’t. After that, several times when he stopped by to see you and Shireen, he’d be dragged into another dancing lesson. He actually did love being so close to you, and how sweet you were with the princess. It made his mind wander to what sort of family you two would have.

Davos never really saw you at a proper ball, which he considered a good and a bad thing. He’d never see you in a lovely dress enchanting the room, but he also wouldn’t have to see younger, handsomer men dancing perfectly with you.

Sometimes when you were feeling anxious, you’d wrap your arms around his warm torso and hold him close to you, humming one of the songs and swaying with him. He’d hold your waist, kissing your brow and giving you words of comfort, knowing you liked the movement and closeness.

MARGAERY TYRELL

The two of you began dancing in the practice room. Margaery was quite drawn to you based off the rumors she heard, and she wasn’t disappointed, as you two quickly dazzled the room. From then on, you often practiced together, usually trading gossip and jokes the whole time.

At the next gala, she surprised you with asking you to dance. You two twirled around the floor, enchanting anyone who watched with your combined grace, not knowing you two were cracking jokes or sharing flirtations while the music played.

You danced often together, although you both knew when it was appropriate to stop dancing together and dance with a possible suitor, it never made you happy. A few times Margaery would notice when a man was getting too close, and she’d swiftly whisk you away with a charming smile, leaving him none the wiser that you were being rescued. Often, you two would catch each other’s eyes while dancing with other partners, and she’d give you a knowing smile.

After one of the parties was winding down, you accompanied Margaery to her private chambers so you two could get out of your dresses and soothe your aching feet. She noticed you were feeling down most of the evening. “Is something the matter, love?”

“Well…” You felt foolish. “I was thinking how you and I will never get the last dance. If we ever did, people would think it was some joke.”

Before you knew it, she whisked you off the bed and onto your feet. “Then, we’ll dance right now! This will be our last one, or the one after this, or the one after that. The last dance will always be just the two of us, when we decide.”

From then on, you two had a little tradition, having your “last dance” in one of your chambers, humming to the ballroom songs in your nightgowns and usually ending it with a fit of giggles on the bed.

LORAS TYRELL

It wasn’t too surprising that Loras was just as graceful in dance as he was on horseback, and all the ladies of the realm were eager to dance with him when he attended a gala. Loras was polite, giving the proper amount of time to each lady, as he truly enjoyed galas, even if his partners could be lacking, and even if he’d never get to dance with the one he really loved.

However, Loras was surprised by you, pleasantly so. He loved that you knew the complicated steps he couldn’t try with other partners, and would give you challenges to keep up. You two would end up getting lost in the music, dancing through several songs. Several guests would stop dancing or talking just to watch, and you both usually got a hearty round of applause by the end of it.

Of course, you both would be exhausted and sweating, but he had a high respect for you and began seeing you as a friend.

BRIENNE OF TARTH

Brienne wasn’t crazy about guarding galas, as it just brought back painful memories of her own rejections and trying desperately to fit in. She’d sigh and bear it, moving all her focus to protecting you. She took the duty seriously, thus, she always watched you.

She began to admire the grace and beauty you had as you danced. She always thought you were pretty, but when you smiled and twirled, and your hair and gown moved with you, it was almost dream-like. More than once, her heart beat quickly as she watched you effortlessly pull off some move she couldn’t attempt or even name. She didn’t even pay attention to your partners, unless they were obviously pushing their boundaries - which she’d be quick to correct if you didn’t stop them first.

One day, you were in your practice room and she was once again taken with you. You noticed her staring, and asked if she’d like to help you practice.

Brienne was taken aback by the suggestion, and quickly became uncomfortable. She insisted there was no way she could be of any help. As you pressed her, she kept insisting, saying she wasn’t graceful and she’d just end up hurting you.

She sat in on several other practice sessions, and you began to get specific with her. You’d ask her to stand still or hold you a certain way so you could practice a dance. She’d get what you were doing right away, but she’d be obedient, trying to calm her beating heart. As you two became closer, and you reassured her, she’d slowly try to hold you and try a few moves, but she’d quickly lose confidence and retreat into herself.

At one gala, during the last dance, a lord was much too forward with you and even tried to follow after you once it ended. Brienne was quick to put him in his place, face-first on the ground. She escorted you back to your room, noticing how upset you were by the whole ordeal.

“Who cares about the last dance, anyway? It’s just stupid ceremony, yet men act like fools over it,” You ranted, taking off your heels and dress. Brienne agreed, trying not to be distracted by you disrobing.

“My last dance will be with whomever I please. Brienne?”

She stood at attention. “My lady?”

You held out your hands, dressed in only your nightgown. “Will you be my last dance, my knight?”

She blushed to her ears and began to refuse, but she thought of all the men who would try to grab you, coerce you into a dance or just act tasteless. Setting her sword aside, she took your hands carefully. You hummed a song and led her into it, and she swore you could hear her heart beneath her armor. In spite of all her worries and insecurities, she loved having you so close, and she couldn’t stop herself from giving you a proper knightly kiss on your hand once your impromptu dance finished.

RAMSAY BOLTON

You knew of Ramsay’s reputation when you married him. You weren’t a fool, you were aware he certainly had feelings for you, and he was willing to keep his more … unsavory aspects away from you, for the most part. He was especially good at playing the dutiful lord husband where guests were concerned, although Roose still kept an eye on him during galas.

You adored dancing and you weren’t going to stop just because he didn’t partake. But to your surprise, one day he took you in his arms, and impressed you with how he followed the music and steps. He was rather clumsy, and perhaps a little too fast, but it was obvious he had been practicing.

You complimented Ramsay, and he was clearly pleased, holding you closer and giving you that charming smile he liked to use. You could always see behind it, but this time it seemed genuine. Sometimes he’d slip up and give you a kiss, often whispering something less than appropriate to you, but before you knew it several songs played and you had enjoyed yourself.

He was still holding onto you when a man came up, asking for your hand. Ramsay looked confused, then clearly irritated, and you had to remind him. “My lord, it’s customary to change partners every other song.”

“Is that so?” His expression changed again, to a darker one you easily recognized. He handed you over to the man, obviously not enjoying it, and you hoped he stayed out of trouble.

As you danced with other partners, you could see he had a few dances with other girls, but then he returned to the table. You could tell there was strong emotion brewing behind his eyes, you just couldn’t be sure what he’d do.

One of the lords dancing with you was quite drunk, and ended up stumbling. You tried to catch him, but he grabbed ahold of you, specifically on your backside. Before you could push him off, Ramsay was already there, taking the man by the collar. The room went totally quiet as he smiled. “I’d recommend you find a different place for those hands, my lord, or they’ll end up separated from your wrists.”

You pulled Ramsay away and Roose urged the musicians to continue. Before you could even speak to Ramsay, he had you in his arms again, but this time with far more possessiveness. He gripped your waist and brought the two of you completely together, and kissing your neck as you two swayed to the song. He began to bite you and leave marks, his tone sweet but his words told you that you belonged to him, and if you or any lords forgot, he’d be more than happy to remind them.

ROOSE BOLTON

It was common knowledge among the Northern lords that Roose didn’t dance at galas. He wasn’t the only Northern lord who did this, of course, but he already had a reputation for being cold. He’d simply sit at the table, observing the guests and occasionally speaking when it was polite.

It wasn’t until Roose was courting you that he finally stood, asking you for the first dance. You were just as surprised as anyone else, but you accepted, and you couldn’t help but notice the confidence and ease that he held you with. His movements weren’t flourishing or energetic, but held your attention with his steely eyes. Occasionally, he’d murmur in your ear a lovely compliment, and it would almost break your concentration.

You noticed as the dances would go on, he’d bring you closer, and you didn’t mind at all. Afterward, he may have accepted a dance here or there from someone else, but he really didn’t get asked, and he seemed quite fine with that. He’d sit at the table at his usual spot, his eyes following you, sometimes catching your gaze and giving an expression that you couldn’t place.

He was able to catch you for the last dance once or twice, and his movements were so slow and steady, it was almost hypnotizing. You found yourself swaying into him, sometimes leaning, and you had to remind yourself to keep an appropriate distance - but then he’d gently pull you back in. As your cheeks flushed, he asked why you suddenly became so shy, and you managed some excuse. At the end of it, he took your hand and gave you a perfectly polite kiss that still gave you goosebumps because of the way he lingered and kept his eyes on you.

Once you married, he’d only dance with you. During a gala, he’d keep an eye on which men were dancing with you - if he felt one was keeping too close, or one was dancing with you too often, he’d come from seemingly nowhere and more or less threaten them away, always in his calm tone. Then he’d take you in his arms, swaying you in his gentle and slow way. As you melted into it, he’d give you a kiss on your brow or cheek. He’d whisper to you sometimes, complimenting your loveliness or reminding you that you two still had the business of making an heir.

At the last dance, he’d only seem to want you more, especially if he was feeling jealous through the night. His long fingers would softly rub the small of your back, often slipping lower if he could get away with it, and he’d give several kisses to your lips and neck. By the end of it, you’re usually a mess, and you’d want the gala to hurry up and be over so you two could get to your shared bedroom.

EDMURE TULLY

As much as his father and sisters attempted to instruct him, Edmure was always clumsy with his feet. Lysa and Catlyn often teased him, pulling him into the practice room and insisting he dance with them. He attended several galas through the years, always quite shy and sort of bumbling when he was dragged to dance with someone.

When your mother not so subtly suggested that you two dance, the panic on his face was obvious. You were probably the most beautiful girl he’d met, and now he’d be making a fool of himself in front of you. You took his hand, giving him a gentle smile, whispering that it would be okay.

You took the lead and he was surprised by how kind you were. You would quietly instruct him and carefully guide him, and he became confident, enjoying several dances with you. He was so disappointed to hand you over to someone else, he almost forgot to kiss your hand.

After you two married, Edmure actually put a lot more work into his practice, since you loved dancing so much and he wanted to spend time with you. He admired your confidence in all things, but especially when all eyes were on you as you went from partner to partner. He’d try to participate as much as he could, but he still was quite clumsy and didn’t want to slow you down, although you insisted he was doing quite well.

When the last dance came, he almost couldn’t wait to be by your side. Your cheeks would be flushed from the evening, and he’d lovingly brush some of your stray hair behind your ear before taking your hand and waist in the last dance. He probably couldn’t resist giving you a kiss on your cheek or forehead, being a little embarrassed by his own behavior. Once it finished, he’d again lose himself and give you a lovely kiss before remembering propriety and placing a kiss on your hand.

Once the evening is over, he’s incredibly attentive to you, massaging your legs and getting you water or whatever you needed. When you tease him about it, he blushes quite a bit, but says he can’t help but look after and spoil his lovely wife.

BRYNDEN TULLY

When you first asked him to dance, he laughed out loud, assuming you were joking. When you insisted, he certainly was surprised, but he set his ale down and gladly stood to join you.

The Blackfish knew he wasn’t graceful in any sense of the word, but he held you firmly, and he led with confidence. If he ever missed any steps, he recovered so smoothly it was hard to tell. He didn't give a damn about any gossip between the two of you, and respected that you felt the same.

Often you’d push yourself closer to him, and he’d grin, only holding you tighter, making your heart race. He’d have plenty of witty comments, loving to see you laugh as your cheeks were flushed from the exercise, and maybe you two could sneak in a few flirtatious whispers. He loved how small you were in his arms, and sometimes he'd make a snide comment about hoping his brother and the Riverlands court were thoroughly scandalized by the two of you.

Brynden would really only have a few dances with you before insisting you ought to partner with some younger men, and better suitors. Even if you’d pout, he’d sit down and go back to drinking and joking with his friends. However, he’d unmistakably look up and watch you, loving to see you twirl and move, and sometimes laughing to himself whenever his nephew nearly stepped on your feet. If he was feeling particularly bold and had plenty of drink, he’d swoop you up for the last dance, insisting to your partner that you were in good hands - and really, it was hard to argue with such a man, especially when he was already whisking you away.

At the end of the evening, he always gave you a “proper” kiss on the hand, which you know he wasn’t taking seriously at all, as he'd often give you a wink or would scoff at anyone staring. You’d kiss him on the cheek in return.

Once the guests were turning to their rooms, Brynden would find you, pulling you into an empty hall to give you a proper kiss, grumbling about damned propriety. You'd laugh softly as you guided him to your room, though he'd insist on carrying you, delighting in how you'd hold onto him.

OBERYN MARTELL

Oberyn vastly preferred the galas in Dorne, which had both livelier music and dance. As much as he enjoyed causing a little ruckus or scandal here and there at typical galas, for the most part, they uninterested him.

He ended up attending one, and he was quite ready to leave and find himself amongst far more interesting company. Then, he spotted you just in time, and he wondered where such a beautiful and graceful gem had been hiding all along. Surely he had to have heard of you, and when he realized he hadn't, he would make sure you knew of him.

He more or less whisked you from his partner and pulled you into a dance full of energy, and he was delighted as you met his unpredictable steps. He'd flirt shamelessly, asking all about you, and if you'd be interested in meeting him in a … less formal setting. There would be endless gossip on you and the Dornish prince, but you didn't care, and danced the rest of the night with Oberyn. It was obvious he loved dancing as much as you did, and he made for a wonderful partner.

You attended a gala at Dorne for his brother's birthday, and Oberyn couldn't believe his luck you that were there. He pulled you into his arms at once, bringing you close and instructing you in the more sensual Dornish dances that most of Westeros was too scandalized by. If you would have him, he'd want you to be his paramour by the end of the night.

Oberyn liked to watch you at galas, and how you adapted so well to other partners and enjoyed every song, not taking a moment to rest. It was painfully obvious how taken he was with you by the way he’d smile in your direction, and when you two danced, you seemed lost in your own world. In the evenings, he’d do his utmost to spoil you and soothe your sore legs, praising your grace and movement the entire time.

YARA GREYJOY

As hard and bitter as the Iron Islands were, they liked loud music and good drink as well as any place in the Seven Kingdoms. Sometimes a tavern would just be full of both, and a great party would carry on into the night. You loved partaking in these, losing yourself in the music and singing along with the old sea shanties, even if you had plenty of hands to slap away. You didn’t let a bunch of foolish, drunk men ruin your fun.

Yara had seen you plenty of times before, and of course you knew her. She’d sit back with a drink and watch you sway your hips to the beat, and you’d give her a smirk or a wink in return. You were patient, she was not - eventually, she’d finish off her drink, stand up, shove off whatever man was hovering around you and bring you close to her.

You loved teasing the Greyjoy captain, often saying things like “My, haven’t we met before?”. Sometimes she played into it with you, other times she just hovered close to your ear and responded, “You know exactly who I am.”

You could tell Yara wanted to see you at times other than this, by the way she’d talk of you two ‘touring’ her ship’s quarters or where she might find you again, but you liked to keep her on her toes.

PETYR BAELISH

When Petyr asked you to dance with his disarming smile, you didn’t realize what you were in for. He was an absolute natural, holding you and leading you with expertise. He moved quickly, forcing you to keep up, but you loved the challenge. Fast songs that most people would sit out for were no problem for him, and he even had several sweet compliments for you, or playfully traded a few rumors he’d heard about you and some lord, secretly hoping you’d dispel them.

As you complimented him on his dancing, stating he was a natural, he’d brush it off with false modesty and insist he just practiced… but you knew from that prideful smirk that he was glad to impress you. He especially loved seeing you flushed and breathing heavily after several dances with him, imagining you with the same face in a much different setting.

If you were stuck with a particularly boring or sleazy partner, he’d time it perfectly, swooping in to rescue you right when you were at your wit’s end. With his usual charisma, he’d tell them you were needed, perhaps giving a swift insult to them in the same breath. Sometimes he’d hint that you were already involved with someone else, and would be delighted if you wouldn’t correct him.

The other side of Petyr would come out if you were having fun with other men, laughing along with their jokes or enjoying their dancing. It wasn’t that they were men specifically, but they were lords, rich lords with far more money and lands than he had. At that moment, he’d wait again, taking you in his arms once you were free. His usual quick step and cadence would seem slower, more deliberate, as he’d bring you closer to him. He’d be smiling, but he’d whisper all the things he could give you, how much better he was than them, and how they’d all hurt you anyway.

BERIC DONDARRION

Sometimes around the campfire with the Brotherhood, they burst into song and drunkenly dance along. You often felt a little out of place with them, even if you believed in them, as you were a highborn lady. They began singing a song you were familiar with, and since you had a few drinks yourself, you pulled Beric up with you, asking for a dance. He surprised you with properly holding your waist and hand, and you remembered he was a lord before this.

The men began to whistle and holler as you two attempted a waltz, but eventually it came back to you and you guided him. He laughed, as he had mostly forgotten, and cooed about how cute and lovely you looked. Eventually you slipped a bit and he caught you, picked you up and sat you back down with him, giving you plenty of kisses and holding him to you. You teased him, saying you wanted to keep dancing, and he promised he’d join you anytime you wanted one.

He knows you left behind a lot to join the Brotherhood, and as much as you say you love him, he still sometimes worries and just wants you to be happy. So he’s sees no problem in indulging in your dancing and singing, and often gets overwhelmed with how precious you are during those times.

Since he learned how much you enjoyed it, sometimes he’d surprise you, scooping you up and pulling you into a dance. Beric adored hearing you laugh with happiness, and he thought you looked especially pretty when two danced around the fire. Sometimes you’d jokingly teach his men how to dance ‘proper’, and even though they were playing around, Beric would get a little forlorn and eventually pull you back to him.

TORMUND GIANTSBANE

When you tried explaining to Tormund what galas and dancing in the South was like, he’d be quite confused, not understanding the point of it, but he just loved to hear you talk and describe it. Eventually he’d ask for a demonstration, and since you two were alone, you’d sigh and give it a try. “Well, it would be a bit easier to show you if I had another person-”

Instantly he’d stand up, and you’d laugh at his enthusiasm. You’d take his hands and guide him, rolling your eyes at his whistling when he grasps your waist and instantly brings you close to him. You try to attempt a few steps, but he’s having so much fun holding onto you and peppering you with kisses that you just laugh and let him.

He’d try to show you some wildling dances he’s picked up, although they’re few and far between, and mostly ceremonial. Again, he’d have so much fun watching you that he’d get distracted and just want to hold you.

At some point, when you’d all be gathered around a fire, someone brought up galas. You jokingly danced with Jon, who could somewhat remember the steps, and Tormund suddenly felt a little jealous. He got between the two of you, again holding to you and bringing you to his lap. He’d want to try it again, although he’d be quite drunk and would just end up holding you to him and swaying. You’d give him several kisses, all while whispering what sort of dresses you’d wear for him and how you two would dance. More than once you two would’ve been told to get a room.

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redteabaron · 4 years ago

Text

The three gods and their lots - (three heads of the dragon)

Contains meta below the cut as well as possible interpretations and theories and speculation. I feel like I should also add a disclaimer that no, I don’t think Targaryens are gods incarnate, this is just examining mythological aspects in their stories and characters and finding commonalities. (I only respect one mortal turning into a god and that is Bran)

The major three gods of the Greek pantheon were: Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. They drew lots and shared dominion over the world - Zeus was god of the sky and king of the gods, Poseidon was god of the sea, and Hades was the god of the Underworld. Three dominions, three gods.

“The dragon has three heads.” - Daenerys IV, ACOK

Aegon/Zeus

“I have. Why should I go running to my aunt as if I were a beggar? My claim is better than her own. Let her come to me...in Westeros.” - Aegon, The Lost Lord, ADWD

The lesson began with languages. Young Griff spoke the Common Tongue as if he had been born to it, and was fluent in High Valyrian, the low dialects of Pentos, Tyrosh, Myr, and Lys, and the trade talk of sailors. … Geometry followed languages. There the boy was less adroit, but Haldon was a patient teacher…” - Tyrion IV, ADWD

“...Yandry said we ought to throw you back, but the lad forbade it.”

The prince. - Tyrion VI, ADWD

Upon his birth, Zeus had to be spirited away from his father, Cronus, who had swallowed his siblings and hidden so he could escape the fate of his siblings. He would later grow, revolt against his father, and regurgitate his siblings. After drawing lots, Zeus would be given dominion over the sky and be named king of the gods.

Zeus was affiliated with protection, authority, righteous rule, battle, and justice. He was considered a fair protector and ruler, but not above petty jealousy or anger (or amorousness).

Aegon, in what little we have seen from him, is actually groomed from a young age to rule. He doesn’t have the hands-on experiences several other characters are thusly put through in the books, but it is very clear he knows what is expected of him, has the knowledge required for the position, and has a good claim to the throne - one that is seemingly preordained, as Zeus’s was foretold before his father swallowed his children.

Aegon’s connection to the red comet seen on the day of his birth can be loosely traced to Zeus’s mastery over the sky itself (where the sky reflects a point of significance to both Zeus’s temper or demands, so did Aegon’s birth seemingly coincide with the prophecy of the prince that was promised).

“Young Griff”/Aegon had similarly been spirited away as Zeus had during a time of catastrophe when his claim would threaten another (where instead of a stone wrapped in swaddling, Aegon’s escape was tendered by Varys switching him with another baby) and raised in secrecy, despite being the rightful heir of a kingdom. It’s not Cronus he was hidden from or his actual father, but Robert Baratheon who is hellbent on wiping out the entire line of Targaryens, even agreeing to Tywin’s methods (whether or not he ordered the Mountain to do what he did to Elia and the children doesn’t matter; he was the Mountain’s lord, and so at best he just insinuated ‘do what you want’ very well knowing what Gregor was like). Not so different from Cronus, who, desperate to keep his power, swallowed all of his children.

In text he’s shown to be a little impatient in his desire to be taken seriously and not be coddled by Griff (but honestly he’s 16 and every teenager everywhere in the history of anybody can be impatient and a little overdramatic; Tyrion is briefly reminded of Joffrey when Aegon throws a tantrum over cyvasse, but Tyrion is shown to not like a lot of people for various reasons, so). However, he has a fantastic grip on his studies, in particular language and history, and we can infer that he has an interest in ruling that goes well beyond ‘it sounds like fun’ (Robert Baratheon’s quote that he never felt so alive as when he was winning the war, and never so dead after it was won comes to mind), at least from what we know from Varys and Griff, and a bit from Tyrion.

But aside from the impatience we see from him, he shows compassion and an unwillingness to forget kindness when he refuses to let Tyrion drown after Tyrion saves him from a stone-man. From the Tyrion chapters in ADWD, we see Aegon laugh quite freely, is at ease among people of a different station from him; we actually get the idea that even if he can be a little immature, he shows a lot of promise for rule and justice.

One of the more interesting connections between he and Zeus is the fact that there is some debate as to whether Zeus is the youngest or the oldest of his siblings since he was never swallowed by his father (who technically, after he regurgitated them, also gave ‘birth’ to the swallowed siblings) - and there is understandable debate as to whether Aegon is really Aegon. It could go either way; they are Schrödinger's brother and represent a puzzle, a possible paradox (I do actually believe Aegon is the real deal; if Ned can smuggle out a secret-baby from a tower across a battlefield with only his buddy from the swamps, Varys could certainly have arranged a switch).

And associating Aegon with justice, imo, isn’t a stretch - particularly when we’ll get to see him gain some traction outside of Jon Connington’s influence (who just likes to hate on the Martells because he’s a Rhaegar fanboy don’t @ me) and we see him meet Arianne. Jon C only sees Rhaegar in Aegon because all Jon C can ever see is Rhaegar; once we move beyond Jon C’s immediate and constant influence over Aegon (and him trying to shape him as Rhaegar 2.0) we’ll see Aegon have the opportunity to connect directly with his Martell side. I believe there’s a good chance we’ll see Aegon seek out, and speak about it, justice for his mother and sibling especially given that he’ll have a positive Martell influence at his side. We just haven’t had the opportunity yet. (And Zeus was always associated with righteous authority and justice).

It’s not a huge hint, but there is also the connection Zeus has with gryphons; in a translation of Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus, Prometheus has a warning for Io “Beware of the sharp-beaked hounds of Zeus that do not bark, gryphons”. Gryphons/griffins are also said to pull Zeus’s chariots. Jon C is undoubtedly the guard dog that stands ready at Aegon’s side and manages to ‘carry’ him in a sense to Griffin’s Roost (poor influence on him notwithstanding, I can’t really cast aside the fact that he is loyal to Aegon, regardless of the reasons why).

Admittedly, Aegon is definitely much milder than Zeus with his flaws microscopic compared to the king of gods, but I think a lot of mythology references aren’t word-for-word, and in asoiaf they sometimes pull through less obviously. Casting Aegon as Zeus works specifically for this because of the rule of three, and who I ended up going with for the other two in this meta/theory.

Zeus was not without his share of flaws and while he was king of the gods, his rule never went unchallenged - chief amongst them to instigate things was Poseidon. Aegon similarly won’t be unchallenged for it.

Daenerys/Poseidon

“The Dothraki sea,” Ser Jorah Mormont said as he reined to a halt beside her on the top of the ridge. Beneath them, the plain stretched out immense and empty, a vast flat expanse that reached to the distant horizon and beyond. It was a sea, Dany thought. - Daenerys III, AGOT

“...I shall fear the Dothraki the day they teach their horses to run on water.” - Ned, Eddard VIII AGOT

The horse seemed to know her moods, as if they shared a single mind...The Dothraki were a hard and unsentimental people, and it was not their custom to name their animals, so Dany thought of her only as the silver. She had never loved anything so much. - Daenerys III AGOT

“...I know that somewhere upon the grass, her dragons hatched, and so did she. I know she is proud. How not? What else was left her but pride? I know she is strong. How not? The Dothraki despise weakness. If Daenerys had been weak, she would have perished with Viserys. I know she is fierce. Astapor, Yunkai and Meereen are proof enough of that. She has survived assassins and conspiracies and fell sorceries, grieved for a brother and a husband and a son, trod the cities of the slavers to dust beneath her dainty sandaled feet.” - Tyrion VI, ADWD

Poseidon was lord of horses, god of the sea (and all that it entailed). Upon drawing his lot, he envied Zeus his position as rightful king and challenged him for it several times (conspiring with his siblings at some points), and would often needle his sibling. He was a key deity to pray to for protection, mostly travelers and sailors. He was associated with the sea, storms, earthquakes, and horses. In some stories, he too was smuggled away from Cronus, in others, he was swallowed like his siblings.

Poseidon’s temperament was known to reflect the sea and storms; he was unruly and seen as a rebel against authority that existed both in the divine realm and the mortal realm. Him being lord of the sea, storms, earthquakes, and horses, reflects a wilder nature.

While Aegon is seen as the rightful heir to the iron throne (and consequently has the Golden Company with him, lending a further air of credibility to his right since the GC are ‘honorable’) and has a shared mastery of the sky with Zeus (referring to the day of his birth and its connection to the red comet), Dany has been ‘given’ domain over the sea. The Dothraki sea, at any rate, and the Dothraki themselves (who are also known as horselords). While her temperament hasn’t shown itself to quite the extreme Poseidon’s has shown in his tales, she has a connection to the foreshadowing of a storm, of bringing a storm (her name, the day of her birth, repeated connection with the unruliness of her largest dragon Drogon, and indications of her possibly forming an alliance with Euron Greyjoy in the future etc).

No squall could frighten Dany, though. Daenerys Stormborn, she was called, for she had come howling into the world on distant Dragonstone as the greatest storm in the memory of Westeros howled outside, a storm so fierce that it rippled gargoyles from the castle walls and smashed her father’s fleet to kindling. - Daenerys I, ASOS

It’s an interesting connection that Dany has with the sea and horses, imo. She’s shown to love the freedom of the sea, of sailing, and she loves horses. Both are associated with freedom to travel and journey, as we see her ecstasy on the back of Drogon flight gives her a similar feeling. It is, I think, reflecting the fact that she isn’t shown to enjoy ruling, but she does enjoy power and victory (and conquering although it’s not so cartoonishly overt). The fact that Ned says there’s nothing to fear so long as the Dothraki never learn how to cross the Narrow Sea on their horses was setting up that they will ‘learn’.

Dany, cast under Poseidon, as lord of horses and the sea (and journeying), gives them that “opportunity” (one they don’t want or need, desperately).

While all the gods of the pantheon were guilty of petty meddling and warring with each other and having rivalries, Poseidon was infamous for having disputes with other gods for supremacy and control of other countries. At once point, when Athens chose to follow Athena over him, he flooded them in his outage. Some believed that his anger roused storms, caused earthquakes, and floods. (Again, he was far from the only god to do petty things like this, but he was held up as the one who was infamous for it even as he was also viewed as a protector).

Dany doesn’t summon any of those things, but there is a buildup of her anger/frustration in the books. Her justice is biased (to say nothing of her hypocrisy in dealing with slavery, in one breath claiming it is abominable, in the next allowing it to happen and partaking a portion of the profit just as the slavers she had ousted did) when she corrects herself to demand that the wineseller’s daughters be questioned more harshly, rather than gently (implying there is torture to follow in the interrogation).

We see that temper rear its head when she burns Mirri, a victim of the Dothraki who was taken as a slave after being assaulted a number of times, after Drogo dies, when Jorah’s duplicity is revealed to her and she sends he and Barristan into the sewers hoping they’ll die, etc, (not necessarily to say her anger in some of these moments isn’t warranted, but gradually over the course of the books, her frustration becomes more obvious and her solutions bloodier and less focused).

Poseidon, despite having his own dominion and having drawn the lot for the sea, challenges Zeus for his. He loses, but it isn’t the only time he challenges Zeus, or any other gods, at times enacting terrible vengeance on them or their favored humans.

Dany and Aegon meeting is pretty inevitable, but there is foreshadowing that they will be at odds. Maybe they’ll meet with the united idea that the Lannisters/Baratheons have to face justice for what was done, but Dany’s idea of a legacy is wrapped up only in the legacy of the Targaryens, and she refuses to consider any other elements that occurred during the Rebellion (her father going mad, why the Starks and Baratheons rebelled, what Rhaegar was at fault for, etc). Aegon at least is implied to listen to Tyrion - he isn’t only blinded by what Jon C undoubtedly has told him - meaning he’ll likely hear Arianne out too, and Jon Snow. Dany has one truth, passed down from Viserys, one legacy.

Like Poseidon, Dany already isn’t satisfied with her lot, warring over other countries (or conquest, claiming Meereen for her own after Astapor falls to the butcher). She will challenge Aegon for a lot that belongs to him, but I believe that unlike Poseidon, she’ll actually win against him.

Jon/Hades

Casting Jon as Hades is something I’ve already written about in this meta, so this is just a summary with bits added on.

When I compared Jon to Hades, I also compared the Night’s Watch being the place when men went and died, metaphorically, they died in the eyes of the realm (no wife, no sons, no land, no glory, etc). I believe that Jon is being groomed for rule in a different way, that is, holding domain over the condemned or forgotten.

When Aegon and Dany inevitably clash over the throne, the aftermath is going to look like a hellscape. King’s Landing is repeated through the text to be the seat of power, the center of Westeros, multiple times, and with another Dance building up, I think, leads to foreshadowing that it’ll be ruined or on the brink of ruin at the end. It’ll still need someone to rule it, whether through the infant stages of an elective monarchy (it sounds like they’ll need something more than that or it’ll just invite more chaos as though rule can only be achieved through conquest of some kind, particularly for a monarchy) or otherwise.

Jon has already fallen into an unenviable position. Sure, he gets to be Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch - an order that vows to remain at the Wall, against a horde of undead, with no support besides Stannis, with ‘dead’ men as his subjects.

Some myths meld Zeus and Hades into the same being existing on different plains. Hades is also known as “Other Zeus” or “Infernal Zeus”; here, where Zeus is the god of living mortals, Hades is the god of the dead souls.

Aegon is meant to take the Iron Throne and be the ruler over the Seven Kingdoms, in King’s Landing, a place of power, wealth, bounty from other kingdoms, etc. Dany will be his end in the Dance of Dragons and turn that bounty, or its possibility, into a wasteland. I don’t doubt people will still be alive, but it’ll be a place of ruins, and so will quite a few other places. I think Jon will likely kill Dany after the fact, for kinslaying and being a threat to the north and the realm, and thereby becoming a kinslayer himself.

The gods of Westeros punish kinslaying. Jon, at this point of finding his family and being murdered for being Lord Commander and spending time under threat with the free folk (even if they do get along now) will probably just want to go home. Punishment for kinslaying will be for him to hold another position no one wants; the throne. Where when Aegon is set to take it, the kingdoms are in chaos, he’ll seem like a bright spot with hope, we might see him pay attention to food issues, the chaos, logistics, etc. And then he dies. And then Dany dies. And all that’s left are the survivors - those seemingly forgotten and condemned to this place afflicted by war and famine -, and Jon. His punishment for kinslaying (and maybe making mistakes with Dany) will not be able to go home, or be made to take up a post at the Watch; he’s condemned, once again, to the people who’ll seem more dead than alive after everything that’s occurred.

Jon’s duty was, and will continue to be, to the condemned.

#jon snow #aegon vi targaryen #anti daenerys #anti daenerys targaryen #jon snow endgame #the targaryens are a greek tragedy and a comedy #the targs are all of the greek tragedies and comedies at once #king's landing will be a mess #good thing bran is going to be the god-king of spring #aegon in this is meant to be the promise to the living that there'll be a stop to the ruin and chaos #him dying means that jon is left with a ruin no one wants and is condemned to take it for the crime of kinslaying #not fully comprehensive #if i did that it'd be too long lbr

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starksinthenorth · 5 years ago

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Could you write a Jonerys moment from before the battle that's not them brooding or angsty but just having fun?

Meeting the Family

Pairing: Jon x Dany Rating: G

Read it on AO3.

"Do you have a moment?” Jon asks, turning to Dany as the lords clear out after the latest battle meeting. “I’d like you to meet someone.”

She glances over her shoulder at Tyrion, Varys, and Jorah, her advisors all waiting to discuss their thoughts with her. When Dany looks to him again, Jon’s face holds a half-grin. Her eyes glitter with a buried laugh. “Alright. My lords, lets convene in an hour. I have to review some details with Lord Snow.”

Dany follows him out of the Great Hall and down a twisting, ancient passage long forgotten by many except the servants and the Stark children. As they turn a bend, finally separated from the people who watch them so carefully, Jon grabs Dany by the gloved hand and pulls her flush against him.

His lips meet hers quickly, devouring her as if this is the last kiss he will get. He wants to tangle his hands in her pristine silver braids, muss the hair enough so every one of the lords who leer at her will know that she is his. The primal instinct roars inside him, like a deeply buried dragon, and Jon just kisses her more.

Breathlessly, she pulls away and lifts her eyes to his face. “Was there truly someone you wanted me to meet, or was that just an excuse to sneak away in a diplomatic fashion?”

Jon shakes his head. “No, there is someone. But we have to go outside.”

He guides Dany through the castle and out to the courtyard, winding their way through crowded Winterfell until they’ve reached the kennels. Bitches and hounds yap at them as they pass by, but Jon does not stop like he may have in his youth. At the end of the aisle, he pushes back a gate and steps inside.

Instantly, Ghost is upon him, tackling Jon to the ground and sniffing at his face. His fat pink tongue licks along Jon’s cheeks and beard even as his paws hold Jon to the ground.

Jon laughs and pets at Ghost’s sides, ruffling the white fur there. “Yes, alright boy, you know it’s me!” With another laugh, he finally sits up and holds out a hand to Dany. “Your grace, may I introduce Ghost?”

The queen deals with dragons, but a horse-sized direwolf is another monster entirely. But she is brave as she is kind, and takes Jon’s hand with barely a second of hesitation.

“Your direwolf.” She smiles, for Jon has told her many stories of the wolf’s bravery and how he’s saved Jon’s life. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ser Ghost.”

She nods her head sagely as if bowing to another king. Ghost’s unnatural red eyes narrow as Jon brings Dany’s hand close to his nose. The wolf sniffs, first her hand then her sides then her feet, before finally looking up at her . . .

. . . and licking along Dany’s cheeks. His motions nearly knock her over, but Jon is up in an instant to catch her. Her face glows red with warmth and cheer as she crouches low to be eye-to-eye with the wolf, and her laughter rings like a thousand bells when she kisses him right back.

#jonerys #jonxdany #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #ghost #my fic #fluff

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xxcorndogxx · 4 years ago

Text

Sandor Clegane x Reader||Chapter Twenty Four

After a while, I ride on his back again. He doesn't mind. Says I'm light as a feather. Sandor stops to tie his shoe and picks me up again. Tormund approaches.

"You're the one they call "The Dog."

"Fuck off," Sandor grumbles.

"They told me you were mean."

"Damn right." I laugh.

"Quite, little dove."

"Also told me you got a soft spot for this one here." He points to me.

"Aye." Sandor nods.

"So, where you born mean or you just hate wildlings?"

"I don't give two shits about wildlings." He turns to him. "It's gingers I hate."

"Gingers are beautiful." He argues.

"We are kisses by fire, just like you." He points his finger at the scar.

Oh boy. Sandor smacks it away.

"Don't point your fucking finger at me." He grumbles.

I giggle lightly on his back. He's so sensitive about it. He walks us away form Tormund. But he follows.

"Did you trip into the fire when you were a baby?" He teases.

This isn't a good path to go down.

"I didn't trip I was pushed." He says, letting me down off his back.

"And ever since you've been mean."

I walk between him and Tormund.

"Will you fuck off?"

"I don't think you're truly mean. You have sad eyes." He does.

Sandor stops. I stand behind both of them facing each other.

"You want to suck my dick, is that it?"

"Dick?" He questions.

I giggle.

"Cock," I explain.

"Ah, dick. I like it." He says.

"I bet you do." Sandor jokes as he resumes walking.

"Nope, it's pussy for me. I have a beauty waiting for me back in Winterfell. If I ever get back there. Yellow hair, blue eyes, the tallest woman you've ever seen. Almost as tall as you."

That sounds like.. I put my hand out and stop Sandor.

"Brienne of Tarth?" I ask.

My brows furrowed.

"You know her?"

"You're with Brienne of fucking Tarth?" I ask getting in his face.

He looks down at me.

"Well, not with her yet. But I see the way she looks at me."

"How does she look at you?" Sandor asks. "Like she wants to carve you up and eat your liver?"

"You do know her." He smiles.

I turn around shaking my head.

"We've met."

I cuddled up next to Sandor's side. His arm around me. We resume walking once more. My fingers laced with Sandor's.

"I want to make babies with her. Like you and yours." He points to me.

"Don't fucking point at her either." He smacks his hand away once more.

"Think of them, great big monsters." He daydreams. "They'd conquer the world."

"How did a mad fucker like you live this long?"

"I'm good at killing people."

After a few minutes of walking my feet grow sore and my legs grow tired. I lag behind Sandor.

"Love," I call.

He stops and turns to me. I raise my arms.

"Please." I pout.

He walks back and lifts my legs around him.

"Come along now, little dove."

We stop.

"That's what I saw in the fire." He points to the mountain ahead. "A mountain like an arrowhead." He explains.

"Are you sure?" Thoros asks.

Sandor nods at him.

"We're getting close." He says.

He resumes walking. I rest in his arms with my cheek to his chest. My hand clutching the fabric his shoulders. He scoots me up and I lay my head on his shoulder. I look at the pretty boy. I motioned my finger to him. He takes one glance at Sandor and lightly shakes his head.

"Love, put me down would you?"

He gently lets me to my feet. I walk back to him.

"So, pretty boy, tell me about yourself." I smile.

"I'm Jon Snow."

"Ah Ned Starks son."

"Bastard Son." He corrects.

"Who cares, either way, you're his son." I elbow him. "I'm Lady Y/n of H/n."

"Your kingdom is the second richest in all of Westeros. Known for its beauty, be it women or clothes."

"Aye, that it is."

"How'd you end up with him." He nods to Sandor.

"Well, he always intrigued me. He mysterious large man like that how could he not. One day I was out for my evening walk with my handmaiden and I ran into a little girl who was being chased by some men. They tried to rape me but luckily my husband was in the area. He saved me, took me back to his chambers, and watched over me for the night. Ever since I've felt uneasy and afraid without him." I take a breath. "He once told me he's ride half of Westeros to protect me. He's watched over me, fed me, held me. I confessed to him after Joffrey made him spank me with his sword. He hated hurting me but I made him do it, I didn't want him to get in trouble. We found Arya after we left Kings Landing, during our travels he was almost killed. Made me leave him. But soon I found him alive. He bedded me and soon after we got married. Before we got married he found out I was with child."

"What do you think it's gonna be?"

We start to walk downhill a bit.

"Help me would you?"

I hold his arm and he guides me down. I look up and see Sandor glancing back at me.

"So, What do you think it'll be."

"Well." I huff. "Sandor says he really wants it to be a girl, says he wants to be the only man I love."

"That's a little selfish don't you think?"

"No, I think it's sweet." I pause. "He's such a hard man, but not to me. He can be so gentle and kind. When I offered myself to him the first time he said no. I was a virgin, he didn't want to hurt me, said he's not a gentle lover." I mock his deep voice. Jon laughs. "I do love him, he's a tortured soul. Being treated like a ruthless dog by everyone. He's not a dog to me."

After a while, I walk with Sandor.

"Have fun?" He asks.

"What?"

"With pretty boy." He grumbles.

"Are you jealous?" I tease.

"No."

"Sandor if I wanted a man for his looks I wouldn't have married you. You're not hideous, love, but you're not the prettiest. However, I love you because you're you, Sandor." I smile. "You're all I could ever ask for."

I kiss his gloved hand.

The wind has picked up and you can barely see in the snow. Sandor walks with his arm around me holding me close.

"Are you alright, little dove?"

"I am, love."

There's an animal in the distance.

"A bear. Big fucker." Sandor says.

"Do bears have blue eyes?" The boy says.

The man ahead comes running back and the bear catches him in his jaws. Sandor holds me tighter. We run over and his body is gone. I manage to get Sandor off of me despite his protests.

"I can handle myself damn it!" I fuss.

We draw our swords. We all look for the bear. We stand in a defensive circle. Finally, the bear comes crashing in attacking. Sandor takes the opportunity to move me behind him. The fire priest and Beric set their swords ablaze. They pursue the bear and Beric sets it on fire. The bear turns to us. Sandor doesn't move. I look between him and the bear. I take a deep breath and move past him. I get a good stab in him before he knocks me down. I do my best to block his teeth with my sword. His jaw clenched around the blade. Tormund charges and swings at him. The bear now turning to him. He knocks Tormund over and turns back to me. Shit. I cry out in frustration as he clamps his mouth around my blade once more. I struggle the best I can.

"Sandor!" I cry.

The realization hits him that he needs to save me. I think he was shocked by the fire. I cry out in fear as the bear rips the sword away tossing it aside. His teeth lock into my coat, cutting into my chest as he moves his head side to side dragging me across the ground with him. I swat and kick at the bear as he does. Jorah rushes past Sandor, Sandor pushes past him, taking the glass from his hands. The bear lifts its head and opens wide to take a bite out of me. Sandor plunges the dragon glass into the bear. It cries in pain and falls. Sandor quickly picks me up off the ground. His hand brushing over my chest.

"I'm so sorry, little dove."

"It's alright, I'm okay." I place a hand on his face. "You saved me, better late than never." I smile.

He overcame his fear for me. The men have him set me down. The move to open the fabric ripped over my chest.

"Hey," Sandor shouts.

"Relax," Beric says.

It doesn't hurt but there are two gashes on my chest. Nothing serious just cuts. Not deep. Probably won't even scar. They wipe the blood. I didn't realize but the bear got Thoros. After a bit I've gotten a new shirt and layered back up we head off. Sandor carries me. He holds me so tight.

"I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have had to do that. I should have been protecting you. That should have been me."

The weather has calmed. Tormund stops us. He walks up over a little hill. We follow and look down. Men. Dead men.

They stop at the small fire we set up. This ambush is risky. We charge out to fight. John shatters the leader and the rest fall. All but one. I catch my breath as they close in on it. Tormund punches it and we capture it. It screams and Sandor places his hand over its mouth. The skin rips away from its bone and he pulls his hand back. He groans and try's to flick it off. Jon looks around.

"Jon?"

The walker cries out. He's calling, for help.

"Shit."

He bags his head. Sandor holds the walker over his shoulder. He grabs me by my hand and pulls me to him. Jon sends the boy off.

"Take Y/n." Sandor orders.

"No, I'll only slow him down," I argue.

"I'm sorry, Clegane, but she's right. We need him to get there as fast as possible. We've all seen how tired she gets." Jon defends me.

Sandor looks so conflicted. He obviously doesn't want me here with the white walkers closing in, but he doesn't want me to get left behind in the snow by the boy. He just shakes his head. We run out across the ice. The ice starts to crack and we freeze. We're not too far from the middle rock. The white walkers closing in. We run as fast as we can to the rock. The walkers following. We get to the rock and draw our swords. One of the men is taken out. He was too far behind. At some point, the walkers fall into the water. I stand by Sandor. We look out at all the chaos closing in. He's already set down the walker.

"Sandor." I gulp.

"Yes, little dove?"

"I love you."

I take his hand and squeeze it.

"I love you too."

He squeezes back. Soon enough we place our hands back on our weapons.

We stand there for ages. The sky falls dark soon. I stand with Sandor. His arm tightly around me. I shiver as he holds me.

We find ourselves all sitting together. The skylight again. This can't be a healthy environment for the baby. I sit between Sandor and Jon. I find my self resting my head on Jon. Sandor gently pulls me over to rest on his shoulder.

"Sandor," I mumble.

The walker is loud. It won't shut up. Sandor walks to it. We all stand as he kicks it. Thoros died last night. Poor bastard. Sandor kneels by him.

"They say it's one of the better ways to go," Sandor says.

Sandor takes his flask as he stands. He opens it and takes a nice swig.

"Lord of Light, show us the way," Beric says.

I elbow Sandor. He doesn't even argue against letting me take a swig. Before I can Jon pulls it from my hands. I glare at him. He just nods in apology.

"We have to burn his body."

Jon pours it over Thoros.

"We'll all be close behind him."

"Don't say that. Don't speak that reality into existence you cunt. Even now I'll still say I think we'll make it. Maybe not all of us but at least one of us." I announce.

"Unless the Lord of Light is kind enough to send us a bit of fire. It's a very real possibility."

Beric draws his sword and lights it. Sandor turns to rest his chin on my head as Beric sets his body ablaze.

"Lord of Light, come to us in our darkness, for the night is dark and full of terrors."

He extinguishes the blade in the snow. I wrap my arms around him. He does the same. He rubs his hands against my arms. Sandor holds me to his chest as we stand with Beric.

"No one else. Just us." Beric says.

"Did he do it to watch us freeze to death?"

"Careful, Beric. You lost your priest. This is your last life." Sandor warns.

"I've been waiting for the end for a long time. Maybe the Lord brought me here to find it."

"Every Lord I've ever met's been a cunt. Don't see why the Lord of Light should be any different." Sandor grumbles.

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moon-ruled-rising · 4 years ago

Text

as the rain hides the stars

read the full story on Ao3...

ii. it feels so good to be so young and have this fun and be successful

The alarm on the nightstand let out its shrill buzz, unbothered by the fact that it was silenced four times before and its patron hadn’t moved from their bed. A pale hand snuck out from the white duvet and slapped the button before pushing the covers away. The mass of white-blonde hair hidden underneath groaned.

She uncovered her body and put her feet on the floor. Shoving her hair out of her face, she winced at the sun beaming through the sheer curtains on the terrace doors.

After a quick shower, one that left her smelling like honey and lavender and much more alert, she was ready to face the world. She looked for her robe but only found a white button-up shirt draped over the bedpost. She ignored the cold tiled floor and moved straight for the walk-in closet. Her Braavosi apartment was much smaller than her apartments in the palace at King’s Landing, but it was a kind of small she appreciated.

Despite the mess in the other room, she kept her closet and all other areas in her life organized. A habit from princess training. She found her favorite pair of distressed jeans and pulled a pair of ankle boots from their resting spot on the shelf.

“Dany?” a groggy voice called from the bedroom.

“In here.” she rifled through a drawer to find a shirt she wanted to wear.

“That shirt looks great on you.”

Her latest and longest conquest, Daario leaned against the doorway, his eyes raking over her with the same hunger as last night. She shrugged his shirt off her shoulders and tossed it at him so he had at least something covering him.

She met the heir to the Tyroshi tech company in a dive bar last summer during her stay in Slaver’s Bay. They spent her semester break holed up in an expensive hotel in Tolos, spoiling each other with extravagant gifts and room service. Now they lived in the same apartment building. Considering that their fling was nearing a year old, it was time to cut him loose.

But every time she entertained the thought of ending their arrangement, it left her with a hollow heart. She decided she was having too much fun to quit and allowed herself to continue. Everything was perfect, there was no need to change.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Dany warned.

A roguish smirk grew across his handsome face, “Like what?”

She pulled the black crop tee over her head.

“Last night was fantastic,” he complimented.

Last night. They had dinner at an upscale restaurant, then went dancing at the hottest, most elite club. Then they’d stumbled back to her apartment, unable to keep their hands off each other.

“Isn’t it always?” she brushed past him to get to the bathroom.

He chuckled and followed her, leaning against the doorway again as he watched her put makeup on with amused eyes.

“So it’s like that.”

She paused applying her face serum to look at him, “Like what?”

When he didn’t respond right away she returned to her routine.

“Dany,” he sighed, “We’ve been doing this for a year.”

“And it’s been great.”

“But don’t you think it’s time we made things official.”

She froze, mid mascara stroke, to consider his words. They had been together for a while and Dany had finally graduated from University. Turning their regular meetups into something more serious was the obvious move. And Dany was scared of it.

“You know how I feel about that.”

“Yes, but we’ve already been together so long, what’s the harm? Aren’t you ready to take the next step?”

The next step involved him meeting her family and getting approval from Rhaegar for their relationship to continue under the public eye. Which meant Daario would have to come to Westeros with her. Which also meant more cameras and flashing lights and yelling reporters. They’d survived in Essos because there were fewer prying eyes, depending on where they were hiding out. But Westerosi gossipers would scrutinize their every move. To Dany, it wasn’t worth the hassle.

“I’m not.”

“Oh, come on.”

“It’s true.”

“What do you have to be so afraid of?”

“Daario, let’s say that we do want to continue this … whatever we have.” she went back to applying her mascara. “And we want to make it official. That would require a trip to Westeros, specifically King’s Landing. You’re used to the occasional paparazzi standing outside the building, but Westeros is ten times worse. Your picture will be plastered on every magazine cover from Dorne to Casterly Rock, they’ll rip you apart before you can get a word out of your mouth.”

“Dany…”

“Not to mention the fact that if we want to make this official, official, we’ll have to get a blessing from the crown. And while you do have money, you’re still Tyroshi. And since Rhaegar has to make decisions based on what’s best for his realm, and you already put a sour taste in the mouths of the citizens thanks to the tabloids, Rhaegar won’t hesitate to get rid of you.”

“Get rid of me? Dany, that's ridiculous.”

“It happened to the one before you and we didn’t even make it to Westeros.”

“You’re just being paranoid. My family has good diplomatic standing, your brother would be a fool to say no to us.”

She rubbed her lips together to properly smudge her lipstick.

“Make no mistake. My brother is many things but a fool is not one of them.”

She pecked Daario on the cheek before leaving the bedroom altogether.

“This is only the first time we’ve talked about it. Maybe breakfast would change your mind?”

“It’s nearly noon and buying me expensive food won’t change my mind. You’re not meeting my family. Good morning Jorah.”

Dany’s assigned guard was already sitting in the common room, reading the daily tabloids, his feet propped on the coffee table.

She subscribed to them purely out of spite. They were like the great Braavosi comedies of old, hilarious and bawdy. Especially with the rumors they liked to make up about the Westerosi royal in their midst.

“Good morning, Your Highness. Have any plans this morning?”

“I was supposed to meet with Missandei for brunch, but she caught an early flight home. Family emergency.”

Jorah hummed and turned the page. She saw a picture of her from last night. Daario’s arm around her shoulders and her lipstick smudged, party dress riding dangerous high on her thighs and the neckline-

“Oh dear. Rhaegar’s not going to like that,” Jorah commented.

The world stopped turning. The beautiful morning came to a screeching halt as she saw the inset and the headline.

In all of her time studying the history of the Targaryen Royal Family she’d never read anywhere about a princess suffering a nip slip. Dany was rarely embarrassed about these things, she’d spent time with the Dothraki, but her face burned and she felt nauseous. It was different when her boob was actually plastered across newstands.

Sure, she partied but she’d always been careful. She and Daario never walked home together from bars and Dany wasn’t hungover so she couldn’t have drunk enough to let the nipple escape her notice.

“Gods, I’m a dead woman.”

Daario came into the common room, fully dressed and saw Dany’s predicament.

“Nice,” he commented to the inset of her breast on the front page.

“No.” she slapped his shoulder. “Not nice. I’m screwed. Why didn’t you tell me my boob was out!”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t even remember how we got home.”

Dany sank into the couch and buried her head in her hands.

“The gossipers are already down there. A lot more than usual.”

“Your Highness, you told me to ‘fuck off and let you have fun’ so I did. Otherwise this could’ve been avoided.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled.

Daario chuckled and Dany cheeks took on a new kind of heat. Her racing heart and mind zeroing in on the one thing they could control. At least her boob would cover up the fact that she walked home with Daario. Gods, they’d been so careful not to let the world get a peak of them.

“What do you want me to do?” Daario asked, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“I want you to go back to your own apartment.”

“What?”

“I need to figure this out and I need you to not be here while I do it.”

“Dany, baby, I can help.”

“No, you can’t. Jorah…”

She heard the magazine in Jorah’s hands rustle, but all she saw was the Myrish carpet and the way her toes kneaded the plush weave.

“No need. I’m already leaving.”

She heard his heavy footsteps and the door to her apartment slamming. Then the one across the hall. Dany hated that she made him mad, but there was nothing else she could do. She didn’t need his lewd comments when it felt like her world was falling apart. He would be back around later, when he cooled off.

She wanted to scream. The urge built up in her throat and burned like authentic Dothraki liquor.

“What in the seven hells am I going to do?”

“I’m not your PR consultant but I think you should go out to your brunch and show them that you’re still well-put together. Remind them that you’re a princess, and a dragon.”

The last thing she wanted to do was show her face. She wanted to crawl back into her bed, put the covers over her head and ignore the present situation. But she was a dragon. When Aegon the Conqueror lost a battle, he didn’t retreat to Dragonstone and sulk, he got back on his horse and found a way. She was the blood of the dragon, nothing phased her.

“You’re right. I need to be a dragon. I’ll go out to brunch and then I’ll start with the damage control.”

“Maybe those should be the other way around,” Jorah suggested.

“I can eat and email at the same time. I’m a natural multi-tasker. What time do you think it is in King’s Landing?”

“Almost ten.”

Dany grabbed her purse and slipped on her boots. Leaving the apartment building was never a problem before but Sir Jorah had to stick closer than usual. She put on her sunglasses and smiled at the cameras, giving them a little wave. Their voices sounded like gibberish as she passed, the flashes only diffused by the early afternoon fog. Her favorite restaurant, The Foghouse, wasn’t too far from her apartment building.

Luckily, the restaurant was exclusive and as soon as Dany stepped through the doors she was ushered to her table on the patio that overlooked the harbor. Her usual sparkling water was waiting for her.

The waitress welcomed them in Braavosi and asked what they wanted to order. When Dany answered her with ‘the usual’, the waitress just stared at her. Dany gave her the famous, “Don’t ask me, just figure it out” look and she scurried off, fear in her eyes. She took a sip of her water in a small victory.

“Do you think it’s too early to start drinking?” Dany consulted Jorah as she looked over the wine menu.

Ser Jorah made a noise of distaste and she set the menu down.

She pulled out her phone, hunting through her contacts list for the one woman who could save her hide. Galazza Galare.

Although Galare was based out of Meereen, her career as a publicist reached further than Slaver’s Bay. She was behind the success of Dany’s last outreach trip to the area, making sure the right photos were published and bullying the publishers into only positive and glowing reviews. Of course, none of her services came free and Galazza never accepted cash if her customer had something better to offer. That was what got her a guest lecture at the University of Braavos, which gave her more interns and interest. She played the game better than Dany’s ancestors.

“Is Galazza there? It’s Daenerys,” Dany stated as soon as the dial tone ended.

The receptionist questioned her in bastard Valyrian, the growling tongue coarse against Dany’s ears. It took everything in her not to hang up.

“Targaryen. Tell her it’s an emergency and she’ll be well compensated,”

The receptionist put her through. When the other line picked up, an electronic dance beat played beneath Galazza’s greeting.

“Dany, darling, you’ve got to tell me how you do it?”

Galazza’s accented voice was almost a comfort. If there was anyone who could take care of the problem it was her.

“Don’t get me started Galazza. I just want the picture taken down. And an apology from that tabloid if you can get it.”

Fingers tapping on keys accompanied the music, “A formal statement from the publication, I can do. Getting that picture taken down when it’s already on the internet and a majority of the world has seen it will be near impossible, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“What if we did a press release and overshadowed this,” she offered, considering what Daario mentioned earlier about making their “thing” official.

It was tempting to hide away in Essos. To settle down in one of the Free Cities and start on her career as a civil rights attorney, maybe with Daario by her side. Ignoring her family drama was the most enticing part of it. But did she like Daario enough to take the next step? Sure, they'd been messing around for a while and money wouldn't be an issue but Dany couldn't help thinking that the only reason they were still together was that they were comfortable. Or was she too afraid to admit that she was willing to settle down? No, she was a woman who knew what she wanted, and right then she wanted the embarrassing photo of her down. The other issue could be resolved later.

“I don’t think there’s a way to overshadow this, it’s huge. We haven’t seen a Targaryen nude since … never. Well, there was that scandal with Deria Martell’s nude portraits from the 1800s, but she isn’t a real Targaryen and I think they proved it wasn’t really her in the painting.”

“I just don’t want to deal with Rhaegar.”

Rhaegar took after their father when it came to protecting their reputation. And Aerys wasn’t all that concerned with it either until Viserys.

He was always causing trouble, Elia said it was because he was the middle child and was jealous of the attention Dany and Rhaegar received. Not to mention losing his mother at a very young age. Starting fights, shoplifting, partying, and bringing home unfavorable women. He lashed out at Dany whenever he saw her. Once he attacked her so viciously it left scars and Aerys had them separated. It wasn’t until the year before Dany finished secondary school that Viserys’ behavior became downright terrifying.

He was out late drinking in one of the seedy bars in Flea Bottom and the combination of drugs and alcohol drove him mad. He evaded his security officer and stole a car, driving it off the cliffs at the edge of the city. King Aerys raised the banners, but his body was never found.

“I understand, darling, but it may be out of my control this time. I’ll call you back when I figure something out,” Galazza affirmed.

“Thank you so much. What do I owe you?”

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

Galazza hung up as Dany’s food arrived. Chopped eggs with fiery peppers, bacon, and a light gravy with orange slices on the side. Instead of digging in right away, she pushed it around her plate. Her appetite stolen by the events of the morning. Galazza’s answer wasn’t enough to settle Dany anxiousness and she kept glancing at her phone, waiting for the palace to call.

When she finally decided to eat a bite it tasted like cardboard. Not even the fiery peppers woke up her senses. She sighed at it instead.

“Dany…” Sir Jorah prompted.

He never called her Your Highness when he consoled her. He knew that she needed a friend.

“Galazza said that it might be impossible to get the photos removed because they’ve been replicated and spread all over the internet,” she responded.

“I’m sure everything will be fine. Galazza works hard and you’re her best client. She’ll try everything she can.”

“But what if it’s not enough?”

“Then we hope Baelish can do damage control,” Jorah joked.

Dany ended up getting her eggs to go so she could mope in her apartment. She smiled at the paps as they passed, trying her best to act as though the world wasn’t crumbling around her. How many people had seen her tit today? How many times was the picture shared and reposted?

She changed into her comfy sweats and a baggy tee shirt, her favorite fuzzy socks on her feet. Dany balled up on the couch and stared at her phone on the coffee table, willing the screen to stay black.

Part of her wanted it to ring. Maybe she would get to talk to Elia instead of Rhaegar. Hearing her sister-in-law’s soothing Dornish voice would calm her and give her comfort.

Queen Rhaella died after giving birth to Dany, so Elia took it upon herself to fill the hole when she moved to court. Even though Elia was merely engaged to Rhaegar at the time. The two have been close ever since. Dany even stepped in on babysitter duty when Elia needed her to. Despite a whole army of nannies and governesses, Elia insisted on raising her children herself, even when her duties as Queen Matrimonial took precedence.

Dany couldn’t stand the waiting. Patience wasn’t one of her virtues. She busied herself in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes and rearranging everything. Ser Jorah came in to shoo her out because she was making too much noise. So she moved to the en suite bathroom and scrubbed down the tiles and organized her makeup. She made a point of watering the plants on the terrace even though they got plenty of water sitting outside. She also wanted to move the furniture around, but Ser Jorah stopped her from doing that too.

She made them lunch. Dany wasn’t a great cook, she was decent from a certain point of view, but as long as the dish was simple she could do it. And when they were done, she cleaned the kitchen again.

Instead of finding more useless tasks to busy herself with, she balled back up on the couch to stare at the phone screen again.

When the phone began vibrating, Dany didn’t believe it. But it wasn’t Elia’s personal number, just the palace’s secure line. She slid her finger across the screen with hesitation and turned it on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Dany…”

It was Rheagar. His voice sounded disappointed. She toyed with a fuzz on her sweatpants, feeling oddly vulnerable. The last thing she wanted was Rhaegar’s disapproval.

“I’m glad you called,” she offered.

“I think we’ve both been dreading this conversation.”

Since this morning, she thought.

“Dany, I think-”

“Rhaegar, I’m really sorry. I know I messed up, but I honestly didn’t know. I was too tipsy and should’ve left the back way but if I’m being honest I didn’t think there would be so many photographers.”

“Dany, I think it’s time you came home.”

“What?”

“Besides your behavior in Essos, Elia and I think it’s time you came home. Aegon and Rhaenys ask about you a lot. They miss you.”

“They do?”

She’d only been home for two days the last time. Hardly enough time for young children to enjoy their aunt. And they crowned Dany the fun aunt because she brought them candy and gifts from Essos.

“The annual charity gala is tomorrow and we want you there. I’ve arranged for a flight early tomorrow morning so you’ll be home in enough time. You’d better be on it.”

Dany didn’t respond. She didn’t know how. Something in her yearned for Westeros but another part of her dug its stubborn heels into the ground and refused. She didn’t belong in the spotlight. The events of last night proved that.

That was why they wanted her home. So they could control her movements.

Before Dany could come up with a wiseass remark, the line clicked. Rhaegar was gone. She had to pack, he wouldn’t appreciate it if she was late.

#jonerys #jon snow x daenerys targaryen #ao3 #jonerysfanfic #jonerys fanfiction

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ser-jorah-the-andal · 5 years ago

Note

Daenerys for the headcanon thing. :)

HI! Thank you for the ask!!!! ^___^

I took a few liberties with this….

Headcanon A: realistic

She speaks up during the war council.

Inside the war room at Winterfell, Dany stood and listened to the men that should have known better devise the poorest excuse of a plan her ears have ever had the misfortune of hearing. As she listened, she felt like a pot of milk over the fire and every word out of their mouths turned the heat up.

“I will lead the Dothraki,” she heard Ser Jorah say from her left, and the pot spilled over.

Dany narrowed her eyes on him. “You will lead the Dothraki against an army of a hundred thousand?” She asked, barely containing her anger.

Before Jorah could open his mouth, she turned and faced Jon. “Are my men disposable to you? Do you think I’ve led my people across the Narrow Sea just so they could die on your frozen fields? What should the blood of my blood fight with? Where are their dragonglass araks? Am I to send them out in the fields merely to die? Have I freed the Unsullied from certain death to turn around and use them just as their Masters had?”

Jon said nothing, nor did any other man in the room.

“Come up with a better plan,” Dany said, her eyes moving across the room, “or I shall do it for you,” she spat out.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

She likes to scare people.

Her favorite victim is Tyrion. She tried scaring Grey Warm and Jorah but realized immediately that trained warriors’ first instinct is to go for their weapons and having them apologize profusely at the sight of her takes the fun away.

Tyrion, however, is not a trained warrior. The first time she jumped up at him from behind, the little man jumped out of his skin, the wine in his glass being thrown higher than his own hight, only to land back on him a moment later. Dany apologized thought tears or laughter as a very irritated and wet Tyrion admonished her, but the taste of revenge was too sweet to only have it once.

By now, Tyrion has learned to expect a scare every time he makes one of his unsavory jokes or remarks. And to his dismay, everyone is her accomplice, keeping his attention focused on them while Dany sneaks up behind him, fingers poking the side of his ribs, a growl leaving her lips.

“For fuck’s sake, Daenerys!” He says every time, once his heart leaves his throat.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

Grief catches up to her.

It’s not often, months and months can go by and she does not think of him at all, and then it happens. All of a sudden, without warning, sorrow pours over her, drowning her, making her crumble to the floor, tears filling her eyes, sobs leaving her lips without permission. Her hand goes to her belly and she can almost feel the ghost of his first kick.

She has her dragon children, and she’s thankful for them, she loves them, but it’s not the same, no matter how much she wants it to be true, no matter how she tells herself that they are her children, no matter how much she argues with anyone that dares to deny it… it’s not the same.

It’s not the same.

Dany cries alone, always alone, never allowing anyone to see her like this. If they would, they might think her mad, and this is her pain and hers alone. Each time she cries until her eyes run dry, a hand caressing her belly as if he were still inside, alive and kept safe… still waiting to be born.

Her first, her only, the one that never was.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

She finally sees what was there all along.

They were chatting about something, Dany remembers that much, but she can’t recall what exactly, for Jorah looks at her the way he always looks at her, and for the first time, she finds herself arrested by his gaze. She’s blinking and blinking as her mind grabs ahold of a thin, red thread. She’s pulling and pulling at it, rolling it into a ball of twine, and with each full circle, she is reminded of all the times he had looked at her as if she were his everything, and maybe more importantly, of how no other man has ever looked at her like that. Not Drogo, nor Daario; not Tyrion, for she knows he too is caught in her charms, and not Jon either.

Jon, the one she had chosen for herself, the one her hopes and dreams for her future rest on. Jon, her love, her lover…

She does not shy from Jorah’s eyes and for the first time, she drinks in the love and awe she finds there. Her own eyes water, for she knows she has looked at Jon like that, but the look had never been requited. Not once.

Her eyes are still on Jorah’s, as his are still on hers, and she’s not sure if a thousand years have passed or mere seconds, but she knows she couldn’t pull them away even if she wanted to. She doesn’t want to.

There’s a strange, comforting warmth radiating from her heart in all directions, and when it reaches her stomach she thinks the heat must have eclosed some sort of magical cocoons, for she can swear that butterflies are flying in a maddening dance in there.

And worse still, there’s a tiny voice inside her head, and she’s not sure if it’s hers or his, or maybe the both of them in unison, but she can hear its whispers. Where are looking for love, Daenerys? The voice asks, Can you not see that it is right here?”

The red twine unravels from her mind, and instead of falling to her feet, it swirls around the two of them, pulling her closer to him.

Dany lifts herself on the tips of her toes and leans in. As her mouth finds his, she sees that the voice was right.

#disneyprincessbuffyannesummers #jorah x daenerys #daenerys targaryen #full disclosure #the first part of this is an excerpt from a fic i'm writing #i know a little bit of a hodgepodge of stuff in that last bit #but eh

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merakiaes · 6 years ago

Text

Interesting Meetings - Edd Tollett

Pairing: Edd Tollett x reader, Sandor Clegane x reader

Requested: By @aquariusfangirl

Prompts: None

Warnings/notes: A bit of swearing, shitty writing. Some quick fluff for my baby Edd. This is a re-written version, I lost the first one because my laptop decided to be a bitch and freeze and delete my process, so it’s really rushed and bad and probably doesn’t have as much fluff as you hoped, but hopefully it’s still readable. I also made the reader a Clegane, hope that’s okay! And I’d be happy to take more requests to make up for this mess.

Wordcount: 2427

Description: You’re Sandor’s younger sister and you show up at the Wall to reunite with your brother, who forces you to stay at Castle Black while he and his band of companions go beyond the Wall, leaving you in the hands of Edd who has been left in charge. “You’re really leaving this all to me?” Edd Tollett asked his good friend Jon Snow for the third time that hour, still being unable to grasp the fact that he was leaving the responsibility of Castle Black and the wildlings in his hands.

Jon laughed softly, eyes crinkling as he took in the unsure expression that seemed to always be resting on Edd’s face. “Only for a little while. You’ll do fine.”

Edd gave him a doubting look. “It’ll be on you if you come back and this place is in flames. Just know that.”

“You’ll do fine.” Jon reassured once more, putting a hand on Edd’s shoulder and squeezing down.

“Are we going or what?” Sandor suddenly came up behind them, fur boots stomping hard on the ground to show exactly how annoyed he was. “We’ve been standing around for twenty minutes just waiting for you two girls to stop jerking each other off.” He said, motioning to Jorah, Gendry, Tormund, Thoros and Beric over by the gates with a few other wildlings.

Edd and Jon both gave him a disgusted look, Jon turning to bid his friend farewell one last time, however getting interrupted with a bang, someone yelling “Open the gate!”, followed by another bang.

Everyone’s eyes turned to look at the gates as they opened, watching as a single person on horseback entered.

Jon frowned and Edd leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Who’s that?”

Jon’s frown deepened as he watched the woman climb off her horse. “I don’t know.”

“Fucking hell.” Sandor suddenly exclaimed, starting to walk forwards. “Where the fuck have you been?”

You looked up at the sound of the familiar voice, a smirk rising to your lips as you watched your brother approach you. “Greetings, Sandor! I missed you, as well.” You held your arms out as an invitation to hug you.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Sandor repeated himself, ignoring your open arms.

You snickered, handing the reigns of your horse to some stable boy. “Here, and there.” You shrugged. “You know I don’t like to be stuck in the same place for too long.”

“I thought you were dead.” Your brother snapped, his teeth showing through his thick beard.

“I thought YOU were dead.” You said, putting on a glare to match his own.

“Almost was.”

“Pity.” You sighed.

Jon and Edd watched the scene unfold before them, and shared a glance when hearing that come out of your mouth, having a hard time figuring out if you meant it to be a pity that he had almost died, or that he hadn’t.

But you and Sandor both knew you were only fucking around.

“So.” You started walking forward. “What adventure are we going on today?” You clapped your hands together, looking around and bowing in a mocking manner to the group of people standing on the other side of the courtyard.

As you got closer to Jon and Edd, Jon took that as his cue to approach. Edd followed his lead as they walked up to the two of you, both men looking between you and Sandor with confused faces.

“Do you know her?” Jon asked Sandor once he got close enough.

You snorted, causing them all to look at you. “What, the fact that he’s talking to me isn’t clear enough for you?”

Sandor hit you upside your head, causing you to glare at him. “My sister.”

“There’s fucking two of them?” You heard a voice snicker from across the yard. Looking up, your gaze fell upon a man with an eye patch. You sent him a wink before turning back to Sandor.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “If you’d rather I go get Gregor in King’s Landing that’s no problem. I’m sure he’d love to see his baby siblings again.”

“Fuck no.” Sandor scoffed.

“Yes, that’s what I thought.” You turned to Jon, smiling brightly. “You look broody enough to be a leader. Where are we going?”

“WE, are going beyond the Wall to get one of those dead fuckers.” Sandor said before Jon had even thought about answering. “YOU, are staying here until I come back.”

“The fuck I am.” You scoffed at him. “I’m not staying in this depressed place. Annoying you is the only thing in this world that keeps me relatively occupied, what will become of me if you leave me stuck in a place like this?”

“Play with swords, bully some criminal, beat someone up. You’ll figure it out.”

“But I already do that on a daily basis.” You deadpanned.

“You’re staying here, end of discussion.” Sandor pointed a warning finger at you.

You threw your arms out in exasperation. “You didn’t even let me start one!”

“No!” Sandor yelled back. “Because if I did you wouldn’t have let me end it!”

You narrowed you eyes at him. “You’re no fun.”

Sandor looked about ready to push you off the Wall by now, and seethed to himself as he tried to control the anger you were currently making him feel.

He gave you a glare before turning to look at Jon. “Do you have any food?”

Jon cleared his throat. “In the kitchen.”

Sandor turned to look at you. “You hear that, (Y/N)? They’ve got food.” He then turned to look at Edd.

“You.” He said, catching the smaller man’s attention. “What’s your name again?”

Edd looked between Sandor and Jon in confusion, only getting a shrug in return from Jon. He turned to Sandor. “Edd.”

“Edd.” He said in a mocking voice. “Take (Y/N) to the food would you? And don’t let her out of your sight until I get back.”

You scoffed. “I’m three tears younger than you, I don’t need a babysitter.”

Sandor turned to his sister. “You’re also an irresponsible spastic who can’t sit still or keep your mouth shut for longer than five fucking minutes, and always end up stirring shit up.”

He turned to look at Edd one last time, snapping out: “Feed her, watch her, good luck.” before walking away, dragging Jon with him, not wanting to spend another minute waiting for him to say goodbye to his friend.

You picked up a small stone from the ground hurriedly, throwing it after your brother as he walked away, being careful not to hit anyone else and silently cheering yourself on when it hit him in the head.

“Stupid bitch.” You could hear Sandor cursing from afar, and you quickly grabbed Edd’s arm at that, dragging him away to avoid Sandor’s wrath.

Once you had successfully disappeared from your brother’s sight, you looked around. “Now, where is that kitchen I was promised?”

Edd cleared his throat, pointing to a door in the castle. “Right up there.”

“Great, come on.” You said, dragging him along to the staircase that would take you to your destination.

Edd fidgeted, slightly uncomfortable that you were touching him. But not the bad kind of uncomfortable, though. More like the ‘not being used to women touching him and now suddenly being touched by one like they had been married for decades’-kind of uncomfortable.

It was new, but he didn’t necessarily mind it.

“So, Edd.” You spoke, dragging out his name. “What are you here for?”

He cleared his throat, for the second time, you noticed, causing you to glance at him. “I came willingly.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you now? Why would you do that?”

Edd hesitated at that, and you noticed the tips of his ears turning a few shades redder than they had previously been thanks to the cold.

“A man told me ladies couldn’t resist a fellow in a uniform. But he left out the bit about celibacy.” He muttered, and the second the words left his mouth you couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Edd looked away, the embarrassment he was currently feeling showing it’s true color all over his neck and face.

You had never been the kind of girl who was easily embarrassed, so you also didn’t think much about the fact that things could be embarrassing for others.

You could’ve kept laughing for hours, and even if you usually wouldn’t care, you still felt something tug at your heart when seeing how truly self-conscious Edd seemed to be.

You tried your best to calm down your laughing, the task not being as easy as you had wished. But soon your laughter had died to simple chuckling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You apologized. “I think it’s really brave you signed up for this voluntarily.”

“Yeah, right.” Edd scoffed, his face slowly starting to cool off, but not entirely. “I was a horny teenager, desperate to get a woman on my arm like everyone else.”

You snickered. “You must be the only person I’ve met who weren’t aware of the Night’s Watch vows.”

Edd looked away again, causing you to smirk slightly. He didn’t seem to be a man of many words, and he seemed very easily flustered, something you were sure you would be having very fun with during your stay.

“If it makes you feel any better…” You started, stopping in your step and leaning in closer to his face. “I’ve never been with a woman either.” You smirked, before jumping over the final steps of the stairs and running ahead.

Edd had been frozen in his step by your closeness, and watched with wide eyes as you ran off.

“That doesn’t make me feel better…” He muttered to himself, but you were already gone into the kitchen.

Muttering to himself, Edd climbed the final steps slowly, hand resting lightly at the hilt at his sword to keep it from hitting his leg as he walked.

At entering the kitchen area, Edd found you sitting on a bench near the wall, feet propped up on a stool and back leaned against the cold stone, an apple and chicken leg in each hand.

How you had managed to settle so quickly he didn’t know, but he was starting to realize Sandor’s words about you being very hyperactive were probably very much true, as your feet were moving back and forth on the small chair.

“Well,” You spoke as Edd entered the room. “I was rather looking forward to go on a suicide-killing-spree-mission but I guess food is just as good as anything. And your company isn’t half bad.” You shrugged, taking a bite out of the chicken in your hand, trying to keep yourself occupied by shaking your leg.

“Sorry about the food…” Edd started. “It’s not what we’re known for.”

“Meh.” You shrugged. “It’s alright.”

An awkward silence washed over you, and you looked over at Edd to find him looking everywhere but you. You smiled in amusement. “Are you just going to stand there and inspect the tables or are you going to do your job and babysit me?”

Edd’s face flushed, causing you to raise an eyebrow at him. You couldn’t figure out if he was shy or just quiet. Probably a bit of both.

Finally, the man moved to close the distance between you and sat down beside you.

“So, Edd.” You adjusted your legs. “Where are you from?”

Edd looked at you as you focused on your chicken, inspected your face as you inspected the piece of meat. “The Vale.”

You looked up at him. “Really?”

Edd started telling you about his home, his family and the life he had left behind when joining the Night’s Watch, dropping the uncomfortable demeanor after ten minutes or so, however still being slightly awkward. But you guessed that was just the way he was.

You had finished your food and Edd had just finished telling you about his sister when you suddenly felt a shudder run through you body.

“Fucking hell, it’s cold up here, innit?” You cursed. Only showing Edd once more that you were truly your brother’s sister.

Edd jumped up at that, starting to pull at his outer layer of furs. “Here.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, no. You need it more than I do. You’re the one who has to be out there all night, after all.”

“It’s fine.” Edd smiled shyly, proceeding to remove the black, thick furs, wasting no time in wrapping them around your form.

He wasn’t much taller than you were, so the piece of clothing didn’t swallow you whole like they would if it had been Sandor’s, but it was still a little big. But warm nonetheless.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly, only now taking the time to paus running your mouth to really take a look at the man in front of you.

He wasn’t what women usually thought of as handsome, but to you he was more good-looking than most. You had never been a fan of those boyish looking lords like everyone else seemed to be. You liked your men a little rough around the edges, so to speak.

Edd moved to go back to his seat opposite you, but before he made it around the table you grabbed his wrist en pulled him down beside you.

He let out a quiet “hmpf” at the force, and hurried to put a little space between the two of you as he had fallen into you.

You snickered at how flustered he immediately got, shrugging at him when he looked at you. “Just figured I should share some of my new-found heat.”

He looked at you, and although he was now as uncomfortable as he had been at the start, he couldn’t deny the warm feeling of being a little turned on growing in his body. I mean, who wouldn’t be? A pretty girl, with a dirty mouth, once again touching him, a man who had never had any physical contact with a woman before what so ever, like they were married.

“Fucking hell.” A voice suddenly came from the doorway, causing the two of you to break out of the intense stare you had been stuck in. “I told you to watch her, not try and get in her pants.”

You noticed Edd flush up slightly, but you only smirked as you laid your eyes on your brother, using your head to nod at the man beside you. “Look at him, who do you think is doing the seducing here?”

Sandor turned to Edd, looking at him with a stern look. “I hope for your sake that cloak is the only thing you had in mind with the intention of keeping my sister warm. Or I’ll cut off your hands and balls myself.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing your back off the wall to sit straighter. “I thought you had gone.”

“We had.” Sandor huffed. “I forgot my axe.” He said, then proceeding to grab said axe from the table next to the one they were sitting at.

You snorted. “Stupid fuck.”

“Shut your cunt-mouth.” He grumbled as he turned to walk outside again.

“Oh, now you’re getting it.” You growled, grabbing a knife from inside your boot and jumping over Edd before he had a chance to react, leaving him to watch you run away with his furs still on your back, and listening to your yells and curses and your brother yelling “Go back inside, you crazy bitch!”

The way you acted with your brother told him to be scared for his life to be left alone with you for Gods know how long.

But the way you acted with him, like you were prepared to take him into your bed any second, told him to be excited.

He realized he was overall confused, because he couldn’t even make up his mind about which one of the two options he feared the most.

In conclusion, this would, to say the least, turn out to be a very interesting few days.

#game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #edd tollett #edd tollett imagine #edd tollett x reader #edd x reader #jon snow imagine #jon snow x reader #jon snow #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane imagine #sandor x reader #sandor #sandor clegane #beric dondarrion

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