#Robert baratheon x male reader

[j-k-writes]

The Lion of the Trident

Summary - After Rhaegar's defeat on The Trident, Robert and Ned must deal with the Prince's surviving forces, including Y/N Lannister.

Warnings - age gaps (Y/N is about 16/17 while Ned and Robert are 19/20), canon character death, general GOT warnings, ableist language (toward Tyrion), mentions of violence, sexual content

Y/N was awoken to the feel of frigid water pouring down on him. 

He shot up, gasping and shivering. He pushed himself further into the makeshift outdoor prison cell, covering himself further in mud. He shook his hair out as the chilled water settled deep into his bones, glaring up at the men responsible. 

“I know I stink, but that’s not quite the bath I had in mind.” Y/N’s words didn’t quite land the way he’d hoped with the shivers racking him visible to the men standing over him. 

“King Robert wishes to speak with you.” 

Y/N laughed, “King? I wasn’t aware Aerys had died?” 

The two men didn’t grant the Lannister heir with a response, grabbing his arms and dragging him to his feet. He attempted to jerk his arms free from the men’s grasp, but the days spent chained to a pole with little food and water had weakened him enough that the two men had no trouble dragging him to Robert’s tent. 

Realizing he had no choice but to let this farce take place, Y/N steeled himself holding his head high as they walked through the camp. He smiled at the jeers thrown his way, finding himself laughing at quite a few. The days of abuse, physical and verbal, he’d suffered at the hands of the usurpers were nothing compared to the years living in his father’s tight grasp. Perhaps if they set Lord Tywin in front of the young knight he’d have been more forthcoming with his information. 

Robert Baratheon looked exactly how Y/N remembered him, towering over every lord in his tent. Y/N’s eyes trailed down the Baratheon’s body, gaze settling on a fresh bandage applied around his torso. 

“Sit him down.” Ned Stark spoke, drawing Y/N’s attention away from the Stormlander. Y/N grunted as he was forced into a chair, wincing as the rough wood of the seat made contact with the bruises no doubt littering his body. The two men were dismissed, and Robert and Ned turned their full attention to Y/N. 

“While I admire the efforts, you will be getting no valuable information from me.” Y/N spoke, taking in the different reactions from the two men. Ned winced at the reminder of the Lannister’s treatment in the camp, while Robert simply frowned, scowl deepening. 

“Has Tywin Lannister declared for the Targaryens?” Robert asked, and Y/N laughed, wincing half a second later at the pain it caused him. Tywin Lannister was still holed up at Casterly Rock with Cersei and Tyrion, leaving Jamie and Y/N to fight their own battles. 

“Did you see the Lannister forces at The Trident, Robert?” 

“I saw you.” 

Y/N smiled, “And you caught me.” 

“Are you saying you were with Rhaegar’s forces against your Lord father’s wishes?” Ned asked. 

“Which answer would make you less inclined to kick me in the ribs?” Y/N asked, if the two men brought him here for information they might as well get on with it. Y/N wishes to return to bed, finding small comforts in his sleep, as fitful as it was. 

Once again, Y/N’s words made the Stark flinch. “I apologize for your treatment, it was not our intention-” 

“Save it, Ned.” Y/N spat. “I am not a boy, I know how war works. I chose the losing side, and now my fate lies in your hands. If you’re going to have me killed as a traitor I’d rather you just get on with it, perhaps the afterlife will have less mud.” 

Robert barked out a laugh, “Alright.” 

“Robert-” 

“You heard the man, Ned.” Robert said. “He is of no use to us.” 

“If he speaks true,” Robert made to interrupt, but Ned continued on ignoring his friend. “If he speaks true, Lord Tywin has not yet declared for a side. If we have his son, his heir, he may be more sympathetic to our cause.” 

Y/N scoffed, “My father has two other sons.” 

“The kingsguard and the imp?” Robert raised an eyebrow and Y/N frowned. Tyrion was a child of the House Lannister, and even that it seemed would not save him from the realms scorns. Robert was right in his statement, however, Jamie was a sworn knight of the kingsguard, and his father could not even look at his youngest son let alone declare him heir. 

“I am not just some whore who’s body you can sell.” Y/N spat. 

“The whispers I hear would say differently.” 

“What the fuck are you implying.” Y/N sneered at the same time Ned let out a choked ‘Robert’. 

Robert held his hands up in mock surrender, dropping the topic. Ned sighed, turning to Y/N, “I know we are not friends Ser Y/N, but you are a fine knight, and with you and your house’s support behind us in this war we can win.” 

“You’re already winning.” Y/N deflated, it was true. Rhaegar was dead, and from Jamie’s reports Aerys was madder than ever. The war was practically over, and Y/N Lannister had chosen the wrong side. “You do not need the support of my father or me.” 

“Would you rather die?” Robert asked, his eyes scanning the knight in a way that made him squirm in his seat. 

“If I must.” 

“You do not have to, Y/N.” Ned sighed, “Work with us to secure your father’s support and we will let you live.” 

Y/N bit his lip, sinking in on himself. He knew he had no real choice, they would not kill him no matter what he said, they wanted his father’s army too badly. He could either let himself be a prisoner or he could be an equal with the two men. 

“Fine, tell me what to do.”

Jamie had killed Aerys, Tywin had sacked the city, and now the throne was Roberts. Y/N however, instead of celebrating the victory with his father and brother, was in the chambers of Ned Stark, drunk, half naked, and pressed into the mattress. 

“Don’t you have a wife?” Y/N gasped as Ned roughly tugged at the laces of his trousers. 

“Do you ever shut up?” Ned asked, although his smile as he finally managed to undo the laces undercut any bite put into his words. 

Y/N laughed as Ned tugged his trouser down his legs, tossing them to the side. Ned looked up at the man, smiling, and Y/N took the opportunity to wrap his legs around Ned’s waist and flip them over. Ned gasped as his back hit the bed, and Y/N smiled down at him. He leaned down close to his ear, whispering, “No.” 

Ned grabbed the back of his head, roughly smashing their lips together. Y/N immediately relaxed into the Lord’s hold, allowing Ned to trace his mouth down his jaw. Y/N gasped as Ned pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone, before biting down roughly. Y/N ground his hips down roughly into Ned’s and the Stark’s grip in Y/N’s hair tightened as a low groan escaped his throat. 

“Have you ever shared a bed with a man before, Ned?” Ned paused, giving Y/N all the answers he needed. Y/N hummed, pushing Ned down into the bed. Ned stared up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly, and skin flushed a red that was sure to be unusual for a Northerner. “Let me teach you then, Lord Stark.” 

Before Y/N could move however the door to the chambers burst open and the men jumped apart. Ned, still half dressed, threw a blanket to Y/N who quickly grabbed it to cover himself. The men both looked to the door, where Robert, now King Robert, was standing, a jug of wine in hand. Robert did not seem shocked at the sight, an amused smile plastered on his face. 

“What do we have here?” Robert said, still smiling. He closed the door behind him with his foot, placing the jug of wine on the table near the door. He took a seat, “Well, don’t stop for me.” 

“Robert-” Robert held a hand up, and Ned closed his mouth. 

“Are you just going to watch us, Robert?” Y/N said, trying to keep his usual confidence, although he could feel his face burning. Ned made a noise at Y/N’s question, but Robert smiled. Y/N looked to Ned, who’s flush had deepened significantly, before turning back to Robert. “Because the Keep’s beds seem big enough to fit three.” 

Robert’s smile widened, and Ned made a noise that sounded like he was dying. On many drunken nights throughout their journey to Kingslanding Ned had confided in Y/N about he and Robert’s youth-fueled escapades, although they had never gone past sloppy kisses Ned had always wondered what it would have been like to cross the line. 

“What did you say to him to get him into your bed?” Robert said to Y/N. 

“He has gotten me into his bed.” Y/N said. “Although it took him more cups of wine than you to do so, my king.” 

Ned looked between the two men, opening his mouth, probably to ask about Y/N’s words, but Y/N stood dropping the blanket and all words died on Ned’s lips. Robert smirked, standing and stripping his extensive layers. Ned stood silently, looking between Y/N and Robert, and Y/N just placed his hand on Ned’s bare chest. 

“Get onto the bed,” He whispered to Ned, chuckling when the man stripped himself of his remaining clothing and laid down into the bed. Robert came to stand behind Y/N, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Would you like to teach him or should I?” 

“You.” Robert released the man, walking toward the head of the bed. He crawled onto the bed, coming up behind Ned. He grabbed Ned’s jaw, forcing him to look at Y/N as he approached the bed. 

“Watch and learn, Ned.”

[got-fantasy]

Eldest!Baratheon reader finally having had it with Robert after he started groping one of the maids while visiting storms end and punishing (spanking) Robert all through the night to the point his entire backside was glowing red 😋

He'd try to act tough and keep it together but seen Robert starting breaking down and sobbing about how unfair everything was. How he tries to do everything to get your attention and approval and yet you only gave him a disappointed look. Even after he took the throne.

After everything's been said you let him sleep beside you and wrap himself around you like his lifeline dependent on you.

You had planned a banquet in Storm's End, as an excuse to get all your brothers together. You hadn't seen Robert in months thanks to his duties as king, nor Stannis since he was made Lord of Dragonstone.

It was going well, everyone was having fun, smiles on there faces, but you should have known Robert would ruin it.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him groping a more than uncomfortable looking woman.

He was supposed to be a king and yet here he was harassing women. He was a married man, was he trying to make you angry?

You were fed up, if he wanted to act like a spoiled child, you were going to treat him like one. You dragged him to your chambers, he was clearly confused, not sure why you'd bring him here.

You sat on your bed and pulled Robert over your lap, discarding his trousers and breeches while he was laid on your lap.

Robert immediately knew what you were going to do, and tried to get out of your grasp, begging you to let him go.

You didn't, he needed to learn his lesson. You rested a hand on his exposed ass, before striking it roughly, putting all of your strength into it.

You did it again, and again, and again. One after another for god knows how long. He tried to put on a brave face, but it broke quickly.

He just wanted to impress you, to spend time with you, but you were always too busy for him. Tears streamed down his face at his confession, all he wanted was your attention.

His ass was left bright red, even the slightest movement hurt Robert, he would feel your punishment for days to come.

You let him spend the night in your bed, how did you not realise he felt that way? At least you knew now. You were going to make sure to be there for him from now on.

[blumenflowergelb]

Love and Soulmates (2/2)

• Yn Tyrell was a very beautiful man, Jon thought. The way his eyes shone when he caught blue butterflies and the way his curly blond hair had fallen over his face while trying to prep the butterflies to display, made Jon‘s heart warm. He wasn’t just beautiful. At times he wished to hide him in a box and never allow anybody to look at him, other times he wished to show Yn to the whole world so that they can understand how wonderful he was. Jon wasn’t stupid, he knew that most thought Yn a fool. And truth to be told it did not help that Yn was often found doing strange things. Jon will never forget the day after their wedding night Yn woke him up to search for ‘northern worms’. Jon did find this strange but still went with him and dawn had found them digging around the dirt of the Godswood. The few months of their early marriage left Jon with an impression that the Gods hated him for making him a bastard and giving him this soulmate. However overtime Jon got used to the weirdness of Yn and he even grown to love him. Now Yn‘s eccentric ways were the usual and Jon couldn’t believe that once he lived without Yn.

• They had an idyllic life, filled with adventures, love and most importantly family. Baby Rickon grew and was barely a baby anymore, Bran was climbing around as always, this time with Yn. Even Robb has grown to like Yn. It wasn’t a secret but in the beginning Robb tried to hide his dislike towards Yn as much as he could. Jon never had a feeling that Yn was bothered by it but never said anything until one day Robb and Yn got into a fight, which ended with both of them falling in the ice cold waters around Winterfell. At the time he was playing with the girls and only heard about what had happened when Luwin asked him to go to the infirmary. Jon went but he was never told what went down between Robb and Yn, only that they had made peace. To the surprise of everybody Sansa has taken Yn as well as ducks to water. It was probably because Yn liked sewing, he was very good at it, and when Lady Catelyn was not looking, he joined Sansa and Arya in the sewing circle. What nobody surprised was how much Arya loved Yn. If Yn wasn’t at Jons‘ side than he was on Arya‘s, making trouble. Even if they were bothersome and outright annoying at times, Jon couldn’t be more happier. He got a fuzzy warm feeling in his chest just thinking about Yn and the way Yn looked, made the warmth light up and burn through him. His laugh, just the way he talked made his heart burn throughout his whole body and Jon felt home at Yns‘ side. His soulmark was a reflection of his inner happiness. His compass, filled with Tyrell roses, became more meticulous. New animals appeared, for example a snail whom Yn called Joe, and even other flowers like the Flower of Ladies. It was beautiful.

• Of course, nothing goes as planned in life. Jon Arryn died of old age. He passed away silently in his room at the Red Keep, and the King wanted Jon‘s father as the new Hand. This led to Jon‘s family being separated, and now sitting at the Red Keep, looking out on the courtyard Jon felt his heart ache. He has sworn to never forget the sight of Bran and Arya winking at them, the way Lady Catelyn was ready to let her tears fall and the sad look on Robb‘s face as he held a crying Rickon. Sansa tried to look like a lady who knows her duty but Jon knew her too well. Even Yn was not capable of making her as happy as she was before. When Jon told this his father, Ned just nodded and told him that everybody has to do their duty but he will talk to Sansa.

• After the gruelling months of leaving Winterfell for the Red Keep they arrived and both Jon and Yn were sent to their room. Their room. A fact that Jon was avoiding as much as he could. They never truly shared one room, expect sometimes like when Yn was in so much ecstasy about the fuzzy cows of the North that he had fallen asleep in Jon‘s room. The only night they shared a bed intentionally was on their wedding night, but they only slept. Jon wasn’t even sure if Yn knew and understood what was supposed to happen if they shared a bed. Usually people knew about such things but Yn was not usual. Regardless Jon wasn’t interested telling Yn what was expected of them, he just layed next to Yn and tried to sleep. And now they had to share a bed again. The only difference was their age, and Jon knew that Yn was interested on certain matters. The looks of Yn did not evade him, but he was too embarrassed to talk about it. So he just went in the room, which was bigger than Jon has ever expected a room being, and sat down on one of the chairs before a window looking out on the courtyard. Yn stood there for a second but hesitantly sat down. They didn’t speak until Yn sighted and begann to talk about the future. They were to remain in the Red Keep for a moon‘s turn and then go to Highgarden for a year. After that year they could decide to either stay or go to Winterfell. There were talks of Jon getting a holdfast but nothing was certain yet. As far as Jon knew, the Lady of Highgarden already wrote Yn asking him to stay for a few years and than decide whether they are going North or not. As of now they are only going to stay for a year.

• The days in the Red Keep were very boring. Because of Jons‘ status as a bastard he couldn’t just go everywhere he wanted, especially because the Queen looked like he was the Stranger come again whenever she saw him. As Yn didn’t care to go anywhere without Jon they mostly stayed inside. On some occasions they went out of their room, like supper with Ned and Sansa but they spent every minute together. If Jon could be honest he enjoyed Yn‘s presence. He had always to say something about the strangest things that existed and whenever Jon wished for silence he stayed silent. The only time Yn‘s eyes were not on him was when Loras arrived. He was a very beautiful young man but quit arrogant too. Still Jon liked him and looked forward to seeing him again. However after staying in their rooms for half a moon turn Yn turned restless and he spoke so often about going to the city that Jon yielded. They went and Jon hated it. The smell, the people, the sights and smells were strange to him. The people were rude and truly he felt so small and unimportant. Yn tried to take him to several different places but Jon couldn’t befriend this new world. After Yn told him that he would like it overtime Jon looked very sceptical and Yn kissed him. They were behind a tavern in a little alley where only the drunken or the whores went. Yn kissed Jon like there was no tomorrow and by the time they were done Jon‘s lips were all bruised. He felt lightheaded, his blood was boiling for something more. It didn’t help that they went by a street full of scantily dressed people, and by the time they were in their room Jon was ready for anything. To his delight they did end up doing more kissing but Yn clearly did not want anything more. That night Jon slept deeper than ever.

• They repeated their outings to the city several times, but only nights. By the time dawn arrived they were in their room acting like nothing happened. Ned hasn’t remarked anything about their tired faces, only slightly nodded at Jon after their fourth night. As little Jon‘s father spoke, as much did Loras talk. He was making jokes all the time and if it didn’t include Jon too he would have found it funny. But it was more annoying than ever, particularly after Loras found a slight bruise behind Yn‘s ears. At this found his cheekiness reached a new point. Yn was clearly bothered by it, which lead him to leave his room when Loras was coming. But as always Jon had to come too. Usually they were either in the Godswood with Sansa, who took a liking to sewing with Yn under the shadows of the large brown oak tree, or they were in the library. Jon would read books about History and Yn always took books about plants and animals of the known world. Yn always took a great care of not being seen by the servants or by the people and it made Jon‘s heart warm every time. Than one day Yn wanted to go to the highest point of the Tower of the Hand. While reading he had found a species of spiders that lived very high and made webs looking like gemstones. Jon found this particular and was dubious of finding a spider like what Yn mentioned but he still went up for Yn. They deliberately choose a day where Ned would be in the tower, busy with his counsel. The walk up the stairs was long and Jon was growing to be more unsure the higher they went. Yn tried to calm him by saying they they will climb out of a window but it won’t be harder than the ones in Winterfell. When Jon asked how he knew where this window was Yn just smirked. Before Jon could repeat his question they arrived at the end of the staircase. Yn was already walking to the end of the corridor and as he was about to tell Jon something they heard the voices. Jon had to make sure he heard correctly but by the way Yn stood there he knew he has heard something. It came from behind a door, in truth it was more of a panel in the wall, that Jon couldn’t see before standing in the hallway. The voices were not speaking. They were moaning and grunting.

• Before Jon could do anything Yn was already opening the door. In that second a lot of things happened. For one a woman shrieked, than a a thud was heard and Yn looked like somebody slapped him. He took a step back and shoved Jon just out of the way as a sword descended on Yn. The next moment Jon heard a sick crunch and Yn crying out. He could smell the blood but before he could do anything Yn was already pulling him down the corridor onto the stair. He didn’t understand what was going on only that Yn was shouting for the guards and that they almost flew down the stairs. Then Yn simply collapsed while taking a step, just in time to fall on a Stark guard. He heard the guards asking what was going on but he couldn’t care less. As he crouched down to see Yn he went pale. Blood was seeping out of him in small rivers, Yn tried to say something but only the words Queen and Kingslayer were understandable. Jon‘s compass was burning and burning and his head was hurting too, and as a guard touched his shoulders he shouted at him to go up and take them. He wasn’t sure who they were but he was sure that somebody pulled a sword on Yn. The next hours went by in a haze. Jon couldn’t remember to save himself how they arrived at the maesters room, he couldn’t remember if the guard caught the perpetrators or not. But he could remember the way Yn looked and the way his blood smelt like.

• Ned Stark was sitting in one of the counsels talking about new laws to generate more money for the crown and pay of the dept when a boy came inside and told Ned that his son was with the maester because Yn Tyrell was attacked. Ned was out of the room and was running to the maester‘s chamber while asking the messenger what had happened. At hearing that Yn was attacked and was dying he let out curses but at hearing that the Queen and his brother were being held by his own guards he cursed freely. Upon arrival at Pycelle‘s chamber he saw Jon, bloodied. He went in his knees before Jon and cradled his head in his hands. He couldn’t care less that Jon was already a man, his son was looking like he bathed in blood. Two streams of tears were going down his cheeks and Ned couldn’t help himself but hug him. While trying to soothe Jon Ned looked to Jory who was standing before the door with his sword unsheathed. He looked grimm and Ned could see some splatters of blood on his hands. Before he could ask Jory what has happened, Jon begann to talk about spiders and the highest point of the tower, the voices and the sword gleaming before Yn. At this point he was crying again and he tried to hide his face between Ned‘s shoulder. Ned could hear the rest of the counsel yelling and talking and than Renly Baratheon was standing behind Ned. He has already sent for the King and for Loras Tyrell.

• It was already the Hour of the Wolf when Pycelle came out of the chamber. He signed Jon to go inside while he himself stayed out to talk with Yn‘s brother. Jon heard the door close but he only had a sight for Yn. He knew that Yn was alive but not the state he was in. And it wasn’t good. He looked ashen, his curls were matted with blood and his whole upper body was wrapped in linen. He looked awful. Jon just simply brought a chair and sat down next to Yn‘s bed. He didn’t hear anybody come in until Loras touched his shoulder. He didn’t say anything and just stared at his brother. After some time he left. At one point Jon has fallen asleep because the next time he opened his eyes it was already dawn. His father was sitting next to him, a new scar on his cheeks. Jon looked at him but before he could ask Ned told him that they found the Queen and the Kingslayer participating in an intimate relationships. Probably that was the reason why Jaime Lannister cut Yn down. The Queen and his brother were under arrest and their children were held in their rooms. The King was raging and Ned was trying to grasp the situation before it escalated. It was a big mess, and Sansa was in the middle of it. By the time Ned arrived to put the Lannister bastards under house arrest, Joffrey was already threatening to cut Sansa‘s throat. Robert was needed, who then barged in Joffrey‘s chamber and beat him up. For now Sansa was staying with the guards in the Hand‘s room but she will go back to Winterfell via ship with Arya. Letter were sent across Westeros to meet at a Great Council deciding the punishment on House Lannister and the heir of Robert Baratheon.

• Yn woke up seven nights after the attack. While he was delirious, he could understand and talk enough to tell who was in the room. A month after Yn‘s wakening the Queen and his brother were executed. Joffrey Waters was sent to serve on the Walls and his brother Tommen was to follow him after he was of age. Myrcella was sent to exile on Essos. The sister of Yn was to marry the King in a small wedding but because of the Tyrells the wedding was grander than ever. They were seventyseven courses and seventyseven option of drinks. Seven singers and seven groups of seven dancers entertained the wedding guest and Margaery was bedded the same night. Jon would have enjoyed the wedding more if Yn was in a better shape but duo to blood loss he was pale and looked very weak. The good thing was that he regained his ability to walk. Maester Pycelle was skeptical about his recovery but Yn became better and better. However against his mother wished Yn decided to go back to the North with Jon. They were to leave two days after the wedding alongside with Robb and Lady Catelyn and the guards that accompanied them from Winterfell to the wedding.

• The day they left was on one side sad on the other side happy. Jon was to see his sisters and brothers and than in two years time he would even get his own stronghold in the north. Yn was healed enough to make the journey and Robb has invited both of them to see the league lords of the North. But Jon would probably not see his father for years as he was permanently the Hand of the King. Once he was old enough he would leave his post but everything could happen. And Jons‘ stronghold was very close to the Wall, which meant that he would not see Winterfell for a long time. But at least he had Yn.

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Realm's Delight

Summary: You were the twin of the dark haired child Cersei had with Robert. While fever took your twin, you survived. You are known throughout the seven kingdom as the realm's delight. The years has passed and your younger brother Joffrey wants something you have. Sandor Clegane x Baratheon! Reader

A/n: Don't hate me. Enjoy -L

Warning: Death, murder, Joffrey is Joffrey, the angst is real af, suicide

Word Count: 12.8k

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Chapter 3

Losing Sandor felt like you were drowning in an abyss of loneliness, you felt like you were being stabbed in the chest multiple times with each breath you took. The servants grew worried when you locked yourself in your chambers. They knocked and asked if you needed something. You just shouted you needed to be alone. You were in bed, under the blankets with your face under the pillow when you heard one of the servants mention Sandor’s name. 

“He will get her.” 

“You didn’t hear. He’s Joffrey’s guard now.” The servants grew quiet and you heard them walk away from the door. You begin to ponder on what you have done to upset Sandor so much for him to leave you. Everything was going great, plans were set and you were ready to leave this wretched place. You let out a sob at the thought of your mother. She had told you men only wanted one thing from a women but Sandor was never like that. You were the first to touch him. You were the first to kiss him and you were the first to tell him that you loved him. 

You had to leave your room the next day. The servants had told you that your father requested your presence for breakfast. The servants glanced at one another as you kept quiet while they helped you dress for the day and comb your hair. You felt one of them behind you finishing a braid and placed her hands on your shoulders. 

“Look at you, princess. You look beautiful.” She told you. You look ahead at the mirror and look at yourself. She gave you a smile but you kept the same stoic expression. She had braided your hair and left a few strands to frame your face. They had picked out a light blue dress with white lace on the hem of the dress. You remained silent as you walked out of the room to meet your father. Entering the hall you came to a halt when you saw Joffrey sitting next to your father already eating. Your father sat at the head of the table, Robert’s dark eyes widened at the sight of you. Waving for you to come, you walked inside. You glance back at Joffrey and feel your heart drop at the sight of Sandor standing by the wall behind him. Sandor kept looking forward with a straight face. 

You quickly walked to your father, leaning down to kiss his pudgy cheek. Thanking one of the male servants who pulled your chair for you, you sat on the right side of your father. 

“I didn’t see you yesterday, dear.” Robert said as your plate was being served and Robert’s cup was being filled with more wine. 

“Forgive me, father. I was tired from walking around King’s Landing. I mostly slept and needed much rest. I apologize for troubling you especially during these times.” You had come up with the lie yesterday and knew if you apologized enough he would brush this over. 

“This war.” Robert said before taking a drank from his wine. 

“This war is the last thing on my mind. You are what matters.” You tried to ignore Joffrey’s face. Joffrey’s eyes grew hard and his thin lips turned into a frown at Robert’s word.

“What’s the matter?” Robert asked when he saw how down you looked. Sandor watched the servants glancing at one another waiting for your response. Robert kept his eyes on you when you didn't respond right away. “I think I'm coming down with something. Don’t feel well.” 

“Someone bring a maester.” Robert yelled at the servants. “Eat. The maids told me you haven't left your chambers yesterday.” His words were soft and you nodded looking down at the plate. 

“Probably caught something from feeding those peasants. That's what you get for being so close to those animals.” Joffrey said, stabbing his fork into his food. 

Before Robert could speak you answered your brother. “They are not animals. They are humans just like us.” 

“You have spent so much time with them. You have gone mad. Perhaps from being very close to one.” Joffrey said with a smirk. Sandor for the first time in his life, prayed. He prayed to whatever the fuck was up in the heavens to listen to him. He hoped King Robert didn’t think there was any meaning behind Joffrey’s words. The servants and knights watched as Joffrey and you glared at each other. 

“ENOUGH.” Robert shouted at Joffrey. You remained quiet thinking what he meant. Looking at Joffrey, your eyes glance up at Sandor. You wanted to cry all over again, he had his usual scowl and his eyes were hard. He couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to, he knew he would break character. He would rather be punished than have you think he didn’t love you but he couldn't have you get hurt. 

“Is there a reason why you have Sandor as your guard now?” Sandor’s heart dropped to the floor at Robert’s question. “I’m sure my sister would like to answer that.” Joffrey said, trying his best to hide his smile.

You wanted to throw the plate of food at your brother’s face. You didn't know what to say. How can you tell your father that Sandor had broken your heart after being together for years. You didn't want Sandor to be punished or worse, executed for being with you. Sandor had hurt badly but you still loved him.  Clearing your throat, you look over at your father. You told the lie you came up with. A lie that would change your life forever. 

“I think it’s time for me to get married.” Joffrey and Robert frowned. 

“I won't be able to do that. Like mother said, that d-man is always behind me.” You had refused to call Sandor a dog. You wouldn't do it even if you were angry at him for leaving you.  Joffrey leans back against his chair and gives you a glare. 

“I see.” Robert said looking unsure. You had to make sure your father believed you. For Sandor’s sake and yours. If Sandor didn't want you then you would leave King’s Landing. 

“I will write to my betrothed in Dorne and ask if he still wants our houses to be joined.” Robert gave you a look still not believing since you fought so hard to not be married. 

“This will be a good thing. Dorne's army had risen as well their weapons. Houses are sliding with your brother, father. We need the manpower. I know Dorne will keep me safe. You have done so much for me, father. Let me help you in the only way I can. I must marry.” You finished with a nod looking at Robert seriously. Joffrey was angry when Robert yelled at him but the look Robert gave you infuriated Joffrey. Robert looked proud at you. 

“Spoken well, my dear. Dorne is fortunate to have a true, strong Baratheon.” Robert gave you a smile and quickly rose up saying he will write to Drone himself about this matter. 

“Dog, let’s go.” Joffrey shouted, throwing his fork on the table after Robert left in a hurry to write the letter. Force of habit, you were about to yell at Joffrey for calling Sandor a dog but you remembered he wasn’t your guard anymore. Sandor isn’t your lover or your guard or your friend anymore. You look over when Sandor begins to walk behind Joffrey. Blinking the unshed tears away, you took a deep breath. You were alone at the table. You can feel the eyes of the servants behind you, waiting for your next move. 

“May I have wine, please?” You asked and quickly a cup was placed in front of you. A servant came beside you and leaned forward to fill your cup. 

“Thank you.” Your voice was soft as you grabbed the cup. Staring at the red liquid inside of it, you wondered why Cersei drank so much. Is this why your father drank so heavily? Both of them were unhappy with their life so they drank. No one said a word when you drank the cup completely, drank it in a hurry that it spilled from the corner of your mouth and dripped down to your dress, staining it. When you were done, you asked for another and another. They kept their silence when you stood up without touching your plate, disregarding the maester that came in. With the cup in your hand, you began to walk out of the room to your bed chambers. 

Your days were spent like that. Waking up and asking for a pitcher of wine. You stayed in your room for hours, with no human contact, just your books and wines. At night, you cried yourself to sleep. Dreams of being with Sandor and nightmares of him screaming that he never did love you woke you up. 

“Lord Baelish.” You greeted him when you opened the door of your chambers after you heard a knock. He stood outside your door with a smile and his hands clasped behind him. 

“Princess, I haven’t seen you in days. How are you doing?” 

“I’m alright.” He gives you a nod before stepping close to you. 

“We should walk in the garden, princess. I have some news.” Your eyes widened and you nodded at him. Lord Baelish waited outside with the new guard appointed to you by your father. The guard was a young man, not tall as Sandor but he had a kind face. Walking side by side with Lord Baelish and the guard a few feet behind. Lord Baelish filled you in with the war. The last battle wasn’t going well for your father, he was losing men and Dorne hasn't responded yet with his letter. 

“You wanted to know if the Hound was doing alright, correct?” Lord Baelish asked, looking over at you as you stopped in front of a bench. 

“That is right, I care for all the servants.” You said getting close to him, you didn't want him to grow suspicious on why you were so interested in Sandor. Lord Baelish froze when you placed a hand on his chest. Playing with the buttons of his shirt, you grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit with you on the bench. 

“I care for all my friends as well.” You said as you pulled Lord Baelish’s hand on your lap. His hand were so different from Sandor. Lord Baelish hands were soft and small with no evidence that he has done manual labor in his entire life. Running your fingers over his knuckles, you wished it was Sandor. Sandor’s hands were a gift from the Seven. His hands are large, fingers are thick and rough. He had scars and calluses on his hands from working and fighting. You pressed your thighs together when you remember how big they felt inside of you. The way you drooled on them when Sandor was making love to you.  

“Good princess, keep sucking on them.” You let out a deep breath and let Lord Baelish’s hand go. 

“You’re far too kind, Princess. You amaze me everyday.” You look over at him with a smile. You felt bile coming up your throat at the look he gave you. 

“Sandor is doing well. Joffrey and him visited the brothel last week. Sandor fucked a whore bloodily. He has become quite the beast since he started to guard your brother.” 

You felt an arrow being shot in your chest by his words. Sandor was at a brothel. Sandor was sleeping with another woman who wasn't you. You wanted to cry all over again. You began to wonder if Sandor had been with anyone else when he was with you. The nights you shared your bed with him, was he sharing his with another? Did those lips you love so much were on someone else's lips? 

“Lord Baelish, do forgive me. I have forgotten that my mother asked to see me before dinner. I must see her. She said it was rather important.” You rambled as you got up from the bench. 

“Farewell, my dear friend.” Lord Baelish was starstruck when you placed a kiss on his chin before walking away without waiting for his response. He kept his gaze on you, watching you walk away. 

“Princess, if he has done something. Tell me right now.” Your guard said when saw you in tears. He had taken his helmet off and kneel in front of you when you barged into your chambers in tears. 

“I swear it. I will kill him.” You look at your guard who held a concerned look on his young face.  When he was about to rise up to leave the room. You held on to his shoulder, you quickly removed your hand.

“Please don’t. Lord Baelish hasn’t done anything. He just brought me sad news.” The guard nodded before looking down at the ground. 

“I’m sorry, princess. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll help you.” Wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You glance at the guard who kept his gaze on the ground below you. 

“Thank you. What’s your name?” The guard looks up. “It’s Felix, princess.” You nodded at him. 

“Well Felix, would you like to join me for some tea?” You asked since he was so kind to you. He rose a brow at you in shock by your invite. “Or you can have some wine or ale. Whatever your choice is, it's yours.” You added just realizing now how ridiculous it is, that a knight will drink some tea. 

“Are you always this nice?” His question caught you by surprise. You noticed he was staring at you. His eyes had a pretty shade of blue, his nose and lips were thin. 

“I try to be but now I’m thinking I should change that.” Felix saw how your eyes dropped down to the ground. “You shouldn’t. There’s not enough nice people in the seven kingdoms. I’m happy that I am guarding one of them.” You smiled at his words. 

“Tea does sound good but I would prefer ale.” He told you as he rose up from the ground. 

“Then you shall have ale, Ser Felix.” 

The days went on and Ser Felix made it manageable. The servants seemed to be happy that you were talking again but once in a while they would find you staring off in the distance. Word of Sandor’s vicious attitude has gotten around the castle. Joffrey has grown to be more aggressive to the servants and to the people around him. You had refused to look at Joffrey and Sandor. It has been a few weeks and you haven’t spoken to either of them. Whenever you walked down the hallway, you kept your gaze ahead and if you happened to meet Sandor and Joffrey, you passed them like they didn’t exist. You ignored Joffrey as he taunted you while making your way with Ser Felix behind you. 

Sandor kept staring at the new guard, Ser Felix was strapping a saddle on a horse. Sandor was behind a pillar as the servants came up to Ser Felix and handed him a large satchel. Sandor knew you were going to walk again, giving food out. He felt ridiculous for being jealous that you were going with the new guard instead of him. He always went with you when doing that. Sandor thought he could handle being Joffrey’s guard. He couldn't, it took all the strength in him to not strangle the prince. He had gotten used to sitting down with you and eating meals with you but Joffrey didn’t care if he ate or rested. Joffrey would call him a dog or worse snap his fingers at him and because of it. His attitude changed more, he was more angry. 

He was furious that he was taken away from you. Furious that the new guard you had, is so close to you. Sandor had watched you and Ser Felix walking in the garden. You drank tea, while your guard drank a cup of ale. He kept updates on you, your servants were kind enough to fill him in. He felt horrible when they told him you barely ate and you weren't yourself but you were getting better now with Ser Felix. News of the prince of Drone arriving at King’s Landing had broken him. He was drinking in his new chambers that Joffrey provided him. It was half of a room now and the bed was uncomfortable. Sandor knows the prince will wed you and will take you away from here. Away from him. Joffrey had taken him to a whorehouse to celebrate the prince coming to take you away. Joffrey did it to hurt him and it did. “Go find yourself a new bitch, dog.” 

Sandor obeyed him and grabbed the nearest girl from her wrist. He didn’t look at her or asked her for her name. Sandor ignored the girl who was sitting on the bed waiting for him but he sat by the corner of the room with a cup of ale. The girl grew worried when Sandor didn’t move from his spot, he just kept staring at the ground as he drank. After an hour had passed and the girl flinched when Sandor finally rose up from his chair. The pitcher near him was empty and the sun was setting. He walked towards the bed and threw two silver coins near her.

“If they ask you, tell them I fucked you bloody. You hear me, girl? If you don’t say that. I’ll fucking kill you.” Sandor snapped at her and she nodded at him. 

There was a relieved look on her face when she realized Sandor was really not going to do anything to her. He was about to walk out the room when he froze and grabbed a dragger from his belt. The girl let out a whimper when Sandor raised the dragger. She saw Sandor slicing the bottom edge of his palm, just enough for him to bleed. She flinched when Sandor walked towards her and yelped when he pushed her back and lifted her skirt. She felt him wipe his blood on inner thighs. She pushed herself up when Sandor left the room without saying another word. Sandor walked out of the whorehouse and saw Joffrey had waited for him outside the establishment, in a carriage. He brought the window down and had a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. Sandor wanted to roll his eyes. Joffrey still hadn’t gotten used to the smell of the shit city. 

“How was your new bitch?” Joffrey asked as Sandor walked closer to him. “Tight.” Sandor answered as he signaled Stranger to come forward. He just wanted to go back to his room and be alone. He wanted to sleep because at least he’s with you in his dreams. 

Sandor watched as the new guard gave you a smile as you walked towards him, you were ready for the day. You had a light brown dress on. He left when you began to walk with the new guard. Trying to ignore the horrible gut feeling in his stomach. Few hours later he stood behind Joffrey as the prince was with his father in a council meeting. Robert was in the middle of talking when the door opened with a bang. One of the king's guards came running inside. Robert was about to yell at the guard when the guard announced something that turned Sandor’s blood cold. 

“There was a riot, your grace. The princess was giving them food when it broke out. We found her guard, he’s been killed. Ripped limb from limb. We can’t find the princess.” 

Robert rose from his seat and began to yell for every knight to search the city. “I want every house, every building searched.” He screamed as Marcella and Tommen were being comforted by Cersei. 

“Stay here, dog.” Joffrey commanded him after Robert said every available knight must go. “My pri-“ “Stay put!” Joffrey yelled at Sandor cutting hm off as he looked out the balcony. 

Sandor could hear the screams of the people as the knights barged into their homes. Flipping it inside out then leaving for the next spot. He knew the feeling in his gut was right, something bad did happened. His eyes widened when he saw Jamie Lannister and his group walking up the hill. Jamie was carrying you. You laid unconscious in his arms.  Jamie had found you after an older woman and her daughter saved you and hid you in their house. Sandor stared at the woman and her daughter as they were brought into question. They stood in the middle of the court and explained Robert what had happened. Sandor looked down to see the daughter’s feet. She wore your shoes that you had gifted her. 

“It’s the war, your grace. With barely enough food going around, they became crazy. Everything was going well. The princess was handling food when the people from flea bottom started to cut the line.” 

The woman started to tear up as she continued. “She tried her best to calm them. She didn’t want the children to get hurt. They ignored her and took her guard. She tried to help him.” 

“She cried out to them to stop as they began to beat him and started to pull his limbs.” The woman let out a deep breath. Her daughter rubbed her back for comfort.

“That’s when the riot broke out. The city split into two. Many tried to protect her, we love her, your grace” Robert stared at the woman below him as she confessed their love for you. 

“We love the Princess. Is she alright? We are all worried for her.” The woman began to cry loudly as she fell on her knees in front of the court. 

Sandor snuck into your bed chamber in the middle of the night when you haven’t woken up in two days. Robert usually left at night after spending his morning and afternoon in your room. Something changed in the drunken king after the incident with you. Robert punished the flea bottom for it, he gave rewards to anyone who knew who started the riot. Sandor shuts the door behind him carefully making his way towards you. He can hear your soft breathing. He freezes at the sight of you. You’re laying on your bed with your hands resting top on your stomach. He can see bruising on the right side of your face, they have washed you and clothed you in a nightgown. He couldn’t get rid of the sight of the light brown dress you had on earlier that day you left. It was bloody and caked with shit and dirt from the streets when they found you. 

Sandor whispers your name. He knew he shouldn’t be in your room. He shouldn’t have come here but it was killing him not seeing you. Even if you weren’t speaking to him, he at least got to see you but now since you've been hurt. He hadn’t seen you at all. Sandor touches your hand, he brings one of your hands up to his lips. Kissing it and nuzzling into your palm as he leans down. He starts to breathe heavily as he cups his face with your hand.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers as he stares down at you. Your hand falls limp and he brings it back to his face, using his other hand to keep your hand in place. Knowing the maesters should be making their rounds soon. He leans down, close to your face. The bed dips under his weight. He says your name once more and kisses you on the lips. Sandor whines as he kisses you once more. Savoring it, since it will be the last time. He hoped you would wake up in time to get healed before the prince from Dorne arrived. 

“I love you.” He whispered against your lips. Pouring everything he had left to give, he kissed you for the last time. He blinked the tears away and walked away from the bed. He gives you one last look over his shoulder before he leaves and continues to pretend that he doesn't love you. You woke up the next day and found your father sitting next to you. He had hugged you and kissed your forehead calling the maesters to come and check up on you. Your servants stood outside your chambers when Robert told you about the news of Ser Felix. 

They cover their mouth with their hands to stop themselves from crying when they hear your cries. You let out a sob after learning what happened to him. You cried in your father’s arms at the horrible news of Ser Felix's death. Robert had you tell him everything from your point of view. He was happy when your story matched the same one from the woman. Robert had forbidden you to go back to the city, he had grown close to you as the days passed and it only made Joffrey more angry to the point that Sandor had witnessed Joffrey being the true monster he is. Sandor stood outside of the prince's chambers as the prince laughed loudly while he shot a whore in the leg with his bow and arrow. Sandor disposed of the body the next day and pretended nothing happened just like Joffrey did. Sandor only saw you when the family sat together eating dinner. It was the only time when Robert wanted to be seated together. Cersei and Joffrey had gotten annoyed at the fact that Robert wanted you close to him. Sandor watched as you barely ate but you drank more and more each day. You never looked up from your plate only when your father spoke to you. He can see the fake smile you gave everyone including the servants. 

You gave the same fake smile when you were told the prince is making his way up to King’s landing. 

The castle was going crazy the following day for the arrival of the Prince from Dorne. All morning your servants waited on you, they washed you, clothed you into one of the finest dresses you were gifted. You allowed them to place a diamond necklace around your neck as they rubbed oil on your arms and legs, you tried your best to be excited like they were but you just couldn't. You tried your best to be in a good mood but nothing was working. You had nightmares every night since you woke up. Your dreams would be flooded with the sight of Ser Felix being ripped apart, you started to imagine his screams and the sound of his flesh being torn. You can still recall the pushes and the slaps you received when you tried to break the riot apart. You had called out for Sandor, you screamed his name as the riot broke out. Thinking about it now, you felt ridiculous for shouting his name.

You felt nothing even when the prince walked towards you when you entered the great hall. It was dinner and he was the first to rise up from his seat. He was tall, had brown curls on top of his head and his eyes matched his hair color. His skin was tan and it went well with the yellow mustard robe he wore. You gave him a smile as he introduced himself, while grabbing a hold of your hand. He leans down to kiss your knuckles and you glanced behind him. 

Catching Sandor’s gaze across the room, he quickly looked away and you did the same. The prince's name was Lewyn, second of his name. He sat across from you and you had to admit. He was very handsome. Speaking with Lewyn had eased your worry of not liking your husband to be. He was kind and respectful. You were surprised when he gave you his condolences about your guard, Ser Felix. Walking around the garden, he told you that he knew about the incident that had occurred. You immediately thought, he wouldn't want to join houses because of it. Your mother had screamed up a storm, telling you to stop with this excessive idea of helping the poor. 

“To be honest, I thought the stories about you were lies.” He said and you froze next to him. He turned to face you. 

“The most kind and beautiful princess to have ever lived.” You blushed hard at his words. “The stories are true and I'm happy because of it. I need a good and kind woman by my side.” For a moment you had forgotten all about what happened the last few months as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. His lips were soft and he smelled like the sun and spices. 

A celebration was in order according to Robert, House Baratheon and House Martell will be joining together. Robert had deemed that the celebration of your engagement will be the largest celebration the Seven Kingdoms will ever witness. The days passed and everyone was preparing for the celebration. The castle was being cleaned and decorated. Everyone who your father invited was coming to King's Landing. You greeted the Starks, Arryn, Greyjoy, Mormont, Tarly, Tyrell, Glover and more as they came to the celebration. Everything was overwhelming but you were grateful for Lewyn. As the days passed you grew closer to him, he never left you unattended. Walks around the gardens and eating meals together. He showed you books he had brought you about his home. The time you had a moment for yourself was at night. You stayed up staring at the ceiling as you thought about Sandor. 

You haven't seen Sandor as Joffrey was doing god knows what. You touched your lips as you remembered the dream you had. You had dreamt that Sandor had come to your room in the middle of the night and kissed you. The dream felt so real, he kissed you and told you he had loved you. Shutting your eyes you traced your lips with your fingers as you placed the other hand on your chest. You can recall his smell and his warmth. You imagine Sandor between your legs. You cupped your breasts, imagining it was Sandor’s large hands. You let out a whine as you pulled your nipple over your nightgown as you remembered the last time you were intimate with him. Your cunt clenched around the nothingness as you remembered his cock going in and out of you. Taking your hand from your lips, you bring it under the covers and under your nightgown. You moaned when you touched your clit, you whispered his name as you remembered how good his fingers felt, how good his tongue felt on your cunt. 

“Sandor!” You cry out as you slip your finger inside of you. 

The night ended and the sun rose, it was the morning of the celebration. The official announcement of your engagement. Robert wanted you to have this since your wedding will be held in Drone. Lewyn wished for you to be married in his home and you accepted it. You knew you couldn’t get married in the same room with Sandor. You were woken a bit later by your servants who came inside your chambers to get you ready. The morning seems like a blur to you, you allowed them to fawn over you. While they dressed you one of the servants gave you a note from Prince Lewyn. His words made you smile but you felt nothing. He wished you a good morrow and he will count the seconds until he gets to see you again. 

“This seems a bit too much.” You said as you stood in front of the door of the great hall while looking at the decorations hanging by the door. You were unaware of your uncles behind you. Jamie who stood with Tyrion just smiled at you.

“Is that so?” Tyrion said as he stepped near you. He was dressed in red and golden robe while Jamie wore his golden armor. Giving a warm smile to your uncles, he asked you to kneel down. You tried your best with the dress you had on. 

“You’re not like us, child.” You frowned and he continued. “I'm so happy you aren't. You're different and I pray that you will live a happy life in Drone.”

“You think I will live a happy life?” You asked him and he nodded. You don't believe him as you stood up with the help of Jamie who lent you his arm. 

“Your husband-to-be, shall be standing near your father. Just walk towards the throne.” Jamie said as the servants came in to fix the train of your dress. Jamie kissed you on the cheek and wished you good fortune. 

They handed you a bouquet of flowers as you heard the music start to play. The guards opened the doors and you looked ahead. Everyone's eyes were on you as you walked to the throne. Your hands shook but you continued on. You can see Eddard Stark along with his wife standing. They gave you a nod as the guards announced your name. Lewyn stood below the steps of the throne where your father sat. He smiled when you made eye contact with him. He was dressed in beautiful silver and white dress robes. It matched with your dress. He gives you his arm and helps you walk up the steps. 

“You're absolutely breathtaking.” He whispered to you as both of you stood in front of your father. 

Sandor watched with a heavy heart as you walked to your husband-to-be. The gown trailed behind you and the diamond necklace around your neck shined with every step you took. The guards and servants whispered amongst themselves about your appearance, calling you an angel. Robert made a speech about the houses joining together, you tried to look at the prince but your eyes wanted to look over at your family side, for you hoped to see Sandor. Lewyn leaned towards you to whisper in your ear after Robert’s speech. 

“Your father mentioned to me that you are close with the people of King’s Landing. He didn't want you walking around anymore. I was able to do something since this will be their last chance to see you.” Lewyn said as he held your hand and walked with you down the hall. 

Walking to the front doors of the castle, he gently squeezed your hand as he waved the guards to open the doors of the castle. The moment the doors opened you can hear cheering and your name being shout. You let go of his hand as you walked forward seeing the people of King’s Landing standing out of the castle. Knights were lined up as a wall, keeping the large crowd back. The people in King's Landing grew silent when you stepped closer to them. They haven’t seen you in weeks after the riot, they stood staring at you in complete awe by the way you’re dressed. A smile appeared on your face and you chuckled in shock at the amount of people who showed up. You waved at them and the silence disappear, they cheered loudly as you waved at them. They shouted the word princess over and over again as they waved their hands and arms. They threw flowers at your feet. Robert stood behind you as he watched in disbelief by how much the people loved you but that's why you were called the Realm's Delight.

It soon changed when the crowd started to push the knights back trying to get closer to you. There was a shout and the knights a few feet in front of you fell back, the crowd pushed forward. Robert yelled at the knights to keep formation. 

“PRINCESS!” You gasped when people started to run towards you. Robert pushed you behind as Jamie started to run towards the crowd. One man had managed to go under the knights and threw himself at your feet. Leywen gathered you in his arms pulling you back, you almost tripped on the train of your dress. The man was about to touch your dress when there was a rough growl and a tall frame came between you and the man. 

You watched as Sandor grabbed the man from the back of his shirt. Growling at his face, Sandor gave him a glare. “You dare to touch her.” Sandor snapped as he grabbed a hold of the man’s neck, pulling him up. The servants and the Lords and ladies gasped. 

“Sandor! Please! Stop it. Don’t hurt him.” You shouted, pushing yourself away from Leywen, reaching for Sandor’s arm.  Sandor drops the man when he feels you grab a hold of his arm. He looks at you and takes a step back. The man is gasping for air on the floor. 

“Y/n!” Cersei shouted pushing the ladies out of her way when she saw you leaning over the gasping man. 

“Are you alright?” You asked as you helped the man who still on his knees. You ignored the muttering behind you from the lords and ladies when you offered your hand to him, a commoner. 

“Get away from him.” Cersei forcefully pulled you back making you wince from her gripped. 

“Throw him away!” Cersei shouted at Sandor. He glances over at you for a second, taking in your facial expression. He looked away when Leywen walked in front of you. The prince looked over at you, taking your face in his hands. 

It was two days after the celebration when Sandor was told of the news of the war. Robert’s brother was going to attack soon again. One of Lord Varys’ spies had found out and Robert was getting ready. Sandor stood behind Joffrey when he received the news that Joffrey will be joining them as well. The blonde looked shocked by it. 

‘What do you mean?” Joffrey asked as Robert grabbed his sword. 

“You're heir to the throne and you haven't fought once in battle. Do you want to sit this out and add more fuel to what the people are saying?” Joffrey glared at his father. 

“I don't care what they have to say about me. I am heir to the iron throne and I can send men in my place.” Robert walked close to him and signaled Sandor to leave the room. He bowed and obeyed, he stood behind the door as Robert yelled at Joffrey. 

The rumors after your celebration had spread throughout the entire kingdom. A rumor that had the council worry. Sandor decided to walk to the armory of the castle. Knowing since Joffrey was going to go, he will have too as well. Sandor isn't afraid of war, he has been in them since he was kid. He looked at the swords and the shields hanging on the walls. 

“Sandor.” He turns when he hears you behind him. You were standing by the entrance. He looks away from you. “Have I angered you so much that you won't even look at me?” Sandor doesn't know what to say.

“I'm truly sorry for whatever I have done. I'm sorry.” He made no response because you were going to leave soon. The prince from Drone had gone back home to start preparing for your arrival and the wedding. You looked happy with the prince, he couldn't take that away from you. Not after he broke you, he tells himself. 

“At least look at me before I leave. I wish to see you one more time.” Sandor shuts his eyes when he feels your hand on his arm. He turns to you and looks down at you. He won't say anything but he will look at you, giving you your last wish before you leave. 

“I want to hate you.” Sandor’s eyes shot open at your words. You gave him a face and repeated it again. 

“I want to hate you. I should hate you.” You cried out slapping his chest with all your might.

“Hate me then.” Sandor said, grabbing a hold of your wrists and holding them. 

“You’re a fucking coward, you know that.” You hissed at him trying to pull away from him but he kept his grip on you tight. Sandor laughs at your face, “Coward, you say.” 

“The coward is your fucking brother.” Sandor said, making you shake your head. 

“He isn't my brother. He's my half brother. I'm nothing like him.” You snapped at him and Sandor pushed you against the wall. He released your wrists and caged you with his arms. 

“You aren't.” Sandor whispered as he stared at you. You don't flinch when he brings his hand to touch your cheek. 

“You ain't nothing like them. Not like your mother who fucks her brother. Not like your devil of a brother. You're kind. You're good, so good.” You held on to his arms as he touched your cheek, you missed his touch. 

“You bring that good to Drone, you hear me. Don’t fucking change.” Sandor tells you softly, making you frown. “I don't want to go to Drone. I want to stay here with you. You made me do this. You made me do it. I did it for you so you wouldn't get punished.” Sandor steps away from you and you quickly go to the entrance, blocking his path. 

“I did it for you because I love you, Sandor Clegane. We still have a chance. We can still run away.” Sandor looks at you with hope for a second. 

“I have to get ready for the battle. I'm going with your brother.” You looked so distraught by this news. 

“Leave with me, please. Right now.” Sandor shook his head at you. “If I leave before the battle, they will know. They will look for me. Joffrey will have my head.” 

“Joffrey has never gone to any battle before. I don't even think he knows how to swing a sword. Why is he even going?” You asked and Sandor looks at you with furrowed brows. 

“You don't know?” He asked you. “I would have thought Little Finger would have told you already.” 

“Told me what?” Sandor stared at you. “The people want you to be their queen. Not your bastard brother.” You stared at him shocked. 

“I don't understand. The realm will never accept a woman on the throne.” You told him, making him shake his head. 

“That was before, now they would rather have you on it. They want you. They have started calling you the rightful heir to the throne. You have done more than Joffrey. Your father is taking him tomorrow to the battle so the people in the realm can see him.” Sandor told you. 

“That day..” Sandor stops in mid and grabs your hand with his. “You should have seen them. Robert saw they loved you but he didn't realize how much. Then you gave your hand out to that man, to help him. A princess helping a commoner. The street started to shout your name and they called you the true heir. The rumor that Cersei and Jamie tried so hard to cover has exploded. The people started to shout bastard at the sight of Joffrey.” 

“My father doesn't believe them, though?” You asked. “ I don't know. The council suggested for him to take Joffrey. He has to do this because half of the army is on your side now.” You frowned. 

“They will serve for the true heir of the throne. A true Baratheon.” 

Sandor felt you grasp his hand and pull him closer to you. “After the battle then? I thought I could go to Drone without you but I can't. My heart refuses to leave you behind.” 

“I won’t watch you marry him.” Sandor said, making you chuckle. “I'm not marrying him. The moment I'm on the road I'm escaping.” 

Sandor frowned as you told him your plan to escape. “You're crazy. You won't survive by yourself.” 

“I only need to survive until I make it 100 miles from Winterfell. Eddard Stark has granted me safe haven until I figure out where to go.” 

“You believe him?” Sandor shouts in disbelief. “He knows of us.” Sandor is left speechless. 

“After the celebration, I was walking in the gardens. I never felt more alone that day. He found me crying, we spoke about what happened with the crowd and it just slipped out. He swore to me he wouldn't say a word. All I have to do is send a raven and he has promised to meet me halfway to escort me back to Winterfell.” 

‘If it's a trap?” Sandor asked angrily. “I don't care. As long as I'm with you.” You answered him. 

“I’ll leave you now. My offer still stands. You will make me the happiest woman if you do come with me, I’ll wait after the battle. I don't know what I have done to you. What I have said but I'm sorry and I love you. I will always love you, Sandor. If this was all just a ruse so you can get your dick wet then enjoy your whore and farewell.” 

Sandor screamed at himself as he watched you walk away. He wanted to run after you. His feet remained glued to the floor. ‘Whore?’ he asked himself. ‘What whore?’ You were the last person he's been with, your lips were the last he has kissed. Sandor manages to break free and begins to walk out of the room and down the hallway. He looks both ways in hope to see you. He's about to walk to your chambers when he hears Joffrey behind him, coming to a halt he turns to see the prince.

“Father, has lost his mind, Dog! He wants us to go tonight. Says I need the experience.” Sandor watches as Joffrey walks towards him with a frown. 

“All because of my bitch sister!” Joffrey yelled. Sandor’s jaw clenched. “This is all because of her. I hate her.” 

“The realm wants a whore who fucks second born sons sitting on the throne.” Joffrey spawned out with hatred. 

Sandor's body has been acting on its own. First holding his feet froze as you left and now his hand is resting on the hilt of his sword. He stared at Joffrey as he tightened his grip on it while Joffrey kept calling you a whore. With one swing, he can kill Joffrey and go to your room. Both of you could run away, go to Winterfell then go to Braavos. He will be free and tell you everything. He will tell you everything and he will be happy. 

Sandor wants to be happy with you. 

“Prince Joffrey!” Sandor drops his hand when Jamie comes walking towards them. “Your horse is ready. We leave now. Your father is waiting for you.” Jamie told him. 

“Very well.” Joffrey answers and signals Sandor to come with him. 

You were looking out the window when you saw your father walking to the stable. You frown when you see the knights do the same. You thought they would leaving tomorrow. You ran out of your chambers and searched for your servants. You found her looking out the balcony outside of your chambers. 

“What's happening?” You asked her and she told you Robert decided to get to the field early so they can have an advantage. 

“The rest of the army will join them at morrow.” She said before walking you back to your chambers. You drank tea that night, trying to ease the unwell feeling in your stomach. You paid no mind to it, you had to get ready to leave. You couldn't sleep that night, the thought of Sandor on the field with your half-brother. Knowing Joffrey, he would make Sandor protect him while he hides away. Packing a light bag the next morning, you grabbed the letter to Eddard Stark. Quickly walking out, you noticed your servants and the guards down the hallway were gone. How strange, it was. 

Out of breath from running, you watched as the raven flew with the letter attached to its leg. You prayed it would make it in time. Walking out of the room, you heard yelling. Making your way to the kitchen, you saw the cooks huddle together as they looked out the door. 

“What's going on?” You asked and they yelped in surprise. They greeted you with a small bow. 

“Tell me at once, what's happening?” You asked worriedly. 

“It's the other knights princess. They don't want to go! They refuse to fight with your bastard brother.” One of the cooks gasped when she let out the word bastard. 

“Forgive me, pri-” You cut her off by shaking your head. “I know, I know all about it.” You told them, making their eyes widen. 

“It's true.” You said with a nod. “But my father still needs them to win this war.” You said pushing the cooks out of the way with the small bag over your shoulder. 

You can hear them shouting for you to come back. Making your way to the stable, you saw the stable boy. You begged him to prepare a horse for you, you were in dire need to get to the rest of the knights who were refusing to go and fight. The stable boy and the cooks watched as you began to ride to the front gates of King’s Landing. 

You saw the golden armor of the King’s guard, it was Jamie second in command. He was arguing with one of the knights as they stayed still. The moment they saw you, they froze. “Princess,” the second in command bowed. 

“Why haven't they moved? The battle can be happening now and my father and Sa-” You stopped yourself, you were going to say Sandor’s name. They couldn't know why you were doing this. 

“We won't fight with that bastard Joffrey.'' One of the knights yelled and the rest cheered.   “How dare you call the heir to the throne a bastard!” Jamie’s second in command yelled. 

“He’s right.” You said and he looked over at you, shocked by what you said. You would have to tell them the truth. It was the only way to help Sandor and your father. Without them, you fear the war will be lost. Gripping the reins of the horse tightly, you took a deep breath and looked over at the knights ahead of you.

“You are all right!” You yelled with all your might. 

“Joffrey is a bastard. His father is Jaime Lannister. You won’t fight for him but I beg you to fight for me. Fight for me!” You cried out. 

“And when we win this war against Stannis, I will speak with my father. If what you say is true, you want me to be your queen. I’ll do it! I’ll be your queen and I'll rule the seven kingdoms with fairness and with just. You will no longer be hungry, no longer shall you worry about how to survive because I will be your queen. A true Baratheon will sit on the Iron Throne. Will you fight this war for me?!” 

You let out a deep breath when they shouted amongst themselves. 

“FOR THE FUTURE QUEEN!! FOR THE FUTURE QUEEN!” 

Jamie’s second in command was astounded as the knights began to get on their horses. “Will you stand by my side as we bring them to my father?” You asked him with hope he will accept. 

He nodded at you. “For our future Queen.” 

Sandor felt like he was sinking under water and his head was ringing. He didn’t see that knight coming at him. Too busy keeping Joffrey safe. His helmet was long gone, he used it to break someone's jaw when he dropped his sword.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Robert’s army should’ve been here. Stannies had decided to attack the moment they saw Robert’s army coming at dawn. Sandor felt Joffrey behind him. Jamie had shouted for the rest of the remaining king’s guard to hold their post. 

“Dog!” Joffrey’s voice echoed in his mind. 

He felt Joffrey hitting Sandor’s on the back. Sandor looked over his shoulder and grabbed Joffrey’s Valyrian steel sword from his hand and swung it across the man near him. Joffrey's mouth dropped open when Sandor completely decapitated the man’s head in one single blow. 

“JOFFREY!” Jamie yelled.  Sandor watched his back as Jamie yelled at Joffrey to go back to base. They had to retreat, they were losing men by the minute. 

“Where’s your father?” Sandor growled as he looked ahead, ready for anyone to get near with Joffrey’s sword in his hand. “I don’t know. You keep this.” Jamie said, handling Joffrey a dagger. 

“I’m not going back.” Joffrey hissed at his uncle. Jamie frowned, “There are not enough men. We have to retreat.” 

“Take him with you.” Sandor snapped at Jamie as a group of men started to head towards them. Jamie grabbed Joffrey by the neck ignoring his shouts to release him. 

Sandor can hear the galloping behind him. Sandor let out a deep breath as he relaxed his nervousness. Sandor Clegane was nervous, he didn’t think he would survive this time. The cut on his arm hurts like a bitch. His head is ringing, he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of you on a horse, the horse is standing on the far edge of a cliff across the field. 

Sandor was so busy looking at you, he didn’t see the man coming at him. Before he could see the man, a horse passed him, taking the man down. The rider had stabbed the man in the head. 

“Clegane.” Robert shouted as he rode towards him. Robert had just saved him. 

Before he could answer, there was a horn that caused them to stop for a second. Robert had sweat dripping down his forehead, blood of his enemies was dripping down his armor. He looks across the field and his dark eyes widened when he saw the other half of his army riding in. There was hope that they would win this war. In the corner of his eyes, he saw two horses standing by the cliff. He saw it was the second in command of the King’s guard and you. You’re on a white horse, staring down at the field. A smile appeared on his tired face, you, his daughter had brought his knights to him. 

They won the war because of you. Robert and his men rode back to base. He frowned when he saw Joffrey's horse standing by the King's tent. 

“Where’s my son?!” He shouted. Robert noticed the angry look on the knights' faces when Joffrey walked out of the tent. Joffrey stood still when he saw Robert getting off his horse and walking towards him. 

“Where were you? You hid?” Robert shouted. Joffrey glared about to say something when they heard the rest coming. Joffrey was seething when he saw you riding first into base with the second in command. The army you brought rode behind you. 

Robert watched as you rode near him. Without a single thought, Robert helped you get down off of your horse. The knights around you stood up from their seats. 

“I had to do it. It was the only way for them to come.” You whispered to Robert, looking at Joffrey by the tent. 

“Do what?” Robert asked, cupping your face. 

“They came here because they fought for me, father. I must tell you something and you have to believe me. Please, let’s go inside.” You said grabbing your father’s hand and tugging him to the tent. 

“What are you doing here?” Joffrey yelled as he walked towards you. “This has nothing to do with you.” You said taking a step back when you saw the craziness in his eyes. 

“Father-.” “Pleas-.” 

Robert hushed both of you as the knights began to shout amongst themselves. “Go inside. I’ll be back to discuss this matter.” Robert tells you before walking to the group of knights. 

You passed Joffrey and walked into the tent. “You just had to be here.” 

You ignored Joffrey and stood at the far end of the tent. “Just because you brought the rest of the army, you think you’re better than me?” Joffrey asked as he came to the table where the maps were laid out. 

“You’re nothing, sister. I count the days where you leave for Drone. I pray to the gods you get sick on your travels and die.” You look at Joffrey. 

“Fuck you.” You spat at him and there was a look of pure anger in his eyes. It scared you because you never saw him like this. 

“He’s dead, you know.” Joffrey said, walking around the table trying to get closer to you. 

“What?” Joffrey nods at you with a smile. “I saw that fucking dog you love so much go down. The sword was rammed in his chest.” You felt your chest tighten by Joffrey’s words. You shook your head, not believing it. Sandor was a good fighter, one of the best swordsmen in the seven kingdoms. 

“You’re lying!” You yelled and walked further away from Joffrey. 

“Then go out to the field and see him for yourself. He’s dead. He did his job to protect me. You can have him back now. I have no use for him anymore.” Joffrey lied to get that reaction he’s been craving. He smiled when he saw you crying. 

“No!” You cried as you covered your mouth. You’re about to walk out of the tent to see it for yourself. “You aren’t going anywhere.” Joffrey screamed and grabbed a hold of your arm, pulling you back inside. 

He pushed you against the table and you let out a whimper when you felt the cold steel of his dagger under your chin. 

“Tell me the truth? Is he really dead?” Joffrey just sighs at you as he pushes the tip of the dagger under your chin making you wince. He smiles when he sees he cut your skin, a trail of blood starts to run down the blade of his dagger. 

“He is dead. You want to know what his last words were?” Joffrey asked with a smile as tears ran down your face. 

“He said. Fuck the whore princess.” Joffrey laughed at you. Joffrey's smile disappeared when you slapped him across the face making him cry out. 

“Fuck you! You fucking bastard.” You yelled at him. Joffrey growled and you let out a gasp when you felt Joffrey’s hand hold your shoulder. 

Looking at Joffrey’s face, you felt frozen for a moment. The anger on his face washed away and a look of panic came across his face. He took a step back and looked down at your chest. Following his gaze, you looked down and saw the hilt of the dagger. Taking a breath, the pain came rushing through you. He stabbed you in the chest with the dagger. Joffrey shook his head as he looked at you. 

“Joffrey.” You cry out and fall down on your knees as you cry out in pain. Joffrey ran out of the tent leaving you behind. You were left alone, you looked down to see blood start to stain the front of your dress. You can feel the blood flowing down your body, you let out a moan of pain with each breath you took. 

You didn’t even hear the commotion outside of the tent as you fell to the ground on your back. You stared at the ceiling of the tent as you cried. Your vision grew blurry, you didn’t hear someone coming in. You didn’t hear the shouts and the sound of someone walking inside. Blinking the tears, you were met with your father’s face. You see his lips moving but no words are coming out. 

You feel so cold now. You let out a groan when you felt someone grabbing a hold of you. Robert started to cry as he held you in his arms. 

Robert shook his head when he saw you were trying to speak but blood started to come out of the corner of your mouth.  He flinched when you started to cough up blood.  The only thing you can do is stare up at him. You were dying and it brought tears to your eyes. You were dying and he wouldn’t know what happened. Robert felt your hand on his cheek as you used all the strength you had left in you. 

“Joff- ery.” Robert frowned when you spoke. "Joffrey."

“Jof-fery did it. H-he is a-a bastard.” You cried as your vision grew dark. “He is a bastard.” Robert felt you go limp in his arms after you said those words. 

He calls out your name as he picks your head up. Something broke Robert in half and he relived the day he was told that Lyanna Stark was murdered. A scream came from inside the tent that made Robert’s army freeze. They all saw how the prince came running out bumping into his father. Robert had commanded Joffrey to stay put and that he will have a word with him after he spoke with you. Jamie yelled at Joffrey to come back when he saw Joffrey mounting the nearest horse. Joffrey rode out as Sandor came walking with a group, he had retrieved his sword and walked back to the base. He stopped when he saw Joffrey riding away and looked ahead when he heard a scream. 

Sandor quickly walked to the white horse he saw you on. He began to breathe quickly when he saw you weren’t on it. He looked around and flinched when he heard Robert’s scream once more. Everyone looked at the tent, all frozen because they never heard Robert scream like this. Sandor shouted your name, not caring what people would think or say. He had to find you. He shouted once more before walking inside of the tent passing Jamie. 

Sandor froze when he entered. He took a step back bumping into Jamie. The King Slayer gasped when he saw the sight of Robert holding your dead body in his arm. Robert sobbed against your neck. Sandor watched how your body trembled with each sob Robert made. Your eyes were open and staring at ceiling. Arms flared out, blood started to pool on the ground and cover Robert’s armor but he didn’t care. Your father held you in his arms. 

Jamie saw the dagger in your chest when Robert pulled away from you to move your hair out of your face. 

“Where is he?” Robert hissed. Sandor and Jamie remained silent. “Where is that blonde bastard?” The look of absolute fear appeared on Jamie’s face. 

The knights outside quickly hushed down when they saw Sandor walk out of the tent. He dragged his sword on the ground as he walked to the nearest tree. Dropping the sword completely he ignored the questions thrown at him. They all looked at themselves when they saw The Hound with tears rolling down from his face. Sandor was in complete shock. His bottom lip trembled as he cried. 

“Where is he?” Robert shouted in the tent and Jamie came out walking backwards. Robert had his sword aimed at him.

“This is a mistake. Joffrey wouldn’t do this.” Jamie explained but the look in Robert’s eyes. Jamie knew it was no use, Robert wanted revenge. 

“Arrest him.” Robert yelled looking at his men. “Wait-this has nothing to do with me.” Jamie yelled as they tackled him down to the ground. Sandor looked over his shoulder when he heard Robert. 

“The person who brings me Joffrey Lannister will be rewarded.” Robert's words rang out and the sound of Jamie screaming no was all that Robert needed. You told him the truth. A few knights had begun to ride back to King’s Landing. 

Joffrey was indeed a bastard. 

Sandor felt like an empty shell as he rode back to King's Landing. The cut on his arm was numbed, the banging in his head was nothing compared to the emptiness he felt in his heart. His blood shot eyes were glued to the wagon a few feet in front of him. Robert rode his horse as he led another with a wagon attached to it. He laid you there when they started to get ready to ride back. The knights that stayed bowed their heads when Robert came out of the tent with you in his arms. Robert covered you with a blanket, his hands shook as he checked you were strapped in. 

Sandor can see the outline of your body, your body moved whenever there was a bump in the road. He had shut his eyes when he saw the blood seeping through the blanket. Robert decided to ride through the gates of the back of the castle. The servants and stable boys were all waiting to tend the wounded and the horses. Robert got off his horse and saw Cersei walking towards him with a frown when she noticed Jamie was chained. 

“What is the meaning of this? Joffrey has barricaded himself in his room. He won’t open the door. My brother has been arrested.” Cersei yelled at him. She was met with a slap across her face that made her fall to the ground. 

“Is Joffrey mine?” Robert asked, looking down at her. Cersei’s eyes widened in surprise but she hid it with a look of anger. 

“Don’t you fucking lie to me.” Cersei flinched under his gaze and looked away. She looked ahead at his horse and noticed a wagon with a body on it. 

“That bastard killed my daughter.” Robert yelled, grabbing Cersei by the hair and dragged her to the wagon. Cersei yelled in pain as he dragged her over. Robert ripped the blanket off of your body and pushed Cersei down on her knees in front of you. All she did was stare as the servants behind her scream in terror at the sight of you. Your servants began to cry and fell on their knees from shock. 

Cersei just stared in shock, Robert grew angry when she didn't show any emotions. Cersei yelped when Robert grabbed a hold of her blonde hair again. Jamie screamed across from, screaming at Robert to let her go. 

“Your grace, what's the meaning of this?” Jon Arryn, the hand of the King said as he walked along with the maester to Robert. 

Jon Arryn froze when he saw you. He looked at Robert and at Cersei on the floor. Robert kept staring at her as Jon started to yell at everyone to leave. The stable boys grabbed the horses and brought them to the stables while the servants tried to cover their cries. 

“Chain her with her brother.” Robert told Jon Arryn. The news of your death was not announced until two days later. Those two days seemed to be a nightmare to most. Robert had caused a rampage in the castle. Jamie and Cersei Lannister were arrested. Robert had the doors of Joffrey’s chambers broken down and the knights grabbed a hold of the blonde boy. They found him hiding under his bed. He screamed with all his might as they dragged him down the hall. Tommen and Marcella were kept guarded in the Red Keep, they had Jon Arryn to thank for. Robert had become ruthless and wanted every Lannister executed including the children. 

Sandor stayed in his room those two days. He locked himself. He ignored the shouts and the screams from Joffrey who was being dragged to the dungeons. He ignored the knocks from your servants. He didn’t want to see anyone. He didn’t want to speak to anyone. He laid on his bed, covering his face with his pillow as he sobbed. He screams into the pillow trying to cover the sound. He cried until he fell asleep and woke up to do it all over again. 

He shouted at the person to fuck off when he heard a knock on the third day. His throat was sore from the screams. 

“It’s me, Sandor. It’s Ned Stark.” Sandor froze as Ned knocked once more. “I need to speak with you.” Sandor rose up from his bed and walked to the door. 

Sandor notices Ned has been crying as well. His eyes were red and he let the lord walk inside. Ned walked in, looking at the room before looking back at Sandor.

“Did she tell you-.” Sandor cuts Ned off with a nod as he shuts the door. 

“Very well then. I’m sure she didn’t tell you but she wanted me to tell you in case the plan fell through. She wanted me to give you a place in Winterfell, if you want too. Since Joffrey is still kept in the dungeon, you can come back with us after the funeral. I will arrange for some of my men to escort you to Winterfell unseen.” Sandor frowned. 

“She asked you?” Ned nodded with a small smile. “She knows you've been treated unfairly by Joffrey. She wrote to me before her death, in case something happened to please have a place for you. She loved you, I didn’t understand it at first but the way she spoke about you. She called you a good man, a man with honor.” 

Sandor shook his head. “I’m not a good man. I broke her heart because Joffrey threatened to have us exposed. He threatened to have her executed for being with me. For being with a dog, a second born son. It’s my fault she died. It’s all my fault.” Ned watched in silence as Sandor sat down on his bed and covered his face with his hands. 

“You didn’t kill her. Joffrey did. It’s not your fault. In the end, I know for a fact she knew you still loved her. She had to know because why would she send me a letter asking for safe haven for you if she couldn’t make it.” 

“The Lannister's trial will start soon. I don’t know about you but I can’t wait to see their faces. Robert's decision is final on them.” Ned told him and left the room leaving Sandor in his thoughts. 

The trial ended with Jamie and Tyrion sent to the wall for their remaining days, it was thanks to their father, Tywin Lannister. He had rode to King’s landing demanding for his children's freedom but at the end. Tywin had begged for his sons to not be executed. 

“Kill all the bastards, for all I care.” Tywin said, ignoring Cersei's cries. “And your whore daughter?” 

Tywin looked at Robert and picked a decision that will haunt him for the rest of his life. “Do what you like, your grace. This is the last time she will tarnish the Lannister's name.” 

Before the trial ended, Robert called out for Tywin. “Take your sons to the wall, Lord Lannister and stay there with them.” Tywin’s face fell, all the Lannister's were punished for Joffrey’s doing. 

For the first time, the people in King’s Landing didn’t push and shove to see you or touch you. They stood in silence, some cried and others just watched as the knights carried your body in an open carriage. You laid on a bed of flowers, you wore a black and golden color dress as a tribute to your House. Your hands laid on top of your stomach as you laid there peacefully. 

Making it to the Red Keep, the knights carried you inside where the realm can give you their last goodbye to you. Everyone had gone home when Sandor visited you. He dropped his shoulders and he felt the tears well up in his eyes at the sight of you laying so still in the middle of the keep. Lit candles surrounded you and you had golden coins laid on top your eyes. He removed his sword and wineskin from his belt, placing it by the wall as he walked towards you. 

His hands shook as he tried to reach for your hand. He flinched when he felt how cold you were and stiffed. He grabbed it, ignoring it and bringing it up to his lips. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your knuckles. “I’m sorry, Princess.” He cries out. After a few minutes, Sandor clears his throat after saying his goodbyes to you. “I’m not going to Winterfell. We were supposed to go together.” He gently puts your hand back in place.

Before Sandor leaves, he looks down at you once more. “I love you. I will always love you.” 

Grabbing his sword and wineskin, he shuts the doors behind and walks down the steps of the Red Keep, he ignores the two bodies stung up across from him. He had no need to see Joffrey and Cersei again. He walked to the stable to find Ned and his men. Sandor walked to Stanger, giving his head a rub before looking at Ned. 

“Are you sure?” The Lord of Winterfell asked him. Sandor nodded at him. 

“He just needs some time when it comes to new people. He’s a war horse, fast and strong.” Ned nodded before reaching his hand out for Stranger to smell it. 

“We will take good care of him. Rob, my oldest needs a good horse. I swear Stranger will be well taken care of.” Sandor gives Ned the reins of Stranger and pats him once more as goodbye. Sandor watches as Ned and his men begin to travel back to the North. He wasn't worry about giving Stranger away, Sandor knew Ned will be true to his word. Stranger will be taken care of by his new owner.  

Sandor doesn't tell anyone where he’s going off too. He walks out of King's Landing and walks through the forest to the edge of the cliff where he saw the sun was setting. Removing his sword and wineskin, he sits down and leans back against the tree as he remembers the sound of your laughter. This is the place, the place where you kissed him for the first time. You had managed to convince him to take you out after being cooped up in the castle. He was sitting on a rock as you gave him a wineskin out of your bag. It was out of nowhere but you had walked towards him catching him by surprise and you were at the perfect height to kiss him. 

Sandor grabs the wineskin he brought and brings it up to his nose to smell it. He looks ahead at the scenery with a smile. Maybe it was the gods showing him a vision, or perhaps it was all in his head but he can see himself with you at the same spot on the rock where you kissed him. He had returned those kisses, gathering you up in his arms and both of you stayed there for a while. He forced himself to drink the wine as he stared ahead watching the sunset. He wanted to be with you. Throwing the empty wineskin, he looks down at his hands. His eyesight blurred and he looked up to find himself back in your room. 

“Your hands are huge, Sandor.” He looks to his right to see you under the covers, naked. He notices the look on your face, the love bites on your chest were fresh. He lets you grab a hold of hand and compares it with yours.

“My hands aren’t not huge. You're just small.” Sandor comments as you raise his hand with your up in the air as the sunlight of the morning shined through the window of your chambers. Sandor had grabbed your hand and rolled over on top of you making you laugh as he kissed your neck. 

Ser Gregor stood next to Sandor’s body. They finally found him after four days later when he received news of Sandor's disappearance. His men found him, found his body laying against a tree, with the sun beaming down on him. One of his men brought the wineskin near Sandor's body to Ser Gregor. Bringing it up to his nose, Ser Gregor makes a face when he smells the poison. 

“Let’s take him back home.” Ser Gregor said, looking down at his younger brother one more time. It's the first time he had seen his brother so at peace. Sandor had died with a smile on his face.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

<- Chapter 2

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[floatyflowers]

Hi could you do a one shot story about a male dark daenerys targaryen and his future wife reader?

Male! Daenerys Targaryen x Baratheon Reader

Daeron Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the father of Dragons, the Khal of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.

Hearing those titles was enough for you to predicate what will happen to King's Landing if your mother, Cersei Lannister, didn't bend the knee.

And your prediction turned out to be a reality when the Targaryen burned down King's Landing.

You weren't with your mother and uncle Jaime in the Red Keep when that happened, no, you were with your uncle Tyrion.

Little do you know, that Daeron has done it all for you, for you to be his and only his.

He saw you one time at the meeting that was held to plan the end of the night King, that's where he decided you would become his woman.

Right now, you can't help but weep in distress, as you are forced on your knees in front of the iron throne, as its new king sits on it.

"None of that would have happened if your father hadn't started a rebellion against my brother, Rhaeger"

Daeron states as if that is solely Robert's fault.

"None of that would have happened if Rhaeger didn't kidnap my father's betrothed"

Instead of telling you the truth about Lyanna's and Rhaeger's love story, he only smirks, before uttering the next words.

"I have got a solution to fix all the past mistakes"

Daeron doesn't move from his place as he stares at you with his violet eyes.

"We marry, and reunite the realms together"

You shook your head in fear and disgust at the thought of marrying a madman like Daeron Targeryen.

"Oh, did I forget that you have no choice? " his eyes narrow as he continues

"That's an order and you shall obey it"

[starogeorgina]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

Paring: Oberyn Martell x Baratheon reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of animal cruelty

Chapter: 1.01

You stand before the iron throne teary-eyed; this was the goodbye you had been dreading for over a year. It was time for you to leave your home and travel to Dorne to meet your betrothed, Prince Oberyn Martell, the red viper.

The king's eyes move over the different entrances to the throne room, and many knights from the king's guard, including your uncle Jamie, stand at attention, ready to cut down any threat to the king and his family. “Your mother?”

Your mother visited your chambers the night before to inform you that Dornish men were known for ravaging women, and your wedding night will be one of the most unpleasant and painful experiences you’ll ever live through. You hadn’t seen her since then.

“We said our goodbyes last night, my king.”

He knows you’re lying; you often did when it came to Cersei. He stands and motions for you to step closer.

Your grandsire, Tywin Lannister narrows his eyes and nods. He was in full agreement that using you as a political pawn was the way forward. Joffrey stands beside him, looking bored, while Myrcella and Tommen both cry. You didn’t want to leave them, but it was your duty.

As the first legitimate child of King Robert Baratheon, you should have been next in line to the throne, but you were a daughter. So the throne would bypass you and go to the eldest male, Joffrey. The irony was that your father made you sit in his council meetings, would ask your opinions on different matters, and allowed you to sit in on your brother's sword lessons, something that your mother disapproved of. Your father had never once shown any interest in Joffrey or prepared him to rule one day.

Your father cups your face, wiping away a fallen tear with his thumb. “Y/n, my daughter, do not cry again, as I won't be there to wipe your tears anymore.”

“I will miss you, father.”

“Next time I see you, I will be at your wedding, and you will be the most beautiful bride the seven kingdoms have ever seen.”

—

“There she is.” Ellaria nudges Oberyn's shoulder and points in the direction of a young, timid-looking girl sitting on a staircase overlooking one of the ponds. “I expected her to have the famous golden lion hair.”

“Perhaps this one really is a Baratheon,” he quips. The Prince wasn’t sure if it was common knowledge or not that Cersei’s three youngest children were rumored to be fathered by their uncle Jamie. However, it appears his future bride wasn’t the result of incest.

“Princess y/n Baratheon, the eldest daughter of King Robert, and Cersei fucking Lannister.”

Oberyn smirks at hearing the venom in his lover's voice; she hates House Lannister just as much as he does. He watches as the girl, who couldn’t have been much older than seventeen, twitches her jaw; she can sense them looking at them. He had argued with his elder brother, Prince Doran, when he agreed to the betrothal between Oberyn and the daughter of his enemy without his permission.

“Trust me, brother, this is the way.”

He should be going over to at least introduce himself, but the girl looks so terrified that Oberyn thought it was best to give her some time.

Ellaria Scoffs asks, “Why did she bring those things? Does she think Dorne doesn’t have cats?”

“Because if she left them behind, Joffrey would have killed them.”

Oberyn looks away from the girl and turns around to see the infamous imp, Tyrion Lannister, walking towards them. He was the only one willing to travel to Dorne with the princess.

Tyrion graciously accepts a cup of wine, then sits down and indulges the drink in full before continuing. “Years ago, Robert gifted my niece a kitten on her name day; he picked that particular one because he said it had curious eyes that matched his oldest daughter’s. She named it Milady. She loved the little thing, and against my sister's wishes, she let it sleep in her bed, and it followed her around the keep, wherever my niece was, the kitten wasn’t far behind. It was quite cute, actually. Then one day it went missing, and y/n searched the full red keep and cried herself to sleep every night for weeks missing it.”

Tyrion had a way of telling a story that was very intriguing, almost as if it were an old tale passed down through generations. The prince sits down on a plush yellow chair across from his guest, his arm casually swinging over the back of it. “Then what? Did she ever find it?”

A look void of emotion passes through Tyrion’s features; he clicks his tongue while refilling his cup with wine. He takes a large gulp. “One evening during dinner, Joffrey claimed to have a gift for his sister, something to cheer her up. He had a servant bring in a red silk bag, and inside it was whatever remained of Milady. Robert was horrified, of course, but Cersei stated that cats were horrid little creatures and continued eating her meal as her daughter bawled her eyes out.”

“A cunt.”

Tyrion lifts his cup in agreement with Ellaria’s statement. A Lannister’s cruelty never surprised him, but a brother being allowed to treat his own sister like that was... Oberyn had no words.

“And that was my sister being kind to her. Does that answer your question?”

“What question?”

Tilting his head back, Tyrion gives them a knowing look, as if he knew what question was burning on the tip of their tongues. “Why is this marriage allowed to go ahead? It’s because even Robert, a drunken fool of a king, knows he can’t protect his daughter from her mother’s hate.”

“The girl's eyes are swollen; is she scared that the Dornish aren’t as kind as the people of King's Landing?” Ellaria asks sarcastically.

“Y/n didn’t want to leave her father, Tommen, or Myrcella,” Tyrion answers truthfully. “She’s been shipped off to a foreign country to marry a stranger who’s twice her age, with customs she doesn’t know or understand, and it may have possibly crossed her mind that she may be used to get revenge for the sack of King's landing. Of course she’s scared.”

Ellaria's brows pull together; being a mother herself, she couldn’t fathom the idea of putting her own child in harm's way. “And the Lannisters were still willing to send her to Dorne, thinking we were nothing more than monsters wanting revenge?”

Oberyn clenches his jaw. “What was done to my sister and her children—”

“Was a travesty,” Tyrion says, cutting him off. “But my niece had nothing to do with it. And the girl is not dim; she’s under no false allusions to who her mother, father, and grandfather are.”

“And yet she loves them still.”

Tyrion shrugs. “Hmm, she loves Robert, but I wouldn’t be so sure about her feelings towards my father and Cersei.”

Oberyn crosses his legs; he was curious to learn if Tyrion was saying these things in the hope he would be sympathetic towards the girl. “Why do you think the princess should be married to Martell?”

Looking over his shoulder, Tyrion smiles, observing his niece take in her new surroundings for a moment before answering. “Because I don’t believe you’ll treat her any worse than she already has been.”

—

After speaking with his guest for some time, Oberyn decides to go and introduce himself to y/n. From everything Tyrion had told him, he felt nothing but pity for his future bride. He looks across the garden and notices his paramour glaring at the girl, who seemed content playing with her pets. Since the wedding would be held in a few months, Oberyn had extended the invitation for Tyrion to stay in Dorne so that she wouldn’t be so alone.

Y/n doesn’t look back as he gets closer to her, even though she would have been able to hear him since the Prince was deliberately making his steps louder than normal. The Baratheon girl looks out of place by the way she was dressed; he’d need to have clothing that was more suited to the Dornish climate made for her.

A large black cat was stretched out across her lap, while two others playfully fought on the ground beside her feet, the sand sticking to their fur.

Oberyn sits down on the step beside her. She was so caught up in her creatures that she merely offered him a polite nod before turning her attention back to the cat, which caused him to smile. “What’s its name?”

“This is Balerion. The brown one is Vhagar, and the white one is Meraxes.”

His brows arch in surprise. “You have an interest in Westeros history?”

“Mainly house Baratheon and Targaryen.”

“Why those houses?"

She continues to focus on the animal sprawled across her, scratching behind the cat's ear. She nips at her tongue before answering, as if she’s thinking of an acceptable answer. “I like learning about my family’s history.”

“I imagined you’re tired of hearing about Robert’s rebellion.”

She scoffs, “The septa who taught myself and Myrcella was rather skilled in telling us the histories she wanted us to learn.”

He raises his brows and asks, “Is that so?”

“Nobody was ever going to tell us the full truth of what happened, only the parts they wanted to be remembered.”

Oberyn becomes so lost in his thoughts of the sacking of kings landing that he doesn’t even realise one of the cats had climbed up onto him until he feels the pinch of his claw on his thigh. He swallows back the poison, ready to jump from his mouth, reminding himself that the poor girl couldn’t help who her parents were. “So, who’s your favorite Baratheon then?” He asks, hoping to lighten his sudden, tense mood. “Your father?”

“No,” she chuckles. “The founder of House Baratheon, Orys Baratheon. He was the bastard son of Aerion Targaryen and stepbrother to the three conquerors.”

“The Dornish refused to bend the knee to house Targaryen during Aegon’s conquest.”

“Your words. Ours are unbowed, unbent, and unbroken. You may burn us, my lady, but you will not bend us, break us, or make us bow. This is Dorne. You are not wanted here. Return at your peril.”

The prince was impressed; he didn’t think the Baratheon princess would have any knowledge of who Meria Martell was, let alone his house words. They sit in silence for some time, and Oberyn watches as the sun begins to disappear. The stillness is only disturbed when she speaks again.

“I’m sorry, Prince Oberyn.” She finally looks up at him, her eyes full of sorrow as they meet his. “For what my family did to house Martell, I’m sorry.”

Oberyn was lost for words; he had accepted many thoughts from the daughter of Robert and Cersei, but for her to show genuine remorse wasn’t one of them.

[greycloudsinwinter]

Yandere Stannis Baratheon headcanon.

YANDERE STANNIS BARATHEON X READER

🦌 Stannis is and always has been known as the younger brother of Robert Baratheon. The heir encase Robert failed to farther children. However Robert did which made Stannis a bit bitter . You see Stannis wanted that throne more then anyone of those other lords and seeing his brother turn into a pig only made him angry more.

🦌when he meets you a young lady of a powerful house he is intrigued. His wife failing to give him a son was making him desperate and you were just so perfect.

🦌starts to court you in a way no one knows however in private you know what he is truly like.

🦌kills his own wife once she insults you . Now he needed a new wife to look after his daughter and to beat him sons.

🦌forcing you to marry him even as you begged him to let you go he just shook his head and told the septa to carry on. To which the septa did afraid for there life.

🦌once you are married you won’t escape . Anyone and I mean anyone that makes him jealous is killed. And your usually at his side so he doesn’t loose you.

🦌he will have the throne no matter the cost but he won’t take the throne if that means losing you.

🦌wants many children and by many I mean LOADS . Will be disappointed if it’s a girl but he still will love the child after all with you being so young he can try as many times as he needs to . To have a male heir.

🦌unhinged and devoted yandere .

Thank you for the request ❤️❤️

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

The Lost Chapters of Jon Snow

Pairings: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 15.5k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, character deaths, graphic descriptions of blood and violence, rape, forced sex acts, abusive/forced relationship, sex under threat of death, male victim of female sexual violence, suicidal ideation, visions of smut & visions of p in v (between Reader and Robb)

Notes: Did you ever wonder what Jons story looked like during the chapters he was not a main character? These are snapshots into how the events of Heart of the Great Wolf effected Jon, that we did not previously get to see in this story. Series Masterlist Here

“Being me a horn of ale, Snow. And pour one for yourself.”

Jon should have known right away that something bad had happened, but in no way did he understand what the world looked like down South enough to guess. Night hadn't even properly hit and already one thing after another piled on top of each other, what was one more thing to add to it, he thought.

He and Sam had said their vows. Brothers of the Nights Watch they were, and yet to start off, from the woods beyond Ghost came trotting out with a human hand in his mouth. They had all went to seek where he found it and two rangers laid dead not far away from the Weirwood beyond the wall. Yarwick had quickly identified them, Othor and Jafar Flowers but with no hint of where his Uncle Benjen may have been, it felt less morose in Jons chest then it did unsettling. If his uncle was simply gone, then why were two of his company back here all alone?

There had to be more to it he thought, and maybe there was. Sam had mentioned that there was no smell to the bodies at all, and at this point there should have been. Lord Commander Mormont's attention had been called over a raven from Kings Landing, and so he made his way to his office, ordering the rest of them to help move the bodies so Maester Aemon could examine them. All Jon thought as he walked into his office, was of his uncle. He didn't at all realize, it was the wrong family member which was to be his newest fear.

Jon was hesitant as he poured, and he could sense the Old Bear was choosing his slow spoken words to him very carefully, sitting at his desk going over what news the raven had brought. “The King is dead.”

Pausing in his movements, far too much to choose one thought, passed through Jons mind. The air in the room felt thick, and he knew that the conversation was not about to end with that as the worst of it. Not quite turning to him, he had no idea if the words came off as calm as he was attempting to sound. “Is there any word of my father?”

Moving to place the ale on his desk, Jon was told to sit. Already he felt sick, he'd rather not sit he'd rather just be told what happened here and now with no lead up. Get it out of the way and maybe Jon could stop the nerve wracking pounding of his heart. Eyes wide, he did as he was told but what came out of the Old Bear's mouth was not at all what he was bracing himself for. “Lord Stark has been charged with treason.”

If that sentence did not make sense to Jon, the next one made even less.

“They say he conspired with Roberts niece- your brothers wife, to deny the throne from Prince Joffery. They both have been arrested as traitors to the realm.”

On instinct, Jon held his hand out. Needing to read the words himself but still it made no sense in his head every attempt. His father wasn't a man who did things like that, his father was the most honourable man Jon's ever known. If a mistake hadn't been made, then something else very wrong had led to this, he knew it.

The only so called treason his father ever committed was rebelling against injustice done to his own family over twenty years ago, but you? You were smart. A good girl. Someone who, insult or honour, always did what you were told. Not a conspirerer in a game of kings. He read the words again and again, and for some strange reason he recalled something the other day.

He thought of you often, he dreamt of you often, but only days ago Jon could recall having a strange image in his head of you somewhere he's never seen next to his father and he had done what he did any other time he imagined such a thing. Threw it away in his mind of simply a yearning to see again the girl he never would.

Not a clue where he was even moving towards, Jon stood up. Making his way to the door he could suddenly see all of them. Leaving on the Kingsroad and the realization that if his father and you were being charged as traitors, what about-

“I hope your not thinking of doing anything stupid. Your duty lies here now.” Stopping mid step, Jon didn't really look back at him. No, not stupid, necessary, but what was that? All Jon knew, was he had to get out of this room. He had to do something, he couldn't stand by and let this all just happen.

His voice was weak, and he knew it was a plea the Lord Commander would not accept but Jon had to say it anyways. Someone had to be thinking of them. “My sisters were in Kings Landing too.” And he was right, it wasn't anything the man accepted. He just told Jon, he was sure they'd be treated gently.

Jon couldn't stop that feeling of anger as he walked about Castle Black. His duty lay here, but if his father and you were rotting in a dungeon, who was now doing the duty of protecting his sisters? Arya and Sansa were just girls, young and naive in their own ways and the gentle they'd be treated with didn't feel like it was going to be the same definition Jon would have of it. It was Joffery and the Queen, who was there to stand in between them and his little sisters if there was no one left there to do it, or care?

What was the point of honour, if it meant Jon had to choose what honour was supposed to mean more over the other?

It didn't get better as time passed. People were awkward around him, people whispered and either looked at him strangely or avoided his eye entirely. He didn't want to think about what they were saying, Jon didn't have time for it. Or the patience.

Standing in the kitchens, he was distracted. Quieter then normal and looking nowhere but where the knife in front of him was cutting and the sights in his head he was being told to abandon the idea of protecting. Giving Arya a sword didn't mean Jon trusted her to be safe with it. She was young, short, small, and too quick and snarky for her own good and even if she knew how to use it, that wouldn't protect her against the power of a crown calling her father a traitor.

The last time he saw her, the way as they always had for years, she jumped high into his arms for a hug and nowhere in that city would a girl barley eleven years old find herself safe enough for long enough for- for what? For him to go get her?

For Jon to leave the Nights Watch and find his sisters? If Arya wasn't safe with a sword, Sansa was even less safe without one. She didn't understand violence, she wouldn't have anything or anyone to protect her without their father, but again, what was Jon supposed to do? Hope his little sisters assumed Jon just didn't know the danger they were now in? Did they believe the treason the crown claimed you and their father had done?

Would Arya and Sansa hate him more or less, if they realized Jon knew they weren't safe there, but had to stand here and choose not to do anything about it? His family weren't traitors, his father wasn't a traitor and neither were you. But Jon could only stand there, and feel that helplessness grow into anger at being told to do nothing for the people he loved.

At least, do nothing actually productive. But he sure did something with that anger, only it helped no one, including himself. The second Jon heard Ser Alliser's voice his muscles tensed, trying not to look or focus but he spoke right at him, walking right up beside him. “Now there's a rare sight. Not only a bastard, but a traitors bastard.”

The worst of it all, was that Jon knew it might have been less of an offence if he reacted right away.

Ten, twenty, maybe thirty seconds had passed. Sam, Pyp and Grenn all taking their turns glancing over to Jon as he stood there in complete silence. His eyes looked up to Ser Alliser, who condescendingly nodded for him to go back to work, to stand there and let the man insult his father.

Too bad for both, his father meant more to Jon then not reacting to that look in Ser Alliser's eyes. In a second, Jon flipped his grip on the knife and felt not a shred of regret going for him. Anger and red hot rage flowing through his blood, but he'd rather see it pour out of wherever he stabbed the man then let it fester silently inside his own mind. Instantly, his brothers reacted.

He could hear Sam and Grenn yelling, “Jon, stop put it down-” Right as he came close, Pyp moved to haul Jon away as Grenn tore the knife from his hand. Every part of him felt as if it was screaming to let him finish the job and damn the consequences, but the three of them knew Jon better then to let it happen.

Leaning angrily into his person, Ser Alliser all but hissed at him. “Blood will always tell. You'll hang for this, bastard.”

Jon couldn't do anything to help his father, couldn't do anything to help you, and couldn't do anything to help his sisters, and now he wasn't even allowed to be angry over it. The Old Bear didn't hang him, but it was clear to Jon as he was confined to quarters, that he had more coming his way. More then just that night, setting an already dead man on fire.

It was days later the next news of a raven came. Funny thing it was, how it was almost a skill the degree to which Jon could go from such an easy mood to something intense and far too angry raging deep in his bones. Sitting next to Sam, he was trying to pry out what it was he claimed he couldn't. “I'm really not supposed to say.”

Tilting his head in amusement, Jon prodded him a little more in jest. “And yet, you really want to say. You want to say that..” Leaving the air open for Sam to pluck up the courage and spit it out already, but just as days before, Jon almost wished he never heard it.

“There was a raven. I read the message to Maester Aemon.”

By the weary look in Sams eye, Jon expected it to be more of his father. But, it was somehow even more conflicting for Jons resolve. It was about Robb. Robb and you. “Someone helped her escape Kings Landing in the middle of the night, a Kingsgaurd. She's reunited with your brother, they're heading South together. To war.”

Every lack of luck in Jons life, the only thing he's heard of you in months, and twice now in days both things left him torn of too much. On paper, he should be happy you escaped. But it wasn't your freedom which left Jon's blood chilling inside him. It was his lack of freedom now. You had fled and joined Robb, going to war with him even beacuse if it wasn't duty you did, it was always trying to do what was right and now Jon had to sit there and do the opposite.

Robb was heading South declaring war on the Lannisters with you at his side, and Jon only had one breathless thought as his eyes drifted to nothing at the surmounting pile of useless he felt. “I should be there. I should be with them. Both of them.”

Jon had imagined you in his head more time then he could count since being at the wall, but it wasn't until he sat there in the hall with Sam, did he realize. Maybe he wasn't imagining you. Jon should be there, with Robb, but maybe, something was forcing Jon with you. It was too detailed, too unknown, an image he had not the creativity to pretend was his imaginations capability. He should be there with Robb, but it wasn't until that day did Jon finally come to understand, something in his mind, was keeping him with you.

Both in armour as you stood in an unknown land next to Robb. His silver and heavy, yours thinner and black almost something like scales as it sat lighter on your person. A shattering of nerves left just a distant heaviness in both your eyes as across was blood on yours and Robbs person, all he could see was Robb twisting his arm to hold at your wrist, and you returned the gesture right back, before the vision was gone. If you and his brother left for war, Jon started to wonder if he was watching it.

Guilt, anger, and confused shame all swirling in his mind, but maybe if he had one thing to hold onto, it was that just perhaps the gods had granted Jon one grace. If there was one hope he clung onto as everything told him to abandon this duty and go to his family, it was that you were not gone from his life entirely.

If Jon was seeing you standing beside Robb at war, he couldn't help but wonder, how much more of you would he finally be allowed to see again. He felt angry and useless here, but if he was seeing visions of you, it might be of some comfort.

Were anyone to hear Jon say what was happening in his head, they'd think him out of his mind no doubt. It was cold beyond the wall, and too easily someone could argue that the cold can mess with the head a little bit. Not even Sam would believe him if he said what was really happening.

There was not a shred of doubt anymore to Jon however. He knew he was seeing you. For a solid fact, Jon knew he was seeing you. First it was dreams, then in waking days he thought he was making things up because he missed you but it was impossible to deny now. He saw things of you that came true, and he continued to see things of you that were happening along the same war path he was not following.

Robb was King in the North now, which meant you stood beside him as his Queen, and Jon desperately wished it was that which he was seeing. Show him his brother growing into a leader, or your rule together, but don't show him this. It wasn't battle and strategy Jon saw. No, Jon would see, hear, and sometimes, somehow, feel only the moments of quiet he never got to.

What Jon had with you, before you had Robb, was minimal in the grand scheme of things. He knew a bit of what being with you felt like. He knew in great detail what your kiss was like, he knew what a truly beautiful sight your bare body looked like, and he knew some bits of how you felt against him. It was supposed to be enough, he'd lay awake at night at the wall and those small parts of you were his only comfort.

Eyes shut in the dark of his quarters, and he could just barley feel your soft skin under his hands or hear your gentle, high pitched sigh in his ears and Jon would fall asleep just a little easier. He would never have you the way he wanted to, the way Robb had you now, but what Jon did have was supposed to be enough.

But then he'd see you, hear you. Not just you, not just alone or in memory.

As he sat close to the ground, back up against a tree, Jon almost dropped his sword as soon as he heard it, and he nearly cut himself by accident as soon as he felt it. Your high pitched sigh in his ear as your breathe trailed along his neck like a phantom. If he closed his eyes, maybe he could feel you actually pressing your lips there. But if he closed them, he may stop seeing it. And Jon couldn't tell if he wanted to stop seeing you like this quite yet. No matter how awful it made him feel.

It was in front of his eyes as much as the crowded yards of Crasters Keep was. He could see both, and hear both. But it was not himself in a memory of you he watched. It was Robb. Robb taking you, the way Jon dreamt of being able to do with you for years.

The room you were in, some war tent no doubt fitted just enough to be fair of a King and Queen, but without the pomp he imagined many others might have wanted. In terms of luxury, Robb was as humble as you were and it made Jon swallow harshly at how easily you matched his brother. Once, he thought it was himself you were made for, but now he wasn't so sure. Robb touched you easier then Jon ever did even after six years.

You were gorgeous this way, eyes barley keeping open and your mouth parting with breathless begs and pleads, but it burned Jon everytime it was “Robb” he would hear you sing. At the mercy of his brothers touch, you moved just the way he wanted and never protested how thrown around he'd toss you about.

Watching as if before him, Jon could see the way you were moulded perfectly to Robbs demand, and Jon, aggravatingly, almost could feel as if he was the one inside you. His brother had you on your hands and knees, your back arching into each thrust as you barley gasped for air before Robb took it away again. It was rough, the way his brother fucked you, but gods help him, Jon could tell you took Robbs cock as if you were born for it.

Barley a word you'd mutter out, just begs for more, begs for Robb to do whatever he wanted, and promises that you'd be good for him as you cried into the air. So perfect it sent shivers down Jons spine more then any winter winds out here. None knew, none could hear, not your cries nor Jons thoughts but you were so effortlessly loud without being obnoxious.

Just the sounds that couldn't be contained, but he would've. Forced to sit there, eyes dark and narrowed, Jon watched and knew he would've by now, flipped you onto your back. Covered you with his body, pressing you into the sheets and stolen every last breathe with his lips. Kiss you so only he could feel your cries and none would hear it.

Robb would mutter filth at you then groan and Jon somehow knew you were clenching around him so tightly, but he couldn't help the wonder on his own as he watched. Jon wouldn't talk to you that way, and clearly you couldn't get enough when Robb did, but Jon would make up for it. He'd slow down, take you so every inch dragged along your sensitive walls and pull your needy cries that way instead of seducing them with words.

You reached a hand back, and Robb pulled you up. Knelt upright on the bed, your back against his chest as he fucked up into you, and muttered low in your ear as you begged for him to finish inside you. And you were perfect for it, beautiful for it. Jon would never get the chance, but every insecurity left his head as he watched you in his own wide eyed silence.

You begged for his brother, begged for Robb to spill inside of you, but Jon wished it was him. He'd keep your lips pressed to his, you'd barley be able to beg, beacuse he'd spill inside of you before you could go too long without it.

So, imagine the true cruelty, as the image before Jon shattered out of nowhere. Left back in only the cold of Crasters Keep and you were gone. He was used to it by now, he supposed. Without much due, Jon picked Longclaw back up, and returned to properly taking care of it. He saw you enough that he could go about his business and none would know what he watched. But too often, Jon knew it was such an intimacy he never had that he was being forced to witness you have with Robb.

It didn't make it much better, when minutes later Sam came walking up to him with one of Crasters wives standing wide eyed next to him. “What are you doing?”

“This is Gilly. She's one of Crasters..daughters.” The fact that both terms were used interchangeably was vile, but it wasn't the girls faults for that. It was however, Sams fault that he spoke to one of them in the first place, when they definitely weren't supposed too.

With a bit of a shortness he glanced to her, “Hello Gilly.” Eyes flying back to Sam with the same quiet, even tone on his words to allow him to explain himself before Jon lost it. “What are you doing?”

The girl, Gilly, tried to implore to him first. Saying that Sam had told her Jon could help, and he couldn't fathom what in the world Sam had gotten himself into now. Trying to shoot it down, that they weren't even supposed to talk to any of Crasters daughters, Sam interjected. “She's pregnant.”

Oh, Jon was going to throw Sam head first into the snow. Slowly letting Longclaw fall into his lap, he turned his head up to look at him in disbeleif. Talking to one of these girls was one thing, but Sam managed to find one to talk to that just so happened to already- gods help him, Jon already didn't like the feeling he got around Craster and this was not making it any better.

Quietly, Sam managed to get to the point. A point Jon would've rather been anything else but what it was. “We have to take her with us when we leave.”

“What?” All but slamming Longclaw down onto the snow, Jon stood stepping towards Sam as he tried to keep his voice from all but yelling at him. Saying he knows the idea sounded mad, Jon felt as if he was losing his mind. “No, it doesn't sound mad. It's impossible.” The two of them arguing back and forth, as this was the last thing Jon wanted to deal with at that moment.

Gilly interrupting with a more gentle approach then either of the two men before her, “Please Ser, please. I can still run if I have too.”

That did not make Jon feel any better for arguing against it, knowing she seemed desperate for someone to help but she and Sam were asking for something that had no solution from him. His tone quieter, trying to be fair to the girl and staying calm as he looked to her. “It's just not possible.”

Jon couldn't change his mind, but she certainly implanted something there which he suspected she didn't actually mean to do. “I'm going to have a baby, if it's a boy-” Before cutting herself off, mouth agape as she realized how close to a mistake she got.

But Jon wouldn't let that one go. It was one of his first thoughts as they got here. Craster had countless daughters, but not a sign of a son anywhere. No boys were in Crasters Keep which were not men of the Nights Watch. His eyes darker as he looked to her, something less kind and sliding into more demanding as he asked, “If it's a boy, what?” But she wouldn't say. Opening and closing her mouth before choosing the answer of silence, Jon inhaled deeply. Turning to properly look her in the eye, he felt his patience wearing thin over this. “You want us to risk our lives for you, and you won't even tell us why.”

Either shock, or upset, or disbeleif, maybe even a bit of fear Gilly looked between them as she ran off without another word. Sam beside him now louder and much more indignant then he was trying to be in front of the girl, all but scolded him. “Why do you do that?”

Turning his head to look back at him, Jon was back to wanting to shove Sams head in a snow bank as the irritation rose once more. “Do what? Ask her a question?” Sam tried to argue that he was cruel, and that time Jon let his voice raise more to a shout. “Cruel? Sam are you in such a hurry to lose a hand?”

Shaking his head, Sam defending himself as if it really made a difference. “I didn't touch her,”

What he wanted was worse Jon knew, and he was blunt with him about it. The man had said anyone who touches one of his wives loses a hand, and Sam was coming to Jon with something about a hundred times worse. “No, you just want to steal her. What do you think Craster cuts off for that?”

If he wasn't so frustrated over far too much in his life, Jon might have felt bad for the unintentional comparison he put forth as Sam whispered, “I can't steal her. She's a person, not a goat.”

But once more, there was too much on his mind. His father was dead, he didn't know if Arya and Sansa were safe or even alive, he didn't know if Bran and Rickon were safe, and to top it all off he almost every day it felt like, had to watch his brother be King with the woman Jon loved. And if he had to have a vision of you and Robb fucking once more time, he might lose it.

But in fairness, he knew none of that was Sams fault. He came to Jon trying to help this girl, and Jon had to address that without taking his frustrations out on him with it. Collecting himself, Jon knew Sam didn't respond to arguing well, but he did with logic and reason. “We're heading deeper and deeper into wildling territory. We can't take a girl with us. Mormont wouldn't have it, and even if he would, what would we do with her? Whose going to deliver a baby? You?”

Quite literally any answer was the right one except for what Sam actually said. “I could try.” Turning his head away as Jons brows narrowed at him, Sam moreso he suspected was trying to just plead his reasons to himself, he already knew what Jon was saying. “What? I read about it..a bit..”

There was little Jon could do about anything in his own life, let alone this one girls own. It didn't make him feel good, but Jon was as honest as he could be. “I'm sorry, Sam. We can't help her.”

Though, Jon certainly thought to himself later, that he wished they could help. But he wouldn't tell Sam that, beacuse it would mean telling Sam what he saw that night, and every bit of it made Jon feel sick. Realizing Craster was taking his newborn sons into the woods, to seeing one of them walk up and take the child, to the stunningly unsettled revelation that the Old Bear knew about it already.

Jon could only say it to Lord Commander Mormont exactly as it found it in his mind, close to that of a yell in shocked anger, “He's murdering his own children, he's a monster.” But nothing could compare to the inhuman dread building inside of him as Jon gave his own honesty once more, but a strained mutter with something fearful behind it. “I saw it. I saw..something take that child.”

Both men wished it weren't true, but the Old Bear was right as he spoke just as quiet and feared of the unknown about it. “Whatever it was, I dare say you'll see it again.”

In his moment standing there on his own, Jon wondered if you were seeing things as Jon was. If you watched parts of his life now, as he was yours. He hoped not. He didn't want to have seen what he saw take that child, and away at war you had far more to be concerned with then things far north you couldn't possibly understand.

Besides, as twisted as it felt for Jon to watch you and Robb the way he was forced too, he didn't want you to have the same conflict. He could tell you loved Robb, and Robb loved you, that much was certain from the visions in Jons eyes. It tore his heart a bit to think it, but Jon was glad you and Robb had each other, he truly was. And as much as the selfish side of Jon wanted to know if he was still part of your life even as a figure in your mind, he didn't want to get in the way.

He told you that night before your wedding that he wanted you to be okay with the fact that you were going to be Robb's. And that still hadn't changed. His brother deserved to be loved, and so did you.

But these visions Jon kept having, it just made that feel all the more needlessly complicated.

As if things weren't bad enough, as if he wasn't already grappling with what Qhorin Halfhand was about to make him do, Jon was getting the increasing urge to turn around and fling this girl into the closest body of water. He was immensely fed up, but this was his punishment for hesitating too long.

Taking a life like that, his first real one like that of an execution, that wasn't something Jon had done. He fought and killed a wight but taking a human life like that was new. It wasn't as easy as men pretended it would be. But, Jon decided instead of forcing himself to do it, he'd try mercy. So he took the wildling hostage and it all led to this.

They came back looking for him, and it got them captured and killed and now it was only Jon and the Halfhand left. The plan was the same, someone needed to get inside Mance's army and both of them knew they'd boil the Halfhand alive before ever letting him escape with his life. But the man argued that they might be able to trick the wildlings into trusting Jon, and the only way to do that was coming.

Jon still hadn't taken a life. But he was about to, and he was struggling to accept it.

Or, he'd be struggling to accept it more were it not for the bane of his existence making him miserable behind him. Acting as if she was so much better then him, when all she had done was make things worse for Jon. He ended up most nights having to have Ghost sleep in between he and her, beacuse she would try making advances on him in the middle of the night.

Whatever she thought this was, it wasn't. But she was loud, and rude, and hypocritical and wouldn't listen and so Ghost had to protect him at night. She was tied up, and still, Jon didn't really feel safe being asleep around her, so Ghost had to be there. Now that the positions were flipped?

Shockingly, none of the mercy Jon showed, was shown to him. He many times had to almost silently implore Ghost to stay out of it, he needed to do this, and so he needed to put up with this. Thankful, there was something about he and his direwolf that was almost beyond needing words. Ghost understood what was in his head right now, and let it happen, and kept his distance, but were Ghost any closer, Jon knew he'd be able to hear him growling at her.

If her non stop loud talking wasn't the thing giving Jon a headache, it was the way she quite literally, was smacking him with the flat edge of his sword. Smack after smack she would hit him with it and it was really testing him. Ned Stark did not raise his son to hit a girl, but gods Jon would've been about to turn around and hit this one if it wouldn't also immediately get him killed.

“We should be there by sundown. Won't be a fun night for you. Mance knows how to make crows sing. If you know what to say, you might just make it through the night.” Jon never once said anything about the things which would happen to her when he reached his brothers, but there she walked behind him, the glee in her voice about what Mance Rayder was going to do. What torture Jon was to endure come nightfall, as if it was going to be the best part of her day.

Besides hitting Jon in the back of the head for the hundredth time. When did he ever hit her? Right, never. He felt his temper rising, and for the rest of their sakes he hoped not all wildling girls were this obnoxious.

“Not talking's not the way to go.” He had been silent, not any interest in speaking to her, but once more she hit him again.

So Jons patience ran thin, and so did his ability to control the short temper in his words. “Careful with that, you might cut yourself.”

As soon as he said it, he knew it was only a matter of time. Qhorin Halfhand had the advantage of where he walked being able to see the right opportunity, and so Jon knew he was going to have to start attempting to create ones for the man. It had to happen, and just maybe, he'd get Ygritte to shut up for once while doing it. As if he hadn't been training with a sword since he was old enough to hold one, she acted as if it was this easy.

Only, Jon had used a sword that long. Ducking in an instant, he turned to move behind her. Eyes all found them, and Jon needed to keep them on him. As long as it wasn't happening, Jon could work up to what he was going to have to do without quite thinking about it. It wasn't real yet. So he kept the eyes off the Halfhand, and on him instead. “Never swung a sword before, have you? You look like a baby with a rattle.”

It was an easy target he knew, mocking Ygritte with how he knew in a fair fight she'd stand not a seconds chance against him. But she was easily riled up as if she could ever deny it, and so she turned to him in anger as he did her. A brief thought in Jons head that the girl hadn't done anything anywhere near enough to prove that the bravado she held, was earned.

Jon thought however, that it was you who did earn the right to hold that sort of superior attitude, but never would you come close to it. In a sword fight, Jon knew he'd be able to cut a smug, over confident Ygritte down with ease. But Jon knew one thing for certain, you were one who could take Jon on in a sword fight. He taught you not just how to fight, but how to hold your ground against Jon himself and you both always sparred with a playful fun in your eyes. Even this far away, gods help him beacuse Jon could still see bright as ever how beautiful you looked, in memory and in visions of now.

Ygritte just looked like an angry child who wasn't getting her way.

But the Halfhand took the opportunity, knocked down the one holding him captive, stealing back his sword and making his move. Knocking Jon down to the snow, Jon had to find the mindset right away. This was their only chance, Jon had to make this convincing no matter how much he didn't want to do this. But he had to, yelling for him to stop, the Halfhand goaded him into the right mindset like they both knew he would. “Why, traitor? So you can give Mance Rayder an invitation to Castle Black?”

Rattleshirt yelled at the wildlings holding both men back, yelling them to let them fight. Being allowed to grab his sword, Jon and the Halfhand fought. He was good, and he was convincing at seeming angry, but they still both knew, Jon had to be better, beacuse they would never trust the Halfhand. Back and forth they swung, trying to find the grounds to get this right.

But, the Halfhand was smart and knew exactly what needed to be done to force Jons hand into winning this fight, and played right into a weakness. Yelling at him, “Your traitor father teach you that?” Jon moving onto the attack only for the Halfhand to parry, and the final nail in the coffin was landed that had Jons blood boiling just the right amount of steaming red to find the strength, hearing the man yell at Jon, “Or was it your whore mother?”

That anger swam right through him, enough that he swiftly was able to knock the sword from his hand and then in a moment of silence, they both stood staring at each other knowing Jon had to do this. Running his sword right through him, Qhorin Halfhand looked right into Jons eyes with a conviction and trust that they were making the right decision, barley whispering to him almost as a reminder of why they made this sacrifice, “We are the watchers on the Wall.”

Falling dead to the ground, Jon heard nothing around him. No words, no conversation. The wildlings spoke, some maybe to him even, but Jon heard not a single bit of it. All he could do was stand there seeing and feeling how plunging his sword through Qhorin Halfhand felt, and a horrific ill crept up in his throat.

His first kill was a good man, a man who did nothing wrong, who died beacuse Jon failed to kill a single wildling. One of his own brothers of the Nights Watch. The first red staining Jon Snow's hands was a man he wished he never killed, just to convince these people to trust him.

Looking back to see them burning the Halfhands body, Jon wondered how long it was going to take until this sweeping guilt came up from the earth and swallowed him whole.

The guilt wasn't allowed to stay long, before he knew it, he was in their army camp. One hundred thousand wildlings and Jon was being led there to meet Mance Rayder, the King Beyond the Wall. It was now or never, it didn't matter how much Ygritte and Rattleshirt trusted him, Jon needed Mance Rayder to trust him or none of this would ever matter. Ghost slunk silently in the background, keeping his blood red eyes no where but ensuring he was always paying attention to where Jon was. His only protection left, the only tie to who he really was left, beacuse Jon was entering that tent as nothing but a lie.

To be honest, he wasn't what he expected at first. Large and imposing, yes. But there was something rumbling and unhinged in the mans demeanour. Hair a wild orange and a thick beard to match as he ate, not looking up to him yet. His voice was low, and Jon suspected were he to yell, it would rumble the earth like thunder. “I smell a crow.”

Rattleshirt spoke behind him, “We killed his friends.” Jon worked hard to stand there in stillness, keeping his breathing even. He had gotten them killed, it was no ones fault but his for not killing Ygritte when he should have. “Thought you might want to question this one.”

Still, he didn't look at him. “What do we want with a baby crow?”

Ygritte coming to a defence Jon didn't want, “This baby killed Qhorin Halfhand. He wants to be one of us.” Jon was at the very least glad someone bought it, beacuse Jon felt such drowning guilt it felt as if it was painted all across his very face.

The man felt even larger as he stood, Jon looking up at him, blue eyes staring him down harsh with not a hint of impress. “That half handed cunt killed friends of mine. Friends twice your size.”

But that didn't scare Jon, he even had seen a giant out in that camp but every one of them were men, they were all made of the same things. Looking with no more intimidation in his eyes, Jon spoke with a rough truth, “My father told me big men fall just as quick as little ones if you put a sword through their hearts.”

This was an imposing man, not a single ounce of care in his eyes as he rumbled deep in kind. “Plenty of little men tried to put their swords through my heart. And there's plenty of little skeletons buried in the woods. What's your name, boy?” Jon answered, but in a second did it clue in, who he was clearly speaking too.

It wasn't anything but everything he was taught and valued, but he kneeled, “Your Grace.” And everyone in the room laughed. The man before him, found it the most amusing.

Arms reaching out with a bright glint in his eyes as he jested to the others, “Your Grace? Did you hear that? From now on, you'd better kneel every time I fart.”

Then, he stood from the corner of the tent. Tall just like the man before him, but there was a serious air about him that was more then just the orange bearded ones intimidation. “Stand, boy. We don't kneel for anyone beyond the wall.”

Looking at the real Mance Rayder face to face, for a single second Jon thought to himself it was odd that in a way, the man looked as if he'd somehow seen him before. Even worse though, and even though it was impossible, Mance looked Jon in the eye with the confidence no stranger beyond the wall should've had. “So, your Ned Stark's bastard.”

No one here should have known that. Ned was his fathers nickname, bastards weren't even a concept for children here beyond the wall, he'd never met this man before. And suddenly Jon realized, there was something more dangerous about the King Beyond the Wall then he ever knew.

As the others left, Jon had no idea what she wanted at all, but the simple fact that Mance had caught Ygritte giving Jon a look as she left the tent was enough it seemed. “The girl likes you. You like her back, Snow? That why you want to join us?”

Even if he could even slightly tolerate her, Jon would consider himself an utter disgrace of any kind of man, either as man of the Nights Watch, or a man with Stark blood in his veins, if meeting one girl was enough to make him betray his brothers. The other man, found only amusement in the comment that Jon cared not for. “Don't panic, boy. This isn't the damned Night's Watch where we make you swear off girls.”

No, he thought. Jon only swore off one girl.

And right here, in that tent as the only girl these men spoke of was Ygritte, Jon wished you would appear to him here and now. He didn't care what he would have seen, he wanted to see you and only you. Don't lump Jon into the kind of men who jumped from girl to girl as they fancy, he thought.

Jon had a girl. He'd only ever have one. His first girl.

But, he managed to convince them to trust him. Mance knew right away, Jon didn't care about the girl outside, or being free, or anything of the sort. Jon convinced him with the truth. That he had seen one of those things, one of the Others take a baby boy away in the woods. That the Lord Commander already knew. “I want to fight for the side that fights for the living. Did I come to the right place?”

Simply telling him, they would need to get him a new cloak, but Jon did not miss the fact that Mance Rayder, had not actually answered his question.

Jon felt worse then he ever had before in his life. He was miserable, and lying, and everything felt wrong. Who in the seven hells was he anymore? Being with you never felt like this, it never made him feel uneasy, it never made him hate himself, it never made him hide from the truth beacuse it felt sickening.

But he had to lie about it. Beacuse he knew the word. He knew what word was to describe what had happened, what was happening, but he couldn't accept it. Jon was a man. A strong, capable man. He shouldn't be allowed to say that happened to him. He should be a better man then that beacuse everyone would laugh and mock him if he said what he was thinking.

Everyone but you. You'd see through it right away if you saw the way Ygritte was with him, and you'd know the truth Jon was painfully hiding from. You, and Ghost. He had to send Ghost away. She demanded it. It was the only way, they all knew if Jon walked out of that cave without doing it, they'd know he was still loyal to the Nights Watch and they'd kill him faster then he could come up with an excuse.

Ghost wouldn't ever have let it happen, and he almost didn't. His direwolf let a lot happen at Jons order, but this was not one Ghost would stand back from. He would have torn her apart if Jon didn't send him away, and he hadn't seen his direwolf since. It made it all the worse. What he had to do, what she made him do, and how much he felt disgusting for it.

Jon never felt such a deep hatred in himself when he was with you. He'd have you on his bed, perched on his lap with your soft lips against his, part of your dress falling down your shoulders almost exposing your breasts were you not pressed tight against him. He'd guide your covered hips along his covered cock and it was a heaven which was found in your touch together.

So why did he feel dirty, filthy? Like his skin was so covered in a grime he'd have to tear it off just to get it all clean. But he couldn't. He did what he did, and whatever forced pleasure his body found, only made Jon want to scream.

He didn't care that you married Robb, he didn't care about any of that. Even if he'd die without it, Jon would have waited that entire lifetime to share it with you. That belonged to you, just like his heart but Jon let Ygritte take it and it was only a miracle which Jon didn't break down that day.

He had seen you in the middle of it. A vision like before, but this time, his vision was of you telling Robb you were pregnant. The glee shared between you both and the way his brother took you after as Jon was forced to watch as he himself was taken, but by force. But Jon was still here, and so were the wildlings and now he had to pretend he was part of this.

Jon had to pretend Ygritte was who he wanted, and he had to pretend he didn't feel fear now everytime she came close to him, not knowing when she'd just take and take what Jon didn't want to give all over again. He lied to himself, and said this was normal. This was how a relationship felt. In fear and avoidance.

So why, did Jon sit there terrified at the thought that you could see this? If this was real, why did you knowing about Ygritte scare Jon? Why did the idea that you thought Jon moved on, make him feel as if he was nothing but a low life who was betraying you? But now they all thought Ygritte and Jon were with one another, and Jon had no choice other then to pretend like it was all okay.

He couldn't think about how much he missed you, and how desperately he wished you were here instead of her. Being with you felt like Jon and you were born to find one other, being with Ygritte made him feel like a stranger in his own mind.

He knew too, his father would be horrendously disappointed in who Jon had become.

“But I'm your woman now, Jon Snow. You're going to be loyal to your woman. Don't ever betray me.” Sitting next to him she said it with such conviction. But if that was how it was, why did Jon dream of you every single night without failure, why did he still see you in visions day after day and wish he could reach through them and return to you?

But he couldn't say that. She'd kill him here and now. So he just said, “I won't.”

She kept talking, and threatened him as if it was cute and Jon sat in silence feeling ill. He had to love her, he had to. He couldn't do this otherwise, he couldn't think of you. It had to be her, beacuse Jon couldn't handle feeling like he was betraying your love.

You and Jon teased one another, so he had to tell himself, Ygrittes threats and insults were essentially the same thing. You were strong willed, and Ygritte smugly saw herself with a superior opinion, that was the same thing, right? Your touch was gentle, and selfless, and so unbelievably loving, and Ygrittes was selfish and forceful and mean.

Maybe, Jon thought, if he just didn't let her touch him anymore, he could lie about the rest until he believed it. He had nine hundred feet of the Wall to climb, so maybe he could spend that, telling himself his love for you didn't matter anymore, beacuse his survival was dependant on loving her.

But then they got to the top, and Jons world shifted. He could see here and elsewhere, but it wasn't a scenario he watched. Just you. Standing out in the woods, green all around you with red watering eyes and something devastated in them that made Jon want to pull you into his arms, but then you looked up. You looked at him.

Wherever you were, you could see Jon as he saw you. You were so upset, and Jon realized you had seen exactly what he didn't want. You had seen him too, and he wanted to lash out. You looked at Jon, shocked you both were seeing the same vision of the other at the same time, but you also had seen what looked like Jon moving on. It looked to you, like Jon didn't love you anymore.

As soon as you were gone though, Ygritte moved to kiss him. But he rejected it entirely, twisting from her and just walked away, damned the looks they all gave him for it. You had seen him, and now you thought Jon didn't love you anymore and he hated it. He hated this plan, he hated he had to kill Qhorin Halfhand for this plan, and he hated that he gave up the only thing he had left that belonged to you, to her.

Jon never felt more alone then ever.

He always remembered something his father told him. It was after the first time he had gone with him to witness his father carry out an execution. He had told Jon something that stuck so heavily with him every day since.

“The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die.”

Jon since that day, even more so now as a man, tried to live by those words. And today, he had a growing feeling deep in his gut, that it was all coming to an end. The words of his father he lived by was about to clash with the free folk and what they demanded of him. All knelt behind a stone fence, waiting for Orell to return from scouting, and the news he came with only made that prediction of Jons that much stronger. “Only one old man, and eight good horses.”

Tormund turned to Jon, asking why one man would have eight horses, and he was honest about it. “He breeds them for the Watch.”

Discussing what to do, Jons eyes once trained on the grass intently, raised up in a deep protest as Orell whispered with the larger man, “He's got some gold in there, and proper steel. Let's carve him up.”

He knew what he was doing, Jon knew exactly what they were all about to think if he said it but not for a second was any of this right. Roughly he hissed out, “We just take the horses and go. The old man's no threat.”

Jon had gotten good at detecting when Ygritte was putting on a soft tone to manipulate him, and there was no patience left for it in Jons body. He too knew, mercy, was not something she cared about, not with the dangerous blood thirst that ran through her veins. “He’s an old man. A spear through the heart’s a better way to die than coughing up your last with no one but your horses to hear.”

A better way to die he thought, was when the gods fated it too. Not being slaughtered beacuse they wanted to plunder his own livelihood. Not even sparing her a glance, Jon kept his attention on Tormund instead. “The Watch might send a few men looking for a horse thief. They’ll send a lot more to hunt down murderers. “

The strange thing was, Jon at the very least, found it in him to respect Tormunds honesty. He didn't manipulate or lie, he was blunt and honest about his intentions and goals without care of what others thought. But regardless, as he leaned into Jons space and spoke, Jon knew he wasn't going to let these people do this to an innocent man. “I hope so. Killing crows in their castle is tough. Killing them out here in the open, that’s what we do.”

All jumping over the edge, the group made the run across the field and Jon came up with a plan in the seconds it took him to reach it. He knew horses well, and he knew how easy it was to spook them. Not a soul saw him do it but the gods, and that was the only eyes he cared about. Slamming his sword down onto a passing rock, the clink echoed enough to reach the horses ears as they neighed and shifted.

Enough together it would grab anyone's attention. Stepping outside to see what the ruckus was, the old man spotted the group running his way, and moved thankfully quick. Jumping onto one of the horses, the man begun to make his escape as Jon had one last thing to do.

Raising her bow up to shoot an arrow into him, Jon angrily called Ygritte's name. Just enough of a distraction to throw her aim off enough so the man could escape. Her head whipped around to glare at him, and Jon could only avoid her eyes and walk passed her in silence.

If this was love, why was a deep part of him, still scared of her?

By the time they caught up to the old man, it was pouring rain, and getting close to dark. Jon couldn't help the uncomfortable thought, that they had spent a lot of effort hunting down one innocent man.

Ygritte and another shot the man down by plugging his horse full of arrows, sending him flying to the soaking ground as the group all walked up on him. Tormund approached from the opposite side to face him, and the man still with a tough resolve, pulled a knife out and pointed it at him. Jon, turned his head slightly away.

This was who the free folk had hunted down, an old man with but a knife on him and nothing more, just defending his right to be alive. He felt sick.

The ironic thing to him once more, was that it was Tormund who showed the man respect. Man to man, he didn't lie or soften the blow, but was respectful and honest as strange as it seemed as he simply took the knife and tossed it away to the side. “Where were you riding?”

“Doesn't matter now, does it?”

Tormund agreed calmly, that it didn't matter. But, it was the angry yelling of Orell that made Jon feel even worse. “Cut his throat, or he'll tell the crows we're here.” His heart sunk more in his chest, how could he stand here and be part of this, the man didn't deserve this.

Pulling his own blade out, Tormund spoke with a raw honesty, “You understand.”

The old man holding a hand out, looking up to him with one last request. “Let me stand at least. Let me go with a bit of dignity.” Despite everything, Tormund held his hand out and helped pull the man up on two feet, himself.

But Orell, was the one there, who could sense what was going on. He knew what was going on in Jons head and he had poked and prodded at him about not being on their side and it seemed tonight he was going to press the issue just as Jon felt he was reaching his breaking point. “Make the crow kill him.” He moved to get right in his face, voice low and both men knew, that the other knew the truth. “You're one of us now. Prove it.”

But Orell didn't want Jon to kill him, he wanted to expose that Jon was lying once and for all.

Jon knew, if he didn't kill him, he was fighting his way out of here and it would be one against too many to be able to escape easy. Pulling Longclaw out, he let it rest gently at the mans neck. “She looks sharp.” Jon could only nod, maybe, if Jon could do it, it would give the man some solace knowing the blade was good enough to be clean and quick.

But then he'd have to do it. Jon stood there, keeping the sword there as the rain poured around them all and he couldn't stop looking at the man instead of his blade. He was an innocent man, and he stood there hearing his last words, watching him pray to the same gods Jon prayed too. A swirling devastation rose in his mind and in his eyes, why should they get to do this to an innocent man? Why was this who Jon was supposed to become?

Jon looked him in the eye, and heard his final words. So why hadn't he moved yet? They all goaded him. “Do it.” Ygritte was seething anger as she looked at him, and it felt horrible. This was who she thought Jon was, and this was what she thought was worthy of such anger, Jon hesitating to kill one, innocent man.

Jon shifted his grip, as if that was the problem. Tormund yelling at him, “Come on, boy. Go on,” So he raised his sword above him, and Jon knew, this wasn't who he was. Jon looked him in the eyes and heard his final words, but still, he thought, the man did not deserve to die.

His sword fell loose in his grip, as he accepted it was all over. The mask had slipped for good and putting it back was impossible. But just as he did it, Ygritte unceremoniously shot the man dead with an arrow and hell all broke loose.

The fight was chaotic, and just as Jon was almost overwhelmed, multiple men going for him as Orell yelled with an attacking swing, did a figure leap passed them both taking a man to the ground. Turning in shock, Jon saw a wolf, a direwolf and a darker one just as large attack another.

His brothers wolves?

But he had no time to think, Jon fought Orell off, and no hesitation that time, plunged his sword right through the mans chest. Rasping with the most confidence Jon had felt in years, “You were right the whole time.”

The mans eye's turned white in his final moments, and as quick as he fell, did Orells eagle screech. In the mind of his own bird, he attacked Jon, knocking him to the ground and tearing at the skin on his face, trying to go for his eyes before Jon gathered his bearing and knocked him harshly away.

In seconds, Jon climbed up onto a horse, and rode away from them all without a single regret. Only a day later, as he gathered his bearings to plot his path to Castle Black did Ygritte find him. He tried one last time to hopefully get away without issue, playing off what he knew she felt for him, and all it did, was get Jon shot full of arrows so much he felt faint even just riding away from her.

He hadn't had a vision or dream of you in days. Jon could only think in that agonizing ride to Castle Black, that he never wanted to see Ygritte again, and how much he desperately wanted to one day, find a way to see you instead. See you beyond just visions that told you lies. You loved Jon for who he was, and he was a fool for ever thinking he'd love someone who wasn't you.

Ygritte only loved someone who was never real, but you loved Jon Snow exactly as he was. That, was the woman he wanted to see again. And maybe if he were lucky, he'd find a chance. But, when Jon woke up in Castle Black, Sam came to him with news. News of Robb, and news of you, shattering his heart.

Jon knew, he would never get that chance ever again.

“Three dozen bodies with slit throats tossed off the top of the Wall. Seems like that would be a good lesson.” The men all shouted and slammed fists against tables, but none of it helped. None of their eagerness to right the wrong, changed what happened.

As soon as the boy arrived, Jon knew right away, he'd never forget the day Olly came to Castle Black. A boy of twelve telling a horrifying story of losing everything to him. The massacre they had committed and likely he was the only survivor. A hand firm and as comforting as could be sat on Ollys shoulder, as Jon did not hide the way his eyes shined with something unshed. It wasn't the same way or how, but he knew. Jon knew what losing your entire family and home felt like.

He knew what being left alone in the world felt like, and Olly was too young. It wasn't fair.

The worst part though, was that they didn't just do it to do it. They did it beacuse they knew it would cause this reaction. They knew, it would lead to the men rallying for justice. For once as Jon stood there, hoping to be a pillar of any support to Olly, did it feel strange that for once, he agreed entirely with Ser Alliser.

Without Mormont there anymore, Ser Alliser was acting commander. Standing in the middle of the hall, speaking loud and clear the exact thoughts Jon was thinking on his own. “If we go after them, we'll be giving them what they want. They want to draw us out, pick us off a few at a time.”

Maester Aemon sat with the same wisdom as ever, with more then any of them combined it sometimes felt. He was quiet, and all fell even moreso to listen when he spoke. “We have just over two hundred men. And that's including stewards and builders. And me. We can't afford to lose a single man. We must remember our first responsibility. We are the watchers on the Wall.”

Jons head sunk, but not once did his disagree. Qhorin Halfhand did not sacrifice himself to Jons blade so they could sabotage themselves for the sake of justice. No justice could be found if they died before they could protect anyone else. He already had enough of failing to protect the people he loved.

He couldn't protect Robb, he couldn't protect you. So Jon would protect the only thing the gods graced him with left in this world. The Watch and the Brothers now remaining to him.

Admiring Pyps spirit, he insisted there had to be something they could do. But in the quiet, Ser Alliser turned to Jon, both for a serious answer, and he suspected, to test the loyalty remaining in him. “You're a champion of the common people, Lord Snow. What do you say to Brother Pyp's proposition?”

Loyalty however, was all Jon had left. Loyal to the things which truly mattered, and the Nights Watch was not going to be able to protect anyone if they let the free folk slaughter them all. “Mance Rayder is coming. If the wildlings breach the Wall, they'll roll over everything and everyone for a thousand miles before they reach an army that can stop them.”

Robb already lost his Kingdom to the Boltons when they took his life. Jon couldn't let the free folk come and ravage through what of his home, his brothers home, his families home, was left. Jon couldn't save Robb, but he could protect what was left of his Kingdom from this one thing if none else.

Just as Ser Alliser spoke of shoring up Castle Black, did the horn bow. One blast, rangers returning.

And suddenly they all scrambled to get to the tunnel. Only two figures came through barley standing on two feet as they dragged each other. Others helped, some grabbed Grenn and Jon grabbed Edd.

It might be, he suspected, the first time in years that Jon actually, genuinely laughed as Edd strained out in pain, “Thought you'd have blue eyes by now.” Leave it to Edd to be the one to get the first laugh from Jons miserable life, seconds upon his return.

Sitting them both down, freezing and in pain Grenn showed the red marks of the chains that kept them so long from coming back. Edd telling them that they were kept at Crasters by the mutineers, the brothers who killed Craster, and killed Lord Commander Mormont. But the terror hit Jon, leaning down to Edd he rasped out “Are the mutineers staying?”

The answer was what he expected, but also the worst case scenario. Grenn explaining “They're not going anywhere. They've got Craster's food and his wives.”

Edd muttering morosely of the fates that likely were finding them. “Poor girls. Never thought they'd miss their daddy.” Grenn explaining that it was Karl running things, and Jon instantly knew what kind of men that stayed there. Those girls had been through enough with Craster, he couldn't imagine what torture they were finding with men like Karl Tanner keeping them hostage.

Taking a step away from the group, Jon ran a hand over his face realizing what they were going to have to do. They couldn't stay there, they'd be met by Mance Rayders army and they'd sing faster then drunks in a tavern. Once more, Jon thought of the Halfhand. He died for this, the men he was with died for this, that innocent farmer died for this.

They couldn't fail now. Turning to Ser Alliser, Jon's tone was deep and urgent as he cut through the discussion around him. “We need to ride north and kill them all.” Ser Alliser trying to tell him that justice could wait, but Jon interrupted once more, raising his voice as his heart raced. Eyes wide and full of the same dread they all were beginning to sense. “It's not about justice. I told the wildlings we had over a thousand men at Castle Black alone. Karl and the others know the truth as well as we do. How long do you think they'll keep that information to themselves when the wildlings are peeling their fingernails off?”

Voice dropping as his face twisted and narrowed, they were risking too close to the line of loss as he looked up to Ser Alliser. “Mance has all he needs to crush us, he just doesn't know it yet. As soon as he gets his hands on them, he will. Then he'll throw his full strength at us.” Turning to the rest of the men, he let his voice raise, they needed to know how urgent this was has Jon felt. “And even if every one of us kills a hundred wildlings, there's still not a thing we can do to stop them.”

What was worse, was that in a horrible way, it didn't matter that Jon had led men to end the mutineers, beacuse still more death came. This time Jon felt the guilt just as someone else did. But Sam didn't deserve that guilt inside him, and Jon sat next to him that night feeling horrendous, feeling that dark rooted anger twisting inside of him that they couldn't do anything.

They had hit Mole's Town. The closest place North before the Wall, a little run down town where it was mostly known as a place the brothers would sneak out at night to and visit the brothel. It also, was the same brothel where Sam had taken Gilly. Not for that, not even a chance, in fact it was that sort of act which he was protecting her from.

Knowing the kind of men Karl was, or Rast, men who in their free lives outside the wall were killers and rapers, still were in the walls too. And Gilly was one, defenceless girl with a baby who despite the sometimes amusingly quick and sharp attitude she held, was nothing of a fighter. So Sam made a deal with the brothel owner, Gilly would live there and in return she'd cook, clean, and look after the other working girls babies as long as they gave her no other work.

But after Ollys village was attacked, Jon was the one who was the guilty party, not Sam. He had talked him out of going back for her, once Ser Alliser ordered none of them to leave the castle and now that the free folk had rolled through it, Jon knew no one was left. Including the brothers who still snuck out that night.

Jon tried weakly to tell him, “You couldn't have known.” But Sam was grief stricken, and it made Jon feel so much more guilty. Gilly and Little Sam didn't deserve that, none of those girls in Mole's town deserved that, no one did. Sam didn't hide the tears in his eyes, as Jon sat trying to keep down that gut wrenching anger brewing within, which Grenn was not able to hide.

He paced back and forth, shouting the rage that Jon felt inside. “We're just cowering here while they slaughter our brothers?” Edd more calmly behind tried to argue that they were supposed to have been in the Castle, but Grenn grew angrier. Edd and Grenn both had a point, but maybe it would help letting it out as opposed to Jons silence making him feel worse. Maybe not. “Oh, so it's alright then? Black Jack, Kegs, and Mully chopped to pieces 'cause they broke the rules?”

Edd stayed calm at least, “I didn't say it was alright. I'm saying they shouldn't have been there.”

It was a strange time to think it, but Jon could recall the morning after he tried leaving Castle Black to find Robb and you after his fathers death. How easily the Old Bear called him out for leaving, only to placate his fears. “Don't look so terrified. If we beheaded everyone that ran away for the night, only ghosts would guard the Wall. At least you weren't whoring in Mole's Town.”

Sam next to him cut the wound even deeper as he muttered “She's dead because of me.”

Grenn still enraged pacing back and forth, “We pledged to guard the realms of men. We can't even guard Mole's Town.”

Jon had to interupt, he knew Grenns rage, he truly did. But the truth no matter how hard, had to be accepted. The two men hated each other, but Jon knew Ser Alliser was entirely right in ordering all of them to stay within the Castle Black walls. “We can't go after them, you know that. It's what they want.”

Gods help him, he hated that he knew how Sam felt. “Little Sam..as if I cut their throats myself.”

Oh Jon knew too well what that pain was, and it made him feel heavy for not having any words to comfort him over it. Little Sam wasn't his baby and Gilly wasn't his wife, but really, for Sam they still might as well have been. Jon still dreamt every night, a vision of you dying in a pool of your own blood. And he could always see the wounds in your stomach, right where he saw you gently guide Robb's hand to, when telling him you were with child.

Not all of those free folk were bad people, many of them, men like Tormund were just acting as soldiers doing what they knew, what they were told, but it didn't make it any easier. In fact, it made it harder to accept. How on earth did Jon ever trick himself into thinking he could've been one of them.

The mask slipped beacuse Jon refused to kill one innocent man, but by now? How many innocent men, women, and children had been slaughtered since? Olly had described a woman with red hair who shot his father dead, an expressionless look on her face as she walked away. Jon thought to himself, how many have you killed since I left, Ygritte? Is that what she wanted him to become?

You always looked at Jon too highly, always saw him as a better man then he was, but you also always pushed him for more. You saw his potential and supported him no matter what beacuse you believed in him. You never pushed him to be someone he didn't want, never forced him into anything.

You always had a soft spot for children too, you helped raise all of his younger siblings on and off. This would have utterly horrified you. His gut twisted, knowing that you didn't just die that night, but you were slaughtered like an animal right in the stomach where your own child was growing.

Around him, Jon could hear the others trying to assure Sam she might have gotten out, might have escaped somehow but Jon couldn't convince himself to say anything. If Gilly was dead, Jon didn't want to give Sam the pain of false hope. That was equally as cruel as the bloody truth. But as he sat there, it clued in his mind.

Brows narrowing in thought as he connected the dots of the maps he knew like the back of his hand. “If they hit Mole's Town, then we're next.” Looking up with an unnerved distance in his eyes, Jon looked despite knowing he wouldn't see them. Not until they wanted to be seen. “Mance's army must be close.”

Finally, Pyp asked the most pressing question. “How do two hundred men kill a hundred thousand?”

The silence was his answer. Edd circled around to them, pouring ale into each of their mugs as he spoke grim. “Whoever dies last, be a good lad and burn the rest of us. Once I'm done with this world, I don't want to come back.”

All five of them drank together. Their days were finally numbered.

He was trying not to get angry, it wasn't Sams fault. He didn't know. No one knew. He explained it that day the only way someone like Ser Alliser would care about, and from they point on he just let them all say what they wanted about it. None of them would've believed him, and even if they did, they'd mock him for it. Everything Jon was capable of, and yet they'd torment him for not being able to defend himself against one wildling girl.

As if it was that simple. Jon didn't need to be held down to be forced into it, it was far more complicated then that, but no one cared. The only person who would've cared was you, and you were dead, so why should Jon care anymore about people knowing the truth?

But Sam kept trying to ask. “I want you to tell me what it was like to have someone. To be with someone. To love someone and have them love you back. We're all gonna die a lot sooner than I'd planned. You're the closest I'll ever get to know it.”

His hands tensed and untensed, trying to keep himself calm. His men needed him to be calm and in control tonight of all nights. Jon loved you, and you loved him. That was it.

“You know right? Even if I don't say it?”

If Jon could go back and say damn it all, he would've just told you how much he loved you if he knew how this was all going to end. You died thinking he didn't love you anymore, and now Jon was facing death where everyone would wrongfully assume he loved someone who wasn't you.

He tried very hard to divert the question to anything else. “So you and Gilly never-”

They went back and forth about vows and what not but in truth Jon didn't really care. Not now. As they walked, it was only when Jon found themselves alone for half a moment when he finally got fed up enough and turned to Sam. “I didn't do it beacuse I wanted to Sam. I did it to keep myself alive. I don't know what being with someone you love in that way is like.” Your name came from his lips for the first time in months, and it stunned Sam silent. “She died before I could find out. Ygritte is nothing like her. Not even close.”

That ended the conversation. If they died tonight, or tomorrow as they all expected, he wouldn't do it with no one knowing it was you he wanted to be with. Just one person had to know what he had with you was the only real thing he's ever felt. Someone had to know Jon only ever loved you, beacuse you died, thinking that he didn't.

All beacuse of what Ygritte forced him to do.

The barrels all rolled into place, Jon found himself standing next to the man himself. “That's the last of the oil, Ser Alliser.”

Both men stood there, looking out into the darkness as he asked what he already knew. “A hundred thousand you say?” Jon confirmed once more, feeling the same motivated dread he did. “You can say it if you like. We should've sealed the tunnel while we had the chance like you suggested.”

But Jon didn't want to say it. He didn't agree, but he understood why he refused. And pointing out who was right or wrong about what didn't matter now. They were here to do the same thing, defend the same place and people. Hating one another or not, tonight Jon and Ser Alliser stood on equal ground fighting for what they both knew and felt in their bones, was the right thing. “It was a difficult decision either way, Ser.”

“Do you know what leadership means, Lord Snow? It means that the person in charge gets second guessed by every clever little twat with a mouth. But if he starts second guessing himself, that's the end. For him. For the clever little twats. For everyone.” Mormont had tried to help Jon become a leader, and it was him who says he first needed to learn how to follow. “This is not the end. Not for us. Not if you lot do your duty for however long it takes to beat them back. And then you get to go on hating me and I get to go on wishing your Wildling whore had finished the job.”

In truth, Jon wished she did too. Then he wouldn't have to experience the painful reality of knowing what living without you in this world felt like.

When it mattered most, Lord Janos Slynt was exactly what Jon knew he was. A coward. They looked to the fire and the army of Mance Rayder as they stood high on the wall, and the man was the only one of them who panicked. “No discipline. No training. Gang of thieves, that's all this is. I commanded the city watch of King's Landing. Those men obeyed orders.”

What in Seven Hells was this man even going on about? Jon turned to him, yelling without a care for holding back now. “We can't just let them attack the gate,” Janos babbled something about the steel as he lost more and more of his own command. Jon gesturing out, yelling in the cold wind to the sights coming for them. “Those are giants riding mammoths down there. Do you think your cold, rolled steel's gonna stop them?”

If they all made it through, Jon made a note in his mind to thank Grenn later. Coming to him, he leaned over to Slynt with an easy lie on his lips. “Brother Slynt, I've just got word that Ser Alliser needs you below. You're the most experienced man he's got, he said he needs you.”

So he left like a coward, and Jon knew the men up here still needed a commander. He had learned how to follow, and he felt the call to action as natural as it ever had come to him. It was time Jon lead.

Watching as the fight raged on, two giants came down from their mammoths and the worst begun, if they got through it was all over. They used their great strength to begun pulling the gate off and open with ropes, and Jon knew if they did one thing it was they needed to hold that gate closed. If Mance's army got in, it was over, for them, the watch, and everyone who the free folk would rampage over in what was left of Jons home.

Turning to Grenn, Jon couldn't have known how much he was going to regret choosing someone who meant that much to him. “The outer gate won't hold. Take five men, hold the inner gate.” Grabbing his arm before he left, Jon muttered roughly “Hold the gate. If they make it through...”

But Grenn was a fighter if Jon had ever seen one. Not a doubt in his mind as looked back at him. “They won't.”

The night raged onward, and it was a strange sight in the carnage to see Sam coming up behind him. “What are you doing up here?”

An urgency in his voice as Sam relayed the dire state below. “The Wildlings are over the walls. Ser Alliser has fallen. The castle walls can't stand much longer.” One leader high, and one leader low. But now? It all fell onto Jon, he needed to be the leader fighting for the only purpose that mattered. Giving Edd command of the Wall, Jon turned to make his way down the path.

Grabbing Longclaw, he it pulled free with a yell to his men, “Come brothers, now fight with me,”

For a split second, Jon feared it was all over. He stood there, knowing he couldn't kill her faster then she would kill him. Ygritte was angry, upset and kept Jon at bay with an arrow pointed right at him, but this wasn't who she thought he was.

This was the man he always had been, the one he wanted to be. Ygritte forced him to love her as someone else, but he wasn't that falsehood. Jon Snow stood for better then the destruction and bloodshed she raged in favour of.

But perhaps, he used it for once, to manipulate her to his advantage. If he stood there, risking her shot, letting her think he wouldn't or couldn't kill her, then Ygritte wouldn't turn around. And she wouldn't see what was coming her way, just like how Ollys father never saw her arrow coming his way.

The boy stood with a bow in hand, and as she thought it was her Jon was looking at, Jon made eye contact with Olly. He was a good shot, and Jon trusted in that. The nod was to him, not to her, and when the arrows flew, Jon found himself uncaring, as the memories of what she forced him to do flashed before his mind.

Maybe it was cold or cruel, but Jon could feel the filth she made him cover himself in when she would force from him what he never wanted to give her, and he couldn't find it in himself to care when she fell to the ground dead. Jon Snow already lost the woman he loved, and your name sure as hell wasn't Ygritte.

He didn't want to think how many brothers he lost that night, but Jon forced himself too. Pyp was gone, an arrow through his neck and the gods were cruel enough that Jon knew she had done it. He should have killed her that day beyond the wall, he should've just killed her when Qhorin Halfhand was still alive. Beacuse then Pyp would still be alive. The brothers all around him would still be alive.

Tormund was the only one left, the men surrounded him but he was angry and a fighter with rage flowing through him and they all stood back in a degree of fear, instead of fighting him. But Jon, for once, finally didn't care about how Tormund saw him. Walking over with a crossbow in hand, Jon yelled to him. “Tormund. It's over. Let it end.”

Gruffly spitting at him, “This is how a man ends-” But Jon had no more patience for it. Raising it up, Jon shot Tormund in the leg, and just as he yelled out, Jon kicked his blade out his hand and to the ground. He had been the only one with the bravery to get anywhere near the wild man.

“Put him in chains. We'll question him later.”

Jon turned and walked away as his brothers dragged him off. Tormund yelling and spitting in rage, “I should've thrown you from the top of the wall, boy.”

Rasping quietly to no one, Jon didn't really care if he heard him or not. It didn't matter. The dead were all still dead and there was no changing the past. Most who Jon cared about, were still gone after all.

“Aye. You should've.”

It was a terrible idea, but every idea everyone had left was a terrible idea.

Qhorin Halfhand had said it the best all those years ago. “Sneak in, kill Mance, and scatter them to the wind.” And he was right. But no one here was willing to do it, beacuse it was a plan that ended in death for the brave soul who would end him.

Jon had lost his father, brothers, sisters, family, home and you. He had nothing left in the world outside, all he had left was the watch and the brothers who died, after turning to him to lead in the darkest part of the night. As he approached Sam, he knew it would be the last time he saw him too.

But no one here was going to make this sacrifice. Which means it was Jons responsibility, and truthfully, Jon felt as if it was the only path left for him that made sense. Do one last thing, beacuse Jon had nothing else left.

Sam called it a great victory, but he rasped roughly at him the hard truth. “Great victory? Mance was testing our defences. He almost made it through. He has a thousand times as many men. They'll hit us again tonight. Maybe we can hold them off for a day or two, but we can never beat them.”

Walking away Sam realized what Jon was thinking, trying to argue with him not to do it, but Jon kept walking anyways before being told it was a bad plan. In honest, Jon sort of smirked. They were all full of lots of those these days, weren't they? “You're right. It's a bad plan. What's your plan?”

Grenn lay dead, he held the gate just as Jon told him too. Add another person Jon cared about that this was going to be for. Jon was doing this for him now too. He deserved better.

Pulling off Longclaw, he handed it to Sam. “I promised Jeor I'd never lose it again.” Taking it gently, the two looked at each other. The only person Jon had left, and he was about to walk away from him too. “In case I don't come back.”

“Jon. Come back.”

He knew he wouldn't. But Jon walked through the gate anyways. He had one last stand to make that no one else would. Beacuse he was taught to be a leader, and sometimes, leaders had to be the ones to throw themselves on their sword to save the rest. And just maybe, Jon couldn't do any of this anymore anyways.

Walking into that camp, Jon felt little care left for the life he was about to give up.

Only as he stood in Mance Rayders tent, as the two men realized Jon was there to kill him? That's when it all changed. That's when it happened.

Moving outside, men on horseback charged into the camp. More numbers on horses then the free folk knew where they came from, and they had come north of the wall too. Taking down men left and right, Jon knew right away these were not men of the Nights Watch, and they weren't free folk either.

These were soldiers. Real soldiers.

Mance in minutes realized they stood no chance, and yelled a surrender to his people. “Stand down, I said my people have bled enough and I meant it.”

Standing next to him, Jon watched as two riders in the distance approached. The banners he realized, weren't just normal Westeros banners. It was inside a heart set ablaze, but Jon knew the sigil all the same. Beacuse inside that burning heart, was a Stag. A crowned Stag.

Climbing down from their horses, Jon knew it was no coincidence men had come to their aid. Sam and Maester Aemon sent pleas to whoever remained in the Seven Kingdoms to help them, and at the last minute, only one King answered that call.

Without seeing him before, without even hearing a name, Jon knew who came to their aid. Older, much more rough and serious in every way, but he could see it clear as day. He knew what was coming, yet still wasn't prepared for it. It was still too raw.

The man looked at both of them, and found Mance Rayder's gaze. “You're the King beyond the wall. Do you know who I am?”

Sensing nothing that Jon was about to spiral into a meltdown from, Mance simply jested, “Never had the pleasure.” But it was Jon who felt his heart sink in his chest at the truth of who came to help him in the end. It was a connection to the one thing Jon would never let of again. The second man spoke what Jon already knew, but he still felt stunned in his heart hearing it.

“This is Stannis Baratheon. The one true King of the Seven Kingdoms.”

[anxiousnerdwritings]

milf!yandere!Rhaella x the younger!male!Reader from your yandere!Aerys headcanon except make it himbo!Baratheon!brother instead

who will inevitably kill the king and seize the city on Robert’s behalf but Robert uses it to his advantage to name the reader king instead of himself

imagine Cersei’s horror when the Reader opts to marry Rhaella and end the Targaryen dynasty on a more peaceful note

maybe Viserys and Danny are really his kids and lack the crazy Targe genes

Tw: Yandere themes, implied age difference, mentions of forced intimacy, and very brief mentions of miscarriages and stillbirths

Honestly, I love this idea so much! Not only does Rhaella get some much deserved attention and Milf!Rhaella at that 🥰😍 but we get even more Himbo!Baratheon!Reader!!

Since Aerys and Steffon Baratheon were best friends, I could totally see Steffon having fostered Himbo!Baratheon!Reader to King’s Landing around a similar time to when Robert was fostered off to the Vale. I could see Aerys having taken a liking to or grow a certain connection to Baratheon!Reader because he reminded Aerys of Steffon and their youth. It wouldn’t have been until after Steffon’s death that Aerys would look at the Reader in a much more carnal and twisted light than ever before. I could see Aerys having progressively separated Baratheon!Reader from solely being a resemblance to his father and seeing the Reader as his own individual as he grew and prospered in King’s Landing. No doubt that Aerys already had this more messed up desire and infatuation for the Reader stirring within him before Steffon and Cassana perished, it only took on full force and became something much darker after Steffon was out of the picture. Since his friend was gone than Aerys didn’t have to worry about Himbo!Baratheon!Reader being taken away from him back to Storm’s End, or inevitably have Steffon finding out about Aerys’ dark intentions with his younger son. Not that that would have stopped him or deterred him from indulging in his desire but it would certainly have made things more difficult.

Even before this messed up relationship between Baratheon!Reader and Aerys took place, I have no doubt that Rhaella would have held quite the soft spot for the Reader, he would have certainly been a breath of fresh air to her and the Realm alike. Even though the Reader was everything that made up a Baratheon, he had it in him to be so tender and warm. And Rhaella couldn’t help but adore that about the Reader. Not to mention how happy and easy going Baratheon!Reader always was naturally and genuinely, even in the face of imminent danger or death. And it wasn’t in an arrogant or hubristic way either, the Reader just took what came his way with a bright smile and a hearty laugh in tow (unless the situation called for him being serious and that could be scary) or he may have been too stupid to realize the severity of some of the situations he found himself in, no matter what it was that’s what made him so him.

Instead of being envious or resenting the Reader for the attention he got or the way people so easily flocked to him and of their own free will to do so without so much as any prompting on Himbo!Baratheon!Reader’s part, Aerys would become even more possessive of keeping Baratheon!Reader by his side. This would also certainly garner his mistrust and paranoia of the people around him and everyone else in general, excluding the Reader. At least to some extent but most, if not all, of Aerys’ paranoia directed towards the Reader would be solely due to his fear of the Reader abandoning him.

In the moments when Aerys would force both Himbo!Baratheon!Reader and Rhaella into being intimate with each other for his twisted entertainment, the Reader would be able to take Rhaella’s mind off of the extremely messed up situation and Aerys’ existence entirely. No matter what it is if the Reader is involved it’s like it’s just the two of them in a world all to themselves and she couldn’t be more content staying like that. In a fucked up way, this gross situation purely for Aerys enjoyment couldn’t have been a better excuse for Rhaella to be able to be with the Reader in such an intimate way that didn’t involve her breaking her marital vow or forsaking the Realm and the gods of her own accord. And surely she and the Reader would be bonded due to going through with having to deal with Aerys like they have to but they’re also connected physically now because of what Aerys has made them do. Not to mention if Rhaella did fall pregnant with Baratheon!Reader’s child/children.

I could see Cersei making Jaime promise her that he would keep an eye on the Reader for her when he becomes a Kingsguard, or rather she would coerce him into becoming her eyes and ears when anything had to do with the Reader when she couldn’t be there herself. Cersei would hate not being able to get to be with the Reader, she would really envy Jaime for getting to be physically so much closer to Baratheon!Reader than she could be (at least until she and the Reader were to be betrothed and then married, little does she know). I’m sure she even went as far as trying to get her father to allow her to stay in King’s Landing while he was Hand of the King so she could actually be close to the Reader but Tywin wouldn’t let her, not when Aerys was increasingly becoming unhinged (especially regarding anything that had to do with the Reader). When Robert’s Rebellion does inevitably take place, Cersei would absolutely be terrified for the Reader and his well-being. Not only is his eldest brother going against the Crown but Himbo!Reader himself is basically the King’s hostage now. Not like the Reader hasn’t been the King’s hostage this entire time but that’s here nor there. Her complete and utter joy once the rebellion has been won and it comes back to her that Himbo!Baratheon!Reader is safe and sound would be absolutely immeasurable. She literally cried once she heard the Reader was alive and well. Then it comes out that Robert has instead made the Reader king, Cersei can’t help but be overjoyed with the idea of being his queen. Sure she was perfectly content just being his lady wife so long as she had him but this was so much better. She and her darling would be the ultimate power couple of all of Westeros! That is until her world comes crashing down around her upon news of her darling choosing to marry the late Mad King’s sister-wife and queen. Cersei can’t believe it, she is absolutely gut-wrenched and torn apart. She wouldn’t leave her bedchambers for days, weeks, months even. She couldn’t bring herself to eat or sleep, she would be an absolute wreck.

Jaime feels torn; he feels for his sister, he truly does, after all who wouldn’t seeing their family and someone they care so much about in a state like that but he’s also grateful that Queen Rhaella will have a far better husband than Aerys ever was. Sure, Jaime doesn’t necessarily like the Reader, or rather he’ll never admit to liking the Reader but he does acknowledge that Himbo!Baratheon!Reader would be much, much better towards Rhaella. He may even think that he can bring his sister’s spirits back up but he couldn’t be more wrong which only shows him just how much more she cared for the Reader than she did for him.

Also, I don’t doubt for a moment that Himbo!Baratheon!Reader and Rhaegar were friends and pretty close to one another ever since the Reader was fostered to King’s Landing. Baratheon!Reader’s personality and overall liveliness would have immediately drawn Rhaegar in. Watching someone who enjoyed life and all the people around him so genuinely and unabashedly, not to mention seeing it be given in return tenfold would certainly strike a cord with Rhaegar. The relationship between the Reader and Rhaegar would definitely add to the Rebellion. I like to imagine that Rhaegar was attached to and trusted the Reader so much that he would have shared his prophecy with him. He would have opened up about his endeavors and what he was trying to accomplish, giving the Reader complete insight and understanding of what was going on which would only result in the Reader questioning his brother’s rebellion and whose side he should really be on. I also don’t doubt that Rhaegar either would have told the Reader in advance that Lyanna wasn’t stolen away or he would have the Reader their in person as a witness to their marriage (maybe Himbo!Baratheon!Reader even had a side thing going on with Rhaegar and or possibly Lyanna too and was involved in the making of Jon Snow🤷🏻‍♀️). Either way, his friendship with Rhaegar would certainly lead to some mixed feelings about his brother’s rebellion and the aftermath. Of course Baratheon!Reader is aware enough to see and understand both sides but he’ll be left feeling some type of way after Rhaegar’s death. Don’t even get me started on Himbo!Baratheon!Reader’s relationship with Elia. He would have been so good to her and her kids, protecting them from Aerys’ ire and even saving them from their fate at the hands of the Mountain. Let’s just say, Elia and her children would have been very much alive and safe, thriving in Dorne when everything takes place in canon. Not to mention, Dorne would be in debt to Himbo!Baratheon!Reader for saving Elia and her children, being 100% allies to the Reader and him solely. Also, if Himbo!Baratheon!Reader didn’t end up marrying Rhaella then he would have most likely married Elia.

I haven’t even talked about how Rhaella would react to everything. First off, she would be so supportive of the Reader being king, honestly anyone who wasn’t her brother-husband would probably end up being better than Aerys in general but Himbo!Baratheon!Reader certainly has her full support and loyalty. She is of course affected by Rhaegar’s demise but she also understands that that’s a part of war and that was what the consequences of Rhaegar’s actions led to. She undoubtably would mourn the death of her eldest son and what could have been if things had been different but this was her new reality and she would go forth with it for young Viserys and baby Daenerys’ sakes. Rhaella, along with so many others, would be surprised to hear that Robert isn’t taking the throne and the seven kingdoms for himself but rather choosing to give it all to Himbo!Baratheon!Reader to rule as he pleases. Robert never wanted the iron throne or the seven kingdoms, he wanted Lyanna and with her gone he just wanted to grieve without having to carry the unnecessary responsibility of what came with being King, so he picked the best person for the job and washed his hands of it all. A good majority of people couldn’t be happier that Himbo!Baratheon!Reader was to be king, especially Rhaella, and to see how he would salvage what Aerys left behind. Imagine everyone’s shock and surprise when it’s announced that Himbo!Reader would be taking Rhaella as his wife and queen. I like the idea of the Reader having brought it up to Rhaella behind closed doors first to see if she would be accepting and comfortable with it. She would absolutely be caught off guard to say the least but she’s also secretly giddy just thinking about it. The Reader would give a few reasons for his decision, two prominent reasons being to keep peace with the Targaryen Dynasty and also given what they endured with Aerys both together and separately (not to mention he may have very well fathered Viserys and Daenerys himself😅). Rhaella would certainly be taken aback but she can’t help but feel butterflies in her stomach, excited and anxious for her new life with the Reader and being able to bear his children.

Speaking of which, Rhaella would fear that she would face similar complications when it came to trying to conceive with the Reader, she was already so lucky and thankful for being able to have Viserys and little Dany after all the miscarriages and stillbirths she went through with her other pregnancies with Aerys. Imagine her absolute joy and happiness if she and Himbo!Baratgeon!Reader were to end up having a bunch of happy and healthy children without any problems both during and after the pregnancies. If that were the case, and she so hoped and prayed that it would be, Rhaella would be absolutely over the moon with her new life and happy, loving family. It would be all hers and Aerys wasn’t there to keep her from enjoying it. And she would finally get the love and happiness she desperately wanted and needed. No longer would she have to put up with the abuse and mistreatment that Aerys directed towards her, she would now be tenderly loved and cherished by someone who could appreciate her in every way possible. With that being said, there was no way in seven hells that Rhaella would let anything come between her and her darling now. She already had to put up with and endure a lot, she has every right to want to keep what she has now all to herself. Hopefully it won’t result in her taking on some of her late brother-husband’s excessive traits but even then at least she could play it off, unlike Aerys.

[spicy30]

Unsettling Beginnings

Pairing: Daario Naharis x Tall!Baratheon!Reader, Jon Snow x Tall!Baratheon!Reader (separate)

cw: Death

Rating: 16+

tags: AFAB reader, no use of Y/N

(Not Proofread)

“A name worthy of grace and beauty, my lady,” the wet nurse complimented the name of the babe, who had only been born a week ago.

“Everything seems fine. She is strong despite early troubles; however, this next week will be crucial to see if she survives without any… setbacks.” Stannis turned to the maester. “Setbacks?” What setbacks could this child have? She absorbed her brother in the womb, and as far as he was concerned, she had double the strength of any other babe he’d ever seen.

“Well, we do not know if the complications of her suffocation will have any effects on her mind or her body. Along with that remains the absorption of her twin—”

“Stannis, come! She smiles! Our daughter smiles for the first time!” Both he and the maester turned to face the child in his wife’s arms, smiling and squirming as she attached herself once more to her mother.

Stannis stared at his own creation, a creation who killed her brother and absorbed him, a creation whose hunger never seemed to cease, a creation that seemed to smile when her actions regarding her brother were mentioned. Her first smile at that. She would’ve truly been a great warrior if she had been born male, though he supposed that his son was shining through her.

...

“Well?” Stannis approached the king, his brother, the grand Robert Baratheon—the man who seemed to mock his every move. His brother, who made his primary residence, Dragonstone, a forever punishment for letting the Targaryen children slip from him. His brother, who was never really his brother; his brother, who chose Eddard Stark—or in other words, his beloved Ned Stark—as his real brother. Stannis knew that if it weren’t by chance that he was his brother, his child wouldn’t even be blessed by the king. In all honesty, Stannis didn’t care much for the tradition. It was clear that Robert still blamed him. He would rather take his child back to Dragonstone than have her blessed—or rather cursed—by Robert.

Stannis watched as his older brother looked toward his girl with an indifferent eye.

“Does she not walk yet? And where is your son? I was told you were having twins—a boy and a girl. I only see a girl.” Robert spoke as he watched the young babe squirm in Selyse’s arms.

“She can walk, your grace, and run,” Selyse spoke as she tried to calm the child. “She simply…” Selyse put the child down, and to Robert’s surprise, the child began to crawl. “Choose not to. She learned to run before walking, then she learned to walk before learning to crawl. And now that she has discovered crawling, she refuses to walk or run,” Selyse spoke as she watched her child crawl around the throne room.

It was funny—a child who learned to run before learning to walk or crawl. Who had ever heard of such a thing?

Robert scoffed at the thought of it. He watched as the child crawled to his guard only to turn away at the last moment.

“Is your son as curious as this one?” Robert looked away from her to his brother.

“There was no son.” Stannis clenched his jaw before speaking as he looked to his creation, who began to stand and tug on one of the cloaks of the guards in the throne room.

“Another girl, then?” Robert turned his attention to the babe, who was now attempting to bite a piece of armor off a guard before Selyse attempted to grab her. She would not release the guard’s cloak, which she had grabbed again. He watched as the guard looked at the babe and her mother, unsure of what he should do.

“No other girl or babe,” Stannis responded. Robert looked toward his brother.

“I was told, twins. Was your maester wrong, then?” Robert sat on his throne, looking down at Stannis, who looked back up at him. Gods, he had forgotten how forward he had to be with his brother to get an answer.

“No.”

“Are you going to have me sit here for days and guess for myself, then!?” Robert shouted. It was truly frustrating to speak to his brother. It felt as if he were speaking to a wall.

“She absorbed him in the womb,” Stannis explained as his daughter finally let go of the cloak and turned her attention to the helmet, reaching out to grab it as her mother walked toward him. She began to fuss and made that face he knew she made before she began crying. Before she had the chance, a loud laugh erupted, scaring her. She looked toward his brother with a shocked face before making the face again, hiding in her mother's shoulder.

“She ate her own damn brother!?” Robert exclaimed, laughing. “That little girl devoured her brother in the womb?” He laughed at the thought that the child who hid on her mother’s shoulder had actually taken her own brother's life before it even began.

“Should’ve named her the Devourer! It’s a shame she was born female. If she were male, a legendary soldier she would’ve made. A shame. But her brother, bested by a girl—I don’t think he would’ve amounted to much.” Robert did not doubt that if she had been born male, she would be nothing short of him in his glory days. There was great promise in her future. One way or another, she would make something of herself. It seems that the hope for the Baratheon lineage hadn’t fallen through.

“Come, bring her here so I may exact my blessing on the little one.” Robert watched as Stannis took his child from Selyse and walked toward him. As Robert looked at the child in his brother's arms, he reconsidered his position in court. He was already named Master of Ships with primary residence in Dragonstone, but perhaps he could make room for him here in the Red Keep. Cersei was due to have their first child together in a couple of moons, in any case. A shame he couldn’t have Ned here to raise their children together as they were raised, but perhaps his brother’s daughter could result in the mending of families.

Stannis handed his daughter to the septa, who brought her to Robert as he extended his hand over his daughter.

“By the power bestowed upon me by the grace of the Seven, I, Robert of the House Baratheon, First of My Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, bless…” The words were empty as Robert spoke them. He had said them a thousand times to the children born of noble families. They didn’t mean a damn thing.

“Right, well now, Stannis, I invite you and your family to stay to celebrate the coming first name day of your first daughter here.”

...

The sight in front of Stannis was less than pleasing to the eye. The sight of the head of House Baratheon and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms stuffing his face full and only stopping to drink or eye one of the servants was something that would prompt anyone to lose their appetite.

“Yes, now I remember why I never invite you to things,” Robert spoke, looking toward Stannis.

“This is a feast in honor of my daughter. I celebrate by focusing my attention on her,” Stannis replied, holding his daughter in one hand and putting up some meat for her to gnaw on.

“Let the girl breathe,” Robert spoke as he chewed. “You! There!” Robert yelled toward the nearest servant, who pointed at himself. “Yes, you, go bring the Princess of House Baratheon her gift!” Robert grinned as the boy left.

Stannis watched as his daughter reached out for another piece of meat. “Every boy must have his own hound. Your boy is inside her; why not give her a hound to go along with him?” Stannis turned his attention to Robert and the small dogs in his hands, which the servant had given to him. One was white, while the other was gray. Stannis felt his daughter squirm out of his lap and onto the floor as she waddled over to her uncle, who put the dogs down as she and the dogs interacted. The dogs were energetic, leaping onto her and licking her as she fell. Stannis quickly got up to pick her up as he looked at the dogs, unimpressed.

“Let her be, Stannis. She’ll be fine. It’s not like the things will bite her.”

“They might,” Stannis retorted as he dusted her off.

“They are hunting dogs and war hounds, purebred too. They grow as big as wolves and are used to hunting elk, stags, and wolves. During wars, they were used to rip men right off the back of their horses. They’re fast too. I have parents, gifted to me by the Tyrells. An old and prestigious breed. Wolfhounds, they call them. Only a few families in Westeros own them. Both males are of the same litter. The white one is named Fionn, and the gray one is Ronan.”

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Note: In ancient Ireland, owning an Irish Wolfhound symbolized status and nobility. Only kings and noblemen were allowed to own them, and they were often given as gifts to important dignitaries. The names Ronan and Fionn, or Finn for short, are of Irish descent, both having different meanings. Ronan means ‘little seal,’ alluding to the rough, wiry coat of gray. Fionn or Finn means ‘fair’ or ‘white,’ again alluding to the color of the dog.

To be added on Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaiden Pt 23

(Cersei Lannister x Fem Reader, brief one sided Lancel Lannister x Fem Reader. Disclaimer: While Lancel's age is unstated in the show, in the books he is canonically 17. However, since the show ages everyone up by 2-3 years and we've been going by Show ages instead of Book ages so far , Lancel in this fic would be 19-20.

SMUT: male masturbation )

AO3 version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

Lannister Reign over the continent seemed to be solidifying with every passing day One Baratheon brother dead, the other cast back into the sea. Jaime was off fighting for control of the Riverlands against the Stark pup. Joffrey on the throne with his grandfather as Hand to the King, and Cersei looming over all shoulders, waiting for something to do.

She needed a distraction. Something to take her mind off the thoughts barreling through her brain.

There were the usual concerns, of course. Her dreadful little brother. The Stark Girl, who was more use to them alive but sulked around the keep like a kicked dog.

Speaking of dogs.

She shook her head.

Don't think on that, there's no point to it.

And yet she couldn't stop herself. She pictured you that night, standing in the darkness of your quarters with knowing eyes that looked almost eager for the Queen to get closer. Cersei couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she had forced you into the Holdfast with the other ladies.

You'd still be here, of course.

But that look you gave Cersei. A look to chill the blood of even the most hardened of warriors. It was the look of a predator just waiting for its prey to move into the perfect position.

But that was nonsense, Cersei knew that.

You were devoted to her, even in anger. Each time Cersei sent you away, you had always come back. You never would have left her Queen's side if you hadn't been forced to.

This was the delusion Cersei labored under for weeks, even now despite the idea being brushed off by everyone else.

She brought her distress to her father and Joffrey, and both looked at her like she had grown a second head.

"Forgive me." Tywin squinted slowly as if he didn't understand. "But it is my understanding that upon marriage, a wife becomes as one with her husband both spiritually and legally. Lady Clegane is the man's wife, therefore there can be no issue of kidnapping."

"All the same" Cersei fumed, outraged that they would not see sense. "He should be found and hanged as a deserter. If we find him, we find Lady Clegane."

"We are at war" Joffrey scoffed, "We do not have the spare men to send after a stray dog and his bitch."

Cersei wanted to pull his ear for that. She had been unprepared for the harsh change in her dynamic with her son. He no longer listened to her and did not seek her advice or her counsel.

When he discovered the truth of Robert's many bastards, he sent the city watch to slaughter them all, grown and babes alike.

When Cersei heard of this, she was stunned. Yes, it solved the issue of the truth Jon Arryn discovered, but it also gave those who resented Lannister presence a rallying cry against Cersei and her family

"The Queen Slaughters Babies" Tyrion had said with a dark smirk.

Tywin insisted Cersei at least try to keep some kind of control over her son, but the boy king resisted with every attempt.

That made it sting all the more when Tywin himself succeeded where Cersei had failed with her child.

Tywin had him settled, more willing to thin before acting, and betrothed to Margery Tyrell, whom Cercei resented and watched carefully.

If you were here, Cersei thought, you would know what to say to cheer her. You would call Margery a snub-nosed little girl and laugh with Cersei at the very idea of such a welp replacing her.

"She could never hold a candle to you, Your Grace" you would say, cheeks rosy and eyes smiling. "Rose or not."

Why had you left? Cersei knew why, she wasn't stupid.

She did regret what had happened. You had wanted that baby so badly. I should have just had that dog put down, Cersei thought to herself, that would have been enough.

Yes, it would have hurt you, but you would have gotten over it. You would have had your baby to look after, and Cersei by your side.

Cersei allowed herself to linger on this alternative path, as it was so much more pleasant than her current reality.

Cersei would have moved you closer to the royal quarters, perhaps even into her rooms. The babe would be attended to by a nanny and wetnurse, as all highborn children were.

I could have given them more, Cersei frowned.

A head start for the boy, he would have been set to be someone's squire. Perhaps Jaime's. From there he could take on the role his father had taken, sworn sword to the King's children. Or, on the off chance the boy had been small, unfit for the battlefield, he could have even been sent to Oldtown to be educated.

Would she have loved him? Cersei wondered. Not as she loved her own children, surely. But, he would have been the apple of his mother's eye. I would have cared for him, Cersei decided firmly, not loved, but cared for.

And how well you would have thrived as a mother. You were so good with little Tommen and Myrcella, it would have come naturally.

After The Hound died, what would be done with you?

You could remain forever a widow, that would be the preferred route. You could not be trusted not to love, and in Cersei's view, it was only natural for everyone to fall in love with you eventually.

If the silly fool had been smart enough not to fall for her first husband, none of this would have happened.

If you did remarry though, it would have to be a weak man. One who did not ask questions and did not interfere.

She had thought the Hound good at not interfering. Perhaps Cersei had been blind to it, but he had never seemed resentful of your affections for your Queen. But why else would he have stolen you from the Keep in the Night like a common thief?

you must be so worried, Cersei realized.

Did you know they had won? That they were still alive?

The poor dear was snatched up and swept away like a maiden in a story, she thought fretfully, you must be so confused and frightened.

Enough of this. Cersei slapped her palm to the smooth table top she sat at, nursing a goblet of wine. If they would not do anything, she would.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"You asked to see me, your grace?"

"Yes, come in." Cersei eyed the sell sword up and down. To consider this man a knight would be an affront to the very notion of chivalry, regardless of the "Ser" they put before his name.

"I find myself in need of some help." She began. "I have a problem, and the crown has made it clear they will not intervene, so I am seeking outside assistance."

Bronn nodded understandingly. "May I ask as to the nature of the problem?"

"My favorite, The Lady Clegane, do you know her?"

"Know of her, the uh…" He tried to find a word he could get away with in the present company, "the pretty one the Hound married. I saw her."

"She was kidnapped by her husband from the keep the night Stannis attacked the city. I want her brought back, and I want that barbarian's throat slit."

Bronn considered this. "That can be arranged. It'll take some asking around though, not many men would be willing to track down a man that big and that good with a sword. And they'll be asking for a pretty penny to do it."

"Money is of no object, I assure you," Cersei smirked. "I want her brought back alive and unharmed."

"I'll find the man for the job, your grace." Bronn smiled coyly, "Of course, there is a matter of a finder's fee…"

"Find me a man who can do the job. If he comes back alive with Lady Clegane unharmed, you will be rewarded handsomely." Cersei assured him.

Bronn's grin widened at this, "I will start straight away, Your Grace."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Lancel stared at the ceiling over his bed blankly.

His wound still burned with infection, and his brow was damp with feverish sweat.

The Maester said he would have died if not for the quick dressing of his wound. He had you to thank for that, he thought fondly.

He made good his vow to Clegane and told his father to find him a wife that could get him out of King's Landing, and Kevin Lannister acted swiftly, glad to see that his son was finally taking adult responsibility seriously.

But while the Frey girl Kevin had betrothed him to was kind and plain-faced with noble intentions, Lancel's mind could not help but stray.

He hated himself for it. It was an affront to the gods, disrespectful to the man who had covered his crimes, and dishonored the very lady his affections yearned for.

His soul was still wracked with guilt, how he had been the one to summon you to Cersei's chambers that night. He had no way of knowing what would happen, he told himself, no way at all.

And even after what happened, when he confessed before you and your husband the Queen's crime and his unintentional part in it, though he might die, and if he did it would be well deserved.

But instead, you bore him no ill will, neither of you did. You had even taken valuable time to tend to his wounds when he was injured. "Come with us" you had urged him, and he wanted to follow so badly.

But his honor would not allow it, nor his pride.

And in the end, they won, despite everything.

When the battlefield cleared, Lancel found he could not judge Clegane for what he had done. Win or Lose, nothing would have changed for you. You would still be trapped, your son would still be dead, and you would have to look into the face of your child's killer every day.

He could still picture the beach, war raging only a few hundred yards from them as you held his hand in yours.

Even in plain wool, stripped of any court finery that might have disguised you for a snobbish highborn, you were still so beautiful.

Had Clegane not been there, had they been alone on that beach, would Lancel have dared to kiss you as he had so wanted to in that moment?

It was horrible to think, he knew that. You were a married woman, with a husband who not only loved but respected you. And you were his senior by ten years or more, what could you ever want with someone like him? Little more than a boy in tin armor with a toy sword when compared to The Hound.

As he pondered in the darkness, the arm on Lancel's good side began to move over his hip to rest on his lower stomach. Absentmindedly his long fingers played at the edge of his waistband.

He wished you were here. You had been so kind, so attentive when you nursed his wound as he sat on your bed. Even in the midst of the pain and the noise of the battle still ringing in his ears, the touch of your hands on his body was startlingly gentle.

He imagined how soft your touch had been on his face, all those times you had cupped his cheek gently, in the cellars by candlelight, in the garden surrounded by flowers. How those soft hands would feel against his bare chest, nursing him still with those sad eyes. How you'd press a cold cloth to his brow to soothe his fever.

"My poor Lion" he could hear you breathe, "Let me take care of you."

He gasped as your small hand gripped the length of his shaft and stroked him slowly but firmly. He did not protest, only whimpering with need as you leaned over him to plant a kiss on his brow. Your chest hovered just out of his reach until you drew him close and laid his head on your breast.

"Sweetling." You coaxed him gently, "You must rest, let me help you."

He nodded in agreement and very nearly cried out as you picked up the pace, lavishing tender attention on his sensitive tip each time your fingers pumped his cock.

"Please" he whined, face buried in the warm softness of your breasts as the sensation overwhelmed him. The beckoning smell of your hair, the musical tone of your sweet voice. "Please. I need you; I need you; I love you. Please."

You laughed lightly at his gasping chant, watching his hips buck against your hand.

"I know, darling, I know. Just breath. You're doing so well, so close."

His release came quickly, and just as soon as you were there, you were gone. Your warmth replaced by a cool pillow; your small soft hand replaced by his own nimble fingers.

Even as he traced the sensitive tip of his cock, drawing out more jerks and whines, Lancel felt a wave of shame wash over him.

But more powerful than shame was desire. The desire to sleep, the desire to dream. Perhaps you would visit him again tonight if he was lucky.

[multi-fandom-fanfiction]

Requests I have (if you don't see yours please let me know)

Jamie and Cersei Lannister X Daughter!Reader (Platonic)

(Cersei wants to marry off there daughter but she is Jamie”s pride and joy and wont let that happen)

FP Jones X Reader (Smut) (FP Jones x reader!Andrew!rough)

Joffery Baratheon X Sister!Reader (Platonic!!!) he’s sadistic like joffery? that’s the reason they’re really close and trust each other more than anything

Joffery Baratheon X Sister!Reader (Smut) (joffrey imagine where him and his sister (2 years older) have always had sexual tension but they never saw it that way and one night while she’s changing joffrey bursts through the door angry about something but stops when he sees her. both of them at this point are horny for each other and he comes up to her kissing her while he grabs her breast and shes kind of in shock still but melts into it and yeah they have sex on the bed and take turns topping each other)

Ramsay Bolton X Sister!Reader (Smut) (Ramsay (got) has a younger sister and they often have intercourse, but this one night Ramsay brings Reek, his father and mother into readers room and ties them up. He tells them to watch. So Ramsay and her have really rough sex and tells them to look at her and makes her look at them to make sure they knows how good Ramsay makes her feel. When they’re done they kill them)

Betty Cooper X Fem!Reader (damn! i would have never imagined myself being with betty but when i was reading your post, u couldn’t stop myself from smiling! soft girlfriends haha. i love it! 💖💖💖 could you do something like this but as best friends with cheryl/toni or even both if it’s not too hard for you? i wanna see where it would go!)

Daenerys Targaryen X mercenary!male reader (The reader is a mercenary whom Cersei hires to kidnap Daenerys shortly after she arrives at Dragonstone. But instead of bringing Dany to Cersei, the mercenary decides to keep her for himself and tame her into becoming his willing lover)

Cersei Lannister X Fem!Reader (The reader faints in Cersei"s arm)

Petyr Baelish X Baratheon Fem!Reader (Semi Requested!) (Now that all of her brothers are gone Robert"s legitimate daughter has risen to be seated on the throne. Her council is demanding a husband what will the new queen do!)

Robb Stark X Baratheon Fem!Reader (Hey I love your work! Could I request some angsty robb stark x reader? Maybe reader is Cersei and robert’s true child and was married off to robb. Cersei is very distressed about your wellbeing when the war breaks out and when she learns of the plans of the red wedding, she begs her father to spare you. He does but at a price for your continued show of hatred of the Baratheons and lannisters. Letting you have to watch as robb dies and returning you home without realizing you’re pregnant.)

A wolverine request but I can’t find the info (so if you requested a wolverine request please resend it)

1.Twisted Desires

Dean, Sam, and Y/N Winchester were trapped together from the moment John found yellow eyes had killed the mother of his child was killed by yellow eyes in 1988 exactly five years after his wife and mother of his eldest two children were murdered by the same demon. The three lived by there father’s code doesn’t go somewhere twice and you don’t stay long. They never got to make friends so they were all each other had so maybe it was a flower in the attic complex. The three siblings loved each other far more than anyone else ever but maybe Sam and Dean’s love wasn’t a way older brothers were supposed to love their little sisters and Y/N’s love wasn’t a way a little sister should love her brothers. But they controlled themselves the best they could. Sam went away to college and Y/N and Dean continued until Sammy got home. The three of them wouldn’t admit it but they needed each other but one night after all three Winchesters were frustrated over a particularly hard case and tightened sexual tension. Sam threatens to leave and Dean tells him to go. What happens when Y/N breaks down and begs him to stay? Will she confess how she feels or will there twisted desires remain hidden?

1.Going against the gods

Ivar the Boneless always felt like everyone tortured him everyone but his perfect goddess like Y/H/C (Your Hair Color) hair and Y/E/C (Your eye color) little sister. She was made for him she loved all her brother’s but Ivar knew he was her favorite. Whatever he wanted she gave him whatever he wanted her to do she did. When he killed Sigurd she didn’t call him a monster and never talk to him again. She began to cry and beg the gods to let him into Valhalla but not before Ragnar’s only living daughter took his hands softly and told him he needs to work on his temper but she still loved him. When Ubbe and Hvitserk boarded the boat she refused yelling, “He needs us I will not leave our brother and I will not choose between the three of you.” Though his sister began to distance herself after he married Freydis and realized he was a god. She began to pull away from Ivar and with ever pull there was a slide closer to there older brother Hvitserk. Ivar didn’t like it and as king he had to stop it even if that meant going against the gods.

1.Love At First Sight

Okayyy so It Would be the little sister of Scott (cyclops) and Alex(Havok) wich would fall un Love With logan the first Time she sees him☺️(3

1.I never stopped loving you

Billy Hargrove and Y/N Harrington were young and in love many years ago in high school. They broke up because Billy didn’t know his worth. Billy stayed in Hawkins went to a trading school and opened a garage. He even started steadily with a new girl after Y/N never came home at Christmas and then summer. She went to a big college a few states away her way of escaping her family even though Billy always said she was running from him and his messy life. A few weeks after moving to college she finds out the biggest shock of her life. She was carrying Billy Hargrove’s baby. Only one person knew, her twin brother Steve Harrington. Now four years later Billy is engaged and Y/N is finally coming home. What will happen with the two back in town together? 

2.Love Again

After Diana left him he though for sure he would never love again. Then the summer after the Hargrove's moved to town here comes Neil’s eldest daughter. 22-year-old Y/N moves to Hawkins Indiana after college. She pulled up one day to pick Max up from  El’s. The moment Jim swung the door open his breath left his chest. What happens when he hires her as Eleven’s tutor and Jim finds himself falling in love with the young woman. Will Y/N fill the same way? Is this Jim Hopper’s chance to love again or will he get his heart broken again?

MY girl

Nikki and her new girlfriend make it official

1.Two Broken Souls

Y/N is heavier than her friends and suffers from it. They are constantly putting her down. Her parents are constantly fighting at home. Jughead Jones is the loner boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Both are broken and hurting. Will They find Solace in each other or will they both suffer in silence.

2. Death … and new chances

Y/N Andrews's best friend dies and she is opened to a new possibility for her son

1. Together: 

Alex Standall Smut (4)

2. Our kids …..

Y/N Jensen is ready to co-parent with her one night stand 

3. octavia blake x sister reader smut

4. Rebekah mikaelson x sister reader smut

[ao3feed-tywin]

Gendry's Son | Male Reader X Harem

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/cgpi4zK

by Hollunk

After a 30 year reign, Y/n Baratheon has fallen on the field of battle. Facing the final Blackfyre Rebellion. Taking the final Blackfyre down with him. But he refuses to give in to death, and is reborn in the body of the supposed second son of Robert Baratheon, Orys Baratheon.

Words: 3623, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English

Fandoms: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage

Categories: F/M

Characters: Sansa Stark, Arianne Martell, Elia Sand, Daenerys Targaryen, Margaery Tyrell, Myrcella Baratheon, Original Female Character(s), Reader, Ashara Dayne, Jeyne Westerling Stark, Cersei Lannister, Robert Baratheon, Joffrey Baratheon, Tommen Baratheon, Ned Stark, Tywin Lannister, Catelyn Tully Stark, Brandon Stark, Bran Stark, Robb Stark, Jon Snow, Gendry (A Song of Ice and Fire), Arya Stark, Benjen Stark, Jon Arryn, Varys (A Song of Ice and Fire), Petyr Baelish, Tyrion Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Olenna Tyrell, Bronn (A Song of Ice and Fire), Sandor Clegane, Brienne of Tarth, Thoros of Myr (A Song of Ice and Fire)

Relationships: Sansa Stark/Original Male Character(s), Arianne Martell/Original Male Character(s), Elia Sand/Original Male Character(s), Daenerys Targaryen/Original Male Character(s), Margaery Tyrell/Original Male Character(s), Myrcella Baratheon/Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Ashara Dayne/Original Male Character(s), Jeyne Westerling/Original Male Character(s), Catelyn Tully Stark/Original Male Character(s), Cersei Lannister/Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags: Aunt/Nephew Incest, Sibling Incest, Shameless Smut, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Man, Westeros (A Song of Ice and Fire), Essos (A Song of Ice and Fire), Greyjoy Rebellion | Balon Greyjoy's Rebellion Against the Iron Throne, Parent/Child Incest

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/cgpi4zK

[blumenflowergelb]

Even after death our paths cross

Jaime Lannister x male!reader

• They spent the last day together drinking and talking. The cold never truly left, the sight of the sun was only in their dreams. The endless cold has been going on for weeks, the numbers and hopess of those who made it dwindled. The walk from Winterfell until the Gods Eye was hard and deadly. Most died, the children first than the women and lastly the men. The weak didn’t come, they were left behind in Winterfell with the last soldiers of the North so they could be burned upon death.

• Three days ago a scout reporter the wights coming down the neck, Moat Cailin has fallen and the survivors were caught up by the wights and the White Walkers. Yn could barely think about what happened to Winterfell and their occupants, the men and women and his nephew, Jon. Arya and Sansa came with Yn but left for the south, Bran and Rickon were behind the Wall and Yn was in the middle of the Gods Eye with the weirwoods and Jaime Lannister’s company. Their were some soldiers but most have left already to the South. The men and women who have stayed were either dying or could fight and decided to stay as the last defence. Because they were the last defence. If they failed Westeros, even the Free Cities could end.

• First the night came. It was always dark but dark like before nightfall and not this dark. They couldn’t even see Harrenhal, only the darkness. Then the cold came, the kind of cold which leaves you tired and you don’t even notice that you have fallen into an endless sleep. With the cold came the wind, and with it came the White Walkers and their servants. First they could hear feets walking on ice and the sounds of bones scrounging against each other. Than they saw the first wight and everything went downhill. The alcohol they consumed almost disappeared entirely and the last warmth fleed their bodies.

• The night was long and the hard. More died than they killed, some fled, but they hold out. The Children helped them with the Green Men on their sides, even Daenerys and Jon showed up. With them came hope again and they felt that maybe they would win. The slaughter was bloody and brutal, too much has been lost but when the King was killed the night lifted. The wights dropped dead and the remains of the White Walkers scattered around.

• Yn felt so weak, without Jaime and his family. He was sure that Jon went against a snow bear but not long after that Yn lost him and never seen him again. Jaime was dead, pulled apart by some dead crows, which made Yn hearth heavy as lead. He truly loved the man. Not the man he was before Lady Stonehearth but the man he became. Their love was a secret, a secret that Yn could never tell anybody.While Jaime has gotten his redemption it didn’t erase what he had done over the years. But Yn still loved him and felt like he could cry but he had no energy for tears. He went in and out of his dreams, sitting against a weirwood tree, and opened his eyes for the last time to see the new sun coming up.

• Then he opened his eyes again to see his old room in Winterfell. For a second he didn’t dare to move or even just exhale to loudly, he tried to listen to the soft voices around him. Feet scattering, the sound of swords, children laughing, a few wolves howling and somebody shouting ‚Uncle‘ at the top of his lungs. Then his door opened with a loud swish and Yn snapped out of his daydreaming. Rickon, baby Rickon with his small hands and feets and chubby face, run inside with Catelyn behind him shouting. Yn barely had any time to sit up, for Rickon jumped on him still shouting his name. Yn kissed his little face and looked up to the red faced Catelyn. She tried to apologize but Yn just shook his head and stood up with Rickon in his hands. After promising Catelyn that he will look after Rickon, Yn played with him while trying to get a hold of his situation. He was sure that he had died. The last years were definitely real, he couldn’t have dreamed about something like this. Besides he never took anything but alcohol to himself. Still the whole thing was unexplainable. He wasn’t sure what was going on. Rickons and his session was interrupted by a knock from Sansa. It was time for lunch so they went down and when Yn stepped in the room he couldn’t help but almost kneel over. Seeing his whole family well and alive was his biggest wish, a wish which got fulfilled. But it didn’t help his emotions. He wished to cry one second and laugh in the next.

• Yn tried to control himself and sat down. He barely ate, he got a side eye from Ned, and tried to talk as less as he could. Just listening made him happy and melancholic, his wish was fulfilled but he too has lost something along the way. After they were done and everybody went to their way, Ned has kindly left Yn alone, Yn wasn’t enterly sure what to do so he went to the library. He was reading about Daeron the First when he truly realised what had happened. The revelation left him shocked, his breath was labored and he felt cold and hot waves crashing through his body. He missed Jaime, he missed everything but at the same time not. He felt lonely because their was no other person who saw and lived through the wars and the coldness. This feeling left him breathless, the panic tightening his chest. His long forgotten , or just hidden?, memories resurfaced, from the day he left Storms End with an angered Young Griff to the past when he was playing with his brothers and sister in the deep cold snow, until red, blue and black spots begann to appear before his eyes. He felt somebody touching him and shaking him but it was his body that felt it, not him. And then he passed out.

• By the time he awoke it was dark. He was in his room and maester Luwin was busying around with Ned at his side. After they saw him wake they almost jumped to him and Luwin begann asking questions. Yn answered them but Luwin expressed his worry to Ned, talking as if Yn wasn’t here. They decided that Yn had to rest in bed for a fortnight and that he was to be daily examined by the maester. Luwin left, and Ned sat down. Neither of them talked for a long time until Ned said that he thought the worst. Yn was found in the library by Arya who has called for help the moment she saw her uncle looking like he was actively dying. When Ned asked Yn what had happened he couldn’t answer him. Yn only told him that he shouldn’t worry since he was too young to die. Ned shook his head and left the room.

• As he was alone Yn had time to process what was going on. He was found by Arya, the small little girl must have been affraid thought Yn, and later brought to his room. Maester Luwin suspected that he had wronged his hearth since his breath was erratic and his nose bleeded too much. He didn’t die but he was ordered on bedrest. But still this didn’t explain why he was here. Yn was sure that he died, seeing the First light of Dawn but than he woke up at Winterfell in his younger body. Yn tried to think about the how but the only sound idea he had were the Old Gods. He died by a weirwood on the Gods Eye so they must have seen him fit to travel back in time. Yn hoped that he wasn’t alone. Seeing his lost or dead family was a dream come true but that didn’t change the fact that he has lost people too. The people he had known and even lived with in the future didn’t even know him. Jaime didn’t know him. This relevation brought a bitter taste in Yn mouth. He didn’t wish to think about the man so he rolled to his side and tried closing his eyes. But dreams didn’t come. The whole fiasko bothered him and while turning around trying to sleep he accidentally hit his soulmark.

• He had his soulmark since birth, a rare thing since most people didn’t even have one, especially not since birth. He remembered his parents worrying about the age of his soulmate, affraid that his mate was old. Yn‘s father wished for Yn to marry a good southern noble woman with wide hips, but ironically his mate wasn’t a woman. Still his other wishes were fulfilled, maybe without the wide hips part. The fact was that as a child Yn always know that he would not marry a woman. He never said that to anybody too affraid of what could have happened but after Roberts Rebellion there was no need for it. His family was dead only Ned and Benjen survived. Of course there was Catelyn and the children but Yn always imagined his future with Brandon and Lyanna. After Ned came home and Benjen left, Yn decided that it was time for him to search for his mate. Thinking back this was more of an excuse to leave his life behind, but Yn was happy with his decision. He saw the side of the world which has been rarely seen by anybody. He experienced different people and their lifes, their foods and their different views. There is where Yn first realised why he never wanted women. He never found his soulmate but he found harmony. After a few years of sailing around he came back to Winterfell, happy to see Ned and his ever expanding family. He went on adventures but never as long as before, he always found his way back to Winterfell.

• When the War of Five Kings broke out he was on the way to Asshai and didn’t realise that his family has died only leaving Jon at the Nights Watch and Sansa at the clutched of the Lannisters. By the time he came back Sansa has already disappeared so Yn went on an adventure with Brienne of Tarth and her squire, who was not hers but Tyrion’s, and later on with Jaime too. They realised that they were soulmates by accident. Their were lingering touches but Yn thought that Jaime only wanted closure. He wasn’t right and when Jaime kissed him Yn‘s world changed. His soulmark burned and the love he felt for Jaime took his breath away. He wished and only wished to be by Jaimies side. They spent the nights together, always close but never truly touching. Yn tought that he had found his long awaited love but of course live wasn’t that nice. After the confrontation with Lady Stonehearth Yn left both Jaime and Brienne. He couldn’t find it in himself to see Jaime again. He still loved him, fierce as ever, but what he has done to his family was inexcusable. He couldn’t forgive him.

• They didn’t see each other until the Long Night has fallen. The people of the north left as quickly as possible only the fighter of the noble houses stayed. Some from the south came to help, including Jaime. The day before they left Winterfell they talked. It was hearth wrenching but needed. After discussing what had to be discussed they spent the night together. It wasn’t planed, Yn wholeheartedly thought that he and Jaime were not meant to be regardless their soulmark but Yn couldn’t bring himself to not do it. It was sweet and loving, a feeling which Jaime never associated with sex. They learned it together and enjoyed each other.

• But now Yn was alone without his soulmate. It was very bitter, the only thing Yn was happy about was that he at least know who his mate was. But just thinking about the way Ned or even Tywin Lannister would react to Jaime and Yn made him shiver. He couldn’t bare to think about Cersei, to affraid of a slighted narcissistic woman.

• The days have came and went until it was time for the Royal Familie‘s arrival. When Yn heard that they were coming, albeit a little late since their was a rumored accident on the way, he realised how stupid he was. He had the chance to save his family. He planed what he could do and started with Sansa and Jon. Yn know that Jon wanted to join the Nights Watch and he tried to talk him out of it at first but Jon didn’t take it well. Yn understood him, but he still tried to positively influence him. Sansa wasn’t an entire succes either since she lived for her stories. The only good thing he has done was mending Sansa‘s and Arya‘s relationship. Yn told them stories he had learned on his voyage about lovers and betrayal, trying to influence Sansa about critical thinking, and Arya has found this stories so intriguing that she listened to them too. The girls bonded through the stories and, while not entirely, they had a good relationship.

• The royal family came the same way they did the last time. They were a lot of them, the King was still fat, Joffrey still looked like a bitch but Jaime wasn’t the same. He looked the same at first glance but perhaps because Yn knew him like no other he noticed the difference instantly. Jaime was a little pale, his eyes weren’t that arrogant and he stood away from Cersei. The second he rode inside Winterfell their eyes locked and Jaime only looked away when he had to get off the horse. Seeing that Jaime clearly stayed away from Cersei left Yn feeling pleasant. Usually he wasn’t a jealous person but the bond the twins had shared, very disgusting in Yn opinion, made jealousy course through him. Both of them played with death throughout the years, and they even had children together. Yn couldn’t deny that Jaime did love Cersei even if it was a misplaced love.

• The King greeted the Starks the same as last time and went down to the crypts with Ned. Everybody dispersed after that, however Jaime didn’t go with Cersei. To escape the servants and their judgement, Yn signaled to Jaime and they went to the godswood. Yn was sure that nobody was there and he was right. It was silent, even the birds chirping wasn’t as loud. Yn sat down at the little creek and waited until Jaime came. Jaime stepped closer and after looking around he sat down. They didn’t talk for a few seconds but than Yn begann asking about their adventures in a subtle way. After Jaime answered every single question right, Yn kissed him. It was supposed to be an innocent kiss but Jaime deepened it and they only separated because of the lack of air. It was perfect. Yn felt his mark burn with satisfaction and love. Looking at Jaime he felt it too and Yn never has wished more to be just alone with Jaime. After dying and living in his past life with nobody at his side, Jaime felt like water on a hot sunny day. Yn needed him now more than ever before. They sat there for more time just holding each others hand until Jaime had to go to see the King. They separated with the promise of spending the night together.

• After a very interesting welcome feast for the royal family, in which Yn could experience how much Robert loved women and how much Cersei hated this love, Yn sneaked back in his room. He bathed while listening to the castle slowly settling. The sounds of the feast died out and only the occasional howls of the wolfs could be heard. Until Jaime knocked on the door and nothing mattered for Yn anymore. Jaime stepped in the room, smiling at Yn. They exchanged a few flirty remarks, Jaime sounded like usual, but then the two settled down to discuss what had happened. Yn got to know that yes Jaime did indeed got ripped apart by wights and that he came back weeks before Yn did. He had fallen ill shortly after that and Pycelle, Jaime hated him, had almost given up on him. Even Lord Tywin came to the capital after hearing his son, and heir, supposedly sickness. Jaime got better and than the date to leave for Winterfell has arrived. Jon still died, he couldn’t stop the Tully bitch Jaime said, so the journey for Neds hand has arrived. When Yn asked Jaime about Cersei he had only replied with bitterness. What Yn could puzzle together was that Cersei noticed Jaime‘s coldness and arrived at the conclusion that her handmaids have seduced him. The women were expelled but Jaime didn’t return to her so Cersei made up more stupid theories. After a while Cersei must have noticed that Jaime hasn’t changed so she became more aggressive and cold to Jaime. But he didn’t care and Cersei stayed as the spurned lover.

• After a while of talking they became silent. It was a lot to progress so they decided to continue tomorrow. But before they went to sleep Jaime shyly asked Yn if he would want to marry him. Yn just laughed and after remarking that Jaime was silly he said yes. The confirmation made Jaime‘s face light up with joy and they kissed. It almost progressed to something more but after hearing a door being closed to loudly they just went to sleep, affraid of anybody catching them.

• Yn woke up and said a very personal goodbye to Jaime, then went to play with Rickon and Bran. He felt a slight suspicion after seeing how bright Jaime‘s face was but quickly forgot it after seeing his family. Looking back he should have at least asked Jaime if he was alright but by the time they met it was already too late.

• Unknowingly to Yn, Jaime didn’t just go to the King to oversee his duties. After confirming that the King has drank and fucked last night until the morning he felt that it was the perfect time to do what he had to do. He knocked on the door and received no answer so he went inside and woke the King and his yesterdays choice up. The girl quickly ran out and the King awoke with a great rumble. Robert shouted profanities at Jaime but he just simply smiled back at him and said: „ I am retiring. Your grace.“

• Silence followed the statement. Robert stared at Jaime for a second and laid back on his bed muttering that he was still asleep. Jaime simply replied with a no and the King sprung up and begann shouting so loud that Barristan Selmy barged in the room. Seeing that the King was standing naked in the room while shouting at Jaime, he turned to the man in question and paled at seeing Jaime smile at him. The smile was strange to him, Selmy never saw him smile with so much joy. He tried to clear the situation up but did not succeed. Some servants stood behind the open door, glancing at them some even giggled. This ongoing problem wasn’t solved until Ned stepped in. He looked around the room silently, but judgingly. Seeing Ned Robert tried to hold his anger in but his red face was a tell tale sign of his feelings. Jaime and Selmy were standing silently before the King, although Barristan was before Jaime. Before Ned could ask what had happened the King huffed and looked for his breeches. He tried to kick everybody but Ned out but Jaime went up to Ned and asked for his brothers hand in marriage. Only a gasp was heard from outside before Ned jumped on Jaime.

• Yn was playing something, he still didn’t understand what the game was, with the boys when they were interrupted by an erratic Sansa. She asked Yn to go to Ned‘s solar, so he went. When he stepped inside the solar he was greeted with a furious Ned, an even angrier Robert, a stone face Barristan Selmy and a cheeky Jaime with a red mark on his face. Yn was surprised to see the hand mark on Jaime‘s face, sure that it was not there the last time they saw each other. Regardless the hit Jaime seemed pretty happy. Well he was the only one in the room who had a high spirit, Yn couldn’t decide who was the angriest. He opened his mouth but before he could say anything Ned went to him and asked him if it was true. Seeing Yn confused face Ser Selmy explained what had happened in the last hour, from Jaime wanting to retire to Ned and Jaime fighting. By the end of the story everybody was looking at him, but Yn only sent a deathly stare at Jaime. When Ned asked again he nodded and told him that Jaime and he were soulmates. Ned paled, the King paled, even Baristan looked strange. Only Jaime looked like a child who got those rare candies from the Summer Isles. Jaime quickly stood up and went to the door, not before saying that he will discuss the wedding details with Lady Catelyn. At his words Yn felt his knees get weak but he ran after Jaime who almost disappeared in the corridor.

• They were gettin married. While the law and the Seven didn’t permit men marrying each other, the law of soulmates did allow soulmates of any kind to share a bed and life. Usually same sex soulmates were seen as unnatural and were recorded in history as best of best friends who were very very close but as friends and not as spouses. Only society saw same sex marriage as an issue, and there was rarely anybody of high society who went against these unsaid laws. But Jaime and Yn. They got married under the hearthtree of Winterfell, where hundreds of Starks have married before, with the happy Stark family on Yn side and the happy Tyrion on Jaime‘s. Cersei didn’t bother showing up and wouldn’t have allowed her children, but Robert wanted their attendances. The sudden wedding, and of the same sex, meant that only house Baratheon and Lannister attended from the south and some lords of the North. Yn was sure that Jaime only wanted to be quick about the wedding so that his father couldn’t say anything, since the ravens they sent out were still definitely on their way to the South.

• The ceremony itself was small but beautiful. The lords who attended behaved and were happy to eat and drink, the Royal Family itself wasn’t that happy. Robert was angry and bitter about Jaime leaving the Kings Guard but since the law of soulmates was even above the King he couldn’t do anything. Tyrion was happy but clearly confused what his brother was doing by a northerner side and Cersei was fuming. Yn often jokes that he will be poisoned but maybe there were some truths. The children of Cersei didn’t understand what was going on but the two youngest seemed content. Joffrey only attended because of Robert but whenever he looked up from his food his eyes were full of venom. Jaime and Yn enjoyed the wedding and were happy to spend their life together, they could forget about the future for one night.

• After a week the court has decided to venture back to Kings Landing, this time with Bran, Jon and Yn on their side. Jaime‘s plan has worked and he had caught Bran from falling down the Tower, and Bran has sworn to never ever go alone climbing after seeing his mother cry her hearth out. Yn wasn’t sure how long his promise would last but Jaime has taken him as an unofficial squire, alongside Jon who was very happy to bask in Jaime‘s presence. They were working with Jaime from morning till nightfall, never having free time although neither complained. Yn spent his time with the girls. Their bond got better but not perfect so Yn tried to mend it. Both Yn and Jaime felt ready for their future in Kings Landing, happy that they would be together through the hardships, like facing the whole court with all their lords. But they still had a lot to plan!

[twilighcreed]

“Imagine… Cersei drunkenly confessing her desire for you when she spots you with another woman.”

[livingdreams97]

Daenerys Targaryen -- "The rightful heir." (part 1)

Daenerys Targaryen x Male reader/oc

Summary: Tiryon Lannister asks his queen for a favor: to help his missing nephew in a questionable way and just as his sister; Cercei proclaims the iron throne. The favor is to save his nephew and create a union between the heir of the House Baratheon and the mother of dragons.

Words: 3.835

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Masterlist

NOTE: If you see any spelling mistake im sorry, english is not my first lenguage and i try to do it the best possible.

POV Narrator

House Baratheon of Storm's End is a noble house of the Stormlands. With the emblem of a sable-crowned deer, on a field of gold and the motto “Ours is the Fury” .

House Baratheon gained renown when Robert Baratheon, head of House Baratheon and lord of Storm's End, led a rebellion against the Targaryen Dynasty and emerged victorious.

King Robert married Cercei Lannister, with whom he later had four children and a bastard son out of wedlock. All the king's children were completely different from him in appearance, they were blond, blue-eyed and had features identical to their mother's. All but one; the oldest.

Y/n Baratheon has always been completely different from the rest of his siblings, from his physique, to his personality and to the treatment he received from both parents. He had brown hair like all Baratheons, his eyes were green and brown.

In fact, from the day of his birth, they discovered a disease in his eyes, a disease that only made him look more identical to his Baratheon blood. The prince was born with Heterochromia, thus having the right eye of a leafy green color like the forest and the left of the color brown characteristic of his surname.

His physique at a young age was identical to that of his father, when he was his age and had a healthy physique. He had a personality very similar to his father, playful but serious when he should be, he knew how to behave when he was told, he liked to enjoy the little things and he has a heart that is too big.

King Robert saw in Y/n the perfect son, he saw himself reflected in his little fawn and from the day of his birth; It became his most precious possession. Especially after the rest of his children were born and none had a single faction similar to his.

And on his deathbed, the only one King Robert wanted to see and the only person he wanted to say goodbye to was his first son. The son who should have reigned after his father's death, but who, due to guilt and insecurity, did not accept the crown. An act that would bring consequences and great regret on the part of the young deer.

While Y/n was his father's sweetheart and his clear favorite child, his mother was the complete opposite and she never missed an opportunity to show her contempt for her first child behind closed doors.

When Y/n was born, his mother was in love with him and his eyes. Cercei spent hours and hours looking into the different but mesmerizing eyes of her first cub. But a year later, after the birth of her second son Joffrey, Y/n faded into the background and was never her mother's priority never again.

When Cercei saw Joffrey's blue eyes and blond hair, she knew what that combination meant. In Joffrey she saw herself and her brother Jaime reflected in the child. As her children grew and two more were added to the family, the clearer was Cercei's contempt for her first heir.

Y/n didn't look like a Lannister, it wasn't one of her cubs but a deer and she didn't want him. Especially when Joffrey began to adopt a personality very similar to his mother's and became everything his mother wanted him to be.

The day Joffrey died in his mother's arms, everything around her ceased to have so much importance and a part of her died with her son that day. Y/n tried to take the throne, but his mother forbade him and made sure he felt the guilt of his father's death, to prevent his coronation. And he got it.

Then it was Myrcella, the sweet and innocent only daughter of the lioness. A twisted death and in the form of a cruel revenge. Ellaria Sand poisoned Cercey's only daughter, through a kiss and an irreversible effect poison without the antidote.

Tommen was the next to reach the throne, but it did not work out very well when the Red Sparrow appeared and severely punished his mother for her sins. Cercei herself carried her youngest son into the arms of death, when she destroyed the Sept of Baelor and with it the beloved of her last two living children.

And that leaves us with now, where a Cercei Lannister is crowned queen after the explosion of the Sept of Baelor and a Y/n Baratheon is locked in the dungeon to prevent his coronation.

Daenerys POV

Tomorrow we leave Meereen for Dragonstone, my home and the home of my family. Home of the Targaryens, where dragons soared through the skies and my family was alive. Oh at least until King Robert Baratheon started the rebellion and usurped what is rightfully mine.

Tyrion: Your Majesty, can I talk about something with you? - asks knocking on the door of my chambers and sticking his head out.

Daenerys: I didn't think there was anything left to say after our talk a couple of hours ago.- I comment confused, stopping helping Missandei to pick up my clothes and alluding to our conversation about leaving Daario in Meereen ruling on my behalf.

Tyrion: And there wasn't.- He assures me entering my chambers and walking towards the wine table.

Daenerys: So what do you want to talk about? - I ask confused, walking towards where she is and sitting in one of the chairs.

Tyrion: Five minutes ago a letter arrived from King's Landing.- he announces, pouring himself a glass of wine. -A letter reporting the death of Tommen Baratheon, the coronation of my sister Cercei and the alleged disappearance of my last living nephew.- He informs me, sipping his wine.

Daenerys: I'm sorry for the death of your nephew Tyrion.- I assure him with a small sad smile. -The coronation of Cercei was something that we both saw coming, what I don't understand is why mention your other nephew.- I comment confused.

I have known Tyrion for a year and he has hardly ever talked about his family. The times he has done it has been to make a negative comment against his sister and father. His nephews are something he rarely talks about and when he does he never mentions them much.

Tyrion: I am afraid of the well-being of my nephew, my queen.- He assures me with some concern. -He is the only one who can take my sister's crown and his disappearance could not have happened on a better occasion for Cercei.- he tells me. -I fear for the life of my nephew, he has never been very loved by his mother and as much as he is her last living son, my sister does not have much esteem for his life.- he explains to me and I avoid opening my eyes surprised by what that my hand is insinuating.

Daenerys: But it's her son, I don't think that your sister, no matter how bad she is, inflicts pain and less death on her own blood.- I deny scared by the idea of it.

Tyrion: And believe me I wish that was the case.- Agrees with me. -But I know my sister, I know her ambitions and what she is capable of doing to get what she wants.- he assures me and I see the slight panic in her eyes.

Daenerys: You fear that your nephew is dead or is going to die so that Cercei keeps the crown.- I say a little unsure, understanding what he means and receiving a nod. -And what can I do? - I ask interested and wanting to help.

Tyrion: Just take him in.- He answers me simply and I look at him confused.

Daenerys: Take him in? What do you mean by that?- I ask in confusion.

Tyrion: The letter has reached Varys from one of his contacts, in the letter they report on the disappearance of my nephew and the extra presence of guards in the castle dungeons.- he tells me calmly.

Daenerys: But I still don't understand what my role is in this.- I comment still confused with the situation.

Tyrion: Varys has contacts in the city, contacts that can free my nephew and put him on the first ship to Dragonstone or a nearby port.- He explains to me and I see where he is going.

Daenerys: And you want me to take in one of the sons of a traitor, a usurper and the same person who kicked my family out of his home.- I assure myself, getting up from the chair furious.

Tyrion: I know it's a lot to ask my queen, but as the saying goes for you; it also does it for my nephew.- He comments, leaving the glass on the table. -You are not your father and you cannot be blamed for what he did in the past, therefore; my nephew should not be judged for the acts of his father as you have not been for those of your father.- It reminds me of the phrase that I myself have repeated several times.

Daenerys: I know you're right about that, but I don't think I can trust the son of my enemy.- I deny going out to the terrace of my rooms.

Tyrion: Please my queen.- he asks me leaving behind me. -I'm not asking you to trust him, but to trust me and give my nephew an option.-  he says pleadingly.

Daenerys: I don't think it's the best time Tyrion, we're just a little bit away from getting my throne and proclaiming my position as queen.- I remind him seriously.

Tyrion: That's why my nephew can help you proclaim the throne.- he says quickly.

Daenerys: How can your nephew help me? - I ask without understanding.

Tyrion: Y/n Baratheon is the only legitimate son of King Robert, he is the true heir to the throne and believe it or not, he is very loved by the people in King´s Landing.- he answers me quickly.

Daenerys: I don't know Tyrion, I'm not sure.- I say a little worried. -Because if he is the heir, he has never before risen to the throne and has allowed his brothers to be kings?- I ask curiously.

Tyrion: The day his father was attacked by a wild boar, he was hunting with Robert and blamed himself for his death.- he tells me with a small grimace. -He refused to accept the crown because he felt guilty, at that time Y/n was 17 years old and seeing his father, the only person who really wanted him to die before his eyes destroyed him.- he explains to me and I can't help but feel sorry for him.

Daenerys: And then, because Tommen was crowned and not Y/n? - I ask interested.

Tyrion: I don't know, my queen, but I wouldn't doubt my sister's presence in her decision and in the coronation of Tommen instead of Y/n.- He answers me and I think for a few seconds.

Daenerys: Okay.- I nod letting out a sigh. - Tell Varys to get a ship to take him to Sharp point and you will go look for him on a ship to take him to Dragonstone.- I tell him seriously.

Tyrion: Thank you very much, Your Majesty.- He thanks me with a huge smile before running out of my chambers.

I stay silent for a few seconds, enjoying the views of meereen for a few last moments and going back inside my bedroom. I see Missandei putting away my clothes and I go back to help her pick up.

Missandei: It is very generous of you to help young Baratheon, Daenerys.- She assures me with a shy smile.

Daenerys: I don't know if it's generous or not, but I just hope it doesn't bring me problems.- I whisper with a sigh.

I hope that Tyrion does not betray me and his nephew tries to assassinate me on the orders of his made. I don't want to regret opening the doors to both of them and ending up having to kill them both for treason. I just hope this doesn't blow up in my face.

POV You

I don't know how long I've been locked up in the dungeon, I don't know if it's been just hours, days, weeks or months. All I want is to die. I don't want to remember, I don't want to think and above all; I don't want to feel

I have lost everything, I lost my father and the only father figure who loved me almost seven years ago. I lost my only sister, the most innocent and joyful person I've known a little over a year ago. I've lost the only brother who showed me affection and appreciation for nothing, practically the same time I've been locked up here.

But that's not the worst of it. Not only have I lost my last brother, but I have lost the woman I loved and who loved me forever. Besides that I lost them the same day.

I know that many would be surprised and would raise their voices in contempt if they knew the truth. If they only knew that while my beloved, Margaery Tyrell was publicly with my brother Tommen and privately with me.

It wasn't my brightest idea to fall in love with my brother Joffrey's fiancee, but I couldn't help it and I don't regret it either. I have never been as happy as with Margaery; like when we spent sleepless nights in my rooms, talking, reading books and making love for hours.

For her I was going to declare my right to the throne after Joffrey's death, so I could be with her and we could marry. But my mother reminded me that if I wasn't even able to protect and save my own father, how could I protect an entire kingdom.

I had to watch as the love of my life married my younger brother, while I watched from a corner and suffered in silence to see the person I loved marrying my own blood.

But that didn't mean anything within the four walls of my bedroom, Margaery kept coming every night and we showed how much we loved each other. Or at least we did, until my mother had the Sept of Baelor destroyed with Margaery and the Sparrow inside.

That was the last thing I saw, before my mother's guards entered my chambers and brought me to the dungeons. The green color of wildfire and how the Sept was exploding being my last memories of the outside.

I can't sleep, remembering that deep green and Margaery's face smiling between my sheets every time my eyes close. So to avoid remembering, I avoid sleeping and close my eyes for no less than two seconds.

I jump where I am sitting on the floor, when I hear the door close and see how it begins to open. I just mentally prepare myself for what's to come, knowing that the only three times that door has been opened it hasn't been to feed me; but rather so that my mother's soldiers beat me to know what my place is.

I swallow hard, when I see two soldiers enter the dungeon in a rush and clearly in a hurry.

XY: Get up.- one of them orders me and I can only look at them confused. -Get up.- he growls, approaching me and pulling my arm up.

XY2: We don't have much time, we only have twenty minutes until they realize the lack of soldiers at your door and that you've disappeared to get on the ship.- the second explains to me, imitating his partner, when he sees that I can't walk very well and helping me to walk.

Y/n: Where are we going? - I ask with a hoarse voice, for not having spoken in time and for the lack of water.

XY2: First you'll go to Sharp point and there they'll pick you up to go somewhere.- He answers me walking quickly and securing my arm around his shoulders.

Y/n: But who is going to come for me? - I ask completely confused and with a cloudy mind.

Probably due to the lack of food, water, light and lack of movement since I've been in the dungeon.

XY: We think that Varys, we owed him a favor and you must be important to him, because he asked us to get you out of here.- He answers me with a slight grunt.

They hurriedly walk through the underground corridors of the castle, carrying me on their shoulders and carrying me towards the small beach behind the castle. Once outside, I see that it is night and I can see a small boat on the shore of the beach.

They lift me onto the boat, quickly stripping off their uniforms and pushing the boat out into the water.

XY2: Now we'll get you on a bigger ship and you'll have to hide in a box until they tell you to leave.- He informs me and I nod seeing the castle where I've grown further and further away.

I don't know how much time has passed since they put me on the ship, they put me in a box with holes in the hold and they left me locked up here. What I can tell is that there is a big storm, by the way the ship moves and by the sound of thunder.

The only positive part of this is the bread and water that I have been given as soon as I have been put in the box. My stomach and throat greatly appreciate those two things.

Suddenly one of the walls of the box opens, causing me to fall on my back and jump out of the box suddenly. I widen my eyes in surprise, fearing that it was someone helping my mother and that I would give myself to her again.

But my eyes fill with tears, when my eyes connect with familiar blue ones and a smile full of affection. I throw myself at my uncle, hugging him with all my strength and ignoring the pain in my body as I do so.

Y/n: You're alive, mother said you were dead.- I whisper separating myself from the hug to see better. -You're older.- I comment and he laughs yes in response.

Tyrion: And you look horrible.- He says to me, pointing at me, and it's the first time I've seen my clothes.

What used to be a dark gray jacket of good linen, with a black shirt underneath and black pants; it is no longer what it was before the dungeon. Now I'm just wearing the shirt, pants and shoes.

The shirt is dirty and torn in some places, where the guards grabbed me or where they made a cut where you can still see the dried blood. While the pants are just dirty and slightly torn at the bottom.

Y/n: Where have you been? - I ask confused.

Tyrion: It's a long story and I'd rather tell you at another time.- He answers me seriously. -Now we have to get out of here and take you to Dragonstone right away.- he informs me and I try to get up, but my legs fail me and I end up falling to the ground on my knees.

Y/n: I can't.- I whisper, feeling the pain in my muscles.

Tyrion: Wait two seconds.- He says and leaves the cellar with quick steps.

Not much happens, until my uncle comes back with a soldier and he puts my arm around his shoulders. With the help of the soldier, the three of us walked out and, crossing a wooden bridge, got on the next boat.

Tyrion: Soon we will arrive at the castle, where you can take a bath and where you can clean those wounds.- Points to one of the cuts that can be seen thanks to the hole in the shirt.

Y/n: Thank you.- I whisper sitting on the chair and trying to keep my eyes open.

Tyrion: When was the last time you slept or ate? - He asks me, clearly worried.

Y/n: I don't know.- I answer honestly. -I haven't eaten or slept since the explosion in the Sept of Baelor.- I comment and I see how he opens his eyes completely surprised.

Tyrion: Y/n that was a week ago.- he whispers and I open my eyes in surprise. -I think the best thing would be to take you to one of the cabins so you can sleep a bit.-  he says, getting up from his chair.

Y/n: No.- I quickly refuse. -I don't need to sleep.- I assure him with open eyes.

Tyrion: Y/n it's not true, you do need to sleep and you would agree with me if you saw yourself in a mirror.- He points to my face and I look away.

Y/n: I'm fine.- I assure her in a whisper, swallowing hard and refusing to sleep.

Tyrion: I'm your uncle, I've known you since the day you were born and I know when you lie.- He points out, approaching me and sitting back in his chair. -What's wrong? Why don't you want to sleep? - He asks me worried.

Y/n: I can't.- I admit without wanting to look at him.

Tyrion: But why can't you? - He asks me, clearly interested and worried about my state.

Y/n: Because every time I close my eyes, the only thing I see is the vibrant green color of wildfire and her face.- I answer in barely a whisper, feeling my eyes water again and my throat close.

Tyrion: Whose face? - asks without understanding anything.

Y/n: Her face.- I answer without wanting to specify.

Tyrion: I don't understand Y/n, you have to be more specific and tell me the face of who you see.- he asks me and I bite my lip to avoid crying.

Y/n: Margaery.- I whisper almost without a voice, feeling a tear slide down my cheek and fall on my hand in my lap.

Tyrion: Oh nephew.- he whispers getting up from his chair and approaching me to place his hand on mine. - Everything will pass, love and losses hurt for a while, but then that pain disappears and just becomes a ghost of memory. - He assures me, leaving a squeeze on my hand and trying to comfort me.

We sit in silence for a few moments, with me crying for the first time since Tommen and Margaery died. One week. It's been a week and I don't know it. Did they have a decent funeral?

Y/n: Why are we going to Dragonstone? - I ask, breaking the silence and wanting to talk about something else.

Tyrion: Because the next queen of the seven kingdoms awaits us, your future ally and the woman who will change the world.- He answers vaguely, but I am very tired both emotionally and physically; how to ask for more

Do you guys think that the parts are too long? Or they have a good lenght?