#also NO the point is/was not for theon to learn how lucky he was

[alleyskywalker]

I'm sorry (I'm really not) but if you expect your hostage to be loyal to you, then you deserve to get "betrayed" by them and had it coming.

[a-libra-writes]

ASOIAF - Their S/O Being an Unassuming yet Ruthless Lady

what if you were the problematic fave...

In this imagine, you'll be with: Ned Stark, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Benjen Stark, Jory Cassel, Theon Greyjoy, Yara Greyjoy, Victarion Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, Jorah Mormont, Tywin Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Sandor Clegane, Bronn of Blackwater, Petyr Baelish, Robert Baratheon, Stannis Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, Margaery Tyrell, Brynden Tully, Edmure Tully, Brienne of Tarth, Ramsay Bolton, Roose Bolton, Oberyn Martell, Arianne Martell

Ned Stark

Given the booming arranged marriage business in Westeros, Ned was not aware of that side of you for a while. You hid it well, and besides, it only came up when you were protecting him and your family. So Ned is conflicted. He was very fond of you at that point, even loved you, but the honorable man struggles to approve of the actions you were suggesting or already did. It doesn't sit right with him, even if it's to protect ones you love. You and Ned have had many conversations (and arguments) about it, but ultimately, he can't change you. He just tries to reel in your more egregious plans and attempts to compromise. It doesn't help that the North begins to whisper about the real wolf in Winterfell, the Lady Stark, who hides claws under her silk gloves.

Robb Stark

Robb doesn't see your ruthlessness for a long time because he's hopelessly in love and thinks the world of you. He's so lucky you love him back and want him safe, because you could've easily been the downfall of this boy. It's Robb's allies - especially his mother and Lord Roose - who can see your true cunning, and often wonder about your intentions. It's wartime when Robb begins to see this other side of you. While he disagrees with you on some issues, other times he understands the reasons behind your methods - he just struggles to stomach it. Behind his back you’re known as his Queen of Steel, and enemy and ally alike learn not to cross you.

Sansa Stark

For a long time, Sansa didn’t notice this side of you. You always showed care and love to her, and she knew you meant it. So even if she noticed some things you said, or heard some concerning rumors, Sansa justified it in her head. She knew you wanted to protect your family and her, and being a Lady was difficult to begin with. Of course you’re ‘forced’ to take the extreme measures you do. Depending on your actions, it may be harder to justify your actions to herself and others, even if you clearly love her. It could end up becoming a sore spot in your relationship.

Jon Stark

While Jon picked up some of your nature whenever he talked with you, he didn’t really see it until you had to protect those close to you. He’s conflicted. On one hand, he respects the lengths you go to defend your family and home. On the other hand, he’ll feel uncomfortable with some of your ideas and methods. If you were honest with Jon about your plans, he would feel better about them. You’re important to him, so he would want to keep you safe above all, knowing what sort of enemies you’re dealing with … but he also knows how stubborn and clever you are, so he watches and listens carefully,

Benjen Stark

Benjen picks up on your true intentions and the meaning behind your sweet words; reading people is something he’s adept at. While he understands why you might be like this - Westerosi society is enthusiastic when it comes to treating women terribly - he doesn’t always agree with your choices. Though he doesn’t protest too much. He’s a man of the Black, and politics like this are what he specifically avoids. Benjen admires your cunning when he hears rumors, and jokes with you about the reputation you’ve garnered when he visits your keep and warms your bed. And honestly, he really likes that sweet tone you use when you speak down to lords twice your age.

Jory Cassell

Oh, Jory. He doesn’t see it. Anytime he hears whispers and rumors about something you’ve supposedly done, he doesn’t believe it at all. His lover isn’t like that at all; you’re nothing but sweet and patient. You don’t mention any trouble you have with this lord or that, unless it’s some harmless complaining. You show the man nothing but your good side, and in return, you have his absolute loyalty. Even if confronted with some evidence, Jory would take a long time to believe it. If you did anything like that, it was obviously for a good reason.

Theon Greyjoy

Theon was one of those boys who teased you and was convinced you were a typical helpess lady. Prettier and cleverer than most, sure. It wasn't until the War of the Five Kings that all the wrath and fierceness you'd been hiding came out. And Theon was really into it. He agreed with your plans more often than not, and if any made him squeamish, he was determined not to show it so you wouldn't think him cowardly. When he joined his father's side against the North, he knew he just made a powerful enemy. He couldn't help but think of all the times he teased you and how you basically let him get away with it… now that he's a traitor, you won't be so nice …

Post-Reek, Theon is far more wary of you. Even if you treated him well and welcomed him with forgiving arms, he would be nervous. That glint in your eyes when you spotted an enemy filled him with anxiety, as if it were directed at him. Your unassuming nature would feel like a lie, a trap. It would be a difficult relationship to progress, if it was possible at all.

Yara Greyjoy

You thought you could keep that sweet act up around her? Once she’s sure she has enough reason to suspect you, she starts following the rumors and digging deeper. Yara would just bluntly confront you about the innocent smile you’re wearing. She’s not admonishing you - quite the opposite, she’s very attracted to how you get your way from men. It’s different from her method, but she respects it nonetheless. Yara loves watching you cut idiotic men down with words, though she doesn’t agree with all the schemes you concote. When you two hve discussions about the best way to handle a problem, she’s always amused when your ruthless side comes out. It’s very Ironborn, isn’t it?

Victarion Greyjoy

The big Ironborn had no idea of your schemes and plans for the longest time. He bought into the sweet, innocent act, seeing you as his helpless wife that needed protecting. Aeron and even Balon would comment on your cunning, but Victarion couldn't understand how they thought that. He'd only seen your affectionate side, and you were nothing but respectful to his family. You could keep your schemes hidden for a long time, if you were careful. But when you finally slip up, or just get tired of hiding and pretending, Victarion is… impressed. He agrees with the plans you put forward, noting it's what a true Ironborn would do. There's almost an eagerness and pride as he follows your orders to the bloody end. Your approval of his work makes it all the sweeter. You both have the potential to be a very frightening couple.

Daenerys Targaryen

Initially, Daenerys is so intrigued by you and your sweeter side, she doesn't pick up the rumors surrounding you. They seem too unbelievable. Once she does, Daenerys is off-put at first. She doesn’t like being deceived, though your affection for her is genuine. While she understands where you’re coming from once you come clean and explain your plans, she doesn’t agree with the harsher methods you employ. Sometimes your discussions get heated, even though Daenerys knows you have her protection in mind. Many times she’s said that she wants to protect you, not the other way around. Given her feelings for you, and her trust, the Dragon Queen will at least listen to your plans. Sometimes she uses them, sometimes she doesn’t.

Jorah Mormont

The poor man is so in love, he doesn’t see that other side for the longest time, unless you openly showed it. And even then, Jorah would do mental gymnastics to justify it. Westeros is a cruel place for a Lady, you’re doing what you must to protect your family and him - and Essos is dangerous, isn’t it? Aren’t you just doing what’s best? How could he fault you for that? Jorah would think that maybe he’d do the same.. If he had half a mind for schemes, anyway. It would take some extreme action for Jorah to actually speak out against you, and even then, as long as you love and reassure him, he’s willing to set it aside. His devotion is well known among your enemies, so while he’s your greatest defender, he may also be a serious weakness …

Tywin Lannister

Well. Tywin would see right through your persona, aided by the rumors and schemes he’d uncovered (and likely attempted to thwart before even meeting you). He understands how so many lords fall for those eyes and that smile, but it’s your mind he has to stay a step ahead of. In your married life, you’re the one everyone believes is harmless, completely unaware of your role in any intrigue involving the Lannisters and their interests. There were times - especially at the start of the marriage - when Tywin wondered if your affection for him was true or just another aspect of that persona… now he’s quite attracted to that fake innocence you give others, knowing what intelligence hides behind it.

Tyrion Lannister

Tyrion is one of the few people who sees through your unassuming nature right away, and it makes him wary. Your initial friendship was slow building, as it took time for Tyrion to realize that your claws and teeth only truly came out when you were dealing with your enemies. He began to admire your intellect and cunning, and in spite of himself, began falling for you. While Tyrion will occasionally admonish your methods, he can’t act like he hasn’t dirtied his hands for his family or himself. He finds it very amusing that between the two of you, people assume the worst of him, completely overlooking the dangers a charming lady can hold.

Jaime Lannister

Initially, Jaime’s feelings deafened him to the rumors of things you’d done. Whenever he did hear of them, it didn’t affect him much. His own family is rife with schemes and manipulations that Jaime has told himself he has no part in. If anything, your behavior is normal to him. The lengths you’re willing to go to protect your loved ones - him included - just shows how strong your devotion is. He might raise objections here or there, but Jaime is emboldened by what you’ll do on his behalf. It makes him want to do the same, recklessly throwing himself at your enemies with his sword, the only thing besides love he believes he can offer you.

Sandor Clegane

While he had some suspicions - who was that sweet and patient in this shithole of a court, unless they were planning something? - it took some time observing you before Sandor starts to pick up the things you’re involved in… not that it mattered to him. The fact you were so friendly and kind was strange, and he was suspicious for the longest time, but it was hard to keep those walls up for long. The fact you actually care for him and have an appetite for ruthlessly dealing with enemies makes you something of a conundrum to Sandor. He’s only ever seen power corrupt, not love. It would take a lot for him to fully trust that you enjoy being with him and want to stay, not dispose of him as soon as he’s no longer useful.

Bronn of the Blackwater

Yeah, this mercenary doesn’t notice that ruthless side unless you outright show it. He’ll write you off as a pretty face, amused by your flirting in spite of your ‘demure’ appearance. Once he sees that other side he finds it incredibly attractive. Bronn will start to notice that glint in your eye when you’re about to verbally eviscerate someone, or give an order that will lead to actual evisceration. He supports it, hell, he’ll help you with some of your shit if it means he gets to share your bed. Tyrion gives him plenty of warnings, but Bronn ignores them, obviously.

Petyr Baelish

When you met, he was both suspicious and drawn to that unusual smile playing on your lips. After much research and investigation, Petyr felt very clever for figuring you out. You would make a better ally than enemy, he decided, so he went about currying your favor. He didn’t account for two things - that you’re far more charming and cunning than he imagined. Petyr loves how you talk circles around him, foil his plans, undermine other’s schemes to benefit your own. It’s as infuriating as it is alluring. Try as he might, he can’t resist continuing to encourage and court you.

Robert Baratheon

No surprise, the oldest Baratheon is utterly clueless to your machinations. And they only help him, considering how many enemies Robert made with his coup. He believes you a capable queen and wife - in spite of his heartache over Lyanna - and often heaps praise upon you, especially when he’s drunk. If only he knew the half of it. It’s the likes of Jon Arryn, Tywin Lannister, Littlefinger and Stannis who see what a true obstacle (or enemy) you are. It’s well known you’re the true power behind the throne, the one who covers Robert’s weaknesses and highlights his strengths.

Stannis Baratheon

By the time you two were engaged, Stannis already knew you were clever and obviously hiding it from others. He appreciates it when you talk to him directly about your plans, as he has little patience for schemes. Stannis doesn’t always agree with your methods, but he does listen to what you have to say each time. He appreciates your blunt counsel and your way of seeing things, though he’ll stubbornly argue if he feels differently about a plan. Now, as far as that sweet persona you put on… it greatly annoys him. He doesn’t see why you have to hide yourself or try to deceive others. If you had true affection for him, he’d be even more unsure on how to accept it, wondering if this was just part of that act you’d play. It might actually take a while for him to accept your feelings and his own; more than unusual, anyway.

Davos Seaworth

Unlike some, Davos sees both sides as genuine. You’re ruthless to enemies, but much of that is a desire to protect those you love. In a way, some of your actions remind him of Stannis. You do unpleasant things to survive, and a lady in Westeros must do all she can to survive, or she’ll be crushed by other’s machinations. He will tell you when he feels you’ve gone too far, as he worries about losing you to your enemies. Some days Davos feels sorry for you, even as he holds you. He’ll idly wonder what your life may have been like if you were born in a kinder world. … Maybe you would have been the same?

Margaery Tyrell

While her grandmother warned her several times about you, Margaery couldn’t help but be drawn in by your sweet expression. She knew plenty of vipers with lovely faces in both Highgarden and King’s Landing, but this felt different. The closer you two became, the more she was sure that you cared deeply about her… and the more she began to see how you handled those you didn’t care for. It was almost thrilling, to have someone so capable and frightening at her side, protecting her. She understands why her grandmother and brothers are still wary of you, but she has full faith in your love for her. And she WOULD ask you outright if any rumor truly concerned her, but none have. You would never do such things to her or those she cared about.

Brynden Tully

Bryden isn’t as clueless to your more ruthless side as some men are. He’s heard rumors, though he avoids court and all the politics, it’s hard to ignore the reputation you were steadily building. Brynden knows your feelings for him and your other loved ones are true, but he’d still ask you about some rumors directly. He prefers you to be honest, and after thinking about it, Brynden could understand your viewpoint to some extent. Especially during the war - he might even think some of your machinations were necessary to help Robb. There are times when Brynden muses about the difficulties women in Westeros face. Perhaps, if he could just protect and hide you well enough, you wouldn’t have to do such schemes. Then again, he isn’t blind to the things you do for your own power. It’s conflicting, loving someone like this... But the Blackfish finds himself at your side each day, anyway.

Edmure Tully

Edmure is clueless to all of it, he truly is. His father and sisters may have worried about the match, but Edmure only ever saw your sweet smile and innocent persona. And he knows it’s true, he believes your feelings for him are real. Rumors and concerns brought to him are quickly dismissed. His dear wife would never do such things, and if she did, she would have had a good reason. It really isn’t until wartime that Edmure begins to see your true cunning, if you allow him to see any of it. Whatever discomfort rising in his chest would be pushed aside. You were doing it for the good of Riverrun, for him. He would always be your most ardent and loyal supporter.

Brienne of Tarth

She doesn’t notice it at first, especially when you’ve always been kind and good to her. The kindest that she’s ever had someone be, actually … so when she slowly begins to see things, notice them, and hear the rumors… it slowly chips at her. Brienne doesn’t want to believe it, she can’t. She’s always had you in such high esteem. She’ll be gutted when you come clean, even if when you explain your reasons. Even if they were for good, for protection. It takes a lot of talking and a lot of thinking for Brienne to want to stay beside you, knowing what you’re capable of. She often wonders if she made the right choice.

Ramsay Bolton

When he first brought you to the Dreadfort, got in your face, threatened you - he noticed something was off. That glint in your eye that the other girls didn’t have, especially Ladies. The more Ramsay saw that smile, the more he felt like a boy poking a snake’s den. It was exciting in it’s own way, and he wanted to keep poking, just to see what happened. He really didn’t anticipate the cunning you were actually capable of, even if his father warned him many times. You alternate between letting Ramsay think he’s in charge and taking control, putting him in his place through actions or words. It’s both humiliating and thrilling to the Bolton heir. He loves your anger, and he can’t decide if he prefers it directed at himself or others.

Roose Bolton

In your few interactions before your marriage, Roose had inklings of your true nature - but he didn’t want to admit he was roped in by that act, that sweetness and modesty that he thought he could take advantage of. It wasn’t until Roose was scheming to marry you that he began to see the truth. You countered him, infuriatingly, getting wind of his own schemes and turning them around. It was like a cat and mouse game that you both played, one that was both thrilling and frustrating. But he wanted more, and he encouraged more. It’s safe to say that you and Roose bring out the best and worst in each other. It’s been a long time since the Dreadfort saw such an unholy matrimony.

Oberyn Martell

Oberyn knows exactly what you’re up to most of the time, but he likes to play clueless. He’s admitted several times he loves seeing you fix your cold gaze on an upstart lord and using your sweet smile to dish out vicious words. When he first approached you, Oberyn knew of the rumors, but he also knew how kind you were to his family and daughters. He realized your fangs only come out for those you consider your enemies, and you used them to protect as well as attack… which he finds very attractive.

Arianne Martell

She had heard the rumors and did a few investigations herself; and she had to say, she was impressed. Playing the sweet flower while being a viper hiding underneath was something Arianne was used to, and you certainly kept busy. She approached you as an ally, though the closer you became, the more she admired your fierce protectiveness and natural cunning. You two became a fixture in Dorne’s court, a formidable pair that visiting lords and ladies often underestimated. While her father didn’t think you were the best influence, Arianne wouldn’t change you for anything.

[asprettyasyourown]

How/Where do you think Jon and Arya will meet again? And how/where do you think Dany and Arya will meet?

Honestly, I can’t see Arya and Jon meeting anywhere else other than Winterfell. It would be such a satisfying “conclusion” to this aspect of their storyline. For Arya, both Winterfell AND Jon have been associated with home. She has tried since day one to return to either of them, and to see her do both at the same time would be so lovely. And Jon too, who has struggled for so long with his desire to have Winterfell (feeding his rivalry with Robb and his conflict with his status as a bastard) and Arya (contradicting his position as a member of the Night’s Watch, who have no family), would then get both at the same time. I know GRRM doesn’t like to hand things on a silver platter, and that “Be careful what you wish for” is a massive theme in the series, but come on. You can’t tell me they had it easy, and that they didn’t fight for it.

Now how and when is a little trickier.

Unfortunately, it won’t happen before a loooong time. Arya has a long way to go before leaving Essos, let alone reach Winterfell. She still needs to: 

Tie the story with the FM (including a “training” with the courtesans/the Black Pearl, and of course leaving them);

Deal with the wildlings women and children that are stranded in Braavos now that the Sealord captured the ship (= slavers) that intended to sell them;

As I’ve mentioned before, I very much see the Iron Bank being involved in her storyline, so there’s that to deal with as well;

Meet Dany (I’ll go back to this later);

Go back to Westeros;

Deal with the Riverlands, the Brotherhoods Without Banners and, most importantly, Lady Stoneheart;

Reconnect with Nymeria.

And all that doesn’t even take into account what GRRM could throw in her way on top of all of this. That’s a lot. And since Arya will definitively not see Jon anywhere outside of the North, it could only happen after she resolved all those things.

Jon too has a lot on his plate. He first needs to be resurrected (duh). He also needs to deal with the traitors who stabbed him and his future in the Night’s Watch. If you omit the whole murder thing (kinda hard to tbh), there is still the fact he broke his vows for Arya. He was already set to leave before he died. And since his last thoughts were about Arya, and we know the dead who get resurrected focus on their last conscious thoughts, his resolve to get her back will not be lessened.

Honestly, I think he’s done with the NW. I think he’s gonna do what he intended to before dying, aka kill Ramsay and get “Arya” back, whether by allying with Stannis or at the head of his own wildling army. I don’t know if he’s gonna become King in the North like in GoT, but he’s definitively going to be considered for the role; and since Bran, the legitimate heir, is still alive and will one day return to Winterfell, this could be the catalyst for the tension between these two George planned in his original draft. Not to mention the tensions it would create with the other northern lords, who would not see with a kind eye a bastard allied with the wildlings (enemies of the North for generations) and Stannis; or those who simply won’t appreciate a king not as malleable as a child (side-eye to the Manderlys).

(Oh, and there is also the matter with fArya and Theon. I’m going on a limb here, but I doubt he’s gonna be happy to learn that what he thought was his precious “sister” is really an impostor (though he might be happy to know the real Arya didn’t get what Jeyne had to endure). Or that she’s bringing along the guy who betrayed the Starks and supposedly killed Bran and Rickon. His first reaction definitively won’t be good, though it will probably soften once he learns what happened to them and how Ramsay is the real culprit. But I’m not anticipating much benevolence from him, especially since he’s in dark mode now).

So yeah. Lots of issues to be resolved before they can be reunited, and that’s without counting on the threat of the Others or what other characters might do. Honestly, I’m anticipating a reunion between the end of TWOW and the beginning of ADOS. On one hand, I think it would be more impactful in TWOW; most specifically, the last act of either Jon or Arya’s chapters. It would be a nice conclusion for the both of them, before the Others mess everything up. But I’m also aware that all the issues I’ve previously mentioned might not be resolved in one book, and that it might spill on the second one.

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

Now Dany.

Honestly, it’s kinda hard to be sure of how they’re gonna meet. They will, that’s a certainty. There is so much hints, since the first book really. Remember this?

This time the monsters did not frighten her. They seemed almost old friends. [Arya, IV, AGOT]

Which is exactly how I’m anticipating their relationship. At first, things are going to be tense, especially on Dany’s side who has been fed lies about the Starks and their role in her exile (and who could blame her). So there’s definitively room for Arya to be frightened. But once she gets Dany to see her side to the story, and her vision of the events become more balanced, they’ll become fast-friends. They have so much in common, it’s impossible for them not to.

But, once again, the details of how they’re gonna meet is blurry. Arya will need to at least be done with the FM. And Dany... Dany has a lot on her plate too. She’s gonna need to deal with the khalasar she hears at the end of ADWD, and a possible confrontation (alliance?) with the Dothraki. She will also need to end the plot in Meereen (aka choose between “fixing” its whole culture or do what she always intended to, return to Westeros and seize back the Iron Throne). Of course, we know she’s gonna choose the latter - but a bunch of things can happen between that, and with them time passing.

At this point, Arya and Dany are very far away, each at one extremity of Essos. For them to have a chance to meet, I anticipate that Dany will end things with Meereen at the same time Arya closes the storyline with the FM (maybe even before, so Dany could already be on the road towards Braavos). Now is the tricky part. I have two theories on how they will meet: through the lost Wildlings and through the Iron Bank.

The lost Wildlings

We know the wildlings women and children in Braavos were “freed” when the Sealord seized the ship carrying them. Unfortunately, others were not so lucky.

“I know why the Sealord seized the Goodheart. She was carrying slaves. Hundreds of slaves, women and children, roped together in her hold.” Braavos had been founded by escaped slaves, and the slave trade was forbidden here. “I know where the slaves came from. They were wildlings from Westeros, from a place called Hardhome. An old ruined place, accursed.” Old Nan had told her tales of Hardhome, back at Winterfell when she had still been Arya Stark. “After the big battle where the King-Beyond-the-Wall was killed, the wildlings ran away, and this woods witch said that if they went to Hardhome, ships would come and carry them away to someplace warm. But no ships came, except these two Lyseni pirates, Goodheart and Elephant, that had been driven north by a storm. They dropped anchor off Hardhome to make repairs, and saw the wildlings, but there were thousands and they didn’t have room for all of them, so they said they’d just take the women and the children. The wildlings had nothing to eat, so the men sent out their wives and daughters, but as soon as the ships were out to sea, the Lyseni drove them below and roped them up. They meant to sell them all in Lys. Only then they ran into another storm and the ships were parted. The Goodheart was so damaged her captain had no choice but to put in here, but the Elephant may have made it back to Lys. The Lyseni at Pynto’s think that she’ll return with more ships. The price of slaves is rising, they said, and there are thousands more women and children at Hardhome.” [The Blind Girl, ADWD]

So the Goodheart was too damaged to go to Lys, but the Elephant wasn’t. It means there are still hundreds of wildlings women and children enslaved there. Honestly, I’m not sure how Arya could be involved in freeing them. Lys is a long way from Braavos, which means she would have to travel down there (with no resources and the other half of the wildlings), free them and get back up to sail across the Narrow Sea, deal with the Riverlands and then go North. It’s a little much for one girl, even one as resourceful as Arya. Sure, she could ask help from the Iron Bank (see my second point), but I doubt they would indulge her (high risk for no rewards).

But. You know who is as strongly against slavery as Arya, whose path might make her travel to Lys and who has the resources to fuck shit up? Yep, Dany.

The way I see it is, after being disheartened by Meereen and her failure to change the slaver(y) culture, Dany could very much decide to go home to Westeros - and set everything ablaze in her path. If she failed to abolish slavery from the inside, she might decide to do it by force, as a last FUCK YOU to the masters. This could be the beginning of her rock bottom, before she rises back again. It’s also coherent with the Dothraki culture of “Submit or be killed”, which could play a part if she allies with them again.

So I could see her attacking the big cities of Essos, destroying the masters and freeing the slaves as she goes along, until she reaches Braavos - who may be protected since 1. she would use its port to journey across the Narrow Sea and 2. they’re famously known for being founded by slaves and anti-slavery as a whole (and they actually enforce that rule, not just preach it and close their eyes when it counts). There, she could meet Arya through the wildlings women reuniting. Like I said, things would be tense at first, but if they might not be friends at first, they might respect each other for having their hearts set on the same goal (protecting their people). Friendship would come later, I’m not worried about that.

The Iron Bank theory

For me, the Iron Bank doesn’t get the recognition it deserves as a threat, and I fully anticipate them having a much larger role in the next book.

I really believe they will have a hand in Arya going back to Westeros. After she leaves the FM, I very much see them stepping in to offer their “help” to Arya. Personally, I believe the Kindly Man informed them of her real identity (though his motivations are yet unclear). I believe he’s aware of her value as a princess, and the (supposedly) last heir of the North. Look how people are rallying for her in the North when they hear “Valiant Ned’s precious little girl” is being brutalized. Do you think the Iron Bank is gonna pass on such a prize? I can see them trying to do to her what the Manderlys are doing with Rickon, or what Illyrio tried to do with Dany - offer their protection and help so she would be/feel indebted. They could get ahold of the North through Arya, and of the other Kingdoms through Stannis/the crown’s debt. Not too shabby.

But wait, there is a problem arising. A problem named Daenerys, who fully intends to take back the Iron Throne - and if she does, she’s not gonna care about reimbursing the debt her predecessors/usurpers left, thus lessening their leverage (and with three dragons, a Dothraki army and the Unsullied, threatening her is not gonna fly well). I can see them trying to step in too, promise the same things to her they did to Arya - except she’s not gonna fall for the same ploy like Viserys did with Illyrio.

(Btw, I’m sure Arya too will see right through them - she had a whole training dedicated to make her see beyond appearances, and she’s always been pretty observant (like when she didn’t fall for trap Cersei laid for her, with Lannister soldiers dressed as Stark men in AGOT). But she also don’t have the same resources Dany has, and if she frees the wildlings, she’ll have hundreds of mouths to feed and transport back to Westeros. I can’t see her do that without external help, so she might be playing along til a better opportunity arise.)

Now, both these theories have their flaws. The biggest one, for me, is time. Meereen is not gonna be resolved in a day (unless Dany just sets everything on fire the moment she arrives and takes off into the sunset, but I doubt that). She still needs enough time to travel to Braavos. Even if George takes his sweet time closing the FM storyline, dealing with the wildlings in Braavos and the Iron Bank, it’s not gonna take a million chapters. Unless he throws something in there to delay her departure, something that wasn’t foreshadowed yet? Because I don’t see them meeting first in Westeros. What would be the point of having them on the same continent if they don’t meet there? As always, there’s a lot left hanging in the air.

[plus-size-reader]

A Wedding

Robb Stark x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1387 words

Warnings: Just something I had swarming around in my head. 

Summary: Robb beaming the entire time leading up to your wedding

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Today was the day.

This was the day that you and Robb Stark would be united in matrimony.

As a general rule, Betrothals could be very difficult, as they were more often than not forced upon those who partook. In some ways, you had been forced as well, but in a much better way than most.

You and Robb were lucky.

Your wedding had been planned from the moment you were born, and that made it simpler than if you’d already been grown.

You were raised fully aware, from the time of your birth to this day, that you had already been given away to another. It meant that you never worried all that much about boys or all that immature stuff.

Perhaps some would have been upset, having their choice taken away, but you weren’t. You knew that this was what you were going to do. There was never a choice, and that made it easier.

Thinking about what it could have been, you were glad.

At your age, you were glad that it had worked out this way. Maybe there were times when you thought about how your life could have been different if it was yours alone

...but you tried not to.

After all, you wouldn’t have found the love of your life without it.

The relationship you shared with Robb was a strange one, all things considered. You had never met in person, which in itself was odd for two people that would be married, but that didn’t mean you knew him any less.

You had gotten very familiar with Robb over several years, through the letters.

The two of you had been sending letters back and forth from Winterfell to your small kingdom since you were six or seven years old. Your mother had insisted on it, knowing that if you didn’t establish a connection early, you would be miserable.

Selfishly, she wanted to give you what she’d never had.

Your parents had been affianced at your age, and had always had regrets about that, adn what could have been. Speaking to Robb before your wedding was crucial for her.

So you did.

At this point, you had incurred a large collection of those letters throughout the years, with at least a couple hundred still in your possession to this day. It had been going on for so long, but it was all coming to an end today.

Today was the day that you were going to meet him.

After all this time, you were finally going to meet the man you’d dreamed about for so long and you were feeling a million things all at once as you sat in your carriage.

There were just so many different things that could happen once you arrived there.

You had no idea how he would feel about you, how you would feel about him. There was no way of knowing what he looked like, or what kind of man he was.

All you knew about him was that he was to be your husband, in a matter of a number of hours. The only thing that helped you relax, as wrong as it felt, you knew that no matter what, the wedding was happening.

There was nothing either of you could do.

This pairing affected many more people than just you and Robb alone. All of the people of both your kingdoms were going to be changed forever after such a wedding.

Now on the other hand, in Winterfell, Robb was anxiously awaiting your arrival, having just got out of the wash. He had been dreaming of the day you two would get married since you were children.

...And it was finally here.

He had a huge grin on his face, immediately rushing to collect both Jon and Theon, who he had insisted would take part in the entire process. The two men were his friends and it was important to him that they got to meet you.

Though, he did have to have the privilege of meeting you himself first.

You had no idea what to expect, and you were terrified, frankly, when you finally looked outside to see all of Winterfell with your own two eyes. It was overwhelming, but also the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

Every building was much larger than any in your town, and was covered in a blanket of freshly fallen snow. It was incredible but you didn’t have very much time to think about it before you were approached by a woman.

There was a cold sort of focus on her face, though she wasn’t altogether angry or unpleasant looking. In fact, she was very pretty and you assumed, if she were to smile, it would be beautiful.

“You must be Y/N, I’m Lady Catelyn Stark” she introduced, giving you a small smile to tell you that she wasn’t nearly as aggressive as she seemed, though it fell again rather quickly.

You nodded, telling her that you were who she said and followed her immediately into one of the large buildings you’d approached on your way in.

You assumed, rightfully that Robb would be waiting for you inside and came face to face with him as soon as you entered.

He was most of what you thought he would be, with a strong jaw and kind blue eyes but he was also much more handsome and charming than you could have predicted.

Those sorts of things didn’t really come out in the written word.

“Hello M’Lady. It’s a pleasure to meet you” he started, speaking first as anyone in his position would have.  He gave a gentle bow, bending at his waist as a form of courtesy, but fumbled a bit in his nerves.

After all, this wasn’t just some casual meeting between two people. The consequences of this were far beyond anything either of you could have imagined.

There was going to be a wedding, and it was easy to forget that in the heat of the moment.

“The pleasure is mine, believe me” you grinned, you wanted to follow the proper protocol for this sort of meeting, but you also found yourself just wanting to talk to him as old friends might.

You felt as if you’d known him all your life, but there were certain traditions that had to be followed, even in a situation such as this.

“Mother. Can we please have a moment alone? I would like to talk to my bride in private” Robb commented finally, catching you off guard with how similarly you two must have been thinking.

The only difference was that he was in a position to ask for such a thing. As the heir to this land, he had some say in how today was going to go.

Whereas you, being from a different house and a woman of lower standing than the Stark male, could not.

All you could do was go along for the ride, and that was exactly what you did. You smiled at Catelyn once she nodded, leaving you in the same way she’d come, giving you the space her son had requested.

Once you were alone though, the air in the space changed completely.

“I have been waiting for a very long time to meet you” Robb smiled, those blue eyes shining as he spoke. He had been trying to think of what he’d say to you when the time finally came for you to meet face to face, but now that it was here, they all escaped him.

All he could think about was what was to come.

After today, you would be his wife.

“I do believe everything is taken care of. It should be a very nice feast, if you’re ready for it?” there was a hint of nerves in his voice as he spoke, but you could see it in his face, Robb was excited.

...And you couldn’t help but share in that.

You may not have known eachother all that well yet, but you had the rest of your lives to learn all those little things that every good couple knew about one another.

Though, there had to be a wedding before anything else, and that time had finally come. After years of waiting for this moment, you were going to get married.

[dvsvsgrr]

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[7deadlycinderellas]

if the summer of our lives, ch35

AO3 link

The returns to Winterfell trickle back in slowly.

Daenerys sticks around long enough to recoup her troops from White Harbour. Those who remain are camped outside Winterfell, at their protection. There aren’t many, as many of the dead hordes had come southeast towards White Harbour upon breaking the defensive line at Winterfell.

It’s far too long before they learn that the dead at White Harbour included both Theon and Yara, along with many of the Ironborn.

Robb had given his condolences, barely holding back tears at the loss of his childhood friend. By his side, Arya had quietly asked,

“Do you think he fought bravely?”

Daenerys had been taken aback,

“I can’t say I knew him well,” she starts, mind sorting through her mess of memories, old and new. “But I knew he fought shoulder to shoulder with the others, that he and his sister both looked battle straight in the eye.”

Arya squeezes Robb’s remaining elbow, trying to reassure him. She had never quite come around to Theon the way that Sansa had, but she knows how hard it could be to lose someone who you may have never gotten to tell what they meant to you.

Val has taken to leading hunting parties, in hopes of finding game enough to feed those within the walls still, so she sometimes stays by Robb’s side in her place. It’s sort of working. Arya thinks on Theon, broken down, who gave his life for Bran, given his life again for the north. Another thread of regret, that they hadn’t managed to save him, or to give him his due.

“He will be remembered,” she assures Robb.

“The Iron Islands will be in a difficult spot now,” he muses, then asks, “I don’t suppose there’s been any word from their uncle Euron? Our intelligence told us he had also been aiming to take the islands himself.”

Daenerys had smirked quietly to herself.

“We have not received word. The Islands supported me on this venture, they will support me when I retake the Iron Throne. It would be poor form for me to forget them, it would be even poorer form for them to immediately rebel, and go back to their reaving ways against both my express wishes, and Yara’s command.”

Arya leaves them while they discuss Daenerys going north again to lead the refugees home from Bear Island. In a corner of the Great Hall, she writes out letters to the Vale and the Riverlands, telling them that it is safe for those who have taken shelter to return north.

She stays inside often, because it is quiet, because it allows her to adjust to her unbalanced ears. Outside among the bustle and the rebuilding, she finds herself often fighting the urge to spin, to find the whisper, to chase what seems just out of reach.

At least at night, on a straw mattress in part of the repaired Great Keep, there is peace. Gendry has always been willing to whisper softly to her, whatever words she needed, and no more.

Sleep comes easily for Gendry because during the day he doesn’t stop. Some days he works in the forge, providing nails and tools and such out of what repurposed iron he is able to get his hands on. There’s not enough.

But even when he’s not, there’s carts to push and stone to carry. His muscles are used to their limit, and here, as he sees new growth begin in the scar of Winterfell, he feels his low birth has been put to good use. He’s always worked for his living, and now his work is for the living of others.

Those who remain too, must live for the living of others.

Robb spends his time supervising the rebuilding and sending and receiving riders from several of the other keeps who had held the line, from Hornwood and Torren’s Square and Cerwyn. Hornwood had taken the worst casualties, but that ended up fortuitous. They had food stores still to help feed the other survivors.

Jon helps where he can, often with his hands. He finds another role too. Those within Winterfell have suffered losses as well.

One day, he finds Ygritte in the Godswood with Johnna. The girl is nearly grown now, but still sobbing like a child.

“Wounds took her mother night before last,” Ygritte tells him.

Jon sits beside them carefully.

“Was your sister sent to Bear Island?” he asks the girl.

She nods.

“Then she’s as safe as she could be,” Ygritte insists, “Safe as she could hope for in this world.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to tell her this,” Johnna weeps.

Jon meets Ygritte’s eye, and realizes words aren’t needed right now. Jon knows there isn’t a correct way for a child to have to tell another about the death of a parent. He reaches an arm across Johnna’s back and is quiet, letting her cry.

Her tears were not wasted. Bear Island had fought hard and long. Because most of the refugees there had been women and children, they were ill-equipped for any sort of battle, but especially the one that came towards them across the water.

When Daenerys had come to lead them back, she had found them attempting a funeral pyre for those who had fallen. The water made it difficult to light, but it turned out dragon fire worked fine.

Only the youngest Mormont daughter remains, though bruised and battered, standing among the other survivors.

“We had to do what we could,” she tells, shivering in the cold, “To keep the others safe. I was pinned down at one point, cornered, I would have died if not for Hodor.”

Daenerys turns her gaze and considers the large man behind Lyanna. He looked as though he could have giant’s blood in him, but seemed as shy as a child when he ducked his head to her, with a respectful “Hodor.”

“I saw him hoist her straight onto his shoulders,” Osha tells, leaving out the part that it had happened when one of the dead had her down and was clawing at her gut. Osha’s wounds during the battle were great, but not life-threatening. Despite this, Daenerys doubts she will be able to make the journey back to Winterfell without them becoming life-threatening. “She fought like a beast from her perch, and he somehow still kept both his arms free.”

“It’s probably because of Hodor that we didn’t lose any of the children,” Gilly comments. She’s helping stitch up a nasty cut across Henneh’s forehead. Her and Sam had made it, Henneh too. Nella, Norea and Rhea hadn’t been so lucky.

“Once everyone can gather, I can lead you back to Winterfell,” Daenerys assures them.

“I shall stay here,” Lyanna insists, “This is my home, and some of my people will still need protection here. Tell my sisters- if I still have any- tell them I will hold the island down as well as I can until they return.”

She swallows roughly. She doesn’t want to think that it might just be her.

Osha sits up best she can, one arm bracing as well as she can with the bandages around her middle.

“If you will have me, Little Bear, I think I will stay here.”

Lyanna smiles, softly, with a hint of uncertainty behind her eyes.

“Bear Island is home to some of the greatest fighters in Westeros. I think you have proven yourself more than worthy.”

It’s early the next morning when Daenerys hovers in the sky long enough for the refugees to board their boats and follow her lead.

The day the boats leave Bear Island, Jojen wakes from a vision of it. In the Neck, the rain has continued, swelling the bogs and streams. Some days it is freezing, other days tranquil.

“If they were leaving, with the Dragon Queen’s lead, it must be safe for us to return as well,” Sansa says firmly.

Meera nods,

“I’ll send word for everyone to return here as soon as they can. Once we have everyone, we’ll start for the Kingsroad.”

It’s strange, Sansa thinks, seeing the northern refugees emerging from the swamp, like cats from among the waters and reeds. So out of place, yet having seamlessly blended in.

Eventually, the whole band is back together, though the lost, seeking eyes and mutters continue. Sansa hears many of the men speaking of their visions and sight, and tries not to dwell on it.

She sees Meera hug her father, and assure him that they will be back once everything has worked out. Sansa feels a little piece of her heart break when she remembers this means that Bran will be leaving Winterfell again too.

The rain, however, means that travel north is more difficult than it had been coming south. Bran eventually gives up, and rides on one of the few horses they have, carrying Arra wrapped up in his coat, after having had his cane sink and cause him to slip in the mud one too many times.

“Never thought I’d wish to travel in the snow,” Meera admits, coming up beside Sansa, where she’s walking behind Bran’s horse. “At least snow doesn’t get things soaked through quite as fast.”

“If it’s the fluffy snow at least,” Sansa agrees, “Not the heavy slush we had for a while.”

They walk in silence for a bit, while Meera watches Bran and Arra ride.

“I still can’t believe it sometimes,” she admits, “Sometimes when I’m holding her, I’m like ‘who are you, and why am I being trusted to take care of you?’”

Sansa chuckles.

“The way mother always talked, I think lots of new mothers feel that way.”

Her smile falters.

“I do understand though. This is...way past the point where I feel like I have any sort of handle on anything. Past this, this is the unknown.”

And I’m completely terrified of the unknown, she doesn’t say. Eyes moving to each member of their party individually, she would feel almost ungrateful to speak. They’re all facing an unknown future.

They’ve sped up their walk, and are now alongside the horse.

“It’s strange to think most of us are technically pushing thirty,” Bran comments. Arra’s sleeping, snoring softly against his chest. She’s been easy, too easy sometimes he thinks. She sleeps through the night now and is bright and alert when awake. He doesn’t want to get used to it. He wishes they didn’t have to travel with her so young, Meera especially has been fretting about the swamp air possibly making her sick.

Sansa turns around so she can see where Jojen and Shireen are walking with some of the other refugees. One of them is talking animatedly, and Shireen appears to be hanging on every word.

“And even those of us who aren’t,” she comments, “May have lived more in this life than we could have even dreamed of in the last.”

By the time Winterfell is in sight, the rain has turned again to snow, though it’s lighter, flurries, and some days even are clear.

It’s reassuring, especially when Sansa notices that the skyline of Winterfell has changed. She hears the murmurings among the others in the group as well, of what has become of their home.

Some of the walls are crumbled, black with burns. She can just make out the Broken Tower, or what used to be. It’s name is even more appropriate now.

They don’t even have to call out. The drawbridge is open. People mill around inside and outside the walls, moving stone and other things. Sansa tries not to think that some of those things could be bodies.

When they approach, there is a hush, and several people run off. The group stands at the gates, unsure of themselves, or where they should go.

One of the Free Folk eventually points them to the Great Hall.

“Wounded are there, and the people who can help sort you out.”

With everyone milling around her, Sansa’s not sure who she even expects to greet them. Despite this, her heart lifts when Jon runs out in front, throwing his arms around her.

“We were so worried,” he tells her, hugging Sansa and then Bran, and moving about to try and direct the others to where there are blankets and rations. She watches his eyes bug out a bit at Bran holding Arra, and Sans feels so guilty breaking his joy.

“Who did we lose?” she asks him, turning apprehensive.

“About half of our forces here,” Jon starts, and then pauses, “Benjen. Theon and Yara both, and quite a lot of the Iron Born who supported Daenarys.”

That could be a problem, Sansa thinks, but right now her mind is overwhelmed by grief about Theon.

“And those of us who made it aren’t necessarily in one piece,” Jon continues, though he is interrupted by a burst of noise.

Arya has rushed out to join them, and she is right now standing with Bran and Meera and fussing over baby Arra. She’s picked her up and his holding her over her face, and Sansa can just hear her say in Meera’s direction, ‘you lived my worst nightmare’.

“Arya’s left ear,” Jon continues, “Robb’s left arm. Lots of fingers and toes to frostbite-”

“Jamie Lannister’s right eye,” Arya interjects. She hugs Sansa so hard she nearly topples. “Make sure to talk into my right ear,” and Sansa doesn’t even get a moment to mourn for her.

Both Arya and Jon hold still for a moment, before quietly telling Sansa and Bran.

“Father’s alive, but he’s in bad shape. Maester Luwin’s not sure how long he has.”

Sansa’s stomach sinks, but not as far as it perhaps should. She puts on her face,

“Lets go see him then.”

As the group that has formed follows Jon, Bran asks,

“Has the group from Bear Island made it back yet?”

“Just a day before you,” Jon confirms, not needing to bother asking how he knew, “Daenarys has left again.”

“Where is she headed now?”

“To hopefully pull off a really stupid plan to make everyone in the South listen when she goes to take the throne.”

Sansa feels alarm bells go off in her mind, but doesn’t dwell.

The Great Hall is again being used for meals, and for directing and organizing. One part is still partitioned off, however, for Maester Luwin to help the remaining wounded, as best he can.

Seeing Ned in his weakened state is harder than Sansa could have expected though. His chest is bound with bandages under his shirt, and sometimes he stills, and breathes deep, as though the very smallest movements pain him. Jon leaves her and Bran alone to talk to him, and they sit on either of his sides, while he tries to look over reports of the supplies they still have.

Bran gently passes over Arra, with a sheepish smile, a faint blush, and,

“Meet your first grandchild.”

Sansa spares a smirk.

“I think I should feel slighted that I didn’t even hear word of your marriage,” Ned tells him, and Sansa sees Bran blush.

“It wasn’t exactly the best time.”

Ned marvels all the same. After a few moments, Bran continues.

“Have we sent ravens to Riverrun and everywhere else refugees were sent?”

Ned voice turns grave.

“Yes, but I fear them returning so soon. My numbers here say we should have sufficient rations, especially if spring is truly coming. But I don’t know if we can provide shelter for everyone, and I can’t even fathom how many years it will take for repairs to complete. We’ve lost so many men and horses, and I don’t know how we can get more raw materials…”

“We’ll have to get to work then,” Sansa insists, taking some of the papers and beginning to look them over, “We’ll start organizing who among the other noble houses remain, and have them begin returning and reopening their keeps-”

Her words are interrupted by Bran’s hand on her shoulder.

“Not tonight, Sansa,” he insists, “Lets eat, and rest. There will still be work in the morning.”

Ned agrees, vehemently. Then he begins to cough, and Maester Luwin, who had previously been remaining away for their privacy, comes in to tend to him.

There are no resources for a feast, of course, but that evening, everyone gathers around one of the blankets in the Great Hall, and share rations and stories.

Lots of people come around to see the baby, it having been so long since any of them have seen one, and Sansa counts down faces. When Arya takes a second turn, she passes her to a somewhat terrified looking Gendry. Gilly, and one of her sisters, the little one, come by with Sam to meet her too. Only one sister, Sansa notes. Shireen and Jojen get up to join them when they move on to sit with the other children who have returned from Bear Island. Hodor sneaks up behind the group, and lifts up Bran in a great hug. Robb and Val eventually make their way over, and Sansa tries not to smirk too heavily at Robb’s teasing. It helps distract her from wincing whenever she sees where his arm should be.

She sees Gendry needling Meera about something, that results in her swatting him. She sees Shireen sneak off from the hall and then return.

“I wanted to return the book I took,” she confesses, “At least much of the library is intact. It would be a shame for so much knowledge to be lost.”

The first part of her thought seems almost childish, but Sansa understands, and the last part troubles her.

“I wonder if anyone will remember the truth of what happened here?”

“That’s one of the reasons I want to write everything down so bad. I wish doing so didn’t just mean it might languish on a shelf somewhere at the Citadel...if I’m lucky enough to get it there...but the more we do, the more people we tell the truth, the better it will be, the less likely the story will die out.”

Sansa’s smile turns grim.

“I used to put far too much stock in stories. Too often I discovered they were so far from reality they might as well not be considered true at all. “

“That’s why you write them,” Shireen insists, “Write them, instead of letting them spread by word. This is one of the reasons I think the world would be so much better if more people could read and write.”

It’s a lovely thought, Sansa thinks, though admittedly it’s a hard one to imagine being implemented.

Across from her, Ygritte quietly rocks Arra, while Arya listens as Jon explains to her what Daenarys’s current plan is.

“She wants to hunt down and catch one of the remaining wights. She thinks that if she can bring it with he to King’s Landing, then Tywin and Joffrey will pay more attention to her and her stories.”

Arya snorts, loudly. Sansa covers her face in her hands.

“Please tell me I didn’t come up with this same plan before?” Jon asks, rolling his eyes while Ygritte snickers by his side.

Sansa shakes her head, a sardonic smile rising on her face.

“Wasn’t your plan before, at least,” she says, her heart twisting at the memory of when she had been told exactly who’s plan that was. It was a stupid, near suicidal plan then. At least now it seems to just be stupid.

Ygritte leaves first, as she’s on the first watch of the night. Arya and Gendry depart to where they’ve been sleeping, and Jon leads the rest of them to where sleeping quarters have been set up, in the Great Keep.

“Most of your old rooms are still here,” he tells, “But we’ve had to adjust to having so many more people. Parts of the guest house was destroyed, and we have to keep some who are still wounded on the ground floors.”

Sansa thinks sleep, any sleep, on a straw mattress or a featherbed either, sounds divine now. And he’s not wrong, there are people sleeping everywhere, separated by hanging sheets if they’re lucky.

Sleep doesn’t come easy though. Even in the comfortable bed, Sansa finds herself tossing and turning throughout the night.

At dawn, she gets up, and puts on her boots and a heavy cloak over her nightdress, and wanders a bit. She watches the late night watch coming in, and the early morning workers moving in the same circles she is, in the pale blue frozen air.

On one of the archer’s perches, she finds Bran by himself.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks. She nods.

“Meera’s still out like a light. I don’t think either of us expected anyone here to be so taken by having a baby around.”

“New life,” Sansa muses, “After they’ve seen nothing but death for near on a year. You’ll never hurt for a child minder,” Sansa agrees. She quiets a bit, contemplating the sunrise.

“So what are you up here for?” she asks.

“I’m calling all my ravens home,” is Bran’s response. Sansa nods

“I suppose you don’t really need them patrolling the land anymore.”

“I’d like to send one or two to Riverrun, to assure Mother and the others that it’s safe. The rest I want to call home.”

Home, Sansa thinks. They still call Winterfell home, even she doesn’t think it will remain for many of them.

[writingthrones]

the northern dragon.

A PROLOGUE. 

DESCRIPTION: the world thought that just 2 dragons survived, that house targaryen was missing its third head. but there was another-- the youngest, the final child of the mad king and queen rhaella. of course, she was almost part of the near extermination of her house. but the honorable ned stark, unable to watch a babe be murdered for crimes she did not commit, rescued her from an awful fate. instead, she grew up amongst wolves within the walls of winterfell.

NOTES: of course, this will include many changes to the events of GOT, though only the show. i have pulled some knowledge from the books, but this story will be based on the events of the show. i’ve come up with a lot for this story, so you’re in store for multiple parts. i still haven’t come up with an end, so i’m not sure how many it’ll be. i’d also like to add that i am totally up for suggestions. obviously, this is a story i came up with totally on my own so if there’s anything you would like to see, feel free to shoot me a message. i can’t guarantee it’ll be added but i will consider every request i get! constructive criticism is also welcome.

oh and italics = flashback. 

Your childhood was good-- much better than most who were born lowborn. It was unfortunate how fixed everything was, one’s status in society was decided at birth and moving up was nearly impossible. Lowborn were only allowed to wed lowborn, only allowed to occupy jobs deemed worthy of their status. But you-- you were lucky-- a lowborn girl rescued by the Warden of The North. Your entire village had been slaughtered in Robert’s Rebellion, caught in the crossfire. Ned found you clinging to your dying mother. Staring down at an innocent child, a victim to the absolute worst luck, he couldn’t just walk away. So he scooped you up and when everything was over, you were brought back to Winterfell.

It was rocky, to say the least, your first few days there. When Lord Stark returned to his castle with two children-- claiming just one as his bastard and another as an unfortunate orphan, Lady Catelyn was rightfully devastated. As if she was to believe that just one was a bastard. But after those few days, things shifted. She was still noticeably upset, but considerably less so than before. It was a peculiar sight to those around, though quickly forgotten. Things eventually returned to normal-- if one thing was sure, Ned and Catelyn Stark had a love that was unbreakable. The pair went on to have many children.  Of course, you don’t remember any of that.

So, things were good. You couldn’t be treated like a member of the house, but the Starks considered you like family none the less. Because you were lowborn, you were to perform domestic duties around the castle. In your free time, though, you were allowed to play with the other children. You and Arya got along well, both of you were rough around the edges. Then there was you and Jon, the two of you being able to bond over the fact that you weren’t an official member of the family. There was Theon, too, though you never got too close to him. It was the same deal with Robb, even if you tried. Sansa had gotten you into fashion, occasionally bringing you dresses she’d been able to make. Despite the previously mentioned “rough around the edges” thing, you did like to look pretty sometimes.

There was one problem with that, though. For as long as you could remember, you’d been forced to wear a cover similar to that of a septa. Sansa made some for you that were prettier but it didn’t help much. The rumors were that you had some horrible condition that caused you to go bald and to save you the embarrassment, Lady Catelyn arranged this. In fact, she was the one to put it together each day. At a certain point, she’d taught you how, though.

And that certain point was your 10th nameday. That was the day everything changed. Early that morning, Lord and Lady Stark entered your chambers before everyone in the castle began to wake. That morning was when everything changed for you.

“Y/N, there is a talk we must have with you now,” Catelyn said in a soft voice as she sat on the edge of your bed. You were still groggy, yawning before murmuring as “Yes, Lady Stark?” you replied. She always told you to call her Lady Catelyn, as it sounded less formal, but you were so sleepy you couldn’t remember. As you became more awake, though, your heart began to race. What could this talk possibly be? Why was it so early in the morning? What was it that no one else could hear? They had always treated you like family, but somehow you wondered if they were telling you that you needed to leave. You began to visibly shake.

Ned took note-- seating himself next to Catelyn and resting a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. But how could you not? Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself for whatever news they were bringing you. It was nothing you could’ve ever expected. You were the last daughter of the Mad King, princess Visenya of the nearly extinct House Targaryen. The shaking had only gotten worse. They explained to you that the wrap you wore on your head was to conceal the silver hair that fell down your back. They couldn’t bring themselves to be so cruel and have you actually shaved bald. Besides, that would expose your identity to yet another person. Ned and Cat alone were certainly enough. Your eyes, though purple, were a deep enough shade for Ned to insist they were blue. Though, it’s not like anyone was inspecting.

From that day forth, you had to live with that on your shoulders. For a while after, you felt on edge nearly all the time. The feeling subsided eventually. When you sat for lessons with the Maester, though, and learned of your house.. you felt heartache. You felt heartache for the things they’d done but also the family you’d lost. They couldn’t have been all bad, right? You had to remind yourself to let go of that hurt, though. The Starks were your family.. or at least the closest thing you’d ever get to family. 

The years came and went and it became easier to handle your identity. You had to just.. forget about it. It didn’t matter because you’d never be able to reveal it or you’d surely be killed by the king or any of the other various enemies of House Targaryen.

It was vain, but one of the hard parts of concealing who you were was the head wrap you were forced to wear. When you were alone in your chambers, you could sit and brush your beautiful silver hair. It truly did transform you once you let it free and yet no one would ever be able to see it. It got worse as you got older and grew into a woman. The boys had gotten older and girls became more appealing.. so when a young woman like you was forced to dress like some old hag, it caused plenty of snickers. It hurt. Jon was the least likely to participate in the whispered teasing but there was occasions you could swear he was joining in. Theon was the most shameless and it was no wonder considering the way he shamelessly objectified other women. Robb typically went along with it. You had to remember that, hey, at least you were alive but it just couldn’t erase your feelings.

Things changed when Lord Stark left for the capital with Sansa and Arya-- not only that, but Jon left for the Wall. Lady Stark fell apart when Bran was injured. Rickon was young and you found yourself trying to keep him occupied while his mother tended to Bran. Finally, you were left with only Robb and Theon for some real company, as the two were almost your same age. You had your moments but honestly, you felt quite alone.

FINAL NOTES: i hope you guys liked it! i’m still figuring out how exactly i want to write this story. there might be points where i need to go into the 3rd person in order to show other events going on but i will try to keep most things from the reader point of view.

[thelawyerthatwaspromised]

Hi! I'm a jonerys shipper but I find your theories very interesting. I wonder though, how will you feel about the show/Asoiaf if Political!Jon is debunked with season 8? Do you think it will change your opinion on Jon? And will you still ship Jonsa if he truly bent the knee because he is in love with Dany? I suppose I'm wondering how a post S8 Jonsa faction will look.

Hello! I really appreciate the question because it’s not a bad one: what if political!Jon isn’t a thing? First, I guess I’ll explain what I think has to be true for political!Jon to not be true.

Jon has to have total faith in Dany’s ruling ability; not just her capacity as a conqueror. Jon has to have thought it was acceptable to give away the Stark ancestral home without consulting anyone about it. Jon has to have actually been unable to lie to Cersei at the Dragonpit. Jon has to actually believe that the stuff he warned Dany about earlier in the season (about northerners not wanting to follow a southern ruler) is either not true anymore - or - at least not as important as the urgency to give away his crown before he could even talk to them about it.

All of these have terrible, terrible implications on Jon’s character.

Because it will mean a number of things…

1) It would mean that Jon really didn’t learn anything from Robb and Ned and their respective downfalls. That’s tragic in itself. When it comes to Robb, sure he made mistakes that cost him his life - but he was also way too young and thrust into a position he should never have been forced to undertake. The same is somewhat true for Jon, except he’s now been in leadership and he knows his family’s mistakes. 

I don’t want “aww shucks” stupid heroes. I don’t enjoy that type of storytelling. I don’t think it’s something I can suspend my disbelief while I’m watching if I actively think “he is a complete and total idiot” and he’s supposed to be un-ironically a hero of the story. Beyond that, I think that’s the opposite of the point of Jon’s arc, most especially in the books but also on the show. 

Robb and Ned are there to be cautionary tales for good people who are struggling with the intricacies of dangerous political games. Jon being as dopey as not learning anything from their decisions cheapens Robb’s story, it cheapens Ned’s story, and it makes Jon simply a lucky idiot if he somehow survives.

Jon is also taking a gigantic risk throwing all his eggs in Dany’s basket even if he thinks she’s the most wonderful person. He has no idea what she’s like as a ruler. He didn’t know anything about her other than she’s come to Westeros and has three dragons. He doesn’t know anything about her tenure in Essos - or that it concluded with her very responsibly have Daario Naharis overlooking the biggest political transition in thousands of years over there. No big deal.

In the best case scenario, Jon would have been detained on the island, been “asked” to bend the knee to Dany on multiple occasions, and agreed to go on a mission that he otherwise wouldn’t have gone on (since he asked Dany multiple times to come North without regard to Cersei’s intentions) and almost died on that mission only to have seen Dany take another big risk by flying her dragons up North to try to save him.

That’s not even close to enough information for Jon to know whether Dany is in any way a good ruler. Flying dragons and ruling are two different things. He took a huge gamble whether it’s political!Jon or not; but at least with political!Jon it was because he felt he HAD to do it to ensure her commitment. The alternative is Jon handing that over without any clue as to whether she can do the mundane things like administer land dispute decisions or responsibly manage the treasuries of Westeros. 

2)  It would mean that Jon governs and makes decisions based solely on his own emotional impulses which would really suck. It’s practically inexcusable for Jon to behave this way. It’s irresponsible as a ruler for him to just hand Dany power like he did at face value without talking to anyone from the North about it first. You could have made an argument to me that Jon could legitimately think Dany should rule the North and it might be a plausible explanation without making Jon a terrible rule IF Jon had actually waited until he returned North to tell the lords in person that he planned to give away the crown for her.

By not doing so, it tells me that either Jon is inconsiderate and impulsive enough to give away something as sacred as an entire country (on the macro) and his childhood home (on the micro level) - OR - there’s something else in play for why he felt it absolutely necessary to “bend the knee” with the timing as it occurred. If there’s some 3rd explanation that I haven’t thought of - I’d actually be willing to read it first before I decided whether it’s an idea willing to entertain.

I don’t talk politics thaaaat much on here, but the analogy really would be that, after being elected, Donald Trump literally believed he had the authority and moral high ground to hand his presidency over to Putin. Not only would everyone hate him, but he literally does not have the authority to act like that and would be removed from his position before it happened.

[to be clear Jon =/= Trump and Dany =/= Putin. It’s an analogy on political leaders behaving in another context. If you want, you can imagine the PM of Canada and the the King of Wakanda as substitutes behaving the same way.]

By going solo in that process - Jon almost guaranteed at the very least a gigantic amount of political turmoil in the North…but it’s something I think he’s aware of and has anticipated. If he hasn’t - he has no business ruling anything ever. 

There is no reasonable explanation for the timing of Jon bending the knee (before consulting with anyone in the North let alone his very own travel companion Davos) other than political!Jon and realizing the exact moment was right because Dany had just promised to help fight the Night King and Jon wanted to cement her commitment as much as he could.

3) It would mean that Jon genuinely valued everyone knowing openly that he planned to fight Cersei in the war after the Night King over actually getting the truce to allow them to fight the NK. If Jon did what he did at the Dragonpit - then he proved himself a liar when he said just before that “there is only one war that matters” because he immediately (again, in the absence of political!Jon) affirmed his position in the war for the Iron Throne at the expense of the war to save the Realm. 

Beyond the silliness of the idea that Jon Snow is incapable of lying to Cersei - it really is highlighted perfectly in Jon’s scene with Theon:

“You risked everything just to tell an enemy the truth.”

I mean…is telling the truth generally good? Yes.

Is telling the truth still good if….

SCENARIO: Bad Guy has their finger on the button to launch a nuclear weapon on a Sunday and they say, “oh wait, these nuclear codes were only good until Sunday and now it’s after midnight so it’s Monday!” 

Bad Guy is momentarily confused. “Or is it still Sunday? Say! You, Honest Fellow! If it’s really after 12:00 AM, I’ll have to leave here and try to grab more launch codes, is it really after midnight? I don’t have my watch.”

Honest Fellow: “I’d like to tell you it’s 12:04….but alas, I cannot. It is 11:58-…”

*KABOOM*

Well…you’d rightfully be displeased with Honest Fellow. But, then again, I think Jon Snow would hate this honest fellow as well. How stupid is that if it’s the same story we heard at face value? 

“I just can’t lie!” 

That’s irredeemably stupid. It KNOWINGLY put everyone at risk and actually is LUCKY that Cersei planned all along to accept a truce so she could have time to replenish her forces with the Golden Company. 

I’d recommend that the Honest Fellow version of Jon Snow climb up that 700 foot Wall he’s supposedly been working so hard to protect and fling himself off. They could call it Lord Commander’s Landing.

4) It would completely upend the part of Jon’s story where he has yearned to truly be a part of House Stark, his residual guilt about not being there to help Robb when the fighting began, and his close relationship with Sansa after their reunion. 

I could say plenty of shippy things about how the absence of political!Jon would completely ruin the relationship with Sansa that Jon’s built since they reunited but I don’t even have to go there. Simply as a close companion and trusted adviser and family member, Jon would have spat right in her face.

People seem to misinterpret Jon feeling like an outsider with the rest of the Starks with Jon never feeling welcome and never wanting to be a member of House Stark. The exact opposite is true. Jon’s detachment was due specifically to his wanting very much to be Jon Stark but feeling like it was an impossibility because of his birth. Jon loved the Starks. He wanted to be known as Ned’s son. He craved acceptance from Catelyn but never received it. It’s caused him to feel unworthy of that. 

When they found the direwolf pups, Jon wanted each Stark to have a wolf first. It was essentially a gift of the gods that Jon “heard” Ghost (who is famously silent) after his noble self-denial in favor of the trueborn Starks. 

Immediately after winning the BotB, Jon makes sure Sansa takes up residence in the Lord’s chambers. He didn’t do that because he doesn’t care. He cares very deeply. He wanted Sansa to know that she is House Stark’s true representative. He doesn’t feel like he deserves that, hence the sadness in his voice as he says “I’m not a Stark.” He reiterates that Sansa is the Lady of Winterfell. Being the Lord or Lady (as opposed to “acting” Lord or Lady) means that Sansa has hereditary rights over Winterfell - something they both fought like hell to re-take.

Now I’m supposed to believe that the guy who didn’t even want a simple puppy before the other Starks, who fought like hell to re-take Winterfell, who tried to desert the Night’s Watch once and arguably did a second time to fight for the Starks, who very intentionally placed Sansa as the head of House Stark rather than himself, who then passed to her specifically ruling authority over the North while he was away - THAT GUY - is now supposed to think it’s fine and necessary and RIGHT to give ruling authority and his crown over to a woman before she ever even stepped foot in the North.  (The Gift, which is the territory along the Wall is owned by the Night’s Watch independent of the North. Even if you count the top of Eastwatch as Dany stepping foot up there, she’s still not in the political North)

All of this, too, without ever talking to a single person about the decision beforehand. 

That’s a Jon Snow I cannot root for or reconcile with the rest of his story. In my mind, it’s character assassination.

It would make me wonder what the point was of Jon Snow even coming back from the dead.

Thank you for the ask. Hope this answers your question sufficiently. You’re welcome to ask more anytime. 

[silkygoldmilkweed]

I am yours and you are mine

OK. So. The episode of Game of Thrones that follows the fabulous weird intimate-as-fuck emo melodrama of “Blackwater” is “Valar Morghulis.” And in this episode, which follows the epic SanSan intimacy of “I’ll keep you safe. Do you want to go home? etc etc” there are not one, not two, but three couples basically making commitments and pledging to each other.

I THINK THE SHOW IS TELLING US SOMETHING ABOUT SANSAN AND MARRIAGE GENERALLY THROUGH THESE COUPLES ALL OF WHOM ARE DOOOOOOOOOMED in different ways. (Five of the six people involved have since been murdered.)

I’ll circle back to the couples in a minute, but first I must quote problematic Cat Stark from this ep, because I think if there is a message here, rather than some broken models of what not to do, she’s the one delivering it.

Cat to Robb about his feelings for Talisa and their agreement with the Freys: 

“Your father didn’t love me when we married. He hardly knew me. Or I him. Love didn’t just happen to us. We built it slowly. Stone by stone, over the years. For you, your brothers and sisters, for all of us. It’s not as exciting as secret passion in the woods, but it is stronger. It lasts longer... You agreed to it. Treat your oaths recklessly and your people will do the same. If your father lived his life for one thing...”

(1) I gotta appreciate the “over the years” in this because god knows that SanSan has been years in the making. 

They’ve been completely apart for many of those years, but dear god the personal growth! She’s a wolf now; he’s no longer an emotionally crippled thug with a serious drinking problem.

If they are cosmically linked soulmates who have been bound by some inexplicable tie for a long time, they have used the intervening years relatively well. Sansa learned how to survive and make her own justice, and Sandor built a very strong relationship with the only other surviving true-born Stark (by my account Bran is dead) and went to rehab and therapy, etc.

Mistakes were made, to be sure, but they are both better, healthier and stronger people after the fact.

Source: http://devilsbastion.tumblr.com/image/168855312743

(2) “It’s not as exciting as secret passion in the woods, but it is stronger. It lasts longer.” 

This line makes me feel like the writers have read all the Blackwater AUs where Sansa and Sandor run off together and despite best-laid plans end up fucking inside a month. In fanfic they usually end up happily ever after (usually), but in George’s world, Sansa probably ends up married to a Frey, Sandor ends up dying at the hand of god knows who, and without the Hound, Arya ends up raped and dead in a ditch and certainly not the killer she is today.

(Of course, Robb and Talisa do go the forbidden love route and we all know how that turns out.)

(3) “You agreed to it. Treat your oaths recklessly and your people will do the same. If your father lived his life for one thing...” 

I will say this: Sansa tried valiantly to keep her promises and the promises her family made. She agreed to marry Joffrey, arranged thought it was, and she keeps to that agreement.

In the same episode, Theon is whining: “Yes my captors were so very kind to me...Do you know what it’s like to be told how lucky you are to be someone’s prisoner?” but at this point in the story, Sansa is being held prisoner by awful people and being beaten and stripped and threatened with rape at every turn.  So Theon can just shut up. 

And in re Robb, Sansa was bound to marry a much worse prospective spouse than a Frey girl, and yet she stuck with it, even if out of sheer cluelessness. She was offered a “get out of jail free” card by Sandor Clegane, and she refused it. 

As horrible as it is, and as patriarchal and un-woke, Westeros custom says that Sansa was Joffrey’s—to torment or treat any way he saw fit. And, for better or worse, Sansa and Sandor have both internalized the patriarchy in a way that Arya never does.

In season four, Arya asks the Hound, “Didn’t you steal anything from Joffrey before you left?” He says no, he’s not a thief, and then says “a man’s got to have a code.” 

Arya’s talking about gold or other treasure but in the same conversation he calls Arya “the only thing of value I’ve got in the world,” which tells us as clear as day what really matters to him—even though he wants us and Arya to believe the issue is her exchange value in gold.

Sansa is the only thing Sandor wanted to steal, but she belonged to the king and if she didn’t want to go of her own volition—if she didn’t think she needed to be rescued—he wasn’t going to abduct her. 

He probably should have, for her sake, but I suspect he was too hurt when she turned him down to face her fighting him and being disappointed and teary. Sansa’s recrimination and distress was not something he was equipped to cope with at that point. Now Arya he could manhandle, but Sansa, for reasons (SEX REASONS PEOPLE), he could not, would not and did not.

ANYWAY MARRIAGE

He cloaked her in the throne room. She accepted the cloak. 

Did it mean something to them? Did it mean something to the gods? 

We have no idea. It has never been addressed.

But...the line in the Westerosi marriage vows is “You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.” And within weeks he’s saving her from being gang raped (and he’s secretly pretty fucking pleased with himself), and he risks beheading (or much much worse) by attempting to smuggle away Tywin’s prize hostage and get her through the entire war-torn country to Winterfell. 

If that’s not protection, I don’t know what is.

Tyrion’s speech at the Blackwater (after the Hound has already deserted) about defending Your City rings false for the Hound because he literally cares only about one thing in the whole place (maybe two if you count Stranger). Hound figures why not take the girl out of the city rather than trying to save the whole shit city to protect her?

But it doesn’t work, and Sansa and Sandor break up.

Next episode. Sandor does not appear. Sansa does. And three separate couples—all doomed in different ways—make promises.

MARRIAGE PLEDGE #1: JOFFREY BARATHEON TO MARGERY TYRELL

Joffrey: “It would be an honor to return your love. But I am promised to another. A king must keep his word...I took a holy vow.”

Pycelle: “The gods do indeed hold betrothal solemn.”

Joff: “The gods are good. I am free to heed my heart...you will be my queen, and I will love you from this day until my last day.”

OK so mostly this is foreshadowing for Robb getting whacked and Joffrey getting poisoned at his wedding. But it’s also amazing extra-level bullshit. Every single person in the scene is lying through his or her teeth and putting on a show for the court, except for Sansa who is genuinely delighted to be relieved of Joffrey. 

Well, the situation also thrills Littlefinger who pounces on her literally moments after Joff sets her aside. If the Hound had waited maybe one more day he and Sansa would have been so much freer to figure themselves out together--but then it wouldn’t be a heartbreaking romantic separation would it?

But there are a couple of lines I want to highlight as possibly important for SanSan.

“The gods do indeed hold betrothal solemn.”

What if this is true on some level and the gods have considered SanSan to be pledged to one another in some spiritual way? Could the gods actually have been intervening in their favor in some way? Probably not but...maybe.

“I am free to heed my heart.”

So so so few people in Westeros are free to heed their hearts. That’s why the freefolk call themselves that—they aren’t bound by the feudal system and the arranged marriages and the taxes and high-maintenance castles and all that. 

But come season eight, guess who is free as hell to heed her heart? Sansa Stark. She’s even finally rid of Littlefinger. Nobody except maybe Jon Snow can tell her what to do, and I feel strongly that he DGAF who she marries so long as he’s a good man. 

MARRIAGE PLEDGE #2: SHAE DA FUNNY HOAR TO TYRION LANNISTER

Tyrion: “I’m a monster, as well as a dwarf. You should charge me double.”

Shae: “You think I’m here for money?”

Tyrion: “That was the arrangement we made. I pay you and you lie to me.”

Shae: “You have a shit memory. I am yours and you are mine.”

I don’t understand these two. I think Tyrion did love her, but “I pay you and you lie to me” was the truth of it. Their relationship was built on a shaky foundation of business and lies.

In the end she testified at his trial for capital crimes and he strangled her to death. So...as the Hound said to Tyrion in the series premiere, “It’s not hunting if you pay for it.”

You can buy a wife with an army or gold, or you can buy the girlfriend experience from a prostitute, but you can’t buy a healthy, happy and loving marriage, not for any price.

I am a crazy person, admittedly, but I think George’s endgame is two well-deserved happy marriages: Jon & Dany, and Sansa & Sandor. (I wouldn’t mind Brienne & Jaime, Missandei & Grey Worm, and Sam & Gilly also living happily ever after but WE WILL SEE.)

MARRIAGE PLEDGE #3: ROBB STARK AND TALISA MAEGYR

Secret love in the woods!

The theme to this scene is “I Am Yours and You Are Mine,” a lushly romantic love theme by Ramin Djawdi. These are good people, and they are madly in love, and they are doomed as fuck.

As a wise man once said, “What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms...or the memory of a brother’s smile?”

I wish I could tell you that the series is consistent about punishing oathbreakers, but I can’t. The best I can offer is that the story does seem to treat marriage (and the children of marriage, i.e. trueborns versus bastards) as a special and very important kind of oath. 

The camera focuses on Lady Oleanna Tyrell at Joffrey and Marge’s wedding just as the High Septon says, “...one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.” And of course, House Tyrell is eventually exterminated. 

George, if not the gods, does seem to value fidelity in marriage and not running around “stabbing” girls you don’t plan to marry. Ned Stark is a saint who never cheated. Cersei and Bobby are both unfaithful, but Cersei went a step further and aborted all of her trueborns and cuckholded Bobby with Jaime’s bastards. Stannis is a cheater. Renly is a cheater--he’s married to Marge but sexes up Loras. Rhaegar was a bigamist maybe--timeline unclear but undoubtably problematic. Ramsay Snow was fucking Myranda while married to Sansa. Theon is a jackass for whoring and banging captain’s daughters whereas Jon Snow doesn’t want to make bastards on Ros. Daario wants to come to Westeros as Dany’s fuckboi even if she’s going to marry someone else but Dany is all “hard pass” because Dany ain’t like that. Brandon Stark (Ned’s murdered brother) was a bit of a fuckboi. Littlefinger gets married and murders his wife within the space of a...day? No bueno!

Tyrion gives Shae a heartbreaking speech when he’s breaking up with her for her own safety about “you are not fit to bear my children, and Sansa is.” Bastards! So much talk about legitimacy or not and what that equips you for, or not, in Westeros. Blah blah thousand-year dynasty.

These are not always our contemporary morals, at least in popular media, but they do seem pretty solidly founded in Westeros: 

Marriage matters. Fidelity matters. 

I do think it is important that we never ever see Sandor interact with other women on the show besides Sansa and Arya (and the farmer’s daughter Sally). 

Not Cersei. Not Myrcella. Not Melisandre. Not whores. He isn’t even shown talking to Dany after she saves him on Drogon. Sansa is his woman. Period. 

Sansa takes marriage very seriously, but she is never in a position to choose her husband or control the circumstances of her marriage. Marriage to Sansa is suggested or arranged, canonically, to Joffrey Baratheon, Tyrion Lannister, Littlefinger, Robin Arryn and Ramsay Snow, and that’s not even including all the fan-made pairings like Sansa-Marge, Sansa-Tywin, Sansa-Stannis, Sansa-Edd, Sansa-Jon, Sansa-Pod, Sansa-Bronn, etc. 

Tyrion is by far the best of the lot of Sansa’s canonical consorts, a list that includes two psychopaths, one sociopath and one disabled child. 

By Ned Stark’s standard of “brave, gentle and strong,” again, Tyrion might qualify as brave and gentle, but the other four fail to have even one of those qualities. Ugh. Sandor is all three, to my mind, although the show de-emphasizes “gentle” in favor of sassy, but we all know that he’s a very different kind of brute from Joffrey or Ramsay.

Three more tidbits and then shutting up. 

** The episode ends with Dany’s vision in the House of the Undying. Drogo says: “Or maybe it is a dream. My dream, your dream. I do not know. These are questions for wise men with skinny arms. You are the moon of my life and if this is a dream, I will kill the man who tries to wake me.”

If Sansa’s dreams are as important as I think they will turn out to be, this line may feel more evocative of SanSan in the future. I mean, LOL, “These are questions for wise men with skinny arms” is a total Sandor POV thing to say, although Sandor does have a rough-hewn wisdom of his own.

** The next episode is the season three premiere, “Valar Dohaeris (All Men Must Serve)” and in that we get:

Littlefinger telling Sansa that “stealing you is treason”

Sansa telling Shae that it’s better to use your imagination and dream than think about the truth, because “the truth is always terrible or boring.”

Ros telling Shae that Sansa is a very important person and reminding us of her connection to Winterfell

And Marge telling little kids that knights “protect the weak and uphold the good”

** And then finally, in the second episode of season three, Sandor reappears and it’s clear that he’s been drunk non-stop since he left Sansa behind. He gets captured while unconscious and when he comes to, the first thing he sees is Arya (he recognizes her instantly) and the first words of out his mouth are “What in seven hells are you doing with the Stark bitch?” It’s clear to me that he determines on the spot to watch over her. He has not been granted the status of protector of Sansa, but Arya is fair game.

Was it divine justice or the hand of the gods, putting Sandor together with his wife’s little sister who needs to be protected? We shall see. We shall see.

“In winter, we must protect ourselves.” “When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.” “I miss him.” “Me too.”

[steves--starsandstripes]

Colors

Pairings: Robb Stark x Fem!Reader

Summary: Colors highlight significant points in your relationship with Robb

Warnings: None. PS: (Y/F/N) = your father’s name

Word Count: 2,085

Author’s Note: So I’ve seen some people do imagines where they do one significant color and how it has been a part of a ship’s relationship over its duration. But I didn’t want to just do one color, so I thought I would do several colors and their significance. Ps, sorry if the timing of winters/summers is off cuz idk when the seasons were/how long they lasted in the past. Also, I made up a holiday because lol I needed one for the feast.

***Gifs are not mine***

White. White was all you could see for miles as you and your father rode to Winterfell. It was your first time seeing snow, as you had been born during the summer. Plus, your home was hundreds of miles from the Stark keep.

Your father and Lord Eddard had fought together during Robert’s rebellion. Unbeknownst to your parents, they had conceived you right before your father left to fight. By the time your mother knew, he had been gone for weeks. Safe to say, your father was overjoyed (although very surprised) when he came home to find his first child, a beautiful baby girl, had been born.

At the time you and your father visited Winterfell, you were seven years old. Whispers of a betrothal had been exchanged, but both parties wanted to give you two a chance to meet before any plans were made. You knew you were to be gracious and ladylike as you had been raised. But for the time, you just stared at the snow in wonder.

Blue. Blue was the color of the eyes staring back into your own. He was taller than you, everyone was, so you had to crane your neck slightly to see them. But no height difference could dull the striking image of those Tully eyes.

Robb Stark was but a few months older than you. Yet, he was dressed like a little lord should be, and stood just as straight and tall as his mother and father. You too were dressed up, as a little lady from a noble house is expected to be. Without knowing it, you had worn a dress that nearly matched his eyes exactly. It was something your mother would do, after all, matching your dress with you possible-future-husband’s eyes. She was a hopeless romantic at heart. Despite your best efforts to seem tough, you wore your heart on your sleeve just as your mother did, and you couldn’t help blushing as this eldest Stark boy smiled at you when you met.

Green. Green was the color of the forests you spent hours running, skipping, and riding through. After you and Robb had clearly taken a liking to each other, your parents made the match official. You both knew, technically, but you didn’t really think about all it entailed in the long run. All you knew was that you were a ward of Winterfell now, and you really didn’t mind. Sure, you missed your family, but they came to visit you every-so-often, and sent letters to you at least once a week. Besides, this is quite literally what you were born to do. As a noble lady, you had been taught your whole life that one day you would go live somewhere else and be someone’s bride.

You were lucky. Some girls had to go live in horrible, foreign places with horrible, old husbands. You got to play in the woods with the Stark children, and grow up knowing that one day you would marry one of your best friends. You were all constantly together, joined since day one. Robb, Jon, Theon, and you would play in the lush trees of the wolfswood, sword fighting, tree climbing, and riding your horses. Sometimes you and Robb’s little sister, Sansa, would go down to the creek to do “little lady things” as the boys mockingly called it. Braiding your hair and chatting was rather girly you supposed, but you always were a balanced child. As the years went on you bonded with all of the Stark children, spending hours among those rich green groves. Sword fighting with little Arya, reading with Sansa, playing hide and seek with Bran and the littlest wolf, Rickon. But your favorite was always riding with the older boys, because it meant spending time with Robb. You grew up together in those woods, learning each other’s secrets and dreams, discovering that he loved the way you laughed, and (unknown to you) him admiring the way your hair shined in the golden sunlight that came through the green canopy above you.

Silver. Silver was the color of the dress you wore to the feast on the Night of Frost. Every season, as summer turns cold, the North celebrates the past summer, while preparing for the fact that winter is coming. All the Northern houses come together to eat, drink, and be merry. Most importantly though, they come to establish final plans for winter. Robb, as the heir to Winterfell and future Warden of the North, had sat in on meetings all day. Nevertheless, he had finally been released to enjoy himself, and he made his way to the banquet hall to join the feast. As he slipped in and made his way to the head table he froze. You were sat next to Sansa, chatting and laughing that familiar laugh that made Robb’s heart leap.

But it wasn’t your laugh that made him stand still. It was just you. He had never seen you look so beautiful, in your silver dress that fit you perfectly, and your hair pulled back in intricate braids with delicate silver flowers woven into it.

He had always seen you as one of his best friends, but this… this was something else. He saw you in a different way. You weren’t that little girl who had blushed when you met, you were so much more. He finally got it. You were his lady. You were going to be his, and he was going to be yours. And it was then, in that moment, that Robb realized he loved you. Sure, he had always had feelings for you, no one could deny that. But he loved you. He smiled to himself, his heart racing with excitement as he sat next to you. “One day I will put a ring around your finger”, he thought to himself, “and it’ll be beautiful and silver, just like you are now.”

Violet. Violet was the color of your most prized possession, your bow. On your seventeenth nameday, Robb had given you an incredible gift. “I had it crafted specially for you,” he beamed, handing you the elegant, purple bow. “The carpenters spent hours getting the wood just right. And I told them to make it violet, to match the wildflowers from your family’s home.” You blushed, not realizing before how much Robb took note of. How much he cared. “Robb it’s incredible! Thank you,” you said, throwing your arms around him, careful to keep the gift out of your tight embrace.

Later that afternoon, you and Robb took the bow out for the first time. You were an expert archer, as you had been trained since you could hold an arrow. Most places don’t teach girls to fight, but your house was known everywhere for its expertise in archery. By the age of four you could hit the bullseye nearly every time, and by six you could shoot from horseback. It was one of your favorite qualities about yourself, as it made you unique. Robb had never told you, but he felt the same way. He had always been impressed by your skill, even if he had teased you about it when he was younger. To be honest, he hadn’t been used to someone being better at fighting than him, as he was the oldest child, much less a girl being able to best him. But you had proven your skills to him your second day in Winterfell, and ever since you two had loved shooting together. You took your violet bow everywhere with you, a constant reminder of your family, and the one you had here in the North.

Orange. Orange was the color of the sky as the sun sank lower and lower, drawing in the dusk. You had been riding for a little while with Robb. To where, you had no idea. All he had told you was that he wanted to go for a ride. You didn’t know why you were riding, and you didn’t where you were heading, but it didn’t matter. It was Robb, and if he wanted to go for a ride then you were more than happy to join him. He slowed down as you reached the top of a large hill a few miles outside the walls of Winterfell. He helped you down from your horse, and took your hand in his, leading you to sit beside him on the grass.

You watched as colors streaked across the sky, vibrant pinks and deep oranges holding your gaze. “It’s beautiful, Robb” said quietly, careful not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere. “Aye,” he answered, turning to face you, “but it can’t match the beauty sitting beside me now.” You blushed just like you always did when Robb showed his affections for you. “You’re too good to me, Robb,” you joked, a gentle smile spreading across your face. “I always try to be the best man I can for you,” he began, placing a hand on your cheek to gently lead your eyes to meet his. “And, if you’ll let me, I want to keep being a good man for you for the rest of my life.” You couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. You had known this day was coming, and yet you still found yourself struggling to answer. You composed yourself, and looked back into his gentle eyes once again. “I would love nothing more,” you grinned.

Letting out a small sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he was holding, Robb leaned in, kissing you for the first time. His lips were softer than you would have thought, and he was gentle, treating you with respect and care. It was just a short little moment, but it said more than enough. Evening was beginning to settle as you two rode back to the castle, the orange swept away by a dark, twinkling sky.

Red. Red were the leaves of the heart tree under which you and Robb said your vows. You made your way down through the woods, people smiling at you as you walked. You were draped in your maiden cloak, bearing the colors of your family’s house. It was a bittersweet moment, your father’s arm linked with yours, the colors of your house adorning you for the last time. You looked to your father, and you both understood the meaning in your eyes. You’ll always be a part of me. You then looked to Robb, a smile gracing his face, his eyes full of adoration. You and your father stopped a few feet in front of the tree. Lord Eddard stepped forward. “Who comes before the old gods this night?”

Your father answered. “(Y/N) of House (Y/L/N) comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?”

Robb stepped forward, making eye contact with your father. “Robb of House Stark, heir to Winterfell and future Warden of the North. I claim her. Who gives her?”

Again, your father spoke. “(Y/F/N) of House (Y/L/N), father of the bride.”

Lord Eddard then turned to you, giving you a small smile before speaking. “Lady (Y/N), will you take this man?”

You smiled back. “I take this man.” Robb stepped forward, and took your hand. You looked back at your father for one last second, nodding to him before removing your arm from his. Then, you and Robb knelt before the heart tree, bowing before the old gods. Moments later you stood again, and Robb removed your maiden cloak, replacing it with a beautiful grey and white one adorned, of course, with a direwolf. It was official. You were man and wife, and you couldn’t be more thrilled. You leaned in, sealing the marriage with a kiss, and the crowd around you cheered. Robb leaned into you, whispering in your ear. “I am yours, and you are mine,” he said. You traded places with him, and repeated it; “I am yours, and you are mine.” It was a moment for just you two. And all felt just right. The red leaves rustled in the cool breeze, and you all made your way back to the hall. The night was just beginning, a feast waiting inside. One chapter ended, and another began. And as it had been for over a decade, and would be for the rest of your days, you were with the love of your life.

[shazyloren]

The Room: Chapter 23 - Realising the Chances

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12710496/chapters/30386280

-----------

Daenerys had not known how this room worked at first but she was thankful for it appearing to her almost three weeks ago. The room had showed itself to her at her lowest moment, during her mother's death and reminded her that when everything else feels like it's going to shit, Hogwarts cares and will always be there to welcome you home. At least that was how it had felt like.

Then, after some research, she'd discovered mentions of it in different textbooks popping up as a mixture of names.

The Room of hidden things, The place where everything is hidden, the room of requirement, the come and go room. All of them having some basis on needing a particular place to either hide something or yourself for a certain reason. Daenerys remembered reading about this room when learning about it in 'Modern wizarding history', a book on the events of the Second Wizarding War. Half of the school had been hidden in there when Voldemort had taken over Wizarding Britain.

The last account of it she'd found in books of recent memory was of it being burned during the Battle of Hogwarts some one hundred years ago, and yet, here it was appearing to her in the seventh floor corridor by the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy with just a single thought of 'I need to be safe'. The room had obviously got some form of magical containment and had managed to heal itself together as it did not look like any form of burned or charred. It did not even smell as such.

Instead, there were bookcases as high as those in the school library with all the books she could ever dream of reading piled high, general and restricted. Some of the books were falling apart from age but still held that wonderful book smell that she associated with reading late into the night. There were novels of distant lands and travels of successful wizards. There were tales of times past and historical figures, their achievements and their downfalls. There were non-fiction books that doubled up as perfect learning material, all the potions books she could ever need or want.

There was a sitting area for her to read these books, plush and squishy bean bags in pitch black and fire red like her own bedroom back at the family home. The colours of her family's name, colours she wore with more pride than that of the Slytherin green. There was several of them with embroidered pillows and fur blankets to match, all laid out by a roaring fireside which was decorated with detailed Dragons and dancing flowers. Daenerys loved it's black paint job with the gold leaf calligraphy; she wish she had this in her room at the Targaryen residence or in her Slytherin dorm room.

It certainly made her feel safe being squished in a bean bag with a thick blanket and radiating heat from a fireplace. Several times she'd fallen asleep already.

By the back of the room near a fake window letting in fake light was a large, rustic oak table with a black pewter cauldron in the middle surrounded by crystal vials and velvet bags of all sorts of ingredients. It was all rather dusty but had such a homey vibe. Daenerys thought of how she'd always wanted a potions room in whatever house she owned in the future, it was one of the ways she kept her head together. Making potions and discovering new ones, of course she hadn't done this in a while so this was why there was a lack of togetherness inside her.

There was also a desk by the bookcases, also oak and old, but sturdy. There was enough room for her parchment and quill and storage of up to a couple of books she would be using at any one time to complete homework. The walls were large stone brick, but it was draped with curtains and tapestries of all four houses. Greens and Silvers and Reds and Golds and Yellows and Blacks and Blues. They created a layer of warmth that added to the room, keeping heat in rather than losing it like the rest of the school was during winter time. It really was somewhere she could feel... safe.

Even if it was away from people.

But now, this being her sixth visit to this wonderful room since her first discovery of it, she was sitting in her favourite spot not thinking of all this, but thinking of Defence Against the Dark Arts. This was quickly becoming her favourite place in all of hogwarts. The black bean bag with the draped red throw on it by the fireplace was where she was located as she did some reading for her Defence lesson later on in the week, wondering just how much she was going to have to improve in a short amount of time. She had a clock thankfully in the room to keep an eye on the time for her. She was supposed to be meeting Missandei outside the barrels near the entrance of hufflepuff basement later on.

Missandei had been terrified when Daenerys was chosen to enter the tournament, it was the most vocal she'd ever been. She called her folly for retaliating to Joffrey's taunts and told her she should've left Jon to win the glory himself in this tournament. Daenerys had told her she was scared, but it was what it was now and all she could do was prepare and have constant vigilance of her surrounding throughout the tournament.

No one celebrated with her either, so that was why she came to the room most evenings. Even if it was terrifying to be a contestant in this dangerous game, she had faced worse from her brother for years. She'd hoped that at least one person would show support for her besides Missandei and the Sand Twins, but she had been wrong. Everyone was wearing 'Support Snow' badges around the halls and Daenerys was half sick of it. So she sulked most evening in this very room, swearing to herself to get better at Defence, to really show them who was going to win this tournament.

If they all really thought he'd do better than her because of him being better at Defence then they were going to be in for a shock. For one thing, it would be a test of general intelligence. There would be puzzle to solve and riddles to crack. And Daenerys had done her fair share of those. And if they knew what had happened to her the past four years, they wouldn't be calling her weak. They would be giving her the best odds for pure resilience to shit being thrown her way.

She was strong in so many more areas than he was her yet they were never going to give her a thought. Daenerys wondered if that might suit her better. She could be the underdog, quietly get through the tasks (depending on what they are) and come out the eventual win at the other end. While Jon hadn't done anything on their patrols to aggravate her, on the contrary he'd been lovely to walk the halls with, he'd been walking with a swagger that Daenerys only associated with being the cock of the walk. She'd seen it whenever Baratheon strutted into the common room or whenever Theon successfully got one of the teachers to drink liverworms.

But she'd soon make him walk like an insecure and scared child when she showed her prowess in the tournament. If she gets Defence down, then she'd have to be the favourite, the other competition wasn't anything special from first glance. She was exceedingly good in Potions, she'd have her vials of strength and pepper up potions with her hidden in her robes if her health were to decrease a little. She had mastered how to make her strength potions more potent with none of the negative side effects through the use of knox grass.

Daenerys was also extremely good in Care of Magical Creatures. She had a second sight almost with wild beasts and forest imps, she was able to bond with them all immediately. Whether it was getting a Bowtruckle to stay still for some sketchings or making a proud Hippogriff feel respected, Daenerys was able to achieve it all. She would be able to face all creatures, even dragons heaven forbid, if she was lucky enough. A Dragon was the one thing Daenerys would love to see in her lifetime, but she did not go into the wild or visit the sanctuary's in Romania and the like.

She was also a dab hand at Ancient Runes, there wasn't a symbol in Spellman's Syllabry that Daenery did not recognise in her sleep. If there was a rune to be translated in the tournament then for sure she'd be able to succeed in these areas. Daenerys even know of one's not in Spellman's Syllabry, which was few and far between. She'd known of the Deathly Hallows symbol from the second wizarding war and had researched other further, including fashioning her own symbol to sign letters.

Damn Defence being a pain in my arse, she angrily thought as she reread the same paragraph three times over.

Daenerys was re-reading about Boggarts, one of her many weaknesses when it came to Defence. Her Boggart had changed many forms over the years. Firstly, it had been her father, he had scared her loads as a child and she'd always been more afraid of him than anything. Secondly it had turned to the notion of rejection, this was around the time they moved to the UK. She'd been scared of the Wizarding population rejecting her family and not having a place to fit in. This it turned out, was nothing compared to what it turned into afterwards.

Since that fateful Christmas four years ago, all the Boggarts Daenerys had faced had taken the form of her brother. He would always look the same as that first time, in his Quidditch gear and covered in mud. If Daenerys stood frozen long enough, he would turn angry and stalk towards her, even if shakily she was able to turn him away with a small 'Riddikulus'. It always felt so real, brought about the same nausea as she felt the memories take over and relive the experience.

She hadn't thought on Viserys for a few days, even though she'd been inundated with letter from him that were all left unopened at the bottom of her school bag. Every morning without fail since the choosing of the champions his owl would show up with post and drop it onto her plate of egg and bacon. She would ceremoniously at this point, shove the letters in her bag without a second thought and continue with her day as if nothing had happened.

Perhaps she should read them, give them to Professor Lannister to pass onto the ministry as evidence in her case. It would only help, particularly if the contents was explicit and harmful. She did not miss reading those types of letter from him; ones where he laid out explicitly what he was going to do to her body when she got home off of the train for Christmas or for the summer. She used to read them in fear, but now, knowing his world would soon come crashing down on him when they arrested him for the horrendous acts he'd done to her, she was strong against the harm her words would cause him.

"Best get it over with" She grumbled to herself as her eyes flickered over tot he clock, she had an hour before Missandei would be finished with her study group for Arithmancy in the library. Yes, Missandei had gone to the Library on saturday with a study group. Daenerys had been so proud of her, even if she didn't say anything and just nodded and agreed with the others, it was a huge step for her in becoming more confident speaking to others.

Ripping the band aid off, she grabbed a letter and opened it with force. The Parchment ripped slightly but she did not care.

Dearest sister,

You've been busy, my little clam. Ignoring the only brother that actually cares for you, that holds you like no one else at your own mother's funeral and enter a tournament for a cash prize and glory. You've changed, I'm not sure I like the new Dany. She has forgotten her place as my property. My body misses our little excursions, even if you've done nothing but anger me since you've left. The way you left too, not letting me have one more good fuck with you before you left for the train.

Still, summer will come around before we both know it and once again your little cunt will be mine. I have tried to speed this up, but for reasons unknown Professor Lannister is stopping his students going home for Christmas, so it will be June before we see each other again.

Remember, you're mine.

Viserys III

Daenerys had to laugh or she may have caused a lot of property damage in her newly discovered room. The way he talked about her as if she was nothing more than a brainless oaf for him to fuck, to play with. How dare he, she thought as her blood fired up and her eyes began to sweat with rage. She loathed him, despised him, and not a single fibre in her body regretted telling Professor Lannister.

Daenerys was excited that Viserys did not know the fury she was going to unleash on him, she almost wanted to be there when he was arrested. What would be his defence? There was none, no defence he could cover his acts with.

Acting on this thought, she opened the rest of the letters and they were all of a similar manner, with one going into very graphic detail about how it felt for him to be inside his sweet sister that made Daenerys stomach turn. Feeling defiance wash over her she packed her back up and held the letters tightly in her hands as she left her sanctuary and began the long journey towards the Headmaster's tower.

There was only one place she was going to take these letters, to Professor Lannister to be put in as evidence.

Viserys was a vile human being and Daenerys was going to enjoy watching him crumble.

[thesewords-mydiary]

“I Swear It” - Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, their background stories or the world in which they live. That belongs to George RR Martin, HBO and all other affiliates. I do not claim any of those as my own creations. This is simply a work of imagination. Furthermore, all characters in the story are consenting adults (at least 18 years of age).

Rating: Mature Characters: Jon Snow, Sansa Stark Fandom: Game of Thrones, ASOIAF Relationship: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark

Summary: A collection of drabbles and oneshots - missing scenes - with Jon and Sansa. They will range from 6x04 to the present season, and may be out of order from time to time as I will write one when a prompt is submitted for it or when an idea strikes. Hope you don't mind that! xxoo

*Below is a "missing scene" between Jon x Sansa set in episode 6x04.

Mentions of Ramsay being "a monster” and the fact that Sansa has “injuries.” No graphic details. Just that.*

Also posted at AO3.

Chapter 1 - 6x04 “Missing Scene” #1

He shows her to the Lord Commander’s chambers quickly following their reunion in the courtyard, his brow furrowing in concern as he feels her lean heavily against him, her limbs trembling as they move slowly up the stairs and toward the door. He has no idea what has caused her to flee for The Wall, but he’s positive that it is something that will not be pleasing to learn of.

Her lady knight - Brienne of Tarth, as she’d been introduced to him - follows them quickly to the chambers, concern painting her face as well, and Jon knows that something is not right.

“Lady Sansa,” the knight says, stepping forward, quite obviously ready to shove Jon from the room if she is commanded to do so. “We must get you warm… and dry. Your,” she pauses, her eyes moving to Jon and back again. “Your injuries need to be properly assessed now that we’ve arrived safely.”

Jon’s eyes widen, his gaze quickly roams over Sansa’s face, taking in her immediate blush and the way that she makes a point of looking everywhere but into his eyes.

“I’ll be fine, Brienne,” Sansa replies, a tone of finality taking over. She pushes herself out of Jon’s protective hold and she smiles reassuringly at them both. It’s as though a mask has been slipped over her face. “I only need to spend some time in front of a fire.” She glances down at herself, a look of disgust crossing her features before she covers it up once again. “And perhaps a bath. Go have a rest, Brienne. I’ll be safe here.”

Brienne looks nearly ready to argue, a war waging behind her eyes and that makes Jon tempted to ask her to stay. Duty wins her inner battle, however, and the knight nods before disappearing through the door once again.

Jon brings his hesitant gaze back to Sansa as soon as they’re alone again, and swallows hard against the lump of dread forming in his throat. “Injuries,” he inquires quietly.

Sitting herself slowly into a chair in front of the fire in his chambers, Sansa tries in vain to reassure him with a grin. “She’s unnecessarily worried, Jon. My ankle is a bit swollen from my… escape.” She lifts the bottom of her skirts slightly, showing him her ankle which is more than a bit swollen, and quite bruised as well. Jon’s brow furrows, and he crouches down beside her to look at it. “Theon and I jumped from the battlements at Winterfell, you see, and I twisted it when I landed. I’ll be fine.”

“This is not fine, Sansa,” he says, gently guiding her ankle to bend and move in his hands. He shoots her an apologetic glance when he hears her sharp intake of breath, but continues to try to work out the stiffness he feels in the joint there. “There is no maester here any longer. Sam Tarly -- my br-friend -- has traveled to the Citadel for study to become the next. It looks very badly sprained.” He pauses, his eyes traveling up to her face again. “You jumped from the battlements? You are lucky to have survived a fall that high.”

Sansa nods, looking away from him and into the fire. “I had to, Jon,” she bites back, her tone turning cold and forceful. “Ramsay… he’s a monster.”

“Ramsay...Snow?” Jon’s confusion is evident.

“Bolton,” she corrects with disgust. “His father legitimized him.” Sansa pauses, a thoughtful expression taking over her face. As though she is trying to read Jon, make sure of his loyalty. He must pass the test after a moment because she eventually decides to elaborate. “Littlefinger, after he helped me escape Kings Landing and then took me to my Aunt in the Vale… he brought me to them - the Boltons. He made some sort of deal with them - sold me to them, forced me into a marriage with Ramsay… for an heir and an alliance between our families. For power.” She swallows hard, shakes her head as if to rid herself of awful memories. “Ramsay is a monster, Jon.”

Jon licks his lips, his hands on her ankle stilling for a moment. He consciously tries to keep his eyes upon her face, not wanting to upset her further by allowing them to roam. Though he wants so terribly to search her for more injuries. He now knows that there are more - has a feeling there are many more.

He has no idea what to say to make this better. No idea what he is supposed to do next in a scenario such as this. Jon’s mind quickly goes back to Sam, and to Gilly. To the way she’d suffered at her own father’s hands; to the way Sam adamantly took care of her, knew exactly what to do to help her. Oh, how he wishes Sam were here now. He would know exactly what Jon should do to make this better for Sansa. Because as far as Jon can see, all that seems right is to march south and kill both Ramsay Bolton and Baelish with his own two hands.

“So there is more than the ankle, then. He hurt you,” is the first thing to come flying from his mouth and his face conveys how stupid he feels in asking.

Sansa’s lips tick up at the corners, a sad smile of sorts showing itself. “Yes,” she whispers, eyes shimmering with tears. “I cannot go back to him, Jon.”

“You won’t,” he says fiercely, his hand reaching for her own, taking hold of it. He means it. He has spent so many years praying to gods he has no faith in for the safety of the family he’d left behind. He lived and died believing them all either dead or close to death. Raised from the dead not a full two days before Sansa comes to him in this way, Jon cannot help the thought that perhaps she is the reason for it. She is why the god of light that the Red Woman is always going on about saw fit to return him to the state of living. She is quite literally the answer to his prayers. He resolves himself then, to learn from Sam in this instance. He will see to it that Sansa is safe and taken care of. He will adamantly stand beside her no matter the cost. “I’ll protect you, Sansa. I swear it.”