#ch:. robert baratheon

[kentstoji]

I like to believe (as does a large portion of the fandom) that Robert only had that "love" for Lyanna because she was a female version of Ned. With that in mind (and considering that Jon Arryn was the most important male figure in Ned's life), how would Robert behave himself with a daughter of Jon Arryn?

So yes! This is the return of Jon Arryn's daughter on this blog. I already mentioned that Rhaegar would be obsessed with her, merely motivated by the idea of ​​completing a prophecy.

I think Robert would see her as his first love. And perhaps, his last because she has a tendency to keep him in line.

She, despite having a sense of honor, would not be afraid to expose her claws and a sharp tongue, "So, you got a woman pregnant? You're lucky I won't make you marry her."

However, she forced him to take care of Mya.

"Don't be an cretin, Robert" Her eyes flickered with clear menace. "Go visit the girl and see if her mother will need anything."

(Jon learned that the best thing he could do was let his heiress rule. Otherwise, he himself was the target of severe criticism.)

And with that, we have Rhaegar Targaryen. Heir of the Seven Kingdoms, creating expectations and being miserably frustrated when he realized that the pleasant maiden of his delusions was a rigid and calculating woman.

[stormborns]

I followed you into war - twice, without doubts, without second thoughts. But I will not follow you now. The Robert I grew up with didn’t tremble at the shadow of an unborn child.

[isabelpsaroslunnen]

[Original date: 5 July 2016]

The more I write, the more I feel that “Oh, but it’s a fantasy world! You’re not actually depicting any real cultures” is not at all useful or productive. For one, if you can’t see the connections between things like Lord of the Rings or A Song of Ice and Fire and medieval Europe, I don’t know what to say to you. They are not direct depictions, but they are very, very evidently rooted in history and culture—and the baggage that comes with them.

It’s true that the connecting fibers are much thinner for some works than others, but while most are not on quite the scale of Middle-earth or Westeros, many follow in that kind of tradition. Speaking as a writer—in my day job (such as it is), I study early modern and eighteenth century British literature, and my interest in those periods constantly pervades my fiction. I did as much historical research for the first chapter of my fantasy novel as for straightforward historical fiction, because many aspects absolutely are drawn straight from history.

At the same time, of course, it is a fantasy and a secondary world, and those are never going to be directly equivalent.

For instance, ASOIAF is obviously and unabashedly inspired by the Wars of the Roses, enacted across a continent rather than one small island, but the Starks and Lannisters are not simply fantasy versions of the Yorks and Lancasters. During the Wars of the Roses, both families were Plantagenets, branches of the royal house of England with rival claims to the throne. In ASOIAF, neither the Starks nor Lannisters have any direct claim to the Iron Throne at all—we see the Plantagenet vs Plantagenet dynamic more with the deposed Targaryens vs their Baratheon cousins who won the previous phase of the conflict.

The Baratheons’ ebullient warrior-king, Robert, is probably most comparable to Edward IV, and his beautiful, ambitious wife to Elizabeth Woodville. However, Cersei Lannister is altogether a wilder, more amoral figure than Elizabeth, and Robert marries her out of political expediency rather than Edward’s passion for the unsuitable Elizabeth. Also unlike Elizabeth, Cersei triumphs over the austere northern lord who would strip power from her and her children, where Elizabeth lost the immediate battle to Richard of Gloucester—a far more ambiguous figure than Ned Stark.

In character, Cersei is perhaps more akin to the Lucrezia Borgia of legend, if not history. She comes with an ambitious, highly intelligent father who ruthlessly uses all his children (Tywin Lannister/Alexander VI), an incestuous brother-lover locked into an order that denies him an inheritance (Jaime Lannister/Cesare Borgia), and a second, widely loathed brother (Tyrion Lannister/Juan Borgia).

The parallels aren’t exact there, either, though. Cesare’s strategic and administrative brilliance goes to Tyrion, Lucrezia’s overriding loyalty to her family at odds with (in the fictionalized versions) a burgeoning conscience goes to Jaime, and Juan’s incompetent, wild recklessness goes to Cersei.

As far as Wars of the Roses analogues go, Daenerys Targaryen’s place seems to draw nearest to Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, the future Henry VII. Daenerys and Henry are, respectively, exiled survivors of the deposed branches of the royal family (Targaryen/Lancastrian) who, with local and foreign support, return to reclaim the kingdom. Yet Daenerys is wildly dissimilar from Henry. Even her claim to the throne differs. Where Daenerys is the only surviving, legitimate child of the old king, Henry’s Lancastrian heritage came through an illegitimate and female line, and he had a prudent, restrained personality in general, more like—say, Jon Snow.

That’s ASOIAF. If you jump to Tolkien, it’s not surprising that he linked Gondor to the Byzantine Empire in its decline. Like the Byzantine Empire, Gondor is the surviving half of a once-towering empire, holding on while the other half (Arnor/Holy Roman) loses its territory and decays into little states and feuding communities. The Battle of the Pelennor Fields has striking parallels to the fall of Constantinople, and Tolkien directly referred to Minas Tirith as a take on Constantinople.

Yet again, the parallels are not 1:1, even setting aside the basic fact that it turns out completely differently. Denethor is at most a tragic inversion of Emperor Constantine, but even that seems a stretch. His sons, Boromir and Faramir, don’t plug into any particular historical figures, and the faithful Rohirrim don’t exactly map onto anyone despite their clear Germanic inspiration.

Gondor is also heavily inspired by various regions of Italy, complete with internal strife and ruling princes who have discretion about sending armies to the Pope Steward to defend Rome Minas Tirith. Tolkien insisted that the rejuvenated Gondor at the end of LOTR is not Northern European, but essentially a restored Roman Empire with its seat at Rome. He identified various areas of Italy as the real life counterparts to Gondor, most notably Venice/Pelargir and Assisi/Lossarnach.

However, Gondor is geographically far larger than Italy, large enough to extend to Greece and Turkey, and has influences from ancient Egypt as well. The Egyptian influence lies not only in Gondor’s embalming practices but their massive monuments, their religion (which also has Jewish influences), royal imagery (especially with regard to the crown), and the general trends of Gondorian culture.

None of these, of course, are perfect models of reference—though at least you could legitimately argue that the films’ casting choices for Gondorian Dúnedain weren’t actually accurate to “Tolkien’s vision,” as is often claimed. But these are probably the most recognizable models for Gondor, with strong connections to history—and even with those, the references are multi-layered and flexible.

Essentially: this particular genre of quasi-historical fantasy absolutely draws from real history, sometimes closely, sometimes less so, which makes it perfectly possible to talk about accuracy, appropriation, and so on, in the context of fantasy. At the same time, it’s complicated by the fact that references are never direct and are worked out in the context of their own stories—a complication that is silenced rather than addressed by dismissing the relevance of history.

[levithestripper]

since bobby b wanted to joust but doesn't want to have his opponents let him win, why doesn't he just make an announcement that whoever he jousts against won't get in trouble for hitting him/knocking him off his horse? he's literally the king

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Heirs

Pairing: Robb Stark x Baratheon/Lannister reader

When Ned Stark comes to King's landing, he learns that out of Cersei's children, you, the arranged bride of his eldest son, are the only legitimate heir of Robert's. This discovery challenges the Lannisters and costs Ned his life.

When Ned Stark is executed, Robb is left broken, his family torn apart... and the only person he can take his frustration out on is you, his arranged bride, and the sister of the boy who ruined his life and had his father killed.

Tags: Arranged marriage, Robb is a bad boy in this one, corruption, innocent reader, first time,

CH. 1 First Meeting - Ned Stark's eldest son and Robert Baratheon’s eldest (legitimate) daughter got off to a relatively exciting start.

Chapter tags: fluff, first meeting, Robb and reader are kids here, teasing, Cersei is nice,

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The lord of Winterfell sat stoic, alongside his lady wife at the long table, on which one side seated his people, across from the other, which seated the party from Kings Landing. Ned Stark's sons were sitting by his side. The eldest, Robb, had just turned eleven. Now, in the midst of his warrior training, the boy wasn't small by any means. Though his body was developing and he had already reached his mother in height, Robb still maintained a spark of childlike michieve in his grey eyes.

Ned had wanted Robb to have a good childhood, but circumstances had forced him to educate his son to fight and rule from a young age. He was glad Robb still had cleverness in him to retort his brothers jests, and the chivalry to protect his little sisters, but knew the playfulness would someday come to an end when Robb will need to lead his people into winter.

The Baratheons visiting from Kings Landing sat alongside the Starks, eyeing the table in front of them, some were eating away happily, like the king, while some, like his wife Cersie grimaced at the display of meat, likely not used to the lack of decorum in her sheltered palace.

Ned hid his guilty smirk at the discomfort. Cersei and her children all sat together as well, the eldest, a pretty girl of nine was helping her rowdy little brothers and sister to food, mixes of greens consisting of fruits, nuts, and vegetables, with measured and delicate movements.

Ned both loathed and excited at the idea of betrothing his son to the kings daughter. There would be peace in the realm on one hand. On the other hand, her grandfather Tywin's and your mother's ambition and the Lannisters' reputation for manipulation made him uneasy.

The girl was frail, weak even compared to Rob’s small and hyper siblings, let alone to Robb himself. Already you were attracting attention, as the boys at the table kept turning to look at you. With long hair falling on the side of your tanned face and freckles decorating blushing cheeks.

Before the feast, he was pulled Robert and Cersei aside and discussed the match.

Not enjoying the attention some of the boys and even some men were giving you, Ned gave Robb a nudge, interrupting his conversation with his brother, Jon. "Perhaps you should entertain your guest, son?"

The boy followed his fathers gaze to you, then to the men eyeing you and understanding set. Robb nodded and stood to head over to the table where you sat. He bent down and whispered something in your ear, making you jump in surprise at first, before listening in. You looked up at him, feeling a slight warmth on your ears and cheeks, and turned to ask your mother for permission to go with him. The queen nodded at your request, smiling fondly at you, momentarily eyeing Robb with suspicion.

The boy offered one of his signature, easygoing smiles, offering you his hand before leading you outside.

One of his footsteps was twice as big as yours. You had to jog rather than walk to keep up with him, lifting up your dress high enough not to trip but also low enough not to expose yourself. He didn't slow down to match your speed either, which caused your father, the king, to smirk to his old friend.

Ned and Catelyn watched their heir leave the feast with the princess, then turned to his men, who asked him questions about the following year's harvest.

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You let yourself be led out of the warm and loud comfort of the great hall and out into the chilled, windfilled night of the north. "Where are we going?"

"Anywhere," the boy leading you replied. "My father told me to entertain you."

"Oh," you let out a small breath and looked down shyly. Of course, he wasn't with you of his own free will.

"Wanna see what northerners do for fun?" He asked.

You felt a flash of nervousness go down your spine. "Is it dangerous?"

He turned around to look if you were serious, grey eyes studied you in amusement before he let out a chuckle. "No. We just climb up the walls," He nodded towards a massive stone wall of the castle of winterfell, rising up to touch the night sky.

you eyes traveled all the way up, and you mouth dried. Your fear of hights warred with your desire to impress him. In the end, your fear won. "Then, m-maybe we shouldn't."

"Oh, princess.” he drawled, tilting his head mockingly. “Are you scared?"

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. He was so unnecessarily teasing. Nevertheless, you would stand your ground, just as your mother taught you to. "You can not speak to me that way."

He stopped walking and turned to look at her. "Oh, I see. You do have guts…" He said calmly, approaching you. Deep grey eyes staring at you under messy dark brown hair. Taking a step back, you had decided you'd rather he yelled. It would have scared you less than this.

You tried your best not to cower. "I don't want to do something dangerous -" you winced at how your voice rose louder than you had intended, making you sound all the more afraid. "Sorry," you added in a small voice. "Can we do something else?"

He raised one dark brow at you as if considering your question. Finally, he spoke again. "No." He said, and he pulled you by the hand anyway.

Your eyes widened in fear, and you glanced back to the feast, to you, mother, and sister.

"Easy, princess." He said before facing you again and saying quietly, "I won't let you fall."

You didn't trust him, but it didn't feel like you had much of a choice, feeling like you were fighting an uphill battle.

The two of you climbed up the wall. It went up around five meters and was already on a hill. It was the highest you had ever been, and the effects were obvious, as you panted, your lungs trying to catch up with you. Robb had no trouble, effortlessly climbing the slope, not carefully stepping around the slippery ice like you were. At some point, he began pulling you along with his free hand, bringing them to one level. How was he holding on to the jagged, frost-covered brick without a rope? Without gloves? And able to carry both of your weights?

You felt lightheaded as you gripped onto him. At last the two of you reached the flattened top. The sounds of laughter and signing caused you to turn to the right. There were young people everywhere along the top of the wall. A few of them cheered and waved as they saw the two of you climb up.

You blinked and let herself be put down, concentrating on staying upright. You were taking labored breaths, and you turned to look at their surroundings, gasping when you saw the view. The snow-covered roofs were magnificently illuminated by the streetlights and the full moon, and misshapen clouds danced in the stars above you. You were looking in fascination when all of a sudden, a flask was thrust in front of her.

"Drink up," You turned to see Robb wipe at his chin, a clear liquid making his lips shine.

She took the bottle tentatively, gasping "What's in it?"

"Something tasty. Trust me."

"I don't think I should." You shook your head.

He rolled his eyes at that. "Live a little, princess. I already said I'll look out for you. If anything bad happens to you, the king will skin my ass-"

You gasped.

"- so you're safe."

"Why do you speak like that?" You admonished. "You are a prince!"

He gave you a condescending smirk, flashing a set of perfect white teeth. For some reason, you didn't understand. Some Northerners sharpened their canines. Robb was one of them. Had his teeth even fallen yet? You snapped out of your thoughts when he said. "Because it's fun to watch you squirm. Are you gonna have any or not?"

You eyed the container and shook your head, handing it back to him. He took anotyou couple of sips and howled at the moon, startling you again. His was followed by a series of howls from the teenagers on the rocks. They sat on a cold rock and looked over the clouds and mountains. There wasn't enough time to take in all the gorgeous scenery, from the hills to the planes to a big snowy mountain in the distance.

He draped one arm around your shoulders casually, which made you ragged, breathing even more difficult. Bringing his shaggy head close to hers, he squinted. "Do you know what you're looking at?"

"The wall," you supplied. From his close proximity, you could smell the metallic scent of the drink coming from his lips.

"Very good,” he nodded, the praise making a warmth spread in your chest. “The wall. so far away, and here we are. And all our problems. So insignificant." You felt a tug at one strand Of your hair and turned to see his hand pulling at it playfully.

You disregarded the gesture, which made your heart speed up and focused on his words instead. “What's beyond it? What's hiding?”

His look turned serious all of a sudden as he gazed on to the faraway intimidating pile of ice. Then he turned back to you, blue eyes staring in melancholy into your soul. “Nothing a princess should ever worry you thoughts with.”

She blinked up at him, and a shiver ran up your spine. You turned back and looked at the moon. It was marvelous that up close,you could clearly make out the craters and valleys. You wondered, not for the first time, how it came to be.

You were opening your mouth, about to follow up with more questions, but the climb had tired you out quicker than you had expected, and your vision blurred. You felt herself fall back, waiting to hit the ground, when your vision went completely dark.

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You woke up to a black sky filled with stars. Blinking, you realised your head was in someone's lap, and someone was gently stroking your cheek. You took a long breath, and your vision became clearer. The muffled sounds around you were clearing up as well. You realised whose lap your head was in and who was stroking your cheek. You got up with a start, making him move his hand. Grey eyes focused on you with curiosity. "I've never seen anyone pass out from speaking before. Good instinct on not drinking the ale."

Your brows furrowed. "The what? Nevermind. It's the air. It is hard to breathe up here."

You felt yourself going dizzy again. In Winterfell, you had never been this elevated before back in Kings Landing, but sitting on the walls of the castle itself… What were you thinking about again?

"Woah!" Rob caught and held you before you could fall once more, heat from his large, muscular body bringing you somewhat back to reality.

"Bring... me... down," you managed between gasps. You mustered the strength to add, "or my lungs will rupture, I will die, and my father will skin your… ass."

But it looked like the second part of your rant was unnecessary because he lifted you in his arms, said goodbye to his companions, who hooted and laughed. You caught some muttering about a "first timer" or “southerner”. They were laughing at you. The king's daughter. But you didn't have it in you to care as you struggled to stay awake.

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By the gods, this girl was fragile, Robb thought to himself while he carried the gasping, shivering little thing to the edge of the castle walls. He felt around with one hand to find his rope, always neatly tied at his belt. He'd thought to himself, could carry you all the way down and have a boring evening, or, he could excite you a bit. He chuckled to himself, knowing exactly which option he was going to choose. He lowered you to stand on your own and got his axe from his belt before tying it to his rope. He zeroed in on the tall oak in the courtyard. His target. He's practiced and hit with longer distances. He will be fine this time.

You shivered and stared as he did so.

Robb kissed the hilt of his axe, saying a quick prayer. "You may want to crouch."

You did so instantly, making a ball on the ground. Robb took aim and held the end of the rope, which wasn't tied to the axe, and sent the blade flying. It pulled and pulled on his rope until wedging itself sideways in the oak.

Robb grinned down and said, "You can get up now, princess."

You stood up slowly, your eyes widening at his shot. "How…?”

He grinned and tied the other end of the rope around himself, then offered you his hand.

You eyed his outstretched hand, then the rope, the tree, then the wall. "I think I'll just go down the steps-!" He pulled you against himself and jumped. Your lungs must have recovered because you screamed the whole way down. Robb used his weight to swing you both once around the oak before landing in the snow.

He looked down at you and saw a shudder when you glanced back at the top of the wall where you both were a minute ago.

"Gods," you gasped before turning to look up at him, your eyes reflecting the stars. "Thanks for not dropping me."

He raised a brow, implying that you did not need to say that.

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That evening, his father told him something Robb already suspected: the king and queen had arranged a match between you and him.

[feyhunter78]

John fic saving lives one day at a time!!! Can i be added to tag list :) Can’t wait for update

Of course you can!!! Also, here's that update for you <3

Chapter Eighteen - Battle is upon them, and lives will be lost on the battlefield and beyond.

CH 19

It is early, two hours past dawn, he stands beside Robb, and his father, the prisoners in shackles, lined up so that Lord Tywin can see his family as he approaches. The field is wide, the sun still low in the sky, a cool breeze drifting through. Jon and Robb are fitted with armor, breastplates bearing the Stark and Dayne sigils respectively, and he flexes and unflexes his fingers as they wait. Ghost and Grey Wind sit between them, waiting patiently.

The Lord of Casterly Rock arrives on a war horse, and despite his age he looks fearsome, the rising sun glinting off his golden armor, his sword hanging from his side, his men behind him, the crimson Lannister banners waving in the wind.

You stand behind Jon, Margaery’s hand in your own avoiding your grandfather’s searing gaze as it sweeps over those gathered, men of the North and Riverlands set even further back, weapons at the ready.

“Lord Lannister.” Robb calls, raising a hand in greeting, putting on an air of ease, as if Jon had not witnessed Robb’s nerves force him to empty his stomach behind a tree in the early hours of predawn.

“Young Lord Stark.” Lord Tywin says coolly, dismounting with a grace Jon did not think a man of his age could possess. “I have given your terms much thought.”

“They are fair terms considering what your family has done to King Stannis’, to the realm.” Robb says equality as cool, his tone even, his voice steady even as his hands trembled behind his back.

Jon saw Margaery shift forward, her free hand taking hold of Robb’s wrist, her thumb caressing the skin, and the trembling slowly came to a halt.

“My family has done nothing, Tommen is King Robert heir, as was Joffrey before him.” Lord Tywin says, his emerald eyes unflinching steel.

A snort comes from somewhere behind Jon, echoing in the quiet of the morn, and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. All the realm knew the truth, the Tyrells had ensured that.

Robb keeps his face neutral. “Lord Lannister, the truth has spread throughout the seven kingdoms, it is best if you allow the rightful heir to take the throne, we do not wish for more bloodshed.”

“You would ask that I strip my grandson of his wife, his throne, and submit my house to the mercy of Stannis Baratheon over baseless rumors.”

“They are not baseless.” Ser Jaime’s voice strained and rough from his time exposed to the elements rises above the crowd.

Jon senses more than hears your sharp intake of breath, and he wishes he could turn and comfort you, but he cannot, he cannot risk betraying any sense of weakness to Lord Tywin.

“I guess you could say Prince Rhaegar made quite the impact on me Father.” Ser Jaime jests weakly.

Jon’s eyes dart between Lord Tywin and Ser Jaime, then he glances at Tommen who shakes where he stands, the color draining from his face as he clings to his mother’s skirts.

Tywin’s lips are set in a hard line, his men behind him shifting uncomfortably. “You need not lie to convince me to yield, my son.”

Robb glances at Jon, confusion in his Tully blue eyes, then he looks back at Lord Tywin. “You accuse your son of lying about incest, of lying about cuckholding his king?”

Tywin says nothing for a moment, then, “a son cares for his father, does he not?”

“We know the rumors are true, agree to the terms here and now, or declare yourselves traitors to the throne.” Robb says firmly, tired of Tywin’s games.

Tywin draws his sword. “The only traitors to the throne are those before me.”

It is as they feared, Tywin would not accept the terms, and he would launch an attack. Jon draws his sword, nodding to his father, who grabs you and Margaery by the arms, Smalljon corralling your remaining family. All of you rush off into the crowd as Robb's men surge forward, meeting the oncoming wave of Lannisters and whitecloaks.

The Lannisters are outnumbered, not expecting the Tyrell forces hiding behind the hills, and Jon feels a sense of pity as his sword slices clean through a man’s neck, his head flying in the opposite direction. Jon turns and plunges his sword into another man’s side, right between the chinks in his armor.

Arrows whiz by his head, and when they land true, Robb laughs, calling out congratulations to Theon before his sword bites into the flesh of a whitecloak.

Jon knew the man, he has spent most of his life in King’s Landing he knows every kingsguard, and he attempts to avoid facing them head on, not wanting their familiar faces to haunt his dreams. The sun rises and with it the temperature, sweat drips in his eyes, and he blinks them clear as he ducks, narrowly avoiding a sword swipe.

“Keep sharp, brother.” Robb calls, pulling his sword from a man’s stomach as Grey Wind lunges at the next one, his powerful jaws clamping down on the man’s throat.

Ghost has been his shadow, taking out any who come within his blind spot, growling at oncoming horses, making them rear up and throw their riders. It is chaos, but he knows it will soon end, and when Dacey Mormont brings her sword to Lord Tywin’s throat, her booted foot on his chest, he knows they have won.

A plume of smoke catches his eyes, blooming up into the sky from King’s Landing, growing wider and taller. They must have done it, must have breached the city, taken it as their own. Cheers and shouts ring out, and Dacey drags Tywin from the ground, smiling savagely. “Think I’ll get my own keep for this?”

Robb chuckles and claps her on the shoulder. “You can try.”

Jon buries his hand in Ghost’s fur, leaning on him as the adrenaline drains from his body leaving him thoroughly exhausted.

“Let us rest and regroup, then we will meet with our rightful king at the gates of the city.” Robb calls, waiting until he is sure all his men have heard him before he begins to make his way back to the camp.

Jon follows, Ghost trotting at his side, tail wagging, his pristine coat tinged with blood and gore. They will both need a bath before they return to you.

Standing beside his father while King Stannis hands down the sentencing of your family, Jon is reminded of the day his uncle was sentenced to die. How you held his arm, stood in front of him and pleaded with him not to do anything foolish.

“Cersei Lannister, for your crimes against the crown and the gods themselves, you shall lose your head.” King Stannis says, his eyes not necessarily cold, but steely, unflinching, unfeeling, his hands steady as he passes down the first verdict.

Tommen cries out clinging to his mother as she glares at King Stannis, even road weary and in tattered clothes, she looks a queen, no amount of dust, dirt, or shame can hide the regal air she possesses.

“Tywin Lannister, for your crimes against the crown, you shall join your daughter’s fate.”

Jon’s eyes flicker to you, but you are looking at your uncle, your hands buried in your skirts, eyes rimmed red. He wants to stand beside you, but he must remain at his father’s side. By order of the king, the two innocent Lannister must stand alone. Perhaps it is a warning to both you, your father and any others who might try and go against the king.

“Ser Jamie.” King Stannis says. “I have had many beg me to spare your life.”

Ser Jamie for his credit raises his head, and addresses King Stannis with respect. “My life is yours, My King, do with it what you will.”

King Stannis’ lips form a hard line, then he looks off towards his wife, Ser Davos. “You killed your king, helped cuckhold another, sullied your cloak with your sister, but…I am told you saved countless lives from the Mad King, saved the entire city if not realm from his madness. Your reward shall be not watching those you love die.”

A kingsguard approaches, sword drawn, and Tommen goes pale as he is yanked from his mother. Cersei cries out angrily, hissing that all shall pay for their crimes against her. But Jon cannot help but look at you and your father, at the way you stare at Ser Jaime, at the the way your father seems to be a moment away from cracking, dissolving into dust under the weight of his grief.

The king turns, addressing the final Lannister. “Tommen Lannister.” It feels as if the entire court holds their breath, Tommen’s large emerald eyes are wide and filled with tears. King Stannis’ voice softens a fraction for a moment. “I am a just man; you shall not watch your family die.”

Then Tommen is pulled to his feet and cast towards you and your father. You take him into your arms hurriedly, holding him with a death grip, keeping his head turned away from his mother and father.

The kingsguard raises his sword and Ser Jaime is pushed to his knees.

A sob escapes you, Jon can hear it, his sense so fine-tuned to your very being it is as if the small sound is as loud as thunder.

Ser Jamie looks to you and your father. “Tyrion, y/n, I must beg your forgiveness once more, for I have to leave you both far too soon, and can no longer watch over you.”

Jon feels his father’s hand on his arm, keeping him from going to you as press your hand to your heart, fingers gripping the rich fabric of your gown, with a weak heartbroken whimper of “Uncle Jaime…” 

Then all is silent until the blade sings, cutting through the air followed by the heavy thump of Ser Jaime’s head. A devastated cry leaves your lips, piercing him, and for a moment Jon is reminded of the tale of the death of Rhaenyra Targaryen. How her half-brother’s dragon burned her alive in front of her youngest son. How her screams and his echoed throughout the Keep, how one of Rhaenyra’s ladies clawed her own eyes out in her grief.

Then goes Cersei’s head, then Tywin’s until three golden heads lay in pools of crimson.

When King Stannis turns to Tommen again, you stiffen, a strangled sob escaping you, a torrent of tears.

Jon’s stomach drops, this is not right, Tommen was to be a ward of Winterfell, stripped of his name and titles, but alive, that is what he was told, what you were told.

“Please, he is just a boy.” You say, refusing to release your grip on Tommen, your face a portrait of anguish.

“He is, so I will not stain my rule by taking his life.” King Stannis jerks his head towards the gathering of Starks and Northmen. “Lord Stark will take the boy, he shall be no more than he truly is, a bastard, but he will live.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You say, curtsying best you can with Tommen stuck to you like a sticker burr and your vision blurred with tears.

The remaining sentencing of traitors is a blur, Jon cannot focus on anything but your anguished face, the tears that slide down your cheeks, the way your hands shake as they smooth down Tommen’s hair. It is not until his uncle nudges him, that Jon realizes court has been dismissed and everyone is filing out.

He goes to you instantly, mindful of the blood, and guides you out of the Great Hall, your father holding Tommen’s hand as the boy cries silently, the two of them trailing behind.

Jon tries to speak but you shake your head, weariness clear in your every movement. He will wait to speak, wait until you have slept and begun to grieve your family.

TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo, @legolastheleafyelf, @faerie-film, @wifiatthetrainstation, @duskypinki, @tartine-de-pain, @rebeccawinters, @taylorsfemalerage, @rax-raxus, @certainwonderlandperfection, @nymeriiiia, @burkgolden, @drewsivy

[countrymusiclover]

Ch 25 - Dragons VS Dragons

Part 26

Fire OF A Stark

@dragonixfrye

Maxon Hill (Baratheon) is a new added on OC.  Since we only know a few of Robert's bastards I decided to make my own enjoy.

Months Later

Clutching my stomach I groaned laying back in the bed In our room in Casterly Rock. My white hair falling in a mess over my shoulders. We had gotten to the rock a few weeks after we had learned I was pregnant with Jaime’s child. Someone knocked on the door before they peaked their head inside. “My Lady Lannister?”

“Come in, Ser Hill.” I waved my hand motioning for the bastard to enter the room. Jaime had hired the former blacksmith boy as my personal knight for protection.

He was only sixteen so a year younger than me now in my life. My husband was always busy trying to learn the ropes of being the lord of a castle even though for his entire life almost he was sworn to only ever be a knight of the Kingsguard. Jaime would only send him up if he had news for me or to have him check on the baby. “I have news today my lady and he wishes to know what the Maester said.”

“Please Maxon, call me Lynesse. It’s just easier for the both of us.” I corrected the now appointed knight seeing that Jaime and I trusted his word. He had actually helped in making a place for Joanna to sleep in one of the towers of the rock that had an open area underneath it.

Maxon nodded his head simply making his dark brown curls fall in front of his eyes. “Of course, Lady Lynesse.”

“Well I think it will be easier if we just go see him together instead of you running back and forth through the castle. So help me up please.” I groaned sitting up as much as I could manage.

Maxon quickly moved forward trying to fight me until I sent him a stern look. "My lord won't like that you are trying to move too much…uh nevermind." He wrapped his arms around my waist while I grabbed his forearm while I grabbed my cloak I shrugged it over my shoulders following him outside our chambers.

Moving through the hallways of Casterly Rock I could hear the waves crashing against it. I wasn't wearing my crown but my white hair was visible to everyone in these walls. A few staff passed us in the hallway before I pushed open a door seeing Jaime leaning over a large table that looked to be a battlefield. Closing the door behind me he lifted his gaze up from the table. "Lynesse, you should be in bed."

"I can't be bed ridden for long, Jaime. Maxon informed me that you have news about something so I thought I'd come to you." I explained walking around the table I took his left hand in mine meeting his green gaze on me.

He squeezed my hands in his wearing a loose white tunic and red trousers. I was wearing one of his red tunics with some trousers not bothering with dresses unless we were ever asked back at Kings Landing or somewhere else important. "My sister sent a letter demanding we help her take on the Dragon queen from across the sea. Somehow she discovered the truth about you and will send the Hound on us if we don't help her."

"We have control of the Lannister army. The only reason she needs us or really you is because she doesn't have the amount of Kingsguard to aid her." Leaning my hands on the table I could figure out what was really happening to us. Cersei was still jealous and even though she knew we were together until one of us died then she would have to take other measures. "I'm going with you. If she wants to fight against a dragon then I would ride Joanna and challenge her."

Jaime raised his hand concern written all over his face about me being anywhere near such danger like a battlefield. “Lynesse it is too reckless with you being pregnant to go riding into battle on dragon back. I want you to stay here with Maxon.”

“Jaime, I will not stay here and be a bump on a log. Yes I am pregnant but that doesn’t mean I can’t ride alongside you. Plus you know you can’t stop me once I call for Joanna!” I declare turning my hands into fists at my sides holding my head up high.

He sighed heavily looking in the direction of Maxon who was standing by the door. “Saddle Joanna for my wife. And ready the army for the ships to leave tonight. We head for Kings Landing.” He left the room leaving us alone in the room staring at each other.

“I want you to promise me something, little dragon. If it gets too risky you get our baby out of here. Promise me.” He begged me resting a hand on my cheek and his golden hand on my waist.

Nodding my head slowly I put my hand over his left knowing he was completely worried about me. He still hasn’t said I love you yet and neither have I but we were terrified that something may happen to the other. “I promise, Jaime. But it won’t come to that.” The trip back to the city was even harder since I got a lot sicker yet we had the army waiting in an open field waiting for whatever army this supposed dragon queen had with her.

Resting a hand over Joanna’s nose I watched my husband ride up on the white commander horse wearing dark golden armor. He had given me a set of gray armor but my growing belly didn’t make it easy to wear. My hair was loose with some of it braided back. I didn’t know war strategy even when Robb was still alive. “You know your signal is right. Remember to stick to what I told you.”

“Wait up on the hills out of sight unless we get signs of another dragon - ugh here we go girl.” I told him grunting as I climbed on Joanna’s back leaning against her head trying to catch my breath. “Jaime, come back to me…to us.”

He nodded, kicking the white horse in the belly. “Take care of her, Joanna.”

Kicking her in her side with my legs she launched herself up into the clouds turning around on her back then hiding us behind one of the tall hills still with a good view of the army. Squinting my eyes tightly I could see some form of people on horseback charging at the army. But they seemed crazier than the one we had knowing that we were in trouble. Resting a hand to my stomach I knew Jaime could handle them until a familiar shriek came from the skies making me curse under my breath. “Seven hells. There really is another Dragon.”

Joanna made a noise seeing the same creature I do. Shifting my gaze down to the ground I had Joanna shoot up into the sky seconds before the other Targaryen girl set them on fire. Flying through the clouds I saw our army had brought the giant crossbows. Men were screaming before I lifted my head up seeing the girl riding her dragon burning a section of wagons turning everything into a bloodbath underneath us. She nearly hit Jaime until I had my dragon bolt in her direction shouting in Valyrian. “Draycrays!”

The dragon girl swung her dragon out of the way avoiding my attack. She flew up higher seeing me and Joanna before she blew fire at us. Gripping her scales my dragon does a flip in a barrel roll just as I felt pain hit me in my back with the baby. Clutching my stomach I kicked her accidentally where she set fire to some of the lion soldiers. “Joanna no…Joanna…agh!” I gripped her tugging her in the opposite direction, getting her to land a few feet away seeing most of the stuff on fire.

“Lynesse, is it really you?” Wiping my head around I recognized the voice screaming and dragon shrieking fading off.

Joanna hissed low under her breath while I couldn’t believe to see the familiar dwarf near us. “Tyrion?”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[queenofsarcazm]

Rhaenys Targaryen fix-it fic

Rhaenys Targaryan, daughter to Elia Martell and Rhaegar Targaryan, was murdered at 1 year old by Gregor Clegane, or was she? A fic in which Rhaenys grows up in the Modern world only to be brought back to Westeros before it all goes to shit. Who will she save? Who will she kill? Who will she court?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41624250/chapters/104406582

Excerpt from ch 6

Rae had just woken up from a nap and quickly saw she was not alone. “I assume you’re here because you found something at the library?”

“Yes,” the Waif replied, though stayed put where she was sat at the table, watching Rae with great interest.

“Are you going to show it to me?”

The Waif did get up then, bringing a book that resembled a fancy bible to Rae’s bedside, flipping to the right page before she gave it to Rae, who was relieved to see that it had been written in common English and not in Valyrian.

Rae found the small part about the Princess and read out loud, “Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. Daughter to Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Princess Elia Nymeros Martell, of Dorne. Dark of hair hair with white streaks and golden eyes, taking after her mother. Rhaenys was born on Dragonstone and presented to the court by her father Prince Rhaegar while her mother lay bedridden. Hmm...” Rae frowned, reading on, “whilst her grandmother Queen Rhaella Targaryen embraced her warmly, her grandfather King Aerys II Targaryen refused to touch or hold her, claiming she smelled ‘Dornish’.” - “What the fuck?” Rae looked to the Waif, but the woman just shrugged.

Rae went on, “Rhaenys had a small kitten named Balerion, after the great black dragon of Aegon I Targaryen.” -”How is that relevant?” she asked, shaking her head before continued, “Rhaenys, five years old at the time, died during the Sack of King’s Landing, and her dead body was presented to King Robert Baratheon and his court by Lord Tywin Lannister alongside her mother, Princess Elia, and her infant brother, Prince Aegon…”

Rae took a deep breath. People who killed innocent people, and especially fucking children, deserved to burn in hell, so she was glad she’d already sent someone out to murder Tywin Lannister. If it hadn’t been for the fact that his absence would cause chaos, she would have sent someone after Robert Baratheon too. Gods knows he fucking deserved it after allowing the stuff he’d allowed. She was about to close the book, feeling sick, when the Waif pointed further down the page, at a somewhat smudged footnote. “Look here.”

Rae looked, and then read that part out loud too. “The dead body of the Princess Rhaenys that was presented to Court had recently dyed black hair, which led some to believe that the child was a decoy, and that the Princess Rhaenys is still alive.”

Rae slammed the book shut.

[raisab332012]

Answer to What did the Targaryen family do after Robert Baratheon became king? by Daniel Chavez https://www.quora.com/What-did-the-Targaryen-family-do-after-Robert-Baratheon-became-king/answer/Daniel-Chavez-448?ch=18&oid=1477743651579280&share=686992bf&srid=7KVRc&target_type=answer

[a-song-of-quill-and-feather]

The Other Stark Girl - Character Posters

Jon Arryn & Robert Baratheon | Aerys Targaryen & Rhaella Targaryen

Eddard Stark | Catelyn Tully

Rhaegar Targaryen & Lyanna Stark | Elia Martell 

Taglist: @tessasocs @perfectlystiles @wokenhardies @zeleniafic @eddysocs @foxesandmagic @raith-way @fyeahnevilleslongbottomsocs @kazinejghafa @jewelswrites-ish @akabluekat @anna-phora @booty-boggins @stilynskii @bitter-post-millennial @lokitrasho {wanna be added?}

Alys Stark Taglist: @golden-limbs

The Other Stark Girl Taglist: @within-thehollowcrown

[braimedaily]

memorable jaime lannister moments (3/?):

"Did he call you a traitor? Did he plead for a reprieve?"

[kentstoji]

robert, standing with their back turned: i’ve been expecting you, rhaegar

rhaegar: how did you do that without turning around?

robert: to be perfectly honest, the first couple of people i did that to were not you...

[mskrianna]

In the rare event that Robert leaves his whores for long enough to stumble drunk into my bed, I finish him off in other ways. In the morning he doesn’t remember.

You’ve always hated him.

Hated him? I worshipped him. Every girl in the seven kingdoms dreamed of him but he was mine by oath. And when I finally saw him on our wedding day in the Sept of Baelor, lean and fierce and black-bearded, it was the happiest moment of my life… And that night he crawled on top of me stinking of wine and did what he did, what little he could do, and whispered in my ear “Lyanna”. Your sister was a corpse and I was a living girl and he loved her more than me.

[janiedean]

Also like, Robert relished in the deaths of children and I doubt Jaime trusted him enough to tell him about the wildfire.

that’s also a fair point :(

[hjghgarden]

asoiaf meme: (4/9) great houses of westeros.

They stopped believing in gods the day they saw the Windproud break up across the bay.

[escailyyy]

The real Sansa and Tyrion, additional notes:

Some practical backgrounds on the characters of my Reality show au that you guys didn't ask for but would still be cool to know if you're into character backstories Families: Starks: Owners of a Billionaire Textile business specializing in synthetic fur and other luxury fabrics, their founder was born in the North of England and their biggest factory/home base is also there. Lannisters: Old money, made their fortune in the oil business. Famous for their capitalist business practices Targaryen: very polemic superstar musician family dating back to the Industrial revolution era of music. Their hall of Fame is made up of mostly Rockstars and pop singers. Characters: Sansa: Fur empire heiress. Socialite with her own designer label. Famous for winning King's Landing Project runnaway. She won because the public either loved her intensely or hated her intensely. Nicknamed 'queen b(ch) of the North' by viewers of KL.Project Runnaway Tyrion: founder of a fortune 500 Publicity firm. Famous for handling all of Deanerys Targaryen's PR. He's the black sheep of the Lannister family who refused to go into the oil business. Jamie: Tyrion's brother B List Netflix Actor who's already tried modeling, starting a music career, writing a book (check out 'My life as Jamie Lannister' in a bookstore near you) and is basically always trying to find himself. He's also got a law degree he never uses. But yeah he's technically allowed to practice law if he wanted Brienne: Olympic swimmer from an little known island in the states. Was a finalist in 'dancing with the stars' along with famous ballroom dancer 'Goodwin Tzarcowsky', went to a elite college on a sports scholarship and ended up in the same sorority as Sansa and Margaery. Currently she works with the Starks (Catelyn) as personal trainer. Arya: Rebel heiress to the Stark empire. Kickboxing champion and women's rights advocate. Currently studying to be a public defender. Went to a private boarding school rumored to be a front for spy operatives. And is actually banned from entering Portugal, Istanbul and Bahamas, tho nobody knows why. Gendry: Totally normal guy. Struggling artist who makes art that looks like weapons but is actually art (maybe?) But probably could kill a man. Used to be a waiter in Arya's favorite restaurant until Davos Seaworth headhunted him and now he's Davos assistant. (His hiring had nothing to do with Doctor Stannis Baratheon seeing Gendry on TV and ordering his boyfriend to give Gendry a decent job, Davos is simply one of the judges for Star Chef, he doesn't believe in bureocracy) Jon: Sansa's cousin, went to the same college as Sansa, Brienne and Margaery. He is currently signed with North Models, which is a modeling Agency under the Stark umbrella. Famous for being the hot shirtless guy of Night's guard Security commercials, and occasionally playing the northern guy in flannel in a few Hallmark movies,  he's also done a lot of ads for Stark Furs and will occasionally appear in Danny's music videos. Jon is currently the face of SansaDesigns menswear clothing line. Daenerys Targaryen: Jon's girlfriend, Her family is super famous and scandalous. She's always at the top of the music charts with songs inspired by people she knows or simply roasting haters with some sick tunes. She's still friends with ex husband Action Starlet Drogo 'the Khal' Dothraki, she has an asshole brother who will never be as good as her #BeatThatViserys. And her feud with Sansa started when SansaDesigns started putting a shirtless Jon in all sort of suggestive poses to sell more of Sansa's fur cloaks. Cersei: Tyrion's sister, old time movie star, currently the mean judge in 'Casterly's Got Talent' and 'So you think you can Act'. Her fans love to hate her. Her Hollywood marriage to film director Robert Baratheon has outlasted almost every other marriage of her generation despite his affairs. And produced  3 children. Robert: Cersei's husband, movie director and casting couch king. Friends with Sansa's dad, for who knows what reason and Also Gendry's deadbeat biological father. Robb: Sansa's 1st brother, business man, family pocketbook, doesn't like to be filmed. Ladies man, in the process of divorcing wife #2 Talisa Maegyr, soon to marry wife #3 Roslin Frey, aka: the one who got away (yes, wife #1 was Jeyne Westerling, but we don't talk about her)

Margaery: Rom Com Actress and Sansa's best friend #2 after Brienne. Went to to the same sorority as those two. Her family is old money and she's the only female Heiress to Tyrell perfumes. Homegirl has been known to date co-stars just for publicity and is the queen of product placement

Ned: Sansa's father, who was booted as the head of his own company thanks to some shady business between Cersei and Tywin that the Starks can't prove yet. He now lives the relaxed life of a retired househusband in the Stark estate in Winterfell England while Robb and Caitlyn handle the company. Ned mostly spends his time playing golf with Jon Arryn and Arthur Dayne. Occasionally annoying Tywin and dropping by unannounced in the lives of his children 

Catelyn: Sansa's mother, CEO of Winterfell industries, starred in her own season of Undercover Boss and is currently being scouted by Westeros Productions to man up the revival of 'Boss Apprentice'. She used to be Ned's ornamental housewife until he abdicated his position in the company and now she's basically living her best life

Bran: Teenage influencer, recently graduated from highschool. Ages ago during a celebrity wedding he was forced to attend, he stumbled on Jamie and Cersei having a fight over who Joffrey's real father was. It had been raining, the ground was wet, Jamie and Cersei scared him and he slipped down a flight of stairs leaving him severely impaired in the legs for a year. It was an accident, Bran forgave Jamie, but Caitlyn did not.. Ever since then he decided life is too short so he posts everything he hears and sees in social media. And starts shit up just because he can. 

Bronn: Tyrion's bodyguard. he has a million side hustles on the side and the camera crew likes to spend at least 10 min of each TRS&T episode following him around in his quest to make easy money and buy his dream mansion

Stannis: Supreme Court Judge, Gendry's uncle, who is embarrassed to admit he shares blood ties with Robert. Will appear on TV every once in a while on criminal justice programs as a guest speaker. His daughter Shireen is an influencer.

Tywin: Tyrion’s father, Oil magnate and terrible parent, has a habit of appearing on the news everytime he dodges a lawsuit for bad business practices and capitalist exploitations. His lawyers are very good. Owns his own film company and is constantly trying to bribe Jamie into working for him. Tyrion unionized all his actors some years ago and now he’s not allowed near LannisFilm 

Currently known (to me) members of my TRS&T Production team: Varys Enoch: Co-Director from hell #1 ( I know I said he was a producer, sorry, that was a typo) Petyr Baelish: Co-Director from hell #2 Tycho Nestoris (that guy we never liked from the Iron Bank): Producer From hell Sandor Clegane: Filming crew director / favorite cameraman from hell Ros Harlow: head of hair and Makeup Olyvar: Makeup artist #1 Marei : Makeup artist #2 Daisy: Makeup artist #3

if you’re interested in seeing the rest of my The real Sansa and Tyrion series, just look for the #trs&t tag in my blog