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merakiaes · 6 years ago

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I Want To Make Babies With Her - Tormund Giantsbane

Pairing: Tormund Giantsbane x Snow!reader, Jon Snow x twin!reader, Sandor Clegane/Beric Dondarrion/Thoros x reader (platonic)

Requested: Yes

Prompts: None

Warnings/notes: Cursing, mentions of sex and violence, changes in the timeline. I haven’t seen the old episodes in a long time so I had to change the request up a bit, hope it’s okay anyways! Also, I just wanted to tell you that English is not my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes, and I also don’t edit them before I post them. I’m usually too tired and do it afterhand instead

Wordcount: 5569

Description: You’re Jon Snow’s twin sister and Tormund forms a strong attraction to you, and after a while, you feel yourself growing to like it.

The day you had reunited with your twin brother, you hadn’t seen him in years.

You had been with Robb during his reign in the North, fled the Red Wedding with your life barely intact, and unfortunately with the loss of you direwolf.

You were on your own for so long, before finally coming across the Brotherhood Without Banners, Beric and Thoros taking a liking to you almost instantly thanks to your unusually dirty mouth and sparky personality.

During your travels, you had eventually stumbled into the Hound, Arya and her friend Gendry.

With everything going down, you got separated with your sister and the other two once more, and hadn’t seen them since.

Until now.

Thoros, Beric and yourself had, for a second time, reunited with Sandor Clegane on your way to Castle Black.

You had, unlike your sister Arya, never had a problem with the burned man, having been the only one who had actually taken the time to speak with him during his stay in Winterfell back in the day.

Although he still had been very cold, back then. This time he was different.

You hadn’t seen him since that day in the cave when he had been accompanied by your sister and fought Beric in a duel of swords.

He told you about a woman named Brienne of Tarth beating him to a pulp, about your sister leaving him to rot in a ditch, and a man saving him from a cruel fate and taking him in to help around his community in exchange for food and a place to settle down during the nights.

Then he told you about them being killed.

And the four of you went on a little merry trip to find the culprits, Sandor growing to become just as fond and protective of you as Thoros and Beric.

You had arrived first at Castle Black, having separated with Beric, Thoros and Sandor a while back when being overrun by a band of bandits.

Knowing they could fend for themselves and therefor most lightly had gotten away with a few bruises at most, you hadn’t looked back. Instead steering way towards your twin, who you had heard was in charge of both the Brothers and wildlings now.

As you had come through the gate, Jon had been waiting for you, the guards having told him ahead of time that someone was approaching.

The second you got down from your horse, you had been pulled into an embrace, Jon refusing to let go for so long you finally had to slap him to let you breath.

It wasn’t a dramatic reunion, the two of you weren’t those kind of people, but it was a heartwarming one. After all, twins always shared a special kind of bond; a bond regular siblings could never even imagine.

But even though everyone was staring at the two of you as you greeted each other, you could clearly feel one pair of eyes burning harsher into your neck than the rest.

Turning around, you had been met with the biggest smile you had ever seen a man wear in your life, at the time also being the most disturbing one.

The man in question turned out to be Tormund Giantsbane, a great friend to Jon, and a wildling from beyond the Wall.

Tormund had been at loss for words the second he laid eyes on you.

The way you held yourself as you rode your horse, the way your thick lashes framed your brooding, glaring eyes, the way your black hair whipped about in the wind and your cheeks glowed pink from the cold, and most importantly, the amount of knives and daggers and weapons in general that seemed to be stuck to your body, just waiting to be used, made him feel some kind of way he could only describe as horny and in love.

And you hadn’t had a moment alone since.

Every time you managed to sneak of, he would find you, and when he wasn’t physically with you, he was watching you from afar with that unnerving smile.

When a brother of the Night’s Watch had managed to shoot an arrow into your arm, he had been at your side.

”Pain is temporary.” He had said, you responding with a quick ”Shut up or I’ll put you through temporary hell.”, through gritted teeth as Edd pulled out the arrow.

When you were eating, he was at your side, either staring at you in silence as you ate, or chatting your ears off.

”Do you ever shut up?”

”Yes. But not very often.”

When you were going around to help with the different chores and jobs, he was trailing after you.

”Why are you following me?”

”You’re the only one around here to seems to know what they’re doing.”

Even when you were sleeping alone in your room, he found a way to disturb you.

”I fixed you breakfast. I know it’s only fruit but it’s the only thing I can do without burning it.”

“It’s in the middle of the night. If you wake me up one more time I swear to the Gods I-”

Luckily, Edd had walked past just then that night, pulling Tormund and his apples out of the room, apologizing to you and slapping his wildling friend over the head repeatedly.

Wherever you went, whatever you were doing, whoever you were with, he was there, staring at you with that grin of his that just screamed“I don’t know how to flirt so I’m just going to stare at you until you marry me.”

Though you were trying to keep the stern look on your face throughout the days, you were having an incredibly difficult time keeping your lips and eyes from twitching whenever he was near.

Luckily, Jon seemed to sense your uneasiness, and although it pained him to see his friend sad, he had told Tormund to take a few steps back, take it a little slower.

Not exactly what you had asked him to say, your exact words being to tell that wildling fuck to stay out of your way before you ticked off and stabbed his or someone else’s eye out, but you guessed that it would have to do for the time being.

Edd had been seated between you and your brother as this conversation had taken place, and his eyes had widened to the size of plates in fright as those words had left your mouth. He had been more than surprised to hear such a mouth on a lady, but more than everything he was scared shitless that he would be the unlucky one to be in your way when the moment came that you lost your temper.

Fortunately, although not as much as you would have wanted, Jon’s words seemed to work to some extent, at least, Tormund backing off for a few days.

And luckily for you, the very same day he started being touchy feely again, your oh, so missed, companions came knocking on the door, figuratively speaking.

“Thank the Gods!” You yelled out as you spotted Thoros, Sandor and Beric climb off their horses, leaving Tormund behind as you rushed towards them, jumping over the railing and landing on the ground gracefully, although painfully.

You had been stuck with Tormund for the past hour and you were about ready to chuck yourself from the Wall, therefor wanting to get away from him as quickly as you could, not having the time to take the stairs.

The men, along with Jon, had all stared in shock as you launched yourself from the balcony like you were some trained assassin, something you couldn’t help but take pride in as it was most likely a lucky shot and you would’ve fallen on your neck any other time.

“Thank the Gods!” You repeated, throwing yourself at the three, your arms going to wrap around their necks all at once.

Thoros and Beric laughed loudly as Sandor only grumbled. “Someone’s excited to see us.” Beric spoke, eye wrinkling in amusement.

“You would too if you hadn’t gotten to be alone for longer than five minutes at a time for the past few weeks.” You almost cried as you desperately clinged to them. “Take me away from here, please. I can’t take it.”

They all laughed again, no one noticing Tormund’s fuming form at the top of the stairs, watching you get touched by three other men.

“I didn’t know you knew them.” Jon said as you finally composed yourself and got back to the ground.

“Little bird has kept us company on the road ever since the War of the Five Kings.” Thoros mused, giving you a fond glance, teasing smile on his face.

“And I’ve had several run ins with Sandor during that time.” You told your brother, who nodded slowly, glancing between the four of you, naturally going into protective brother mode even though he said nothing.

As you, Thoros, Beric and Sandor were led to Jon’s room by him and Edd, your heart skipped a beat with relief at the fact that you were for the first time in weeks able to walk without having an annoying red head wildling at your ass.

You thought, at least, as the man in question soon invited himself to the small meeting by barging in, insisting that he go on the trip beyond the wall with them.

The trip you weren’t invited to, it turned out, which caused you to glare at your brother for the remaining of the discussion.

Not even an hour later, Ser Davos returned with Gendry and Jorah Mormont in his company, which only made you even madder.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me alone while you let him go with you! I’m older than him!” You yelled at your brother, pointing to Gendry who widened his eyes.

“I’ll gladly stay here if she wants to take my place.” He spoke, looking between them.

“Yes!” “Yes!” “No!” The two of you yelled back at him at the same time, being joined with Tormund’s voice, as well.

This caused Thoros and Beric to look between you and the wildling, clearly holding back laughs, while Sandor only glared at him, not wanting the madman to corrupt you.

As if you were innocent to begin with.

“You’re staying here, and that’s final!” Jon ordered loudly, before lowering his voice, eyes saddening. “I only just found out you were alive. I’m not walking you into your real death when I just got you back.”

You looked at him, long and hard, before leaning back into your chair with a huff, crossing your arms and throwing your feet onto the table. “Fine. But I’m staying and listening, in case I need to come save your asses.”

“You won’t.” Jon told you sternly, already knowing what you were getting at. “But you can stay.”

You rolled your eyes, but stayed quiet, wanting him to believe you had given up.

But as they left you at Castle Black with Ser Davos and Edd, they soon realized that was not the case, as you an hour after their departure started saddling a horse, bag in hand.

“Lady (Y/N), I really think you should listen to your brother and stay here.” Davos insisted as he walked behind her to the stables.

“It’s my ass Jon will have served on a silver platter if you disobey his orders.” Edd agreed, hurrying after you as you carried the saddle to the horse.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t find out you knew of my plan.” You reassured, but they wouldn’t have it.

“The dangers beyond the Wall is not something a lady like yourself will do well in.” Ser Davos tried reasoning with you, only earning a roll of your eyes in return.

“And still, they took Gendry with them. I’m ready to bet he’s already complaining about the cold.” You told him, looking at him as you sat up in the saddle.

“(Y/N)-” Edd started, but before he had the chance to finish his sentence, you send them both a big smile.

“Bye!” You told them happily, before riding through the same gate your brother had only moments before.

The difference was they didn’t have horses, so it wouldn’t take long for you to catch up to them.

Wrapping your furs tighter around your body, you sent the horse off into the snow, already thinking of a snarky come back to use to the scolding that was sure to come.

“I don’t know how you survive up here.” Gendry complained as he walked between Thoros and Beric, causing the two to share and amused glance. “I’m freezing my balls off.”

“So we heard.” Beric mused, having listened to the boy’s whining since they had stepped out of Castle Black.

“What are you whinging about it?” Sandor came up to them, being tired of listening to Gendry repeat his oh so big problems.

“I’m not whinging.” Gendry defended, stopping to look at the Hound.

“Your lips are moving and you’re complaining about something. That’s whinging.” Sandor said.

Gendry opened his mouth to fire back, but Sandor went on, pulling Beric forward slightly. “This one’s been killed six times and you don’t hear him bitching about it.”

Suddenly, the sound of hooves hitting the icy ground filled their ears, causing the rest of the group at the front to stop in their tracks to look back.

“He did complain quite a lot the first time, actually.” You yelled out as you rode into sight, smirking at Jon as you saw his face fall into a pissed of expression.

Your twin dropped his bag on the ground, storming towards you. “I thought I told you to stay at Castle Black!”

“I thought you’d learned by now that I don’t usually listen to what people tell me.” You fired back, drawing the reins back as your horse shifted.

“Unbelievable.” Jon snapped, glaring eyes boring into your teasing ones.

However, before anyone could say anything else, Tormund came rushing to join your little group, Jorah walking at a normal pace. “You came back for me!” Tormund exclaimed, causing everyone to turn to look at him with weirded out expressions.

You gave him a forced smile. “If it makes you sleep better at night then sure.”

“I wasn’t done!” Jon took a step forward, causing you to turn to him.

“What? We’re the same age, actually I’m two minutes older, I have the right to make my own decisions.”

“It still doesn’t change the fact that you never listen to anyone but yourself!”

“Maybe I don’t listen to other people because other people never listen to me!” You yelled back finally, eyes burning with irritation.

“Calm down, sweetling.” Tormund suddenly said, the words causing you to turn to him with a glare as chilly as the very snow you stood on. You glared at him long and hard before turning to Gendry, deciding you were done with the others in that moment.

“I bet Davos you were complaining before I left, seems like I was right. I could hear your whinging from the gate. It’s a wonder something haven’t killed you yet.” You told him, snorting, although the irritation still evident in your eyes. .

Gendry opened his mouth, offended, all while Beric and Thoros laughed, and Sandor let out a gruff.

“I wasn’t whinging!” “Fucking told you.”

Gendry and Sandor said at the same time, Gendry in exclaim and Sandor in an unimpressed mutter. They looked at each other, Gendry narrowing his eyes and Sandor raising a tired eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes at the toxic masculinity, pulling your bag off your saddle and throwing it at Thoros before reaching your hand out for Gendry to take. “I’d rather lend you some of my body heat than continue to listen to your bitching, come on.”

Gendry glared at you, but nonetheless grabbed your hand and heaved himself into the saddle behind you.

“What do you mean?” Tormund took a step forward, eyes wide open.

You ignored him, turning to Jon. “We’ll go ahead and scout, we’ll be back.”

And with that, you were off, leaving Tormund to look after you, confusion and hurt written on his face. He looked between the remaining of the party. “What did she mean?”

“She meant she was going to take him to a cave and let him fuck her. What do you think?” Sandor spit out, aggravated, earning Jon’s attention.

“That’s my sister you’re talking about.” He glared.

Sandor raised his eyebrows. “You think she hasn’t rolled around the sheets before?”

Jon said nothing, Tormund continuing to comment. “I’d like to roll around her sheets.”

Jon only slapped his head, before continuing his walk, Jorah at his side, the fierce bear seeming to be the only one who didn’t have something to say about his sister.

“I don’t think you have a big chance of even coming near her sheets now, I’m afraid.” Thoros told Tormund as they fell behind.

The red head grew panicked, turning to look at the man with the top-knot. “Why not? What did I do?”

“You told her to calm down.” Sandor huffed.

Tormund looked at them, confused, to which Sandor continued, turning to look at him as he snapped. ”Telling a woman to calm down works about as well as baptizing a cat.”

Tormund’s eyes widened, only growing more confused at this. ”Why would you baptize a cat?”

”The point exactly.” Beric pitched on, chuckling quietly as Tormund went into full panic-mode, asking them on repeat if they thought you’d forgive him for the rest of their walk.

After Gendry and yourself had gone ahead, you had after a while gotten tired of sitting in the saddle and left him to do the scouting on his own while you walked to meet the rest of the group in the middle.

Of course, Sandor just had to make a comment asking if Gendry’s dick wasn’t big enough to please you, which sent the red head half-giant into another concerned question-time.

“Sees her one time and suddenly he’s in love with her.” Sandor scoffed to Thoros and Beric as they walked behind the rest of you, like they had for the whole walk.

They snickered. “She’s a looker, you can’t blame him.” Thoros nodded his head as he spoke, looking at you as you for the first time actually cracked a laugh at Tormund’s jokes, causing the wildling to light up like the sun.

“She might be hard to impress but I wouldn’t rule it out.” Beric agreed.

Sandor grumbled at the thought. Although he had no kind of sexual or romantic feelings for you, the wildling man annoyed him to no end, and you didn’t. If you got together, he’d have to deal with his chattering all days long, seeing as he was already stuck to your hip.

Hopefully you wouldn’t be so stupid as to fall for him.

But as you walked beside Tormund, you were actually starting to warm up to him.

This was the first time you had actually taken the time to listen to him, seeing as you had always ran away in Castle Black, but you now had nowhere to run.

And ever since he opened his mouth, he had piled up compliment upon compliment, something you weren’t used to as you were a bastard.

”You’re probably one of those beautiful women who don’t even know it.” He had started, all while looking at you with that stare of his.

At this you had still not quite gotten to like the idea of speaking to him, having responded rather shortly. ”No, I know.”

But then he kept going, and while you had up until this point been vexed to no end by this very thing, you were starting to admire him for not giving up despite your attitude.

”You smell good.” ”Your cheeks are pink as roses.” “Your hair is soft as silk.” “I want to kiss you for the rest of my life.”

Yes, the compliments had gotten rather intimate at the end, but luckily, although unluckily, you had met up with Gendry again just then, and you had went on to fetch one of the dead, losing Thoros and one of the dragon queen’s dragons in the process.

And you wouldn’t have been surprised if you managed to get yourself killed, either. Fighting thousands of dead fuckers was no dance on roses with Tormund trying to chat you up at the same time.

”I can’t fight them all on my own!” You yelled at Jon as he ran off in the other direction, sword raised and slashing left and right.

”You’re not alone, you have me!” Tormund suddenly came up beside you, grinning widely as per usual, not being concentrated in the slightest.

”Well, then we’ll for sure be dead before we’re done!” You yelled back out, annoyance lacing your voice and dripping with every word.

”Looks like we’re working together!” He grinned at you.

”Don’t get used to it.” You snapped as you just barely managed to save his ass from being chewed up.

And Tormund had never seen anything quite as beautiful as you when you broke a thick branch over the wight’s back, frozen in place as you threw your daggers of dragon glass around.

“Tormund!” You yelled at him as you noticed him staring, finally breaking him out of his trance to get his head back in the game.

As you had gone back to Castle Black, you had gone with Jon, Sandor and Daenerys to King’s Landing with the wight, and stuck with them while Tormund, Beric and Edd stayed in Castle Black.

A few days later, you heard about Daenerys’s dead dragon now being one of the Others, and having completely broken down the Wall.

Your thoughts had clouded with worry for Beric, Edd and even Tormund.

But soon enough, you returned to Winterfell, where you finally reunited with Arya, Bran and Sansa.

You had ridden side by side with Sandor as you entered the gates, looking ahead as the army spilled into your home.

As you were reuniting with your siblings, Tormund, Edd and Samwell had reunited with Jon.

After hugging and greeting his friend, Tormund had recognized Sandor, standing alone by his horse, and wasted no time in running upp to him and clapping him on the back.

“Old friend!” He greeted, looking over his shoulder.

“You again?!” Sandor exclaimed as he shook him off, anger filling his every bone.

“Where’s your friend?” The wildling asked, looking around wildly. “(Y/N), is he with you?”

“Of course she’s with me, that woman wouldn’t leave me alone if I killed her puppy.”

Tormund’s smile fell. “Do you think she’s in love with you?”

Sandor gave him a look. “No, she’s not fucking in love with me.”

The redhead smiled again. “Do you think she’s in love with me?”

“Why don’t you go ask her herself?” He snapped, pointing forward.

Tormund turned around, finding you laughing with your sisters. His mouth fell slightly agape as he watched you, black hair pulled back at the bangs, doublet tight against your chest.

“I want her to have my babies.” He said, gazing dreamily at you.

Sandor looked at him, disgusted.

“Think of them, great, big monsters. They’d conquer the world.” He went on, causing Sandor to raise his eyebrows.

“Have you seen her? Any shorter and she’d fade from existence.”

“Ah, yes.” Tormund realized. “They will get their size from me, but their fighting from her.” He said finally after a moment of thought.

“Finally some sense coming out of that mouth of yours.” Sandor muttered, shaking his head slightly, watching as the big redhead started walking towards you, catching you sisters’ attention.

“Oh Gods…” You cursed under your breath, closing your eyes briefly as you noticed Tormund approaching.

“(Y/N), you are looking as stunning as always.” The wildling said, his smile never faltering.

Your sisters giggled, giving you a look before walking off, much to your dismay.

“Thank you, Tormund.” You thanked, giving him a nod and a smile.

He smiled at you, as he always did, before looking down shyly for a second before looking back up. “I was wondering, now that I’m here in a castle, if you might want to teach me how to read.”

You had not expected those words to leave his lips, that much was sure. All you could do was raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “You want to learn how to read?”

Tormund nodded eagerly. “Yes, I want to read that book you always talk about. What was it, something about a lucky enemy?” He thought, eyes glazing over.

“Foes of fortune.” You smiled softly, helping him, surprised and admittedly a little touched he had remembered your favourite book, well, almost, anyways.

“Yes! That’s the one!” He exclaimed.

You snickered. “Alright. Meet me in the library an hour before the feast. We’ll start then.”

And with that you walked off, leaving Tormund to go brag about his process to your twin.

You spent the rest of the evening settling into your old chambers before it was time to meet Tormund in the library.

For the first time in years, you were wearing a dress, the violet silk coming to pool around your feet as you walked across the stone floors.

Your room was close to the library so it wasn’t a long walk, resulting in you getting there a bit early and allowing you to pick down the book from the shelf and get comfortable.

As Tormund seemed to be turning a bit late, you started reading the book to make the time go faster, and soon enough Tormund walked into the room with Arya behind him.

“Have fun.” The younger girl smirked at you, giving Tormund an nod before walking away.

After smiling to your sister, Tormund turned to look at you with a big smile. “Apologies for being late, I couldn’t find the library.”

You chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. Do you want to start?” You changed the pages back to the first page putting it down on the table in front of you as Tormund came to side in the chair beside yours.

As you got to work, you were surprised to say you were actually enjoying his company. For once in his life, the man was almost as quiet as a mouse aside from the words he spoke when he attempted to read from the book.

You were fascinated with the amount of concentration he was putting in the letters, and how much he seemed to want to learn to read for your sake.

Never in your life had someone done something like that for you before.

You had always been cast aside, your whole life. The Stark siblings hadn’t treated you any different from how they treated each other, but at the end of the day it had only been you and Jon as you grew up, and in the end, he had left you behind, as well.

Tormund had, although a little too forward for your liking, been nice to you from day one. And you had sneered at him, glared at him, snapped and scoffed at him. And yet here he was, stumbling over his letters and words as he tried to read your favourite book.

Something switched in you after your time in the library, and you found yourself staying in his company the whole night during the feast, something the people close to you seemed more than surprised about, while Tormund was absolutely ecstatic.

The compliments he had been throwing on you while beyond the Wall continued the second he got a drop of his weird drink into his body, and now he was even more forward, having taken it a step further to touch you.

He was holding your hand, leaning on your shoulder, and for a minute or two even falling head first on your legs.

”You’re comfy.” ”Your hand feels perfect in mine.” ”You’re my new pillow.”

Were only a few of the many things he told you that day, and you didn’t know if it was the wine, or the fact that you were slowly realizing you liked this new kind of attention, that made you flirt back.

As people were shouting and drinking around you, Tormund leaned in to your ear, tickling your skin with his beard.

”Can I tell you a secret?” He whispered, although it wasn’t the best of whispers.

”I wouldn’t recommend it, no.” You smiled teasingly, snickering slightly as his eyes dropped closed for a second.

He leaned in once more, looking at you before speaking. ”I want you to have my babies.”

You cringed, but couldn’t help but let out a laugh. ”Gods… I think it’s time for you to get some rest.” You said, beginning to stand up, taking the big man with you.

“Only if you come with me.” He grinned, looking at you with the very same stare that would have you shifting in your boots a few weeks back.

You rolled your eyes. “I will. But not in the way you think.” You told him, and being the respectful man he was, he didn’t press it further, only letting a sad look resembling a puppy’s fall onto his face as you started to lead him off.

“Have fun!” Beric yelled at you with a laugh as you walked past, Tormund’s arm over your shoulder.

“No, no fun!” Sandor protested, going to stand up, however getting pushed back down by his one-eyed friend before he could get very far.

You laughed, shaking your head at them and not bothering to answer, knowing they would both keep believing the worst no matter what you told them.

As you walked out of the Hall, Tormund managed to snatch a carafe of wine on his way out, proceeding to spill some into his mouth.

“Give me that.” You laughed as he spilled most of the contents in his beard, grabbing the flagon and holding it to his mouth with a steadier hand, allowing him to clunk some down all while staring at you with loving eyes.

“Now you have some.” He told you as he finished, eyes never leaving your face as you took a few sips.

“Happy?” You asked him once done, only getting a big grin in return.

You shook your head at him as you drank and laughed all the way to his chambers.

He turned to you once entering with a shit-eating smirk, and you instantly lift you finger to shush him from talking, reading his mind.

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

Tormund nodded repeatedly. “If you want to take it slow, we’ll take it slow.”

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t bother arguing.

You watched as he pulled out two chairs by the small table in the corner of the room. “At least stay and finish this wine with me. I promise I won’t try anything.”

You narrowed you eyes slightly at him, finally nodding and moving to sit down once you realized he meant it.

But as it turns out, the wine was stronger than you thought, and despite everything you had told everyone else and yourself, you ended up sharing a long, exhausting night with a wildling that night.

But as you woke up alone in his bed the next morning, you found yourself remembering every single detail, and not regretting it one bit.

Tormund had been awake all night, gazing at you and watching over you as you slept peacefully beside him.

Never had he seen anyone as beautiful but at the same time lethal before, and it drove him absolutely mad.

But, although begrudgingly, he had been ordered by Jon the night before to show up for breakfast, meaning he had to leave you alone to bid to your twin’s wishes.

As he had gotten dressed in his grey and white furs, he had walked off to what he thought to be the right place.

In the meantime, Jon was on his way to Tormund’s room to take him, figuring he would get lost without the help. But what he found upon opening the door had not been the ginger wildling he had been expecting.

Instead he found you, lying facing down, furs ridden down to your waist, exposing your bare back.

Jon had never been so quick to shut a door before in his life, eyes widening as he rushed off to breakfast.

Tormund had found his way eventually, sitting himself down between Sandor and Beric and wasting no time in piling food onto his plate.

Jon had spotted his redheaded friend the second he entered the Hall, walking up to the table and sitting down opposite him, looking at him as he, too, filled up his plate slowly.

Tormund felt his gaze after a while and looked up, only to meet his eyes.

Before he could say anything, Jon cleared his throat, looking down at his food. “Is there a reason my sister is sleeping, naked, in your bed?”

As soon as the words left his lips, every conversation in the room died. The sound of people choking on their food and drinks and the sound of a cup slamming against the table, courtesy of Sandor Clegane, could be heard as everyone turned to look at him, shock written all over their faces.

Tormund looked between them all, and answered with a shrug like it was the most obvious and normal thing in the world, “I told you I wanted to make babies with her.”

Tagged: @edarene @anephemeralwoe

(Sorry if I forgot someone, I’m having a hard time keeping track of who wants to be tagged for all of my GoT imagines, and who wants to be tagged only in my Sandor series. If you haven’t already made it clear, please send a message so I don’t mess up hahah)

#game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #tormund giantsbane #tormund x reader #tormund imagine #tormund giantsbane x reader #tormund giantsbane imagine #sandor clegane #jon snow #beric dondarrion #arya stark #sansa stark

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capshugsandbuckskisses · 6 years ago

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Treachery (Part 2)

Title: Treachery (Part 2)

Couple: Theon greyjoy x reader x Robb Stark

Summary: Escaping from Theon you go off to find Robb where a plan is set to get revenge.

Warning: Spiteful Robb :P

A/N: This was on my other blog that i recently deleted and decided to put it here :) also its been years since I read over this so sorry for any grammer errors . part 1

Walking down to the cells the man started to mock you, telling you that you’d be lucky if you didn’t get killed. You didn’t really see how that was lucky considering the man that you loved for the past 8 years became a monster and tore down the walls that built up your reality.

Apparently while going down the stairs you weren’t going fast enough so he decided to toss you down. He came up to you and laughed a bit as he pulled you up by your hair and forced you against a wall as he allowed his hand run up and down your side. “You know what’s a shame?”

You looked him up and down finding a dagger at his side and gave a smile. “The fact the Starks taught me to fight” before he could respond you grabbed it and stabbed him in the heart with it. He fell to the floor with an empty surprise look on his face, “I would say sorry, alas I simply can’t bring myself to, not to a scum bag like yourself” Pulling out the dagger you allowed the blood to escape with the light in his eyes. Taking the belt at his side with the sword and that small amount of money he had you ran up the stairs, stopping every time there was a guard or the chance of being caught. Finally making it to the stables a pair of guards stood there talking till they see you, afraid and out of breath. Moving your waist out of sight you made a plan.

“Hurry, Prince Theon needs help in the courtyard. A rebellion is starting” they stood there confused and surprised. “What are you waiting for! He said he’ll have the head of all the guards who don’t show”. They shot into action and ran out of the stables leaving you with just enough time to saddle up and start out. Though as you were going out the side gate you ran into Osha.

“Y/n! Where are you going?” She asked and you came to a stop.

“I’m going off to find Robb, I can’t stay here or else Theon will throw me in the cells. Get bran and Rickon and get them out of here, just go somewhere safe and I’ll have someone come find you if I make it” She nodded and shooed you off, the last you’d see of her you were almost positive.

After that, you rode, for days that turned into weeks. You took a job here and there, keeping some food in your mouth, just enough to keep surviving. Every once in a while a nice family would put you up for the night.

Reaching the camp sight of the North you jumped off the horse about ready to fall into the mud and stay. Some men looked at you in confusion though the fact that your house had the Stark sigil made them aware you weren’t an enemy.

“Robb, I need Robb” One of the men pointed you in the general direction that he usually was in. Running that way you continued to ask till you were pointed to his tent. At first you were stopped by the people on the outside. “Robb! Robb STARK!” You screamed and the whole camp went quiet.

Seconds later Robb tossed open the flap and stopped when he seen you. “Y/n?!” He looked to the guard that stood as a barrier “Let her in” They moved aside and you ran into his chest about ready to cry. “It’s okay” He petted your head and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

You pulled apart and looked up to your longtime friend, “Theon”

“I know, come in” you walked in with him and seen a crew of men that most likely were talking strategy before you had interrupted. “Please leave, we’ll continue this later” With the quiet ‘yes your majesties’ they moved out leaving the two of you alone. “Tell me what you seen” he placed you down on a seat and brought you some water and bread.

“Theon came in with his army, taking over and plans to have 500 more sent over. He had Bran say that he follows Theon and says all the people follow him. He…” You started to cry, looking down you covered your face. “He betrayed you and the house. He killed Ser Rodrik.” You looked up to him “He chopped his head off… A man that helped raise him”

He sat next to you and pulled you closer to him. “He’s a treacherous whore breed from treacherous whore before him” He looked back to you and gave you a weak smile. “Did you see Bran and Rickon?”

“I seen Osha, told her to get them out and I’d ask for you to send men, she was bringing them to safety” He pulled your head to his lips and kissed you.

“Thank you, Thank you so much” You just nodded, he pulled away and looked down to you in confusion. “Y/n, you got away, how did you get away?”

“Theon kept asking me to join him and be by his side and that he loved me and did this for us. I told him he was a liar and I hated him so he had me to be sent down to the cells. I distracted the man, kil… killed him and got off”

He pulled you up and walked you over to the back of the tent where his bedroom was make, he placed you on the bed and knelt down next to you. You laid down and allowed his hand to rake across your face. “You’re safe now. I’ll keep you safe and we’ll take back over. We’ll get revenge for the betrayl that Theon brought to us”

You looked over to the bright blue eyed man at your side. “How” He just smiled at you.

Theon’s P.O.V

“My Lord, a crow has come for you” one of the guards held a not in his hand as he came closer to me.

Standing up he gave me the letter. “Who is it from?” He said nothing as I looked down to the stamp of white wax with a Direwolf on it. Looking you I shooed him off. “What are you waiting for, a god damn coin! Get out of here”

With the people out of the room and the door shut I sat back down knowing standing couldn’t be well for this letter. Opening it I read.

Theon,

You’re an unruly bastard. We will take back over my land and my castle. You will pay for your sins. Unfortunately it may take some time. So me and Y/n have decided to start the punishment now.

We would like to formally invite you to celebrate our wedding. Please, leave that castle you falsely call yours and come see the women you once loved be called Lady Stark and carry my child.

A part of me wants to say sorry for the fact I married the women you loved, but I just can’t bring myself to do that. Do you remember when we were young and Y/n just came to us, you said she’d be yours for all the nights, but I told you she’d be mine for eternity.

I got what I want, and you lost. Just like you will every time.

King of the North and His Lady,

Robb and Y/n Star

#capshugsandbuckskisses #GOT #game of thrones #robb stark x reader #theon greyjoy x reader #theon x reader #angst

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boschlingtumbles · 5 years ago

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Chapter 39

Ned woke up in his childhood bed feeling tranquil and happy. The last two weeks had been a hurricane of happy chaos, what with trying to find space in their apartment and their lives for a second child. The good news is that Jon was the calmest sweetest baby Ned had ever encountered. The bad news is that Robb was quickly teaching him all his bad habits. One of the Mormont girls was coming to babysit today, and Ned privately prayed for her sanity.

But what was any of that compared to having Catelyn and Robb back? Even the days felt brighter, somehow, without the constant fear nibbling at the edges of his sanity that he was going to lose everything he loved.

Catelyn had already left early that morning to meet up with the girls and get ready for the wedding. The guys hadn’t made much of a plan—all they had to do was throw on their suits and show up—but Ned still planned to get there early to get the ring back from Mace and make sure Robert didn’t need anything.

In the meantime, he was just as happy to catch up with his father, Benjen and Brandon, who was also staying with his family for the wedding. Naturally, the primary topic of conversation was Lyanna.

“I can’t believe she’s with Ashara,” Benjen shook his head over cereal that morning.

“Stop,” Ned rolled his eyes.

“Ashara Dayne,” Benjen repeated gleefully.

“Yes we get it,” Ned scowled, stabbing his spoon into the milk.

“YOUR Ashara!”

“For the love of the gods will you please stop?!” Ned glared.

“Oh, is it weird for you?” Brandon walked into the kitchen smirking. “Knowing that your younger sibling is fucking your ex?”

“Brandon!” Ned protested, finding himself suddenly outnumbered.

“Get it?” Benjen grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Because Brandon and Cat used to boink!”

“Yes, thank you, I get it!” Ned blushed.

“Only virgins call it boinking, Benjen,” Brandon rolled his eyes.

“I’ve had sex!” Benjen went red, suggesting the opposite.

“Oh don’t worry, what are you, fourteen?”

“I’m eighteen you dick!”

“Well don’t worry, you’ll get whomever Lyanna passes down to you,” Brandon said serenely.

“What?” Ned laughed.

“I’ve realized it’s our tradition. I passed Cat on to you, you passed Ashara on to Lyanna. Wonder who she’s going to give to Benjen. Better hope it’s not Robert!”

“Shut up!!” Benjen whined.

“Oooh are you going to stand up and object at the wedding?” Brandon teased. “Say the Lannister girl can’t marry him, he’s yours by Stark family law.”

“Stoooop!”

“As best man, I cannot condone such behavior,” Ned pretended to take Brandon’s suggestion seriously. “He’ll have to choose someone else.”

“Who else is there?” Brandon pretended to think. “Rhaegar’s dead, that wasteoid over in Essos is already married...”

“Howland Reed,” Ned provided triumphantly with a smirk. “They dated in third grade. She beat up some bullies who were teasing him and he gave her a ring pop.”

“Good family, the Reeds,” Brandon nodded seriously.

“I hate you guys,” Benjen slid down in his seat.

“And he’s a northerner. You’d still be in the neighborhood!”

“Where’s Barbrey,” Benjen asked, in a patently obvious attempt to change the conversation from his impending romance with Howland Reed.

“Barbrey is a delightful girl but I feel our time together has run its course,” Brandon began, a trifle pompously.

“She dumped you, didn’t she?” Benjen asked drily.

“Not in those words. Or any words really. But I assumed as much when she keyed ‘Brandon Stark has a tiny cock’ across the hood of my car,” Brandon admitted.

“Oh wow, Brandon, I’m so sorry,” Ned frowned. Cat had said there was a rumor going around that Jon was Ashara and Brandon’s. Competing against another rumor that Jon was his and Ashara’s.

“Was it because of the thing with Ashara?”

“No it was because I have a tiny cock,” Brandon rolled his eyes. “Of course it was. I could tell her the pictures were fake until I was blue in the face. I guess when you’re caught with your pants down as many times as I’ve been, it rings a little hollow.”

“Maybe if Lyanna called her to explain,” Ned began.

“Look, it’s really not a big deal. We were on our last legs and there’s a certain dramatic irony to her dumping me over the one girl I DIDN’T cheat on her with,” Brandon grinned. “You know I actually did have the girl they photoshopped Ashara’s head onto? Over my office desk.”

“Don’t tell father,” Ned wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“Why is it that everybody gets to have sex but me?” Benjen sulked. “It’s not like I’ve taken an oath of celibacy!”

“Don’t tell me what?” Rickard Stark asked, as he walked in with Jon and Robb in each arm. “Ned help me, I think my back’s about to give out. I can’t believe I used to do this with you and Lyanna. What are you feeding these boys?!”

“I’ve got you,” Ned cooed as he took Robb, letting Rickard shift Jon off his hip and into both arms.

“Brandon was just telling us how he had his aide in his office—“ Benjen began.

“Going over the latest tax proposals from the city,” Brandon interjected hastily. “They’re outrageous father, the northern part of the city might me the biggest but it’s also the poorest and these rates are tyranny!”

“You don’t have to get me started,” Rickard shook his head, and that was all it took to send them spiraling down a rabbit hole of local politics. Ned took some comfort in the way that as much as his life changed, the people in it didn’t change at all. It was nice to know there were some people he could always count on.

“Want to do some work on the backyard porch?” Benjen asked Ned hopefully. Ned laughed. The backyard porch had been a construction project for as long as Ned could remember. Rickard always had a vision of what his backyard could look like, a vision that seemed to hover tantalizingly out of reach of reality. The number of weekends he and Robert had spent in high school trying not smash their thumbs in with hammers as they drank beers and Lyanna made fun of them from where she was suntanning on a beach towel nearby. And now that project had become Benjen’s. Someday it would be Robb and Jon’s.

“You shouldn’t let Brandon get to you,” Ned said, a little shyly, as they set out for the garage to get the toolbox. “The right girl is worth waiting for.”

“Says the guy who has insanely gorgeous girls chasing him without doing a thing,” Benjen growled. “I will have you know that the shy awkward thing only works for you and literally nobody else.”

“Good thing you’re not shy and awkward,” Ned pushed him.

They spent a companionable morning dismantling the steps down to the lawn, which Rickard had decided were the wrong height and width. It was with some surprise that Ned looked down at the time and realized he would have to make good time to get to the Sept an hour early.

“You won’t forget to give the babysitter my number?” Ned called over his shoulder as he frantically knotted and reknotted the hideous tie Cersei had provided him.

“Yes, stop worrying,” Brandon rolled his eyes. “And you can knot that as many times as you like, it won’t make it any less ugly.”

“You’re right,” Ned admitted, to which he wasn’t sure. “Be good,” he told the boys, kissing both on the crown of their head.

“No kiss for me?” Brandon pretended to pout. Ned gave him the middle finger and ran out.

He made good time to the sept, trying to smile as a valet hurried to assist him with his car. The place was huge, and he was a little bewildered as to where he should go. He shot a quick text to Robert as he walked in.

The entry hall was overrun with Lannisters. Ned felt his feet freeze as he stared at the scene in horror. How had they crammed so many blond-haired arrogant looking individuals into one place.

“Hullo,” Ned looked down as he felt a tug at his pants. A small skinny blond haired boy of about eight was looking up at him. “I’m Tyrek.”

“I’m Ned,” Ned said, swallowing a laugh. “Have you seen the bride or the groom by any chance?”

“Cersei is in the garden with Uncle Tywin,” Tyrek told him solemnly.

“Uh right,” Ned felt a shiver go down his spine. Cersei didn’t need to know he was here. “What about Robert? The groom?”

Tyrek shook his head.

“Okay,” Ned said uncertainly. “I’m just going to look for him...” he tried to pry Tyrek’s sticky hand off his suit pants.

Once disentangled, Ned set off to find the groom.

He thought he’d had some success when he spotted Robert’s father, waving a glass of red wine and laughing to someone.

“Mr. Baratheon!” Ned said hopefully.

“Ned Stark, as I live and breathe,” Steffon Baratheon grinned. “You’ve met Tywin Lannister haven’t you?”

Ned froze, as the man he was talking to turned around.

“I’m not sure we’ve had the pleasure,” Tywin drawled. “But of course I know you. You’re the boy from the police video.”

Ned stiffened, not sure what to say. If Steffon noticed something was amiss however, he did not let on.

“I keep saying Tywin, the only cure for a nervous breakdown is sex. Hot dirty sex in a semi-public place,” Steffon elbowed Tywin, who was busy incinerating Ned by death glare.

“So nice to see you both, I’m very happy for Cersei and Robert,” Ned stammered before excusing himself. He wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead, convinced he could still feel Tywin’s stare digging into his back.

Fortunately the next familiar face was a friendlier one.

“Mace!” Ned called, spotting the Tyrells as they entered.

Mace gave him a slightly harried smile, trying to balance as he was his mother’s handbag, a four year old child, and a wedding gift.

“If you’ll just excuse me, for a second,” Mace said to his wife and mother, neither of whom was paying him the slightest amount of attention.

“This must be Loras,” Ned smiled at the boy, an elfin looking creature with long honey brown curls. He seemed to have very little of his father in him, which was not necessarily a bad thing. “Here let me help you with that,” Ned took the gift from Mace’s other hand, allowing him to rebalance.

“Thanks. The sitter fell through,” Mace sighed. “This morning was a nightmare trying to get Loras into his little suit. Alerie has been in a panic that she’s offended Cersei somehow and went out and got the most ridiculously expensive crystal vase as a wedding present and my mother went through my credit card statements and found it and the two have been going at it hammer and tongs,” he looked dolefully at his son. “At this point I’m just hoping they kill each other.”

“Well I can put this down for you with the other gifts at least,” Ned offered. “Do you have the ring? I just don’t want to forget...”

He trailed off at the look of horror on Mace’s face.

“Mace Tyrell, you didn’t!” Ned growled.

“It’s back in Highgarden! Shit, I can picture exactly which drawer it’s in!”

“I don’t care which drawer it’s in! You literally had one job to do!!! I can’t tell Cersei we don’t have a ring, she’ll kill me! And then Jaime will kill me! And then Tywin will kill me!”

“Robert might also kill you,” Mace offered weakly.

“NOT HELPFUL!”

Robert wouldn’t really kill him, would he? Oh gods, he might. He was the best man, this was literally the only thing he had to take care of today. He was a terrible best man and a terrible friend and what in seven hells were they going to do?!

“Okay the pocket squares are terrible but you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Thoros ambled up to them. Somehow the outfit seemed even uglier on him, but Thoros wore it with a sort of cheerful indifference.

“Mace... forgot the ring,” Ned bit out.

“I didn’t mean to!” Mace wrung his hands.

“We have to tell Robert. Have you seen him?”

“I haven’t.”

“Well Steffon is here, so he must be somewhere,” Ned frowned.

The three of them proceeded to search every nook of the sept, a process that took some thirty minutes.

“It’s his wedding! Where the heck is he?” Ned fretted. Should he have called him this morning to make sure he was up? He thought Stannis would do that! Should he call him now? He felt his pants pocket for his phone, but it was nowhere to be found. Fuck, he couldn’t have lost it already, he had just gotten it replaced!

“Okay, we clearly need to find a substitute ring,” Thoros said slowly. “One that’s nice enough that Cersei won’t freak out about the wedding photos.”

“It’s going to have to be REALLY nice,” Ned frowned.

“So let’s see,” Thoros said, eyeing Mace. “Who on earth might possibly have an incredibly expensive ring that we can substitute?”

Mace shrugged.

“Like say a sixty thousand dragon ring?” Thoros prodded.

“I mean we can look around the wedding guests, but that’s super high end,” Mace scratched his head. “And we can’t ask anyone who might tell other guests.”

“Oh we should definitely borrow it without asking,” Thoros said bluntly.

“See when you take something that doesn’t belong to you without permission, it’s stealing. It doesn’t matter if you eventually intend to return it,” Ned scrunched his face. Thoros was a nice guy, but Ned felt like he had missed some basic ethics classes at some point in his life.

“Right, Mace. Who could we steal a very expensive ring from that you would be in a very good position to return it to after the wedding?” Thoros stared at Mace, ignoring Ned entirely.

“Oh no,” Mace’s face went ashen. “You can’t possibly mean...”

“Gam Gam!” Loras waved over Mace’s shoulder. “Look, Gam Gam!”

“You can’t possibly be serious,” Mace hissed.

“Where’s my favorite boy?” Olenna Tyrell approached and lifted Loras from Mace’s grasp. Ned took a second to covertly study her ring. It was really nice. Three rubies and two diamonds in an alternating pattern. One might even say the rubies were Lannister red.

“Now who isn’t serious boys? You look frightfully glum for a wedding,” Olenna eyed them suspiciously.

“Nothing mother, I was just explaining a joke I’d heard,” Mace shifted from foot to foot.

“See that’s your problem dear, you’re supposed to tell the joke not explain it,” Olenna rolled her eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take my grandson back over to his birdbrain of a mother. Hopefully that will keep her occupied, I really don’t have time to babysit the two of you. I have my eye on bigger game.”

“Do NOT steal my mother’s ring,” Mace whispered angrily.

“Of course not,” Thoros said amiably, and Mace’s shoulders dropped in relief.

“You’ll steal her ring,” Thoros patted him on the back.

“What?! I don’t think you understand what my mother would do to me if...”

“Ned, tell Robert he will have a very lovely ring. We’re taking care of it,” Thoros slung a not entirely friendly arm over Mace’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” Ned gave Thoros a relieved smile. Now to find Robert... well he had looked in just about every room in this sept. He had to be outside in the grounds.

Ned walked into the gardens and looked around. Guests were mingling and he could hear the musical laugh of Cassana Baratheon from the center of a group of admirers. He edged a little closer to see if Robert was with his mother—was Cassana Baratheon wearing a white dress? Nope nope nope, Ned backtracked. He wanted no part of that.

“Pssst!” There was a whisper from a grove with a little shrine. Ned looked around but didn’t see anybody.

“PSSST!”

There it was again, louder! Hesitantly, Ned drifted toward the sound.

“Stark!” The voice was in an urgent undertone, and Ned took another step toward the trees. Only for someone to grab his arm and pull him behind the shrine.

“Hey! Who the hell—Hoster?” Ned blinked, to find his father-in-law staring at him.

“Stark, I need to speak to you,” Hoster Tully said formally and a little stiffly for someone who was lurking in the dark corners of a garden to spring out at people.

“I have repeatedly attempted to contact Cat. Phone calls, texts, an old fashioned letter... it’s not like her to ignore me like this!”

“I believe Catelyn made her feelings about your behavior quite clearly,” Ned said uncomfortably.

“Listen, I’m not... can you just arrange a meeting? I have to apologize.”

Ned had to stop his jaw from dropping. Hoster Tully, apologize?

“I can’t lose my daughter over this. And I don’t know when I’ll have another chance to see her in person, if this keeps up. Can you help me? Please?” Hoster Tully ground out the last word as though it were physically painful.

Ned shifted uncomfortably. Cat had been very clear about her disinclination to speak to her father for the next decade, at best. But he was her family. Just the thought of something coming between him and his own father and not being able to fix it gave Ned a lump in his throat. Cat would be annoyed with him, but didn’t Hoster deserve one more shot to make things right?

“Um I’ll see what I can do,” Ned said tentatively.

“I appreciate it. I do. I think you are a good man, Eddard. I am sorry if I overlook that. I want more for Catelyn than what you can give her, but I have always thought you were a good man,” Hoster said bluntly.

Ned rolled his eyes. On the other hand, maybe he could just say nothing and leave his obnoxious pill of an in-law to stew in dark corners.

He mulled the dilemma as he trudged back toward the sept. He wished he could tell Robert about the interaction he’d just had, maybe get his thoughts. Instead, he was nearly flattened by Jaime Lannister, running around a corner.

“Stark!”

Ned sighed. Why did he always run into Jaime when he was already severely rattled?

“Look, it’s not like a super big deal or anything, and you shouldn’t worry but the thing is Cersei is, um, missing,” Jaime coughed.

“Missing?” Ned stared.

“Temporarily,” Jaime hastened to add. “Totally fixable. Just don’t tell Robert. Keep him distracted, okay? We’ll find her and he doesn’t need to be any the wiser.”

Jaime ran off. Ned continued to stare after him.

No ring. Missing bride. And where in the seven hells was Robert?!

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mysteriouslyzealouspandalov-blog · 6 years ago

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Jon and Dany's relationship has always been the endgame, says 'Game of Thrones' director

New Post has been published on https://relationshipguideto.com/must-see/jon-and-danys-relationship-has-always-been-the-endgame-says-game-of-thrones-director/

Jon and Dany's relationship has always been the endgame, says 'Game of Thrones' director

Dany and Jon, sittin' in a cabin…

Image: hbo

The penultimate episode of Game of Thrones Season 7 was arguably the most stressful installment since the Red Wedding — North of the Wall, we saw one of Daenerys’ beloved dragons die, before being resurrected by the Night King, while back in Winterfell, Arya and Sansa escalated their cold war to nuclear levels, all thanks to Littlefinger’s puppeteering.

With only one episode left this season — and only six episodes to come in Season 8 — we’re rapidly approaching the show’s endgame, which means that characters we love are probably going to start dying again, and alliances will be forced to solidify or shatter in the face of the Night King’s advance on Westeros.

SEE ALSO: Prepare for a super-sized ‘Game of Thrones’ finale and start freaking out about the cryptic episode title

With that in mind, we spoke to Alan Taylor, director of episode 706, “Beyond the Wall,” to discuss the developments of last Sunday’s episode and the tensions rising heading into the finale — including the fact that George R. R. Martin was apparently dropping hints about his ultimate plan for the story way back in Season 1.

Taylor on location in Iceland

Image: helen sloan/hbo

The last time you directed on the show was in Season 2 — has the experience changed much since then?

Yeah, it’s funny; it’s very, very different, and yet the same. The first two seasons, it had by no means the scale of audience attention that it has now, and when I came back after being away for a while, I sort of thought I’d be returning to the same enterprise. When I came back, I was immediately struck by how much bigger the whole thing has gotten. It was always big — there were always two units functioning simultaneously in different countries, so it was always a certain scale — but now instead of one bunker you walk by on the way to the stage, now there’s 10.

The main difference, I think, is probably the certain story elements, like the dragons. The visual effects are a huge part of it in a way they weren’t before. If you’re doing one shot on a frozen lake with a dragon, it’s actually seven shots that are being stitched together in various layers, shot in various ways to compose into the story beats, so it’s a much more complex machine now than it used to be. But the funny thing is that the spirit remains the same. It still feels like an indie production. People are still completely unpretentious, including the actors and how they do the work. It still feels scruffy and rough and ready. It’s got the worst craft services of any production I’ve ever been on — it’s got two crackers and some cold tea. [Laughs.] It hasn’t gotten bloated at all. It’s still lean, but the finished product is huge.

How long did that final battle on the frozen lake take to film, all told?

Oh boy. I’d forgotten how many days we were there on that frozen lake, but I can tell you it felt like roughly forever. It was getting up pre-dawn every day, going to this quarry that was outside Belfast. The crew would be there already, sweeping whatever rain and stuff had happened off the ice and restoring the snow on our set, which was huge and 360 degrees.

I remember the DP — who is brilliant, Jonathan Freeman — despairing because he realized one day we had bright sunlight, which is horrible when you’re North of the Wall, and fog, which is impossible to shoot in, and snow and rain all in the same day. He’s trying to pull a coherent vision out of all those elements. Coupled with the fact that when Dany arrives, she’s sitting on a huge styrofoam green thing on top of our [island], and you’re shooting three layers of shot … any time anybody goes through the ice, you know you’re going to be shooting that later in a dunk tank on a sound stage. It was huge and insanely complex. We were there for weeks, and I know that the investment of my time was something I’ve never experienced in television. I think from my first scout of that location to finishing the episode took five months, which is way into feature film territory, not television.

I honestly had no idea you filmed the ice lake battle in a quarry in Belfast instead of in Iceland until I saw the behind-the-scenes video from filming.

Yeah, that was tricky. We knew we were going to be running around in Iceland for the most part for the first half of the episode and then have to find a way to transition to our ice lake, and we were lucky to find an intersection in this gorge that we were in in Iceland that could believably take us to this new set, so that worked out. We had to shoot the frozen lake close to home, because there’s too much prosthetics and pyrotechnics and stunts that we couldn’t do that remotely somewhere on location. We had to do that somewhere near base camp.

I’m so fascinated by the biology of the dragons – can you talk me through the process of what happened to Viserion after the Night King hit him and we saw that explosion from his throat?

A tremendous amount of thought went into them from the early stages. It was very important to David and Dan that the dragons be quintessentially believable. They had a huge disgust for dragons that had four legs and wings. Many times you see dragons rendered that way, and their point is that nowhere in nature do you see a creature that is built that way. So they were adamant that they had to have large hind legs and that the wings had to be elements of the four legs.

Beyond that, the biology of how you blow fire and what’s the pilot light like on the inside of the throat … One of the fun things here, and there’s a lot of debate as to how much we could do it, was when he gets stabbed through the throat, he’s trailing blood as he falls. He’s also trailing smoke and flame as he falls. So he looks like a jet fighter going down. We were mindful of what the reality would be if you punctured one of these guys there.

And then a lot of thought went into the logistics of the scale of it; how much room is going to be required to arc around, how much ice will it tear up when it hits the ground? And besides all that, trying to make sure that it had a chance to play emotionally. One of my favorite shots is the one where Viserion sinks below the ice, and it’s the one time we take a long time with the moment and let it stretch. We’re in a full battle at the time, but we had to let that moment hang long enough… and the visual effects department did a wonderful job of realizing it, you feel the mass of the creature. It feels so lifelike in death. I think it really worked well.

There’s also a lot of effort going into giving them moments of character. There’s a tiny moment that probably not many people noticed, but when Dany and Tyrion are walking out to the dragons when she decides she’s going to go off on this mission, they’re just waking up from a nap. You see three dragons raising up in the foreground, and one of them shakes his head side to side. That’s because our storyboard artist, who’s kind of brilliant, who has two dogs, knows that when her dogs get up from a long sleep, they shake their head. You can see, I think it’s Viserion in the background, doing that gesture. It’s little observations like that to make sure the dragons are fully alive.

We see Jon and Daenerys share a moment of intimacy on the ship, but then there’s that subtle shift and Dany pulls away and shuts down on him – what’s going through her mind in that moment?

Certainly those who have read the books or are reading the books know that we’ve been heading in this direction for a long time. I’ve mentioned before that it was a revelation to me about the scale of George R. R. Martin’s thinking that he came to visit the set in Season 1, when none of us knew what we were contending with really, and said a few things that made it clear that, for him, this whole epic thing — this story he was telling — all came down to these two and them getting together.

Of course, back then, none of us knew that. We didn’t know that Robb Stark was going to [die] – he seemed like he was the heir apparent, and the fact that this bastard sidekick brother and this girl on a whole different continent were going to turn into the core of the show, we didn’t see that coming yet.

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I think we’ve known for a while that Tyrion is making fun of Dany, because he sees what’s coming. I think there’s a bunch of things at work in that scene, and they pulled it off wonderfully. It’s just the right level of swooning for each other but drawing back. It was one close-up of Emilia that really tells that story very well, where you see her, she’s going over the edge, and then she forces herself back when she pulls her hand back. It’s probably because she’s got a lot of responsibility. She can’t be falling like this. Tyrion has already made fun of her for this, so she’s got that motive to draw back. I think everybody understands it’s pretty inevitable.

The tension in Arya and Sansa’s relationship is almost unbearable right now. How did you and Maisie approach that final scene between them from Arya’s perspective?

All my favorite scenes are the scenes between the girls. I think it’s probably because I have two young daughters who spend a healthy amount of time hating each other’s guts. Watching these two feel each other out and test each other and feeling the balance of power shift back and forth between them was a real delight. I remember reading the script and thinking, “Oh my God. It’s eight pages, and they’re just standing there. What are we going to do?”

We blocked it in a way that felt like it had a little bit of momentum to it, and there’s a nice thing where they’re turning the tables on each other. [In their first scene together, where Arya confronts Sansa about the letter] each one takes some time with the bloody carcasses hanging behind them… you really feel that they both have a case to make. What I also like is they’re both legitimately lethal at this point, and we know that Arya can kill things at the drop of a hat. I think we’re starting to realize that Sansa has gotten somewhere quite dark. She’s learned a lot from Cersei, as she says at one point.

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I love the fact that that tension is there, and I just wanted people to feel that you weren’t sure who was going to kill who, but it was quite believable that either one could kill the other. There are things like the dagger in the scene between them and the fact that Brienne is being sent away to clear the deck so there’s no police in town. The idea is to build up the expectation as much as possible that one of them is going to die, and hopefully surprise people by what happens.

Game of Thrones airs Sundays at 9 p.m. on HBO.

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