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sydneysageivashkov · 5 years ago

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Everything We’ve Done (Is There On Our Faces) 8/?

It started, once upon a time, with Ned Stark finding a litter of orphaned dire wolf cubs, with Robert Baratheon riding for Winterfell, with Ned becoming Hand of the King in the viper’s pit that was King’s Landing.

It restarts like this:

Arya and Sansa wake up as children again, a message ringing in their ears. The Old Gods need Westeros to be strong and united to defend the Wall, and the Old Gods don’t forget oaths easily.

(Time travel AU. Eventual Sansa/Theon, Arya/Gendry, Jaime/Brienne.)

AO3 | FF.net

“It’s a terrible thing, what happened,” said Wyman Manderly. “I can’t imagine it would have been easy, for the two of you.”

Ned exchanged a glance with Benjen. “It wasn’t,” agreed Ned. “But it’s over, now, and Sansa can look forward to her marriage with Theon Greyjoy.”

“And good riddance with the Bolton bastard!” exclaimed the Greatjon. “The Gods know we don’t need someone like that as Lord of the Dreadfort, especially with the Long Night coming.”

“He might even have brought back flaying,” agreed Manderly.

It was almost amusing to see the two bannermen who were the most separate culturally agreeing with each other. Perhaps if it hadn’t been over Ramsay Snow, Ned would have found it truly amusing. But with Roose Bolton having already left for the Dreadfort, well before any of the other lords had departed, Ned couldn’t help the coil of worry in his chest.

Roose Bolton was always going to be a threat, regardless of whether they had left Ramsay alone. He had conspired with the Lannisters to murder Robb and Catelyn, and take the other lords of the North hostage, to become Warden of the North, without any provocation. Ned kept reminding himself of it, but it still didn’t sit any easier in his chest.

Howland Reed sat straighter. “Speaking of the Long Night,” he said, “it seems to me that if any castles still have records of the first, then it would be the one built by Brandon the Builder himself.”

“We’ve searched the libraries already,” said Ned. “Maester Luwin just about turned the entire tower upside down, looking for information. There’s nothing.”

“But the Library Tower isn’t the oldest part of Winterfell, is it?” pressed Howland. “Winterfell must have been built and rebuilt a hundred times over, over the centuries. Perhaps it’s only in the oldest parts of the castle that the truth remains.”

Benjen met Ned’s eyes. “The crypts.”

“The oldest parts are collapsed,” said Ned. “It will take time to access them fully. But – we can try.” Something like a cross between anticipation and dread settled in the pit of Ned’s stomach. It was the best lead they had, one that they had never had before – but the idea of venturing into the depths of the crypts unsettled him. And he would have to take the girls with him, because if anyone knew what was relevant, it would be them, even though every instinct in him rebelled against it.

“Winterfell isn’t the only castle that dates back to the first Long Night,” said the Greatjon. “Last Hearth does, as well.” The Dreadfort, too, thought Ned, though he expected that Roose Bolton would be of little help.

“The Nightfort is the oldest castle on the Wall,” said Benjen. “It’s been abandoned for a long time, though, and it was rebuilt many times – I don’t know if there would be any writings left.”

“It’s worth a try,” said Ned. “Perhaps you should look at manning it again, with the fresh men coming to the Wall.”

“Hopefully, we’ll be able to man more of the castles than just that,” said Benjen. “If we’re to have any chance, we’ll need to man them all.”

“The King will be in Winterfell soon,” said Ned. “When he hears of the situation, he’ll send more men north to man the Wall. All of Westeros will be ready to fight the Walkers when they come.”

“The Age of Heroes come again,” said Catelyn. Ned turned to see her standing in the doorway. She entered to sit by his side. “I never much wanted heroes, but it seems I’ve no choice in the matter.” A peaceful life, raising their children and ruling the North; that was all he and Catelyn had wanted since they had married, so long ago now.

“My lady,” greeted Manderly, inclining his head slightly. “You spoke very well at the meeting.”

“She always speaks well,” interjected Ned.

Catelyn gave him a small, pleased smile. “It is an important issue, my lord,” she told Manderly. “I knew that it would be difficult for anyone to believe, but I hoped that my word – that of an Andal – might sway more people.”

“It certainly did that,” rumbled the Greatjon.

“We were discussing searching the crypts and having the Nightfort searched for information about the Others,” Ned told her.

“They were both built by Bran the Builder,” explained the Greatjon.

“I’m aware, my lord,” said Catelyn. “Was Storm’s End not also built by Bran the Builder, according to legend? I know that most maesters do not believe it was, but most maesters also believe that the Nightfort and Winterfell weren’t built by the same man.”

“Another thing to speak with the King about,” said Ned, nodding. “If Bran the Builder truly had a hand in Storm’s End, it’s possible he left something behind there.”

Catelyn turned to Benjen, Manderly and the Greatjon. “If you will excuse us, my lords, I would like to speak with my lord husband.” She waited for the three men to shuffle out of the room before she turned back to Ned. “I think that you should send someone else to the Wall.”

“Sansa and Arya both say that Jon is our best chance of treating with the Wildlings,” said Ned, his shoulders tensing.

“I mean in addition to the boy,” said Catelyn. “I won’t lie and say that it will not ease my mind, having another of our children on the Wall while Jon Snow treats with the Wildlings – but I trust Sansa and Arya’s judgement. I have to. So no, Ned, that is not the only reason I have for sending someone else.”

“What else?” asked Ned, his tone still wary.

“Sending one of our trueborn sons to the Wall shows that we are serious about the White Walker threat,” explained Catelyn. “While you and I know why you can’t go yourself, there will be some who see your absence as Winterfell not taking the threat seriously. If we send one of our trueborn sons, then it demonstrates that we are.”

“Robb, then?” asked Ned. “Bran?”

Catelyn hesitated. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Bran is so young, but if things go wrong while you’re in King’s Landing, we need Robb here.”

“Things won’t go wrong,” promised Ned. “I am as prepared as I can be, Cat. I won’t wait for Robert to die to break the news. Sansa and Arya will be both be there to advise me.”

“Cersei Lannister is still the daughter of one of the most powerful men in Westeros,” said Catelyn. “We cannot underestimate that family, Ned. It’s one mistake that we made the other time, and half our family died for it.”

“I won’t,” said Ned. “Like you said, we have to trust Sansa and Arya’s judgement, and I will. I promise.” Catelyn pressed her lips together, not meeting his eyes. “Cat. I swear to you, on the old gods and the new, that I will not make the same mistakes that I did the other time.”

Catelyn almost smiled, and said, “That oath still means you can make new ones.”

“I have no way of knowing what those mistakes will be, so I can’t promise you that,” said Ned. “I would if I could, though. You know that I would; that I wouldn’t do anything to harm you or our children.”

Catelyn’s eyes squeezed shut, and she turned her back to him. After a long moment, she whispered, “Then why have you not acted about Jon Snow?”

Ned’s heart skipped a beat. All he could think was she knows, she knows – but that was impossible, he realised as his rational brain caught up with the rest of him. “Jon wouldn’t do anything to harm our children.”

“Oh?” asked Catelyn, her voice icy. “He took our children’s birth right when he allowed himself to be crowned King in the North. It was Bran’s by right, and even if they didn’t know about Bran’s survival, then the crown should have fallen to Sansa. It was her birthright and he took it, just like I always warned you.”

“Sansa and Arya both say that they supported him,” said Ned. “You said that you trust their judgement.”

“They shouldn’t have needed to support him!” cried Catelyn. “It should never even have been a question. The lords should have never seen him as an option when he had a trueborn sister sitting right next to him.”

Ned’s breath caught. He didn’t know how to argue that; she wasn’t wrong in her assessment, even if Ned struggled to imagine Jon actively setting out to steal his sibling’s seat. More likely, he thought, that one of the Northern lords had named him and he hadn’t protested when Sansa hadn’t. But Catelyn was right in that, too; by all rights, Jon shouldn’t have been an option.

Before he even had a chance to formulate a response, Catelyn continued, “The only reason I have not asked you to remove him from Winterfell is because I know that we will need his help, no matter what my feelings are. But something has to be done, my lord.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asked. “Do you wish for me to punish him for something he hasn’t done? Even Theon, who remembers what he did in the other time, I only sentenced to squire for Ser Rodrik and to help Bran and Rickon with their studies. What would you have me do to Jon?”

Catelyn deflated. “I don’t know,” she whispered. More clearly, she said, “I don’t know, my lord. But can we risk him taking my children’s rightful place?”

The fire in Sansa’s chambers was roaring wonderfully warm. Sansa was crammed into her bed with Bran on one side, Arya on the other, and Rickon at her feet, because he had seen the other two lying in bed with her and refused to be left out. Jon and Robb were on the few chairs she had in her room, and the direwolves had all crowded into the room, and were lying half on top of each other by the fire. Sansa wasn’t sure she had ever seen her chambers so full, but she also couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this safe and warm.

“They were magnificent,” Arya was saying. “We couldn’t have fit them into the courtyard. I was so jealous that Jon could ride on one.”

“Rhaegal,” remembered Sansa. “He rode Rhaegal, named after Rhaegar Targaryen.”

“Little ironic, isn’t it?” said Robb wryly. “Riding the dragon named after the man who kidnapped our aunt.”

“The other options were riding a dragon named after Viserys Targaryen or a Dothraki warlord,” said Sansa, her voice dry. “Daenerys told me a little of her brother, while we tried to find an accord. I don’t think he was any better a namesake.”

“I’m more caught on the fact I rode a dragon at all,” said Jon.

“Oh, you did more than that,” jeered Arya. Robb choked on air at the innuendo while Jon gaped at her openly.

“More than ride?” asked Rickon, peeping up at them with wide, innocent eyes.

“He helped look after them,” said Sansa quickly. “Like how Theon has to help take care of the horses.” Arya opened her mouth, a smirk still on her face, so Sansa cut her off. “And you can’t talk, or did you not spend our last few hours with a certain blacksmith?” Arya’s mouth snapped shut.

“She did what?” demanded Robb, as Jon crossed his arms as if he was ready to threaten the blacksmith here and now.

Arya buried her face in her hands. “Oh, gods, Sansa, you really had to go right for the throat, didn’t you?”

“What blacksmith?” pressed Jon. “Is he here in Winterfell?”

“No,” groaned Arya. “He’s in King’s Landing, far from your reach.” Jon and Robb both huffed, sharing a look. “Oh, for the love of – I was a woman grown! I thought I only had a few hours left and I started it, you bloody idiots.” Jon looked faintly ill at the thought of Arya starting anything of the sort.

“Maybe I’ll have to join you when you go to King’s Landing,” grumbled Robb, though only half-heartedly.

“If there’s one thing you should know about Arya,” said Sansa, “it’s that trying to forbid her of anything will only make her want it more.”

“He’s not an it!” said Arya hotly, at the same time as Robb conceded, “That’s true.”

“What about you, Sansa?” asked Bran, snuggling closer. “Did you find anyone?”

Sansa swallowed, looking down. “No,” she said, softly. “I’m afraid I didn’t, Bran. But that’s okay, because I found you again, and Arya and Jon and Theon. I wasn’t alone.” There was silence for a moment, as Arya laid her hand against Sansa’s shoulder. Sansa let herself smile as she leant her head against Arya’s.

Robb broke the silence, saying, “But back to the blacksmith. I need to know his name, at least.”

“What, so you can tell Father?” scoffed Arya. “I’m not an idiot, Robb.”

“I didn’t say you were,” said Robb, looking put out.

“You married a girl from Volantis,” intervened Sansa, taking pity on Arya and Robb both. “It was a love match. Talisa, her name was.”

“Talisa Maegyr,” supplied Arya. “They say she was kind. She was a nurse, I think.” Robb whispered the name to himself with something like wonder in his voice. Arya smiled. “Left a comfortable life in Volantis to become a nurse. I think I would have liked her.”

“I think I would have, too,” said Sansa.

“Then I hope I’ll meet her again,” declared Robb. Sansa couldn’t quite meet his eyes, so she looked down at her hands. She wasn’t sure how to tell him she already had other plans for him. But the girls I’ve picked out for him are good people, too, she reminded herself. Meera protected Bran, Wynafryd seems to be decent, and Margaery – unlikely a match as she is – was always kind to me and to the smallfolk. He can be happy with them.

“What about me?” asked Bran. “Did I have anybody?”

“And me!” exclaimed Rickon, though Sansa thought it was more because he didn’t want to be left out than any actual interest in girls.

“You were too young, Rickon,” said Arya, “and no, Bran.”

“But we can fix that,” Sansa added quickly. “Shireen Baratheon’s about your age, isn’t she?” It was a good match to make, since it tied them more closely to a powerful Southern House, should the worst happen. Bran would be betrothed to the second in line to the Iron Throne when Cersei’s infidelity was exposed. It might even discourage Robert from seeking any other betrothals between House Baratheon and House Stark, or at least pacify him when he discovered that he couldn’t marry Sansa off to Joffrey.

Bran made a face. “I don’t have to marry her anytime soon, do I?”

Arya snorted, not even bothering to pretend to cover it with a cough. Sansa shot her a look and said, “Of course not. You’re both still too young to be married.”

“Good,” said Bran, slumping back down in the bed.

“I remember wanting to name my children -” started Sansa, but was cut off.

“Oh no,” stage-whispered Arya. Sansa drove her elbow into Arya’s side, and Arya half-groaned, half-laughed.

“I wanted to name them after all of you,” said Sansa. “When the Tyrrells tried to marry me to Loras, I used to dream about having children that were like having you back.” She spotted Robb hiding a smile, and she cocked her head. “What?”

“Nothing,” said Robb, shaking his head. “It’s just – that’s the most Sansa thing I’ve heard you say in months, dreaming of marriage and children.” Sansa ducked her head. “I hadn’t realised that I’d missed it.”

“I still want them,” she said, quietly. “It’s just that I can’t see how I can bring children into the world, knowing what’s coming, and still be a good mother.”

Robb’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked down to the floor. “Then I shouldn’t meet Talisa Maegyr,” he said. “Or if I do, I should tell her to go home to Volantis while she still can.” Sansa’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest at the thought: Robb giving up a chance at happiness to keep his happiness safe. It was stupidly noble, but oh so Robb.

“Come here,” ordered Sansa, holding out her hand. He looked ready to protest, so Sansa repeated more forcefully, “Come here.” Robb reluctantly stood up from the chair and took her hand, looking unsurprised when she tugged him down so he collapsed on top of the bed. Bran let out an ‘oof!’ as Robb landed partly on his legs, and Arya laughed with delight.

Jon was watching them indulgently, but with a closely guarded jealousy that Sansa would never have recognised the first time around. “What are you still doing there?” she asked pointedly.

Jon started. “I couldn’t -”

“Yes, you bloody well can,” said Arya, as Bran and Rickon started to call out their own encouragements.

“Arguing with our sisters in very unwise, Snow,” said Robb, who was still rearranging himself in an attempt not to crush any of his younger siblings. “Gods know how you’re going to find a spot, though.”

Jon perched on the very edge of Sansa’s bed. Arya rolled her eyes, pulling him down so that he was half-lying across her lap, head bumping next to Robb’s. Bran pulled his legs out from under Robb as Rickon gleefully collapsed on top of Robb, aiming all of his weight for Robb’s stomach.

“Good gods, Rickon, when did you get so heavy?” Robb complained half-heartedly, but his arms encircled Rickon automatically.

“You know that the only reason we have any chance at all is because of the two of you,” said Jon, looking up at Sansa and Arya. “I mean, we all died in your time, but now we know what’s coming. We can still win this. You can still have your children, Sansa, and Robb can still meet Talisa Maegyr if he wants.”

“And I can still become a knight!” said Bran.

“And me!” added Rickon, again unwilling to be left out.

“And you, Arya?” asked Sansa. “What are you going to be doing?”

Arya hummed for a moment, thinking. “I don’t know, yet. I just want to make it through, right now.”

“We’ll do it,” said Sansa. “We’ll do it, and my children will have to have names all of their own, because you’ll all be here with me.”

“Are we all ready?” asked Ned, glancing down and into the darkness of the crypts.

“Should your daughters be coming?” asked the Greatjon, his voice blunt.

“We’re daughters of House Stark,” said Arya tartly. “Those our ancestors in those crypts. What’s your reasoning for entering Winterfell’s crypts, again?” The Greatjon looked startled enough that Jon had to swallow back laughter.

“Let them come,” advised Ned. “No doubt they’ll follow us down if we tried to leave them behind.”

“No doubt,” agreed Sansa frostily.

“Then we should move on,” said Ned. Jon gripped his torch tighter and followed Ned into the crypts. Arya walked beside him, Robb and Sansa only a step or two behind, and Benjen, the Greatjon and Howland Reed taking up the rear. The air chilled as soon as they stepped into the crypts. Jon resisted pulling his cloak tighter around himself, knowing that it would only grow colder as they descended deeper.

“It’s been a long time since I was in here,” murmured Sansa. Jon glanced back. Her face was pale, and she clutched at her torch so tightly her knuckles were white. He had forgotten, until this moment, that Sansa had died in the crypts, but it was obvious Sansa hadn’t. She glanced nervously into the shadowy corners of the crypt, walking slightly closer to Robb than was necessary.

“They’re all in the tombs,” promised Robb. Sansa’s lips puckered, and Jon knew what she was thinking as clearly as if she had said it aloud: For how long?

Jon glanced at Arya. Although she gripped her torch tightly, she otherwise seemed unbothered by being surrounded by dead men, even after everything she had seen.

“We need to keep moving,” said Ned. “The tombs go deep, and I don’t think any of us want to be in here any longer than we have to be.”

“Of course, Father,” said Sansa, her voice subdued.

They had descended another two levels when Arya spoke up. “Why do all the tombs have swords across their laps?”

“Old Nan always said it was to keep their spirits sealed in,” said Jon. “Though I’ve got no idea why they thought that would work.”

“No, but…” Arya trailed off as she approached an old tomb, peering up at it. “Placing a sword across your knees shows that you aren’t offering guest right. Why are our ancestors refusing guest right?”

Jon’s mouth opened, though he didn’t have an answer. He exchanged a glance with Robb. Around them, Ned, Benjen and the lords looked around at the statues, more apprehensively than they had before. Suddenly, the faces carved into stone did not look as familiar as they had done, all of his life. They seemed to take on a new dimension, not like a Stark in their features, but something distinctly alien.

Even if Arya’s right, these men would have lived too long after the Long Night to remember what happened, Jon told himself. They’re Starks, like Robb or Arya or Sansa. They won’t show us harm.

“Who are they denying guest right?” asked Sansa. “They couldn’t deny us guest right, could they? We aren’t guests in Winterfell.”

“Maybe the Others?” suggested Robb.

“We might not be guests to Winterfell, but we’re guests to the crypts,” said Ned, his voice dark. “We have to be more careful, going forwards.”

“There aren’t any White Walkers hiding in the crypts,” pointed out the Greatjon. “No matter who they’re rejecting, they can’t do anything about it.” Jon saw Sansa and Arya looking at each other out of the corner of his eye; neither of them seemed reassured by the Greatjon’s words.

The ground seemed to creek beneath under Jon’s feet as they made their way further down, dust kicking up at his feet with every step he took. With each level, the dust grew thicker, until Jon thought that he could choke on it if he breathed too deeply.

“We’ll be seeing the cave-ins soon,” warned Ned, not bothering to look over his shoulder. “It’s going to be dangerous. If anyone wants to turn back, this is the time.”

“Couldn’t find my way back even if I wanted to,” grunted the Greatjon, to which Howland Reed made an agreeing sound.

“We should keep moving,” said Arya, and Jon nodded in agreement. Ned cast a worried glance at Sansa, but in spite of her pale face and uneven breathing, she stepped forwards to stand in line with Jon and Arya.

“We’ll all go on,” she told Ned. A flicker of pride flashed through Ned’s eyes before he nodded solemnly.

They picked their way carefully through the remainder of the tombs. This far deep, the features had been weathered away, leaving only faceless statues watching their progression with brittle, broken swords across their knees. Somehow, this felt worse than statues at the top of the crypts; the statues no longer felt like Stark ancestors, but an ancient, unknowable force. The broken swords were the only comfort; even if they somehow got loose, they wouldn’t be difficult to repel.

Jon turned back to help Sansa over rubble, the partially collapsed remains of the roof. Arya scrambled behind Sansa, her breeches looking beaten and her hair a mess. Lady Stark might have a heart attack when she sees Arya, thought Jon, amused. Up ahead, Ned, the Greatjon, Reed and Robb were working to clear the path.

“Do you think we’ll find anything?” asked Jon. He hated to think that they’d ventured so far down when there was nothing to find. The dirt above their heads seemed ominous, as if it would fall in any second.

Arya shrugged. “I haven’t the foggiest.”

“Lord Reed is right, though,” said Sansa. “If anything remains, it’ll be in the depths of the crypts, and we need all the information we can get.”

“Girls, Jon!” called Ned. He and the others had managed to clear a small hole at the top of the cave-in. Howland Reed was already scrambling through it. It looked hardly large enough for the Greatjon to fit through, but he managed to cram his way through. Jon sent Sansa and Arya ahead of him, before making his was through the last of all.

“There’s something up there,” said Sansa, brushing dirt off of her skirt. “All boarded up, by the look of it.”

Sansa was right; it was hard to see it in the low light, but someone had made an effort to place wood and earth across a narrow entranceway between two tombs, just as the crypts turned a corner. They were on one of the lowest levels, now, although not quite at the bottom – they were far enough down that they were in the levels Brandon the Builder himself had probably walked the halls of, building tombs and burying his family members.

Arya slipped away from the others before anyone could stop her, approaching the door. “I think it’s newer,” she said, surprise colouring her voice. “All this wood, I mean. It hasn’t rotten away as much as the supports, and it’s definitely been hammered in over the top of the door.”

Silence met her report. Jon didn’t want to think it, but he couldn’t help but wonder: what had been hidden in there?

Silently, without any discussion, Reed and the Greatjon withdrew the daggers from their belts. It hadn’t been easy to find enough dragonglass around Winterfell to create any daggers – there weren’t even enough to go round. Ned took his dragonglass dagger from its sheath, motioning for Arya and Sansa to get behind the others. Arya made a face, but obeyed. Jon and Robb got to work tearing the wood from the door, the other men hovering behind them with daggers at the ready. The wood came free easily enough. It may not have been as rotten as the rest at this level, but it was still thousands of years old, old enough that it made Jon dizzy to think about.

When the wood was cleared away, Robb tried the door. It didn’t move. Gritting his teeth, Robb backed up a few steps before throwing his whole weight against the door. It gave way and Robb stumbled into the room, Ned rushing in after him. Jon followed.

It was clear that the room hadn’t seen life in generations: everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, and the air felt stale and still. Against one wall was shelves full of books, still in tact even after all these years, and most remarkable of all was a sword, resting against the wall opposite Jon, held up in what seemed to be a position of honour.

“Ice,” breathed Ned, because there was nothing else that the sword could be. This had to be the original Ice, the one that had been replaced by the Valyrian steel sword somewhere above their heads. With a sudden rush of horrified understanding, Jon realised exactly where the name had come from.

Arya crossed the room and stared up at the sword with wide, flinty eyes. “This is the kind of sword the White Walkers used,” she whispered. “The kind of sword that killed me.”

“Why do we have a sword of the Others?” asked Robb, even though there was no one living who could provide him an answer.

“They sealed this away,” said Sansa. “I always thought that the original Ice must have broken, but it wasn’t. One of our ancestors purposefully sealed it away and hid the truth from the rest of us.”

Howland Reed alone had moved to the bookshelf. Gingerly, he took down a stack of parchments. They had been discoloured by age, but otherwise seemed unharmed. “If there are answers anywhere, it will be in these.”

“Be careful with them,” cautioned Ned.

“Being sealed in this room must have preserved them,” went on Reed. “The air is so still – water couldn’t have gotten in and the temperature probably didn’t change much in here. Your ancestor might be the one reason we have any records at all.”

But why do we have an ice sword? Jon thought, but didn’t bother saying, because no answers were forthcoming.

Sansa handed her torch to Robb and took some parchment from Howland Reed. With Robb holding the fire close to the documents, Sansa skimmed through the first few pages, murmuring to herself.

Jon went to stand before Ice. A chill seemed to emanate from it. It must be magic, he thought to himself. How else could it have survived all these years, rather than melting away with the summer? It was larger than a great sword, although not by much. Jon wondered if it was heavier or lighter than the Valyrian steel sword. Valyrian steel was already lighter than ordinary steel – was ice lighter again?

“Arya.”

Sansa’s voice cut through the still room, short and brittle. Jon realised that he had been reaching for Ice, and snatched his hand back and away from it. Arya was hurrying to Sansa’s side.

“The Three-Eyed Raven watches us all,” Sansa read aloud. “We cannot hide from him. We don’t know how to escape him.”

Arya stared at Sansa. “They’re talking like -”

“Like they’re scared of the Three-Eyed Raven,” finished Sansa. “But Bran was the Three-Eyed Raven, wasn’t he? He couldn’t have been back in the first Long Night.”

“He wasn’t the first,” said Arya. “That’s why he went north, to learn from the one before him. They must stretch all the way back to the Long Night. But Bran was on our side. Why are they scared of him?”

Sansa scanned the rest of the piece of parchment. “A thousand eyes and one,” she read. “Stay inside the keeps. The Heart Tree can no longer be trusted. He controls the Godswoods.” She looked up. “It’s a letter from an Umber to Winterfell. A warning, apparently.”

“But Bran was trying to stop the Others!” protested Arya, desperation in her voice. “Why would we hide from Bran? Why would they hide from the Three-Eyed Raven?”

Sansa stared around the room with wild eyes. “What if he wasn’t?” she whispered.

“What are you saying, Sansa?” asked Arya, her voice low and dangerous.

“He told us a hundred times over that he wasn’t Brandon Stark anymore, just the Three-Eyed Raven,” said Sansa. “The first time I spoke with him after I came home, do you know what he said to me? He said that I looked beautiful, the first night Ramsay - ” Sansa broke off with a shudder. She wiped a tear furiously from her eyes before she continued. “He didn’t hug me at all. He barely hugged you. Does that sound like Bran to you?”

“Who else would it be?”

“What if…” Sansa licked her lips nervously. “Bran called us ‘sister’ when he sent us back, but he never called us that after he became the Three-Eye Raven. So what if it was Bran, or whatever was left of him, that sent us back, not the Three-Eyed Raven? What if Bran overpowered the rest of the Three-Eyed Raven to send us all back? What if that’s why Ramsay came, too? Because Bran couldn’t control it enough, because he wasn’t truly in control, and he accidentally sent Ramsay with us, because he had technically sworn an oath to me, even if he’d never had any plans of fulfilling it.”

“But then what was the Three-Eyed Raven planning?” asked Arya.

“I don’t know,” said Sansa. “I don’t… But we have an ice sword, here in the crypts, sealed away.”

“It could be a trophy,” said Ned. “The first of the Starks may have taken it from the Others as a prize.”

“Then why seal it away?” fired back Sansa. “We’ve been telling the world winter is coming for thousands of years. If there was any proof that the White Walkers had existed, it was that sword. So why would one of our ancestors be ashamed of a trophy?”

“You’re saying that we got it from – what? A trade?” asked Robb.

“I don’t know!” exclaimed Sansa. “I don’t know. But I think the story is a lot more complicated than what the Three-Eyed Raven told us. I think there’s more to the Others than wanting to destroy the world’s stories.”

“You think the Three-Eyed Raven lied to you all,” said Ned. “What motive could he have for that? Assuming that there is a way to communicate with the Others – because how else could we have made a trade? – why would the Three-Eyed Raven lie to you all? What’s his motive for all of this?”

“The answers, if there are any, will be in these,” said Sansa, holding up her stack of parchments. “We need to read them all before we do anything else.”

Arya gasped, sinking to her knees.

“What?” asked Jon, dropping to his knees beside her. “What is it?”

“If the Three-Eyed Raven is evil…” said Arya. She looked up to meet Sansa’s eyes. “We’ve been meeting in front of the Heart Tree. He knows. He knows everything.”

Arya threw the door to the library tower open and sprinted up the stairs. She could hear voices calling for her, and footsteps following her, but she didn’t pause until she reached the top of the stairs, scanning the room for only half a second.

Maester Luwin was at the front of the room, lecturing from a book, while Bran and Rickon sat next to him. Theon was kneeling next to Bran, saying something to him quietly. Arya ran to Bran’s side, knocking Theon aside in her haste.

“What the fu -” started Theon, before cutting himself off at a look from Luwin.

“Are you okay?” demanded Arya, looking over him for any signs of the Three-Eyed Raven’s influence, like it would be visible.

Bran looked at her, curious but a bit bemused. Good; that was good. Emotions meant that the Three-Eyed Raven hadn’t gotten to him yet. “I’m fine, Arya.”

The footsteps pursuing her stopped at the entranceway. Arya glanced up; Ned was in the doorway, with Robb, Jon and Sansa crowding behind him.

“You’d tell me if you had any strange dreams, wouldn’t you?” pressed Arya. “If you had any dreams about ravens, for instance?”

“Not one,” said Bran. “What’s going on?”

Arya slumped, dragging Bran into a bear hug. “Tell me or Sansa the second you wake up from one, alright? Promise me.”

“I promise,” said Bran, even though it was clear from his voice he had no idea what he was promising.

“Maester Luwin, could you take Rickon to finish his lesson elsewhere?” asked Sansa. “And send Mother and Lady Brienne here, while you’re at it.”

Maester Luwin bowed his head. “Of course, Lady Sansa. Come along, Rickon.”

“What’s going on?” asked Theon, his voice weary. “I thought you were all just going down into the crypts.”

“We were,” said Sansa. “We found documents, and…” Sansa shook her head in disbelief. “A sword made of ice.”

“Like -?” started Theon, unable to say it aloud.

“Like the ones the Others used,” confirmed Sansa. “Uncle Benjen, Lord Umber and Lord Reed are bringing some of them up now, but we’ll have to make return trips – especially since we had to chase after Arya instead of bringing some up for ourselves.”

Arya jutted her chin up, unrepentant. “I had to see Bran.”

Sansa sighed, coming to kneel by Bran herself. “Are you sure, Bran? Sure that you haven’t dreamt of any three-eyed ravens?”

“I swear it,” insisted Bran.

“Wait – Three-Eyed Raven as in Bran?” asked Theon. “I mean, the other Bran.”

“No, not Bran,” said Sansa. “There’s been one more of the Three-Eyed Raven, and – well, let’s wait for Mother and Brienne to arrive, so we don’t have to explain it twice.”

“It is very important that you tell us, Bran,” said Ned, his voice solemn. Bran nodded, wide-eyed, his face beginning to pale. Robb sunk into the chair Rickon had just left, rubbing his face tiredly.

“I can’t believe we might have cocked this all up,” he said, voice muffled by his hands.

“We?” repeated Sansa. “No, this is on Arya and me. You knew nothing. We should have guessed.”

“How could we have guessed?” asked Arya. “He was helping us; he sent us back. How were we to know?”

“But he told us a dozen times -” started Sansa, but was interrupted as the door opened again. Catelyn and Brienne entered, surveying the room quickly.

“Something’s wrong,” stated Catelyn.

“Very wrong,” said Sansa. “Gods, Mother, we might have doomed us all.”

Brienne blanched at Sansa’s words, but Catelyn held firm, her eyes widening only a little. She strode across the room and took up Maester Luwin’s old seat, looking more like a queen in it than Cersei or Daenerys ever had. “Tell me everything.”

“We found documents,” said Ned. “They mentioned the Three-Eyed Raven.”

“What Bran was, in the other time?” checked Catelyn.

“It’s what we thought he was,” said Arya.

“There is more than one Three-Eyed Raven,” explained Sansa. “Bran was taught how to become the Three-Eyed Raven. The line stretches all the way back to the first Long Night.”

“Except that what we read in that parchment didn’t match up with what Bran – or what we thought was Bran – told us,” said Arya. “Whoever it was writing that record, they were scared of the Three-Eyed Raven, as scared of him as they were of the Others.”

“I’m going to be as evil as the Others?” whispered Bran, pulling away from Arya.

“No!” exclaimed Arya. “No. You still saved us, remember? It was you who sent us back.”

“I think that the Three-Eyed Raven is like…” Sansa hesitated. “It’s like a castle, that’s been added to a hundred times over. Maybe more has been added to it than what it began as, but it’s still a castle, you see?” To Bran, she said, “It’s like if they added a Maester’s wing to a castle that had never had one before. You’re the Maester’s wing; you’re the good part.” To the rest of the room, she said, “I think that when we were dying, Bran managed to take what was left of him, inside the Three-Eyed Raven, and sent us back. So it wasn’t the Three-Eyed Raven that sent us back, it was Bran, using the Three-Eyed Raven’s abilities, and he tried to send people back to help us. That’s why Arya and I were told to stop everything, and Brienne and Theon were only told to fulfil their oaths – their oaths to us, to help and protect us.” Sansa paced back and forth across the room. “Except Bran couldn’t fully control it, or maybe the other parts of the Three-Eyed Raven tried to sabotage him, and that’s why Ramsay was sent back, because he did swear an oath to me, even if he never had any intention of fulfilling it.”

“We’ll stop this,” promised Arya. “You’re never going to become part of the Three-Eyed Raven, Bran. I’ll die before it happens.”

“I don’t understand,” cut in Catelyn. “How does this make us doomed?”

“The Three-Eyed Raven can see through the faces of the Heart Trees,” said Arya, “and Sansa and I have been talking in front of the Heart Tree since the first time we woke up back here. The Three-Eyed Raven knows everything.”

“That still doesn’t mean we’re doomed,” said Brienne. “The Three-Eyed Raven, regardless of whether it was Bran or not, was helping us against the Others.”

“Was he?” asked Sansa.

“I’m sorry?” said Brienne.

“What did he do against the Others?” asked Sansa. “He told us that he was what the Others were pursuing, but we don’t have any proof of that. He didn’t tell us much about their movements; he didn’t help Arya or me when we were – he didn’t tell us any information that could have persuaded Daenerys Targaryen sooner or Cersei Lannister at all. What did he do to help us?”

Theon and Brienne sat silent at that, dumbfounded.

“A monster stole our brother’s body,” hissed Arya. “He stole Bran’s body and he’s been spying on us all this time.”

“But none of this means that he was working against us,” pointed out Catelyn.

“What more proof do you need?” demanded Arya.

Catelyn held her hand up. “I believe you,” she said. “But you’re missing several puzzle pieces, such as: what was the Three-Eyed Raven doing, if not helping you? And why do you think he was lying about the Others’ motivation? Why did the First Men go back to using the Godswoods, if they were so scared of the Three-Eyed Raven watching them?”

“We found a sword in the crypts,” said Ned. “It must have been the original Ice, because… because it was made of ice, like the weapons of the White Walkers.” He glanced at Sansa. “I’m still not convinced, but Sansa has suggested it is evidence of a trade.”

“Why hide it?” asked Sansa. “Father says it may be a trophy, but why would our ancestors have hid a trophy? No, I think they had to have been ashamed of it, and that only makes sense if we won it peacefully, somehow – as part of a trade, or as part of a peace agreement, or something. We’ve been warning people of the coming winter for thousands of years, and why would we hide away the proof of the White Walkers’ existence if there wasn’t some kind of shame attached to it?”

“None of that means that we traded with the White Walkers, or that we had any kind of agreement with them,” pointed out Robb. “How would we, anyway?”

“The Night’s Watch deserter said that they spoke to each other,” said Jon. “Maybe our ancestors learnt it, same as we could learn any language.”

“What kind of agreement would we have made?” asked Ned. “There are holes in your theory.”

“But not the inescapable kind,” said Arya. “We might be able to find answers in the crypts.”

“Do you believe Sansa?” asked Catelyn, looking directly at Arya.

“I’m not sure,” said Arya. “All I know is that the Three Eyed Raven isn’t who he said he was, so we can’t trust anything he said. But the Night King didn’t offer any parley…” Nothing fits together, thought Arya in frustration. If the Three-Eyed Raven was a threat, was he the same threat as the Others? Was he a separate threat altogether?

The Old Gods were meant to be the ones living in the weirwoods. Where did they fit into all of this? Did they exist at all, or had it always been the Three-Eyed Raven rustling in the trees, leading people to exactly where he wanted them?

For all of that, though, some things fit far too well for Arya to dismiss them. Sansa’s theory made sense: why else would Ramsay have been sent back? There was no way Ramsay Bolton would have ever even considering helping to stop the Others. If it had been the mistake of a boy who couldn’t fully control his powers, or the deliberate sabotage by someone who could, then the puzzle pieces began to slot together.

“Robb said, once, that the White Walkers now probably aren’t the same as in the Long Night,” said Jon. “Perhaps this Night King is more ruthless than the last.”

“Perhaps,” sighed Ned. “We need more information.”

“But we have enough information to say this: we must be careful in what we say before the Heart Tree,” declared Catelyn. “Avoid it whenever you can.”

“We can’t,” whispered Sansa. She cleared her throat and repeated herself. “We can’t. If we suddenly stop discussing things before the Heart Tree, then he’ll suspect that we know.”

“So we keep feeding him information?” scoffed Arya in disbelief.

“Some,” said Sansa. “Not our most important plans and our secrets, of course. Sometimes we might even deliberately mislead him. But if the Three-Eyed Raven is a threat, we need to keep him unaware that we’re on to him for as long as we can, so he has less time to outmanoeuvre us.”

“Sansa…” Ned shook his head, his forehead creased with worry. “I know that you have played the game of thrones and that you have won, but if all of this is true, than the Three-Eyed Raven will be far beyond anybody else in Westeros. He will have had millennia to plan. It might be best for us to remove ourselves from his game altogether.”

“But we can’t remove ourselves from his game,” argued Sansa, jutting her chin up defiantly. “Don’t you see? Whatever his game is, it has to do with the Others. So long as the Others are marching on us, we are a part of his game. The only option we have is to outplay him.”

#sansa stark #arya stark #ned stark #jon snow #got #fic

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unculturedmamoswine · 6 years ago

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Tortall Daemon AU: Jon

Thanks so much to all of you who liked and rebageled my first post! It was really sweet of y’all! I hope you guys continue to like this AU, even though I think the Daine post might be a bit controversial. Also feel free to request characters! I have a few planned out (the four other lady protagonists, for instance), but I’l do pretty much anybody’s daemons or expand on any aspect of this AU. Anyway, time to talk about Jon!

Jon has a horse

Jon’s daemon, a blue roan mare, is settled by the time he’s introduced as a character. After all, he’s already thirteen, turning fourteen that year, when Alanna comes to Corus. Having such a large daemon is often somewhat problematic, logistically. People in general have larger personal space bubbles in this AU than in real life, due to the ‘no touching daemons’ taboo, and of course you can’t travel far from your daemon so you need to be able to avoid small spaces (and have very sturdy buildings) if you have a big daemon. For the Crown Prince, of course, people are more than willing to make room.

As a warrior, it’s also somewhat inconvenient to have a horse as a daemon. Jon prefers to ride his daemon in battle or for pleasure, but this gives him a certain weakness. Killing the Prince of Tortall is much easier if you only need to kill his mount to get him as well. This would end up being just another reason Jon’s handlers would cite when keeping him away from the real fight, as in In the Hand of the Goddess. Unsurprisingly, this would be infuriating to Jon, who wouldn’t hide it so well. Jon would, however, appreciate being the only one allowed to care for his mount. It would be one of the few things he’s always, always allowed to do himself.

While Jon’s daemon is a source of some of his frustration with his situation as a prince, she’s also a symbol of freedom and rebelliousness, at least from a meta perspective. Horses are tied to ideas of freedom and power, as well as stature. They’re expensive to keep and house, after all. The ones that need to eat, anyway. But also, for the Americans in the crowd, they call up images of the old west, cowboys, shootouts, and answering to no formal law. Until you get hanged. It’s the kind of freedom Jon badly wants, particularly in The Woman Who Rides Like a Man.

But a horse is also a working animal. Horses in the real world are largely extinct as wild animals. “Wild” horses in the US, for instance, are actually feral horses; they’re descended from domestic animals. What I’m getting at here is that horses exist as they do today almost exclusively in relation to, and because of, humans. In Tortall, this would also be the case. I doubt they have feral horses in Tortall (at least, I can’t remember ever hearing about any) so Jon’s daemon’s choice of form would, even if unintentionally, signal his image of himself as someone who belongs to his people. That may seem negative at first, but it ultimately indicates his willingness to put selfish ideas aside and do what is best for Tortall.

As a side note, I think the Bazhir would appreciate a nice piece of horseflesh as a daemon, but obviously the relationship between Jon and the Bazhir is more complex than ‘hey, nice daemon, wanna take over as our spiritual leader?’

So Jon’s horse (ugh, maybe I should just bite the bullet and come up with names for everyone’s daemons) symbolizes both his rebellion from, and his eventual acceptance of, his destiny as king of the realm. Plus, I imagine her as a rather dark gal, so her nice black mane would match Jon’s hair. His canon horse matches, after all, so we gotta make the daemon match at least as much. Too bad it would be weird to describe her on the same level of hotness as Jon, because it would also be kind of funny. “She was just a total babe of a daemon. Like, seriously, the sexiest horse you’ve ever seen.”

Also, in this AU, Jon never buys Darkness from George. He still goes with Alanna when she buys Moonlight, but he has no need of a new horse so George goes ahead and sells Darkness to someone else. This means that Daine never meets Darkmoon in Wild Magic, as the implication is that he’s the descendant of a mixing of Moonlight and Darkness’s lines. But don’t worry, I’m sure Alanna found a very nice stallion to make babies with Moonlight! I like to think she chose a horse from one of the riders of the Bloody Hawk.

By the way, since of course people have no trouble communicating with their daemons, tack is wholly unnecessary for Jon and his daemon, so unless protocol demands, they’d usually forego reins, bit, saddle, etc.

I was originally intending to to Jon and George as one post, but this got long, so we’ll see when I get to him. Thanks for reading!

#tortall #tamora pierce #tortall daemon au #daemons #hdm au

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megsironthrone · 5 years ago

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Updated WIP list!

Current WIPS: (These are subject to change based on my inspiration)

Loyalty: Based on this request: Hi Meg, I‘d like to request a Brienne x northern!reader. They meet when Brienne comes to King‘s Landing, reader is a Lady and an outcast at KL, but her and Brienne start to become close, bonding over their loyalty to the Starks. It gets more intimate, maybe they kiss but Brienne doesn’t want to endanger reader so she distances herself. When Brienne leaves, reader tells her she loves her, but she can’t say it back out of fear. Then later they meet again and she finally tells her?

Love and Affection: Based on this request: Can you do a Sandor clegane x reader established relationship where Sandor gets the love and affection he needs and we all want to give him? Maybe reader is on the affectionate side and Sandor kinda pretends he’s annoyed by it but they both know he likes it ? AND: Sandor Clegane x reader with mostly just cuddling? Idk if he’d ever let someone get that close to him but I can dream🙆🏼‍♀️ Also emotional comfort

From a Lie to the Truth: Based on this request: do you think you could write a modern/fake dating au where reader agrees to pretend to be samwells SO in front of his friends who he lied to about having a girlfriend but they do end up confessing to each other? thank you so much !!

A Drink & a Kiss: Based on this request: Hey Meg, happy to read that you’re well! Can I request a Tyrion x reader? Reader is a Stark, Sansa‘s older sister/Robb‘s twin, supposed to marry a Tyrell while he’s supposed to marry Sansa. Over their shared misery of the arranged marriage they end up spending time together. On the night before, they drink together and kiss. Tyrion is surprised she’d rather be with him than a pretty Tyrell and they manage to convince Tywin that they can marry, because it doesn’t matter which Stark he marries.

Current (Unstarted) Requests on the list:

Disguised: Based on this request: Yara Greyjoy imagine where she finds out one of her trusted soldiers was a woman disguised as a man who had fallen in love with her?

A Thorough Cleaning: Based on this request: Hi Meg could I please ask for a roommates AU with Sansa in which they are trying to make the house presentable last minute because her family is coming to visit? Thank you from @kjs-s

Different Than You Used to Be: Based on this request: Yes! Requests are open! Could you write a jaime x reader. The reader is a robbs twin and was married to jaime before the show/books started. She used to hang out with robb, jon and theon a lot, and she wasn’t that much of a lady. Now she returns to winterfell with the king and she is pregnant, so she is less wild then she used to be. The boys think she has changed and thus treat her differently than they used to, so she shows she can still be her old self and jaime is just worried.

Take You As My Wife: Based on this request: may I please get a Ramsay request where the reader is a stark and they fell in love while he was married to sansa so after sansa leaves he agrees to leave winterfell and go back to the dreadfort if he could have the reader as his wife happy ending please thank you so much for your time i love your blog by the way

A Coronation: Based on this request: Hi! May i request a royal au for jaime lannister x reader. Tywin has died and now jaime is to be king and the reader queen. Could you write about the coronation and what happens around it. Thanks!

Caught In the Act: Based on this request: Gendry x stark reader. When they were traveling the kings road in the second season. And arya catches them kissing.

A Ward of Winterfell: Based on this request: Hello! How are you? would it be alright if i could i get a request for a Baratheon (fem) reader (maybe a legitimized bastard of king Robert’s?) who was sent to be a ward at winterfell to get her away from Cercei and is betrothed to to Robb stark? maybe when the royal family rides for Winterfell she goes back to the capitol with Eddard stark and his daughters and everything starts falling apart? it’s okay if not haha.

For You: Based on this request: I was wondering if you could do a Jaime Lannister x Female Reader imagine based around the song “For You” by Rita Ora ft Liam Payne, if you wouldn’t mind, please and thank you! *If you need to make changes, feel free to do so!* by @thebeckyjolene

Good Cop/Bad Cop: Based on this request: Can you do a Sandor/reader good cop bad cop kind of story line where they are partners but secretly together? Please and thank you!

Take Her Away: Based on this request: Hi! Can I have an imagine where Y/N is Joffrey’s twin (and Jaime’s favorite kid) and during the King’s Landing riot she gets separated and gets hurt, and Jaime’s the one that saves her and when he goes back to the castle he lectures Cersei about the safety of their daughter, threatening to take her away to protect her

To Secure Winterfell: Based on this request: Love your writing, I’m so happy you’re back! ❤️ i was wondering if you could write about Ramsay. How he had to marry y/n to “secure his place” in Winterfell and he actually loves her so he doesn’t hurt her at all, and when Myranda fights with her he gets super protective

Not His Type: Based on this request: Hi how are ya? Can you please write about Tormund arriving in Winterfell with Jon, and he falls in love with smol Y/N Stark, always making sure she’s protected and loved, even though Jon and Sandor remind him constantly that she’s not his type

Out of Harm’s Way: Based on this request: Could you please write about Tommen and Y/N (his same agae) getting married, and when she gets pregnant he very gentle and tries to keep her out of harms way, enlisting “uncle” Jaime to guard her when he’s not around

Don’t Blame Yourself: Based on this request: hey meg 👋🏽 can i have an imagine where y/n tries to safe bran from falling but she gets hurt as well, and a guard rushes to tell robb -he’s her fiancé- and Theon and Jon have to calm him down after he sees her because he’s blaming himself for being there for her to safe her

A Secret Relationship:Based on this request: I have another request about sandor if it’s not much trouble to you. Him and the reader work together and they secretly in a relationship and they act like there’s nothing between them infront of everybody, till Beric accidentally finds out AND: I want to request a really really fluffy fic, about sandor when he comes back from a work trip that lasted for weeks, and be surprised about how much the reader missed him, cuz he is a bit insecure about himself and it’s hard for him to imagine that somebody could love and miss him that much I’ll really appreciate it if you could bring his childhood somehow cuz who doesn’t love a big man with childhood issues??

Smuggled Away: Based on this request: Hi! The request about a Bratheon!reader got me thinking, what if there’s a similar situation where the reader’s king robert’s daughter or a stark or something like that and the reader ends up getting smuggled away when jamie leaves cersei in kings landing and ends up reuniting with jon snow at some point and she kinda ends up kindling a spark with jon snow and interrupts the whole jon Daenerys thing? i’m not sure if this request makes much sense or if it would be good or not > . <

An Awkward Time: Based on this request: Hi! This is the oberyn x reader request. Reader is dating oberyn (who is a bit older). One of his daughters is best friends with sansa (reader’s sister) which makes it a bit awkward for everyone (except for oberyn who doesnt find anything awkward).

Secret Wife: Based on this request: Can you do something with Sandor secretly having a wife. Maybe they met when he was serving king Robert and they met when she was hunting and eloped after a few years. She left before the battle of Blackwater because Sandor didn’t want her getting wrapped up in that so They meet again in Winterfell and no one can actually believe it.

Protected From Joffrey: Based on this request: Hi Meg! Can you please write about Y/N Lannister (who acts and looks like a princess, just like Myrcella) getting in trouble with Meryn Trant because she scolded Joffrey and after he hits her Bronn finds her and takes care of her, and even Tyrion is happy about it

Their Softer Sides: Based on this request: Hey @megsironthrone how are you doing? Hope you’re doing fine. Can I request a Tywinxfem!TargaryenxRoose one where the both of them are in a constant banter concerning on who should end up getting the reader’s hand in marriage only to end up making the reader a blushing mess because of the many unusual and surprising compliments Tywin and Roose made over dinner and eventually the green-gold eyed gentleman finally won her over and end up spooning her in his bed showing his soft side. Thank x from @girlonfireice

Disbelief: Based on this request: May I ask for a reader x Sandor where he and Bronn save her from some not so good people and she and Sandor fall for each other much to Sandor and Bronn’s shock? Happy writing!

An Apology?: A Wattpad request; Hey! I was wondering if you still take requests. If yes could you write a ramsay bolton image for me, where the reader is the younger sister of ramsay and he actually apologizes for killing their dad and after ramsay is killed by sansa his younger sister is the new leader of the boltons.

Jealous of My Own Children!: Another Wattpad request; I would like to know if you would write a Jaime lannister x female reader insert where the reader and jaime are childhood friends who are in love. And the reader supports him even when everyone calls him kingslayer and oath breaker. He and reader have a set of twins a boy and a girl and jaime feels ecstatic that he can play father to the kids however he is also this cute jelous of his kids as they get to spend more time with his wife than him. Basically I just wanted cute fluff. I know the idea isn’t that original but it’s just something that came to my mind so

Direwolf Pup: Based on this request: Hi! I was wondering if you could write about how Y/N is married to Robb (before the series started) and when the guys returned to Winterfell with the direwolf pups he surprises her in one, the second runt of the litter, because he wanted her protected at all times and as an apology for leaving her clingy ass all day 😂❤️

Godmother: Based on this request: Sandor asking Arya to be his babies godmother? You can decide how she reacts but I just need some wholesome hound and wolf girl content. Hi I’m the anon that asked for the Sandor asking wolf girl to be a godmother. I forgot to add trade sorry but I was just imagining it to be after she has her baby so she’s in the room but maybe just asleep or quietly watching cuz she’s tired. Sorry about that

In The North: Based on this request: Hey! If request are still open, is it possible if you can write Sandor x Reader where they had a relationship before they had to part ways and so they get reunited when reader is sent with Jorah by Daenarys to get a white walker, Beric and Thoros is in disbelief that Sandor can be able of loving someone - thanks!

Winterfell: Based on this request: Can I request a Jon Snow x twinsister!reader?? (If not then just a Jon Snow x reader 😊) Where it’s just been them, then Jon left for the NW and his sister stayed in Winterfell. She has stayed at Winterfell through the Greyjoys and Boltons. And they meet again after Jon and Sansa won back Winterfell. Ramsay kept her separate from Sansa so the couldn’t conspire together. Thank you in advance!

Killing Khaleesi: A Wattpad request; Y/n is Cersei’s oldest daughter who always obeys her orders, but when she’s ordered to kill Khaleesi, she can’t, and starts spending time down there, telling her mom she’s making her wait till she least expects it. And then when Y/n walks down there one night, her mom is there, waiting for her and gives her a choice. Either she kills her, or Cersei does. Of course when y/n goes to kill her, she swings around and slices her mom’s leg making her fall down, and she releases Khaleesi and they ride back to where the dragon mother lives.

Not My Daughter!: A Wattpad request; Hi can I make a request on a Joffrey x Baby Daughter! Reader I know it’s not part of the story but if you can? Joffrey doesn’t care about anything or anyone except his daughter and if anyone hurts her or makes her cry he gets into like mama lion mode

The Announcement: Another Wattpad request; it’s a Modern AU with a targaryen reader and Jaime Lannister Where the reader is Dany’s baby sister and she is married to Jaime Lannister, who Dany, Rhaegar and Viserys (they’re all alive here) hate and their families were once business allies until Tywin (Jaime’s dad) betrayed the Targaryens and merged with the Baratheons instead Fast forward to the present day, Jaime and the reader host a dinner because they have an announcement to make, the targaryens and and Lannisters argue about their relationship in general, Viserys said something snarky to Jaime which made the reader snap at him and tell everyone that they are expecting triplets, Dany, Rhaegar and the Lannisters were all happy except viserys who walked out like a drama queen lol

Beauty: Another Wattpad request; can I have a Tywin Lannister x fem!Targaryen where the reader went in hiding in the woods only to be found by Tywin but he has no idea the reader was a female let alone a Targaryen until he accidentally saw her washing her hair in a near by river and he was immediately stunned by her beauty and then he started to be sweet with her in his own charming debonair way and the asks to marry her. Thank you

I update this list as I finish writing requests so check back often! You can find the WIP/Current requests page on my blog!

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azulaahai · 6 years ago

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I Close My Eyes, But She’s Still There

When her older brother fails to return from a voyage to a nearby village, it is up to Sansa Stark to find him again.

A messy Jon x Sansa Beauty and the Beast AU based on the Disney movie(s) for @miazeklos for this round of the @jonsaexchange - I really hope you enjoy it! ♥ Title, of course, from the song ”Evermore” on the movie soundtrack.

You can also read this on ao3.

* * *

T H E B E A U T Y

It will have to be her, Sansa thinks, as she mounts the horse, the old leather of the saddle creaking in protest as she straddles it.

There’s no one else left.

They’ve been scraping by, her family, doing what they could to keep above water. Losing father was unbearable, the loss and grief threatening to undo them. But losing mother, not a year thereafter … that was almost impossible.

That winter brought them close to starvation - Sansa and Robb went without food for days so that Arya, Bran and Rickon could eat. They had few friends in the village, the Stark always having been viewed as peculiar, worshipping other gods and keeping other customs than the rest of the villagers. In the coldest weeks of winter, they all fell ill with fever. Rickon, baby Rickon, was in the worst shape, and for a few days there Sansa was sure they would lose him too.

But Rickon had made it through the peak of the fever, shiny Stark-grey eyes blinking awake in the morning, and Sansa had thanked whatever gods that must still have been hearing her prayers.

And spring had come again, as surely and suddenly as winter had snuck up on them - the drives of snow had begun thawing, the cold winds softened their touch, the early flowers sprung up where there had been ice weeks before. Arya went out without her furs. Hope, that treacherous beast, began spurring in Sansa again. With spring here, the roads would once more be safe for travels - they could trade with neighbouring villages, as their parents had - sell furs and handiworks of Sansa’s making, grow vegetables in the garden again.

It had all looked so heartbreakingly bright, there, for a while. Robb had set out on his first trading journey with a broad, victorious grin on his lips, and they’d all been there to wave him off as he went in the carriage, Grey Wind, their beautiful silvergrey gelding, pulling Robb and their goods off on an adventure.

And then came the waiting.

First, he was a day or two late. It was easy to brush off, to explain to Rickon, who threw a fit when Robb wasn’t home on time - their brother could simply have decided to stay longer in the other village for whatever reason, or have been delayed on the road. He’d be home anytime now, for sure.

But he wasn’t.

On the third day a terrified Grey Wind, without the carriage and sweating profusely, galloped into the garden, large dark eyes stirring white.

And Sansa’s world came crashing down once more.

A cloud of steam rises as she exhales in the early morning - a chilly bite remains in the air, though spring has come for true now.

She is following her brother’s trail, Grey Wind uneasy beneath her as they set off into the woods. The landscape lays quiet around them, the silence broken only by the occassional bird or snapping tree branch.

No one is there to see them go - only Arya knows she’s leaving, and she’s still sleeping inside with their little brothers. Her sister begged and demanded that Sansa let her go find Robb in her stead. Arya is the fiercest of the two, no doubt about it, and by far the superior rider - but with Robb and their parents gone, Sansa’s the eldest, responsible for the others. She could never send Arya off to an unknown danger.

And if she’s to never return, their brothers would likely fare better with Arya, she-wolf with teeth and claws, to protect them, than Sansa with her songs and stories.

* *

The ride is hard, at least on her untrained body; Sansa’s legs are sore after a mere half hour. Grey Wind is not his usual calm, reliable self - he’s taut as a bow string beneath the saddle, freezing or jumping to the side at every small noise. They keep a humble pace, trotting along the forest trail. Not a single man or creature is in sight, save a bunny that flees when it spots them and a bird flying up from the bushes, giving Grey Wind a fright.

There’s something strange in the air, Sansa reflects with a shiver; the air seems to have grown colder. Snow remains in the ditches on the side of the trail, and Sansa must be imagining it, but it almost seems as though the amount of it increases the further into the forest they travel.

The silence, too, seems to grow louder in here among the trees, more piercing. Sansa hasn’t been this deep into the woods for years, but the forest she remembers from her childhood, when she used to ride in the back of her father’s carriage, was not at all this quiet. It’s as if nature itself is holding it’s breath.

* *

When Grey Wind wants to trail off track into the woods the first time, she stops him with a pull on the reins. The horse, behaving highly out of character, ignores her command, continuing on the small path he’s found. Sansa, equally annoyed and scared as she gazes into the dimness of the forest ahead, half-dark even during the day, urges him to turn back.

Instead, he increases their pace as he sets off into the woods, breaking into a trot, then a canter, dark silhouettes of trees whirling by on both sides as Sansa desperately pulls on the reins to hold the horse back.

Grey Winds does not heed her commands, nor her shouts as their speed turns reckless. Snow lies thick on the ground here, though Sansa has no time to dwell on that. The horse has lost his mind, it appears - fear flutters through her. She does not notice the trees beginning to thin out around her, knows nothing but the sound of hooves hitting snow at a mad pace and her own primal fear telling her she’s a second or so from death. Sansa presses her eyes shut, not wanting to see the end as it hits her -

And then - suddenly - salvation.

Grey Wind suddenly slows down, steam rising from him in the cold, Sansa sees as she hesitantly opens her eyes again.

The cold, yes - so unforgiving now, cutting through Sansa’s thick woolen cloak as were it cotton.

The horse’s pace gradually decreasing, until he’s walking calmly again, he bows his head and snorts, as if in apology for his temporary outbreak of madness.

And that’s when Sansa realizes there are no trees surrounding them anymore.

That’s when she sees the castle.

* *

T H E B E A S T

It has been a long, long time since he’s seen people.

And now there’s two of them in a matter of days.

He hears voices, as he moves up the stairs, echoing in the tower like a beautifully twisted melody.

”Robb!?” a bright, melodious one exclaims. Is that the name of his prisoner? Jon has not bothered learning it.

His steps feel heavy.

”Sansa?” is heard next, in the deep voice he’s come to recognize as the prisoner.

They know each other, then.

”You have to leave, Sansa”, says the prisoner, and Jon grinds to a halt in the stairs.

They’re afraid of him.

Of course.

Why wouldn’t they be?

He begins moving up the steps again, quicker. No more of this, no more strange people in his castle. He prefers to mope in solitude.

There comes more talking from up in the tower, lower now; Jon can’t make out the words. He steps up the last few steps in a rage, angry to be disturbed, angry to be feared.

He steps into the tower room and there she is.

Red hair, glistening blue eyes. She does not cry out when she sees him - that is to her credit. But she flinches away as he steps into the light, and the revulsion written across her features stings.

The prisoner stands on the other side of the bars of the cell, looking ready to break out just to stand between Jon and this woman.

”What is the meaning of this?” Jon roars, in that voice that still isn’t quite his.

”Who are you?” the girl breathes, still taken aback.

”Given that it is my castle, it is I who should be asking you that.”

”I’m here for my brother.” She straightens her shoulders, a quiet defiance in her eyes as they meet his. To his surprise, hers don’t have fear as much as vigilance in them.

In the cell, her brother begins speaking to him, both pleading and demanding at the same time. ”Let her leave. She has done you no wrong. Let her go. Sansa”, he says to the girl. She looks at him despairingly, and for a second, Jon feels …

Strange.

”Sansa, leave now”, the prisoner says. ”Go home …”

”Not without you.” There’s tears in those eyes now. Jon takes a step back without thinking.

The girl turns to him then, accusation written across her features.

”By what right do you hold him here?”

”He trespassed on my land”, Jon grunts. ”Slept in a room in my castle.”

”Sansa”, the prisoner says again. ”Go. Now.”

”And what would it take for you to release him?” Desperation in those sky-blue eyes.

Jon snorts, and the sound startles her. He hates it, hates the way he is a monster -

but he is.

A beast.

”Your brother is imprisoned for a crime. I will not release him. If you leave here now and swear never to return, I shall grant you leave this once.”

”Sansa”, comes from the prisoner again. ”Leave. Please.”

* *

T H E B E A U T Y

Robb is pleading with her from his cell, the beast before her turning to leave, thinking the matter settled. But in Sansa’s mind, an idea has hatched - a plan vaguely beginning to form.

It’s rather mad. Not at all like her.

But she thinks of her younger brothers back in the cottage. They’ll almost be ready for bed, now - twilight’s just around the corner. She thinks of Arya - angry and frightened and strong. She’ll probably be up all night, waiting for someone to come home.

They don’t need me, Sansa thinks. The thought both hurts and relieves her. Not as they need Robb.

And so she calls out to the beast.

”And if I wish to take his place as prisoner?”

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa fic #jonsaexchange #I'm so sorry about this it's a fucking mess #the deadline snuck up on me #akjfkhdkjhfkjshdf

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armageddon-generation · 7 years ago

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The C-Lister’s Club

(The Fall and Rise of Booster Gold)

AU where the major Justice League characters all sacrificed themselves saving the earth.

Only C-list heroes are left, who are only effective against major threats with government support. These heroes become unwitting propaganda figures

Booster Gold is the only one onboard with this (he’s finally getting the fame he’s always wanted)

Hero work essentially becomes a warped kind of reality TV show business

Booster’s publicists manipulate his naivety and vanity to get him to rat on heroes that start fighting against the system and doing ‘unscripted’ hero work

Eventually Booster becomes the new system’s figurehead, their equivalent of Superman (Finally! he thinks)

His publicists begin rewriting history so Booster is given credit for the old Justice League’s greatest achievements

The other heroes are given the option to get with the programme or retire. Blue Beetle retires and becomes a recluse in his mansion, Plastic Man becomes a bum because his criminal record stops him holding a steady job

All this time, without any other heroes to give him a reality check, Booster is in his happy bubble of luxury and celebrity, willingly unaware of the totalitarianism he is being used to create.

The government replaces his robot buddy with an audience tested new model, who is ridiculously chipper and doubles as Booster’s butler (which he loves)

They even create a parody of the Super Freinds cartoon with Booster as the lead character. There’s an awkward moment when he has to do publicity photo shoots with an actor dressed as Blue Beetle (whom he has been avoiding since his retirement)

He keeps chasing validation (awards, medals, licensing deals, public adoration) because he’s convinced they will finally make him happy. Finally make him feel heroic.

But they never do, and he slowly sinks into depression.

All this time the next generation of the Justice League (Damian Wayne, Jon Kent, Emiko Queen, Mar’i Grayson etc) have gone underground and are attempting to fight the system

They have to sacrifice their civilian identities and become full time ‘terrorists’ (like how people see Rorschach in Watchmen).

Booster starts to drift. On a whim he tracks down his ancestors in this time and finds a broken family of washouts and nobodies. They remind him too much of who he was before he travelled back in time from the future, and seem to confirm to him that all his fame is pointless and he will always be a loser

Booster’s life becomes a cycle of public appearances, increasingly rare (and fake) heroics and meaningless relationships he destroys to punish himself. Occasionally, just to twist the knife a little deeper, he’ll stalk his ancestors from afar (he has a government detail monitoring them at all times) and watches them fall apart

The government (who slowly confiscated all superhuman related substances when the League died) start adding an infusion of Poison Ivy’s mind control spores to government-approved food and drink they advertise with Booster’s face

Skip forward a few years and the new Justice League mounts an assault on Booster Gold’s penthouse, expecting to defeat him and force him to make a public address and denounce the totalitarian government

Instead they find an uncaring asshole with substance addictions and self destructive tendencies

Booster’s only ‘freind’ is his robot butler, but only because the robot is programmed to tell him exactly what he wants to hear

The government haven’t actually used Booster for hero work in months; they’ve begun using Brother Eye satalites (converted from old ARGUS satalites) to control random members of the population (using the additive in government approved foods), imbue them with powers and dress them up like Booster. This is a test run for widespread mind control

This infuriates the new League. Damian in particular, who has grown to dearly love his civilian life in its absence, starts hitting Booster, demanding he fight back. Damian hates Booster for forcing him to become the full-time terrorist (and perceived monster) the League of Assassins wanted him to be

Booster doesn’t fight back and the others have to pull Damian off him and flee: They’ve wasted months planning to take down a useless figurehead

Booster goes to see his ancestor family to punish himself, but accidentally ends up having a conversation with their youngest member, a curious ten year old girl (his great great about twenty other greats grandmother)

They end up pulling him into their house for dinner, and he realises he had them pegged wrong: the family are trying to pull themselves back together, and seem to genuinely care about each other

This experience (and the Justice League meeting) shakes Booster enough that he goes to visit Blue Beetle (whom he’s been avoiding talking to since he retired)

Booster has to break through BB’s advanced security, and the experience reminds him (unwillingly) of hero work

He still gets caught in a trap; BB doesn’t want to see him after what he did)

(Think of BB as like George Clooney’s character from Tomorrowland)

Booster is stubborn and they keep playing this game for days: getting through the grounds of BB’s mansion is like a huge hi-tech assault course

With each run of the course Booster gets closer BB’s front door, ignoring the constant orders to give up and go away- he is convinced that if he gets to the front door he will be able to mend their friendship

(Think of this like Tom Cruise in Edge of Tomorrow - repetition again and again, being creamed again and again)

When he eventually does get to the door Booster is angry and confused when BB still refuses to open up

Booster wants to apologise for what he did but BB says that’s not enough - Booster is caught up in his Hollywood fantasy, the real world doesn’t have clean endings like that. He has to live with the shitty thing he did. Actions speak louder than words

Booster still refuses to leave and sleeps on the porch, but eventually has to admit defeat and goes back home.

Booster tries talking to His ridiculously chipper robot butler, but for the first time actively realises how unfulfilling their conversations are

Instead goes off (in disguise) to private therapy. He acts like this should be a huge honour for the therapist. Who is his therapist? None other than Carrie Kelly, Damian Wayne’s old therapist

Carrie takes none of Booster’s bullshit and initially he storms out of their sessions

Unfortunately for Booster, all the other therapists are too intimidated by his connections to the government to be effective at their jobs - their conversation is just as bad as the robot butler’s

So he and Carrie are stuck with each other. They don’t get on, and Booster mostly tries to hide weakness with ego and humour

Slowly, Carrie begins to challenge his perceptions of the world and himself. She is secretly still a rebel and reports about Booster to the new Justice League

The League ignore this (Booster is a nobody and they are concerned with the government’s new mind controlling satalites)

Booster’s new routine becomes filled with therapy and visiting the family of his ancestors

Listening to his stories as he starts to open up and be more honest with her, Carrie has the idea for Booster to write a memoir that tells the truth about himself and his life, thereby exposing the lies the government are telling the world

Carrie becomes Booster’s ghost writer and making the book forces Booster to re-evaluate himself

His family is viewed differently in comparison to the ancestors he is now good friends with - he begins to appreciate the simple life he had before he traveled back in time

He begins to recognise that exterior validation won’t make him happy, though he still has a hang up over trying to convince Carrie that he was an innocent victim, and deep down he’s a good person

Comes back to what BB told him about actions outweighing words. Booster’s conscience sounds like BB’s voice in his head, but over the course of his therapy the voice begins to sound like Carrie

Carrie is like no-one he’s talked to in years. A rebellious punk who genuinely cares about people, doesn’t give a shit about her appearance and has a scathing intelligent wit the plastic idiots he’s used to can’t touch

Between her friendship and his adopted family (whom he now views as a chance to undo his mistakes with his real family, and to whom he has become a zany uncle figure, showing how his feel-good Hollywood mentality hasn’t disappeared) Booster is the happiest he’s been for years ...

... so of course he fucks it all up. Because Carrie is the only person who really understands Booster, he becomes reliant on her. He mistakes that reliance for attraction and makes a move on her

Carrie (of course) has none of this and kicks Booster out of her office. This is the first time Booster has been refused something he truly wanted in years. He also hasn’t cared about something this much, so it stings twice as much. AND it brings back memories of Blue Beetle, his best friend, turning him away at the front door

In a fit of pettiness Booster takes the only digital copy of the manuscript of his memoir with him, so Carrie can’t even use that against the government

Booster runs to his ancestors family for comfort, but they also turn him away, furious. They have just found out about the government tail Booster put on them for years and want him as far away from their children as possible

Booster flees home and relapses into binge drinking and skim reads Carrie’s bitingly honest ghost-written memoir of him

He becomes fixated on his old robot companion Skeets, the only friend he thinks hasn’t betrayed him yet.

On a bender, Booster locates Skeets in an old government storage facility, takes him home and reactivates him.

Booster uploads his memoir into Skeet’s memory banks and, still drunk, rants to him about how cruel the world is

Skeets counters each of his complaints with intelligent logic, but this only infuriates Booster further.

As a last resort Skeets begins projecting old news footage of the original Justice League saving lives onto the wall. This is the first time Booster has seen the unaltered footage in years and he breaks down.

There he is, head on the table, weeping, when Booster hears his own voice over Skeets’ speakers. It’s a tiny story, a few minutes long, about a family he saved from a fire back when he was a C-Lister. Hardly important compared to the big stuff. But Skeets reminds him that family is alive because of him. He was a real hero once.

At this point Damian Wayne breaks into Booster’s house. Damian has heard Booster tried to force himself on Carrie and is here to kill him.

Booster is out of practice and barely holds Damian off: he is only saved when Jon Kent arrives to stop the fighting, though he makes it clear he’s there for Damian’s sake, not Booster’s

At this point, Booster’s government-built robot butler walks in to investigate what is causing all this noise. The robot sees Skeets, who should be in storage, projecting an illegal newsreel on the wall, and Booster talking to the two most wanted terrorists in the world.

The robot attacks. Booster and Skeets (who know how it works) destroy it and save Damian and Jon.

Before it gets destroyed the robot sends out an alert about Booster being an enemy of the government

Remembering the government detail he ordered on his ancestors, Booster and Skeets race off to save his family from a danger he put them in.

Jon and Damian follow Booster. Together they save the family and Jon peesuades Damian to help the family go into hiding

The look on the youngest girl’s face looks exactly like the family Booster saved from the fire in the news footage Skeets showed him, and this is the first time Booster feels genuinely proud of himself in years.

Booster comes up with a plan to get his memoir (which is in Skeets’ data banks) out to the public

He returns to Blue Beetle’s mansion with the new Justice League in tow. He is now backing up his words with actions, so Blue Beetle lets them in. There is still no easy reconciliation; BB is suspicious and pointedly ignores Booster, talking only to League.

They use BB’s tech genius to hijack the government’s mind controlling Brother Eye satalites and use them to beam Booster’s memoir straight into the head of everyone on Earth, exposing the government’s lies

Booster also adds a promise to make it up to everyone he hurt

This doesn’t spark a rebellion as Booster had (big headedly) assumed, but now the people have two versions of the truth in their heads and the freedom to choose which they believe in.

Blue Beetle takes advantage of this and beams a message from the resistance to the people to galvanise rebellion. This is Booster’s big moment: he recognises that this isn’t all about him and lets the new Justice League take the lead

Booster now feels very exposed: Carrie’s brutally honest telling of his life story has been read by all his new allies. He is suprised when instead of judging him for what he did they trust him quicker for this honesty.

The new Justice League now has enough of a foothold in the public consciousness to rally more allies, and they begin an all out war against the totalitarian government

To his surprise, Booster becomes the emotional rock of this team; all the new members begin paying his honesty back in kind and confide all their deepest fears in him. Only Blue Beetle keeps his distance

The new League members holding Booster up as the reason for them joining up becomes too much for Booster because it’s too close to the way the government used him as a propaganda figurehead. Everyone has a story of oppression, and Booster is painfully aware that those stories are his fault.

Booster starts to spiral again , but Blue Beetle arrives to pull him out of his pit and take him away

“Where are we going?” / “You need a therapist.”

BB deposits Booster in a room where Carrie Kelly is waiting (whom the Justice League has just fake kidnapped)

At first Booster is incredibly awkward but Carrie is much more forgiving than BB and is proud of his progress. They resume therapy

Together Booster and Carrie save the Justice League; Booster as their emotional support, Carrie as their therapist

One day (with Jon’s support/gentle bullying) they even get Damian to open up about missing his family and his civilian life

Booster teaches the new recruits (the old C-listers like Plastic Man) to prioritise the kind of work they were doing before the old League died (damage control and saving civilians) over everything else. They can’t hurt the mind controlled civilians the government throw at them.

Slowly, Blue Beetle starts to talk to him again, until one day Booster is fighting next to him again. Trust is back

Embrace their small-time roots

And there is a global war between the growing Resistance against waves of superpowered mind controlled civilians (Think the World War Z zombies) and the next generation of the Justice League lead them to victory and are the heroes everyone names, but Booster Gold is the hero everyone knows but no-one needs to name.

And he is (close enough) to happy

#dc comics #au #booster gold #justice league #fanfiction #my writing #blue beetle #damian wayne #jon kent #carrie kelley #dystopia #basically 1984 meets Hunger Games #i canabalised bojack horseman #how did i get here

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janiedean · 7 years ago

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euryalus ha risposto al tuo post “It is one thirty A.M.... TIME FOR AU HEADCANONS. Reincarnation AU...”

Have you thought of writing how Theon meets Robb in this universe?

I technically hadn’t but why the hell not I’m on a roll.

premise: this happens when the internet is a thing but facebook and social media are not let’s say early 2000s

“Jon, I don’t really think it’s a good idea.”

“Do you have any better ones? Because we’ve looked for a long time and at this point it’s obvious they aren’t in London. Or England. Or - well, Davos has checked, and Stannis has checked, and there’s nothing here.”

Theon stares at the Deviantart page open in front of them.

With all of his drawings ready to upload, if he chooses to do so.

“I don’t - I mean, I get it, but do you really think they would - what if they don’t have the internet?”

“At least we’ll have tried. And come on, it’s good drawings, if people don’t know what’s behind them. Which is a surprise, coming from you, but -”

“Oh, shut your hole. Fine. Fine.”

He renames the entire album red wedding cycle. He flags it as original art, because what the hell should he do, say it’s historical re-enactment? Or whatever you call it these days.

Then he writes down, something that’s been on my mind for a long time.

Hopefully it’s enough to make anyone who knows realize what’s going on.

He sighs and looks at the mouse.

“Do you need me to hold your hand or what?”

“Fuck you,” Theon says, and uploads the damned pictures.

Hopefully it’s going to work.

Robb knows he shouldn’t be doing this.

Except that he also knows no one else in his family remembers - not yet, anyway - and he’s not in a hurry to tell them.

Hell, he kind of hopes they never do.

Too bad that he does, and he also would really like to know where the hell Jon is in this world, and a lot of other people, as well.

Which is why whenever he goes to the town’s library - no internet at home yet, they can’t afford it with seven people in the household - he might spend time looking... his old self up. Or anything related to his old self.

It hasn’t worked until now. And he feels horribly morbid as he types red wedding on the google search bar. It hasn’t showed anything yet, not that he doubts it -

But today there’s a new result on top of the page.

Robb has no bloody clue of what deviantart is, but it has to be somewhere people post their drawings online, he figures from the name.

He clicks on the link, his fingers slightly trembling.

And then he feels like someone’s punched him in the gut because -

Because that’s him, but there’s Theon next to him, and sure as hell Robb knows that he wasn’t there the first time round. He swallows and reads down further.

something that’s been on my mind for a long time.

Oh.

He has a feeling he might not have been so mistaken about Theon, back in the day, if he’s drawn their death (that never happened) some fifteen times.

He checks the profile - indeed, the username is whatisdeadmayneverdie. He’ll eat his own hat if it’s not Theon.

He looks at where the profile is from. London. Well, not too far from Ireland, at least.

He takes a deep breath, makes a profile on that same website figuring that it’d just be more convenient, and then opens the last drawing of the series.

He breathes in.

Theon? He types. If it’s you, we need to talk.

Then he clicks send.

Dublin Airport is smaller than the one they left from, Theon thinks, but it looks fairly nice. At least they won’t get lost.

Also, he’s still freaking out that since he is old enough to travel alone and Jon’s technically not he’s coming with under his responsibility, which had made Davos laugh a lot when they had to finalize buying the tickets, but the man has a job and couldn’t come with them, and anyway, Theon has a feeling they should deal with this themselves.

Still. It’s fucking weird.

“Just don’t disappear on me or anything,” he mutters.

“I’m not five, Theon, just so you remember.”

“Well, you’re not old enough that if anything happens to you I am fucked, so just don’t. Right. That’s the exit. Shit, I need a drink.”

“It’s eleven AM, you don’t.”

Theon would really like to say that no, he does, but he huffs and checks that his passport is where it’s supposed to be, and when he raises his eyes Jon is nowhere to be seen, damn him and -

Oh. He’s running ahead. And he’s just slammed straight into someone else who’s not so casually grabbing at Jon’s shoulders tight enough to hurt, and that someone else has bright auburn hair and -

Oh.

Theon just waits behind Jon and hears what’s absolutely and without any room for mistakes Robb’s voice telling him something about wearing black and whatnot - well, Jon is wearing black all things considered - and then they move apart even if Jon’s hand is still clinging to Robb’s wrist and then Robb’s looking at him with those same blue eyes, all over again, and he thinks it’s too much. He’s never going to survive the next four days never mind the next ten minutes.

“Hey,” he says, “it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Which is probably the fucking lamest thing he could have come up with.

“It has,” Robb says, but he’s smiling and he doesn’t look angry at all and a moment later he’s moved from behind Jon and has thrown his arms around Theon’s waist too without hesitating and shit, shit, shit -

“And by the way,” Robb says, “no one should have died the way I did, but I can appreciate the intent.”

“Did you grow a sense of humor or what,” Theon blurts, and then Robb’s laughing, Jon’s snorting as well and throwing his arms around them both and Theon really doesn’t give a damn anymore.

And if Jon will spend the next year gloating because he had the idea of posting those drawings on the internet, Theon’s just going to let him.

#jon snow #theon greyjoy #robb stark #euryalus #my fic #WHAT AM I EVEN DOING HERE #reincarnation time #HERE YOU GO #x2

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thatsnotcanonpodcasts · 5 years ago

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Mandalorian, Wormholes & Two Shitties

Welcome back to another fun filled episode from those irascible Nerds we all look forward to each week. Oh, and what a show we have for you all, let me tell you. What, hurry up you say, well then. First up we have DJ giving us an update on the Marvel movies failing to impress and the arguments have continued. This week we have some delusional moron, believe me you will agree that they are a moron when you hear what they have done. Oh right, well this delusional moron says what has got to be the dumbest thing and the biggest lie in history. It sets Buck off like all the fireworks for New Year’s Eve in one go. My goodness, he really tears into this one like nothing before. If you listen in just to hear him rant about some misguided fool then you will love this one, plus you might learn a few new insults.

Next up, after he catches his breathe Buck tells us about how some scientists believe they have figured out how to identify the existence of Wormholes. That’s right we said Wormholes. Those supposed mythical sci-fi tunnels through time and space purportedly linking us to the farthest reaches of the universe? Multiverse? Dimensional gateways? Well who knows, the gravity is more then we can fathom at this time. But it is something to do with that….Ahh, almost had me there. You will have to listen in to hear what and how the physicists think they can determine whether or not a wormhole exists.

Then we move to a legendary tale for inspiration in what we have crappily dubbed “A Tale of Two Shitties!” Sorry, couldn’t resist the sloppy pun, messy though it is, haha, that just plopped out. Anyway, we look at two epically bad mistakes from two different games studios and have a laugh and cry at the stupidity and hubris involved. These tales of woe and calamity are similar but different, and for one we will cheer and hope. The other we will jeer and poke, fun of naturally. Now, since we have you so excited to know this tale of misfortune we invite ye to listen further to the tale in yonder episode.

Finishing off as always with the regular shout outs, remembrances, birthdays, and special events of interest. We also wish to invite you all to come join us at Supanova in Brisbane on Saturday 9th November. We do not have the faintest idea of which table we will be at, other than it is the TNC productions booth. So come along and say hi, join us in our game and meet the goofballs that are the Nerds. As always take care of yourselves, look out for each other and stay hydrated.

EPISODE NOTES:

Scorsese update and The Mandalorian details - https://collider.com/martin-scorsese-marvel-movies-theyre-a-new-art-form/

- https://boundingintocomics.com/2019/10/24/jon-favreau-on-star-wars-and-the-mandalorian-through-stories-we-express-our-values-to-the-next-generation/

How to find a wormhole

- https://www.technology.org/2019/10/28/how-to-spot-a-wormhole-if-they-exist/

- https://journals.aps.org/prd/abstract/10.1103/PhysRevD.100.083513

A Tale of Two Shitties

- https://www.eurogamer.net/articles/2019-01-28-the-fall-of-swedish-game-wonder-starbreeze

- https://www.forbes.com/sites/paultassi/2019/10/24/fallout-76s-premium-private-servers-are-not-private-its-scrap-box-is-deleting-scrap/#4999a5257386

Games currently playing

Professor

– Call of Duty: WWII - https://store.steampowered.com/app/476600/Call_of_Duty_WWII/

Rating – 7/10

Buck

– Call of Duty: WWII - https://store.steampowered.com/app/476600/Call_of_Duty_WWII/

Rating – 8/10

- Warframe - https://www.warframe.com/landing

Rating - 3.5/5