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esther-dot · 1 year ago

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Do you think Jon and Sansa will meet again at Castle Black, and from there, they will plan to take Winterfell? Or will Sansa take Winterfell on her own and reunite with Jon along the way? I’m of the idea of two lost souls who, when united, find the strength in each other to take the land of their family. But I don’t know, I haven’t finished the books yet so I need guidance on this.

I don’t consider myself an ASOIAF expert, anon so I don't offer guidance, but I will def share my thoughts with you!

In order to talk about this, I'm afraid there are some ADWD spoilers, though. If you mind that, maybe revisit this post after you've read it? Short version, I agree with you. Sansa should be involved in retaking Winterfell because we need a Stark there:

Battles had been fought at Winterfell before, but never one without a Stark on one side or the other. (ADWD, Jon VII)

but I think the reunion happens first because of the The Girl in Grey theory. I'll explain more below the cut due to the major Jon spoiler.

In ADWD, a character named Melisandre tells Jon about a vision she has:

She stood beneath the scorched stones of the Lord Commander's Tower, cloaked in darkness and in memory. The light of the moon was in her hair, her red hair kissed by fire. When he saw that, Jon's heart leapt into his mouth. "Ygritte," he said. "Lord Snow." The voice was Melisandre's. Surprise made him recoil from her. "Lady Melisandre." He took a step backwards. "I mistook you for someone else." At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red. He did not understand how he could have taken her for Ygritte. She was taller, thinner, older, though the moonlight washed years from her face. Mist rose from her nostrils, and from pale hands naked to the night. "You will freeze your fingers off," Jon warned. "If that is the will of R'hllor. Night's powers cannot touch one whose heart is bathed in god's holy fire." "You heart does not concern me. Just your hands."

"The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you." "I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? Melisandre seemed amused. "What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?" "Arya." His voice was hoarse. "My half-sister, truly …" "… for you are bastard born. I had not forgotten. I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. Coming here, to you. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will." She gazed at Ghost. "May I touch your … wolf?" The thought made Jon uneasy. "Best not." "He will not harm me. You call him Ghost, yes?" "Yes, but …" "Ghost." Melisandre made the word a song. The direwolf padded toward her. Wary, he stalked about her in a circle, sniffing. When she held out her hand he smelled that too, then shoved his nose against her fingers. Jon let out a white breath. "He is not always so …" "… warm? Warmth calls to warmth, Jon Snow." Her eyes were two red stars, shining in the dark. At her throat, her ruby gleamed, a third eye glowing brighter than the others. Jon had seen Ghost's eyes blazing red the same way, when they caught the light just right. "Ghost," he called. "To me." The direwolf looked at him as if he were a stranger. Jon frowned in disbelief. "That's … queer." "You think so?" She knelt and scratched Ghost behind his ear. "Your Wall is a queer place, but there is power here, if you will use it. Power in you, and in this beast. You resist it, and that is your mistake. Embrace it. Use it." I am not a wolf, he thought. "And how would I do that?" "I can show you." Melisandre draped one slender arm over Ghost, and the direwolf licked her face. "The Lord of Light in his wisdom made us male and female, two parts of a greater whole. In our joining there is power. Power to make life. Power to make light. Power to cast shadows." "Shadows." The world seemed darker when he said it. "Every man who walks the earth casts a shadow on the world. Some are thin and weak, others long and dark. You should look behind you, Lord Snow. The moon has kissed you and etched your shadow upon the ice twenty feet tall." Jon glanced over his shoulder. The shadow was there, just as she had said, etched in moonlight against the Wall. A girl in grey on a dying horse, he thought. Coming here, to you. Arya. He turned back to the red priestess. Jon could feel her warmth. She has power. The thought came unbidden, seizing him with iron teeth, but this was not a woman he cared to be indebted to, not even for his little sister. "Dalla told me something once. Val's sister, Mance Rayder's wife. She said that sorcery was a sword without a hilt. There is no safe way to grasp it." "A wise woman." Melisandre rose, her red robes stirring in the wind. "A sword without a hilt is still a sword, though, and a sword is a fine thing to have when foes are all about. Hear me now, Jon Snow. Nine crows flew into the white wood to find your foes for you. Three of them are dead. They have not died yet, but their death is out there waiting for them, and they ride to meet it. You sent them forth to be your eyes in the darkness, but they will be eyeless when they return to you. I have seen their pale dead faces in my flames. Empty sockets, weeping blood." She pushed her red hair back, and her red eyes shone. "You do not believe me. You will. The cost of that belief will be three lives. A small price to pay for wisdom, some might say … but not one you had to pay. Remember that when you behold the blind and ravaged faces of your dead. And come that day, take my hand." The mist rose from her pale flesh, and for a moment it seemed as if pale, sorcerous flames were playing about her fingers. "Take my hand," she said again, "and let me save your sister." (ADWD, Jon VI)

The vision keeps coming up and dictates some of Jon's decisions. Jeyne Poole (Sansa's friend) was forced to marry Ramsay in the guise of being Arya, she escapes, and people expect her to reunite with Jon and be the girl in grey (escaping a marriage, she was pretending to be his sister). Others point to Alys Karstark who runs to Jon to escape a marriage. The problem is, Mel doesn't know who it is, she only knows sister. People pick Jeyne because of the Arya connection, but neither she nor Alys are Jon's sister. And Jon has another sister, Sansa.

I would argue the reason that the girl in grey is Sansa (ie Sansa will flee North to escape LF's plots and reunite with Jon before Winterfell is taken/she is in a position of power), is if you read Jon's passage about the girl in grey, Jon being dead is written all over it. His white breath, the reference to him as a stranger, Jon telling himself he isn't a wolf...you see, here is the major spoiler...

Jon is assassinated at the end of TWOW.

Now, he may not actually be dead-dead, some of us have said he might be in a coma like Bran, but a) we believe he warged into Ghost (I am not a wolf--he will need to come back to himself, not lose himself in Ghost), b) the stranger = Jon is dead, c) the white breath = his body being cold cuz he's dead etc. The other side of this is, the way Jon sees Mel and remembers a different redhead can be viewed as foreshadowing for recently undead Jon seeing a redhead and mistaking her for Ygritte. The description of Mel's words like a song made people think of Sansa (it's been speculated Sansa's singing will help Jon remember things post rez/help him return to himself), and Ghost's strangely positive reaction to Mel may foreshadow how he reacts to Sansa as a familiar person. So, when I read that passage, it sounded to me like Sansa and Jon will be reuniting shortly after his rez, or even perhaps before his rez, so yes, I imagine that happens at the Wall.

Way back in 2013, a famous Jonsa essay predicted that Jon and Sansa would be reunited first of all the Starks, and then in 2016 that happened on the show which spurred a lot more discussion in the Jonsa fandom about Sansa being the girl in grey in the books as well.

I'll link some additional posts with various thoughts on how it might go.

Jon as the Stranger, Sansa as a silent sister. Pertinent quotes:

Then one morning she spied three women in the cowled grey robes of the silent sisters loading a corpse into their wagon. (ACOK, Arya VII) The women in grey bowed their heads. The silent sisters do not speak to the living, Catelyn remembered dully, but some say they can talk to the dead. (ACOK, Catelyn V) Grey was the color of the silent sisters, the handmaidens of the Stranger. (AFFC, Brienne VIII) When we find the Imp, we will find the Lady Sansa too. She is not dead . . . but before I am done with her, I promise you, she will be singing to the Stranger, begging for his kiss." (AFFC, Cersei IV)

@loveroflemons wrote a post in 2017 talking about Mel's prophecy and the map of the North to explain why Sansa is the Girl in Grey here. @une-nuit-pour-se-souvenir has a post explaining that Sansa is Ned's narrative heir and her path North will follow his here, and some general ideas for her TWOW story here.

@istumpysk talks about The Girl in Grey foreshadowing here. @aegor-bamfsteel tried to give us a time table here, @redteabaron has talked about the possibility that Sansa will be hunted by Ramsay for some Red Riding Hood parallels here, That and Sansa meeting Ghost while Jon is still out of it is discussed here as well. And this post talks about Jon saving Sansa from Ramsay while warged into Ghost using some king’s prize/thief quotes. I also found a Tolkien poem (Martin is a massive fan) that has Girl in Grey vibes here (not proof, just fun).

Anyway, it's a very popular Jonsa theory, for many of us, a given at this point. For a different ask i scrolled some BNF blogs and they mocked it a lot, called us delusional because they can point to the other girls as fulfilling the prophecy, but to me, that prophecy takes up too much space for it to disappear without a real payoff. It makes sense to me that Martin would use that vision to prep us for Sansa arriving in the North.

Let me know what you think after you read ADWD!

#soon i'll post links for book verse girl in grey fics anon #not meta but jonsa fics have a funny habit of predicting things to come!#jonsa #dot chat #the girl in grey

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thelustybraavosimaid · 4 months ago

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one of the craziest aspects of the line: what do you know of my heart. it's seeing jon being the one who jumps to conclusions. mel just says that the heart is important n that arya is not lost to him. but, she never says that she saw through his heart. ofc, she noticed something. however, he is the only one reveling himself lol. her use of heart is more in a general sense, she is trying to comfort his anxious heart. while he goes for something specific, establishing arya as his heart

"At evenfall, as the sun sets and we face the gathering night, you shall take your vows. From that moment, you will be a Sworn Brother of the Night's Watch. Your crimes will be washed away, your debts forgiven. So too you must wash away your former loyalties, put aside your grudges, forget old wrongs and old loves alike. Here you begin anew. (Jon VI, AGoT)

Men came to the Wall from all of the Seven Kingdoms, and old loves and loyalties were not easily forgotten, no matter how many oaths a man swore...as Jon himself had good reason to know. (Jon I, ACoK)

I think about these sometimes. A few times Jon had been tested in this way, his inability to forget those he loved, but doesn't this come to a head in the latter half of his ADwD, amidst juggling the free folk, the Night's Watch, the food crisis, etc? How his loyalty to Arya propels him to change the plan?

Regarding what you said, I like to make a comparison in this way:

"Is that the way of it, Jon Snow?" asked Mance Rayder, mildly. "Her and you?"

It was easy to lose your way beyond the Wall. Jon did not know that he could tell honor from shame anymore, or right from wrong. Father forgive me. "Yes," he said. Mance nodded. "Good. You'll go with Jarl and Styr on the morrow, then. Both of you. Far be it from me to separate two hearts that beat as one." (Jon II, ASoS)

Jon later thinks:

Two hearts that beat as one. Mance Rayder's mocking words rang bitter in his head. Jon had seldom felt so confused. (Jon III, ASoS)

While I am certainly not downplaying Ygritte's importance to Jon, I have always found it strange that he thinks of Mance's words as mocking when in (technically) the next book he wholeheartedly, without question, refers to Arya as his heart.

(George also knew what he was doing when 'dark heart' Arya was called Jon's heart, who refers to his own heart as black?!)

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jackoshadows · 1 year ago

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Listening to AFfC and it's stands out how characters like Jon, Arya and Bran are considered unimportant or thought of as dead and gone and simply underestimated in a wider sense by the houses and characters of the South.

The Lannisters think Arya, Bran and Rickon dead and most don't think Jon Snow important as he's a bastard Lord Commander. Jaime does not even mention Jon by name and only advises the Blackfish that he can go to the Wall where Ned's bastard is LC.

Tyrion seems to have forgotten about his bff at the Wall and decides to not go there because of the likes of Slynt and Thorne. The Tyrells/Greyjoys/Martells make no mention of him or the other Starks.

Brienne also never mentions Jon by name - just refers to him once as the bastard half brother at the Wall where Sansa could have gone to and then abandons that prospect as the Wall is too far off and a 'bleak and bitter place'.

Jaime thinks that Arya is dead and sends Brienne off to get Sansa. Brienne is not actively looking for Arya. Even the almost omniscient Littlefinger has no idea that Arya, Bran and Rickon are alive and can throw a spanner in the works - how would he? Or that Robb has a decree naming Jon Snow KITN and Lord of Winterfell - unless one of the signatories and witnesses blabbed about the decree I don't see how LF can know about this.

This is interesting considering Jon Snow is actively helping Stannis against Lannister allies in the North and even rallies an army to go attack the Boltons. Surprisingly, it's only Cersei who considers Jon Snow a legitimate threat - kudos to her!

Jon Snow only comes to Cersei's attention because of Stannis at the Wall, however, she does consider him a threat as Ned Stark's son. Of course, she then hatches a wild plan at Qyburn's instigation to send some men all the way to the Wall to assassinate Lord Snow. Which, considering what does end up happening to Jon, may not have been such a bad plan after all lol.

It's also a demonstration of Cersei's narrow focus on the Starks where she takes the threat of Jon Snow seriously, while shrugging off the threat from the East - Dany and her dragons.

“One last thing, Your Grace,” said Aurane Waters, in an apologetic tone. “I hesitate to take up the council’s time with trifles, but there has been some queer talk heard along the docks of late. Sailors from the east. They speak of dragons .. .” “. . . and manticores, no doubt, and bearded snarks?” Cersei chuckled. “Come back to me when you hear talk of dwarfs, my lord.” She stood, to signal that the meeting was at an end. - Cersei, AFfC.

Considering that Tyrion will be joining up with Daenerys, Cersei is in for a shock and not too pleased when next she hears of the dragons...

One of the things I am looking forward to reading in the next couple of books if it ever comes out is the reactions from the characters down south to a KITN Jon Snow, or KITN Rickon Stark and Arya Stark at the head of a wolf army and Daenerys landing on Westeros with her dragons. Bran's arc of manipulating time and events or understanding the threat of the Others is going to remain secretive/unknown for some time yet is what I am guessing.

#Jon Snow #Arya Stark #Bran Stark #Cersei Lannister #asoiaf

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countrymusiclover · 6 months ago

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41 - No Longer A Bastard

Part 42

The Lion Knight and Dragon Princess

Tags- just send an ask to be added @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea

“No! Father, please don't do this.” I screamed thrashing underneath his strong arms when he had me smashed up against the stone wall smelling of flames meaning he must have executed another Hand who he believed was against him.

My father Aerys II had his hands on either side of my head trapping me in between the wall and his body before he began tearing parts of my dress. “You’re mother can’t be trusted anymore. And I need another heir that you will give to me.”

“But I’m your daughter.” I gulped trying to push him away with my hands against the front of his chest when he began shifting his clothing downward until he was yanked backwards by smaller hands.

“Get your hands off of her, Aerys!”

I gasped seeing my mother holding him back away from me as best as she could since he was a lot stronger than she was. “Mother!”

“Jaime, get her out of here now.” She didn’t speak to me and rather called to the golden knight that had come running down the hall with her. He had been escorting her to a new room when he was paranoid that she’d hurt me so we were on the opposite sides of our own home.

Jaime moved around where she stood gently taking a hold of my forearm, beginning to lead me away from them till I attempted to get away from him. “Mother! Wait, let go of me. Urgh! We can’t just leave her - Jaime, help her.”

“Vaella, I can’t. She commanded that I look after you. I - I can’t use my sword against my sworn King.” Jaime tightened his grip, spinning me back so his hands were holding me by my shoulders.

I heard my father shout at her before she whimpered, getting dragged into the available chamber room. “Aerys!”

“But he’s - he’s going to hurt her. You’ve seen the bruising.” I felt tears falling down my face, hating to see my mother be treated by here husband that way and it made it even worse that he was also her brother who was treating her so harshly.

Jaime touched the side of my face and I leaned into his palm. “I’m so sorry, princess. But it’s her way of protecting you.” He noticed that the tears got heavier so he wrapped his arms around my waist bringing me against his embrace.

“If I ever have kids I’ll never force them to marry their own siblings. It leads to too much cruelty.” Burying my face into his armored chest holding onto him as closely as possible just heavy sobbing.

Standing on the edge of the snowy mountain near Winterfell with my horse standing off to the side while I heard the sound of the dragons flying towards our direction. My sister looked down at me while she dove down and landed her dragon a few steps away from me. She slowly slides down one of her dragon's wings walking over to me. “You coming up here to fly one of my dragons, sister?”

“Not exactly. I’m good with just having one dragon to ride for my entire life. But I do have something to talk with you about though.” I shake my head no with the wind blowing my white cloak around behind me.

Daenerys clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “What do you want to talk about, Vaella?”

“Now that we both know about who Jon Snow really is I was thinking he shouldn’t have to have a bastard title anymore. He deserves to be part of our Targaryen family and show the world that the three of us are nothing like our father Aerys II Targaryen was. Regardless of us coming from the bloodline of who we all called The Mad King.”

She smiled, completely agreeing with my idea. “I think that’s a brilliant idea, sister.”

“I’ll tell Tyrion and Missandi to gather everyone. Sansa as well. Then we also need to discuss the plan to remove Cersei from the throne.” I reminded her even though I knew she hadn’t forgotten about the original goal that had brought us together now that they army of the dead was gone forever.

Once all the lords loyal to me, Jon, Sansa and my sister Daenerys began gathering into the main throne room with me standing beside my sister in the center of the room at the front of the crowd. Jaime was standing off to the side with our four children huddled behind him seeing Jon move up to us. “Your graces, what is going on here?”

“We have thought about it and we think it’s time you let the world know who you really are. You are of our blood, the blood of the dragon.” Daenerys declared, causing everyone in the room who didn’t already know to gasp in utter shock.

Lord Glover shifting his gaze directly at me. “He’s Ned Stark’s bastard, not a Targaryen one.”

“His real father was our brother Rhaegar Targaryen and his mother was the late Lyanna Stark. The Dragon Prince and the North She-Wolf were his parents. And I know what you all are thinking about the rumors of Rhaegar kidnapping her except that wasn’t the truth. He truly loved her and our brother would have given up his crown for her.” I slowly walked to the center of the room removing my sword and aiming it at Jon Snow but everyone could see in my eyes that I had no desire to hurt him. “You named him the King in the North because you believed in him. He united us all to face the White Walkers and Night King so this shouldn’t change how you view him now. He is still the man you have sworn your sword to!”

Daenerys clasped her hands together eyeing me for a second. “My sister knows quite a lot more about your values since she received a formal education of the noble houses. But she speaks about what is the right path for us as the rulers of the Seven Kingdoms. So Jon Snow will you kneel before your Queen and let me make you a true born lord?”

“I am truly honored your graces, but I don’t want to be a Targaryen.” Jon looked between me and my younger sister.

Daenerys raised a brow not offended but curious. “I take no offense to your words. But can you inform me why you don’t wish to be named a Targaryen?”

“I wasn’t raised as one. I was raised as a Stark. The northern ways of life are all I’ve known and for that I wish to have the Stark name.” Jon responded resting one hand on the handle of his sword.

“Then kneel before me, Jon. Provide me with your sword if you please.” I slid my sword back into my holder holding out my hand for him. He placed his blade into mine, lowering himself down on a knee directly in front of me. Slowly moving his sword over one shoulder then the other before I declared his name change to everyone. “All hail his lordship Jon of House Stark, first of his name, Warden of the North and claimed King in the North. Rise, lord Stark.”

“All hail Jon of House Stark!” Daenerys declared, causing everyone in the room to join in behind her.

“All hail Jon of House Stark!”

Jon rose up from the stone floor bowing his head at me placing his sword back onto his hip. “Vaella, you trusted me with this great dagger. But it doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to the true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms who brought dragons back to our lands…it belongs to you Dany.” He brushed past me till he was standing before her, holding Aegon the Conqueror's dagger out for her to take.

“The prophecy has been passed down from King to heir for so long and none of them have figured out who it rightfully belonged to, who would figure out the Conqueror's dream of the great winter that would destroy the world of men.” Taking my sister’s hands in mine she gave me a confused look.

She shakes her head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Vaella.”

“You are the one the dagger belongs to. You were a Targaryen who walked into a fire with three stones and walked out unharmed with three baby dragons. You have fought the greatest enemy of ice , the Night King and brought them against the greatest power of fire, your dragons. A song of Ice and Fire, it is not the Prince that was Promised. Yet the Princess that was Promised and it is you Daenerys Targaryen.”

Daenerys takes the dagger from Jon’s hand turning it over and back in her hand simply staring at it for a few minutes. She locked her gaze with mine intensely holding my hand in her other one. “I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms and I will, but not alone. You shall forever be known as the Queen who found the houses of Old Valyria and for that we shall rule side by side.”

Looking over my shoulder at my husband he sent me a proud grin crossing the room. Removing my hand from my sister’s he revealed the gray crown from behind his back. “What is a Queen without a crown? My Queen, Vaella.” He gently sat the crown on my head with a grin still plastered across his face.

“We fight for our Queens!” Jon drew out his sword, raising it up in the air.

Daenerys raised the dagger up in the air. “We will remove Cersei Lannister and break the wheel of power that comes with her!”

“We will take the Iron Throne without bloodshed!” I drew my sword away from my hip and up into the air seeing everyone else who had a blade followed our actions and declared the words Queens of the Seven Kingdoms.

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thewindsofwolves · 2 years ago

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Jon Snow & Sansa Stark Book Parallels & Mentions 26/∞ : When all hope seems lost during a battle, they swallow their own fear to give courage to their companions

"Oh, gods," an old woman wailed. "We're lost, the battle's lost, she's running." Several children were crying. They can smell the fear. Sansa found herself alone on the dais. Should she stay here, or run after the queen and plead for her life?She never knew why she got to her feet, but she did. "Don't be afraid," she told them loudly. "The queen has raised the drawbridge. This is the safest place in the city. There's thick walls, the moat, the spikes . . ." "What's happened?" demanded a woman she knew slightly, the wife of a lesser lordling. "What did Osney tell her? Is the king hurt, has the city fallen?" "Tell us," someone else shouted. One woman asked about her father, another her son.Sansa raised her hands for quiet. "Joffrey's come back to the castle. He's not hurt. They're still fighting, that's all I know, they're fighting bravely. The queen will be back soon." The last was a lie, but she had to soothe them. A Clash Of Kings, Sansa VII

He could feel the despair all around him. "There must be a hundred thousand," Satin wailed. "How can we stop so many?" "The Wall will stop them," Jon heard himself say. He turned and said it again, louder. "The Wall will stop them. The Wall defends itself." Hollow words, but he needed to say them, almost as much as his brothers needed to hear them. "Mance wants to unman us with his numbers. Does he think we're stupid?" He was shouting now, his leg forgotten, and every man was listening. "The chariots, the horsemen, all those fools on foot . . . what are they going to do to us up here? Any of you ever see a mammoth climb a wall?" He laughed, and Pyp and Owen and half a dozen more laughed with him. "They're nothing, they're less use than our straw brothers here, they can't reach us, they can't hurt us, and they don't frighten us, do they?" "NO!" Grenn shouted. "They're down there and we're up here," Jon said, "and so long as we hold the gate they cannot pass. They cannot pass!" A Storm of Swords, Jon VIII

#omg i love these chapters so much #jonsa #jon x sansa #actuallyjonsa #jon snow #sansa stark #jonsa book parallels serie #my posts #gifs/edits by me #got #game of thrones #gotedits #asoiaf #asoiafedits #a song of ice and fire #jonsnowedit #sansastarkedit

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dipperscavern · 6 months ago

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dippy you’re so based… i was just rewatching the harry potter movies i’m afraid youre right abt the weasley twins i was just thinking abt them the other day aswell as sirius black who is my favourite british boytoy :/// all asoiaf fans had humble fantasy crush beginnings (mine the lord of the rings and im afraid i will never escape the lotr nerd allegations, once a freak always a freak). THE FEMININE NEED FOR A WHIMSICAL MAN!

but this begs the question,,, what other fandoms are you in… who are your other fictional crushes im so intrigued like do you have a type??? or is it just vibes

- pondering anon

hiii pondering anon!!! thank you for saying i’m based i’m truly honored (i’m sorry for this long ass reply u got me yapping)

i really wanna rewatch the movies sometime soon (saw them once years ago), but i reread the books like once a year once i’ve forgotten everything 😭😭i love everyone’s book personalities… and yeah. i’m afraid i need the weasley twins (cough fred cough), AND U CALLING SIRIUS A BOYTOY KMFAO. he was so cunth in the moocies

my humble fantasy beginnings was narnia’!! i wanna watch lotr but since hotd came out it kinda hit me like a tidal wave i fear. THE FEMININE NEED FOR A WHIMSICAL MAN!

i’m not sure if i consider myself to be in fandoms… like asoiaf was really the first time i’m like deep in the fandom yk? but i’ll share my stuff CAUSE WHY NOT!!! i like gravity falls, narnia, harry potter, percy jackson, the maze runner, the walking dead, the hunger games, greys anatomy, atla, the last of us, avatar the blue peopel, potc, criminal minds, shameless, and nobody shoot me scooby doo specifically the mystery incorporated version. FIGHT ME RHAT SHOW HAS SUCH GOOD LORD IDGAF!!!!! and in answer to my crushes question i give u, a text i sent my friend months ago:

“me with sandor clegane, jon snow, daemon targaryen, simon riley, finnick odair, steve harrington, lip gallagher, daryl dixon, rick grimes, robb stark, fred weasley, john mactavish, marcus lopez, jj maybank, alex karev, occasional mark sloan if i’m blackout drunk, peter parker, wayne mccullough, bill and charlie weasley when i’m ovulating, thomas in tmr movies & minho in the books, ellie williams, spencer reid, jake sully, jack sparrow, (unfortunately) feyd-rautha, the pope, and george washington”

and that’s just the text. i’ll remember more in a year when i’m like OMG WAIT HES SO FINE I FORGOT I HAVE A SHRINE OF HIM IN MG CLOSEt!!

#dippys asks #pondering anon #i’m not even tagging allat #but anywyas #i don’t really have a type #it’s literally just vibes #and whoever can make me laugh my pants off #sorry #i am not sorry #anyways yes my dear ponderer #i’m pretty sure it’s just vibes #unless im stupid and this is like the unreliable narrator trope #I HATE GHAT #I CSNF STAND THE HUNGER GAMES IN TAG ASPECT #I LOVE THE BOOKS BUT KATNISS GODDAMN #I NEVER HAVE ANY CLUE WHATS GOING IN

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waitingforwinterwinds · 2 years ago

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ASOS; Steel and Snow: 17 ARYA III (pages 227-235)

Arya experiences a betrayal on the road to (not) Riverrun.

On the morning of the third day, Arya noticed that the moss was growing mostly on the wrong side of the trees. "We're going the wrong way," she said to Gendry, as they rode past an especially mossy elm. "We're going south. See how the moss is growing on the trunk?"

Y'all need a compass. I mean, I assume a compass would work in Westeros. From what I understand, there is a 'curtain of light' or something further north of the Wall, deep in the Lands Of Always Winter, which I'm pretty sure is an aurora.

Auroras Borealis and Australis are formed when sun particles get dragged by the Earth's magnet poles into clusters and interact with stuff in the atmosphere, which suggests that there is a magnetic pole to the north of the Wall, so a compass should work. If they have the tech, which they shouuuu... how old are magnetic compasses? Google says the Chinese circa 206 BCE, so magnetic compasses are roughly 2200 years old. Cool Beans. But also if Yi Ti is Generic Fantasy Ancient Asia, then even if the Maesters didn't steal the tech, it should be around. ... who wants to tell me there's been at least one mention of a compass in the books thus far and I've just forgotten?

Telling Harwin would be almost like telling her father and there were some things that she could not bear having her father know.

Oh that came for my feels. ... now the question is: will Harwin live long enough to pass the information of Arya's survival on at a critical time?

...Harwin catching Arya up like. That's for giving us backstory, I appreciate it, but also don't add to Arya's trauma? Did you need the details about the arm chopping? I suppose it's kind of bonding, for them to swap stories, reconnect, what connection there is.

Arya was sucking the last bit of meat off a wing when one of the villagers turned to Lem Lemoncloak and said, "There were men through here not two days past, looking for the Kingslayer."

Lemon(cloak) = 🥛

She dreamt of home; not Riverrun, but Winterfell. It was not a good dream, though. She was alone outside the castle, up to her knees in mud. She could see the grey walls ahead of her, but when she tried to reach the gates every step seemed harder than the one before, and the castle faded before her, until it looked more like smoke tan granite. And there were wolves as well, gaunt grey shapes stalking through the trees all around her, their eyes shining. Whenever she looked at them, she remembered the taste of blood.

working through stuff, or visions = 🥛

I am going to count this one, just because, even knowing that it works as a vision because I know Arya's path doesn't lie towards Winterfell (yet), it also works as an expression of her anxiety and frustration over the fact that no matter how far she travels, she never seems to get closer to home or safety, like something is dragging her back every struggling step of the way. There's always something that stops her from making measurable, sustained progress. You really could interpret this one either way. It's been a bit since we've had a dream that's so on the fence about whether it's one or the other.

... The Betrayal!!!

... Run Arya, Run!!!

She knew the fight was done. "You ride like a northman, milady," Harwin said when he'd drawn them to a halt. "Your aunt was the same. Lady Lyanna. But my father was master of horse, remember." The look she gave him was full of hurt. "I thought you were my father's man." "Lord Eddard's dead, milady. I belong to the lightning lord now, and to my brothers."

Poor Arya. Jon and Sansa both had a thing going on with allies (temporary and false) which I think I commented was a theme running through those few chapters with Arya and Dany as well, but those were newly met. I did remember from the show where Arya's path was going (in the more immediate) but I didn't think it would come directly from Harwin. The betrayal.

"- He has an army all his own, and many lords bend the knee. The smallfolk only have us."

Urgh, this series! Let me be angry at some one for a change! let it be simple and uncomplicated "this person did a shitty thing and is Bad." But noooo, GRRM is all about the complexity. More layers than an onion. Nuance and motivations.

No, no, I get it. Sadly, even though he's betraying Arya's trust here, he's one of the few still fighting for the smallfolk. Goodness knows the kings and their armies have stopped giving a shit... if they gave one to begin with.

She had been better off as Squab. No one would take Squab captive, or Nan, or Weasel, or Arry the orphan boy. I was a wolf, she thought, but now I'm just a stupid little lady again.

I mean, they were all captives, that was a pretty significant thing that happened. Mmm, more identity stuffs for Arya. comparing her freedom in false identities to the fact that it's her core identity which has her in trouble in the first place, add that shake up with her core identity from a few chapters back, I'm not going to be surprised if she attempts to - ah right, House of Black and White and "becoming No-one." No surprise about it, she literally does attempt to reject her core identity at a future point.

#a storm of swords #steel and snow #a song of ice and fire #arya stark #a chapter a day reading #asos #asoiaf

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rise-my-angel · 6 months ago

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This is what I wish more modern show fans of this series would consider. That a lot of the time, grrm WANTS to challenge you on your opinions of these characters.

He makes the heroes do stupid, fucked up, or indefensible things to force you to remember these are just humans who make mistakes and you should not look at them in pure worship.

But he also makes characters who he has built you to hate, and dolls out what feels like karamtic justice only for you to realize that they do not deserve the degree of punishment they are getting. It forces you to look at your own enemy and have sympathy for the fact that under all that is someone just like us.

In the books, our first introduction to Theon is Bran and Jon watching him kick a decapitated head and Jon calls him an ass. It paints a picture of who this guy is, and you rally for him to get his just desserts and then he does, and you feel sick that this is the punishment. It forces you to realize that cruelty us never justice and you should not want it to happen to the characters, because it's not that that specific character doesn't deserve that it's that no one does.

It's why he gives otherwise whole unlikable villainous characters, really emotional and horrifying deaths. It's why Viserys III and Joffery Baratheons deaths are not painted as justified, but horrific and terrifying. You should hate them, but grrm wants you to look at yourself and ask do you hate them so much that they deserve brutal torture and untold cruelty?

Because the answer is no. He does not want you to worship your favourites as always in the right. Even when their logic is justified, they still do things that you can, will, and should protest against. Because they're still human and will make decisions that are not the best even when they think it is. For example my favourite character Jon Snow, swapping Gilly andvMances baby makes sense with his logic but I hate it a lot. It makes me look at Jon and think what is wrong with you that's not okay, even if he gave a genuinly logical reason. It didn't make him any less my favorite character, but it forces me to remember he is not without his own deserving of criticism.

And on the flip side, Cersei was the best example. Now she is also one of my favorite characters in the books, but she really digs her own grave. You can love her and still feel like you cannot wait for her own terrible plans to blow up in her face, because even if you love her, you think God does she deserve to be punished for all this shit she's caused.

Then she does her walk of atonement and it is one of the most heartbreaking sequences. It is so utterly dehumanizing for her and it's a trauma that will never leave her for the rest of her life and your basically forced to go on this walk with her. It's gut wrenching how quickly you realize you were wrong, that she does not deserve this because no one deserves this pure humiliation.

It's amazing at the end of a long arc where she is so consistently in the wrong, by the time you reach the consequences she should face, grrm forces you to look at yourself and make you ask, does your hatred of what she's done TRULY make her deserving of something this painfully cruel?

But the thing is, is that a modern trend in this fandom, show and book, is that the audience seems to have forgotten this. Good characters are always in the right and never should be critized even when they should be, and people who do bad things are nothing more then monsters who deserve no humanity shown towards them.

I hate Daenerys Targaryean, and yet each rewatch of season 1 or reread of the first book, even through that hate I still find myself enjoying watching her grow independent and confident for once in her life. I find her growth satisfying until she takes it too far, but that doesn't mean I wish she never found that confidence in the first place. I also still find her even during her arcs that have me throughly against her, funny sometimes. The way she genuinly tells Grey Worm, Ser Barristan, and Jorah in succession that they are too important and mean too much to her to risk sending against the champion of Meereen, being followed by how quickly and dryly she agrees to just let Daario Naharas to do it by basically just being like "don't fuck it up, idiot." It's funny, I hate her, but she's still funny and her budding romance with Daario IS charming. I can find humanity in this character I hate because grrm knows how to force it's audience to challenge their own views.

A Song of Ice and Fire is special because it challenges its audience as much as it does its characters on their own sense of morality, and I think that's something more modern fans of the shows in particular should remember more. Because I think we've gotten too complacent with thinking the characters in asoiaf exist on a spectrum of only good or evil, when in grrms world, no one exists there.

It's not a coincidence that Melisandre tells Davos that "If half an onion is black with rot, it's a rotten onion. A man is good, or he is evil." Comes in tandem with a scene in the books where Sam in facts, seperates the rotten half of an onion and manages to salvage the rest of it to be eaten safely.

He presents someone who thinks the world is this way, then shows you with silent action, that the notion is an inaccurate way to look at the world.

Honestly, one of my favorite things about GRRM's writing in asoiaf is how it turns the reader's bloodthirstiness against them.

Take Theon in ACOK, you are cheering in his final chapter because finally! Just desserts for that arrogant foolish bastard!

You read how the Bolton's have him captured in ASOS and say "Heh, good riddance".

And then... you read Reek chapters and with growing horror, you realize who is the person narrating. And suddenly, this need for payback, for him to face justice, doesn't feel that righteous anymore. No person should go through this.

The same goes for Cersei, her blaze of cruelty and scheming catches up to her when the sparrows imprison her. FINALLY, justice! and... you can only stare in horror and disgust at the walk of atonement scene. There is no vindication to be found here.

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agentrouka-blog · 1 year ago

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Jonsas never mention the fact that Jon dreamed of being a conqueror like King Daeron, I wonder why…

(Do you really "wonder why" or are you content making vague implications you don't care to spell out because it would make them even easier to refute?)

Why don't we spend our days talking about this?

Because GRRM mentions it twice, and both times he already dismantles it?

The first time it's a drunk 14-year-old trying to justify why he's already superqualified to join the Night's Watch, hoping to become a glamorously exciting ranger.

"Daeren Targaryen was only fourteen when he conquered Dorne," Jon said. The Young Dragon was one of his heroes." A conquest that lasted a summer," his uncle pointed out. "Your Boy King lost ten thousand men taking the place, and another fifty trying to hold it. Someone should have told him that war isn't a game." He took another sip of wine. "Also," he said, wiping his mouth, "Daeren Targaryen was only eighteen when he died. Or have you forgotten that part?" (AGOT, Jon I)

Young conquerors who get thousands killed and die young. Hello Robb. Hello..., well, let's not spoil anything else, I guess. His idealization is immediately reprimanded, for Jon the character and for the reader.

The second time, it's in direct contrast to the complex politics Jon-the-Lord-Commander is engaging in to balance out the interests of multiple dangerous parties so the maximum amount of human beings survive the winter and the Others, without killing each other - and secretly rescue his little sister on top of it.

When Jon had been a boy at Winterfell, his hero had been the Young Dragon, the boy king who had conquered Dorne at the age of fourteen. Despite his bastard birth, or perhaps because of it, Jon Snow had dreamed of leading men to glory just as King Daeron had, of growing up to be a conqueror. Now he was a man grown and the Wall was his, yet all he had were doubts. He could not even seem to conquer those. (ADWD, Jon VII)

The pivotal message here is that rulership is not that simple, not that glorious, not as banal as conquest. Jon is no longer a child hoping to compensate for his painful childhood with a power fantasy of being admired and adored for impressive feats of warfare. It's put into direct contrast with his actual challenges as a leader.

And wouldn't you know it, the moment Jon has a glamorous speech rallying men to march into war with him? That's the one moment GRRM chooses to undercut by immediately following it with his assassination. He will never ever depict war and battle as positive things, even with sympathetic characters. Even in defense, but especially related to conquest.

These things are not exactly subtle. GRRM is using Daeron and the way characters discuss him as a short-cut to criticising wars of conquest and those who glamorize them. Jon grows beyond that within the span of the books. His relationship with conquerors, especially in relation to the North, is bound to be conflicted.

So.. no, you're not seeing jonsas making a ton of posts about it. It's pretty clear-cut.

#jon snow #grrm #war #daeron i targaryen #super subtle messaging we really need to spend way more time analyzing #jonsa #not really but you know #long post

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jonquildove · 9 months ago

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starkmatriarch:

Did she know her name? The name of this woman who made Ned forget his honour, forget his wife, forget his unborn son? As she thinks, her red hair dancing in red waves in the dawning sky. It was Wylla, Ned had thought to himself. Would that she did, perhaps the thoughts would have plagued less, perhaps she would have despised Jon Snow less, perhaps she would not have felt so inadequate because of it all. Perhaps not. She would never know, for Ned would always refuse her an answer, no matter how many times she asked. He spoke of his story to his friend and king, Robert, as they walked in the courtyard. He must have loved her, to wish to protect her honour so much, he must have loved her. Jon Snow was a child borne of love, and that was what hurt her the most. Ned had not forgotten his honour for one night, one night of drink in a brothel, the night before a battle. It had not been some serving girl he would soon forget about. This was a woman he had known, had grown to love in his wife’s absence, and would protect her against all that would ask him of her. Did he love her more than he had grown to love Cat? Catelyn knew they had not loved one another at first, that theirs was a marraige of duty, but now it was a union bound by a love so strong she felt naught could break it. She did not believe she could love another man more We are tied, connected, she thought to herself, but we had not been then. As she has a frame of a silver trout on the wall, symbolising her freedom in feeling like a fish in the rivers. You tied yourself to another Ned and gave her a child…why…the Starks are honourable, why would you do that to me, even then? And bring the child home, to flaunt the betrayal in my face, to have a constant, never ceasing reminder as the years went by. Gods, but I love you Ned, but why? And why will you not tell me? He had wanted to take care of the child in his arms, as the girl he had bedded could not support the child, as she was struggling to live her life within poverty. She had then thought this again, when seeing her father Hoster on his bed in Riverrun, he asking about a girl called Tansy to see him through to the beautiful light of magic. “No,” Catelyn replied, “I do not. Though I have asked your Father many times, he will not tell me. He will speak of her to no one, not even to Jon Snow”

Sansa’s heart went out to her lady mother. It must have killed her not to know which woman made her father, her kind, loving, honourable father, forget his and Catelyn’s vows however momentarily. Father always seemed very kind and honourable, fighting in the battle in the rebellion and talking to her family. Sansa wondered who the woman was as well, curiosity burning in her mind. She continued walking with her mother, back to twirling her flower, and into deep thought. Hearing about her family was interesting, as she steadily looks through her darkening mind in her journey through the gardens. The rebellion was interesting too, she thinking Aegon -- not Aerys -- she remembered ; a young man with curly blonde hair -- rather mean to Aemond, showing him a pig as a dragon. They said this dragon was his, saying it had a tail and everything, Aegon scrunching his face in a dramatic oink. Alicent, his mother had been mad to him for playing a cruel trick on Aemond, the other saying it was just a joke. The Targaryens were always interesting to her, she touching the paper of the history book, seeing a black-haired girl looking into the wide roaring mouth of the dragon, Balerion, known as the Black Dread. She placed a comforting hand on her mother’s shoulder, and said, “I can try asking, Mother…Or, is it perhaps best left in the past…?”

#rp partner | starkmatriarch #ic #rp partner | userladycatelynstark

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esther-dot · 1 year ago

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Beauty and the Beast

Tokens of Life (give me) 9k WIP by @ihaveastorminme

Jon thought of his mother's family often. But he never heard a whisper from them. Not once. Until the day the northern wind howled through the ancestral halls of the dragon Queens, bringing with it snow and wolves’ cries at its tail. Five hundred different deities in that hall, and nobody whispered when she walked in, tall and forbidding, the skirts of her dress swirling about her like mist and snow glittering unmelted in her flame hair. She looked at him... and everything changed.

No Rose Without a Thorn 24k

Ten years ago, the Others were defeated, the Starks took back the North, the Targaryens reclaimed the Iron Throne, and the Old Gods transformed Sansa Stark into a dread and dangerous beast. Now, winter is coming, the beast remains, and the family would really like Sansa to be a full time human again.

The Beast, the Beauty, and the Bastard 3k

It is a reworking of Disney's Beauty and the Beast, but with a bit of a twist. Hope you enjoy!

Certain As the Sun 22k, incomplete

Sansa is bright, beautiful, and out of place in her little town. After her father is captured in a forgotten castle, she moves to take his place with the cursed prince.

Gifset by @dcbicki and Gifset by @yenstarkofrivia

Rapunzel

From Tower to Tower 10k incomplete

Locked away in a tower for eighteen years by a witch claiming to be her Mother, long-haired Sansa seeks freedom and a chance to regain her crown as Princess of the kingdom. But the tower is high as she has no means to get down, aside from her incredibly long hair, and no guarantee of safety in the outside world she has been warned about. One night, when the witch is out, and a thief who climbs the tower seeking refuge happens upon her, she stuns herself by taking a chance and asking him to help her escape. Assuring him that she will have all charges against him dropped when he returns her to her rightful parents, she embarks on a series of first discoveries with her new bandit friend Jon.

I'll not be climbin' up, I'll only be calling good morning 13k @violetcoloredglasses

Princess Sansa, the rightful queen, has been trapped in a tower by her usurping step-mother for nigh on three years now. Between the benevolent interference of a local woods-witch, the seemingly random appearance of a dashing young man on a horse, and a magical book that Sansa uses to turn a man into a crow, she may have found a way to change her stars.

flower shaped heart 25k, incomplete @missfaber

Alayne Stone has lived her whole life in her hidden tower, forbidden by Mother to leave. But she yearns for an adventure like the ones in the songs, so when a man named Jon Snow crashes into her tower and into her life, she seizes the chance. They travel to King's Landing where the floating lanterns shine each year on her nameday. The new world is exciting and frightening, but Jon Snow is there to guide her every step. He is not nearly as terrible as Mother said men are, though the rest of the world might be. Danger, betrayals, and lies form the steps of their journey as Alayne uncovers terrible secrets. corresponding moodboard

Let Down Your Red Hair .6k

A Jonsa Rapunzel story told in verse. With her father beheaded and her brother marching against the king, the last thing Sansa expects is for her hair to never stop growing. She is soon locked away in the tallest tower of the Red Keep, withdrawn from court as the War of the Five Kings rages on. Elsewhere, rumors of her magical hair have spread to the Wildlings, who see her fiery strands as their last hope against the coming winter.

Tangled edit by @kitten1618x, Tangled edit by @queen-sans-in-the-north, Tangled edit by @sardoniyx

Tangled gifset by @dcbicki

Sleeping Beauty

La Belle au bois dormant 4k

When The North celebrates the birth of Lady Sansa, all the realm is invited to celebrate with them. Each Lady of a Great House bestows a gift upon the little lady, including Cersei Lannister, whose presence at the celebration is both unexpected and unnerving.

Once upon a Dream 1k by @azulaahai

Sansa is under a curse - fallen into a magical sleep, she, according to the prophecy, can only be awoken by a kiss from a dragon. Arya rides south to ask for help from the dragon king Aegon, but the king’s grumpy half brother Jon might prove to be an obstacle.

Visions are Seldom All They Seem 14k

Sansa Stark is sure her life is a great song. She's a beautiful princess. She's been cursed. And the only way it will be broken is to sleep for a hundred years and be awoken by true love's kiss, given by a king's son. She's more then happy to prick her finger if it means getting her happily ever after with a handsome prince all the sooner. But a hundred years is a long time. To be fair to Sansa, Jon did not realize how long it would be either.

Sleeping Beauty Gifset

East of the Sun and West of the Moon

you are my sun, my moon (and all of my stars) 133k

When the white wolf came, the Lord of Winterfell had no choice but to give him his eldest daughter. Eddard Stark had grown up on legends of wolves, on the stories of bargains made by the First Men, on the knowledge of the price that he and his family might one day be forced to pay. His father had explained the reason their house had taken a wolf as its heraldry and “Winter is Coming” as its motto, a reminder of a promise to honor, a recognition of a debt owed that would need, one day, to be paid. Ned had breathed a sigh of relief when his sister’s twentieth winter arrived and the beast had not. And he had watched the dawn sky for the first signs of the snow that would mark that his daughter, too, might also be spared, might escape the fate that had been handed down by their ancestors. But no man could be so lucky. Sansa, too, had been born with the North in her blood, had been raised on the stories of white wolves, had lived her life with the knowledge that one might come for her.

this is the map of my heart, the landscape after cruelty 22k by @dialux

“I fell,” Sansa says softly. “I flew.” [When a strange, hooded man appears out of nowhere, demanding a woman in return for keeping the Others and dead out of Westeros, Sansa goes with him. It’s the best and worst decision of her life.]

PRE CANON - WESTERN - REGENCY - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6

#jonsa #jonsa fic #fairytale au #there will be a part 2 #there are a lot of fairytale fics 😅#beauty and the beast au #rapunzel au #tangled au #sleeping beauty au #east of the sun and west of the moon au #dot fic list

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arabellasleopardcoat · 21 days ago

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You have no idea how your reblog made me cry. I had forgotten I had written this fic (It's the second I posted, and you can tell by the quality of it) and you caught me in an especially sensistive day. When I wrote it, the only thing I intended was to tackle consent issues in Westeros with a kind partner, and it was right after I watched the episode where Aemond went looking for Aegon in the brothels. The way my skin crawled! Of course men can suffer it too, and I was glad to see it on screen, but I knew they probably wouldn't do it justice, which prompted me to write this. The butchered treatment they gave it in S2 (One could argue the opposite point too, considering it may as well be him going back to his groomer, yet they didn't tell or show that, did they?) vindicated me.

I have never read the ASOIAF books, and I stopped watching the show after the first season, because it was that triggering to me. The amount of violence towards Dany, Brienne, the casual cruelty of men like Tywin and Joffrey, it was enough to kill me a little.

The start of HOTD wasn't promising either. While it depicts sexual violence in a subtler manner, it is still there. Aemma and the horrible opening scene, Alicent and even Helaena and Aemond at some points have made me cry. I have also cried reading fics from these fandoms (Fem!Jon Snow has so fiercely disgusted me sometimes by the things they do to her I have not stopped thinking of it for days) and I found I didn't have the heart to write violence that aligned so much with what I myself suffered. For some readers it can be interesting or freeing, the same for the writers, and I am not here to judge. But it is not for me. And it will never be. I am aware that my writing might not be for everyone either, it's why you will see my fics always properly tagged, and exageratedly so. It is also why I have left other fandoms, which are centered around violence even more than this one.

I just wanted to write what I needed to read at the time. It is also why I will always hold some degree of empathy for show Aemond, despite knowing he is a war criminal. I am interested to see how his relationship with Alys will develop.

To hear that my fic has touched your heart for its themes, and that you didn't think me silly or something for not portraying him as some sort of insensitive, evil person who is absolutely unfeeling means more than you know.

Anyway, sorry for traumadumping (More like ranting) on you. Thank you for reading and for feeling so touched by my words you decided to let me know.

Death in four moves (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Queen Alicent is starting to notice your lack of pregnancy. You discuss it with your husband, and come out a stronger marriage because of it.

A/N: No one dies in this one, guys. Just quoting Tyrion. For a more detailed warning, click read more and scroll until after the dots.

Warnings: Fluff. Discussions of SA, sex, erotic novels, infertility, miscarriages, and pregnancies (None actually happen in the fic)

Catapult /ˈkatəpʌlt/

noun

a forked stick with an elastic band fastened to the two prongs, used by children for shooting small stones.

In Cyvasse, a catapult can take out a dragon.

“It’s the third month you bleed.” Queen Alicent said, with a hint of disapproval. She had perfected just the right amount of passive aggressiveness when being nosy. Your eye twitched slightly. You understood now the resentment Princess Rhaenyra held for her, with your sheets being examined by the Queen daily, your moon’s blood carefully tracked and advised on when the best moment was to conceive. “When will you make me a grandmother?”

You sipped at your tea, buying yourself a few seconds to answer. You were having tea in Haelena’s chambers, a family meeting, if you will. More like an intervention, truly. Alicent sat next to Aegon, who was in his cups already and seemed uncaring about the discussion.

“Mother, you are already a grandmother.” Aemond pointed at the hostess herself, who was on her hands and knees showing a bug to her children. The twins blabbered to her, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of the scene. Seated next to Aemond, you gently squeezed his forearm in silent thanks. His lips barely curved up into a smile. Despite his kindness in helping you out, you knew what the Queen’s response would be. It was like you were actors in a well-rehearsed play, one that had been repeating for the past six weeks.

“Yes, but those are your brother’s children. I want you two to make me a grandmother, too.” The Queen explained, smiling at him. The first month, there had been relative peace. Aemond couldn’t have knocked you up that fast, everyone reasoned. Not while still attending to his duties in the way he did. But when the second month came, and the sheets were stained red once more, Alicent had been disappointed.

Being Aemond’s wife was not an easy task. At the rate it was going, you were starting to think it would have been easier, inheritance disputes aside, to be married to Aegon. It was not that Aemond was unkind. On the contrary, he was most amenable. He cared about you, treating you with respect and even making efforts to be friendly. His mother was the problem.

You see, when the time came for Aemond to be married, Queen Alicent had handpicked you, from all the eligible ladies in the realm. The bride for his favorite children had to be perfect. She had had, I kid you not, a list. The girl Aemond married had to be smart, to be able to match him and converse about the topics that interested him, but not too educated, less she had ideas about her role in society. Devout to the Seven, but not superstitious. Brave, but not brazen. Kind, but not overly so, less she was too familiar with those beneath her. Pretty, but not one of those intimidating beauties or too aware of it. A maiden, pure and sweet, but not innocent. And so on, the list went. You weren’t too sure what she had seen in you, but she had decided you were perfect for him.

Aemond, mother’s boy as he was, had been willing to try. And he was pleasantly surprised with you. Yours wasn’t the most passionate of marriages, but you were good friends. He enjoyed your sense of humor, and you two liked the same books. Marriages were built on less. But there was the issue of consummation. Or well. There was no issue, since it hadn’t happened yet.

Neither of you dared tell Alicent that the first night, when you had come to him in your wedding gown, shaking with fear, he had done you the kindness of sitting on the bed with a goblet of wine and pulling out a deck of cards. You remembered clearly the way he had drawled, so effortlessly self-assured “I was uncertain whether you knew how to play Cyvasse, but guessed this was a safe bet.” You had nearly laughed in relief, sitting next to him and explaining you didn’t know how to play it, but cards you could do.

It had gone like that, for three long months. Aemond came to your chambers once a week, and you two played cards or just sat down talking for the whole night. He had even started teaching you Cyvasse. You didn’t mind it. He was an attractive man, your Prince, but you two had been strangers before the wedding. It was sweet, and you were a practical woman. You had all the perks of marrying a prince, and none of the hardships. If this were what your entire life would be like, you could handle it. And you would have, were it not for your mother-in-law.

A knock on the heavy wooden doors jolted you out of your thoughts. The guards announced the Grand Maester.

“Just on time.” Queen Alicent muttered, and became him over with an imperious hand. The old man stepped closer, holding a jar with some dirt? At least to you, it looked like that. The Queen took it from his hands, and opened it, grabbing your tea cup and stirring it into the drink before you could protest.

“Hare liver, pulverized with salmon. I had the maester prepare it for you, dear girl! You will have it at every meal.” Alicent beamed. Your grip on Aemond’s forearm became deathly. Aegon started laughing, before flinching suddenly. You weren’t able to tell if the one who had kicked him under the table had been your husband or your mother-in-law.

“I truly think there is no…” Aemond started to say, before getting interrupted.

“It is said to aid conception.” The Grand Maester bowed. His tone showed he wanted to be anywhere else but here, trapped between Alicent’s hopeful look, Aegon’s amusement and your indignant glare. His urge to leave was evident, not even flinching at the glare Aemond directed him for interrupting.

“Thank you, my Queen.” You answered, graciously. “Thank you as well, Grand Maester.” The man bowed again and exited the room. You eyed your now ruined tea, and Alicent. Her smile didn’t waver. You could tell she was waiting for you to drink it, and so, you smiled back and brought it to your lips.

It had to be the most foul concoction you had ever tasted. It was fishy and oily and oh so salty. You nearly spat it out, but controlled yourself, digging your nails into Aemond’s arm until he squirmed in pain. Aegon laughed again, before nearly choking in his haste to speak.

“Hey, what are you doing?!” While he laughed, you quickly took his cup and intended to drink his wine to get the taste out of your mouth. He made a grab for the wine, but so did Alicent.

“I read wine could harm conception.” She explained, passing it back to Aegon, who gave you a superior smirk.

“Mother, please. She looks like she is about to throw up.” Aemond pleaded and took the cup again. Aegon protested, but he brought the cup to your lips, urging you to drink from it. “Let her have it.”

“Aemond, I’m trying to help you both.” Alicent huffed. You quickly drank, less she tried grabbing the cup again. “We should do all that the books said. I have been reading on the topic, and I assure you…”

“I read…” Aegon interrupted loudly, giving you a wink. You knew he was about to do something disruptive, and that he would hold it over both yours and Aemond’s head for letting you escape. “Female pleasure is of the utmost importance for the woman to fall pregnant. So tell me, brother. Have you been pleasuring our dear…”

“Aegon!” Alicent yelled, slamming a hand over his mouth. “How can you say such things, with your children in the room? By the Seven, what will your brother’s wife think? That we are a family of…”

Aemond grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the room.

“You have to tell her.” You said, as soon as you were outside. He was gently pulling you along towards the gardens. “I’m not drinking anymore of that stuff. And careful, or else I will ask her to give you some too.” It had been the last straw. Your sheets being checked, you could take. Her not so subtle nudges towards laying with your husband on certain days, you could too. But being prohibited wine, and forced to take the concoction with every meal, was not something you were willing to do. Not when it was not an issue of fertility, but of the lack of… Intimate relations between you two.

“I don’t want to disappoint her.” It was said quietly, but it broke your heart. You took his hand and squeezed. One of the things you disliked about your new life was the amount of pressure Aemond was under. He had quickly become your best friend, and you liked to think you were his too. It hurt you, to see how much he pushed himself and how the nerves and worries ate him away. You knew perhaps he didn’t return your feelings, which had been steadily growing since the chaste kiss you had shared in the Sept, and all the sleepless nights spent playing games and talking, but you loved him. And it always hurt, when those you loved were in pain.

“I doubt you will. She loves you. Just because you would rather not be a father yet…” You smiled at him, trying to sound sure of yourself. In truth, you knew the Queen would be disappointed. She so wanted Aemond to be a father. He was her favorite. A baby from him would be a dream come true.

“I do want to be a father.” It was said very quietly, almost a confession. You turned towards him, unable to believe your ears. Aemond was pointedly looking towards a bush of roses, not making eye contact. His posture, normally so perfect, was a bit slouched, as if trying to curl into himself. Ashamed. He was no fool, to not be aware of your feelings, so that meant…

“Oh.” You blinked. It felt like something shattered inside you. It was not children he disliked, but you. A few tears sprang to your eyes, but you blinked them back, determined. You wanted him to be happy, even if not with you. Lowering your eyes, so he didn’t see your heartbroken expression, you answered.“Oh. Well. I’m still a maiden. We could ask the High Septon for an annulment.”

Aemond turned to look at you, bewildered. Then, a scowl took over his face, purple eye narrowing in anger.

“Annulment? Why would I want that? Is that what you want, an annulment?” His voice was starting to raise, slightly. You shushed him, frantically. But he kept going, stepping closer, hands grasping roughly at your shoulders. Aemond forced you to look him in the eyes. “You dislike me that much?”

“No. No. But if you are not attracted to me…” A few tears fell down your cheeks. You hated it. You didn’t want him to think you were manipulating him. It was distasteful, your mother had always said. Crying for a man to stay, it was not behavior befitting of you. “A lady should never beg for any man to stay. Not even a Prince.” She had always said, and you tried to live by it. But she had clearly never met Aemond.

Aemond’s lips pursed in the way they did when he was thinking about something deeply. Was he actually considering your offer? The thought made more tears spring to your eyes. He looked torn. So, this was it, you were going back home. Annulment and ruin. No one would believe you a maiden with Alicent’s efforts, with how often Aemond visited your rooms. Who in their right mind would think two young newlyweds were spending their nights playing cards and board games? It stung, to think you had had one job, and you had failed. Bed your husband. Produce children. Any child, not even a boy. It was meant to be easy. You were a failure.

Before your thoughts could spiral even further, towards becoming a Septa and watching the man you loved marry another, Aemond surprised you. With a shaking hand, he brushed your tears away.

“It’s not that, either. I like you. I might even love you.” Aemond’s eye doesn’t meet yours, and it’s only that what halts your heart from roaring in happiness. You frown, rubbing at your temples. A headache is starting. Why must everything be so difficult? He is saying the words you have longed to hear for weeks, yet… Something is off.

“You can say that you don’t like me. It’s alright.” Perhaps it is dishonesty. Perhaps he is only saying it, so you don’t feel bad. Aemond is considerate like that, never wanting to upset your feelings.

Aemond glares, giving you a stern look, as if daring you to try to explain his own feelings to himself. You shrink slightly.

“No. I like you, truly. It’s just that….” He trails off, and you want to scream out in frustration. Your temper is starting to rise, too.

“What? If you are so attracted to me, you should find it easy to bed me.” You spit out, almost daring him to contradict you.

“Nothing is that simple.” Aemond says, rolling his eye. You feel the urge to shake him, but you don’t. You are a Princess now. A Princess would not shake her Prince husband, no matter how foolish he acts. You breathe in, then out. Your response comes out, tersely.

“Love is a simple thing. It’s us who insist on complicating everything.”

“It is not my love for you, what makes me hesitate. First times can be…” And at that, you almost laugh in relief. So, that is what makes him hesitate? Fear of hurting you?

“Painful? I know, but I trust you.” You grab his hands in yours and look up at him, trying to showcase your sincerity. Your eyes are wide and earnest. But Aemond pulls out of your grasp, frustrated.

“'Tis I, who doesn’t trust you.”

You recoil, immediately pulling back. Your mother had always said you were a kind girl if a bit self-centered. And it was showing. You had never thought yourself the source of his worries, or had you ever thought he could think you're capable of hurting him.

“Aemond…” It comes out in a broken little sob. You knew people said things in fits of anger they didn’t mean, but you could tell he meant this. He didn’t trust you with his body.

Aemond tangles his hands in his hair, messing it up.

“Not like that. Just… You come to me pure, but I’m not. I have laid with a woman before.” It only makes you more confused. You are trying not to make assumptions, but it is a strange thing to say. It’s expected, especially for a man of his station. You wouldn’t have dared demand purity from him, in the way men demanded it from their wives. It was natural, even. Your positions in life were different. No one, not even the Queen herself, chided a man for his lack of chastity.

“Alright. I don’t mind it.” You answer, tentatively. You really hope, this time, you get it right. But the silence that follows is defeating.

Aemond’s hands ball into fists by his side. He loosens them, before balling them again. He is trying to hide their trembling from you, you realize. A pit forms in your stomach, knowing that whatever he is about to tell you, it’s bad. Something so terrible it might be better to not even speak it aloud. You have seen this man get into fights with his nephews, spitting out the worst slurs. You have seen him defeated by Ser Criston, beaten up, bruised badly. You have seen him hurt by his father's lack of care, cast aside in favor of others. But never once, never once, shaking in the way he is now. It terrifies you.

You don’t dare touch him, or comfort him in any way, when he is trying to calm down so hard. His breath is shallow, posture hunched, as if trying to fight the instinct to flight.

“It was not a good experience. I… I fear it would be like that, between us, and taint our marriage.” Aemond says, very quietly. His eye looks watery, his mouth set into a grim line. As if about to cry. You can tell, that whatever happened, it was much worse than what he says.

“Oh.” It’s all you can say. It had not crossed your mind, that it wasn’t you what repelled him, but the act itself. You long to hug him, but can tell touch is not what he wants, right now. You remember then, all the times he evaded touches from others, so skillfully. The ducking of an arm when Aegon tries to hug him, turning it into play fighting and roughhousing. How he never initiates affection with the Queen or Haelena. How he has never touched you, apart from a pat on the arm or holding your hand. Or how his palms get so sweaty when he has to do it. How he has not kissed you since your wedding. Perhaps, even the fact that he is always dressed in clothes that cover him completely.

Never having thought about it before, his quirks start to make sense in a way you don’t want them to. It hurts, to think of him being hurt in such a way. It is not something you had thought could happen to a man, but it makes too much sense to ignore. Whatever cloud appears in your eyes, it’s too much for Aemond to handle.

“Oh.” He mocks you, chucking your chin. It’s a gesture meant to put your mind at ease, show you that this is not an unsavable obstacle. You are thankful to him for it, even if it comes at the cost of being the butt of the joke that’s not even funny, much less with the topic you are discussing. But you can pretend for him. You smile, softly.

“Do you wish to speak about it?”

“Perhaps some other day."

Dragon /ˈdraɡ(ə)n/

noun

a mythical monster resembling a giant reptile, sometimes shown as having wings. In European tradition, the dragon is typically fire-breathing and tends to symbolize chaos or evil, whereas in East Asia it is usually a beneficent symbol of fertility, associated with water and the heavens.

In Cyvasse, a dragon can remove elephants from the board.

Aemond pulls down the screen dividing the board. He gives you a smug little look, laying down on the bed only in his sleep shirt. You try hard not to stare, focusing instead on the pieces on the board.

Your catapults are gone, and only your elephants remain. He has captured your King with a Dragon. It’s an odd move. You either are not remembering right or he is cheating.

“That’s cheating! You said the dragon could only move…” You start to complain, frowning at him.

“Diagonally, which is right.” He answers very calmly, looking at you in expectation. You examine the board from all angles, noting that he is right, and he has not cheated. Unless playing with a greatly disadvantaged player is cheating because in that case, Aemond most definitely is.

You take a deep breath and lay down next to him, forgetting the board. Oh, you can feel his pride at having bested you, even without looking at him. And of course, he keeps shifting on the bed, jostling you, lest you forget what you have to do. It’s the customary price, after all. A way to encourage to actually pay attention to his instructions about how the game is played, but also a way for a young couple to start getting to know each other. Your cheeks heat up immediately, when you decide what you will say. You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly and mumble so low, it can barely be heard over the crackling fire that lights up the room.

“Fine. As a young girl, I used to steal my father’s dagger and make other children knights with it. I loved playing Queen.”

Aemond laughs, a deep, sincere laugh. His eye crinkles at the corner, a pair of tiny dimples making themselves known. You like how true laughter lights up his face, you decide. It’s cute, but not something that often happens.

“That must have been adorable, wife.” Aemond smiles at you, boyishly. He is about to tease you, you know it. Your heart melts just a little more. “I apologize for being but a lowly Prince.” You start to laugh, but the laughter dies in your throat with his next words. “Perhaps I can indulge you.”

You rush to correct the treasonous words, scared. Aemond is an ambitious man, you have known that from the start. Just as ambitious as he is dutiful, your husband. But you can’t help but wonder if in this case, ambition outweighs the duty he feels towards his family. You don’t know him enough to make a judgment yet. So very gently, with your pulse ringing loud in your ears, you speak.

“I like Aegon. No matter if he is a drunk fool, sometimes. And your father is pretty boring, but alright. And Princess Rhaenyra." You don't say anything positive about her, not when you had learned through this same technique she had demanded Aemond was punished after losing his eye. If you had a chance, you would strangle her. But only a little. Otherwise, it would be treason, and it would be setting the wrong example. Queen Alicent always told you it was best to lead with your actions, and not only your words.

Aemond smiles, pushing your shoulder lightly.

"Not like that.” He complains, but gives you a long look regardless. You know he has noticed your slip, referring to Rhaenyra as an afterthought and only after Aegon. He knows now, without you having told him, what your thoughts on succession are. He is perceptive like that. “I was thinking more along the lines of crowning you my Queen of Love and Beauty.”

“You never compete in tourneys, husband.”

“For you, I would. If you wished to be Queen, for you, I would.” And it feels like Aemond is promising something else, something more than just being the one to get a crown of pretty flowers. It scares you a little, to be the focus of such devotion. Such honeyed words, too, which you know are unusual for him. The urge to kiss him is strong, but his confession, a few days backs, still weighs heavily between you too. He has definitely noticed you are more careful with your touches now. Still playful, but giving ample time to pull away. Yet, you can’t leave him hanging either. Not when Aemond is trying so hard for you two to work.

“I would, too. You would look handsome, with a flower’s crown.” And thinking yourself so sly, you slide your hand underneath his, laughing. Aemond laughs too, and pulls you towards him, trying to get you to put your head on his chest. You do so eagerly, listening to his heartbeat. At first, it is rushed, and he remains stiff, despite being the one to initiate the embrace. But slowly, Aemond relaxes and starts carding a hand through your hair. You think it feels much like what heaven must feel like.

The motion lulls you to that state between sleep and consciousness, where your head feels fuzzy and full of cotton, and your movements are sluggish. It feels like a dream, the way the shadows dance on the wall, and how his heart pounds steadily under you. You wish you could sink into him, fuse the two of you, as the Maesters of old said soulmates were. Nestle close to his heart, curl around it with greedy little hands, protect him from the world. Your eyelids drop, despite your fight to stay awake. Aemond smiles down at you, amused, and runs his hand over the slope of your nose, tracing the contours of your face. You scrunch your face at him, about to scold him for disturbing you, when he speaks. At first, it doesn’t make sense to you. And then, you realize.

“I was thirteen. Aegon took me to a brothel. I…” It feels like being stabbed, over and over again, tiny sparks of pain in your chest. In your mind’s eye, you can see him. A slightly younger version of Daeron, perhaps with longer hair. A big, purple eye, the other side of his face freshly scarred. Tiny. Terrified. And that you know because you know his growth spurt didn’t hit until he was fifteen, courtesy of your cyvasse games. You also know he was painfully shy and quiet, the product of a childhood filled with mockery and neglect. That, too, he had shared, after a game you knew Aemond had lost deliberately, feeling you were losing more embarrassing stories than he was sharing. Still, you hadn’t minded.

It hurts to think of your awfully kind husband being taken against his will. You doubt, had you been him, you could have survived it. Being violated so… It aches so bad, tears start filling your eyes. But you do not speak, less you break the spell and Aemond clams back up.

“I… I didn't want you to think I was weak. You are one of the loveliest things I have had, in a long time.” He says, voice breaking slightly. You shift in his grip, and look him right in the eye.

“You are not weak.” You enunciate, clearly and slowly. And you hope your sincerity shines through your eyes because you do believe it. Unable to speak a word, silenced as he was by shame, you think you would have broken much earlier. That Aemond stands, whole, before you and speaks the words aloud after so much time, says leagues about his character.

“I was meant to come out of it a man. It went…wrong.” He tries explaining, but you shake your head.

“You were not in the wrong.” You make a mental note to try to strangle Aegon later. You had known he was a… Interesting character, to say it kindly. But this… This took the cake on reckless, thoughtless behavior. He was at least three years older than Aemond, yet he had not half the sense his brother posses. Perhaps, your husband is better suited to be king. After living three months with the Targaryens, you were starting to doubt their closeness to gods. You stomp down your personal grievances, knowing Aemond needs love, not rage.

“May I hug you?” You ask, softly. Aemond laughs, a little watery, and pulls you on top of him. He hides his face in your hair, sobbing softly. You fantasize of killing half the whores of Flea Bottom, Aegon, Viserys and perhaps Alicent, too. You fall asleep like that, limbs entangled with each other and forgoing your ritual of messing up the room and your appearances. Despite it, the next morning, the maids who find you are more convinced than ever before of your closeness.

Elephant /ˈɛlɪf(ə)nt/

noun

a very large plant-eating mammal with a prehensile trunk, long curved ivory tusks, and large ears, native to Africa and southern Asia. It is the largest living land animal.

In Cyvasse, each player has multiple elephants.

It takes you a few sleepless nights to try to find a solution to your problem. Despite being praised often for how learned and bright you were, you couldn’t find an answer to your questions. You see, you have always been a planner. You tackled your concerns by doing research about them and then coming up with an action plan. But there was no research to be done here. You had to work with the facts.

You knew Aemond was not willing to confess to his mother. Nor were you about to betray his trust. But she would keep pressuring, for you to fall pregnant. You could buy time, faking an illness or perhaps even a pregnancy followed with a miscarriage. Yet, you had been chosen not only as Aemond’s companion, but to bring the next generation of Targaryens to the world. And both of you wanted children. He was too proud for letting you get pregnant and pass the baby as his own. Not with the situation with his nephews.

So. You were back to square one. You had to find a way for both of you to have children, and not traumatize Aemond about it. And get Alicent off your back. Research. You could do research about how a lady ended up with a child.

You poured long hours over medicine treaties and concluded this: It was not his member that had to go inside you, but his seed. It would also be useful if you broke your maidenhead in some way, less you ended up trying to give birth still a virgin. So, in theory, Aemond didn’t need to enter you. Just collect his seed, and perhaps you could pour it inside you with a jar or something. Still, you put that thought on the back burner, as a plan b. Oftentimes, the best solution was not the most complex one, and so, you had to at least try to perform intimacy with you. But you didn’t want him to suffer, and so, you decided to approach one of your maids about it.

“Dyana.” You said, as the girls were unlacing your gown and unpinning your hair for bed. “Stay.”

It was low, what you were about to do. But you knew of none else who had gone through something similar. Dyana had been appointed as your maid after having the unwelcome attentions of Aegon on her. There was nothing that could be done, not when the King was so ill, Alicent had told you. She wouldn’t subject him to having to pass judgment on his own son, not in his state. And besides, there had been no harm done, with the girl not falling pregnant. At the time, you hadn’t questioned it. Now, it made you sick to think your brother-in-law, who was always supportive of you in front of his mother, could have hurt her in such a way.

Dyana stayed behind, brushing your hair in front of the vanity. The other maids scurried out in a flock of dresses and chatter. You met her eyes through the mirror, in low candlelight. She was the Targaryen kind of pretty, with hair so blonde it almost looked like theirs. Perhaps that had attracted Aegon.

“I understand you were forcefully subjected to Prince Aegon’s… Advances.” You said, once you were alone. Dyana was very tense, obviously reminding the last time she had been alone with a member of the royal family. You decided to spare her the anxiety over what you wanted, if any, to make this shameful act you were committing a bit less traumatizing. “I have questions about it, from woman to woman.”

The brush clattered to the floor. Dyana’s eyes turned from anxious to terrified. She was frozen, unable to bend down and pick it up. You turned in your stool, to reassure her.

“I'm not going to punish you. I don’t want to know about the act, or reprimand you or blame you.”

Dyana bent down to pick up the brush. Her shoulders remained tense.

“I only want to ask a question. And you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to… But if you do, I will reward you handsomely.” You tried putting her at ease, using a soft voice. Much like with Aemond, you stuck to not sudden moves and no touching. To show her that you were serious, you pulled a handful of gold dragons, letting them clatter on your vanity’s table, next to the bottles of expensive lotions and perfumes Aemond had bought you. “But my husband can never know. No one can ever know.”

Dyana raised her head at the sound. She looked at the gold, and stood, anxiously wringing her hands together.

“Milady… That’s a lot of gold for a question.” Dayna’s eyes were fixed on the ground.

“It’s an important question. It requires utmost secrecy.” You answered, handing her half. “For keeping this conversation private, even if you would rather not answer me.”

Dyana took the gold, quickly hiding it inside her pocket. She seemed to fear you were playing a joke on her and would take the gold away at any time. You didn’t blame her, with how badly she had been treated so far. Keeping her waiting would be even more cruel than what you had already done, and so, you asked.

“How do you trust again, after it?” It was a clumsily worded questions, asked in a rush and in a single breath. It came out more like “Howdoyoutrustagain, after… It.” Not the most dignified wording, either. You were supposed to be eloquent, smart. Yet, you were floundering as an overzealous child.

“I…” She had clearly understood, by the look on her face, but didn’t know what to say. How to approach it. Dayna stepped closer, scrutinizing your face. Searching. But for what?

“How can you lay with a man again?” You repeated, trying to sound a bit more self-assured and narrowing down your line of questioning. You knew she was currently in a relationship with a stable boy. He always picked her up on the nights you and Aemond were supposed to bed each other.

Dayna looked at you, expression doing a full one eighty. Her eyes stopped being frightened and turned sad. One of her hands went again to brush your hair, almost in comfort.

“It is not the same man. And. Um. Never in the same way, my lady. He asks. All the time. And not like…” She trailed off, concerned. You didn’t notice, too busy committing her advice to memory. “My lady, you should really speak to the Queen….”

At those words, your head jerked up. Why did she bring up Alicent? Did she really think you could ask her about intimate relationships? Unless… She thought Aemond was… Oh, by the Seven, that was even worse.

“Aemond is not mistreating me. But my cousin’s husband is. I just don’t know what to tell her, having been so lucky.” You lied, trying to sound as convincing as you could. But you knew she wasn’t believing a word out of your mouth.

“Can they mend things?” Dyana asked, and it was obvious she didn’t buy that you were asking for a friend.

“From what I gather.” You answered, tersely. Of that, you were certain. Aemond liked you enough to at least try. You would consult him first, making sure he was not uncomfortable with the idea, but you knew he felt the grains of sand on both your clocks draining, as you did. Time was something you didn’t have. But Dyana didn’t know any of that. She was asking you, even if covertly, if you thought your husband could not be a brute. It showed, in the way her eyes filled with pity.

“Tell her to ask him to be soft. And… Not that, right away.” Dyana blushed, lowering her eyes in embarrassment. You gave her a puzzled glance, confused. If not intimacy, right away, what did she mean? Kissing? “Go slow, do something else….”

“Like?” You tilted your head to the side, hoping for a clarification.

“Mouth. Fingers.” The girl looked like she was about to hide under the table from embarrassment. And truly, it was a bit strange. An unmarried maid teaching a lady about intimacy.

“Oh.” You frowned. Dayna squeezed your shoulder, with very soft hands. “Thank you.”

King /kɪŋ/

noun

the male ruler of an independent state, especially one who inherits the position by right of birth.

In Cyvasse, the goal is to kill the King.

Your research had led you to A Caution For Young Girls. A popular novel between the common folk and that had costed you great effort to acquire. The plan had included a horse, a chicken, Aegon, and a copy of the Seven Pointed Star you had had to defile. You prayed that the Seven forgave you, both for reading such dirty tales and for destroying a copy of their sacred book to hide the book you were really reading. That day, even Queen Alicent had mistaken your newfound devotion for the Seven for a lady praying for a child and had pointed to you as an example for Aegon. In truth, you had been on your knees before the effigy of the Mother begging for forgiveness, and not a child.

It had been for a better cause, you told yourself. If truly were the gods who gave the Targaryens their right to rule, it meant they were favored among the rest of the men. Surely, finding a way to procure a child to one of the most pious, gentle Princes the realm had to offer justified your actions. Surely, Aemond’s devotion made up for your sins, or at least, the seven prayers you had recited under each of their effigies did. Surely, right?

Besides, it wasn’t like you were doing something bad. Literature is meant to open the mind. That’s why yours and Aemond’s studies had been encouraged from a young age. And the novel had certainly opened your mind to new ways of being intimate. You had no clue there were so many ways one could use their mouth, fingers, and openings. And if you had felt aroused by reading it… Literature was meant to be enjoyed, too.

So, the next time you and Aemond were alone, you said there was something you needed to talk to him about. You brought out your notes, and took the Cyvasse board away from the table, placing your research there instead. Aemond’s eyebrows raised at seeing you pull out such an amount of parchment, yet he said nothing.

“You want to be a father. I want to be a mother. We are married. And you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but I have researched for two possible ways of achieving it. Watch…” You pulled out a diagram, crudely drawn. You grabbed a stick, much like the one your Septa used to teach you when you were a child, and were about to start explaining, when Aemond interrupted.

“Is that supposed to be…” Aemond had the slightest hint of a blush on his cheeks. He cleared his throat, awkwardly. “A… Um… Is that…?”

“Yes, now shut up. I’m trying to explain my plan.” You answered, not even the slightest bit ashamed. Couldn’t he see you were explaining your research? “You see, we don’t actually need to have any kind of sexual contact for me to fall pregnant. We just need to insert your seed…” It was said in a very clinical manner, but Aemond interrupted, again.

“Wife, I know how conception works.” Now he was fully blushing, and you frowned. It was not your intention to make him uncomfortable, so you decided to go straight to the point.

“Alright, so we will skip that part. Fine. We have two options. You either pleasure yourself and spill in a jar, or we build up to intimacy. I researched the way to make that the least traumatizing for you as possible, too.”

Aemond looked at you, for one long second. The silence stretched, and you worried this was going to end up with losing him in the most painful way you could imagine. Your blooming relationship, dead by your tactless hand. Aemond stared some more, his eye narrowed. Then, he burst out laughing. You felt so embarrassed you hoped the earth would open up and swallow you whole.

The both of you stayed like that. Aemond laughing so hard tears sprang from his eyes, and you, diagram still in hand, with what Aemond would later swear was the cutest pout he had ever seen.

“This has to be both the sweetest and strangest thing someone has ever done for me.” He finally said, drying his tears.

“You are not mad? Or hurt?” You asked, eyeing him a bit suspiciously, but with a smile of your own.

“Come here.” Aemond widened his stance, and you stepped closer, giving in to his unspoken request for you to stand between his parted legs. With a touch so light, it might not even be there, Aemond tilted your head down and kissed you. You felt as if the world stopped, for a minute. The kiss was clumsy, with him sitting and you standing but you could swear it was the kind of kiss the poets wrote about. You let him lead you, reminding Dyana’s advice, and you could feel the way he smiled against your mouth for it.

“I made my decision.” Aemond said, as you pulled away to take some well-needed breaths of air. Your mind felt like mush, with how dizzying the kiss had been. You had not a single clue what he was talking about.

“Huh?”

“We will try to have the children the normal way. I can learn to trust you enough for it.” And it felt like your heart was singing, with how happy you were. You smiled brightly at him. It was an honor that he was willing to trust you that much, that he was willing to try. You knew, were you him, you would have hesitated more. Aemond was a brave man, you had to give it to him.

You wanted to kiss him silly. But you had promised yourself to keep things at his pace, were he to choose this path. And so, you asked.

“Hug?”

Aemond laughed, and pulled you closer, burying his face on your chest. You hugged back, holding him.

“So, what did your research say? About building up intimacy?” Aemond shifted, looking up at you, purple eye shining with mirth. You spluttered, slapping his shoulder. He laughed again. “You know, in all seriousness… The Seven have given me a strange woman. But I wouldn’t change you for anything.”

Detailed warning: Aemond confesses to the reader that the reason they haven’t had sex yet is not a lack of desire but a bit of fear, and describes what happened to him when he was thirteen. The reader does her research and presents it to him, crudely, but he is touched by her gesture.

As a fellow SA survivor, I hope I have managed to portray the struggle to trust a partner again in a manner that is both tasteful and fluffy, with an adequate dose of humor and awkwardness. Writing Honesty raised a few thoughts on the matter of consent in Westeros. I never got to finish GOT because of the same issue. My heart ached for Aemond during the brothel scene, and I wondered about it a lot. I have yet to see it portrayed in any fanfiction. I apologize in advance if it made anyone uncomfortable.

#answering reblogs #and being a bit much about it because its too personal for me

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