#baelor breakspear fanfic

[thetormentita]

broken spear, crowned storm - prelude

"my father was only nine-and-thirty. he had it in him to be a great king, the greatest since aegon the dragon. why would the gods take him, and leave you?"

Pairing: Original female! Baratheon/Baelor ‘Breakspear’ Targaryen

A/n: What if Baelor Breakspear gets the chance to be a great king?

Rating: Teen (+13)

storm's end, 200ac.

The fanfarre echoes in the prairie next to the fortress, and the assistants cheer both jousters.

“Well done, m’lord.”

“Don’t lay it on thick, Willem.” He takes another lance as he observes the audience, proud and showing. What does being the Heir to the Iron Throne worth if he can’t parade himself from time to time?

Another lance broken.

Both knights still standing.

Storm’s End had given them the privilege of enjoying nice days for the tourney celebrating lord Rickard’s birth of his first grandchild, and half of the Seven Kingdoms did not want to miss it. Neither did he. With the protocolary mourning period recently passed, he had the chance to enjoy being himself again, to find pleasure in moments like that one.

When he finally manages to cleanly defeat Alester Manderly, with no need of swords, he returns to his squire, passing by the tribune where a pair of bright eyes catch his attention.

“Who is the lady, Willem? The one in gold and black. Sad smile, beautiful hair.”

“M’lady Alysanne, ser. Lord Rickard Baratheon’s daughter.” He tastes that name in his mouth as the young squire talks “She was married to Olyvar Tyrell, but people say it’s not a happy marriage.”

He observes her from his position. There is something in that maid that calls her attention but he can’t quite tell why. He bites his lower lip, praying to the Gods to keep that woman safe and sound.

As the next knight dares to challenge him, a hedge knight old enough to be his father, he approaches with his lance towards the tribune, slowly, proud as only a Targaryen could be. With the visor of his helm up, he stops his stallion in front of it, all eyes upon him.

“Lady Alysanne Baratheon,” his voice loud and clear, her face showing a expression that could be the mix of curiosity and surprise “I humbly ask for the favor of the fairest of all storms.”

She stands up, and as she approaches him he can feel how his heart skips a beat.

“Good fortune to you, my prince,” she takes a piece of cloth with the colours of the crowned stags and ties it tightly to his lance as she speaks “although I think you may not need it.”

She looks at him with a bright smile upon her face, and he can’t help but do the same.

“It will assure me victory, my lady. I am quite certain of that.”

[bldofthedrgn]

The Dragon Never Dies.

A story in which a Baratheon girl falls in love with a dragon prince ... slowly :)

warnings: too fluffy?? there isnt much crazy stuff happening its just part 1 just baelor being a flirt (maybe a little ooc?) fem reader, no physical description other than typical Baratheon hair color

word count: 1.5k

The sun gleamed brightly upon the onlookers of the tourney. In large stands surrounding two tilts sat lords, ladies, knights, squires, and other high-born strangers alike, all squirming with excitement for the days events. Y/n sat next to her father, Lord Gowen Baratheon and some other meek nobles amongst her father's closest allies. She had never quite enjoyed the company of many highborn ladies, with their gossiping and insipid rumors, and highborn men made her all the more weary.

Y/n's contempt for socialization never steered Lord Tully's eldest daughter Alice in the other direction, however. Sitting next to her best friend was the only thing that made the blinding sun shining in y/n's face worth it.

"Here", Y/n heard "take this". Y/n looked down to see Alice shoving something resembling a fancy stick in her hand.

"What is this?" Y/n questioned.

"It's a fan." A small giggle escaped the red-haired girls mouth at her friends confusion. "Storm's End tends to get quite balmy during the summer, does it not?"

Y/n's expression had become one of realization. "Pardon me, Alice. My mind is elsewhere at the moment." The young lady need not look to her best friend to know the look of question plauging her face. Y/n sighed. "I am hot and bored. I have never had a taste for tourneys, jousts or melees. Most men fight too brutish or too feebly, it makes for a tiresome battle. I might have a more pleasant time had any of these knights been .. more pleasant to look at."

"There are more contestants to come, maybe they will be attractive!" That was true enough, y/n's uncle had yet to arrive. Same to be said for Alice's brother. The thick haired brunette hoped that more knights had entered the lists forbye Edmund and her uncle, for Edmund would forever stay a sweet young boy in her eyes and she did not find the ancient Valyrian custom of wedding kin to kin too appealing.

Alice had always been a positive girl, a perfect balance to y/n's skepticism. Y/n simply nodded in acknowledgment and allowed her friend to prattle on about this knight or that, waiting ever impatiently for the damned thing to start.

A loud, gruff voice boomed throughout the stands. "The final three contestants!" Y/n was grateful to hear the herald begin his announcement. Thank the gods, this weather is unbearable.

"Lyonel of house Baratheon, the Laughing Storm!" Out rode y/n's uncle in his stag-emblazoned arms atop his strapping brown warhorse. Gods be good, Y/n thought. May the Mother have mercy and the Warrior lend my uncle strength.

The girl and her uncle had always been close, becoming akin to a second father to her after her own had been injured in the Blackfyre rebellion. During Lord Baratheon's time of need, the Laughing Storm took on the many responsibilities as needed of Lord of Storm' End. What's more, he took on the responsibility of family; providing comfort to his niece and good sister, praying nightly to the seven for his brothers return to health.

"Edmund Tully of House Tully, heir to Riverrun!" Edmund rode gallantly past the stands sending fanciful ladies in his immediate vicinity into a spiral of swoons, hair twirls, and giggles. Ever the charmer I see. Y/n could not deny that Edmund had grown to be a striking young man. Regardless, he would always remain the boy who'd follow her to her lessons clinging shyly to her skirts. The Baratheon girl gave Edmund a small smile in show of support, which he mirrored in thanks.

"Prince Baelor Breakspear of house Targaryen, The Hammer! Prince of Dragonstone, Protector of the realm, Hand of the King, Heir to the Iron Throne!" Y/n's eyes perked up at that particular announcement, having always had an infatuation with the history of the Dragon. Who wouldn't want to be a dragonrider?

Her eyes searched the gates with eagerness, hoping to catch a glimpse of the dragon prince through the shining sun rays that caught on her eyelashes.

Heavy hooves could be heard, followed by the shaking ground caused by Breakspears great destrier. A maginificent beast with a coat of hair midnight black, matching its riders own armour, tall and powerfully built. A perfect horse for a prince, y/n thought in awe as the prince started past the stands. She hadn't noticed, however, that the royal man had stopped his mount. And he had suspended his trot directly in front of her. Y/n's mind raced with confusion and worry when the broad chested man began to lift his helmet, afraid of what The Hammer himself could want with her. A part of her mind raced with girlish excitement, though y/n would never admit to that.

A mess of short dark hair emerged from his three-headed dragon winged helm, sticking slightly to his forehead from the heat. He truly looked as a Targaryen prince should. Mighty, strong, impermeable as a dragon. His armour, so black the metal swallowed any sunlight, with gold lining and Targaryen heraldry stamped across his chest and shield. Y/n could scarcely remove her eyes from his despite all his royal arms, with strands of his freshly cut storm-like hair falling so perfectly in front of the kind amethysts that sat beneath his steady brow. His face was clean shaven and his nose had a small crookedness to it, no doubt the result of a quarrel or two. Though, the twice-broken nose hadn't diminished his looks. Targaryen men have always been quite handsome, y/n thought to herself bashedly, but Baelor Breakspear was an animal of a different kind.

"Lord Baratheon, my lady." The crown prince bowed, ever the diplomat.

"My prince," y/n's father started, "it is an honor." The Baratheon lord had begun to sweat harder, a smooth sheen of sweat glistening above his brow, though only y/n had noticed. "I am in your service."

Breakspear had the grace to smile, his white teeth somehow seeming whiter in the bright of day. He even has a royal smile.

"I require no service of you, my lord" The prince's voice was not deep, but firm and unwavering holding a kind tone. "I simply wished to tell you that I am gladdened to see your recovery. You are an ally to the realm and a good friend, we have kept you and your good house in our prayers."

Gowen had been taken aback by the princes acknowledgments, though he would not let it show. The raven-haired stag bowed respectfully.

"I thank you, my prince. The recovery was long and hard, but gratefully I am not so easily felled." Lord Baratheon followed with a chuckle.

"That much is true." Prince Baelor offered a light chuckle in return. "I shall hope to treat with you later. And I shall humbly ask for the Lady Y/n's favour in the passes." At that moment the striking prince locked eyes with Y/n, having felt her stare since his trot up to the stands. The normally brazen and confident girl was at a loss for words. She much detested the formality of offering a knight your favour at a joust, but this was the prince of Dragonstone, the future King of the Seven Kingdoms. She could feel her cheeks burning and her chest begin to thump violently, and then came a sharp push to her ribcage.

"Give him the wreath!" Alice scream-whispered into the frozen girls ear. Y/n had never actually been asked for her favour at any tourney, despite her contempt. She had never really been approached by any man seeking more than sin, and even those were few and far between.

The girl began to move, descending as gracefully as her legs would allow in her nervousness. Grabbing a small ringlet of flowers, red and pink, woven together by stem and golden thread, y/n lowered herself over the edge of the stand she sat in.

"I wish you good fortune, my prince." Y/n could no longer hold his stare, her stomach a fury of nerves at the intensity which the Hand studied her with.

"Thank you, my lady." The prince lowered just enough to be in the newly timid girls eye line, forcing eye contact. "Your favour shall give me fortune enough for victory." He winked, small enough for only her eyes, she'd hoped. With a charming smile prince Baelor began his stroll toward his end of the tilt, head held high, waving to the stands of loyal subjects.

Y/n slunk back to her seat, curling her body inward in hopes to conclude with the endless perceiving she had just fallen victim to. She could not deny that interaction had made her flustered, as a princes affection is no small thing. No, she told herself, affection was not present. He was solely being kind, in respect to my father. Simply a formality.

The young lady of house Baratheon could not have been more misguided.

A/n: If u made it this far, thank u for reading :3 this is just part 1 bc im unfortunately a yapper and will make this a slow burn by accident. part 2 to come soon <3 hope u enjoy !

[chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct]

Practicing candid conversations pt one Baelor and Daeny Targaryen

💙

Baelor prepared himself for the Maiden's Day tournament, the dawn's light barely cresting the horizon. The grounds were eerily quiet, with only a handful of knights present. "Good morning, Nephew," came a familiar voice. "Good morning, Daeny," Baelor replied, turning on the bench where he sat. His tone was courteous, though tinged with the weariness of the early hour. "What brings you here so early?" "I wanted a fair chance to scout out all the knights," Daeny said, settling beside him and lifting his helmet onto her lap. Baelor chuckled softly. "And how have the prospects been? Any young knights catch your eye?" He continued fastening a vambrace onto his left arm, his movements practiced and precise. "Lord Blackwood's son gifted me a puppy," Daeny replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I'd show you, but she's with my ladies in the box." "That's a pleasant surprise," Baelor remarked, genuinely taken aback. Most young men interested in the princess kept their distance due to his grandfather's...less than savory attitude towards her suitors. "Is he handsome?" He turned to her, tightening the strap of his other vambrace. "He's a bit... skrunkly," she said with a playful smile. Baelor laughed again. "A skrunkly young Lord Blackwood?" "Most of them tend to be," Daeny replied, her smirk widening.

💜

If you have any recommendations for characters or conversation topics pls let me know! I might not ever really get around to writing a fic but I feel like this is a good compromise 🥲

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

Oh, indeed. There is an incredibly popular quote used in probably hundreds of jonsa graphics and a few metas and no doubt a lot of videos by now, "Stone and snow, that was all that was left of Winterfell. Just like her and Jon." I have no idea where it originally came from, some 2011/2-era fanfic or graphic edit, but it certainly does not come from GRRM. Heck, it's not even grammatically correct and not even really GRRM's style (not that that's ever stopped anyone).

And yet, a few years ago, a jonerys friend asked me to proofread their meta disputing various jonsa claims… and within their essay, they had spent 6-8 paragraphs disputing this quote. 🤦‍♀️ They were extremely surprised to hear it was not actual ASOIAF text that they needed to consider.

And there's so much out there, just like this. Another pervasive one, non-ship related, is “a harp in the tomb, a child in the womb, a dragon in a stone egg”, a nice bit of poetry sourced only from a theory essay postulating Rhaegar's harp is in Lyanna's tomb. People have come to me going, "but that theory must be true, I mean, the poem!" and I had to gently explain he drew the receipts himself.

(lol, well, I say not ship-related even though it's R+L=J, but I tend to think of those obsessed with it (particularly that essayist) more as theory-obsessives rather than ship-obsessives. Not to slight shippers, I'm one myself, but it's a different kind of attitude for text analysis and projection, focusing less on proof of love specifically.)

But yeah, made up or misread jonsa theories are hilariously pervasive -- "the girl in grey" for one (it's Alys Karstark, who came to the Wall as a girl in grey riding a dying horse escaping a forced marriage. GRRM gave the answer in the book the prophecy appeared ffs, the whole story point of the prophecy is that Jon sent Mance and the spearwives to Winterfell to aid "Arya" and thus they ended up in Theon and Jeyne's storyline, but no, Sansa's going to do it all over again just because!) And my Ashford tourney crack theory they stole and misinterpreted (it was about Aegon, and about the fact nobody won the tourney because of Dunk (Sandor, lol, though I'll accept Brienne too), and I've seen people seriously considering it important even though I admit it's almost certainly coincidence and doesn't mean anything! Jonsas aren't the only ones of course, believe me I've seen some tremendous crack in my own ship, but I'm thinking specifically of cases like that where the actual text of the story (Alys Karstark, Mance, Jeyne, Theon; or the historical events of the tourney where Dunk and Egg met and Baelor Breakspear died) doesn't even seem to exist if you're only looking at edits and videos and other fanworks. It gives a wildly bizarre reading of the text if you've never actually read it.

And yes, twitter is full of these cases where the text has become irrelevant, where people make inferences and projections on top of distanced inferences and projections. Not to exclude worg and reddit, where people just make theories-on-top-of-theories, building up enormous cloud castles with no real foundation. Like the Southron Ambitions Conspiracy (textually, the rantings of a lonely paranoid woman), which developed (rationally) into the fan theory that "the STAB bloc formed to remove the Targaryens", but people use that as a basis for so much more, defaulting it as true, even though it is still only an unproven theory! And because it's maester-related and Targaryen-related, it's been mixed with the maester anti-magic conspiracy (very likely true, but also very shadily sourced within the text), into this enormous Protocols of the Elders of Hightower bizarre conspiracy theory that the Hightowers and Citadel want to control all of Westeros and killed all the Targaryens and dragons even the ones who were killed by each other and you can't trust the maester-written Fire & Blood in any way! except it's an inviolate text for the parts you want to be true and nothing is real but everything is, how dare you say otherwise.

Anyway, thank you so much re the term "sourcecreep" and that Jack Sparrow not-a-quote. Fascinating stuff.

@ilynpilled

ppl being more interested in Fandom than the actual source text is so real like they do have their own nonexistent text thats just a recycled concoction of the same bland fandom incorrect quotes tropes over and over again which deviates so much from the canon and they prefer to the actual thing lol

my favorite example of sourcecreep is the fact that if you go on reddit, pinterest, or facebook, or google image search 7 years ago, or flickr and photobucket if you're properly fandom old, you will find image edits of disney's jack sparrow with the quote overlay "the problem is not the problem. the problem is your attitude about the problem."

if you've seen enough of these edits (there are many thousands of them), you might even read those two sentences in his trademark cadence.

the problem here, though, is not anyone's attitude about the problem. it's that this quote has never appeared in any of the five films in which jack sparrow appears. nor in any of the video games he stars or guest-stars on. nor in any of the tie-in young jack sparrow novels or the film novelizations. it is not from a deleted scene or an early draft of any script. it's not from any of the disney park parades or firework shows in which jack is included as a face character with recorded speaking lines. it's not from the original ride or the re-dress of the ride post-dead man's chest.

this is a quote from the YA series the sisterhood of the traveling pants. one of the characters' coaches says it to them in one of the books because they are children in high school. there is no reason for it to be attributed to this character or this franchise besides one patient zero at some point or another 20 years ago making an image with a text overlay on picnik photo editor and uploading it to their livejournal or whatever.

anyway this is how asoiaf fans on twitter absorb information about their favs from the series and then post about it. i believe there are many such cases across fandom at large.

[aegor-bamfsteel]

I was just wondering if you have any Daemon lives AU headcanons where instead of dying he's a hostage (Aegon and Aemon still die)

I have headcanons on what Daemon likes for breakfast (blueberries with clotted cream on toast), so it’d be odd if I didn’t have headcanons for this fascinating but utterly heartbreaking AU. 

See, we know from canon that Daemon takes the knightly code deadly seriously and also desperately loves his family. A worse man may have left Gwayne Corbray to bleed out rather than get him to a maester after a long duel, so he’s willing to put the safety of his opponents over his immediate goals. Furthermore, he refused to leave the field after Bl00draven shot Aegon and died trying to protect him from the field of arrows. Canon also shows Daemon to be a capable individual despite refusal to “cut corners” with dishonor, able to win all battles except the close-fought Redgrass and to mint coins despite less than a year between the start of the rebellion and his death. The idea that Bl00draven and Daemon may have had a closer relationship than apparent is popular in fandom based on BR’s comment in aDwD to the point that some speculate Daemon willingly told Brynden that he would crown himself (I don’t believe he would, but I’m willing to concede Daemon had warm feelings for the boy who was raised in KL with him). Yet Bl00draven had his children shot in front of him. What I’m saying is that watching his sons die due to a brother he once trusted would’ve caused Daemon to become a more ruthless, less compassionate person who would go great lengths to protect the rest of his family. He has to evaluate what family is and to consider that some people might not be able to be “saved” from a broken home, and that he can’t be “the hero” to the people who really needed him to be (in this case, his oldest sons and wayward brother). Think about those AU fics where Catelyn Stark survives the Red Wedding and invests all her energy into keeping Sansa safe from the Lannisters, except the Lannisters were people she loved.

Daemon is in a stronger position than you might think because the Reds have none of his family in custody. Aegon and Aemon are dead on the field, Aegor Rivers is either dead or escaped (I seriously doubt Bl00draven would capture Aegor alive when doing so gains him nothing), and Rohanne escaped to Tyrosh with her younger children (if she hadn’t already, as I’m sure she had an escape ship in case of Daemon’s defeat). So we have a situation where Rohanne with the force of her fleet want Daemon back and those at King’s Landing keeping Daemon I as a hostage to prevent this fleet from attacking. There aren’t any cases in awoiaf that I can think of where the leader of the rebellion/war was captured and not executed, although in the Dance Alicent and Helaena were suggested as headed for the Faith and Maegor’s Kingsguard had the opportunity to go to the Wall, so supposing Daemon doesn’t get executed the Wall may be his ultimate fate. That is, if there isn’t a plot to rescue him from KL (maybe Quickfinger the Notorious Thief is still at large and uses some light-fingered trickery/guard switching).

Baelor, Da3ron II, and Bl00draven rehash their canonical argument about the defeated rebels with the added wrinkle of Daemon still living. Baelor believed in clemency for the supporters of Daemon, so he might actually want Daemon go to trial and face his accusers in Da3ron and Bl00draven (in which case, obviously Daemon is going to want a Trial by the Seven with such Hanging Judges), which may end with a Wall sentence. Bl00draven wants the Blackfyre supporters crushed utterly and would advocate for Daemon’s execution without trial because he believes Daemon too dangerous to be left alive and whatever public statement he makes could lead to rioting. Then Da3ron, who canonically took lands and hostages from the rebels, brings the child hostages to King’s Landing where Daemon can see them from afar (since I don’t believe he’d be let out to mingle with them, but it would make him feel guilty at what happened to these kids “”because of him”” and also might deter him from escape.) All three of them may visit Daemon individually while he’s under house arrest, Bl00draven almost certainly (Daemon refuses to speak to him and does not buy his ‘it’s war so it’s OK to kill children’ excuses like BR hopes, leading BR into a characteristic self-pity spiral) and Baelor to try to convince him to take the black.

Daemon falls into a depression and has nightmares about watching his sons die. He loses weight from lack of activity and appetite, maybe even going on a hunger strike to agitate for certain privileges. Without any hot irons his naturally curly hair gains volume, and his natural resemblance to his mother Daena shines through; the parallels between Daena’s captivity in the Maidenvault and his in the Red Keep, both by brothers, isn’t lost on him (maybe Princess Elaena is allowed to visit and they have a conversation on that). He does quite a bit of writing about his captivity, his family, why he made the decision to rebel (if he did and it wasn’t an unjust arrest) in preparation for a hypothetical trial; if it goes on long enough, he might ask for Daeron I’s Conquest of Dorne to do commentaries on them regarding the nature of war and how “no one welcomes armed missionaries”; whether any of this writing is allowed to be published depends on if it could be smuggled out. Either way, any warm feelings for the current Targaryens he may have had are gone and if he agrees to play by their rules, it’d be out of desire to keep his remaining family away from KL. Da3ron is so paranoid about Daemon’s possible escape that he pulls a Cersei and constantly switches his guards so Daemon doesn’t form any attachments with them. Daemon ends up lonely, and initially is so lost in memories about deceased loved ones he doesn’t even think of escape, but supposing he gains more purpose in escape or getting out his message. 

Either the AU ends with Daemon’s mysterious “suicide” in prison or escape to Tyrosh. Daemon would absolutely lie to Baelor about agreeing to take the black because he could reason that an oath made to an enemy under duress isn’t binding (pre-Redgrass Daemon would probably not do this, but oathbreaking doesn’t seem terrible now), so that option is out. An execution would spark outcry over kinslaying similar to how Aegon II executed Rhaenyra (even though she’s considered an usurper, what he did to her is still thought of as barbaric), and Da3ron II understands this enough so that Bl00draven could kill Daemon in prison and claim it was due to grief over his murdered sons. Taking Daemon’s age, popularity, position in the royal family, and based on BR’s staunch anti-Blackfyre stance and Da3ron’s dislike, staying in Red custody is a death sentence. However, with his escape to Tyrosh, I have the feeling he and Rohanne would live a decent enough life in her city without wanting to go back to Westeros. After Aegon and Aemon’s deaths, an escaped!Daemon would not risk his children’s lives for rulership he doesn’t want or pointless revenge. I don’t even think Aegor still being alive in this AU would change his mind. Then the plot would focus on whether he and Rohanne can still live with each other over what happened with their children, and Daemon’s foray into Tyroshi politics plus more book-writing of the sort he’d do in hypothetical prison.

And now I just made myself sad. But how could I be anything else, as a fan of House Blackfyre?

[thesadboy]

It will never cease to both amaze and disturb me in equal amounts about how certain parts of the ASOIAF fandom will vehemently deny/be willfully blind about how racist they’re being. 

I’ve read the fanfic that this post referenced and holy shit was OP ever right about how a simple yet cool concept that is Baelor Breakspear getting a dragon hatched invited a whole-ass debate thread with people asking “wHy dOeS hE dEsErVe a DWAGON!?” or trying to desperately find reason as to why Baelor is not a good man (smh). Like...Baelor already had a horrible death in canon, can’t you just leave the people who want him to live up to his potential alone? People just wanna see this man live and prosper despite his asshole grandpa and uncle actively trying to undermine him. Damn, was Baelor having his head burst open not enough for you? 

Or this reddit post in r/Citadel asking for fic recs where Sunspear or Dorne gets burned down because they want to see the Dornish “get put in their place”...you know, the descendants of the people who were ENSLAVED. OP really asked for the brown people to be burnt for daring to fight back against the power-hungry descendants of the PEOPLE WHO ENSLAVED THEM. I’m sorry, but as someone who comes from a country that has been colonized by multiple countries and is still reeling from the long-term trauma it has caused, people do not owe shit to their colonizers or anyone who is still trying to perpetuate the different systems that they made.

Then there’re those who cry about how Daeron II “gave the Dornish more than they deserved.” I’m sorry...what? Dorne was literally just forced into submitting to the Targaryens by his dad’s cousin. They suffered immense losses because another Daeron wanted to play at war and decided he’s gonna continue his ancestors’ tradition. No, not the one that is fucking your sister, but the one that is making people bow down to you via giant fire iguana. Daeron the Good was aware how much his namesake fucked up Dorne, and did what he could. The Dornish needed to heal and be respected, not burned and be colonised all over again. 

I am just bewildered by these takes.

[samwpmarleau]

Do you know any fanfics (either long ones or one-shots) where Baelor Breakspear and his sons live into be kings and the main ruling line going forward?

If anyone deserves an AU series where they survive, it’s Baelor, who had more integrity and valour than Daemon or his descendants could ever have.

The only one I can think of is the amazing “Breakspear, broken spear” by @cosmonauthill which has Baelor surviving his wound at Ashford.

If anyone knows of another, please mention it!

[aerltarg]

2, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 26, 27 from ask game

2. Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?

oh, it's actually hard to answer bc pretty often my otps can work as brotps for me as well. it also means that when i can't ship some characters they don't work for me as friends either. not to mention that in asoiaf i'm open to many ships, and if i'm not very passionate about some it's not a sign i can't see them in romantic light.

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

may i say any sansa ship? 😭 as well as sansa herself lmao. idk generally i can't ship characters i don't like because i'm just not interested. and it's not to say i don't like book!sansa (show!sansa is another case 💀), i just don't find her arc as intriguing and epic as arcs of some other characters. however, it's absolutely her obnoxious fandom's fault that i don't want to touch anything about her now, pairings including. sansaery? pass. sansan? i used to have a soft spot for them in my heart but now? nah. sansa x anyone? pls have mercy, she's already a fandom bicycle.

and jonsa ofc. i would never mind some crack ship as i do this one if not for their obnoxious stans that did way too much to list there right now. but this burning desire to persuade every rock on the street that your crack ship is canon will never stop being ridiculous lmao

also braime. tbh i used to low-key like them but some of their stans weirded my away lol. i get that not all of them are like that but still. it's generally my great pain when i see braime/brienne/jaime stans who are also dany/targ antis. every time i see them i cackle and run away as fast as i can crying from disappointment lmao. it's really a pity because i'm either very neutral or like in my own way all three of them.

6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?

jonrya it is! i never hated them, you know, but they never were more than siblings and brotp to me. however, later i encountered the deluded crack ship fandom that shall not be named and understood that if there is any possible romance for jon with any of his sisters-cousins we all know which one it will be lmao. also their stans are very sweet and i really like many of their takes on arya and jon! i generally love relationships of jon and arya very much so it wasn't that difficult in practice to see them in a quite different light.

7. Is there anything you used to like but can't stand now?

meta culture lmao. reading different analysis and interpretations of the text used to be very interesting to me (and still is tbh but in other fandoms) though asoiaf is a different case. imo many people aren't honest in their so called theories and analyses. i get that all of us are biased but some "meta writers'" denial of their own biases influence fandom in a bad way. it looks like too many people run to them to get answers to their questions about any minor detail as if they were grrm himself. yk instead of using their own reading comprehension lmao. you see how this meta culture ruined fandom just looking at the most delusional stans and shippers who spread their agenda by writing endless text posts full of nonsense and bullshit but styled as oh so intellectual and thoughtful analysis. it's insane how many people actually buy it and don't check canon accuracy of such claims themselves. it got to the ridiculous point when random people try to argue with you with some far-fetched embarrassing "theories" as if they were canon facts or quotes straight up from a fanfic because they read somewhere some other confused soul's post and got from a context that this quote is canon (despite the fact that it wasn't written in grrm's style at all but some people can't use their brains even if their lives depended on it it seems).

anyway it's become too long and rambly already so tldr. because of such "neutral unbiased" analyses i got the habit of fact checking almost everything i see in such posts. there's only a small amount of meta writers from targ/dany/jon/arya stans that i trust because i know by practice and following them for some time that they don't pull anything out of nowhere, back up everything they say with canon quotes, don't decontextualize anything and (that is the most important thing to me) are reasonable and open to discussion unlike so many bnfs nowadays.

8. Have you received anon hate? What about?

ah, not in this fandom yet, god bless! i think i'm not loud enough for the needed amount of time to deserve it lol. but since i'm not going anywhere soon maybe one day i will 😂

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why?

robert baratheon and tywin lannister, obviously. tbh it's pretty hard for me to hate any characters because you know. they're fictional lmao. just lines on paper, they can't hurt you. and even such dudes as tywin or robert don't get real distaste from me if they're written well enough. my problem with them lies not only in their canon crimes and shitty consequences of those but in fandom's (or at least some parts of it) unwillingness to acknowledge that they're canonically written as shitty, not as stan/pity/worship material. tywin isn't as clever as some think and robert is a coward outside of battlefield, not to mention some absolutely disgusting denial of his nature from targ antis only because the man happened to be the most vocal targ hater in-universe so these folks feel like he is their main book representative and whitewash him completely lmao

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

uugh idk even. i'm either low-key interested (or used to be at least so i can stay pretty neutral for the sake of nostalgia lol) or too indifferent to really care.

11. Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn't? Why?

all my faves have their own crowd of haters i'm afraid 😭 but let me say rhaegar. even among some dany/targ stans my man is so misunderstood lmao. it's not even his fault i dare say it's fanon about his half-imagined crimes that somehow got widespread to the unbelievable degree. and when i say they're half-imagined i'm being very generous actually. ofc he isn't perfect, no one in asoiaf is. and yes, he's a pre-series dead minor character but almost all little information about him is actually positive, not to mention the narrative itself that doesn't paint him as a villain or just a shitty dude. on the contrary, he's an idealized to some degree dead prince who could've been a good king (like some other historical targaryens, jacaerys, baelor breakspear, aemon son of jaehaerys, etc.), a mysterious yet tragic figure. i have much to say about why it's so popular to shit on him in fandom but yeah. his haters should send their complaints to grrm instead, no one forced the man to write him like that lol. and i mean that no one has to like him ofc. but it's misinterpretation of the text to claim he was intentionally written as a villain or smth by grrm.

12. Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn't? Why?

i don't know if it counts as unpopular but i would say tyrion's arc as a whole because i enjoy his character and like in my own way. i can get why some people don't like him but this man will always have his own place in my heart i must admit.

13. Unpopular opinion about XXX character?

is this unpopular tho?.. ok but renly wouldn't make a terrible king. i dare say he would be better than both robert and stannis. yes, he wasn't shown as perfect and i don't claim this. he wouldn't be the best or the most brilliant or the most just or noble. yet still better than his brothers. his flaws weren't anything other high lords didn't have, his mistakes weren't anything other lords and kings didn't do. in many ways he would make a better job than robert or stannis, too bad he died so early, even though i get why it was important for the narrative.

26. Most shippable character?

well generally for me it's the ones i love the most lol. jonerys/snowstorm is my never dying otp but i admit my sins, sometimes i just see dany with other characters (often from other fandoms pls don't @ me). however, since dany is THE fave of mine it means i would rather twist the other guy or girl to fit into the good match for her than twist her for another character in my new born crack ship lol. and i never stay for too long with the ships with which i feel they don't really fit and don't do justice for each other lol. maybe that's the reason i'm not much of a rare shipper / crack shipper afshdjdb

27. Least shippable character?

everyone i don't like? 😭 as i've said sansa for the reasons above lol. you can insert many others in her place lmao

[lyannas]

anyone else get overwhelmed by the sudden urge to write baelor breakspear/self-insert fanfic

[thetormentita]

broken spear, crowned storm - chapter 1

with the blackfyres looming over the seven kingdoms, sacrifices must be made.

Pairing: Original female! Baratheon x Baelor 'Breakspear' Targaryen

A/n: just changing the timeline a bit. A very special cameo in this chapter!

Rating: Teen (+13)

red keep, king's landing. 205ac

“Turn your hip. Like this.” He places his right foot back, automatically changing his position “The worst you can do in a face-to-face combat is to let the enemy see you as a whole. With less to see, less to aim for.” The kid frowns and tries to imitate his posture. “That’s a start.”

Of course he should be tending other duties, but from time to time he likes to slip away and approach the training courtyard.

He will always be a man stick to a sword.

“Uncle,” the little voice catches his attention “why does Aelor not train with us?”

He tilts his head to a side, realizing how much the boy looks like his father. While Maekar’s older boys had been difficult during their childhood, that kid reminds him of the days they used to spend in that same courtyard when they were his age, when they would pretend to be the Conqueror and his Hand, fighting side by side to unite Westeros into a big and prosperous kingdom.

How much things can change.

“Because your uncle isn’t precisely fond of this kind of things, my boy.”

The boy frowns and the hand with the wooden sword falls to his side. If he had learnt something from his own two sons was to know when a kid was troubled by something. Leaving his own wooden sword on the floor, he approaches the child, just enough to sit on the floor to be at his height, always wanting him to be able to look at him in the eye.

“Mother said I could be a knight like father or you… But I think I wanna help people.”

The kid’s last words are a mere whisper.

“Hey,” he puts a hand on his shoulder, softly but reassuring “it’s okay if you’re not into swordplay. A man can be anything he wants, but you can do even more. If you don’t want to fight with swords, I will not complain. You can always focus on laws, or history, or even become a maester.”

“Like Maester Melaquin?”

“Sure, why not?” he shrugs his shoulders, wondering how would Maekar assume that his son prefers to leave any weapon aside “There are sons from most of the Great Houses that are or have been maesters.”

The child seems to fight to look at him instead of the floor.

“Are you not mad?”

That simple question makes him sigh, realizing how far Maekar and he have gone with the passing of time. They are not mere lads anymore.

“Of course I’m not mad. Your uncles don’t like swordplay, and it does not matter, I still love them and care for them.” Not too far from where they are, the sight of a white cloak calls his attention “Any news, ser Willem?”

“Aye, m’lord.” The youngest of all the Kingsguards, a lad of no more than two-and-twenty, approaches them and stands to attention “A meeting of the Small Council. The King wishes you to attend, m’lord.”

Uncle and nephew exchange looks, and Baelor puts a funny face to the kid, making him smile.

“That’s better” he stands up and shakes the dust from his clothes, specially his pants; it would be a shame to stain with dirt the fancy chairs of the chamber of the Small Council “Go and play with your brother. When the session has finished we’ll get to talk to your grandsire and tell him about your idea.” He can’t help but mess little Aemon’s hair like he likes to do with his own children “Let’s go, ser Willem.” He starts walking and the knight rushes to catch him “Let’s not make His Grace wait.”

They make their way towards the Council Chamber, and the castle seems to be unconnected to reality, far from the thought of a possible oncoming war. Echoes of the last conversation with Daemon Blackfyre come to his head as he climbs the steps towards their destination.

‘I will take what it’s mine, nephew. I will be greater than the Conqueror ever was.’

He frowns as they both stop by the entrance of the council chamber. Taking a deep breath to clear his mind and keep himself as much sober and positive as he can, he opens the doors, leaving the young Kingsguard behind. The lords and advisors inside look up as Baelor enters, their discussions halting abruptly.

“My lords.” he greets as he takes a seat by the King’s left side “Father.” Father and son exchange quick looks, and his intuition tells him the meeting does not bring a menace to the Seven Kingdoms “Well, what is all the fuss about?”

Silence.

As he gets comfortable, his gaze crosses ser Roland Crakehall, Commander of the Kingsguard and close ally. Baelor keeps him in high esteem since his childhood, when he was the first to train him in the courtyard, disobeying Quentyn Ball’s opinion. Who could blame him? The master-at-arms brought by his lord father years ago was prone to give advantage to the then king’s natural sons instead of his own grandson. Ser Roland shrugs his shoulders, and the clanking of his armor threatens to echo in the room. None of them have no clue about the reason of them all gathered there.

The King clears his throat, breaking the tension that has suddenly filled the space.

"Thank you all for coming," his voice is firm but tinged with weariness “there are news about the ‘Blackfyre Rebellion’, as it has reached my ears.” Daeron glances at his half-brother, who is sitting almost in front of him, with a straight back and both hands on his lap, patient. The image of a predator comes to Baelor’s mind as he puts his eyes upon Brynden Rivers.

“The late king Aegon promised his son Daemon Waters the chance to take a second wife, following the Valyrian tradition.” his voice is modulated and for a moment Baelor doubts if he ever blinks “Your Grace king Daeron, here present, denied him that chance as soon as he got crowned, and the matter had fallen into oblivion, but we have news that there are eyes observing the maids or widows of the Great Houses in search for a potential second wife.”

“So what?” he finds himself saying “He aims to be as good as Aegon the Conqueror, and taking another wife will get the opposition of everybody in the Realm. The last king who dared to do such thing was Maegor the Cruel, and we all know how it ended.” as he speaks, he reaffirms himself with the movements of his hands, unconsciously using them to give the rest the image of decision he always wanted to give as heir to his father “There are no dragons to destroy the lands, and a good army can be formed in any time.”

A subtle nod from ser Roland is enough for him to have a tiny warm feeling inside his chest. He can always count with his appreciated white cloaks.

“My prince,” Mace Redwyne’s double chin trembles as he speaks “I am afraid things are not that easy…”

Baelor Targaryen raises an eyebrow, slightly tilting his head.

“I don’t follow you, lord Redwyne.”

The Master of Ships could be quite annoying some times.

“Son,” his father’s voice catches him unarmed “we must discuss matters of succession.”

A cackle echoes on the room. Out of all the Small Council, only ser Roland seems to match Baelor’s mood, even if it is fighting back a smile.

“Nonsense.” Father and son exchange looks “There’s me, and then Valarr and Matarys. I am not even counting the possible heirs they can have. After me goes Aerys, and then Rhaegel and Aelor. And are you even forgetting Maekar and his boys?” as he talks, Baelor can see in his father’s eyes the incertitude he and his siblings had been raised by that man. With a small tilt of his head being answered by the king’s clenched jaw he gets all confirmation. “You can’t be serious…”

“We have a war at our gates, nephew,” he doesn’t turn to face Bloodraven, choosing instead to hold his father’s gaze as a sort of defiance or reprimand “and let’s be honest, out of all that list, the only fit to sit on the throne are you and your eldest boy. Even Maekar if he manages to handle his temper. Matarys is too malleable, and so is Rhaegel. Do you even want to have a bunch of regents feasting over Aelor, Aemon or Aegon?”

Nobody dares to speak.

Baelor hates to agree with any of them in that specific matter, but he would not like to face a rule by Aerys, who does not want to bed poor Aelinor Penrose nor to get an annulment, or Aerion setting everything on flames. Truth be told, he has no escape.

“Tell me you don’t want me to sentence any lady to give birth heir after heir only for the chance of Daemon and his crew slaying us all.”

He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t need to do it.

Out of all the men present at the meeting, the only one who could try and convince him is his father, and only because Baelor knows well the torture he lived under his own father Aegon the Unworthy.

“I would not dare to make you dishonor the memory of Jena.”

“Duty made me marry her, father, do not forget it. I liked her, I cherished her, but I did not love her.” something inside him twists at the memory of the redheaded Marcher “Not as she should have been loved.”

Ambrose Butterwell, his father’s Hand, starts talking about different houses that would have women who could possibly be a suitable wife for him, and all Baelor can do in that moment is to picture the daughter of the lord of Storm’s End. He even allows himself to close his eyes for a moment, recreating in his mind the bright of the Stormlander sun in her hair, showing different shades of black. The memory of her laughter brings a rare warmth to his heart, one he has grown used to and even finds certain pleasure in.

Baelor snaps out of his reverie just as Butterwell’s voice cuts through his thoughts sharply, suggesting a marriage with Otho Bracken’s sister, widow of ser Elmer Frey with six children, that can almost get interpreted as an offense.

For the first time in ages, Baelor can hear Brynden Rivers’ fight back a guffaw.

“With all due respect, Butterwell, you are a pathetic little man and you should not be sitting here with us.”

Despite his respect for his uncle, he has always been quite distant with him, but in that moment he can’t be any closer.

“Enough you two.” he takes a deep breath before turning to face his father again, observing ser Roland fighting back a chuckle. “If I must remarry again, I shall choose the lady and be the one to talk to her.” King Daeron’s face shows a mix between amusement and irritation “I choose lady Alysanne Baratheon.” A tense silence fills the room following Baelor's declaration.

“House Baratheon has no suitable maid to be a queen consort.”

“Says who?” a raised eyebrow in Baelor’s face challenges the rest of the men in the chamber.

“The actions of lady Alysanne’s great aunts, my prince.”

A snort of amusement.

“And my own father was a disgrace and a cunt, Butterwell, and it does not mean that our king or his heir, presents here both of them, are to be as disastrous as he was.” Brynden Rivers, the last people Baelor expected to have as a defender of his will, modulates his voice to almost echo in the place “With his choice, prince Baelor keeps the Stormlands close, and the strength of one of the most effective armies in the whole Seven Kingdoms.”

...

By the time he realizes where he is, his steps have already driven him towards his destination. As he opens the door after a soft knocking, a pair of big indigo eyes look at him, accompanied of a soft smile in a clean shaven face.

“Do you like storms, brother?”

He should he used to Rhaegel’s dragon dreams, but this time the question catches him with his guard lowered. He hesitates for a moment, looking at his brother with a mixture of curiosity and concern, even tempted to ask if he knew something about the council meeting. A hint of a crooked smile decides to answer him.

“What did you dream?”

After closing the door behind him, he approaches the table where his brother, the third son of Daeron the Good and Myriah Martell, the only other child apart from himself to share any trait of Dornish blood and the one whom he feels most comfortable with, takes a look at a book with clear interest. Taking a chair, he sits in front of him, observing each and every movement and quirk.

“A red dragon flying towards the greatest storm ever.” his voice just a mumble, his eyes scanning quickly each and every letter on the volume.

“I do like storms,” he finds himself saying as he tries his best to read any piece of that text able to attract Rhaegel’s interest “but what about the dragon?” the youngest of the siblings shrugs his shoulders “Red as our arms?”

“Possibly. I do not know.”

He was just a boy when he knew about those kind of dreams, when little Rhaegel used to wake up from time to time scared, with a myriad of questions fighting to get out of him and find any answer. Each time, he felt a mix of helplessness and determination, wanting to protect his younger brother from the ominous fates those dreams foretold, learning how to deal with his restlessness and spending as much time with him as he could trying to help him give any kind of meaning to the visions.

“What are you reading about?" he huffs, knowing well the reason he has gone there in the first place "I just got out of a council meeting. They want me to marry again. It seems there are not enough valid candidates in case something happens to me or Valarr.”

“I don’t want the throne. Nor the council. I don’t know those people.” he blinks twice before raising his gaze to meet his “Marry again? With who?”

“They kept suggesting different ladies. I told them I want to propose to lady Alysanne Baratheon.”

“Storm’s End.” Rhaegel mutters, distracted for a second, slightly frowning.

“That’s right."

“Do you think the storm of the dream has to do anything with her?”

“It can be.”

His brother’s brow furrows, thoughtful, and Baelor knows he has to give him time. Silence fills the room as Rhaegel searches for the right words, inches away from an epiphany or dismissing the connection entirely.

“Do you know her?” Baelor shrugs his shoulders, and Rhaegel puts a face, not fully understanding.

“I met her in a tourney some time ago,” his mind drives him to that sunny day “Rickard Baratheon’s eldest grandchild was born and he held a hastilude. She was there, with those bright eyes of hers and a very sad smile. I asked her for her favour, and— I swear I would have killed a giant to be able to caress that hair, Rhaegel. I mean it. She is so—”

“You are smiling.” it takes Baelor a moment to realize his younger brother’s observation “Is it a happy smile?”

“Aye” he bites his lower lip, feeling again that warmth inside his chest.

“Then I think you should do what makes you happy.”

[thetormentita]

broken spear, crowned storm - chapter 2

peace is something so valuable yet so fragile.

Pairing: Original female! Baratheon x Baelor 'Breakspear' Targaryen

A/n: let's put some order into the Baratheon family tree! Valarr is just some jeaaaalous boy

Rate: Teen (+13)

“So, you are leaving.”

He doesn’t turn to face his own son, who had eluded every single white cloak or guard to, apparently, lecture him.

“Aye, just for a few days. Apparently I still have to make sure there are enough heirs to the throne in case you and I die.”

A moment of silence. Possibly the same thoughts he had during the meeting run through young Valarr’s mind.

“But there are enough! Mataerys, your brothers and their sons as well! How can—?”

His eyes spot the silken cloth, soft to the touch, with a small prancing stag embroided in it, resting in his cupboard, away from the rest of the world, and he takes it, carefully, before turning to face his son.

“I love my family with all my heart, starting with you and your brother, but you know as well as I do that things may twist, and the sort of ideal situation of our house may turn to ashes in case Daemon Blackfyre decides to start a war.”

Valarr Targaryen clenches his jaw, clearly upset at his father's words but understanding the gravity of the situation. The room is tense, the air thick with unspoken fears and the heavy burden of responsibility.

“Where are you going then?”

“Storm’s End. We need support, and right now the strongest army lies there. The Baratheons are proud, and possibly difficult to handle, but Lyonel Baratheon will not reject a good fight, and they will be flattered to host a Targaryen prince under his roof.”

“And how do you know they will accept? You look really sure, father.”

A sigh escapes his lips, a hint of longing and determination in it.

“It seems our house still has the need of heirs, and I will propose to lord Lyonel’s sister” clear surprise makes his eldest child raise both eyebrows, fighting to find any word to answer. “The lady Alysanne is a widow, married young to the then lord of Highgarden. I met her at the hastlitude of Storm’s End, some moons before the pasing of his then husband and a year after your mother’s.” Baelor bites his cheek, giving himself a moment to find the words he needs. “I do not intend to replace your mother with her, be aware of that. Lady Alysanne has gone through three pregnancies and with proper care here in King’s Landing she may be able to go through more and give birth to the heirs so seeked for your grandsire.”

He tries his best to hide his feelings towards the Stormlander, basically because he doesn’t know how she will react, but to think of her as a mere brood mare makes him sick.

“Did any of those pregnancies—?”

“I spoke with Bloodraven. Apparently she had a tough time as the lady of Highgarden and none of them were successful.”

“How can you be so sure that here she will start giving birth to babies?”

Baelor sees disconfort on his son’s eyes, and he can’t blame him. He may have felt the same if his own father had told him that he was to propose to another woman after lady Myriah’s passing.

“Intuition, my boy.”

Deep down, he refuses to recognize that a small part of him denies to accept that he is indeed scared of the future. Jena’s death had been hard, specially for both his sons, and created a necessity inside him he did not even know it existed. He had tried to fulfill it with his own duties and his family, sticking close to them, as if he was the concrete to keep the wall together.

But none had been there for him at that extreme. Nor they would be.

“I— I want to go there with you.”

“Valarr…”

“I want to, father.”

...

As soon as they leave the hut, claps of thunder announce the arrival of one of the biggest storms of the season. Despite being tradition in the Stormlands to pass each and every Autumn witnessing the destruction caused by the weather, they grew up used to it, and made to endure.

“We must hurry, m’lady. Maester Theomore said this one is going to be huge.”

Echoes of thunder along the bay give her goosebumps.

"Come on, let's get moving then," she approaches her mare and leaves the folded parchment in one of the pockets of the leathered saddle, carefully wrapping it first in a cloth to protect it from a possible wetting. One of the guards quickly reaches her side and helps her mount the palfrey, getting a polite and considered thank in exchange

As they leave the little fishermen village of Dawncoast behind, she closes her eyes for a second, enjoying the chill breeze announcing rainfall. With only the sound of the horses’ hoofs against the floor, and the branches of the trees dancing in a way that seems they are invoking tempest, Alysanne Baratheon can feel how each and every worry leaves her body, finally being able to be herself after all those years of pretending. She lifts her face just in time for the first raindrop to hit her cheek, smiling softly to herself. Shehad always found solace in the rain, a rare moment of peace amidst the chaotic world she inhabited.

A thunderclap echoes in the bay, as if the gods themselves were about to start a war.

Despite their efforts to avoid it, the downpour reaches their position sooner than any of them expected. Rain soaks through their cloaks, but Alysanne doesn’t mind. She is more than pleased with raindrops rolling down her skin.

When she was just a child, her lady mother used to tell her tales of old, legends of how the gods of the sea and thunder modeled those lands and its people, how their ancient seat, one of the most ancient fortresses ever built in the Seven Kingdoms, was built with spells, and promises of love, and bravery and defiance. Lady Elinor had cared for her four little stags as the most loving mother, but for her she kept a special tenderness, a recognition of the wild spirit and fierce heart that mirrored her own.

They are bordering the Howling Hill when a sudden lightning flash illuminates the landscape, turning their surroundings into a stark contrast of shadow and light.

“Fifty stags on your brothers getting mad at us, my lady.”

A cackle. Famed is the temper of the prancing stags, and still their own household has not get used to manage it for their own good. Alysanne is the youngest of them, the most accessible in times like these, and the one the guards and maids think they can trust when time comes to placate the fury of her kin.

The silhouette of the ancient seat of the Storm Kings shows itself, proud and untouchable. Its towering walls stand as a testament to time and tradition, drenched now by the heavens, but unwavering still. Aly nudges her mare forward, her eyes straining through the downpour to catch a clear view of the castle's gates, and before she can even notice, she has her escort surround her as a sort of unneeded protection.

Thunder rumbles in the distance as they approach the towering gates, half-anticipating the reprimand waiting for them inside.

“Open the gates! Open the gates for the Lady Alysanne!” the other guard shouts, and the guards upon the walls of the fortress rush to obey, maybe expecting a roar of anger from the youngest of the Baratheon siblings.

The rain goes heavier as they cross the fortress’ gates, the relentless drops soaking them to the bone. Once inside, Alysanne shivers, instinctively drawing the wet cape tighter around her shoulders with little effect, her mind only thinking of sitting by a flaming hearth and asking for some broth to warm her chilled bones.

“You just couldn’t wait, could you? You had to go out and risk getting sick” Lyonel Baratheon’s voice rings out, echoing off the stone walls of the hall. His blue eyes scan her with a hint of annoyance as some maids approach to take their dripping cloaks. “What were you thinking about?”

“It had to be done” she shrugs her shoulders, her piercing gaze meeting his, a clash of storms inside the very fortress that saw them grow up. “If we make haste, by the time Winter comes we will only have to worry about getting enough log for the hearths.”

Lyonel huffs, his frustration tempered by the understanding of Alysanne's relentless determination. Their father used to jest about them both being twins despite one being the oldest and the other the youngest of the siblings, and only the years she spent far from Storm’s End managed to soften the now Lord Paramount.

“Go and get changed before you catch a chill,” Lyonel insists, a touch of softness creeping into his tone as he raises a hand pointing to the stairs leading to her chambers. “We will talk later.”

Alysanne gives a curt nod before making her way up the stairs, her boots leaving wet prints on the ancient stone steps. The servants around her try their best to not slip and fall as she dishevels her hair, dripping wet, with little care. Once inside her chambers, Alysanne sheds her damp clothes, wrapping herself in a thick, woolen blanket by the fire as Rielle, her lady mother’s former maid opens the dresser and picks some clothes, leaving them over the bed for her to choose.

“Lord Lyonel was only worried for you, my lady,” Rielle speaks gently, tucking a lock of hair behind Alysanne's ear with maternal care, the old Riverlander being the only one allowed to look upon them all, carelessly roaming the fortress as if the stags were his own offspring. “Autumn storms are always unpredictable, and he cares deeply for you.”

Her gaze meets the woman’s dark eyes, silently, as in some kind of understanding. Compelled by Rielle's warmth, Alysanne softens, grinning faintly.

“If it were for him I would just rot by the window, sewing as the world outside forgets that I even exist.”

The woman’s tender hand upon her cheek comes as a surprise, but she finds herself leaning against the touch, swearing that if she closed her eyes the feel would be pretty similar to her mother’s.

“He’s not to blame, you know. His concerns come from love,” Rielle reminds her softly, and she has to give up, because that woman took active part in the birth of them all and nursed them against her breast anytime they felt like.

“Aly.”

He doesn’t even bother to knock, because Gowen knows she seldom locks her door— a habit, she suspects, left over from childhood. He steps into the room, shadows from the corridor clinging to his form like a cloak, the sound of his boots muted on the thick carpet as she gets her hair dried with a cloth by one of the maids.

“What is it?” Her voice is sharper than intended, but the storm outside makes her uneasy, and Gowen's abrupt entrance hasn't helped. For a moment she thinks she should apologise, because Gowen means no harm, he is still that young lad who had given her a dagger for her to protect herself on her way to Highgarden because none of her brothers could be there for her.

“The guards have spotted riders coming towards our gates.”

“So what? Give them shelter if they're weary or turn them away if they're not welcome," she replies, setting the cloth aside and slipping off the seat, her feet driving her towards the bed as she puts on the clothes picked by Rielle: a simple yet elegant gown of deep green wool, enough to spend the rest of the day locked in the fortress.

“They bear the king’s colours.”

Still with her hair wet, she pauses, looking back at Gowen with a mixture of disbelief and urgency until his words really reach her, making her rush out of her chambers, barefoot, only to quickly return to slip her feet in a pair of soft leather shoes. She hurries down the corridors, the echoes of distant thunder mirroring the drumbeat of her heart. Close to her rushes his brother, the youngest of the sons of the late Rickard Baratheon, who joins her as they near the main hall. His eyes, a sharp contrast to their stormy surroundings, carry the same urgency as hers. They only stop by the stairs, when the sight of the newcomers leaves her breathless.

Her eyes spot half a dozen men, all well armed but not well dressed for an Autumn south of the Kingswood. It takes her a moment to recognize the man leading them, the chiseled features and intense gaze unmistakable, once buried into the depths of her memories.

“Baelor Breakspear,” she breathes, a name almost forgotten as it rolls off her tongue, and the inquisitive blue eyes of her cherished Gowen meet hers, reflecting a mixture of confusion and excitement; now they would not have the need to discuss their preparations for the oncoming cold.

Once her heart settles, she keeps on with her path, quickly descending the stairs to join the group gathered in the hall as she keeps ordering the servants to prepare spare rooms for their unexpected guests. As she approaches, Baelor's eyes meet hers with a flicker of recognition, and a hint of a smile plays at the corners of his lips, making her heart skip a beat.

“Your Highness.” She curtsies once she reaches Lyonel, whose face reflects the same mixture of perplexity and curiosity as Gowen’s, and possibly hers as well. “Be welcome to our home.”

Baelor Targaryen inclines his head respectfully, his demeanor powerful yet carrying a weary grace. The man could compete with Lyonel, being only just a few inches shorter than her eldest brother, who keeps his hands at his back, trying to maintain his dignified posture despite the evident surprise.

She doesn’t recall the wetness of her hair until Lyonel’s side glance, quick as his sword, traces a drop falling from her temple.

“It seems the rain has caught us all off guard,” he observes, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “We are most thankful for your hospitality on such short notice.” His voice carries a warmth that matches the fire crackling nearby, and she finds herself oddly drawn to the depth of his gaze.

“Our doors are always open to those in need,” it is Lyonel’s time to show himself as the host he never expected to be. Clearly missing his bedridden wife, sweet Marya, he almost forcibly leans on her, trying to show their guests that Storm’s End did not forget hospitality after the Dance of the Dragons. “Come by the fire. Allow us to prepare hot water tubs in your rooms and some dry clothes before supper.”

The Crown Prince exchanges looks with a young lad as the rest of the party gladly obey. She notices how the young lad's eyes mirror the storm outside, a mixture of awe and expectation.

“What do we owe the honour to have you under our roof, Your Grace?”

Alysanne raises an eyebrow at Gowen, not noticing Lyonel’s simillar gesture. None of them had expected him to drop the big question.

“There are state matters that need to be discussed” Baelor hesitates only for a moment before responding, his voice steady despite the unexpected inquiry. “The Crown has a soft spot for the Stormlands and its fierce loyalty, and one of our goals is to ensure it lasts for at least another century.”

She realizes the gaze of the young man upon her, almost with a lack of decorum, only leaving her to observe her brothers, as a sort of analysis of them three. Only when her eyes spot the three headed dragon brooch upon his clothes she realizes that Baelor has not traveled alone.

“With your permission, we would like to go straight to the point, lord Baratheon.”

The lad stands straight, his stance reflecting a mixture of Lyonel’s and Baelor’s, as if he himself wanted to display an aura of authority.

“Then do speak your mind.“ Lyonel raises both eyebrows, almost urging them to reveal the purpose of their trip and spare them the formalities. Baelor exchanges a glance with his companion before nodding, silent, and place his dark eyes upon Alysanne.

"Our interest lies in the unification of our Houses," Baelor continues, his gaze unyielding and intent. “The Crown wants to count with the Stormlands in case of future wars to come, and with lady Alysanne to be its future Queen.”

[thetormentita]

baelor breakspear

broken spear, crowned storm (series)

“my father was only nine-and-thirty. he had it in him to be a great king, the greatest since aegon the dragon. why would the gods take him, and leave you?”

[aegor-bamfsteel]

I had this fic idea where: Calla, Haegon, their mother and youngest siblings didn't escape and they were taken as hostages in the Red Keep. Calla kind of ends up "playing the game" and trying to forge a better life for her mom and siblings while trying to overcome her trauma of losing her brothers and dead, her anxiety over Daemon II not being around and not having any contact with him and Haegon most likely going to the faith. And she also has survivors guilt. Basically this is a "Calla plays the game while trying to survive" (this includes her glaring at BR and lowkey planning his death, finding Matarys endearing because he's actually fairly nice and so is his brother/dad, she also looks like her mom. OH AND SHE DYES HER HAIR QUITE OFTEN)

Basically my question was: how much would have changed if Calla, Haegon and their mom and younger siblings didn't get to escape?

That’s a really interesting, elaborate fic idea, dearxstorm! If you end up writing it, make sure to link me and I’ll write a comment! Calla has the potential to be an interesting character, and your characterization of her in the prompt sort of lines up with my own (having the Sweetness hiding Steel personality); I like the idea of a psychological story of her dealing with the loss of her family while trapped in a court that hates her at best. I also like your headcanon that she dyes her hair, because it’s a physical identification with her mother’s people; all too often, in asoiaf as in other works of fantasy, the heroes of noble families identify more with their father’s house at the expense of their mother’s (the young Starks identify more with their father’s house to a lesser degree than the others, but even the young Greyjoys are krakens rather than Harlaws, the young Martells don’t consider themselves half-Norvosi, forget about Aegon V + siblings identifying themselves as something other than the blood of the dragon), and it’s the villains that tend to include parts of their mother’s heritage (the Baratheons of king’s landing include a lion in their sigil, the Greens from the Dance of Dragons owed their initial success to their Hightower mother). In addition, Essosi women are almost to a woman treated horribly in Westeros; divorced (Mellario, Larra), exiled (Rohanne), or tortured and killed (Mysaria, Tyanna, Serala, Serenei), so it’s great you decided to single out Rohanne’s Essosi influence on her children as something neutral to positive.

As for your question about what would happen if Calla+family didn’t manage to escape, I asked warsofasoiaf about it years ago; his response that Bl00draven would’ve had them all killed, while certainly in-character (his consistent character trait is harming boys to accomplish his goals), isn’t particularly satisfying for writing a fanfic with these characters. We see Da3ron II took lands and hostages from those who knelt; Lord Bracken’s son died during the Great Spring Sickness, perhaps as a hostage in King’s Landing; Eustace Osgrey’s daughter and only heir Alysanne was sent to the Silent Sisters at age 7, while Standfast went from a prominent lordly house to one of landed knights. Daemon’s lands and titles were likely under attainder, being of fairly recent creation. In Westeros, killing (mostly male heirs) or sending to the Faith (more likely female heirs) the child rivals to one’s lordly power seems to be the norm (most infamously Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen on Tywin’s orders, but also Cerelle Lannister by her uncle Gerold, Rohanne and Cerelle Tarbeck were sent to the Silent Sisters and Rohanne’s young son was likely murdered during the Reyne Rebellion, the extermination of Houses Darklyn and Hollard bar one after the Defiance of Duskendale). So I tried to look at examples from medieval history to see if I could save the younger Blackfyre boys:

As much grief as I give GRRM for not being historically accurate while claiming he’s true to life, the gendered fate of young male and female rivals who were captured seems to pass muster: with boys usually being killed or “disappeared” (Arthur of Brittany was imprisoned then murdered by his uncle King John of England, the Princes in the Tower mysteriously vanished with the prime suspect as their uncle Richard III) and girls either imprisoned (Arthur’s sister Eleanor was imprisoned for 44 years until her death by her uncle John and cousin Henry), forced into a convent (Gwenllian Princess of Wales by Edward I, Joanna la Beltraneja was given a choice between this or marrying her infant cousin Juan by his mother Isabella of Castile), or married to steal their lands/unite claims (Arthur’s mother Constance was betrothed to his father from age 5 after her brother was forcibly disinherited from the duchy of Brittany, and I’m still not sure what happened to him; Eleanor de Montfort was eventually married to Llewellyn of Wales after she was captured and imprisoned by the English). 

I think the best hope for the Blackfyre boys is for them be rescued and taken to Tyrosh (although Bl00draven would probably try to separate them to prevent all of them taken at once). 

A longer-term option is for Rohanne’s relatives in Tyrosh to try to negotiate their release, probably with a solemn oath never to return to Westeros (happened with the Charles VII’s cousin Charles Duke of Orleans who spent 25 years in various English prisons after his capture by the English at Agincourt until his old rivals the Burgundians negotiated his release; Amaury de Montfort, despite having taken holy vows, was captured along with his sister Eleanor and only by swearing never to return to England and the Pope plus Llewellyn intervening was he released).

Failing that, maybe Baelor Breakspear could try to go ‘the Dontos Hollard route’, asking for clemency out of the boys’ age/birth, and sending them to King’s Landing as squires, and probably make sure they don’t return to their old lands. I doubt they’d be allowed to wed, but I suppose Rohanne could petition for a restoration of Daemon’s old lands to House Blackfyre (as Anne Scott managed to save her lands from her husband Duke James’ attainder after the Monmouth rebellion, and her two surviving sons by him were able to marry and inherit and were loyal to the crown), and they could be wed into a loyal Red house of Da3ron’s choosing; it’d be her grandchildren inheriting these lands (Elizabeth I imprisoned her cousin Katherine Grey for the rest of her life for secretly marrying and had her separated from her two sons, but they were allowed to marry and her grandson became the next Duke of Somerset, despite his family reputation). Not Daemon II if he’s been captured with the others, but possibly Aenys. I’m not saying this is a likely scenario considering the characterization of Bl00draven and the actions of Da3ron II to the other children of rebels, but it’s a kinder solution that maybe Baelor might come up with.

I don’t imagine that these boys will be sent to the Faith, but rather the Night’s Watch seems to be the place for defeated rebels/men sentenced to death; so in all likelihood at least the elder ones could be sent to the Night’s Watch once they’re old enough. Westeros as well as medieval history has shown how easy it could be to take someone from a convent/monastery and use them to take their lands/incite a rebellion (Robar abducting Rhaella from the Faith; Marie of Boulogne was abducted from her convent by Matthew of Alsace to forcibly marry him to steal her lands), plus these vows can be undone (at least in medieval Italy, where sometimes cardinals had to leave the Church to get married to continue their family line; it’s implied in the sentences of Lucinda and Priscella that septas can break their vows) so I think at least the elder ones would not be allowed.

The Blackfyre girls have a higher chance of not being murdered. The worst case-scenario that I could unfortunately see happening is sending them to the Silent Sisters along with poor Alysanne Osgrey, which seems to happen to the most dangerous of noblewomen (rebel queen Marla Sunderland, sasser-of-kings Maris Baratheon, Ellyn Reyne’s daughters Rohanne and Cerelle), all potential heiresses for another rebellion (not likely with so many brothers, but if they manage to escape and another uprising coalesces around them who knows). Another option would be to the Faith to be septas, which happened to more minor noblewomen men wanted out of the way (Rhaella and Megette’s daughters for their “inconvenient birth”, Lucinda Penrose and Priscella Hogg for their roles in the plot to kill Daenaera). 

A particularly painful scenario would be confining them in the Maidenvault until/if a new king decides to release them as their grandmother Daena was. Considering that the next king is Aerys, I doubt they would be released (like Eleanor of Brittany) or marry

It seems not uncommon in Westeros for an ambitious man to marry an heiress of the previous ruler to become suo jure lord of her lands (Tyrek Lannister’s marriage to the infant Lady Ermesande Hayford, Dickon Tarly’s marriage to Eleanor Mooton, Lancel’s marriage to Amerei Frey to steal Darry, and most famously Orys Baratheon’s forcible marriage to Argella Durrandon). The problem with doing this in regards to the Blackfyre girls is that considering their father’s lands are probably under attainder, they don’t have lands to inherit, much less a dowry. Of course, Rohanne could try to petition for a creation of new lands, possibly in exchange for giving up their claim to the throne (Princess Renee of France gave up her claim to the duchy of Brittany in exchange for being made duchess of Chartres by King Francis I, so she could finally be allowed to marry). Another idea would be to send them abroad for matches to Essosi cities the Reds have ties to, such as Lys and Pentos. In a happy scenario, the Blackfyre girls were allowed to marry with permission; to show that Da3ron is serious about healing the realm, he or Baelor could betrothe Calla and Matarys (not expected to inherit the throne; your prompt said they were getting along!). What happens after his death in the Great Spring Sickness is anyone’s guess.

In the edgy scenario, the girls marry without permission, possibly to a Velaryon descendant of Baela’s (just going by my theory of at least some Velaryons as Blackfyre supporters); it seems in medieval England that some potential female claimants to the crown did marry secretly to men with more distant claims (Lady Katherine Grey as mentioned before, but also Lady Arabella Stuart two generations later, to Grey’s own grandson), thus frustrating the desires of their monarchs to marry them abroad. Sometimes they were able to escape their captors and raise their children in exile, eventually allowed to return to their home country; the most famous of these was Margaret Beaufort and her son Henry, who later won the English throne by right of conquest with weak dynastic claim.

A lot of these scenarios ignore the canonical cruelty of Bl00draven and the vindictiveness of Da3ron with regards to the Blackfyres and their supporters; I don’t imagine that they would show mercy to the defeated rebels, and warsofasoiaf’s scenario that they would all be secretly murdered is definitely a possibility. They also ignore Rohanne’s characterization (such that it is) of a take-charge noblewoman who was in my opinion unquestionably a pro-Blackfyre rebel that used her money and influence in Tyrosh to provide a home for the exiles and orchestrated their escape (the idea that Aegor Rivers helped Rohanne escape to her own country seems to diminish her achievements); I don’t think she would be asking the Targaryens for any favors, considering in canon she knew them well enough that she preferred to flee than surrender to the House that gave Bl00draven high office. Barring the “Bl00draven kills them all” scenario, I don’t think she would be executed due to her sex and that she’s from foreign nobility (especially if her male relative was still Archon), but we have no idea if the Faith is an option for her (did she convert? Considering the characterization of GRRM’s other Essosi women as holding to their homeland’s traditions, I doubt it); it’s likely to me she would be separated from her children, who would be governed by Red supporters (maybe if Rhaena is still alive, she could coach the girls?), an emotionally hard punishment for her (considering all of her canonical actions involve her children, it seems she loved them very much). It’s possible she might be sent back to Tyrosh as a gesture of goodwill to her family, after some years of confinement; or she could be sent to a remote location, like Cassandra Baratheon upon a forced marriage to Walter Brownhill.

tl;dr If the Blackfyres and Rohanne aren’t going to be murdered after being captured: the boys would likely go to the Night’s Watch once old enough, or imprisoned in the Red Keep and married under ideal conditions; the girls might go to the Faith, imprisoned in the Maidenvault, married off to non-Tyroshi Essosi, or secretly married; Rohanne would likely be briefly imprisoned, separated from her children, and either sent to the remote countryside or Tyrosh. What happens to them depends on how merciful the Reds are feeling, and how much of a risk they deem them to be. Just expect that if someone leads a rebellion in their name, for the boys to die. 

[samwpmarleau]

ASOIAF top 5 game. Answer the following 5 questions, and then send this message anonymously to 5 people. (i) top 5 favorite characters (ii) top 5 most disliked characters (iii) top 5 favorite ships (iv) top 5 most disliked ships (v) top 5 favorite fanfiction

*it’s 3:30 a.m. so outside of the top two or three, i’m sure i’ve forgotten/misordered several of these (for instance i guarantee there’s others i hate more than sybell but i can’t think of them atm)

i. top 5 favorite characters

elia

nymeria (the person, not the wolf)

catelyn

maekar

baelor breakspear

ii. top 5 most disliked characters [aside from the obvious abominations]

rhaegar

robert

daemon blackfyre

randyll tarly

sybell spicer

iii. top 5 favorite ships

arthur x elia

robb x rhaenys

rhaella x doran

arianne x daemon

daeron x mariah

iv. top 5 most disliked ships

almost all sansa ships

almost all lyanna ships

ned x ashara

elia x rhaegar

daenerys x daemon

v. top 5 favorite fanfics

i couldn’t possibly choose a top 5. you can check out my fic rec tag or my AO3 bookmarks though