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a-libra-writes · 2 years ago

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as I wallow in my fever filled misery I binge your blog for most of the day and i absolutely love it, i hope it's okay if i ask for whoever you want from ASOIAF with their sick s/o love you

Im sorry this is hittin so late anon! I hope you recovered well~ Here's a couple peeps for ya.

Brandon - He's terrible at noticing when he's getting sick himself, and actually sitting and resting ... so while Brandon will notice when your energy is low or you don't feel well, he doesn't worry until you finally collapse. Then he feels terrible while he carries you back and you're set up in a spare room (he wouldn't mind sharing the bed, but he's already been lectured to death by the maester about what a bad idea that is. He doesn't care he probably sneaks into the spare room anyway.

Because Brandon is restless on a good day, so when you're feeling ill and awful, he's distracted. He keeps thinking about you throughout the day, and checks on you often. If you're not improving, he's doggedly following the maester around and hovering and trying to be useful and just ends up getting kicked out. Everyone's relieved when you finally improve, and yes, he gets sick because he couldn't stay away but it barely knocks the guy out. Not fair.

Ned - Ned would be the one who notices your energy dropping and the loss of appetite in combination with the change in weather. It's especially uncanny if you're someone who doesn't get sick often, and he still figures it out. He's also the type who offers you warm food and rest early on, in hopes you'd shake off the cold early. It's all fun and games to tease Ned about being a mother hen until your sickness gets worse and you're stuck in bed. Great. He won't say "I told you so", buuut he still laughs a little when you complain about being stuck in bed all day.

Ned feels bad about you having to be holed up in a spare room, though, but at least you're in one of the heated ones. He visits at least three times throughout the day, bringing whatever you need and keeping you company if you'd like it. If you're the sort who wants to be totally alone when you're sick, he respects it, but he's gotta stop by to at least say goodnight. Also, it's just Ned's luck that he gets sick just days after you do, every. single. time. It's usually worse, too.

Benjen - He does what he can with what's available at the Wall. While he keeps his usual jovial self up around you, wanting to encourage you, he privately worries about your health. Benjen sneaks in extra furs and extra food - If anyone catches him, all he has to do is drop the smile and glare them down. It's surprisingly effective. He'd like to stay by your side all day and night, but he can't risk getting ill himself and there's work to do.

So Benjen comes in in the morning and late evening, starting by giving you a kiss on the brow, then making sure you're comfortable, then showing off whatever he snuck out of the kitchens. He's got a nautral and relaxed bedside manner, but can be surprisingly stern if you try to get up before you're ready. Maybe if this was the South, but the Wall isn't the place to risk it. Oh and he gets sniffles and sick later bc he kept up with the kissing.

Stannis - What a surprise, Stannis matter of factly states you're in no condition to go about your usual business, and you ought to set up in the spare room. Maester is called, food brought, medicine taken, done and done, right? Back to work. The thing is, if you often ask for him and you're clearly not feeling well, he has a difficult time getting back to his duties. He tells you many times to call a servant, but the guilt actually starts to bother him, especially if you get worse before you get better. Stannis sits on the very edge of the bed (his bedside manner is hilariously bad, don't worry,) and keeps asking you to go back to sleep and stop chattering.

His own health actually isn't that bad, especially considering the seige, but guess what. That one time you got out of bed to get something yourself, he caught you and irritably carried you back? That's what gets him. Stannis still doesn't get as sick as you do, but he's definitely bellyaching about it while you take care of him.

Oberyn - He's the sort of man whose either a godsend when you're sick, or driving you up a wall. It depends! If you want constant attention and fussing, Oberyn will indulge in your neediness all you want. He rather likes it, feeling like he's helping even if you don't immediately improve. If you want to be left alone to puke and snot in peace, well ... he has a hard time staying away. Oberyn wants to be the one bringing your medicine and food, whatever you need, and he wants to stay and linger. Even if it's just to chat, or run his hand down your back.

And yes, he’ll still want to share the bed unless you’re in an absolutely awful state. You'll have to kick Oberyn out eventually, or just move to one of the guest rooms yourself, otherwise he’ll get sick - except he never does, the jerk. Must be all the citrus.

Ashara - She's also the sort of person who would pick up on the weather changing and the change in your attitude, and point out you're probably getting sick. She says it so suddenly, and it's so early, you wouldn't believe her ... aaand two or three days later, you're laid out in bed. Just great. Once the maester is done with his business, Ashara likes to visit if it's just a cold. She's smart about being careful where she touches you, not getting too close, avoiding your cough, she even brings a citrus fruit basket and implores you to eat some. Her bedside manner is lovely too, and she brought your favorite book? Alright, this isn't so bad.

She will stay away if you start getting worse, and it just makes her worry more. In that case she's making sure the maester is bringing in gifts, even if you feel too poorly to enjoy a book or a bouquet of flowers - it's about knowing that someone cares and is worried about you.

Asha - It's straight to the spare room with you. Nope, no whining, no ifs or buts, no kisses no matter how much you whine about it. Asha loves you but she is not about to have you snotting and coughing all over the bed. At least she's not about to let you be totally miserable, Asha's pretty good about barking at you to eat more and drink water. There's not a lot in the way of medicine on the Iron Islands, but Asha's recovered from some pretty nasty spells before. She figures you'll do the same.

... There's some worrying when it takes a while. If you try to be stubborn and suffer through what's probably pneumonia, then Asha will drag a maester over from the greenlands by his ankles. Hiding weakness like a proper Ironborn is all well and good until you're coughing blood, then she calls you a fool and fusses endlessly.

Roose - He'll tell you that you're getting sick, and mention you ought to do something about it. His suggestions are pretty terrible, though - no, Roose, you aren't drinking that weird wine or doing leeching or bleeding or whatever. You're fine. Except when the flu finally hits, and you're fighting off his damn maester with a stick. Weird treatments aside, Roose seems like his aloof self, though you're also too addled by fever and congestion to pay attention to his comings and goings. He's actually keeping a close eye on your progress and more or less threatening the maester and servants that he expects you to improve within a fortnight, as if they can directly control it. Well, they better figure something out.

Getting worse means Roose actually ending your sickroom, as if there's something others have missed that only he can see. He spends a lot of time ... watching, and while his face is impassive, there's worry. A lot of worry. He might start disposing of the help and this maester if you don't get better. A lot of the irrational, explosive bloodlust anger that he's spend years burying down is starting to bubble up and there's not a lot of outlets for it. Once your condition turns around, it calms itself, if only for a while. He still won't forget his servant's incompetence.

Jaime - For seasonal colds and a yearly flu, Jaime is gonna avoid you like the plague because a) he hates getting sick and b), all the snotting and vomitting is gross. ... And Jaime's actually not good at dealing with a loved one whose ill, both in the sense it's difficult to see them that way, and he has no idea what to do. You think his father gave a damn when he was ill, or let that be an excuse to stop training? You think his siblings had any idea what a good bedside manner was?

It's easy for him to tease once you're recovering and able to leave the sickroom, though his barbs aren't as pointed. It isn't easy when you aren't recovering quickly, or when you get worse. He doesn't know what to do with himself, so Jaime acts out in a way, threatening the maester, being in an irritable mood, having no way to help because this isn't his area of expertise.

#i feel like i did something similar but i have no ideaaaaa #anyhoo!#game of thrones x reader #got x reader #brandon stark x reader #ned stark x reader #benjen stark x reader #stannis baratheon x reader #oberyn martell x reader #asha greyjoy x reader #roose bolton x reader #jaime lannister x reader #ashara dayne x reader

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untilmynextstory · 5 months ago

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we're falling like stars

we're falling like stars | Elia Martell x Brandon Stark

chapter 02. Just For A Second, It All Felt Simple summary: Elia visits the North and finds it warmer than expected

The North was warmer than she expected. Although most described it as a frozen wasteland, Elia found beauty in the fields of snow and the icicles that formed on the limbs of trees and corners of the homes. Yes, it was cold, but the air felt pure. It wasn’t clogged with the filth and deceit surrounding King’s Landing.

Elia greedily sucked in the clean air, and she felt that instead of all the maesters poking and prodding through her life, maybe the best course of action would have been making a trip up North. After being shown the hot spring and allowing Ashara to convince her to dip into the water, Elia felt more refreshed than she had in a long time.

She felt even warmer as she watched the children of the small folk and those of the castle play in the snow. They were eager to show her how to build a snowman, snowball, fort, and anything else they could conjure with their imaginations. The atmosphere was so reminiscent of the Water Gardens that it made her wonder why Dorne and the North had just become allies and sought allegiance.

She smiled as Ashara tempted her husband into another dance. Elia wouldn’t be surprised if their son Jon got a new sibling soon. She was happy her friend had found someone to love and truly respected her.

She felt bad that their wedding didn’t get the celebration it deserved. Before the war, the two had wed in secret. Only with Ned’s friend Howland Reed as a witness.

Elia tried not to be hurt that she couldn't attend her friend's wedding, but her future had been uncertain. She was glad her friend had found a pocket of happiness for herself.

She had offered her friend the opportunity to re-marry in the Sept of Baelor, considering the South followed the Seven. Yet, her friend had politely declined. Ashara was going to take her husband’s faith in the Old Gods. However, Elia knew there were other reasons for her declining; after all, Ned was the quietest of the Stark siblings. He probably didn’t want any more fanfare or attention brought to the family, and despite Ashara’s beauty, she knew her friend preferred a quiet life as well.

It was rare for people in their position to form friendships with their partners and even rarer to marry for love. She was glad her friend at least had that comfort; even if a few of the bannermen of the North were discontent, they were losing another Stark to a Southern. Elia suspected it would fall on the youngest Stark, Benjen, to marry the daughter of a Northern house. She knew the Manderlys were very loyal to the Starks, but she knew the Manderlys would rather set a match for the newest granddaughter born like the Karstarks.

Yet, despite the disgruntlement, it didn’t stop the men from partaking in the Fall Solice Feast and ale provided. Besides, she could see that Ashara’s beauty was already disarming some of the men along with her wit, given how loud the Umbers men and mountain clans laughed at her jokes. She knew the women of the mountain clans and House Morment were impressed with Ashara’s skill with the blade as somehow they had some ace throwing game up for amusement. Elia had been slightly concerned about blades being around such drunk men, but unlike the South, honor was not taken lightly, and with the presence of a Queen, things weren’t too rowdy.

But she was glad her presence wasn’t hindering all of the celebrations. Besides, she was insistent on being Elia Martell, a friend of Ashara. If there was any shadow over the feast, it was from the second party that came to Winterfell, and it felt like the Long Night had come again.

Elia sighed at those thoughts. Throughout the night, she could occasionally feel the sad grey eyes as she was greeted with more conversations. Some of her felt bad, but actions had consequences, and the North remembered it as something she heard frequently.

Elia stood up from her place at the high table. She didn’t want to contribute to the feast with ill thoughts. She knew that her slight reprieve in the North would be coming to an end. She didn’t want to think about who awaited her back in King’s Landing.

Winterfell was much easier to navigate than King’s Landing.

Ser Jaime followed behind her at a respectful pace. She didn’t know whether to laugh that the man she could have been betrothed to had become her sworn shield and one of her true friends in King’s Landing. They both were aware that they were, for all intents and purposes, hostages during the War. And she knew most would question her on becoming friends with a Lannister. Elia was not blind to Tywin’s ambitions, but always playing the Game of Thrones was tiring.

He was silent as he followed her to the godswood.

She recalled Rhaenys enticing the knight in a snowball fight with the other children. She didn’t think she had ever seen her children so happy. She prayed she could convince their father to allow her to take the children to the Water Gardens. Rhaenys had been there once after she was born, but she knew her baby girl had no memory of it.

The music of the Great Hall became fainter as she got closer to the weirwood tree. The lanterns were still lit, illuminating the pathway to the thick, mangled roots of the tree. When she first laid eyes on the massive tree, it had taken her back. She found the face craved deeply into the wood grotesque. She could only imagine the image of the face with the red sap staining its cheeks. She questioned how anyone found comfort in such a haunting image.

Yet now, she couldn’t tell if the face was laughing or crying. It looked somber, and she prayed that the Old Gods would watch over her friend and new family. She knew they had suffered enough for others' choices. Her prayers were interrupted by a branch snapping, which startled both her and Jamie. The latter placed his hand on his sword.

Elia released a breath of relief as she took in the sight of Brandon Stark, the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. She recalled the first time she saw the Northman at that fated Tourney. There were whispers about him being the wild wolf of the North. He was tall, handsome, and had a smile that could disarm any maiden. Even Elia imagined she would have been disarmed if she wasn’t a married woman.

She could only imagine that Brandon used his ruggedness to his advantage. She could recall how he had saunter over to where she sat with Ashara. At first, she was in slight disbelief a man with a known betrothal would ask for the hand from a single lady. Yet, he had approached her on behalf of his very shy younger brother.

And it pained Elia to admit she tried her best not to think much about the Starks, considering what happened after the tourney.

She hadn’t even wanted Rhaegar to attend Brandon’s wedding to Catelyn Tully. Yet, with the North forming alliances with the South and the marriage between two great houses, someone from the crown needed to be there.

No one could have known the folly that Rhaegar and Lyanna would cause. Brandon should have been enjoying newlywed bliss, but after one night with his wife the next day, his sister and the Prince were noticeably absent the following morning.

The second time she saw Brandon Stark was when he stormed King’s Landing, demanding the Prince’s head. She didn’t know whether to consider the man bold or stupid. Yet, when all the dust settled, she wondered if he regretted leaving his wife's comfort.

Elia stood from her perch of the mangled root. “I hope I am not intruding, Lord Stark.”

The man was quiet as he appraised her. “The old Gods aren’t discriminating. I hope they were able to provide you some comfort.”

Comfort was a luxury Elia hadn’t known since the start of her marriage. Elia turned towards Jaime, “Ser Jaime, you are dismissed for the night. You can enjoy the remainder of the party.”

She could tell both men were surprised, but neither commented vocally.

Jaime left reluctantly while Brandon stood tall and still. His grey eyes gave away nothing. No longer was he the boy who stood defiant in front of King Aerys, wanting his sister back. He did show all his anger and contempt for Rhaegar. The wolf’s teeth were bared then.

She heard whispers that he was now a timid, tamed wolf. The flames of Aerys and Rhaegar burned him.

“I would like to thank you for the kindness the North has shown me during my stay.”

Brandon didn’t speak at first but moved closer to the godswood and laid a flattened palm against the roots.

“It’s your husband we don’t care for,” he replied boldly. Maybe he wasn’t timid at all. She could recall when he was finally released from the black cells after Rhaegar’s victory at the Trident. Despite his body showing the physical toll of captivity, she felt, if warranted, that he could have struck Rhaegar down as the truth was revealed all around them.

She knew the only reason Brandon had been calm was because of Ned and the knowledge of his newborn son, Robb Stark, waiting for him at Riverrun, partially an orphaned. She could recall the day the news leaked to King’s Landing of Catelyn’s pregnancy and, eventually, the tragedy of the birthing bed. Aerys had been most delighted to share that news with the young Lord.

But she could tell that Brandon and most likely all the North despised the new King. Not even Lyanna could drench that anger. After all, considering the cold welcome Lyanna had received for the feast, which was also a delayed celebration of Ned’s wedding and the birth of his heir, it seemed that Lyanna was no longer part of the pack.

She knew that even with how much Ned had tried to seek harmony with his sister, it wasn’t the same. She knew Lyanna tried to converse about little Robb and little Jon and wanted to be an Aunt to the boys. She knew letters to the North were never answered. Ned would never answer on Brandon's behalf.

As much as Elia wanted to intervene for the sake of Aegon, the tense relations with the North were something her husband needed to rectify. She bled enough for him.

“Besides, you are not at fault for the actions done to you by others. If the South cannot appreciate you how you deserve, at least the North can - will.” Brandon continued with honesty.

Brute words were a refresher compared to the honey words she was constantly surrounded by.

“The hospitality is much appreciated, Lord Stark.”

“Brandon, your Grace. Please call me Brandon. We are practically family now,” drawled in that thick Northern accent. Ned’s wasn’t as thick, which she suspected due to his fostering from the Vale.

But Brandon’s voice was a thick rumble that made the hairs on her neck stand up. She smiled. “I suggest you call me Elia in private as well.” Elia made herself comfortable back on the roots of the weirwood. She inhaled the fresh air. “It is lovely here, Brandon.”

“Ready to swap the sand for snow?”

Elia’s heart warmed at the mention of her home. Not King’s Landing, but of Dorne and its warmth and the sand. “I believe little Robb would enjoy the Water Gardens immensely.” Elia wasn’t foolish enough to entertain an offer of a visit. She knew Brandon had no plans to go below the Neck and suspected he would not be fostering his son either.

“Yes, the Water Gardens. Ashara speaks fondly of them. It’s how you two met, correct?”

Elia nodded. “Yes, all children of Dorne are sent there no matter their station.”

“Maybe, one day…” Brandon paused and released a breath. “Maybe one day, Robb could see Dorne with his uncle and cousin.”

“He’s a lovely child. I never met such a small one with such manners.” Elia commented. The two-year-old had been nothing but a proper little lad. At first, she couldn’t see any of Brandon in the boy with Tully’s coloring. However, she had watched the boy with the other kids - the girls - and she saw a flash of Brandon Stark as the boy smiled and preened in the attention of the older girls, especially her Rhaenys.

Brandon huffed. “I imagine he gets that from his mother. Gods know I didn’t act like that as a child.”

“Did you know Lady Catelyn well?”

Brandon scratched his beard. “To be honest, I didn’t want the betrothal. But I knew my duty, and it wasn’t Catelyn’s fault. I…the day of the wedding, I was a miserable prick…but that night I had with her, it could have been something. I have Robb now, but she should be here, and I only wonder if I didn’t…run off maybe -”

Elia didn’t think as she grabbed Brandon’s hand. “You can’t think like that, Brandon. Don’t pick at that scab. The birthing bed…is always precarious for us women, and you can honor Lady Catelyn by raising her son to be a good and honorable man.”

Brandon squeezed her hand before he realized the position and snatched it away. “Sorry, Princess, I mean your Grace.”

“Nothing to apologize for.”

“I would like to thank you for accepting Ned. He always speaks so fondly of you…considering the damage my family has done -”

“Please, don’t apologize for the actions of others,” Elia interrupted. As much as Aerys was responsible for the discontent the realm was facing and planted the seeds, Rhaegar had watered those seeds and nurtured what happened.

For Elia to play her role, she didn’t know it was best not to pry on to the honeyed reasons Rhaegar has told the betrothed Stark girl. It didn’t matter, considering what the actions had brought. It would not erase the pain she had felt.

It wouldn’t change that Elia had to bear the consequences of their actions, not them.

And she didn’t want to linger on them or the pain of their past. It was a well she was tired of drinking from.

Instead, Elia pointed up at the cluster of stars above them. “Tell me the tales of your stars,” she requested from the wolf.

Brandon obliged her, and it seemed all so simple for a moment. She wasn’t a betrayed Queen, and Brandon wasn’t a battered wolf.

She was just Princess Elia Martell of Dorne, and he was Brandon Stark, the wild wolf of Winterfell.

Elia didn’t know what it meant when Ashara discreetly passed her a letter. She and Ned stopped by King’s Landing before heading to Starfall, but she wasn’t surprised.

The only thing she was surprised by was that Brandon Stark had a gift for poetry.

[masterlist] Note: This was actually the original chapter for Elia Week 2024, so think of it as a prequel to the first chapter posted. Also, I am posting early as I will not be near a computer tomorrow. I hope you guys enjoyed this!

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #elia x brandon #elia martell #elia x rhaegar #elia martell fic #elia martell x brandon stark #elia martell lives #brandon stark #ned stark x ashara dayne

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