#eddard x Cersei

[cj-k]

my fanchilds nedcei hehe I had to nerf Cersei so she wouldn't kill Jon

[uluthrek]

au in which robert, the starks and the lannisters play monopoly instead of going hunting and pushing each other‘s kids from towers.

tyrion implements a tax system to make things more interesting and fights cersei over the cat for a solid ten minutes.

around thirty minutes into the game, catelyn realizes that she has free will and stops paying taxes.

arya and sansa haggle over new york avenue, which ends up being bought by theon. this causes the two to completely cast aside their differences, ally and subsequently start doing everything in their power to make theon‘s life hell.

theon himself is quite severely stoned the entire time throughout.

ned enters horrendous debt pretty much immediately and, after two hours of being financially sucked dry by both cersei and his tax evader of a wife, decides to just place his figurine in jail and never leave.

jon, playing the dog, controls the railroads and makes jaime, playing the ship, go completely broke within minutes. being beaten by a bastard and officially the first to lose the game makes jaime so mad he spends the rest of the evening perched on the family‘s ancestral armchair eating flaming hot cheetos and stifling sobs.

cersei is holding onto her last two dollars and her one house in atlantic avenue like a maniac and evades taxes like it‘s an olympic sport. she claims ownership of kentucky avenue on the grounds that red is her house‘s color at least twice. after three hours, she‘s consumed enough vintage red to kill a large mammal and keeps quoting the art of war. fascinatingly enough, she never goes completely broke.

robert, just as broke and drunk as his wife but not nearly as ferocious, proposes marriage for tax advantages to bran, who is in possession of the boardwalk and lets him dangle on his proposition for two rounds before accepting and feeling like a benevolent god.

sansa sees this and immediately proposes to arya, who accepts, only for them to be sued by their mother for public indecency („you‘re siblings, jesus christ!“). arya argues that this is just a game and that one could argue that robert‘s and bran‘s marital alliance is just as if not even more inappropriate, considering that bran is seven and robert thirtyseven. sansa countersues her mother for tax evasion, who promises she‘ll drop her lawsuit if her daughters let her keep hoarding perverse amounts of wealth. „love wins!“ arya says, which causes jaime, still perched on the armchair but now eating old nan‘s home made whiskey truffles, to hysterically sob. cersei stares him down.

robb, in a rare moment of almost prophetic foresight, excuses himself one hour in and goes on a very, VERY long walk with grey wind.

tyrion, whose tax system has spectacularly backfired in his face, proposes marriage to catelyn, jon and cersei in rapid succession, who all turn him down. „i wish i was the monster you think i am. i wish i had enough poison for the whole pack of you. i would gladly give my life to watch you all swallow it.“ he screams before he leaves the table.

at that, joffrey, who has refused to participate and instead sits on the couch playing doom on his nintendo ds, starts hysterically laughing. tyrion turns on his heel and awards his nephew with the bitchslap of the century. this causes cersei to completely abandon the game and chase after him with a broom. catelyn makes sure that everyone is distracted by the lannister antics and then reaches across the table and bags cersei‘s money and properties.

with a heavy heart, myrcella trades arya and sansa one of her limited edition bayala schleich unicorns for park place.

at this point, the game is between the tycoons that are catelyn and jon, the bran-robert alliance, the arya-sansa-alliance, and ned, who is still in jail and watching ice hockey on his phone under the table. that is when catelyn hears rickon gagging and discovers that he, in the absence of tyrion, the self declared bank manager, has managed to eat all bank notes from the box.

rickon gets his stomach pumped, cersei and tyrion have both been arrested, theon is still stoned, arya, sansa and myrcella have wandered off to go play schleich horses, and jon remains at the table, alone, content, and quietly considering himself the winner.

[dr3adlady]

February 2024 Romance Drawing Challenge

Day 2: Eddard Stark and Cersei Lannistere

Twitter | Instagram | Inprnt | ko-fi

[thefreypie]

Ned touched her cheek gently.

"Has he done this before?"

[syilverwing]

"and what of my wrath, Lord Stark?" Ned and Cersei from AGOT

[sare11aa11eras]

Cersei and Ned in the Godswood

Ned touched her cheek gently. “Has he done this before?”

“Once or twice.” She shied away from his hand. “Never on the face before. Jaime would have killed him, even if it meant his own life.”

-Eddard XII, A Game of Thrones

[snake-berry]

ship drawing challenge day 2: nedsei!

posting 3 days in a row wow thats so unlike me... anyways despite my status as a nedcat warrior i also happen to love nedsei so yayyyy im so happy i got to draw them finally.

this is like au where they were somehow betrothed (hence the winterfell background and younger versions of the characters). my young ned looks so much like how i envision jon <3

[dalekofchaos]

GRRM's original outline

Other what if scenarios that I ran out of space for. Add your own if it didn't make the cut

What if Lyanna lived and became Robert's Queen?

What if Myrcella was born first and was betrothed to Robb

What if Robb and Margaery are betrothed?

What if Rhaella survived childbirth with Daenerys?

What if Joanna Lannister didn't die in childbirth?

What if Arthur took Lyanna/Jon to Dragonstone and fled with Rhaella, Viserys and Dany and regrouped with Jon Connington?

Jamie took the throne for himself after killing Aerys?

What if Elia and her children escaped to Dorne?

What if Balon died instead of his sons?

What if Jon Arryn had a son and was raised with Ned and Robert?

What if Theon did what Asha recommended and kidnapped Bran and RIckon and burned Winterfell to the ground and this leads to Theon becoming the Iron Prince and a strong contender for the Kingsmoot.

What if Rhaegar and Robert died in the Trident and Ned became King?

What if Viserys met and married Arianne Martell?

What if Domeric Bolton lived and never met Ramsay?

What if Rhaenyra won The Dance Of The Dragons

What if Arya revealed herself to Roose Bolton

What if Rhaegar married Cersei instead of Elia?

What if Ned and his brothers talked sense into Robert and he swore off his ways to be good for Lyanna and Lyanna fought in the rebellion because Aerys kills her father and brother(because Southern Ambitions)

[cj-k]

NEDCEI NATION WOKE UPPPP

[paristapita]

day 2: Ned x Cersei I'm late again, but here I leave the drawing

Organizade by: @dr3adlady

I was going to do a simple drawing, but I really liked it so I decided to draw it in my normal style. I never thought I'd draw Cersei and Ned but they look really cute together.

[gulnarsultan]

Ned Stark to Cersei: “Your children are not Baratheons, they hab golden hair instead of the dark. Tell me, my Queen, did something happened between you and your brother Jaime. Because I’ll tell Robert about it.

Modern Reader appears right behind Cersei: “Lord Eddart Stark, I also realised that your children Sansa, Robb and Bran have ginger hair and not the dark hair like it supposed to. Starks have dark hair and Tully have ginger hair. Tell us, Lord Stark, did something happened between Lady Catelyn and her brother Edmure Tully? Are Sansa, Robb and Bran bastards?

Ned Stark:……

Modern Reader: “Do you realise that what you said was idiotic and insulting? I never thought that an HONORABLE man like you could say that.

Ned Stark starting to feel uncomfortable and he explains that all Baratheon children have dark hair. Meanwhile Modern Reader explains that the children have features of both of their parents, also Reader brings up children from House Baratheon that didn’t have dark hair, the reason why no one knows about it is because the children were daughters of the family. Modern Reader explains that Cersei had first child with dark hair, who unfortunately didn’t make it.

While Modern Reader explains Ned Stark about the facts and the genetics works and all. Yandere platonic Cersei is very thankful for Modern Reader for saving her and her children.

I’m not sure whether the first child survives or not, but I think Ned Stark with Jon Arryn wouldn’t have suspected anything, because the first child has Baratheon features and other children (Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen) just resemble their mother and that’s it. Also I think Modern Reader would know the truth, but won’t say it in order to protect her family. I guess after that explanation Ned Stark would probably live and he won’t die.

What do you think about it? I’d like to hear your thoughts. Imagine Ned’s reaction and probably Jaime’s

Ned notices reader, who is the protective mother chicken for Cersei who comes upon him.

Ned : 😳

Reader : 😡

This moment is sure to live. But reader will never let anyone insult his brothers. 😅🤣😂 I would like to see the shape of Ned's face. He had never imagined that his own family would be accused of incest and treason. I think Cersei and Robert's firstborn will survive. Thanks to the information that the reader knows, the baby is saved. Moreover, we know that Cersenin had Robert's baby aborted at least once. I think the reader will not allow it. So Cersei and Robert will have two children. Jaime collapses from laughter when he hears it. He laughs so much that he can't hold back his tears. Ned's face grows old as he can't see the forensic shape. Ned is shocked by what he hears. The questions directed against his family cause him to get angry. I think he understands that he shouldn't be buzzing anymore. The Crown Prince has the full Baratheon look anyway. Most likely, Ned won't die and there won't be any wars.

[nerajaana]

ARYA STARK VALENTINE’S DAY CHALLENGE

|| Day Three: Headcanon ||

306 A.C- Prince Aegon, son of the disinherited Hand of the King Rhaegar chose to marry not his sister but his half brother Jon Waters and his lady cousin, the she wolf of Winterfell, Arya Stark who’s said to resemble her aunt Lyanna Stark to an uncanny degree leaving the Seven Kingdoms shocked beyond measure.

[izzy140105]

𝕯𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝕭𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝕸𝖊 ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𝐽𝑜𝑛 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑥 𝑜𝑐 || 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍!!

"𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒆, 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚. 𝑰𝒇 𝒊𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏'𝒕, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒊𝒏'𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕. 𝑳𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆, 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒓𝒖𝒈 𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚. 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏' 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆..."

|| 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐎𝐂 ||

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Nine noble families wage war against each other in order to gain control over the mythical land of Westeros. Meanwhile, a force is rising after millenniums and threatens the existence of living men. And a girl from a world far different from this one, gets herself stuck in all of it.

⋆⁺₊⋆𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 + 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 "𝐺𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑇ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠" 𝐨𝐫 "𝐴 𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝐼𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑒" 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐑.𝐑. 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐜 𝐱 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧: 𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕, 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒔, 𝒈𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆

₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𝑰𝒛𝒛𝒚140105

[wolfmxther]

tags.

x. visage ; a maid as red as autumn with sunset in her hair

x. musing ; give me cersei lannister and you will see how gentle a woman can be

x. aesthetics ; the terrible fire of old regret is honey on my tongue

x. threads ; i do not frighten easily

x. answered ; i want to weep

x. house tully ; family duty honor

x. house stark ; winter is coming

x. eddard stark ; not my hair. ned loves my hair

x. robb stark ; king in the north

x. sansa stark ; she will grow into a woman far more beautiful

x. bran stark ; wouldn’t it surprise her to see you ahorse

x. arya stark ; as wild and willful as herself

x. rickon stark ; the small wolf howled for his pack

x. prompts ; always open

[aelenavelaryon]

Robert Baratheon x Reader (pt.2)

Summary: in which the Queen gets her revenge on her husband

The return of dragons came to a surprise for the realm. It was unexpected yet a blessing, especially for Rhaenyra. Finally, dragons returned to the world. Robert was not on board with having them in King's Landing at first but after watching Rhaenyra be happy after the loss of their child he agreed. Robert, despite marrying her without love came to enjoy her company as the two enjoyed making children.

Rhaenyra choose to let her dragons roamed free in a place where they were all away from people, to avoid harming innocent people. Prince Daemon was born in the year 283, near the end of the year. His brother Orys came days after his first name day in 284. In the year 286 came the twins, Aemon and Aemond. Just a year later in 287 she lost a child, it was then that Dragons were reborn.

By 290, Rhaenyra's dragons had grown a lot. The year prior they disappeared and when they returned they were the size of an adult dragon. So, for the first time in centuries a Targaryen finally took to the skies on dragonback. Balerion, the dragon she rode flew her to a part of the Keep that was abandoned and where he kept dragons eggs.

Rhaenyra brought Dragon Keepers to the Keep to help with the dragons and their eggs. The eggs, which were enough to give to each one of her children and brother, were kept warm and ready in the children's room. Finally, after five years of trying for a daughter, a girl finally came. Well, more like two. Rhaena and Helaena came during the summers of 290. By then, her children all had dragons eggs. Prince Daemon had claimed Caraxes, while his brother's hatched their eggs. Orys named his Eros. Aemon named his Moonfyre and Aemond named his Meraxes. Princess Rhaena and Helaena's dragon eggs hatched the same day of their birth.

King Robert threw a feast in honor of their first name day. By then, queen Rhaenyra had given him four sons and two daughters. Princess Rhaena was said to be as wild and defiant as her mother in her youth. Rhaena had the Targaryen hair and eyes, while her twin, princess Helaena had black hair and blue eyes like his father but she was as quiet and calm as her late grandmothers, queen Rhaella and Lady Cassana Baratheon. Robert was a decent king who took the input of his queen. They had a quiet a decent marriage.

Since the day they married Robert kept to his wife's and his own chambers. He slept with no other woman that was not his wife. Some had said he changed for the better and Eddard Stark could attest to that. Rhaenyra's life was good. She had no worries. Everything was just perfect.

The news reached her a few weeks later. Robert Baratheon had slept with Cersei Lannister or so she claimed. Cersei was a girl of three and twenty. She was yet to be married as her father hadn't found her a good match yet. Rhaenyra when she heard said nothing. Robert even thought she hadn't heard but she had. She knew, thanks to her little birds that Jaime was Cersei's lover. So, her plan was to take Jaime from Cersei. It was her goal to make him loyal to her.

Her plan began the very next day. She had asked Robert for a new guard. Stating that with six children it was better for them and her to have extra security. The king agreed. She smiled and acted as if nothing was happening. When Cersei was forced to move the keep by her father's order, Rhaenyra was forced to confront her husband.

Robert entered their shared chambers. "Nyra" she looked away. Rhaenyra was two and twenty. She had given her husband six children. She never complained nor did she cause him any problems. She simply did her duty, ever the dutiful her mother used to say. "I have never asked anything of you, nor have I ever caused you trouble or any problems. I have stood by you for the last seven years. I married you despite everything. I am no saint, nor have I ever been. I brought a son into a marriage that was not yours. You loved him and took care of him as if he was your own. And in return I gave your four sons with your blood and two daughters with your blood" there was a brief silence. "Where our children not enough?" she asked. "Was I not enough?" she asked.

Rhaenyra had never been insecure. How could she? She was a Targaryen, their beauty seemed to be god like and now, with her dragon being a god seemed far more possible than before. "I love you, Robert. But I will not be the person you treat like a common whore. If Cersei gives you a bastard child I will give you one too. And if she gives you another so will I" she said. Robert was too stunned to speak. She gave him on chance to speak before she left their shared chambers, Arthur and Jaime following behind.

Rhaenyra knew Cersei's greatest love was Jaime, and she rarely even allowed him to wonder far from her. Jaime didn't mind, watching over her gave him some sort of relief as he felt guilty for killing her father years back. He also wanted to keep her safe as he could not keep Elia and her children. Jaime was also avoiding his sister, as much as she would try to find him but he would walk the other way or ignore her pleas to talk. Over the months the good relationship between the queen and king perished in the blink of an eye. King Robert returned to his drunken and whoring ways.

Cersei Lannister gave birth to a son who she named Joffrey Baratheon, a boy with black hair and green eyes, he seemed to be all his father but the eyes. A year later, in the year 292, queen Rhaenyra gave birth to a son, a boy she named Rhaegar Targaryen and a daughter who she named Rhaella. The boy had blonde white hair. His eyes were the same eyes of princess Alyssa Targaryen, wife of Baelon Targaryen. One green eye and purple. Her daughter, princess Rhaella had a her grandmother's looks. Ser Jaime Lannister was the first one to hold his two children. A little princeling he used to call him and his little baby girl. Jaime and Rhaenyra were the ones who picked the names.

Robert knew but he said nothing as the guilt of returning to his old habits returned. Prince Jacaerys came four years after his sisters, then, a year after him came Lucerys. Princess Rhaenyra had always loved those names and had always wanted to name one of her sons like them. Prince Jacaerys had dark brown hair and purple eyes, his brother Lucerys was just like his brother. Queen Rhaenyra bore thirteen children at the short age of thirty. Her last two children were girls. Daughters. Visenya and Daenerys, daughters of Ser Arthur Dayne.

Eddard Stark never married, instead he served his queen Rhaenyra his entire life. And of course he took care of their two sons. Ned had became her closest companion alongside Arthur and Jaime Lannister. She had no other allies at court but them. At least, she didn't trust anyone else but them. Cersei gave Robert three more children. Tommen, Myrcella and Joanna but they were known as bastards since they were not married.

On the queen's name day, a thirtieth name day celebration was made in her honor. Every house in the realm attended, including Dorne, Driftmark and the North. By then, Prince Jaehaerys was nearly six and ten, Daemon was five and ten, Orys three and ten, Aemon and Aemond were one and ten, Helaena and Rhaena were eight, Rhaegar and Rhaella were nearly six, Jacaerys was four, prince Lucerys three and his sisters had just turned one.

Queen Rhaenyra, despite birthing thirteen children looked far better than most, she was grateful, she also took care great of her figure, she wanted to preserve herself as much as she could. Robert knew that seven of those children where not his. Jaehaerys had been claimed as a Targaryen despite Tywin's insistence to keep him as a bastard. Rhaenyra did not wish for her son to bear the name Baratheon or Stark. Brandon had written to her often wanting to know about his son but he not once had asked for the boy to visit him nor to be claimed as a Stark. She knew Catelyn did not like the idea of Brandon's bastard sons being in their home and possible taking Robb's birthright.

During the Queen's name day celebration things are said and revenge is plotted. They say when you play the game of thrones you win or you die, there is no middle ground. Queen Rhaenyra is going to win, no matter what. The question is, will she succeed or will she fail?

[heartofmortis]

✶ Lionheart

Chapter One

Robb Stark x (Baratheon/Lannister!) Reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, robb is down bad

note: ignore the reign pilot inspo in the third scene lmfao

word count: 4.1k

tag list: @houseofamidala @madeofstaardust @justmymindandstuff (lmk if you want to be added of removed!)

masterlist

You walked with heavy steps. Your gaze flickered sideways to the Silent Sisters, who stalked around the body of Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King. The former Hand of the King. A cold shiver tensed your body as you walked. The air had felt heavy since Lord Arryn passed. Mere days ago, you and Lord Arryn had talked, as you often did. It was no life-changing conversation: you spoke of the weather, how you felt about reaching marriageable age, and what was the last book you read. But it was the last time you spoke before the Hand took ill, wracked by a horrid fever — your mother had the masters flurry around you for two days to make sure you had not been infected. All things die eventually.

Your path led to your mother and uncle — the golden, twin lions — who were also watching the Silent Sisters and Jon Arryn, watching like vultures after their prey. Jaime Lannister’s head raised as you approached, his smile at you made brighter by the gleam of his Kingsguard armour.

“How was the Small Council meeting?” Jaime asked, one hand on the pommel of his sword.

“Dull, as usual,” you admitted. You attended most meetings of the Small Council as your father’s cupbearer, even though Robert Baratheon seldom attended the meetings, and you spent more time listening into the Council’s discussions about the state of the realm than you did offering refreshments. It was your grandfather, Tywin’s suggestion to your father that you attend the meetings. You were just a girl, but you were a princess too. You could not influence what was being said, but you could learn. “They were predicting who is going to be the next Hand of the King.”

Cersei turned from the funeral preparations to look at you. “Who do you think should be Hand?”

“I don’t think my opinion matters. Father told me he is going to ask Lord Stark.”

Your mother chuckled. “A Stark this far south for that long? Northerners never fare well here.”

You caught your uncle looking at the centre of the throne room. “Eddard Stark is an honourable man. He might do a good job.”

“Did your father mention who is following him when he travels to meet with Ned Stark?”

You gave a short laugh. “All of us.”

***

The streets of King’s Landing were bustling with smallfolk. With your blonde hair braided back and a thin cloak over your sky-coloured dress, you ran like a river down the cobbled pathways. Accompanied only by two of your ladies in waiting, you made frequent quiet visits into the capital city. You saw no reason to hold yourself higher than the smallfolk: you were all the same and they had far more need for gold than you did.

You brought yourself to one of the orphanages in the city. The matron on the door graciously gave you entry. There were too many homes for children in King’s Landing — children who had lost their families to sickness, drowning, starvation, or terrible accidents. In the few official visits your family took through the city, you saw too many people left to fend for themselves. It was the least you could to try and help the children into good positions. They deserved good lives, these children were the future. (So were you.) You were a ray of light, a hope for the future. A sign that the smallfolk were not forgotten by all the lords and ladies in the land. Your heart did not crave power and a throne, despite the world you were raised in, instead you laid it with the people. Those trodden into the dirt by people like you — you liked being the exception, though you wished it could stand for more.

With your pockets of gold and sharp mind, you devoted yourself to helping people. You donated to keep the houses running, to keep children safe, and taught them to read and helped them draw, and showed them that someone cared for them. But today’s visit was filled with less joy than usual. If you and your family were to travel North to the seat of House Stark, you did not know if or when you would return home from Winterfell. (You tried to fight the thoughts of leaving people behind, you knew this journey would be good for you.) You had already had help lined up to continue your efforts in the city. It would take weeks to travel to Winterfell, you would be gone for months at the least. You would miss the children greatly — the bright-eyed skinny figures who held your hands and reminded you of your youngest siblings, Myrcella and Tommen.

The children were far from thrilled when you explained your journey to them. Worse, so many of them wanted to join you, to flee the city and take refuge in the cold north — you had no choice but to break their little hearts and tell them they could not go with you.

A brunette girl stuck out her bottom lip. “Why would you go when it is pretty and summer here?”

You scooped the girl onto your lap. “I haven’t much choice, I’m afraid. I’m supposed to marry the future Lord of Winterfell.” (It was all that encouraged you to go. You had not seen Robb Stark in years now, but he was a kind boy and you missed him.)

“But the North is scary!” one child whispered to his friends when you objected to them coming with you. “It’s all big and cold. Man-wolves live there.”

“Why can’t he move south and live here?”

“All their ghosts freeze in the snow and come back as dead ice creatures!”

Children shrieked with fright and intrigue. “Don’t leave, Princess!”

You giggled. “I have visited the North, it is not so bad. It is terribly cold, but there is wonder in it. I promise, no winter monsters will harm any of us. Winter is scary, but it does not last forever. We do not even know if it will arrive soon.”

“But the Long Night lasted a generation!” another boy cried.

“Oh, but that is an old story. Who has been telling you such tales?” You scooped shivering children into your arms, their worries fading from their faces. “None of you have anything to fear.”

***

Dawn arrived with the northern sun trying to claw its way through soft grey clouds. The royal carriage crawled towards Winterfell in such a slow fashion that caused you to grow restless. You were quite tired of these early mornings that had plagued them all for a month. Having already thumbed through the books your Uncle Tyrion had allowed you to borrow for the journey, you could tell anyone everything about Dragonglass but nothing about how to entertain your younger siblings who were even more bored than you were. The evenings were usually easier to sit through, when everyone relaxed after a day’s travel and you could finally source a moment of peace.

You had visited the northern reaches of Westeros before, but only once, when you were ten. You had travelled by yourself, with only guards and ladies-in-waiting by her side — it was the furthest you had ever travelled without your mother. That time, you had taken a boat from King’s Landing to White Harbour, for a quicker journey, and made the unfortunate discovery that you suffered from violent seasickness. Your last experience was part of the reason your family was now making their journey along the Kingsroad instead of quicker paths — your mother had insisted that her eldest daughter's comfort be a top priority — as well as your father’s love of hunting, which had the party taking frequent breaks for expeditions deep into the woods. You would not have minded the hunting trips if your younger brother, Joffrey, had not brought you a rabbit that he had killed and showed you how to skin it for supper. (You had screamed then and eaten nothing but bread and vegetables for two weeks after, even when any other kind of meat was placed in front of you.)

“We’re almost there, I promise,” Cersei Lannister said as she considered the tired expressions across her three children.

You stared out of the window at all the men on their horses. Even though you could not ride, you wanted to be out there with your father, your brother, your uncles. On horseback, you would be able to go anywhere and move at your own pace. But in the carriage, you were stuck. Your mother and two youngest siblings were never bad company as you loved them all so dearly; you almost felt guilty when you dreamed of having your own space again. But when Winterfell finally came into view, your complaints washed from you mind like a summer storm, and you knew the long journey was worth it.

***

Robb Stark stood in line with his family to greet their King and his family. With his father on his left and his twin sister on his right, Robb was the Heir of Winterfell and he needed to prove himself worthy of his place. As stoic and noble as he tried to present himself, Robb could not calm his thunderous heart. He almost trembled with anticipation. The King’s visit to Winterfell was the greatest honour, but it also came with the promise of a new chapter and the return of the spring to his winter.

He tried not to glance sideways at his twin, Alys, as he knew she would take the piss out of his hopeful demeanour in all her annoying and particular ways. And as King Robert rode through the gates with his eldest son and second child, Prince Joffrey, and their Kingsguard and carriages, nothing could dampen Robb's high spirit.

His eyes searched as the riders and carriages poured into the confines of Winterfell, almost completely distracted from the King coming forth to greet Robb’s parents, the Lord and Lady of Winterfell: Eddard and Catelyn Stark. Robb counted the seconds until the formalities would conclude. And then he saw you again. It had been more than five years since Robb had last seen you. More than five years since your fathers had decided their eldest children should marry when they reached better ages.

Dressed in pale pink silk, shining like a sunray, you followed your mother out of the carriage, which could scarcely fit through the gates of Winterfell. Soft as a spring bloom and thrice as sweet, you had always been beautiful. Robb watched as you helped your siblings down from the carriage too, holding your youngest brother under his arms so you could spin him around and make him laugh before setting him down. Your eyes reached Robb's blue, and he tried to look away before you could find him staring at you, but you were too quick. You gave him a bright smile and a small wave — it took everything for Robb to not break into a grin.

Finally, the introductions came to a close. Your fathers went off in the direction of the crypt and the maids and servants snapped back into action to tend to the royal family. As soon as he could move without appearing rude, Robb closed the distance between himself and you. You were ordering the septas and handmaidens to bring your siblings into the castle when he approached (although ordering was too strong a word for the politeness and care you showed your staff). Robb knew others would not be so kind, but this was your unshakable nature. When your siblings were taken care of, you turned to search for Robb and beamed when you found him before you.

Robb bowed. “Your Grace.”

You giggled, cheeks flushed pink from the cold. “Please, you don't need to be so formal.”

Though it had been almost six years since you had last breathed the same air, the two of you had not been lax with communication — you and Robb had written to each other almost every month in the years you had been apart. Your first meeting had left both of you hopeful for the future, even though you had only been ten and eleven, but the letters had allowed Robb to truly begin to know you. Neither of you were marrying a stranger, Robb was grateful for that at least.

Robb noticed your fingers fidgeting with the chain around your neck.

“The castle seems bigger than I remember,” you said, staring up at Winterfell with wonder in your eyes. Then you looked at Robb. “And you too, of course.”

Breaking into a short laugh, Robb asked, “Is that such a surprise?”

You shook your head. “I was taller but you were so much faster than me — I hated that.” You giggled. “I felt like I was always chasing after you.”

Robb stretched out a hand to take the bag you had strung over your shoulder, and you allowed him to take it. “You’re staying in your old room, if that’s alright?”

You smiled and nodded, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Of course. As long as you don’t challenge me to a race this time.”

You both laughed and began walking across the courtyard together. Robb grinned. “Don’t hold your breath.”

***

Your room was precisely how you remembered it.

You had last been in Winterfell a moon before your eleventh name day, your trip cut short by your mother’s insistence that her daughter should come back home. Winterfell had enchanted you since the first day you arrived. The castle felt far more homely to you than the Red Keep or Casterly Rock did. But what you truly held envy for was the Stark family. They were far more tight-knit and loyal to their blood than your family had ever been. You held such love for your siblings, sweet Myrcella, little Tommen, even Joffrey — despite his wretched ways, he was still your little brother. You knew your parents held no love for each other, you would have had to be blind or stupid to not see it. The only bonds you possessed that could be akin to the familial bonds that were so strained and lacklustre in your own family, were the friendships you had with your ladies in waiting — four girls you had known since girlhood, four girls you trusted with your life.

When Robb left you to get settled, his presence was quickly replaced by your ladies. You had been surrounded by Erielle Lannister and Alyssa Baratheon, young cousins of your parents’ families, since your siblings had been born. Then came Lana Tyrell, a grandniece of Olenna Tyrell, and Jeyne Westerling, whose family were Lannister bannermen. They busied around you now, helping to unpack your trunks. They were there to serve you, your mother had drilled that into you, but you valued your ladies far more than that.

There were still hours until the welcome feast by the time Erielle finished slipping pins into your carefully styled hair. Lana stood behind you, tying the corset threads of your gold dress securely before sweeping furs over the your shoulders.

Alyssa took your hands. “Let’s explore. It has been half of summer since we’ve last seen snow.”

You grinned. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

You felt ten years old again, chasing around the old stone castle. Last time you visited, your company was far smaller, but now every corridor in Winterfell was flooded with rushing servants and marching guards. It made the castle feel like a grey and colder mirror of the Red Keep, not the northern wonderland you remembered from being a child.

You found your way to the courtyard. Outside, under more eyes, you tense your shoulders. As far as you enjoyed being girlish and running about giggling, Gods forbid your family — or worse, the Starks — saw you acting childish. You had already let your heart guide you the way North, but the time to play was passing. You had been betrothed to Robb Stark since you were ten years old; you would be Lady of Winterfell one day. (It felt far more real now you were standing back in the castle’s walls. At home, in King’s Landing, you could almost forget your fate.) There was a time to be the girl you longed to be, and there was time to be the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms — it was an easy balance to maintain, as long as you remained focused.

Suddenly, Jeyne gave a shriek, the sound muffled by her hands covering her mouth. Your attention snapped to the girl — and where she was looking. Inside the kennels, where Winterfell’s hounds slept, were wolves. Seven darling pups of grey, brown, black and pure white.

“Those aren’t normal wolves,” Alyssa whispered. “But it must be impossible. Direwolves do not live south of the Wall.”

You walked forwards, shaking off the clutches of your friends. In the last letters you and Robb had passed before you and your family began their journey north, Robb had told you pages about the litter of direwolves the Starks had found in the woods. You had not truly believed him until now. A smile rose to your face like the morning sun. The pups were days old when Robb sent his letter describing each of his siblings’ wolves, and soon they would grow bigger than any dog.

The pups played together while Lana tugged on your sleeve and begged you not to get too close.

“I promise they won’t hurt you.”

You and your ladies turned to see Robb approaching them. The afternoon sunlight made his red curls glow. By your lead, the girls curtsied to the heir of Winterfell, and Robb bowed to you. (It had taken two years of writing for you to convince Robb to stop calling you “Your Grace” at the top of every letter.)

“Have you decided which wolf is who?” Robb asked, standing at your side to watch the little wolves.

You nodded. You pointed out Robb’s wolf first. Grey Wind, a smoky grey pup with bright golden eyes. “The others watch him. They follow him like little ones look to their eldest sibling.”

Grinning, Robb bent down on one knee and called Grey Wind to him. The wolf ran over eagerly but paused to consider you. You lowered to be closer to Grey Wind’s height and reached out a hand, which the wolf sniffed at, before licking at you and allowing you to stroke his head.

You could not hide your own grin. “He’s beautiful. They all are.” Grey Wind seemed to understand you and nuzzled against you.

“Are you looking forward to the feast tonight?” Robb asked. Grey Wind ran back to his siblings and Robb took you hand, helping you to your feet.

You gave a shrug. “It will be nice to see your family again, properly. But I’ve never been so fond of feasts.” A red flush painted your cheeks. “I prefer quiet evenings.”

“Then perhaps I will find you later and free you. I’ll find a nicer way for us to spend the night.”

You smiled at his kindness. “Thank you. That would be wonderful.”

Robb mirrored your smile. “I’ll see you later.”

***

The feast was as lively as you had anticipated. It was not the noise and the food that you found wretched, or the company of your siblings, it was the rowdiness that came with alcohol. At the top of the hall, beneath the high table where Lord and Lady Stark hosted your parents, you sat with your three siblings and the Stark children. You made polite conversation with the eldest Stark daughters, Alys — who you were glad to see again — and Sansa, who had been too young to join in your games last time you had visited. It took three quick glasses of sweet wine to begin to dull your senses enough to start to enjoy yourself.

Hours passed and courses of food were devoured, little Tommen tugged on his eldest sister’s sleeve. You looked down at your brother. “Are you alright?”

“Do we have to stay at the feast all night?” the little Prince asked.

You shook your head. “Of course not. We can leave whenever you like.”

“Can we go now then?”

You stood and picked Tommen up under his arms to lift him off the bench.

Myrcella had been sitting on Tommen’s other side. “Can I come too?” she asked, pushing her plate away.

You smiled and reached out for your sister. “Always.”

You kept a tight hold of your brother and sister’s hands as you weaved through Winterfell’s great hall. Past the singing bard, your father and his drunks, and the guards by the door. The cold night air made the Baratheon siblings’ cheeks turn red. Also outside you found Joffrey. You had not seen him slip away from the feast.

“Joff, you should stay inside. You’ll catch your death out here,” you warned. Myrcella and Tommen skipped off in the direction of their guest rooms.

Joffrey gave a bitter laugh. “Always the mother. Good thing you’ve had plenty of practice with those two before Robb Stark gives you your own wolf pack. Are you looking forward to it, sister? To be bedded by a wolf?”

You wondered what could have gone wrong for your brother to turn out so rotten when Myrcella and Tommen had always been so sweet. Whatever it was, you were happy to watch Joffrey saunter away from you. You wished you could wipe that smirk from his face. Gathering the fabric of you skirt in your hands, you raised the hem of your dress off the ground and followed after your youngest siblings.

The three siblings settled in your room. Myrcella and Tommen, in their nightclothes, nestled warm under the blankets of the bed, while you sat the foot of the bed

Myrcella whispered your name. Her emerald eyes glitter in the glow of the smouldering fire you had tried to light. “You won’t leave us forever will you?”

“I would never,” you promised. “I will live here once I marry, but I will visit often. And one day, you two will also marry wonderful people and have your own castles.”

“Can you tell us a story?” Tommen asked, tucked up to his chin in the warm furs. “You’re the best at stories.”

You chuckled. “Then what story would you like to hear tonight?”

***

Robb found you outside, bright as a midnight sun. He watched you walking back towards the great hall from the guest quarters. The clouds had opened to release a gentle fall of snow upon the castle. Robb found himself staring at you again as snowflakes landed in your hair. Six years had not taken the wonder from your eyes as you grinned, twirling alone in the snow. Robb felt as though he was intruding. He turned to leave, to return to the feast and wait for you there, but gravel crunched heavily underfoot and you found him.

You blushed scarlet. Your figure straightened, ever regal. The glow in your eyes dissipated. Disappointment and guilt spread through Robb as ice froze a lake. “I’m sorry,” he spoke quickly to get ahead. “I should not have disturbed you–”

You shook her head, brushing snow out of your tightly wound southern-styled hair. “No, I’m sorry. I was acting improper. It’s just–”

“–Been a long time? I know.” Robb came closer to you and offered you his arm. “You don’t have to hide from me. We can dance in the snow all night if you want to.”

You giggled and took Robb’s arm. “That would be far nicer than spending the rest of the night inside.”

Robb took you in the direction of the godswood, where he knew it would be quietest. “The men are going hunting tomorrow. Would you come with me?”

“Oh.” The pinkness returned to your cheeks. “I cannot ride. I was never taught. My mother thought my skills should be better tuned elsewhere.”

“I could teach you.” Perhaps his tone was too eager. Taryn had not been here a day yet. They entered the woods, there were enough gaps in the dark clouds to allow moonlight to shine through and illuminate the trees.

You smiled — the same smile you had given Grey Wind earlier in the afternoon, the same smile that came in the snowfall. “I would love that. It’s suffocating sometimes to be in the castle, unable to go where I like because I need a carriage to take me around.” You shuddered.

“I won’t keep you caged in,” Robb said. “You’ll be safe and free here at Winterfell. I promise.”