#arianne has eyes you fools

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

honestly, the more i think about it the more certain i become that winds of winter and specifically the kings landing plot/vale/gc plot will significantly parallel the dance of the dragons (mainly the end of the dance).

others have already made great metas on this lol

i think cersei’s downfall will resemble alicent’s. im sad but certain that both tommen and myrcella will be killed (maybe paralleling aegon and rhaenys deaths?). i’m kind of hoping the sand snakes will go through character development and not choose revenge… but i kind of doubt it. i’m sure that cersei will definitely break down even further tho. that’ll be interesting and horrifying to read.

tommen will certainly die first, leading to myrcella being crowned. i think it’s likely that tommen is killed by the sand snakes, but i think myrcella will be killed during the fall of kings landing to (f)aegon. i wonder if the sand snakes try protecting her and fail?

i highly doubt that dorne is going to join (f)aegon. i think arianne will see the truth and will be able to successfully maneuver her way back to dorne. (tho i think she’ll have a run in with aurane which would be cool to read). however, (f)aegon will think that arianne is on his side. i’m worried that lady lance wont leave with the dornish party tho…

anyways, after the fall of kings landing cersei will likely be locked up as she won’t be considered a threat. but this won’t be enough to stop the crazy that will be childless cersei.

the high sparrow will certainly support (f)aegon.

i’m 50/50 on whether margaery marries again. i am worried that margaery will get jaehaera’d :/. i think it’s certain that she’ll be held hostage tho. what if she goes the helaena route… yikes… that’s a sad thought.

at this point in time i think the starks will hold winterfell once again and the freys will have be destroyed. the tullys will probably hold the riverlands again.

euron will be causing absolute havoc in the reach.

i think the vale plot in winds will resemble what happens during the dance. harry and robin will both probably die, so i think littlefinger, who’d be in trouble at that point, would try to gain power through sansa. so i think the knights of the vale will make their way to kings landing with sansa with the intent of making her queen.

this is where the tourney at ashford theory comes into play. though jonsas have it completely wrong, as (f)aegon will be the one taking the place of prince valarr. i’m a bit iffy about sansa marrying (f)aegon due to sansa’s marriage to tyrion… but it could be annulled i suppose? but would the high sparrow do that? i think it’s possible.

i wonder what will happen to trystane and the sand snakes tho? i do think that the sand snakes are savvy enough to be able to escape on their own but trystane worries me :(. and he’s gonna be devastated by myrcellas death.

anyways if the plot does move in this direction then i totally expect to read many littlefinger vs varys showdowns.

this will definitely be a false dawn tho. euron will likely be making his way to kings landing and i’m fairly certain that he will sit on the iron throne at some point. bet this is when cersei is able to rise again.

i’ll admit that this prediction for winds has many holes in it. i may be misremembering some stuff as well and i likely haven’t considered all variables either, so take everything i just stated as a vague prediction.

some questions i’m asking myself rn lol: would the tyrell army go down that easily (or maybe varys friends in the reach will help the golden company win the battle?)? will sweet robin really die :(? baelish won’t be able to try and take back the north bc the starks will hold it once again, and going north would mean definitely giving up his hold over sansa… so wouldn’t trying to make sansa the new queen make more sense? since he’d still be able to isolate her and she’d likely need to depend on him? but wouldn’t going to kings landing again be dangerous for him? well if his and varys interests line up then maybe not… but would the knights of the vale follow him? i guess if both harry and robin died then they’d be totally lost too…

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

TWOW: Arianne I

On the morning that she left the Water Gardens, her father rose from his chair to kiss her on both cheeks. "The fate of Dorne goes with you, daughter," he said, as he pressed the parchment into her hand. "Go swiftly, go safely, be my eyes and ears and voice… but most of all, take care."

Probably the last time she sees her father.

+.+.+

Seven of them set out together on seven Dornish sand steeds. A small party travels more swiftly than a large one, but the heir to Dorne does not ride alone. From Godsgrace came Ser Daemon Sand, the bastard; once Prince Oberyn's squire, now Arianne's sworn shield. From Sunspear two bold young knights, Joss Hood and Garibald Shells, to lend their swords to his. From the Water Gardens seven ravens and a tall young lad to tend them. His name was Nate, but he had been working with the birds so long that no one called him anything but Feathers. And since a princess must have some women to attend her, her company also included pretty Jayne Ladybright and wild Elia Sand, a maid of ten-and-four.

Providing you some additional background information.

+.+.+

War is happening, thought Arianne, and this time Dorne will not be spared. "Doom and death are coming," Ellaria Sand had warned them, before she took her own leave from Prince Doran. "It is time for my little snakes to scatter, the better to survive the carnage." 

Truer words have never been spoken.

Great strategy too! While the circumstances were less than ideal, the Starklings being scattered all over Westeros is the only reason four of them managed to survive this long. Plot armour also helps.

+.+.+

Dayne was her most grievous sin, the one that Arianne most regretted. With one stroke of his sword, he had changed her botched plot into something foul and bloody. If the gods were good, by now Obara Sand had treed him in his mountain fastness and put an end to him.

Hmm, doubt that.

+.+.+

She said as much to Daemon Sand that first night, as they made camp. "Be careful what you pray for, princess," he replied. "Darkstar could put an end to Lady Obara just as easily." "She has Areo Hotah with her." Prince Doran's captain of guards had dispatched Ser Arys Oakheart with a single blow, though the Kingsguard were supposed to be the finest knights in all the realm. "No man can stand against Hotah."

Remember, that side quest is based on a Doran Martell lie. Therefore, there's no shot Darkstar, Areo Hotah, Balon Swann, and Obara Sand being in the Red Mountains together will go well.

+.+.+

Poison, thought Arianne. Yes. Pretty poison, though. That was how he'd fooled her. Gerold Dayne was hard and cruel, but so fair to look upon that the princess had not believed half the tales she'd heard of him. Pretty boys had ever been her weakness, particularly the ones who were dark and dangerous as well. That was before, when I was just a girl, she told herself. I am a woman now, my father's daughter. I have learned that lesson.

[...] The princess found herself riding beside Ser Daemon, remembering other rides when they were younger, rides that often ended in embraces. When she found herself stealing glances at him, tall and gallant in the saddle, Arianne reminded herself that she was heir to Dorne, and him no more than her shield.

When the author makes 24-year-old Arianne Martell indistinguishable from 13-year-old Sansa, and 15-year-old Daenerys.

+.+.+

"Tell me what you know of this Jon Connington," she commanded. "He's dead," said Daemon Sand. "He died in the Disputed Lands. Of drink, I've heard it said." "So a dead drunk leads this army?" "Perhaps this Jon Connington is a son of that one. Or just some clever sellsword who has taken on a dead man's name."

That's considered fAegon evidence.

+.+.+

"Or he never died at all." Could Connington have been pretending to be dead for all these years? That would require patience worthy of her father. The thought made Arianne uneasy. Treating with a man that subtle could be perilous.

Unfortunately for Jon Connington, terminal illness tends to rob you of your patience.

I do not have time enough for caution. - The Lost Lord, ADWD

x

It was not the prudent course, but he was tired of prudence, sick of secrets, weary of waiting. - The Lost Lord, ADWD

+.+.+

"What was he like before he… before he died?" "I was a boy at Godsgrace when he was sent into exile. I never knew the man." "Then tell me what you've heard of him from others." "As my princess commands. Connington was Lord of Griffin's Roost when Griffin's Roost was still a lordship worth the having. Prince Rhaegar's squire, or one of them. Later Prince Rhaegar's friend and companion. The Mad King named him Hand during Robert's Rebellion, but he was defeated at Stoney Sept in the Battle of the Bells, and Robert slipped away. King Aerys was wroth, and sent Connington into exile. There he died." "Or not." Prince Doran had told her all of that. There must be more. 

They're the same age, why does a bastard of Godsgrace know more about Jon Connington than the heir to Dorne?

How is her father just now telling her about Aerys' Hand, and the Battle of the Bells? She was the same age as Bran during the events of AGOT when the Rebellion was taking place.

+.+.+

"Those are just the things he did. I know all that. What sort of man was he? Honest and honorable, venal and grasping, proud?" "Proud, for a certainty. Even arrogant. A faithful friend to Rhaegar, but prickly with others. Robert was his liege, but I've heard it said that Connington chafed at serving such a lord. Even then, Robert was known to be fond of wine and whores." "No whores for Lord Jon, then?" "I could not say. Some men keep their whoring secret." "Did he have a wife? A paramour?" Ser Daemon shrugged. "Not that I have ever heard."

You're getting warmer.

+.+.+

That was troubling too. Ser Arys Oakheart had broken his vows for her, but it did not sound as if Jon Connington could be similarly swayed. Can I match such a man with words alone?

Lol.

Cersei Lannister attempting to seduce Stannis Baratheon.

vs.

Arianne Martell attempting to seduce Jon Connington.

Who wins?

+.+.+

To Prince Doran of House Martell, You will remember me, I pray. I knew your sister well, and was a leal servant of your good-brother. I grieve for them as you do. I did not die, no more than did your sister's son. To save his life we kept him hidden, but the time for hiding is done. A dragon has returned to Westeros to claim his birthright and seek vengeance for his father, and for the princess Elia, his mother. In her name I turn to Dorne. Do not forsake us. Jon Connington Lord of Griffin's Roost Hand of the True King

Arianne read the letter thrice, then rolled it up and tucked it back into her sleeve. 

Good, good, keep writing while you still can.

I knew your sister well, and was a leal servant of your good-brother. I grieve for them as you do.

↓↓↓

Elia was never worthy of him. She was frail and sickly from the first, and childbirth only left her weaker. - The Griffin Reborn, ADWD

+.+.+

A dragon has returned to Westeros, but not the dragon my father was expecting. Nowhere in the words was there a mention of Daenerys Stormborn… nor of Prince Quentyn, her brother, who had been sent to seek the dragon queen. The princess remembered how her father had pressed the onyx cyvasse piece into her palm, his voice hoarse and low as he confessed his plan. A long and perilous voyage, with an uncertain welcome at its end, he had said. He has gone to bring us back our heart's desire. Vengeance. Justice. Fire and blood.

And that's exactly what Dorne got.

+.+.+

In the Boneway and the Prince's Pass, two Dornish hosts had massed, and there they sat, sharpening their spears, polishing their armor, dicing, drinking, quarreling, their numbers dwindling by the day, waiting, waiting, waiting for the Prince of Dorne to loose them on the enemies of House Martell. Waiting for the dragons. For fire and blood. For me. One word from Arianne and those armies would march… so long as that word was dragon. If instead the word she sent was war, Lord Yronwood and Lord Fowler and their armies would remain in place. The Prince of Dorne was nothing if not subtle; here war meant wait.

The issue here is that not all the key players in Dorne are pursuing the same common objective, even though Doran Martell took the extra precaution of making them all pinky promise they'll behave.

"Tyene. Obara is too loud. Tyene is so sweet and gentle that no man will suspect her. Obara would make Oldtown our father's funeral pyre, but I am not so greedy. Four lives will suffice for me. Lord Tywin's golden twins, as payment for Elia's children. The old lion, for Elia herself. And last of all the little king, for my father." - The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

x

"War," said Tyene, "though not my sister's war. Dornishmen fight best at home, so I say let us hone our spears and wait. When the Lannisters and the Tyrells come down on us, we shall bleed them in the passes and bury them beneath the blowing sands, as we have a hundred times before." - The Captain of the Guards, AFFC

Doran's plan might be to hold or march, but Tyene and Nym's plan involved provoking the Lannisters, child murder, and armies descending upon Dorne.

And oops, Doran gave them the kid.

+.+.+

"Are you half horse, child?" Valena asked, laughing, in the yard. "Princess, did you bring a stable girl?" "I'm Elia," the girl announced. "Lady Lance." Whoever hung that name on her has much to answer for. Like as not it had been Prince Oberyn, though, and the Red Viper had never answered to anyone but himself. "The girl jouster," Valena said. "Yes, I've heard of you. Since you were the first to the yard, you've won the honor of watering and bridling the horses."

Elia, with a little bit of Lyanna mixed in.

+.+.+

"We have heard the same tales here that you have heard at Sunspear," Lady Nymella told them as her serving man poured the wine. "Sellswords landing on Cape Wrath, castles under siege or being taken, crops seized or burned. Where these men come from and who they are, no one is certain."

Is that the Golden Company burning food they don't seize?

Good luck in the future, you're going to need it.

+.+.+

"Pirates and adventurers, we heard at first," said Valena. "Then it was supposed to be the Golden Company. Now it's said to be Jon Connington, the Mad King's Hand, come back from the grave to reclaim his birthright. Whoever it is, Griffin's Roost has fallen to them. Rain House, Crow's Nest, Mistwood, even Greenstone on its island. All taken." [...] "Tarth has fallen too, some fisherfolk will tell you," said Valena. "These sellswords now hold most of Cape Wrath and half the Stepstones. We hear talk of elephants in the rainwood."

NOOOoooooo. Give it back!!

+.+.+

"And krakens off the Broken Arm, pulling under crippled galleys," said Valena. "The blood draws them to the surface, our maester claims. There are bodies in the water. A few have washed up on our shores. And that's not half of it. A new pirate king has set up on Torturer's Deep. The Lord of the Waters, he styles himself. This one has real warships, three-deckers, monstrous large. You were wise not to come by sea. Since the Redwyne fleet passed through the Stepstones, those waters are crawling with strange sails, all the way north to the Straights of Tarth and Shipbreaker's Bay. Myrmen, Volantenes, Lyseni, even reavers from the Iron Islands. Some have entered the Sea of Dorne to land men on the south shore of Cape Wrath. We found a good fast ship for you, as your father commanded, but even so… be careful."

Krakens!

Everyone say hello to Aurane Waters. I'll cover the rest below.

+.+.+

"Is Dorne at risk?" Lady Nymella asked. "I confess, each time I see a strange sail my heart leaps to my throat. What if these ships turn south? The best part of the Toland strength is with Lord Yronwood in the Boneway. Who will defend Ghost Hill if these strangers land upon our shores? Should I call my men home?" "Your men are needed where they are, my lady," Daemon Sand assured her. Arianne was quick to nod. Any other counsel could well lead to Lord Yronwood's host unravelling like an old tapestry as each man rushed home to defend his own lands against supposed enemies who might or might not ever come. "Once we know beyond a doubt whether these be friends or foes, my father will know what to do," the princess said.

Is Dorne at risk? Uh, yes.

"Doom and death are coming," Ellaria Sand had warned them

Please allow me to illustrate all the ways Dorne is fucked.

Map!

The red circle is where Lady Nymella sits, worried that she's badly exposed, and has nobody to protect her lands (valid fear).

The orange stars indicate the two great Dornish hosts, sitting in the Prince's Pass, and the Boneway.

Now, those two Dornish hosts are well positioned (heh, unless they "unravel") to take on the ever-resilient Cersei Lannister (who will probably have one less kid, thanks to Dorne).

However, if those hosts are preoccupied with an army descending down upon them, the rest of Dorne becomes extremely vulnerable. Didn't think that one through, did you Tyene?

Euron is in the west, travelling further and further along the coast, and I've just been informed by reliable sources that House Redwyne has no hope in hell of stopping him.

Daenerys, another vengeful queen Dorne will piss off, is coming from the east with her dragons, army, and fleet.

Notice how Dorne finds itself between Euron and Daenerys / Victarion? That ain't good.

Moving on, the purple stars are all the pirates, and slavers at the Stepstones and in the Sea of Dorne. We will continue to hear stories of them growing bolder, and landing on the shores of Westeros in Arianne's next chapter. Please pray for Lady Nymella.

That leaves the green arrows: the Greenblood, Dorne's most glaring weakness right now.

The mouth of the Greenblood lies in the Planky Town, which isn't currently being supported by any Dornish forces. Throughout history, there are multiple examples of the Planky Town being broken, and enemy forces driving up the Greenblood to defeat Dorne.

It's a historical fact that randomly gets inserted into a Jon chapter.

"Goat tracks?" The king's eyes narrowed. "I speak of moving swiftly, and you waste my time with goat tracks?"

"When the Young Dragon conquered Dorne, he used a goat track to bypass the Dornish watchtowers on the Boneway."

"I know that tale as well, but Daeron made too much of it in that vainglorious book of his. Ships won that war, not goat tracks. Oakenfist broke the Planky Town and swept halfway up the Greenblood whilst the main Dornish strength was engaged in the Prince's Pass." - Jon IV, ADWD

Kind of feels like with Dorne moving all its pieces to the Prince's Pass and Boneway, we're about to witness this play out all over again.

Do you see what happens when you play the game of thrones? Maybe I owe Lysa Arryn an apology.

One more thing,

"Once we know beyond a doubt whether these be friends or foes, my father will know what to do," the princess said.

That father who knows what to do? He's going to be dead.

+.+.+

It was then that pasty, pudgy Teora raised her eyes from the creamcakes on her plate. "It is dragons." "Dragons?" said her mother. "Teora, don't be mad." "I'm not. They're coming." "How could you possibly know that?" her sister asked, with a note of scorn in her voice. "One of your little dreams?" Teora gave a tiny nod, chin trembling. "They were dancing. In my dream. And everywhere the dragons danced the people died."

Is that like bad or something?

+.+.+

"I can attest to that." Ser Daemon took a sip of wine and said, "House Toland has a dragon on its banners." "A dragon eating its own tail, aye," Valena said. "From the days of Aegon's Conquest. He did not conquer here. Elsewhere he burned his foes, him and his sisters, but here we melted away before them, leaving only stone and sand for them to burn. And round and round the dragons went, snapping at their tails for want of any other food, till they were tied in knots."

So many interpretations of this sigil: the dragon is chasing its tail, the dragon is time ... no.

The dragon is eating itself, symbolizing House Targaryen.

+.+.+

"Our forebears played their part in that," Lady Nymella said proudly. "Bold deeds were done, and brave men died. All of it was written down by the maesters who served us. We have books, if my princess would like to know more." "Some other time, perhaps," said Arianne.

Well, that's the last thing you'd ever want to see.

George keeps emphasizing that Arianne Martell is Not A Reader.

During the daylight hours she would try to read, but the books that they had given her were deadly dull: ponderous old histories and geographies, annotated maps, a dry-as-dust study of the laws of Dorne, The Seven-Pointed Star and Lives of the High Septons, a huge tome about dragons that somehow made them about as interesting as newts. - The Princess in the Tower, AFFC

For the record, I don't care about this, but I am well aware of the author's stance on characters who have limited knowledge of history.

This is a book that Daenerys might actually benefit from reading, but she has no access to Archermaester Gyldayn’s crumbling manuscripts. So she's operating on her own there. Maybe if she understood a few things more about dragons and her own history in Essos, things would have gone a little differently. - Esquire, 2018

x

Martin is good at keeping secrets, but he does offer up one tidbit—a reminder that the royal Daenerys Targaryen was given the histories of her world as a wedding gift but neglected to read them. - Vulture, 2014

This is not a good parallel to share with Daenerys Targaryen.

Do I think it's a disaster and Arianne's as good as dead? No. Arya is Not A Reader. Asha is Not A Reader. They'll be fine, one of them might even run a kingdom by the end of this.

Still, at the very least it probably means Arianne Martell is poised to make more mistakes.

+.+.+

The Bastard of Godsgrace was one of Dorne's finest swords as well, as might be expected from one who had been Prince Oberyn's squire and had received his knighthood from the Red Viper himself. Some said that he had been her uncle's lover too, though seldom to his face. Arianne did not know the truth of that. He had been her lover, though. At fourteen she had given him her maidenhead. Daemon had not been much older, so their couplings had been as clumsy as they were ardent. Still, it had been sweet. Arianne gave him her most seductive smile. "We might share a bed together." Ser Daemon's face was stone. "Have you forgotten, princess? I am bastard born." He took her hand in his. "If I am unworthy of this hand, how can I be worthy of your cunt?"

Lol.

Arianne reminded herself that she was heir to Dorne, and him no more than her shield.

+.+.+

"What I will you will not, it seems. So be it. Talk with me instead. Could this truly be Prince Aegon?" "Gregor Clegane ripped Aegon out of Elia's arms and smashed his head against a wall," Ser Daemon said. "If Lord Connington's prince has a crushed skull, I will believe that Aegon Targaryen has returned from the grave. Elsewise, no. This is some feigned boy, no more. A sellsword's ploy to win support."

My father fears the same.

Daemon Sand comes across as a highly logical and rational thinker. I'm not sure what I'll think if he continues to not believe it's Aegon.

+.+.+

So it was. "I was seven when Elia died. They say I held her daughter Rhaenys once, when I was too young to remember. Aegon will be a stranger to me, whether true or false." The princess paused. "We looked for Rhaegar's sister, not his son." Her father had confided in Ser Daemon when he chose him as his daughter's shield; with him at least she could speak freely. "I would sooner it were Quentyn who'd returned." "Or so you say," said Daemon Sand. "Good night, princess." He bowed to her, and left her standing there. What did he mean by that? Arianne watched him walk away. What sort of sister would I be, if I did not want my brother back? It was true, she had resented Quentyn for all those years that she had thought their father meant to name him as his heir in place of her, but that had turned out to be just a misunderstanding. She was the heir to Dorne, she had her father's word on that. Quentyn would have his dragon queen, Daenerys.

You good, Arianne?

+.+.+

In Sunspear hung a portrait of the Princess Daenerys who had come to Dorne to marry one of Arianne's forebears. In her younger days Arianne had spent hours gazing at it, back when she was just a pudgy flat-chested girl on the cusp of maidenhood who prayed every night for the gods to make her pretty. A hundred years ago, Daenerys Targaryen came to Dorne to make a peace. Now another comes to make a war, and my brother will be her king and consort. King Quentyn. Why did that sound so silly?

She's coming alright.

I don't blame her for thinking it sounds silly, but I can't lie, she's making me a little uncomfortable right now.

+.+.+

Almost as silly as Quentyn riding on a dragon. Her brother was an earnest boy, well-behaved and dutiful, but dull. And plain, so plain. The gods had given Arianne the beauty she had prayed for, but Quentyn must have prayed for something else. His head was overlarge and sort of square, his hair the color of dried mud. His shoulders slumped as well, and he was too thick about the middle. He looks too much like Father.

Maybe he valued other things, Arianne.

What would a maid that age want with her dull, bookish brother? - Arianne II, TWOW

+.+.+

"I love my brother," said Arianne, though only the moon could hear her. Though if truth be told, she scarcely knew him. Quentyn had been fostered by Lord Anders of House Yronwood, the Bloodroyal, the son of Lord Ormond Yronwood and grandson of Lord Edgar. In his youth her uncle Oberyn had fought a duel with Edgar, had given him a wound that mortified and killed him. Afterward men called him 'the Red Viper,' and spoke of poison on his blade. The Yronwoods were an ancient house, proud and powerful. Before the coming of the Rhoynar they had been kings over half of Dorne, with domains that dwarfed those of House Martell. Blood feud and rebellion would surely have followed Lord Edgar's death, had not her father acted at once. The Red Viper went to Oldtown, thence across to the narrow sea to Lys, though none dared call it exile. And in due time, Quentyn was given to Lord Anders to foster as a sign of trust. That helped to heal the breach between Sunspear and the Yronwoods, but it had opened new ones between Quentyn and the Sand Snakes… and Arianne had always been closer to her cousins than to her distant brother.

They were kids when this happened, but it's still wild to resent Quentyn for any of this. He was also cut off from his father.

+.+.+

"We are still the same blood, though," she whispered. "Of course I want my brother home. I do." The wind off the sea was raising gooseprickles all up and down her arms. Arianne pulled her cloak about herself, and went off to seek her bed.

Are you alright?

+.+.+

Arianne played a game of cyvasse with Ser Daemon, and another one with Garibald Shells, and somehow managed to lose both. Ser Garibald was kind enough to say that she played a gallant game, but Daemon mocked her. "You have other pieces beside the dragon, princess. Try moving them sometime."

This is like reading a Catelyn chapter from A Storm of Swords.

+.+.+

"I like the dragon." She wanted to slap the smile off his face. Or kiss it off, perhaps. The man was as smug as he was comely. Of all the knights in Dorne, why did my father chose this one to be my shield? He knows our history.

Did she answer her own question? Bwahaha.

+.+.+

The secret pact that Prince Doran had made all those years called for Arianne to be wed to Prince Viserys, not Quentyn to Daenerys. It had all come undone on the Dothraki sea, when he was murdered. Crowned with a pot of molten gold. "He was killed by a Dothraki khal," said Arianne. "The dragon queen's own husband." "So I've heard. What of it?" "Just… why did Daenerys let it happen? Viserys was her brother. All that remained of her own blood." "The Dothraki are a savage folk. Who can know why they kill? Perhaps Viserys wiped his arse with the wrong hand." Perhaps, thought Arianne, or perhaps Daenerys realized that once her brother was crowned and wed to me, she would be doomed to spend the rest of her life sleeping in a tent and smelling like a horse. "She is the Mad King's daughter," the princess said. "How do we do know —" "We cannot know," Ser Daemon said. "We can only hope."

Are you projecting?

There's no getting around the fact that Arianne is bothered by the idea of her brother being king, despite it not interfering with her inheriting Dorne.

Sadly, these thoughts are going to continue in her next chapter.

King Quentyn. It still sounded silly. This new Daenerys Targaryen was younger than Arianne by half a dozen years. What would a maid that age want with her dull, bookish brother? Young girls dreamed of dashing knights with wicked smiles, not solemn boys who always did their duty. She will want Dorne, though. If she hopes to sit the Iron Throne, she must have Sunspear. If Quentyn was the price for that, this dragon queen would pay it. What if she was at Griffin’s End with Connington, and all this about another Targaryen was just some sort of subtle ruse? Her brother could well be with her. King Quentyn. Will I need to kneel to him? - Arianne II, TWOW

It's another bad parallel to share with Daenerys Targaryen.

"What … what if it were not Viserys?" she asked. "If it were someone else who led them? Someone stronger? Could the Dothraki truly conquer the Seven Kingdoms?" - Daenerys IV, AGOT

x

She wondered if all men were as false in the Seven Kingdoms. When her son sat the Iron Throne, she would see that he had bloodriders of his own to protect him against treachery in his Kingsguard. - Daenerys IV, AGOT

x

Dany had not known, had not even suspected. "Then … he should have them. He does not need to steal them. He had only to ask. He is my brother … and my true king." - Daenerys V, AGOT

Let's hope these thoughts only exist to amplify the remorse and guilt she'll feel after she learns he's dead, and nothing more.

In other news, it appears that a developing rivalry between Daenerys and Arianne is taking form.

Is that you, Arianne Martell?

Final thoughts:

Doran's going to die, Oberyn's dead, Quentyn's dead, half the Sand Snakes are massive liabilities, Areo Hotah is a mute, and Arianne doesn't read books.

Where's Sarella? Maybe we let Ellaria run the kingdom for a bit.

Next chapter: Mercy (Arya)

-> return to menu <-

[reinerose]

@dcviline asked: ❛ i’ll take care of you. ❜ (daemon)

"Is   that   what   you   said   to   your   princess?   Because   for   what   I   heard,   there   was   nothing   but   care   in   these   matters."   Margaery   turns   to   look   at   him,   fully.   She   hadn't   seen   him   properly   when   he   was   there   with   Oberyn   for   her   own   wedding   now   she   is   in   Dorne,   hiding.   "I   do   not   require   care.   If   I   did,   I   would   go   back   to   my   brother   and   receive   brotherly   comfort.   I   need   something   else   from   you."   And   Arianne   and   her   ladies   spoke   plenty   of   Daemon   Sand.   A   knight,a   bastard,   a   graticous   lover.   He   looks   tall   and   slim   and   so   different   from   the   soften   features   of   the   Reach.  

"Thrice   wed,   never   once   consumated.   First   preferred   men   over   me,   second   would've   been   rougher   than   a   lady   would   want,   and   the   third   was   but   a   child."   And   while   she   had   fooled   around   with   her   own   knights,   it   has   been   a   long   time,   her   hand   locks   the   door   behind   him   and   turning   to   face   him,   eyes   looking   up   to   him,   desire   finally   overtaking.   "I   am   a   lady   in   distress   and   I   would   like   for   you   to   help   me   release   that   stress."   Her   hands   reach   for   the   jerkin   of   his   shirt   and   pull   him   closer.   "I   have   seen   how   you   look   at   me,   Ser.   You   can   look,   touch,   and   pull   as   you   wish."

[hell-much]

Cutting Room Floor - Once In A Lifetime II

MARGAERY’S PHOTOGRAPHS

A collection of cut scenes from chapter 4. Some more of Margaery's photographs they look at together.

...

“This was one of my first paid jobs for National Geographics. A grotto on the Arbor.”

“It’s beautiful,” Sansa mutters, looking the way the light mirrors on the surface of the lake.

“It’s also completely artificial. Manmade less than 100 years ago.”

“Really? But all those stalagmites look real…”

“Stalactites.” She corrects and smiles cheekily. “The guide told me a way to remember it easily. Stalac-tits. Because over time they’re hanging down.”

Sansa smiles weakly. “That’s pretty lame.”

“I have a weak spot for bad puns.”

“And here I thought you had class.”

The laughter bubbling out of Margaery is a wonderful sensation. “Fooled you.”

 “You’re bad taste aside,” she points at the picture, “how can you make those artificially?”

“Stage designers,” Margaery explains. “They worked with nets and tons of plaster.”

“Wouldn’t have finding a natural cave have been easier?”

“That is the least of it. The cave has coloured light, a sound system and the lake can be heated.”

Sansa studies the picture. Margaery knows that from looking at it you could never tell. It looks just like you’d imagine a cave. “Why though?”

“The owner had it made just for himself. For his entertainment. Apparently at some point there was even a gondola on there.”

“Again… why?”

“The public called him crazy.”

“That’s not what you think though.”

“No. I think he wanted to escape reality.” She takes a deep breath. “Rumour has it he was gay. Imagine that in one of the most pristine times we ever had. I would have built myself a cave too given the resources.”

“He must have been very lonely.”

“Who knows… I like to think that maybe he wasn’t always alone in there.”

That’s a thought Sansa likes a whole lot better. “Now you made it romantic.”

.

“Tell me about this one,” Sansa asks. “That’s Arianne again, isn’t it?”

She leans over the picture in a way that makes it impossible for Margaery to see it without leaning closer again. She can’t be sure if that’s a conscious act. At the faint chance that it is she moves forward and sets her elbows on the table.

“That was in King’s Landing.” Margaery’s eyes draw over the picture, the faces of her friends, squeezing on the landing of a fire escape, looking back at them. “During the student protests, the police would regularly come after the protesters. We made it up a fire escape just barely before they came with the water cannons.”

Sansa turns to look at her and blinks rapidly at the proximity. She fidgets with the strap of her dress in drawing her eyes back on the picture. “You were in the protests?”

“Of course.”

She saves herself to say that those rebellious days are behind her. It’s not that she isn’t still passionate about the things she believes in, but she does no longer spend her weekends painting banners and chanting until she’s hoarse. 

“What was the protest about?”

“This one?” She sips her wine, to stall, to figure out how to best put it, if to come out with the truth out at all. “We were marching to the Red Keep. Demanding the right to choose.”

“Abortion?”

“Yes.”

 Sansa is studying each of the faces in the picture, says almost absentmindedly. “A good cause.” A smile spreads on Margaery’s lips and she notices it so quickly, Sansa thinks she might have not been as captivated with the photograph as she thought.  “What?”

Margaery ducks her head, tries to get her smile under control. “Nothing.”

Now she puts the photograph down and leans back. “Tell me.”

“I’m just surprised—I’m glad that you see it that way.”

.

With the next photograph Sansa picks, Margaery’s smile grows broader. “This one is my favourite, if I had favourites.”

Sansa squints, not sure what she’s looking at.

On a first glance it’s hard to tell what makes it special. It looks like your typical street café. A handful of bistro tables with chairs, all of them set up with a small vase and a single flower. The three occupied littered with small cups, glasses, plates, personal belongings. In front of the whole scene a waitress in a black skirt and a tiny apron, flinging a look over her shoulder, sceptical eyes peering into the camera.

“That was in Braavos.” There is a soft smile on Margaery’s face. “Look a little closer you’ll notice it.”

Sansa sits up too. “The waitress wasn’t happy you were photographing her?”

“Here,” Margaery points at two men sitting at one table, then at another one. “And here.”

The first two are holding hands, not in a friendly or comforting kind of way, and not concealed either. Hands are intertwined tightly, on top of the table.

With the second pair it’s a less obvious, but only until you see it. The way they’re sitting angled towards each other, close together, looking into each other’s eyes makes for an intimacy that still captivates her until today.

“That was in broad day light, in the middle of the city, in busy streets, and no one batted even an eye. That would be unthinkable even in the most liberal cities here.”

She can hear the longing in her own tone, can tell Sansa’s eyes land on her for it, but she doesn’t take her eyes off the picture that feels still a little like a utopia. Just walking in the street, holding hands is yet completely unthinkable, even when the laws have changed.

“Maybe one day it will be the same here.”

“I hope so.” Who knows, maybe. Essos, and Braavos especially always had been pretty good indicators for future developments.

“What are you thinking?”

She shakes her head. “It’s just… I think sometimes things with Renly could have ended differently had they…” She shakes her head again. That was definitely enough wine for her. “That’s all just speculation of course. Maybe he could have kissed him goodbye on the front porch and still gotten into that car crash later the same day.”

“And maybe that kiss would have just delayed him enough.”

“Maybe.”

Maybe it was putting things too simple, but maybe life was too hard sometimes not to take some things lightly.

[onthesandsofdreams]

There Is Room For Love Again

Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire Pairing: Sansa Stark x Daemon Sand Rating: T Summary: To her surprise, Prince Oberyn and Lady Ellaria invite her over for a lunch. She attends, she hardly can refuse a Prince, and besides, that has the added bonus of not having to deal with Queen Cersei for the length of it. Prince Oberyn is charming and has her in stitches, Lady Ellaria is both incredibly fierce and maternal in such a way, tears near fall at the thought of her own mother. She also gets to meet Prince Oberyn's innermost circle, amongst them? Daemon Sand. Words: 2017 Notes: I aged up Sansa for this. Prompt(s): 27.- That is not why we’re doing this from @fictober-event

Read @ AO3

The Dornish delegation arrives in a flurry of orange and gold.

And the part of her that still remains from her childhood, is thrilled at seeing all of them. At seeing Prince Oberyn be defiant enough to bring his paramour with him. There is something about it that tickles her fancy. The lowborn lady and the high prince, it is made much sweeting at seeing how clearly in love both of them are and how tender they are around each other, even if their teeth carry poison for everyone else.

To her surprise, Prince Oberyn and Lady Ellaria invite her over for a lunch. She attends, she hardly can refuse a Prince, and besides, that has the added bonus of not having to deal with Queen Cersei for the length of it. Prince Oberyn is charming and has her in stitches, Lady Ellaria is both incredibly fierce and maternal in such a way, tears near fall at the thought of her own mother. She also gets to meet Prince Oberyn's innermost circle, amongst them? Daemon Sand.

Oh, she should know better by now! She should know that a handsome visage can hide the vilest of beings. But here, in the privacy of the Dornish wing, she allows herself to be a child again and dream of a handsome knight, his bastardry doesn't matter; it is not like she will be allowed to wed him, after all. She can dream.

And that is how it starts.

For Prince Oberyn and Lady Ellaria extend the invitation to join them frequently enough. She wants to weep in gratitude for the respite of the loneliness they give her. And she is secretly glad whenever Daemon joins them. For she finds him to be funny and charming, but unlike Joffrey, there is no mocking grin. No cruelty. His eyes are clear of deception and he never treats her as if she were a plague.

For once they make their acquaintance, she finds that Daemon seeks her out and keeps her company whenever possible. They speak, of their respective childhoods and she finds that he is just as fascinated with her stories of the North as she is of Dorne. "Summer snows, how dearly would I love to see that."

"Perhaps one day, ser, you shall make your way North and have your fill of summer snows."

To her surprise, Daemon squeezes gently her hand, "And I'm sure you will be there, guiding my steps and making sure I do not freeze to death."

She chokes back a sob, the idea of home is a sweet one and the promise of going back is something she holds dear. But it is also something that she knows will be a hard won battle. "I will make you a cloak," she tells him when she has swallowed back her pain. "A very warm one, so you will not freeze."

Daemon smiles at her then, and her pain is replaced with butterflies.

* Other days, their conversations are smaller. "I once asked my father to keep a singer in Winterfell, for it was seldom they made their way North."

"I would imagine you were upset after he left."

"I wept for days."

*

"I was a companion to Princess Arianne. She is quite the spitfire, but she fools you by being soft and friendly. She certainly is my Prince's niece."

"I would dearly love to meet her, she sounds lovely."

"She would take you under her wing, she would love you, but tease you relentlessly. It is in her nature. But she is kind to those who need it. And with respect my Lady, after everything that you have lived through, you need it."

Her throat doesn't close, but it's a near thing. "Thank you."

*

To her surprise, Daemon gifts her with a small, delicate dagger. "I see that you have no guards, my Lady. But a lady of your standing should always be protected. You should have no difficulty hiding it under your gown, the Lady Ellaria could teach you how."

She stares at the dagger, and says, "Thank you, and I would appreciate if you were to teach me how to use it."

And just like that, she and Daemon meet in the godswoods as she slowly learns to use a dagger and protect herself from anyone who might wish her harm. She knows she will never be able to use it against Joffrey or Cersei or Lord Tywin, but she still feels as fierce as the direwolf of her sigil.

*

She speaks with Daemon of her love of dancing and music and songs. He listens to her, does not judge her and even when he disagrees with her, he does so respectfully. There is never any mocking. When she asks why, he tells her, "All songs had to have a base on something. What? I do not know, but the emotions behind the songs are not false. Perhaps the story is, but never the emotion that brought forth the song."

And she, is thankful that no one watches how she wipes away a quick tear.

*

And that is how she begins to realize that she has begun to fall in love with a man that she should not. Daemon is a bastard, and while she has a good sense about his character, she knows that she would never be allowed to make the choice of her own. At least not here, in this gilded cage.

Little does she know, that Daemon has fallen for her too.

*

When she is finally comfortable enough to confide in Ellaria about the plot of her marriage to Willas, she looks alarmed. "My Lady," Ellaria says quite formally. "I would not trust the Tyrells, but then again, I would say that, would I not?"

"You would think they would hurt me?"

"I would think that you are an heiress and they know it."

And that is such a bitter pill to swallow, for how can she deny it? Yes, she would be a good wife to Willas, but she also knows that her siblings, bar Jon are dead or missing. She is the only one who has a claim to Winterfell. And she has much to think about it.

*

It is one day when Prince Oberyn calls her that he barely has let her sit, so he can drop some news. "Lord Baelish has asked for your hand in marriage."

It is a good thing that she does not have anything on her hands, else they would have fallen. "My lady mother's friend? Why would he...?"

Prince Oberyn and Ellaria look pained, "Because that man could not have the mother, but he might have the daughter yet."

And just like that, panic sweeps through her. Lord Baelish was known to her lady mother, but what does she know about him? Only that he had made her uneasy when she and her father had arrived at the capital, and that for all his friendship towards her mother, he has never done a thing for her.

"Gods be good," she whispers.

"Have faith, Lady Sansa," Prince Oberyn tells her. "You might yet escape those clutches. And the lions' too."

At that, she looks sharply at the Prince. "Whatever do you mean, Prince Oberyn?"

Ellaria and the Prince share a look. "That we have a plan to have you smuggled out of the city." Oberyn takes a goblet of wine and drains it in one go. "I am a father, Sansa. And my sister died in this accursed city, I would not leave you to your doom."

She wants to cry. "However shall that be done? And what do you expect to get out of this?"

"I have my ways," Prince Oberyn gives her a smirk, only to grow serious. "As to what am I expecting? Nothing. That is not why we're doing this. I swear on my honor, that you shall be safe. I know you have been betrayed by many and have few reasons to trust me, but I would want that any man would do the same for any of my daughters."

"My father would," she says.

"I know."

In the end, the plan is simple. There will be a moment in Joffrey and Margaery's wedding when everyone shall be distracted, that is when they will spirit her away to an awaiting boat, one that will take her and a few chosen men of his to White Harbor. She allows herself to weep that night.

*

The moment she shows Ellaria the hairnet, Prince Oberyn stands on edge and hisses. "Those are not stones." He says, takes a dagger and removes one, placing it on an empty wine cup that he adds some wine to it. The jewel dissolves and Prince Oberyn grits his teeth. "The strangler, get rid of this thing Sansa."

Panic fills her again, someone gave her poison? How could Ser Dontos betray her like that? She gives Prince Oberyn a jerky nod, "I shall, thank you for telling me."

She lets Prince Oberyn take another 'stone', she does not ask about it. And in the privacy of her chamber, she uses the dagger to remove the stones. The poison could be useful, so she sews them into her dresses and gets rid of the metalwork.

*

Joffrey and Margaery's wedding is a grand affair, Prince Oberyn has requested that she be seated near him and the Lannisters can not deny him. Joffrey mocks her for it, Margaery gives her pitying looks and Lady Oleanna disapproves, vocally so. But she finds that she does not care.

The music is loud and she wishes she could dance, to her surprise, Daemon comes to her, bows deeply and asks, "Lady Sansa, can I have this dance?"

She beams, "I would be delighted," she tells him and lets herself be led onto the dance floor. If people talk and watch and gossip, she does not care. She will enjoy those stolen moments with Daemon as much as she can.

And she finds Daemon to be a marvelous dancer, he sways her to the rhythm with surprising grace. Her heart is thundering inside of her heart and how she wishes in that very moment that she were brave enough to pull him down for a kiss. Propriety be damned. Her parents are gone, so are her siblings, who is there to berate her? The Lannisters, but she finds that she does not care a bit about what they have to say.

The Tyrells have slowly pulled back, displeased that she spends more of her time with Prince Oberyn and Lady Ellaria, she does not mourn the friendship, calling it summer friends, but she mourns what could have been.

She dances with the Dornish who ask, but she returns over and over to Daemon.

And then, Joffrey dies and everything breaks into chaos.

That is when Daemon rushes her towards safety.

Prince Oberyn's men are waiting near the pier, ready to depart and she feels an immense relief at knowing that Daemon will be going North with her. She is rushed to the ship, hair covered. To her surprise, she finds the cabin she has been given contains dresses that will fit her, and she vows to one day to something to repay the kindness that Prince Oberyn and Ellaria have given her.

*

The road towards the North is long and hard, but she doesn't mind at all. How could she, when she is finally free from the Lannisters and she has the safety that Daemon gives her?

No, she is finally going home and, if things go well, she might be able to give Daemon the cloak she has spoken about. Because she is Lady Stark, and she will do her utmost to make sure that Daemon is treated with the respect he deserves. And she will fight anyone who tells her that he is not a fit consort for her. Because in him she has found more nobility than in others of higher birth.

Yes, he would make a fine Lord Stark at her side.

Daemon is and will be her choice.

[forever-rogue]

Patricia!! First of all congrats on a new follower milestone! Those are always so exciting and asking and you deserve every one of them! Could I possibly request 39: “I wish we could stay like this forever” and 80: “let’s run away together” from promo list 2 with Oberyn? I love how you write him and would die to see what you do with this 🥺 ily Patricia! And congrats again! ❤️

Anything for you, my love! Enjoy 🥺

(also not necessary but I am a fool - this could totally be read as a slice of life in INO)

Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader ; warnings: references to sex

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

The warmth, golden light filtered in through the sheer curtains, and the fresh, salty smell of the ocean and sound of chirping birds hit you all at once. It was a late, but beautiful and blissful morning and you were loath to get up. All you wanted was to stay here forever, wrapped up in the arms of your beautiful lover. Almost as if he sensed that you were up, you felt him grinning against your skin as he pressed a flurry of gentle, saccharine kisses to your chest and collarbones. You mumbled something into the soft pillow, something about wanting just five more minutes of sleep, but he just chuckled. 

“Sleep is for the dead, sunshine,” he murmured as he worked his way up your neck and stopped at your lips.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," a small huff of air escaped your nose as you pouted at him, slowly opening your bleary eyes. You found his soft brown ones, crinkled sweetly in the corners as he grinned at you, studying your face intently, “good morning.”

“Speak for yourself,” you teased him, “it cannot be a good morning if I am being woken up at such an ungodly hour!”

“Ungodly hour,” Oberyn laughed - a twinkling, beautiful sound - before laying back down and pulling you on top of him. You made a small sound of surprise at the sudden motion, but quickly quieted down when you felt his warm, bare body against yours. His golden skin on yours was delicious and warm, soft and strong at the same time, a perfect juxtaposition - just like him. You laid your head onto his chest, “it is almost the afternoon, sweet girl, it’s hardly ungodly.”

“Why can I not enjoy the day in bed with my prince?” you sighed softly, running a hand through his dark curls, “why should I allow the world to part me from my lover in such a manner?”

“Unfortunately the world requires us to be present,” he chuckled as kissed the top of your head. You huffed lightly although you understood what he meant. You'd always known - from the moment you had met the handsome prince.

“And what’s more important? The world or me?” you joked as he grazed his fingers up and down your spine, leaving a wake of gooseflesh under his fingertips. You sighed into his touch before pressing a few kisses to his bare chest.

“You, of course,” he promised, “and you have me always, first and foremost. But sometimes the world needs their prince.”

"And what about me?" you said softly as his large hands landed thoroughly on your backside, giving the firm flesh of your ass a squeeze. You giggled wildly before turning to look up at him and grabbing his jaw, "play fair!"

"I am," he insisted as you kissed him, "you will always manage without me. For the world needs their prince, but what is a mere prince to the queen?"

"Shut up," you groaned at him before moving to sit up so you were straddling his lap, his body humming with gentle love under yours, "you are not even a prince - only a mere fool!"

"A fool for you," he insisted softly as his hands found purchase on your hips. You beamed at him, golden as the sunlight and causing his heart to melt, "let me show you how a queen - my queen - is treated."

"Oberyn," you gasped slightly as his hands wandered up your body and to your breasts, "I thought we had to get up and rejoin society?"

"I've changed my mind," he grinned, "the prince needs you instead."

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Its beautiful here," you were sprawled out on the lush, soft blanket, soaking up as much sun as possible. You were near the edge of the stunning lake, secluded and alone, as you listened to the soft lapping of the waves onto the shore. It was so serene and blissful, for a few moments you almost forgot that a world outside of this place existed. 

Oberyn hummed in content as he popped a few fresh, plump berries into his mouth. He grabbed a particularly plump looking strawberry and held it out to you, dangling it just in front of your lips. You made a show of taking a large bite from the berry, letting the juice dribble from your lips and down your chin.  He tuttled lightly before using his thumb to collect the juices and holding it out to you. 

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled his thumb into your mouth before sucking it clean before slowly releasing it with a loud pop. He grinned at you, before pulling you in for a kiss. 

"You are a very tantalizing little thing," he licked across your bottom lip, savoring the sweetness that lingered. You grinned against him before pulling away and lying back down on the blanket. Oberyn watched you for a few moments before lying next to you, his large hand grabbed yours and he defty laced your fingers together, "you're thinking much too loudly."

"I am doing nothing of the sort," you shrugged innocently, keeping your eyes closed in order to shield them from the sun - and Oberyn. He had a knack for being able to read every thought and feeling almost as if he was able to see into your soul. Naturally, there were a million things running through your mind at once, but you weren't going to tell Oberyn any of that - not yet anyway, "perhaps you're being too analytical."

"It wouldn't be the first time I've been accused of such a thing," he snorted in laughter, "but I, my sunshine, am also able to read to you - easily. Tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours."

"And if I refuse to speak my peace?"

"Then I shall be forced to pull it out of you," he insisted softly as he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a delicate kiss to your knuckles. Sighing contentedly, you rolled onto your side so you could properly face him.

And he was beautiful - so stunning in his golden glory. He was older now, than when you'd first met him, calmer after everything he'd survived in King's Landing, even more wise and world weary than the best men. Which you supposed he was; a man with words as sweet as roses or sharp as hawthorne - it was easy to see why everyone fell at his feet, but he still reminded them of why he was the Red Viper.

The soft brown of his eyes, flecked with gold in the light, always seemed to betray him.  At least to you anyways. His hair was longer these days, softer much like him, lightened by the sun and flowing into luscious curls. His facial hair has greyed slightly (from keeping up with all of the kids he always claimed), and he was more...him. 

You'd always loved him, from the day he seemed to save you from a life of uncertainty and domineering men. But it has been a privilege to watch him grow, to see him become the best version of him - it was always thanks to you, he claimed, a guise you greatly disputed. But you loved him - your husband - more than the moon and all the glittering stars in the night sky. 

Playing with you a lock of his soft hair, you continued to brush off the insinuation that anything was wrong, "nothing is the matter, Oberyn. I am merely enjoying the private company of my husband."

“And yet there is so much going on in that mind,” he mused, as you shrugged innocently, “so much buzzing, I’d think we were in Honeyholt and tending to the bees. My dear sunshine, you should know better by now - when have I ever let such a thing go?”

“You are incessant,” you groaned lightly, but appreciating the care and concern nonetheless, “it is silly - a mere folly that should not even worry me and alas, here I am.”

“If it matters to you, then it is not a mere folly,” he promised, “you can tell me anything.”

“I know,” you agreed with a small. You sat up slowly pulling your knees to your chest as you looked out into the sparkling water. Oberyn followed suit before moving to sit in front of you, putting his hand under your chin and turning your face up to his. He almost left you breathless with his easy beauty and warmth, “it’s just...I like this. Just you and me, no one else around, no worries, no duties. I...I hate to think once we return home it will all cease to exist - you will be forced to your duties, as I understand you must, and I? Well, I suppose I will be your dutiful wife, hoping and wishing for a chance to see her husband.”

“Then I suppose we should run away, shouldn’t we?”

“I...Oberyn...what?”

“I’m serious,” he insisted softly as you just laughed at his idealistic ways, “let’s run away together, even if just for a while. No one has to know...and when we are ready we shall return.”

“That is a temporary solution for a permanent problem, my love,” you gave him a weak smile before pulling out of his touch, “what about when we return to Dorne?”

“Always so serious, my sunshine,” he chuckled softly as you huffed at him, “you must ruin every little surprise, mustn’t you?”

“I have done nothing,” you insisted, sticking out your tongue at him, “all I do is care about my husband and I am teased and punished for being woeful and caring!”

“You have not been teased -”

“I have too, Oberyn Martell!”

“I will make it up to you, sweet girl,” he praised with a glint in his eye, “however, whenever, and wherever you should fancy. Now - will you let me finish?”

“I have not been-”

“Your prince demands it.”

“Well your queen insists that she hasn’t been doing anything of the short,” gave him a little smirk, “but go on and tell me about this so called surprise.”

“When we return home to Dorne, things will be different,” he promised as you raised your eyebrows in question, “I have been thinking, and don’t even say a word, and I think it’s time for me to...take a step back and let Doran and Arianne, as his heir, handle things from now. I am getting tired...weary, of all these tasks that should be left to the next ruler. Besides, Arianne is more than ready to take over. I think I should quite enjoy a quiet, leisurely life.”

“Oberyn,” your mouth dropped and formed a small o as you studied him to try and see if he was being honest. A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth before he broke out in a wonderful grin. You leaned over and kissed him, unable to stop yourself, “do you mean it? Please tell me this isn’t some sort of cruel joke.”

“I would never do such a thing,” he whispered as he pulled you into his lap and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “I just think...it’s time. Besides, there is nothing more I want than to spend my day with you, and the girls - think of all the things we can do. There are still ways to help our people, but we will do it together.”

“You continually amaze me,” a single tear, this one of nothing but happiness and love had rolled down your cheek as you pressed your forehead against his, “and I will never know what I did to deserve you, and I will be forever grateful to the universe for bringing you to me.”

“Now you’re just flattering me,” he reached up and gently wiped away the tear, “for it should be the other way around. I take it as though you are not opposed to the notion?”

“Not at all,” you smiled softly, “I could have asked for nothing better.”

“Then what do you say?” his hand found the back of your neck as he gave you a gentle squeeze, “shall we run away? To Essos - the Summer Isles - far away from everything? Only to return when we decide we are ready to?

“Yes,” you eagerly agreed, delighted by the prospect of spending the days and nights at your husband’s side, without a care in the world, “I want nothing more.”

“Then it is settled,” he promised, “now, will you let me show you every way in which I love you?”

“Oberyn!” your face flushed with warmth as you looked around to make sure no was within ear shot, “we are out in the open! Anyway could...see.”

“And that is not our problem,” he shrugged simply, “we have told them not to disturb us, hopefully they heed our advice. But now, sweet girl, you are all mine.”

“Always,” you promised softly, “I am forever yours.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[mikasaessucasaa]

Title: Wolves at Dusk

Summary: When Sansa was a child, Jon reminded her of everything wrong with the world. He was proof that the things she craved the most, romance and the promise of marriage, could be betrayed. So she resented him.

Now, after spending 10 years in the Vale in hiding and her family dead and gone, she has come to King’s Landing to beg for support to take back her rightful seat in the North.

PART 1 – PART 2

“Tell me more about your former wife,” Daenerys asked Tyrion across the dining table.

Jon’s head snapped up to watch their conversation, the meal before him forgotten, but Rhaegar looked on, bored already.

“I do not know what happened in the Vale for her to be disfigured so, but Sansa was renowned for her beauty. The rose of Winterfell,” Tyrion explained.

Rhaegar scoffed. “Her coloring is too Tully to be the rose of Winterfell.”

Tyrion paused appropriately to let Rhaegar know that he acknowledged his comment before continuing. “She was beautiful but dull, always happy to go along with what my sister requested of her.”

And that was the end of it. He gave Jon nothing, while holding onto everything. There was more to his marriage to his cousin, he knew it, and yet nothing he could do would pry the truth out of the tricky Lannister.

The Sansa that he saw before the Iron Throne was not a dull woman. She had a sharpness in her eye that he had seen so rarely around him.

He remembered the Sansa of his childhood, who loved pretty gold things, who so desperately wanted to come South, and was shocked to see how she had aged. Gone was her shiny red hair, replaced with something dull and barely auburn. The scar across her eye did not disgust him, but made him curious as to how she received it. The Sansa of his childhood would never be put in a situation where she would receive something like that. She was beloved and protected, in a way that he never was while he was in Winterfell, before he found his way South to be with his true family.

And perhaps most of all, the Sansa of his childhood would never dare cast aside her cousin, more Tully than Stark that she was. Family, duty, honor.

Yet, she stood tall before the Targaryens, unafraid, something that he had not seen in the years since they had retaken the Iron Throne from the Lannisters.

Sansa Stark was a dangerous woman.

And his father wanted him to cast aside Arianne Martell to marry her.

Jon did not prefer Arianne Martell one way or another, but he knew the consequences of his actions. Another Dorne lady cast aside for a Stark. This would bring war one way or another, and his father was no fool to not see it.

“Marrying a Stark will bring Dorne's wrath,” Jon said quietly.

Rhaegar finally turned to fully engage in the conversation.

“You are the product of it, yet you do not know what it is to go to war with the North. Arianne Martell may be scorned, but that woman will burn down everything in her path to Winterfell.”

Daenerys perked up at Rhaegar’s words. “She does not seem strong enough to do so. She has no dragons after all.”

“All the same, if you wish to stop her, then you must be ready to run her through.”

At this Rhaegar’s stare pierced through Jon, and he swallowed wine down heavily, knowing that he believed Jon could.

He had already killed his half-brother, afterall.

[isefyres]

He   genuinely   laughs   at   that,   the   echoes   of   his   own   laugh   turn   into   those   of   a   dragon   as   Balerion,   standing   watch   and   prideful   laughs   too.   Connection   between   rider   and   dragon   as   deep   as   her   pride.   "Rȳ   ease,   balerion.   Iksi   daor   kesīr   naejot   vīlībagon."   He   speaks   in   his   native   tongue   to   the   dragon   and   Balerion   takes   a   time   to   look   around   before   simply   letting   his   wings   spread   and   wind   so   he   can   rest   properly   on   the   sand,   as   strange   to   him   as   anything   on   this   content   is.   He   turns   to   look   at   the   dragon   with   a   smile   for   once   before   he   turns   to   look   at   Arianne.   "Lord   Torrhen   Stark   is   facing   a   drought   and   a   harsh   winter,   I   do   not   blame   him   for   doing   this   in   favor   of   food   and   water   for   his   people.   Are   you   saying   he   should've   let   his   people   die   by   fire   and   then   ice.   If   so,   then   perhaps   you   are   not   the   just   ruler   I   heard   you   are,   Your   Grace.   For   I   respect   your   title,   you   should   respect   mine.   I   might   not   be   a   King   in   Dorne,   but   I   am   a   King   elsewhere,   for   that,   I   demand   respect,   as   well   respect   for   Lord   Torrhen,   who   is   a   compassionate   ruler.   Are   you?"  

He   now   considered   Torrhen   a   friend,   for   the   man   had   been   wise   in   bending   the   knee   but   also   explained   their   own   situation.   Winterfell   was   House   Stark's   seat   and   it   had   their   own   prophecies   just   like   House   Targaryen   had.   The   North   has   it's   harships   only   a   wolf   can   understand,   and   he   respects   a   man   who   understands   when   to   protect   his   people   instead   of   his   ego.   "No,   the   sun   bows   to   no   one   but   itself.   Which   is   why   you   live   in   constant   inner   wars   among   your   own   houses,   fighting   for   power,   fighting   invasion   off   from   the   Reach   and   the   Stormlands,   both   now   acquire   to   my   Kingdom."   He   speaks   in   turn,   lilac   eyes   looking   down   upon   the   ruler   of   Dorne.   She   has   spirit   but   perhaps   too   much   pride   to   understand   an   alliance   when   it's   being   offered.  

"The   Stormlanders   and   Reach   had   agreed   to   not   invade   your   borders   further,   my   sister   Rhaenys   giving   them   lovely   wives   to   keep   them   entertained.   I   offer   you   that;   safety   from   living   in   constant   alert   of   who   will   come   next.   And   if   a   house   rises   against   yours,   which   they   will,   I   offer   my   assistance,   as   I   do   if   my   lieges   break   their   word.   You   can   remain   as   you   are,   a   princedom.   But   you   would   make   fool   of   your   sex   if   you   don't   accept   this   alliance."   And   perhaps   he   should've   send   Rhaenys   to   deal   with   this,   woman   to   woman,   but   he   had   a   gut   feeling   that   if   he   allowed   his   wife   to   come,   she   would   never   return   from   Dorne.   "Any   other   terms   you   wish,   are   to   be   discussed   and   a   treaty   sign."   

❝ What a disappointment. To hear that all those great lords with all their armies fell to mere mortal and his pup, ❞ she remarked, her pride and dignity palpable in her demeanor. Arianne carried herself with a regal air, never allowing anyone to diminish her worth or her status. ❝ The north also pisses on the streets, I heard. Does that mean we have to follow? We are off Rhoynish blood, they are made of snow, ❞ she added, her tone dripping with disdain.

Beneath her beauty lay a mind as sharp as any sword. ❝ You are wrong in one thing, however, Ser, ❞ she continued, refusing to bestow him the title of king. Confident steps carried her over, she was not afraid to face the man who crowned himself king. Standing at barely five foot two, Arianne's temperament was as fiery as the sun that scorched the Dornish sands. Quick to anger but just as quick to forgive, her emotions were intense and unyielding, just like her pride. The same pride that lit her eyes as her gaze shot up to him before raising her voice once more. There was a dangerous elegance to the way she spoke, her accent weaving a tapestry of intimidation. She spoke with the authority of kings. ❝ The sun never bows to the dragon. ❞

[agentrouka-blog]

dumb question. but do you think dany is the stallion who mounts the world?

Hi there!

That’s not a dumb question. :) 

Also, yes. Absolutely. Along with the other savior-related prophecies. The Prince that was Promised, Azor Ahai, etc... 

Specifically, it is Dany in combination with Drogon.

Dany eats the horse heart and the dosh khaleen make their prophecy, but like all seers and priests, they are fallible, and prone to misinterpretation, due to the sexist bias in their culture.

“Khalakka dothrae mr’anha!” she proclaimed in her best Dothraki. A prince rides inside me! She had practiced the phrase for days with her handmaid Jhiqui. (AGOT, Daenerys V)

Since the ceremony and everyone’s expectations are pointed at the expected son (assumed son, never a daughter!) their visions are ascribed to this innocent fetus. Rhaego, as we later learn, was never going to be that. He fits perfectly into the Targaryen pattern of dragonblood-related, malformed stillbirths. 

So who else would it be, who is prophecied to be this prince:

“As swift as the wind he rides, and behind him his khalasar covers the earth, men without number, with arakhs shining in their hands like blades of razor grass. Fierce as a storm this prince will be. His enemies will tremble before him, and their wives will weep tears of blood and rend their flesh in grief. The bells in his hair will sing his coming, and the milk men in the stone tents will fear his name.” The old woman trembled and looked at Dany almost as if she were afraid. “The prince is riding, and he shall be the stallion who mounts the world.”

Let’s look what applies.

1) Swift as the wind...

The silver horse leapt the flames as if she had wings.

When she pulled up before Magister Illyrio, she said, "Tell Khal Drogo that he has given me the wind." (AGOT, Daenerys II)

But also...

The horses broke and ran when the shadow fell upon them, racing through the grass until their sides were white with foam, tearing the ground with their hooves … but as swift as they were, they could not fly. Soon one horse began to lag behind the others. The dragon descended on him, roaring, and all at once the poor beast was aflame, yet somehow he kept on running, screaming with every step, until Drogon landed on him and broke his back. (ADWD, Daenerys X)

2) Fierce as a storm… 

"And I am Daenerys Stormborn, Daenerys of House Targaryen, of the blood of Aegon the Conqueror and Maegor the Cruel and old Valyria before them. I am the dragon's daughter, and I swear to you, these men will die screaming. Now bring me to Khal Drogo." (AGOT, Daenerys IX)

3) Enemies will tremble… Her perceived enemies at the point of that prophecy are the Robert and Ned and the Lannisters. 

"Your Grace, I never knew you to fear Rhaegar." Ned fought to keep the scorn out of his voice, and failed. "Have the years so unmanned you that you tremble at the shadow of an unborn child?" (AGOT, Eddard VIII)

Ironically, Rhaego is not that unborn child. The “Shadow” is another. When Dany rides Drogon, she has completed her transformation into the Stallion.

"It were the black one," the man said, in a Ghiscari growl, "the winged shadow. He come down from the sky and … and …" (ADWD, Daenerys I)

4) Their wives weep tears of blood and rend their flesh...

The tears burned like vinegar as they ran down her cheeks. Ten fierce ravens were raking her face with sharp talons and tearing off strips of flesh, leaving deep furrows that ran red with blood. She could taste it on her lips.  (ASOS, Catelyn VII)

I have no doubt that more will tremble and weep blood before long.

5) Bells in their hair….

That was Drogon's victory, not mine, Dany wanted to say, but she held her tongue. The Dothraki would esteem her all the more for a few bells in her hair. She chimed as she mounted her silver mare, and again with every stride, but neither Ser Jorah nor her bloodriders made mention of it.

 (ACOK, Daenerys V)

6) Milk men in stone tents will fear her name...

"On that we can agree," Ser Kevan said, "but the girl is of the blood of Aegon the Conqueror, and I do not think she will be content to remain in Meereen forever. If she should reach these shores and join her strength to Lord Connington and this prince of his, feigned or no … we must destroy Connington and his pretender now, before Daenerys Stormborn can come west."  (ADWD, Epilogue)

and..

"She is the Mad King's daughter," the princess said. "How do we do know--"

"We cannot know," Ser Daemon said. "We can only hope." 

(TWOW, Arianne I)

7) The prince is riding.

As Dany rode beneath the arched entry and up the center aisle, every eye was on her. The Dothraki screamed out comments on her belly and her breasts, hailing the life within her. She could not understand all they shouted, but one phrase came clear. "The stallion that mounts the world," she heard, bellowed in a thousand voices.

They are screaming about Rhaego but they are looking at her as she rides.

So the Dany = Stallion = Prince (that was promised) = Azor Ahai.

“We must act boldly, or all hope is lost. Westeros must unite beneath her one true king, the prince that was promised, Lord of Dragonstone and chosen of R'hllor." (ASOS, Davos IV)

Chosen by the god of burning people alive.

And finally Maester Aemon ties it up:

"No one ever looked for a girl," he said. "It was a prince that was promised, not a princess. Rhaegar, I thought . . . the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King's Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet. What fools we were, who thought ourselves so wise! The error crept in from the translation. Dragons are neither male nor female, Barth saw the truth of that, but now one and now the other, as changeable as flame. The language misled us all for a thousand years. Daenerys is the one, born amidst salt and smoke. The dragons prove it."  

(AFFC, Samwell IV)

Ironically, he is still utterly wrong in his assumption that this prince will be a force of good. Quite the opposite.

[cerseiwondered]

Hello!! If prompts are still open maybe 12 or 20? Anyway I think your writing's great, thank you and have a nice day :)

Thank you for the prompt, I hope you have a great day as well!

I tried to write this as quickly as possible so I could still post it on the Sapphic Sansa Fest, but I hope you enjoy it anyway haha

Prompts: “Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss” + “ Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference”

I also added a little women football rivalry here because - why not.

-

Margaery’s smile was as kind as ever when she arrived at the post-match interview spot; properly hydrated and perfumed after ninety minutes on the field.

“Margaery,” the first journalist called as she blinked at the camera flashlights. “Struggling in the middle of the league table, I would say this tie was not exactly what any of the teams were looking for tonight. As captain, how do you think the aftermath of this match will affect Raventree City’s planning for the rest of the season?”

“It was surely not the result we were hoping for but I still think we managed to play some quality, offensive football tonight,” Margaery recited the words she had passed it on to herself from the moment the referee whistled for the last time.

“The fact that we still didn’t win shows us we weren’t what we were supposed to be - perfect. Stone Hedge was very efficient in the counter-attacks and I think this is something the coach will charge us defensively. But most of all, I think we’re on the right track.”

A dozen journalists called her name once again, and Margaery focused on the short black-haired one on her left.

“On social media, there’s been some noise on the penalty you were given at the last minute of the second half, the one that avoided Raventree’s loss. Some people claim that you looked for that contact after the defender slipped.”

Margaery fought hard to keep her lips from curling into a smirk. “I did not look for any contact; I was merely on my way to the ball when I tripped on the defender. It does not matter whether it was an accident or not, she blocked my pace and I fell; it was a penalty.” And then she smiled amiably. “Thank you for your question.”

A tall blonde man stole Margaery’s attention. “Margaery, you had such an inspired performance, your first goal after that dribble against the Stone Hedge’s midfielder and the second one with that free-kick. But we can’t help but wonder, why didn’t you take the last-minute penalty that would’ve saved Raventree and given you the hat-trick? Was the pressure too much for you to handle?”

Margaery narrowed her eyes at his last words. One thing was to call her a diver - well, there was not much she could say to deny that. But a coward?

“There is a reason why I wear this armband, and a reason why I wear this number,” she touched the number ten engraved on the black jersey she wore. “Myrcella had been frustrated ever since missing that open goal, and I decided to allow her the opportunity to score. There is no such thing as pressure; I simply put my teammate’s needs ahead of my statistics. That is what a leader should do,” she shot back with a gentle smile and hard eyes.

She answered a few more questions before her sight caught the number six on the yellow jersey meters and meters away from her.

As she excused herself, she was grateful for the path that the redhead was taking. Margaery followed Sansa through one of the stadium’s corridors, blissfully away from the press.

She heard the redhead’s gasp when Margaery pulled her into another, almost hidden corridor, away from other’s eyes.

“What?”, Sansa exclaimed as she found herself pushed against the wall outside a closet, right next to a staircase that led to an unused locker room.

“Hey,” Margaery grinned as she brought Sansa’s head down to meet her, pulling her bottom lip between her own. She was just sighing at the feeling of long fingers digging into brown hair when Sansa broke the kiss, whispering against Margaery.

“I don’t think this is the most discreet place.” A tender hand caressed Margaery’s lower back.

Margaery pressed a wet kiss on the spot under Sansa’s ear. “Don’t worry, nobody comes here. Arianne and I used to fool around here every day after practice back when she still played with us.”

And then she giggled when Sansa pushed her away abruptly. “I don’t need to hear about your adventures with another woman, let alone a Woody.”

Margaery refrained from rolling her eyes at the nickname given by the Stone Hedge fans to the Raventree players. “You’re right,” her hands slid from Sansa’s face to her hair. “You don’t need to hear anything.”

Her tongue was just darting out slowly to meet Sansa’s lips when the redhead broke their contact again.

“I told you,” Margaery breathed, “No one comes here.”

“It’s not that,” Sansa’s voice was impatient. “I’ve just remembered that I’m pissed at you.”

Margaery knew the reason full well but still asked as she stroked the nape of Sansa’s neck. “And why is that, my love?”

“That dive,” Sansa shook her head incredulously. “You’re so cheap, Margaery. Did you honestly feel so threatened about losing to us that you felt the need to play so low?”

Margaery laughed. “Oh, come on. Don’t act like that was a scandalous foul. The referee didn’t exactly hesitate to give the penalty.”

Sansa tightened her grip on Margaery’s hips. “Because you fell on the floor yelling like she had ripped your ankle off.”

Margaery’s smile faltered as she retracted her hands. “Is this really how we are going to spend this moment alone? Did you forget about our rules?”

Their rules. The rules they had come up with months before, after they had slept together for the fourth time and realized that that, them, was something they couldn’t run from any longer.

There were only two rules, fairly simple and expected when it came to a relationship between the Raventree City’s left-wing and the Stone Hedge United’s right back; the two clubs held the biggest rivalry in the country, if not the world.

Don’t talk about football matters.

Don’t let anyone find out.

They had been utterly successful with the latter; can’t say the same about the first one.

“You’re right.” Sansa pulled her more tightly against herself. “I have to say I’m thankful we only play against each other twice a year. You’re too cute but I don't think my love would be strong enough to survive you nutmegging me more than you already do.”

“Well, I’m also appreciative of the scarce number of times we have to face each other, but it has more to do with how tricky it is not to get distracted by you running after me on your sweaty uniform.” She circled the red horse crest over Sansa’s left breast with her index finger.

“I see your point.”

And then all of the sudden, Sansa was dragging her by the hand towards the staircase.

They were in the middle of the stairwell, and it was more silent and a bit dark - exactly what they were looking for. And then it was Margaery’s turn to break the kiss, freeing herself from Sansa’s hold and going up a few steps until she was towering over the redhead.

“What is this?” Sansa chuckled.

“I want to be taller than you for once,” Margaery shrugged as she rested her arms around Sansa’s shoulders.

“If you were taller than me, you would have been able to score that header I blocked in the first half,” she lifted her head to face Margaery directly. “If you were taller than me, you would have managed to lob me, like you tried, and failed, to do today.”

The feeling of Sansa’s nails scratching her stomach through the fabric of her jersey and a gentle kiss pressed to the skin of her neck robbed Margaery of whatever reply she was ready to give.

[shieldofrohan]

I was struck by your idea that there may be a Jonsa political marriage in TWOW or early in ADOS because I could NOT figure out why they made all those parallels between them and Ned/Cat in the show without addressing it. But, your idea worries me because in s7 they compared J/D to Rhaegar/Lyanna, and while I can't imagine Jon being unfaithful, Dany falling in love with Jon was what brought her North. So how does that/the love triangle we saw on the show play out if Jonsa is already married?

Hello @esther-dot! First of all thank you for your ask, people don’t ask me anything usually so your ask made me really happy. 

I wrote a long answer I guess, sorry :

First let me say that: I think we are giving too much credit to show. After S4 the show kind of stopped following the books. I mean look at the S5 Ramsay/Sansa nonsense. D&D made it clear that GRRM gave them some important scenes for them to work with so I see the show as a slide-show of some scenes from books tbh. For example the arrival of the Knights of the Vale was sth you can find the hints of it in the books. Or the trial and death of Baelish by the hand of Sansa. Even the death of Daenerys was foreshadowed in the books. But the plots to get to those scenes were all D&D if you ask me. So they had to fill the gaps and they did it how they wanted. 

At this point I really can’t see a version of Asoiaf without a jonsa plot. Jonsa is the most foreshadowed plot in the books. The hints are starting in the prologue of the AGOT and they keep going in the AFFC and ADWD, and you can even find hints in other books of GRRM. Jonsa foreshadowings are surrounded by marriage and children imagery. So not having a jonsa marriage or kids seems unlikely to me. 

I am looking at the j*nerys foreshadowings and they are all about them being enemies. For example these two chapters that follow each other:

“No. Dany shivered. No, no, oh no.“Are you deaf, fool?” Reznak mo Reznak demanded of the man. “Did you not hear my pronouncement? See my factors on the morrow, and you shall be paid for your sheep.” “Reznak,” Ser Barristan said quietly, “hold your tongue and open your eyes. Those are no sheep bones.” No, Dany thought, those are the bones of a child.”

[A Dance with Dragons; Daenerys]

*

Burning dead children had ceased to trouble Jon Snow; live ones were another matter. Two kings to wake the dragon. The father first and then the son, so both die kings. The words had been murmured by one of the queen’s men as Maester Aemon had cleaned his wounds. Jon had tried to dismiss them as his fever talking. Aemon had demurred. “There is power in a king’s blood,” the old maester had warned, “and better men than Stannis have done worse things than this.” The king can be harsh and unforgiving, aye, but a babe still on the breast? Only a monster would give a living child to the flames.

[A Dance with Dragons; Jon]

***

The next morning Xaro’s galleas was gone, but the “gift” that he had brought her remained behind in Slaver’s Bay. Long red streamers flew from the masts of the thirteen Qartheen galleys, writhing in the wind. And when Daenerys descended to hold court, a messenger from the ships awaited her. He spoke no word but laid at her feet a black satin pillow, upon which rested a single bloodstained glove. “What is this?” Skahaz demanded. “A bloody glove …” “… means war,” said the queen.

[A Dance with Dragons; Daenerys]

*

As they did their count, Jon peeled the glove off his left hand and touched the nearest haunch of venison. He could feel his fingers sticking, and when he pulled them back he lost a bit of skin. His fingertips were numb. What did you expect? There’s a mountain of ice above your head, more tons than even Bowen Marsh could count. Even so, the room felt colder than it should.“It is worse than I feared, my lord,” Marsh announced when he was done. He sounded gloomier than Dolorous Edd.Jon had just been thinking that all the meat in the world surrounded them. You know nothing, Jon Snow. “How so? This seems a deal of food to me.”

[A Dance with Dragons; Jon]

***

Dizzy, Dany closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she glimpsed the Meereenese beneath her through a haze of tears and dust, pouring up the steps and out into the streets.The lash was still in her hand. She flicked it against Drogon’s neck and cried, “Higher!” Her other hand clutched at his scales, her fingers scrabbling for purchase. Drogon’s wide black wings beat the air. Dany could feel the heat of him between her thighs. Her heart felt as if it were about to burst. Yes, she thought, yes, now, now, do it, do it, take me, take me, FLY!”

[A Dance with Dragons; Daenerys]

*

Jon clasped the offered hand. The words of his oath rang through his head. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men.

[A Dance with Dragons; Jon]

***

I really try to see some romantic hints in those but I can’t find them. So why did D&D choose to do j*nerys instead of jonsa? Let’s face it: Their main audience are locals and Dany lovers. People were waiting them to bang... (ew). And when he was asked about Grrm’s intentions about Jon and Dany, Alan Taylor (director) said that he can’t tell what Grrm said because it is a S8 twist. So even the most j*nerys shipper director couldn’t confirm that j*nerys was sth Grrm told them about. What Grrm told them was a S8 twist, which turned out to be Jon killing Daenerys. I bet they chose the route of a romance instead of them being enemies (Dance of Dragons 2.0 ?!?!?!) so they could shock the audience with the final twist (a poor choice i must say).

So what I am trying to say is that: j*nerys is probably not a book thing. Or at least it can only be one sided in the books. Look at the S7-8 Jon Snow.. they made him so OOC to be in love with Dany... I am sure that Book!Jon won’t be in love with Dany. To be fair, I even can’t see Jon in Dragonstone or etc. Traveling during a White Walker threat is not a good idea. He won’t have such a time to go to DS and fall in love with someone like Dany. Dany is a combination of Cersei, Joffrey, Stannis, Selyse and Melisandre... Can you imagine Jon falling for those? No I don’t think so. I mean there is even dragon glass in Skagos... why would he bother to go DS? And we know that Dragons don’t like North and I can’t image using the fire threat to beat the ice threat... So her dragons won’t be the main forces against the Others. 

I tried to explain why Show!J*nerys was so forced to please the audience and how it was a fan service plot. But still an one-sided j*nerys can happen in the books. There are more foreshowings for this tbh. I am imaging an Aerys-Joanna-Tywin kind of triangle in the books. 

I mean look at this: (I have examined the Jon chapters that follow Dany ones in the ADWD and there were some interesting things. Maybe i’ll write a meta about them one day but for now let’s focus on one hint that I found interesting)

“I want to know. I never knew my father. I want to know everything about him. The good and … the rest.” “As you command.” The white knight chose his words with care. “Prince Aerys … as a youth, he was taken with a certain lady of Casterly Rock, a cousin of Tywin Lannister. When she and Tywin wed, your father drank too much wine at the wedding feast and was heard to say that it was a great pity that the lord’s right to the first night had been abolished. A drunken jape, no more, but Tywin Lannister was not a man to forget such words, or the … the liberties your father took during the bedding.” His face reddened. “I have said too much, Your Grace. I—”

[...]

How beautiful, the queen tried to tell herself, but inside her was some foolish little girl who could not help but look about for Daario. If he loved you, he would come and carry you off at swordpoint, as Rhaegar carried off his northern girl, the girl in her insisted, but the queen knew that was folly.

[A Dance with Dragons; Daenerys]

This is Daenerys’ wedding chapter and she learns about her father’s jealousy about Tywin and Joanna’s marriage. 

And bonus: she also wishes that Daario to take her away like Rhaegar did with his Stark lady. So in her wedding chapter she mentions the love between a Targaryen prince and a Stark lady. 

But she also knows that no one is coming for her. 

And Jon chapter follows this chapter. And he talks about: his dislike for Selyse and Melisandre, kinslaying, daggers in dark, the grey girl. So he won’t like Daenerys either, kinslaying is an important hint (both for Dany-Viserys and Jon-Daenerys) and I bet that Grey Girl is Sansa. 

Now we know that Dany is Aerys 2.0 with dragons and she will end what her father has started by burning down KL. So in this triangle Dany is Aerys. 

And who are Joanna and Tywin? 

The first J+T pair she’ll meet will be Aegon and Arianna probably. They are cousins too and Aegon chose not to be just a consort to his aunt by marrying her, so he’ll probably choose Arianne to gain Dorne’s support. I always consider Aegon (fake or not) and Arianne as a warning for Daenerys about Jonsa. Aegon has parallels with Sansa and Jon (secret identity with different hair color and secret Targ parentage etc). And Arianne has parallels with Sansa (The girl in the tower trope). So those two will be a test for Daenerys before she meets with Jon and Sansa. But her main test will be with Jonsa.

Jonsa fit into Joanna/Tywin pair more. They are cousins and they grew up together and after them being reunited they will be very important for each other. 

And let’s not forget about the fact that Tywin was the Hand of Aerys and he betrayed him and his son Jaime killed Aerys in the throne room... We are all aware of the parallels between Jaime and Jon already. But Jon was also her adviser and she wanted to rule the 7K with him. But in the end he betrayed her. I believe that Jon’s Ygritte arc might be useful for him to lure Dany into some false trust. But him sleeping with her and loving her and later lose her in his arms sounds like a cheap copy of Ygritte/Jon plot and it makes no sense. 

I think Dany will be taken with him and he’ll use this but it doesn’t mean that they will be lovers. Because it seems like Grrm is going to use RLJ in Jon’s romantic life (like he planned in the original/first outline with Jon-Arya romance). And RLJ has no effect on j*nerys. They can still f*ck and marry... 

I mean Grrm even put an uncle-niece marriage (Jonnel-Sansa Stark!!) in the Stark family tree to show that Starks have no problem with marrying with their uncles/aunts etc. Grrm only considers the marriages between siblings and parent-children as incest. So j*nerys is not a doomed love. But for jonsa; RLJ makes everything smooth. Therefore RLJ must be used in jonsa plot.

So Dany is the Aerys of the triangle and no Targaryen prince will come for her because they are busy with their Stark ladies. (Rhaegar- Lyanna and also maybe Jacaerys and Sara Snow?) 

To explain the early Jonsa political marriage, I must say that I was inspired by the Grand Northern Conspiracy. According to this theory, Howland Reed is the keeper of Robb’s Will about Jon and he is also the one who knows about RLJ. 

It does not go north with Galbart Glover and Maege Mormont, who expressly carry false letters, and is often feared lost at the Twins in the chaos following the Red Wedding. Another possibility, however, is that the document was secreted away in Hag’s Mire and has now been retrieved by Lady Stoneheart. Who in turn, for a real kicker of an ironic twist, delivers the suspected proof of Jon’s kingship to Greywater Watch for safekeeping, care of Howland Reed, who then knows more of the crowns Jon’s entitled to than any other man living in the world of ASOIAF.

https://zincpiccalilli.tumblr.com/post/52748381148

Let’s accept this theory and say that Howland has the Will. Without his proof other lords can’t just announce Jon as the KITN. I believe that Howland will be present at Winterfell to show the Will. But Howland was also a friend of Ned Stark. And he is loyal to House Stark. He kept RLJ as secret for years to protect the Starks and Jon from Robert’s wrath. But Robert is dead and he has no reason to keep this secret anymore. And I can’t imagine him sitting quietly while other lords declare Jon as the King while a true born Stark (Sansa) is sitting right there. He wouldn’t betray Ned’s memory like that. So he’ll spill the tea with RLJ too. And after that maybe Sansa will finally have some agency for her choice of husband. So them together will be the one answer of North’s all wishes. 

And let’s not forget that GRRM said he knows which characters will end up married. But in the show there was no marriage. So I am still waiting a marriage. 

And even with an early Jonsa marriage, Jon and Dany might still meet. Imagine S7 with a married Jonsa. Jon leaves Sansa to fight a battle. It would be a great parallel with NedCat. Ned left Cat while she was pregnant to go to war. And maybe there will be rumors about Jon and Dragon Queen just like how Ned betrayed Cat. But like Ned, Jon would be loyal to Sansa and North too in truth. 

Maybe Jon will gain Dany’s trust and help her against Aegon. And return she’ll accept to help North. But in the end I don’t think that Dany will come/or stay in North. Also in the Jon chapter that comes after Dany one, Jon was warned against Dragons:

“Salladhor Saan?” “The Lysene pirate? Some say he has returned to his old haunts, this is so. And Lord Redwyne’s war fleet creeps through the Broken Arm as well. On its way home, no doubt. But these men and their ships are well-known to us. No, these other sails … from farther east, perhaps … one hears queer talk of dragons.” “Would that we had one here. A dragon might warm things up a bit.” “My lord jests. You will forgive me if I do not laugh. We Braavosi are descended from those who fled Valyria and the wroth of its dragonlords. We do not jape of dragons.” No, I suppose not. “My apologies, Lord Tycho.”

[A Dance with Dragons; Jon]

Maybe Dany will want sth more from Jon and will be jealous of Jon and Sansa just like her father was jealous of Tywin and Joanna. Maybe Jon will betray her in most unexpected time just like Tywin betrayed Aerys. 

Btw I am still waiting for a battle between Daenerys and Jon in Trident after he betrayed Dany. (You know Dany dreamed about a fighting against an usurper in ice armor in Trident... Jon will be the Usurper because he’ll be the King of North and Dany will see North as a part of her Kingdom.)

So my timeline would be like this:

- Jon and Sansa reunite and take North back

- The Will and RLJ happen and they unite their claims by marriage

- A dance between Aegon and Daenerys and she loses a dragon

- Jon gains her trust only to use her and pacify her to protect the North during the Dance

- Him refusing the bend the knee and them becoming enemies

- Daenerys loses one of her dragons

- Daenerys and Euron being a chaotic duo for Westeros

- Daenerys burns down KL and marches to North for revenge

- North (aka Jon) vs Daenerys in Trident

- Daenerys dies and Drogon gets hurt

- Jon refusing the throne so he can go back to North (the Duncan of Dragonflies jumped out)

- Bran becomes King

- Jon returns North to fight against the Others etc. (I refuse believe that he’ll be punished and sent back to Wall? Grrm literally has to kill him to free him from Night’s Watch so I don’t see him returning there)

- Epiloge. 

***

Well I talked too much about too many things but I hope my answer was not such a bullsh*t :) 

Thanks again for the ask. Let me know your thoughts. 

[atopvisenyashill]

@natividadmoon GNC = gender non conforming

which, like, Arianne is certainly very feminine and not particularly gnc but i sometimes group her in there bc there’s this conflation of ambition + pride with masculinity in the text, in a pretty clear parallel to the ways in which our own cultures conflate female ambition with acting “improper” and “like a man.” except sometimes it feels like in real life, when talking about female characters who have ambition, some readers will ascribe “being masculine” and acting “improper” with ambitious women.

kind of similar to people making the argument that d&d made yara a lesbian because they are making her “like a man” because “masculine girls are better bc they hate femininity” and liking women is a male thing - but MEN DO NOT HAVE A MONOPOLY ON LIKING WOMEN that’s like, queer theory 101! they made her a lesbian not bc they have such respect for butch lesbians (as IF) but because all asha/yara was in their eyes was a Sexy Pirate Captain and they think women kissing women is hot. that’s the reason, they just fundamentally misunderstand her character because They Are Not Serious People.

So people will hate every single character that a) is actually GNC, like arya and asha or b) are forced to be GNC bc of other ways they don’t conform to westerosi patriarchal standards, like brienne and c) are considered “masculine” by westeros due to misogyny (and racism in Arianne’s case; she would never be considered a proper woman by most of the seven kingdoms already because she’s dornish), and ascribe this like, Male Privilege Lite to them even while internalizing the sexism those characters face in universe.

and it’s sort of like…alright but you (general you, not you you) are also missing the point here, because even tho grrm could certainly be doing it better, he’s making just as much commentary on sex and sexuality as he is war, power, gender, class, etc. like, if you really think sex won’t be involved in brienne’s story line because she’s “above” that or bc you think she’s somehow treated better by society for being “masculine” that’s just like, repackaged sexism, women aren’t above or below sex because sex is value neutral!! it’s how sex is used that gives it any sort of meaning! the regents get alllllllll in their feelings about baela fooling around with boys her own age, and then a lot of fans react the exact same way by saying that a 16 year old wanting to have sex is grrm “sexualizing” or “ruining” her and beyond being a complete misunderstanding of The Themes (he’s clearly poking at prudish religious beliefs and societal preoccupation with Women Feeling Horny, and this is something he does in the main series too!) it’s also just stupid to the nth degree bc no, a 16 year old doing age appropriate sex stuff with age appropriate people is not sexualizing them. there are so many other instances where he does weird writing choices with young girls, writing a female character who is 16 and wants to fight, is shouty, doesn’t like being told what to do, and starts kissing random boys after her fiancé fucks someone else is one of the most normal choices grrm has ever made!!

sex and ambition and fighting and kissing girls are not “male” things, the point of these gnc or “improper” characters is to challenge the notion that anything at all is a male or female thing!

sometimes people will be like “there’s nothing wrong with liking feminine characters” except they absolutely despise Asha, Brienne, and Arianne & every Sand Snake and it’s like no…i actually don’t think your problem is that you like feminine characters i think your problem is that you dislike GNC women, actually

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

🎼 teen idle for arianne 😌💞

ooh okay so this isn’t really one of my main Arianne songs (although it does vibe, but that’s more sonically and the overall vibes than the lyrics) but let’s see what I can come up with!!!  

Also first I just need you to know that I got a comment on my Teen Idle + Effy Stonem video (which was really an Amy video but I also posted it as an effy one bc I wanted validation) yesterday that was someone trying to mansplain “Did you mean teen... idol??? Idle is a verb.... to idle...” like BUDDY ITS THE NAME OF THE SONG

send me 🎼 + an oc/ship & I’ll give you a full breakdown for one of their theme songs

I wanna be a bottle blonde I don't know why but I feel conned I wanna be an idle teen I wish I hadn't been so clean I wanna stay inside all day I want the world to go away I want blood, guts and chocolate cake I wanna be a real fake

“I want the world to go away” is a very solid vibe for her — it fits with wanting the horrors of Beacon Hills to end and with her various mental illnesses but more than anything she just wants the world of Hollywood, the paparazzi, the constant eyes on her just waiting for her to fall from her pedestal, to go away.

Yeah, I wish I'd been, I wish I'd been a teen, teen idle Wish I'd been a prom queen fighting for the title Instead of being sixteen and burning up a Bible Feeling super, super, super suicidal

oooh okay so like this is definitely an Ari vibe!  She really wishes she’d had the opportunity to just be a teenager instead of the constant danger and trauma that comes from being part of the Beacon Hills supernatural world!  Instead of getting to have her teenage rights of passage or even her child star rights of passage, she’s just watching everyone she loves die left and right

The wasted years, the wasted youth The pretty lies, the ugly truth And the day has come where I have died Only to find I've come alive

Okay this part does fit her very well, again with the trauma of being a teenager in the supernatural world of Beacon Hills!

I wanna be a virgin pure A 21st century whore I want back my virginity So I can feel infinity

this isn’t a huge vibe for her but I guess it fits with her regret over her first relationship, Henry Morgan!

I wanna drink until I ache I wanna make a big mistake I want blood, guts and angel cake I'm gonna puke it anyway

Yeah, I wish I'd been, I wish I'd been a teen, teen idle Wish I'd been a prom queen fighting for the title Instead of being sixteen and burning up a Bible Feeling super, super, super suicidal The wasted years, the wasted youth The pretty lies, the ugly truth And the day has come where I have died Only to find I've come alive Come alive, I've come alive

I wish I wasn't such a narcissist I wish I didn't really kiss The mirror when I'm on my own Oh, God! I'm gonna die alone

And I think this could probably fit too!  Ari uses a mask of narcissism to hide her own trauma and insecurities, but at the end of the day she feels like she’s going to be alone forever because she can’t imagine anyone actually loving her

Adolescence didn't make sense A little loss of innocence The ugly years of being a fool Ain't youth meant to be beautiful?

Yeah, I wish I'd been, I wish I'd been a teen, teen idle Wish I'd been a prom queen fighting for the title Instead of being sixteen and burning up a Bible Feeling super, super, super suicidal The wasted years, the wasted youth The pretty lies, the ugly truth And the day has come where I have died Only to find I've come alive Only to find I've come alive Only to find I've come alive Come alive Feeling super, super, super! Feeling super, super, super! Feeling super, super, super! Come alive

[theyruinedeuron]

So I’m rewatching GoT for the first time, with my girlfriend, because she hasn’t watched it before. 

When I first watched all of these episodes, I did so without a critical eye. I used to think, “Hey, they’re just trying to finish a story and George didn’t help them out. I’ll live with these decisions.” Then s7 and s8 happened and I couldn’t excuse it anymore. So now that I’m watching more critically, here’s a little thing I typed up. It deals mostly with s5, which fucking sucks. It does, people. Don’t let That One Good ACtion Sequence fool you. Because that’s what the show became, slowly starting in s4, expanding in 5, and taking full hold in 6. It was writing to get from one Big Event to the next. The stuff in between was just filler. 

The show really takes a downturn when they started writing their own original story lines. They're fairly bad writers. They don't care about logical consistency at all. For instance, multiple times in season 5, once by Littlefinger, and once by Benioff himself, Stannis is referred to as having one of the finest military minds in Westeros. And yet he does nothing to show that at all, and in fact, by letting RAmsay Bolton destroy all of his shit with 20 men and then letting Ramsay just surround him on the field of battle, looks like one of the dumbest military minds in Westeros. When they chose to only do 7 1/2 seasons it obviously meant story lines had to be cut and various side character plots had to be given to main characters. But the problem is, they SUCKED at doing it in a logical manner. Here are all of the absolutely dumb fucking story lines in 5: 1. Sansa being sold to the Boltons. Now, perhaps it makes some logical sense for Littlefinger to make his move on the Throne, what with Twyin dead, Tommen being a weak ruler, Cersei doing everything she possibly can to fuck over the Tyrells, and the Freys essentially taking command of the Riverlands. Ally the Vale with the Boltons and Freys, and you might be able to march South. But Littlefinger specifically says to Sansa that he would put his money on..STANNIS WINNING. Let me say that again, Littlefinger tells Sansa that he thinks STANNIS WILL BEAT THE BOLTONS. So then, why would you ally with the Boltons if you think they're about to lose the fucking war? Now, I get it that Littlefinger probably figures he has no shot at allying himself with Stannis, what with what happened at the Blackwater. But there are other options out there...like, ya know, the Tyrells, whom Littlefinger already has a relationship with. Or the Martells, who despise the Lannisters entirely. 2. Dorne is just a total mess. I wasn't a huge fan of Dorne in the books, and I understand not wanting to introduce 8 Sand Sankes, Arianne, Quentyn, and a Prince Doran who is a much larger player in the books. That's a lot of new characters for a TV show 5 seasons in. Ok. So we have to condense the story and they chose to use the woman who we've already met in season 4. Fine. But, holy fuck is it stupid. First of all, every scene that involves the Sand Snakes is just cringe. But the real issue, and its the issue that plagues the entire season, and eventually the rest of the series going forward, is the total lack of political consequences in any meaningful way. George doesn't let that happen, and when they're following George, you got to see that. JOffrey sucks as a ruler and is believed to be the child of incest? Alright, well here comes a crowd riot wherein Sansa almost gets raped. Ned telling Cersei he knows she fucks Jaime, ordering Twyin to the Capital and the arrest of the Mountain, and then not seizing the Throne to prevent Cersei and Joffrey from taking him out? Ok, there goes his head. Same with Robb. But here, Elia and the Sand Snakes kill the Prince of Dorne and his son and...nothing. THey just...take over. With four people. The entire Dornish army just follows them w/o question. No political consequences at all in Dorne. We're just supposed to assume that assassinations and coups are just easy peasy, over and done. Which flies totally in the face of what we know about assassinating beloved leaders. Littlefinger killed Lysa because she couldn't keep her mouth shut about John ARryn. Had people found out, they'd have executed Littlefinger in the Vale. But Elia? Nah, who cares bro... Then, when they try to still have some semblance of a political drama as opposed to a series based around 3-4 Major Action Sequences a season with various annoying plot points in between, you get the stupidity of Jon being killed. So, they kill him for allowing Wildlings in...after letting the Wildlings in??????? Like....they're already in. Thorne LET THEM IN. In the books, they kill him because he's about to take a Wildling Army South and fight for Winterfell, clearly violating his oaths. By killing him, they actually stop that action. Here..they stop nothing. They do nothing. All of the Wildlings are already fucking south of the wall. Too late. This continues into the later seasons. Cersei, after being found out as a incestuous, not only resumes her role as Queen w/o so much as a peep from the commoners or Lords, but she then kills off 1) Mace, Margaery and Loras Tyrell. One is the head of a beloved House who feeds the capital. His daughter is a beloved Queen who goes out of her way to help the poor and the other is a popular swordsmen who was won multiple tourneys. 2) The High Sparrow, a religious revolutionary who has captured the hearts of the city and the faith 3) Kevan Lannister, the eldest stateman of House Lannister and countless others. And what happens to her? Well, Varys talks a little about how she's hated by the common folk but...that's it. I mean sure, Dorne and Highgarden join her enemy, but they die in the span of two episodes. Totally and completely. And when Cersei loses, it has zip to do with her poor ass decision making. Randomly killing off your allies, your very rich allies (when you're House is actually now broke), is a terrible idea. But she pays no price. She lost for the same reason whoever loses to Daenerys in the books will lose. Whether that's Cersei or fAegon or even Stannis on the Throne when she gets to Westeros. George has beaten us over the head time and time and time again: they'll lose because Daenerys has dragons and they don't. Cersei never paid once for her shitty decisions. Which makes their decision to focus the end of the series on the political element truly disastrous. They stopped giving a fuck about showing any real political ramifications in season 5. Also, I used to be a fan of keeping Beric and not bringing in Lady Stoneheart. I didn't like the character. But, seeing how they had no idea whatsoever how to use Jaime if he wasn't tied to Cersei (and probably just making the decision to keep Jaime with Cersei because they liked Lena too much), I'd have rather had Lady Stoneheart and the plot from the books. Because when they have to get Jaime out of KL for Cersei to 1) Beclown herself and get arrested by the Faith and 2) Blow up the Sept, causing the death of their son, they do so in the clumsiest, most boring ways possible. First, was this Dornish mission, that sucks ass. Later, it's the pointless Siege of RIverrun. Then you've got the really idiotic shit Jaime puts up with. Like, ok dude, you love her even though she cheated on you with Lancel. But, um, she just caused YOUR SON to jump out of the window......and you're still fucking her? What a waste of a character arc.

[benvcliomontague]

Through the Years || Alastor and Amelia

a little birthday present for the loml @ariannes 10.  Her mom calls them butterflies. The metaphor doesn’t sit well, it never has. The delicate flapping of a butterflies wings is nothing like the crackling she feels below her sternum at his cold blue eyes cutting into her-- was it curiosity? Probably annoyance? She couldn’t distinguish the two as she spends the days after Edgar’s first Christmas break rolling the name Alastor around in her mouth.  It was decided- she did not like him at all. The stomach feeling, the look in his eyes, the way he called her Lassie. She was not looking forward to his presence in her life, or in Edgar’s. 

12.  He is so.... Irritating. Cocky Gryffindors, always stomping about as if they own the place. It didn’t matter how well she did on essays, or performed in dueling club-- there was always that side smirk, that aura of Been There, Done that. Stupid prat is only eleven months older than her and yet acts as if he’s sailed to the Pacific Ocean. Edgar, of course, adores him; though he does always have a nurturing streak in him. She has to put up with it, but she was also quite certain that if he ever patted her head again that she would knee him in the groin. Seems like a foolproof plan. 

14. His face when she beats him at Wizard’s Chess: worth a hundred galleons. There is an empty seat next to him most days during their study breaks, and when she sits there he doesn’t complain. Has he always had those cheekbones and that hair? He is still irritating though, still constantly calling her Lassie, pulling her ponytail, ribbing her during meals. But then again she pinches his side, taps her foot on his incessantly, tries without end to scramble his study notes and he.... well, he takes it. Mostly in stride. But he doesn’t-- no, it was silly. It was all silly. He is practically family, a pain in her side through meticulous design and no lingering desire to find or see something more. It is... well, it was ridiculous is what it is. 

15. She is mooning, bloody mooning. Pathetic. One shirtless moment over the summer and she is wringing her hands, unable to even ask him to pass the salt. This is not behavior of the future Minister. No, this was humiliating. The taunts and jabs grew spikes, with added vitriol she hopes that anything would distract from the fact that he is in her thoughts all the time-- one minute translating runes to re-translating them back to spell Alastor. Peace was a joke-- every minute was plagued by does he? does he? does he? The shield that was Edgar’s presence is now a choke hold on her, pressing against her lungs and arms and she wants to scream but is so afraid that he’ll see her and god when did this happen?

16. His mouth tastes like apples. She keeps this little known fact tied up beneath her tongue, afraid that if it escapes it will release everything. There’s a journal now, kept in a drawer below several dusty large tomes that don’t see the light of day. “I want all of it. I want all of you.” It’s reckless and silly and everything she’d wanted for years and years and now she has it and it’s fucking scary. How does one capture lightning in a bottle and keep it? When is he going to open his eyes and see that she’s been fooling everyone all along, and she is no closer to the ministry than she is to learning how to fly without a broom. And yet he holds her hand, hides from Edgar with her, is everything. Bloody soft lips and rough hands and idealistic expectations shattered because somehow the real thing is better. 

17.  She is in love. Horribly, sickly, sweetly in love. It is a love that warps into suggestive Polaroids, taunts and insults mixed between lovemaking and sweet nothings. They are communicating the only way they know how, forming a language all their own, trapping themselves in a room that they don’t want to leave, though they must. He starts the trainee program, and somehow their separation becomes a badge of honor-- look at my auror boyfriend, she thinks, prepping for her NEWTs and knowing that in a few short months they will be together again, fulfilling every wonderful plan, conquering the world in their fists and righting the wrongs so easily committed by those who were, in her eyes, clearly not as dedicated to the cause. 

19.  This balancing act is difficult. There is love, so much love, but it looks stickier, takes longer to dry. She wades through her training sessions, learning and growing and fighting and comes home to a warm body but the harsh words that happen over dinner don’t excite her a much ass they tap into a weariness of her soul, and yet she fires back and it’s passion passion passion, until passion suddenly feels like a bad thing and the fire that she’s been playing with is starting to blister her skin. But she cannot let go, even in the dark nights where they are wrapped around each other like vines. This is love. She knows it to be true as if she knows her own name.  But the whispers are getting in her head, and the tunnel is getting foggy-- she doesn’t know how to walk this road without him. 

21.  The room is cold. Half filled shelves, half empty drawers. She is wanting, waiting to hear that familiar Lassie, to hear the timbre in a space that doesn’t have her choke on the term professional. She aches for him, missing the warmth of his body and the fire of his soul-- there is no comparison, and she’s looked for it. He is love on love on love on love in a box marked “Please open.” She fights the urge to write him, beg him, plead for him to come back. She knows she can’t, that they can’t. The door has been opened, the destination failure. They wanted to change the world together-- perhaps that is best done through bureaucratic channels. For the first time she hates her job. 

24.  There is a balance, though she doesn’t like it. They joke and fight with no heat, taking care not to linger with one another or allow the eye contact to stray. It’s business-- her heart cracks, then reseals. Several years of late night slip ups (she’s not perfect) weigh on her, but it happens-- she lets go. Allows herself to live with what has happened instead of staring at the back of his head, willing him to turn around and goddammit just do something anything to take her back to the place where passion got them through it. But she says nothing, files her paperwork on time, goes on missions with him all wall trying to swallow a big ball of Fine. 

30.  He stands next to her at the funeral, and doesn’t let go of her hand for eight hours. The world is quiet, too quiet, and Amelia is exhausted. There is no question of the bed that she goes to sleep in, the chest that she lays her head on. It is his, and stays his. The roaring fire between them has found it’s way to a fireplace, balance restored in a way that people with ten years less experience cannot fathom, let alone execute. It is a love punctuated by arguments, but brimming with respect and joy. Neither can fully let go of their ways, but there is a permanent reminder that something, namely love, is more important. How they ever thought they could accomplish their dreams without it is baffling. one kid, or three, or none at all later, they find themselves in a home wrapped with love, refusing to buckle to fear, intimidation,or stubbornness. 

The thought gives her butterflies. 

[ignigcna]

𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔.

FULL NAME  :  Nymeria Sand APPELLATION(S)  :   Nym, Mera, Sand Snake, The Vipers Blade AGE  :  32 Years Old BIRTHDATE  :  August 8th, 1987 ZODIAC  :  Leo

GENDER  :  Cis Female ETHNICITY  :  Indian RELIGION :  Vaishnavism

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION  :  Biromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION  :  Bisexual RELATIONSHIP STATUS  :  Single

MAFIA ALLEGIANCE  :  Martell POSITION  :  Assassin DAY JOB  :  Museum Curator FINANCIAL STATUS  :  Earned and Illegal Wealth

𝑷𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆.

FACE CLAIM  :  Kriti Sanon HEIGHT  :  5′10″ PHYSICAL BUILD  :  Lean, Athletic EYE COLOUR  :  Chocolate Brown HAIR COLOUR  :  Dark brown, with medium and ash brown blended highlights DISTINGUISHING MARKS / CHARACTERISTICS  : Two pairs of ear piercings, nose piercing, small tattoo at the base of her neck beneath hairline, bullet graze wound scar on her left side.

𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚.

FATHER  :  Oberyn Martell MOTHER  :  Unknown former Martell associate   SIBLINGS  :  Obara, Tyene, Sarella, Elia, Obella, Dorea, Loreza Sand EXTENDED RELATIONS  :  

UNCLES / AUNTS  :  Doran, Mellario ( A-I-L ), Mors, Olyvar, and Elia Martell, Rhaegar Targaryen ( U-I-L )

COUSINS  :  Arianne, Quentyn, and Trystane Martell / Rhaenys and Aegon Targaryen

SIGNIFICANT OTHER(S)  :  

CURRENT  :  None

FORMER  :  TBA

CHILDREN  :  None HOUSEHOLD PET(S)  :  None

𝑭𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

COLOUR  :  Rose Gold, White, Black WEATHER  :  Autumn FOOD  :  Italian & South Indian BEVERAGE  :  Merlot, Pinot Gris, Bourbon TIME OF DAY  :  Late Evening

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚.

HOBBIES  :  Horseback riding, target practice, watching historical documentaries and dramas  MBTI TYPE  :  ENTJ ( The Commander ) ENNEAGRAM TYPE  :  Type 3 ( The Achiever )

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅.

In the wild, all that is vivid and bright is considered the most poisonous. The same can be said for Nymeria Sand. Beneath her crimson painted lips, and near glimmering exterior lies a lethal predator that never misses her mark. Nym was born and brought up in a world in which blood and violence were the only things she could find comfort in, as they provided both power and a constant that remained unchanged. Abandoned by her mother not long after her birth, Nym was left at her fathers door, and more or less at the mercy of the mafia. She never had a constant parental presence for most her early life, the closet was perhaps her sister Obara though as much as she loved her half sister the two butted heads at every turn*. Her sisters are the most important people in her life, when they need her she’s there without hesitation.

Nymeria was bestowed her father’s attention* when she was no longer a child, as she began to emerge a beautiful and capable young woman. Already she had the attention of many of his soldiers with her coy smiles and wayward glances, always in control never allowing anyone to take more than she was willing to give. And oh the things she could do with a blade in her hand, she was the perfect weapon, and she more than proved her worth to the man she both revered and loathed. Nym was barely of age when she first marred her conscious by taking a life. Though she was her father’s daughter, and soon the kills ceased to even make her flinch. She would merely wash her hands of the blood and any thought of empathy until killing became second nature.

Poison and knifes, are Nymeria’s forte. So often on her ruby lips, dripping from her pointed nails, concealed on the pin prink of a needles she carries the most lethal poisons with careful precision. At anytime, there are no less than three blades on her person, if her attire allows. Though more than the weapons she wields, she’s groomed herself to be the weapon, training routinely to keep herself in prime form, skilling in various styles of fight her long limbs move like a dancers, an acrobats. Her charm is much a weapon as her body, she’s not above employing her beauty to get what she wants, to disarm her targets, to distract and enthrall. She’s more than earned her role as a Martell family agent, an assassin of the highest skill.

Beyond the killer is a woman of many passions, and whems. Her fascination with history and the arts was prevalent from the start and she knew herself well enough to know she needed to pursue her interests for self fulfilment outside her position within the mafia, though it has never taken precedence over her loyalties and duties towards the Martells. Not her work, and not any person she’s found herself close to over the years.

* Details that may be altered after plotting occurs.

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

Platonic

THE BEST FRIEND  :  Her platonic life partner, her closest confidant, who knows her better than she knows herself. ( 0 / 1 )

CAN'T LIVE WITH THEM, CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT THEM  :  A childhood friend who is her stark contrast and because of this they tend to always disagree, but their one of her oldest friends and that’s not going to change. So they just have to agree to disagree.      ( 0 / 1 )

FAMILY OF CHOICE  :  A group of friends that grew up in the crime world, and found comfort in one another. They look out for each other in a fight, always there to clean up battle wounds, there for each other in the good and bad. ( 0 / 4 ) 

Romantic 

TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT  :  The person that got a little too close too soon, without her ever realizing it. Pushing them away was as much about protecting them as it was about protecting herself. Perhaps someone not explicitly tied to the mafia, or at least not to the violent side of things.  (  0 / 1 )

SELF-FULFILLING PROPHECY  :  They both had certain expectations of the other when they began seeing one another, and could never completely get past those and thus their relationship was doomed from the start. ( 0 / 1 )

FATAL ATTRACTION  :  Enemies in the barest sense, though the chemistry is undeniable, and the sex is explosive so they’re walking a fine line. Wanting what you shouldn’t want, the forbidden fruit is always sweeter, etc. ( 0 / 1 )

BETTER AS FRIENDS  :  Someone whom she started out as friends with, then they fooled around a bit only to realize they were better as friends. Things could be awkward since or not. ( 0 / 1 )

Antagonistic

A BITTER RIVALRY  :  An assassin or enforcer from a rival family, they’ve found themselves at odds many times, and would do anything to one up the other. ( 0 / 1 )