#gendry fanfiction

[laurellerual]

Day 6: 5 year skip proceeds au

They elope in the night, fleeing into the darkness, into the forest, guided by the incessant howling of the wolves. 

It was an impulsive decision made out of fear of marching north, home, only to be separated again by stupid lords and their stupid games.

They take their oaths in the freezing air of a misty morning, under a big oak. The trees around them and the embers of the fire are their witnesses

They are not dressed in embroidered cloaks, but in tattered war banners and golden leaves. There are no wreaths of winter roses, wildflowers will do.

There is no silk gown to slip off, just old boots, rusty chain mail stolen from a corpse. There is no featherbed, deep and soft, just the grass crisp with frost.

[llonelygoddess]

How they react to...Finding out you're pregnant

Romantic Pairings: Ned Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Theon Greyjoy, Jaime Lannister, Khal Drogo, Jorah Mormont, Brienne of Tarth, Missandei, Podrick, Gendry

Ned Stark: This man is over the moon when you tell him you’re expecting. He’s raised 5 already but for you he’d raise another 5 if possible lol He’s always got his hands on your belly and asking if you need anything. His favorite thing to do is talking to the baby later at night when you’re asleep, whispering how much it’ll be loved and cared for by the both of you.

Margaery Tyrell: Thrilled. You two definitely planned this pregnancy so she’s thrilled to hear you’ve finally conceived. She’s keeping Maesters around the clock just for you and making sure you have regular check ups. You both love looking at all the fabrics and books and toys you’ll be gifting your baby. She wants this child to have everything she had and more, so beware your child may be spoiled rotten lol

Pre Reek!Theon Greyjoy: Theon doesn’t even know what to say. He’s nervous about what that would mean for you and the child title wise. Would the babe be labeled a bastard? Would you be treated as a whore? The questions will drive him crazy if you don’t bring him back down to earth. As much as he’s there for you, you have to be there for him during this time.

Jaime Lannister: In the beginning he’s more worried than anything. Knowing how crazy Cersei is he has to hide you away, promising to be with you soon. Once he finds a way to sneak away to you for good, he’s all hands on deck. He’d learn to cook a bit, take up the cleaning, even learn to stitch a little to give the baby an embroidered blanket. It’s not what you expected but considering his other kids barely know him it makes sense how serious he is about this one. He wants to get it right this time.

Khal Drogo: He sees you as his goddess, mesmerized with the way you carry his child. He kisses your belly and announces it to the whole Khalasar. During your pregnancy he doesn’t baby you, finding beauty in your strength, but he is wary of you being around the other men. They’re rough and callous and you are soft and breakable, something that keeps him up at night. Whenever he goes out riding he always comes back with a gift that he presents to you in front of everyone.

Jorah Mormont: He never thought he’d be lucky enough to have children, especially with someone as special as you. He’s definitely crying when he hears the news. He can’t help it, a family of his own is all he’s ever wanted. Even knowing how strong you are, he’ll ask you to stay home and to let him do any and all work that needs to be done. He’s heard horror stories of pregnancies going wrong and he refuses to let anything happen to you.

Brienne of Tarth: Finding out you're pregnant would be the scariest moment of her life. Which isn't to say she doesn't want kids, but the world you live in wasn't ready for a relationship like yours. Two non-men finding love within each other wasn't accepted, let alone them raising a child together. Eventually, through many talks with you and Podrick, she calms down enough to enjoy this special moment in time with you.

Missandei: When Missandei first finds out, she's immediately in preparation mode. With the life she's lived she knows how cruel and evil life can be, so she takes it upon herself to make everything as perfect for you and the babe as possible. She’s asking Danaerys for healers and compiling blankets and toys from nearby towns. You’ll want for nothing with her by your side. When she’s not in crisis mode she’s sitting with you in bed fantasizing about the languages and history she’ll teach the baby.

Podrick: He gets so overwhelmed when you tell him he faints. Poor bb. When he wakes he asks if it was a dream and when you tell him no he kisses you. He’s another one that never really thought about having a family but he’s more than ready and capable of doing it. He’s always gushing about you and the baby to Brienne or really anyone who’ll listen. Loves to put his ear to your belly and just listen.

Gendry: He never planned to have kids so young, but when you told him about the baby he realized this was his moment to step up and be better. Being a Lord now he’s able to take care of you in ways he never thought he could. Giving you a handmaid and guards is just the beginning of how he wants to support you. He worries all nine months about whether he'll be good enough for your babe, so please rub his back and tell him he'll be the best dad ever. And he will.

[super-nerd-stark-angel]

[marytunno]

-read below-

DEEPER THAN SWORDS

It was easy to be scared on the road, it was easy being scared when having to be just an orphan boy, it was easy being scared when hot tears burned Arya’s face each night at the thought of her father. She had fought her fear when the other orphan boys had tried to take her sword, Needle was hers, it wasn’t fair the way they said it was stolen, Jon wasn’t a thief and Needle was all she had left of him. Arya did want to hurt badly the baker boy but it had been easy to lash all her anger at him, even when Yoren had punished her for it, even when she had to walk on foot it had been easier than parting from her Needle.

At night the red light of the comet was shining bright among the other stars, Gendry polished his elm and looked at it as if it held the answers to the thousand thoughts haunting his mind. It looked like a sword, like the swords he had seen at his master’s shop, like the one he could have made one day… now he wasn’t going to make swords anymore he thought, he was going to fight with the sword Yoren had given him, he was going to fight at the wall and protect the people from whatever was waiting for him up there.

They were the only party walking north, crossing paths with all kinds of people, people going south running from war. Yoren had told Arya and the other recruits they had nothing to fear, they had no banner but the black cloak he wore, they were no lions nor wolves, the law protected their journey but Arya didn't feel safe, she was a wolf and she could hear them howl loud at night, a warning or maybe a battle cry.

They had been together when the guards arrived, the Bull had made Arya promise not to cry if he hurt her while practising, he had told her he was strong but she knew she was faster so she had made him promise too. It felt weird when Yoren and the other men took a stance in front of the white cloaks, they were protecting her, they were going to die for her. Arya bit her lip and tightened her grip on her sword, she could not let that happen. If Arya had been a real water dancer like Syrio, she would have fought all the guards, if Arya had been a wolf she wouldn't have been scared.

When Arry, sword in hand, went against the white cloaks Gendry cursed him in his mind, even if for some reason the guards had been after the young boy he owed nothing to the other recruits, Arry should have been more careful, Gendry should have been more careful too but instead, he followed the small boy and then the guards called his name. 

It had been different after Yoren had threatened the guards, they kept marching north, this time avoiding the Kingsroad, feeling like prey running from starved hounds, Yoren had told Arya to fear not the animals but only the men wearing beasts on their banners so they kept marching but with the whole world burning around them it was only a matter of time before it crumbled on them.

Gendry hated how everyone had felt like asking him questions as if he had any idea about why the queen of all people wanted him dead, he had done nothing wrong, he had nothing to hide. It felt odd, surrounded by thieves and killers and all sorts of criminals, being the one the guards had been looking for. Arry had thought they had been after him. Gendry's mind was full of thoughts as they searched for some sort of supplies in an abandoned village, the sunlight reflecting on the surface of the biggest lake he had ever seen. He didn’t really trust the other recruits, Yoren had said they were to be brothers but they had made no oath yet and the Wall was so far away, he had heard some of them, Kurz and CutJack and others, talking about leaving, about the others being dead weight, he agreed but he wasn’t sure he would have been able to survive on his own. He looked at Arry splashing some water on his head, he was useful enough and better than him at hunting, he seemed brave and smart even if he was small, maybe they could have made it together, protected each other on the road, he could learn to trust someone like Arry, even if he was sure he was hiding a secret.

Arya hated herself, if only she had been a real fighter she could have protected the other recruits, the little crying girl, Gendry, even Hot Pie and Lommy… She wished to be like Yoren, like Syrio had been, like her father but, instead, she was nothing, non even Arya anymore… She hadn’t been able to protect Mycah and Nymeria and her father… now she screamed “Winterfell”! as everything burned… the air in her lungs tasting of smoke and copper… her tears boiling on her cheeks as she kept fighting. Yoren told them to run, for a moment she had been scared Gendry would have stayed there like the stubborn bull he was, she did not want to leave him behind, she wasn’t going to leave anyone behind. 

After what had felt like a war, hell itself, death and then hunger while dragging around all the dead weights left, he had caught up pretty easily on Arry’s secret.  It didn’t change much for him, Arry, or whatever was her girl name, was still the only useful one, the only one that wasn’t crying about wolves or eating dirt, he wanted to tell her he knew, that her secret was safe with him, that he wasn’t going to hurt her or let anyone hurt her. Being the oldest he should have felt some kind of weight on him, an unspoken duty to protect Hot Pie, Lommy and his useless leg and little Weasel, a real man would have wanted to defend them... well, most men he had met up until that moment had tried to kill them or abandoned them… he should have cared about his companions but, honestly, he only cared about his own skin, his helm and maybe Arry.

The only thing Arya could feel more than fear was her hate, her anger… looking at Polliver with Needle at his hip, it almost hurt not having her blade at her side, its familiar weight, another part of her ripped away. She hated herself as she watched the people around her be tortured and killed, she wasn’t a wolf, she felt more like a sheep, a scared sheep marching toward the slaughterhouse. She hated having to look at Dunsen wearing Gendry’s helm, it had been his as Needle had been hers, what else could they take from them? Their lives didn’t seem enough. "Fear cuts deeper than swords" had said once Syrio and now Arya knew fear better than ever in her life, fear keeping her from talking back to the guards, fear to help the older girls, save them from the soldiers, fear to just die and never see her home again… and as they approached Harrenal a new fear: wondering if in those halls stained with blood and burned by fire something far worse was waiting for them.

Again my deepest fear is to wander astray from the prompts haahah, I tried to focus on Arya and Gendry's possessions as they were on the road up until when they lost them to the mountain's men...

Not my best work but I wanted to post this anyway, hope you liked it <3<3

[agirlhasmanyfandoms]

The worst thing about reading fanfics is when people don’t know how to tag relationships. I just wanted to read some Arya and Gendry goodness, decided to give a fic a chance and came across Gendry harboring feelings for Sansa and then cheating on Arya with Sansa. Why put me through this?! I have my filters on for a reason 😭

[fineosaur-writes]

We’ll All Be Here Forever | e | chapter ten: arya ii

a fic by @fineosaur and @stompandhollar

After years of dating, Arya finally introduces her partner, Gendry, to her family.

Over the years the Starks slowly find their way back to Winterfell. After Robb is the last to leave and first to return, more of his siblings filter back into their childhood home.

So much has changed, and yet so much is still the same. Between surviving their parents and adulthood, and their complicated romantic entanglements, the Starks find that their paths are easiest when they're together.

[zepskies]

GAME OF THRONES MASTERLIST

Jon Snow ⚔️

(**Notes 18+ only and/or smut)

Every Loyalty** - (Jon Snow x OFC)

"You claim that you'd break loyalty to your house and pledge allegiance to the North," Jon said. "But as you said, your family's full of liars."

Whatever word he willed, his people would carry it out. Even if Larisa lived, this man, this King in the North could make her a glorified slave if he so chose. She was a Lannister, truly at the mercy of the North.

Series Complete

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[katlyn1948]

Look, I honestly don't know where this is going, but I needed to write and this is what I came up with. IDK if this will be something but enjoy it!

The cool brisk metal tickled along the concave between her breasts. The silver chain cascaded through the air as it maintained its clasped position around his neck and the only movement it offered was the rhythmic synchronized motion of his rocking hips. As Gendry thrusted, the silver chain followed and the ring at the end grazed across Arya’s heated skin.

The steady cadences of their mingled breaths reverberated around the room while Arya’s throaty mews shattered the silence. They had been going for hours, completely lost in the euphoric oblivion of each other.

As the sweat began to trickle down Gendry’s chest, Arya couldn’t resist the urge to lap at it with her wanting tongue. His salty taste exploded across her taste buds, garnering a guttural moan from her chapped lips.

Egged on by her pleasurable sounds, Gendry’s pace shifted. What was once a steady metronome became an allegro of heated beats. His fingers dug into her supple skin as his grip tightened along her vivacious waist. His other hand burrowed into the headboard above them, and his brows furrowed as his concentration to rip her over the edge multiplied tenfold.

Arya gasped at the sudden tempo change, from soft and melodic to rough and raucous. She couldn’t keep her nails from digging into the curve of his rounded ass, imprinting him as hers.

Her pleasure was teetering and as he pushed deeper and went hard, she knew it was only a matter of time before she plunged from the precipice and into a shattering oblivion.

As her insides coiled, she clenched, gripping him like a vice and extracting his own reckless abandon, milking him of all he was worth.

His worn body collapsed onto the downy bed beneath him, and he curled his burly arms around Arya’s small frame, pulling her close to his heaving chest. She burrowed her face into the warmth of his embrace and took a deep breath. He smelled of her; their scents mingled together in a wicked dance.

“How long?” she asked, her voice rough from the strain it endured yelling his name.

“An hour before someone starts to notice.” He replied as his fingers tickled the ends of hair that gave way to the middle of her back.

A rigid chill swept across Arya’s spine as she took in the revelation. “When will you be back?”

“Two weeks, if the catch is good. Will you manage?”

No. “Yes.”

“And you?”

Arya sighed and pushed herself from his embrace. She sat up and curled her legs beneath her before resting her head on her waiting knees. She studied him then, letting her eyes roam over the dips and falls of his body. He was a stunning creature with his large shoulders and strong arms and the midnight black of his paired with the ocean blue of his piercing eyes. It's no wonder she kept crawling back.

“No assignment. I’ll be here in the apartment.” Alone.

Gendry chuckled, “You’ll go mad with nothing to do and no one to kill.”

“Maybe I will be able to rid my home of your insufferable scent.” A smile danced across her lips. “Do a bit of deep cleaning.”

“I find that doubtful,” he growled as he snaked his arms around her waist before pulling her back into the safety of his arms.

Arya felt content in the confines of his embrace. Just his presence alone set an ease to the raging sea that stormed her brain. It was such a powerful relief and one she hadn’t had in a long time. But his visits were far and few in between and in just under an hour her thoughts would be scattered once more.

“Be careful out there.” She breathed against his bicep that lay nestled just beneath her head.

She could feel the cascade of kisses he planted down her spine and she couldn’t help the goose flesh that echoed across her skin. “I always am.”

“I know you are, but the sea is a treacherous place. It can be calm and steady one moment and dangerously unforgiving the next. Trust me, I know.”

Her heart ached for the longing of wanting to be at sea. The adventurous side of her craved it. But the accident left her scarred with fear that nearly crippled her every time she set foot on a boat.

Her retirement forced by the hands of fate.

“The boys and I have handled our fair share of anger ocean. We will be fine.” Gendry placed one more kiss upon her shoulder before pulling himself away from her warm bed.

Arya could hear him rummaging for his jeans as she faced away from him, not wanting to see him leave.

“I have to go over checklist today. Davvos left me in charge.” He climbed in behind her, forcing her to face him. “Don’t I always come back?”

She huffed, “Yes.”

“Then I’ll see you in two weeks.” He captured her lips once more before pulling himself from the bed and grabbing his rucksack by the door.

“Gendry?” She said before he had a chance to open the door. “I’ll see you then.”

A smile crept to his face, “I’ll see you then.”

And then he was gone.

And Arya was left alone in her apartment with a dreadful feeling that she pushed to the back of her mind because he always came back.

[hyacinths-bridgerton]

I've been feeling a little... well, awful, and to fix what I can of my mood, I've been writing something very atypical--for me, at least. mostly because my typical is working on whatever I already have going on and I have some thing on my plate already. It's outlined and advanced on writing, but I wanted to take a time before actually publishing it. However, it doesn't hurt to share a little something, right? So here you can see, the opening scene of A LADY'S TRADE, a regency gendrya fic:

⊱―⊰

A LADY'S TRADE

Jon didn’t know quite well what to expect when he received a message from Arya calling him to talk business.

In all honesty, he simply could not predict much from his cousin—more like sister—of late. They had spent so long apart that now he could hardly recognize her. When they parted, she was a small girl and now she was a grown woman.

It was disturbing, to say the very least.

Admittedly, their whole lives had been disturbing thus far.

After all, they had all been split up from a young age, when it was too dangerous to be named Stark, after the Lannisters managed to usurp the Throne and persecuted all of them, and sent to each end of Westeros, disguised and, hopefully, safe.

It was only recently, when Daenerys Targaryen had taken her rightful crown, that the remaining Starks had been reunited again.

There were only five of them now. Jon, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon, trying to get acquainted to each other once more after years apart with not one word of one another.

Bran and Rickon were off at school while Jon tried his best to manage everything that was left for them.

That’s why when Arya called him to talk business, he knew at least that she meant something related to inheritance.

What he did not expect was for her to say, “I want to get married”

Jon stares at her, waiting for the moment she’ll beam and say it’s all a jest with him, but she keeps solemn.

In a business expression.

Seven hells.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said I want to get married,” she repeats, unfazed. “I figured I’m already of marrying age and should take action on it”

“You’re younger than Sansa and she’s not wed yet,” Jon points without thinking. “And you might want to take one year or two to enjoy the comforts of our recent safety without feeling like you need to chase after a betrothal”

“There is no comfort I want and can enjoy as an eligible lady that I couldn’t take pleasure as a married one,” she says and Jon looks at her, really looks at her.

She’s still a small thing if compared to the rest of them, short and skinny, although now her presence fills the entire drawing room, commanding and determined. She’s all conviction, and he can see that she has really thought that through. It’s not an impulse, it’s not something she feels obliged to do.

Arya really and simply just wants to marry.

He never thought he’d live to see this day.

“Very well,” he concedes, sinking into an armchair, not knowing how to deal with the news standing. “So, you want to get married”

She sighs in exasperation, “Yes, Jon, for goodness’s sake, that is what I said”

“Forgive me if I wasn’t prepared!”

Arya sits in a three-placed sofa next to him and keeps silent for a moment, to which Jon is grateful, because his brain is trying to process what exactly this means.

It takes a while, but he revisits the whole process in his brain. When a young eligible lady wishes to be wed, she needs a dowry, which isn’t a problem, thanks to Arya’s parents, who organized the heritage of each of their children before passing.

She also needs permission from her family and from her legal tutor. For Arya, that meant him. Not that he was the heir of all the Stark estate, but he was the only member of the family alive, legal, and available to deal with such matters. He had spent the last months learning the letters and numbers required for such a job while Bran—the official heir to the House Stark, still too young to take his task in his hands— was still at university.

Having all of that already prepared, there was only one thing to be taken care of, and Jon realized that was probably the lead subject when the theme was planning to get married.

“I suppose we’ll have to discuss the best available suitors for you,” he suggests hesitantly, feeling the uncomfortableness of discussing such matters with someone he had thought a little child for so long. He never thought he would have such a conversation with Arya Stark of all ladies.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” the girl smiles wolfishly and sinks into the sofa, completely relaxed, her crossed arms in not a very ladylike posture. “I already know who I want as my husband”

There should be no room for doubt in the way she speaks, and yet Jon thinks he never doubted so much his own beliefs until this moment.

It wasn’t even just because Arya was his little cousin anymore—but it was still a factor that would most probably plague him for a very long time yet—because he could put that aside for a moment to try and evaluate the subject.

It was that Arya Stark was a young woman who barely ever engaged in social events ever since they had been reunited. As a wealthy and infamous family that was recently involved in such an altercation, House Stark was in no short demand of invitations for social gatherings, and yet Arya avoided most of them, allegedly to avoid the whispers that followed them wherever they went. She did join Sansa once or twice, but the occasions were rare.

Jon never knew her to fed the attention of any men who might have courted her. And yet, she had already a suitor in mind.

“And who might he be, dare I ask?”

“Do you, by any chance, know the Heddle family?”

“I do,” he answers, thinking of the Crossroads Inn, known throughout Westeros and kept by the Heddles.

“And do you know that their eldest daughter, Jeyne, is engaged?”

Jon frowns, unsure where this is going, “Yes, I’ve seen the lady with her fiancé. I even met Mr. Waters on occasion.”

Arya smiles.

“He’s the man I want as my husband”

Jon blinks.

Now this for sure was the jest he thought was coming before because there’s no way in the Seven Hells this is really happening to him…

“I beg your pardon?”

Her smile doesn’t faulters for a second, “I have the entire ordeal already planned, Jon, so listen carefully and assist me, because my mind is made and will not waver”

When she explains, all Jon can think is how there was no letters or numbers who could have prepared him to deal with Arya Stark.

[reyloner]

Head vs Heart

A career-defining interview gone awry isn’t exactly the victorious start to the Season Gendry hoped for, but it has him more determined than ever to put it all behind him and impress enough to finally earn his way onto England’s national squad.

Which would be easy to focus on, he thinks, if it weren’t for the constant coincidental run ins with Arya Stark – the very woman who conducted said terrible interview – and his inability to think of anything but her.

Read Chapter One 💖

[laurellerual]

Alysane Mormont, Jeyne Poole, Arya Stark

I'm reading this Arya fanfiction and I'm loving it, I recommend it!

Sleeping Sickness by itsAsecrett @leavethesoulalone

[damn-stark]

Chapter 13 The court of women

Chapter 13 of Sandstorm

A/N- It keeps getting better!

Warning- Violence, blood, swearing, talks of death, fluff, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

“My son was stolen from me, my first born boy. He was sweet, good, and he was taken from me,” you swallow back the thick clump of emotions that had begun to cling on your throat. “I know there are fathers, mothers especially here who understand such pain. It’s a pain unlike any other, one you can never recover from. It’s why I ask you now, mothers, sisters, aunts, fight with me. Join my armies, rise alongside the men. Protect your children, your nephews and nieces, your cousins, siblings. Don’t hide under the shadows any longer.”

Whispering against your speech begins to fill the room, men mostly seem to be the ones with something against it.

You albeit knew this would happen, people aren’t as open minded as they are in Dorne. Sansa told you this would happen, it’s why you sat here with no plan to back away, you were only going to push forward with new ideals to progress this old world further.

“From now it will be law that any woman who wishes to be a knight, a soldier, can do so without protest from their husband or father,” you continue, causing the row to get louder. “From now it will be law that disregarding gender, the first born will inherit lands, families homes, castles, and titles like the first born male does. Of course this will apply for the new generation, I don’t wish to start wars between families who have already settled.”

You glance at Sansa to share with her a quick passing look, and she manages to shoot you a faint supporting smirk.

“You really expect me to put a sword in my daughter's hands and send her off to battle with all those men?” A lord interjects as he stands up to be seen and heard by everyone. Some agree, but some don’t say anything. “They are the ones who bring new life to this world, they…support homes, and are the warmth men return to after war.”

You remain nonchalant and shrug. “Aye,” it slips from your mouth after getting accustomed to the word thanks to Jon. “They are, but need I remind you it also takes men to create life. You all still go to war and risk your lives. They support homes, keep the children fed and your clothes clean, but no one will obligate them. They will have a choice. All women.”

“What does a woman know about ruling a land?” Another man cuts in, making Sansa, Arya, your sisters, and you scoff.

“So what?” You quip with a bit of annoyance now. “Are you saying that Lady Sansa, and I know nothing? I can give you a long list of women rulers that were far greater than any man. I can give you a list of women who have taken over the kingdoms of their husbands. They will learn, as boys do.”

“No,” another person disagrees. “I cannot agree to these….” He pauses and looks at you and then at your sisters, letting you know at that moment what he’s referring to. Of course he’s being racist.

“If it does not please you, my lord,” Jon cuts in this time in your defense. “You may leave. No one will stop you, you can join Daenerys after you get past the dragons past these gates. There is no argument to be had lords, it’s not up to debate, the law is made by your Queen,” he says in a louder and more firm voice. “It is time we move on from some old ways. I will do the same, if a daughter is born to me first she will be heir to her mothers throne. My own sister will rule Winterfell and all the north once we take the throne, Ser Brienne is Lord Commander of the Queensguard. If your ego is so fragile then perhaps you can find luck with the other Queen, or try and be independent. Let's see how that goes.”

You raise your chin with pride and shoot the men a pointed glare.

“Moving on then,” you continue and flick your wrist down on the armrest. “Soon we will be conducting an attack against Queen Daenerys to retrieve Tyrion Lannister, in an attempt to gain The Westerlands as an ally. I need women volunteers willing to fight.” You look around at the women around the hall. “The fight won’t be a long one, it’s just our first strike to start this war, the attack will be an ambush, a ruse to say. I and the King will watch from the skies and swoop to burn the remaining army that will be outside the gates attempting to help. Any volunteers?”

“If I may?” A lady pitches as she stands up. “Why should we risk our lives for someone part of Daenerys court? Is Ser Jaime not enough?”

You sigh, and Sansa steps in this time. “Possibly, but our cause will be stronger if both Lannister men are at our side, besides you won’t risk your lives to save him. We have a plan for that, you will risk your lives for your Queen, for yourselves so the injustice done to Prince Rhaenar won’t be repeated. So our home won’t burn to the ground the same way Daenerys burnt Kings Landing.”

You lower your gaze and fist one hand to fiddle with your rings.

“I will volunteer,” a women in the back interrupts and stands up to be seen.

“I will as well,” another stands up, and twenty more women follow after that, making you straighten up and smile faintly.

“Good,” you say. “You all can go with Ser Striker, here,” you point to the tall, lean and broad shouldered Dornish warrior at the end of the stairs. “He and Ser Jaime will overlook training.”

Now with the Lords who pledged their allegiance to you, and this new law shared, this meeting comes to end, letting you slouch and exhale deeply. Albeit as the crowd filters away, Jon is taken away too to help others.

“My Queen,” Ser Brienne interjects and walks around the throne to face you. “I have chosen some candidates to join the Queen's Guard. I just need your approval.”

“Oh,” you mutter and offer her a thankful smile. “Alright. Let’s go now then.” You attempt to push yourself off the chair, but Sansa grabs your arm and helps you up.

You roll your eyes since the action is small, but feel grateful regardless. Even as she holds onto you as you walk out the training yard with Ser Brienne.

“I swear you got bigger overnight,” Sansa mentions and looks at you with a happy smile.

You sigh and rub your belly. “Aye, I think I did. My dresses aren’t fitting anymore. It’s not time yet but it feels as if I’m going to burst,” you giggle softly and meet her gaze with a smile.

Sansa hums softly and then uses her other hand to feel your swollen belly. “Does it feel different than before.”

You look ahead and nod. “Yes, completely. Now my urge to use the lavatory is more often. And there is a constant dull pain on my ribs this time since there’s one little babe who is constantly kicking.”

Sansa’s grin widens at the mention. “That one will be a fighter then?”

You can’t help but mirror her gesture and nod. “That’s what Jon says. He’ll grow gray hairs for sure.”

Sansa laughs softly. “It’s lucky he’s quite patient then.”

You nod, letting her continue.

“I don’t know if I have said this before, but I am glad Jon met you. It seems that ever since I have seen him with you there’s this spark that wasn’t there before.”

You blink in disbelief and meet her pale blue eyes.

“He smiles a lot at you, and is never far from you.”

You scoff softly and can’t help the heat that begins to burn your face as you grow flustered.

“And I have never seen him so excited as he is now waiting for those baby’s to be born.”

“I’m lucky I met him too,” you mutter softly. “He,” you sigh. “He’s very kind. Gentle, loyal and passionate.”

Sansa giggles. “Is he?”

You nod. “He is, of course he’s mostly so in private. I never thought that I’d actually be fortunate enough to have someone like him, you know? I was told that I was going to be matched with someone, at first it was my uncle, Viserys, Daenerys brother, then it was your brother Robb Stark.”

“Really?” Sansa cuts in with disbelief.

You nod. “Yes, but of course before the proposal could be shared it was heard he was married.”

Sansa smirks. “That’s something I would’ve liked to see.”

“But,” you continue to add. “Marrying out of love is something I never knew I would get, now that I have it I’m thankful.”

Sansa hums softly before she grabs onto you tighter. “I’m glad the gods put you in our lives. I’m glad you got what you wanted. You deserve it.”

“You,” you press her now and meet her gaze. “Will you give love a shot now? And I don’t mean marry someone because it’s what’s best for someone else, but for love.”

Sansa looks ahead and swallows thickly. “I,” she sighs. “Don’t know. Perhaps maybe in a couple years. Then again my duty should come first.”

You scoff and shake your head. “You’ve done that already; Respected your duty and married someone you didn't like, now it's time for you to control your own destiny. You deserve to be loved, and love someone unconditionally.”

Sansa blinks repeatedly as she lets out a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Well,” you add excitedly. “If you are willing, I know some people. I have a cousin from my mothers side, he’s brothers with the new prince of Dorne. He’s tall, kind, and devoted. He likes poems, and he is a skilled fighter.” You grin, and see Sansa hide her smile.

“Take your time though,” you assure her and just smirk deeper. “And you, Ser Brienne,” you pull her into the conversation and peer back. “Have you and Ser Jaime deepened your relationship?”

The knight looks at Sansa in disbelief as to how you knew, before exhaling and shaking her head as she meets your curious gaze. “No, not since he left. But even if he didn’t I am now a sworn knight to the QueensGuard, I’m forbidden.”

You snicker. “Forbidden from marriage and bearing children, yes, but not forbidden from having fun. You can still divulge in your own pleasures, men do it all the time even after they’ve had the same titles you do. Just make sure to make it to your watch and be attentive when it’s your turn. That’s all.”

“I don’t think I will,” she says. “It’s just not me.”

You hum and respect her decision. “All right, I respect it, but just know that if you want to drink until you pass out or lay with men, you may. I trust you to know your limit. That’s all.” You offer her a kind smile before you look ahead and watch guards open the doors to the training yard.

There are many people scattered about the yard all occupied on their own thing, there a group of women gathered around Podrick Payne, Ser Brienne’s squire. When they all see you walking down the steps they all turn and stop what they’re doing to bow and curtsy.

It’s still a strange concept to see, all these people now so attentive towards you. It’s not unfamiliar, you’ve been apart of royal life because of your uncles, but it’s strange now because it’s directed at you.

“It’s okay,” you address the crowd. “Back to you were.”

Those scattered around focus back on their own thing, letting you come to a stop regardless to let Ser Brienne walk ahead towards the group of women and Podrick.

“My Queen,” Ser Brienne interjects and shoots the women and Podrick a passing look that makes them line up in a straight line. “These are the candidates. Here,” she points to a young looking, but rather short, and muscularly toned woman with dark brown skin and black hair that almost matched the night sky. “Lana, she was picked from the Dornish forces, she’s not as tall as the others, but she’s quick on her feet, harsh with her strikes, and skilled with many weapons.”

You hum and study her toned body before landing on her black eyes that looked as if she was piercing into your soul. She looks intimidating, making for a perfect demeanor for a Queensguard.

“Good,” you comment. “The next?”

Ser Brienne nods and walks past Lana to point at the next woman, she’s average height, leaner, but she still has toned muscles.

“This is Marielizabeth, she’s one of the freefolk that remained here. She’s vicious, and strong. She’s mostly skilled with an axe, but still very skilled with other weapons. Impressively so.”

You hum and notice scars all over her arms; stories you always liked to think. So she’s quite experienced, and not afraid to get hurt, which is good.

“This is May,” ser Brienne points to a tall woman you recognize from the Dornish armies; she’s not the same height as Ser Brienne, but she’s close. Her shoulders are broad, and her biceps are big, she’s built like an ox. She’s very impressive.

“She was one of my first picks, she’s commander of one of the Dornish armies. That speaks for itself,” Ser Brienne adds, making you hum in comprehension. “This is her twin sister, Rayne,” Ser Brienne continues to point at the woman next to May. She wasn’t as muscular as her sister, but you can tell she’s just as fierce. “She’s skilled with a great many weapons. Reserved, but fierce. Next, is Alys Snow, she prefers long rage attacks, but she is also good at hand to hand combat.”

Alys has very strong northern features, dark eyes, dark hair, tall, pale, and dark long hair, albeit her hair does have a white streak that goes with the paler patches on her arms and over her left eye.

“And lastly,” Ser Brienne finishes and stops by Podrick. “The man I vouch for, Podrick Payne. He has trained under me for years now. He’s grown skilled, he’s loyal and will never let you down.”

You lift your chin and narrow your gaze whilst you let go of Sansa to slowly approach all the candidates. “I’m impressed Ser Brienne, by all the candidates, there are somethings I want to ask all of you though,” you draw in a deep breath and look down the row of people. You then exhale at the same time a mighty roar breaks in the sky, like a clap of thunder, sudden and booming. All their eyes snap to the sky above you to look for the dragon that they hear, but Eraxis is quiet and surprises them by descending down from behind them.

They only know of her presence when her large feet hit the roofs, and her head is already lowering in the courtyard.

“Are you scared?” You ask the lined up candidates whilst you slowly stride around them to reach Eraxis’s side. “Are you willing to give your lives for me, are you willing to give your hearts, and spill your blood?”

All eyes leave the dragon at your side and try to focus on you even as Eraxis begins to snarl. “Yes,” they all answer simultaneously.

“Good,” you assure them as you nod. “Now,” you say and reach over to caress Eraxis' side. “I will give you a choice, all of you. You can leave,” you say honestly and drift your gaze to them. “You may follow Daenerys if it suits your beliefs, if you see her as the true Queen. You may leave anytime you want in fact, just know if you turn your cloaks and betray me there won’t be a corner in this world where you can hide from me and Eraxis.”

The mighty white she-dragon snarls louder, flashing her sharp and large black teeth.

“We will give our lives for you, Queen,” May says and steps forward to get on one knee. The others do the same thing right after, letting her add on. “From this day until the rest of our days. Our lives and weapons are yours.”

You exhale deeply and drop your scowl to offer them a soft nod. “Good,” you comment. “Very good. Get up Knights of the Queensguard.”

Eraxis pulls her head back and grows quiet, letting you lean your head against her. “I hope,” you add. “You get accustomed to Eraxis quickly, we’re quite attached, and if the gods are generous then there will be more dragons when my children bond with their dragons.” You sigh and face them. “And now you may get fitted for armor, and white cloaks, thank you.” You turn and hurry to Eraxis' neck.

“I don’t think you should ride her,” Sansa suggests.

You flick your wrist down and brush her off. “It’s alright. I flew when I was about eight months with child with Rhaenar. Besides, Eraxis takes good care of me. I won’t fly far.”

Before Sansa can argue further, or before Jon could come and stop you, you climb on Eraxis and let her take you to the skies.

——

*LATER*

How could life turn out this way? How did you get here? So far North, so far from any grain of sand, from the beautiful glimmering sea, far from the sun? Far from home?

For so long you always longed for more, you never fit at Sunspear, there was always a part of you missing. When you met Jon it seems that the gap was filled, but now? Now with Rhaenar gone, you wish you had relished that time, your family, Sunspear, those summer nights with your sisters that are now gone. You truly belonged there and you longed for more, now there’s no place you’d rather go back in time to then those times. You’d take Jon and you’d have all you ever wanted.

You exhale deeply and open your eyes to welcome the sight of the starry sky, you reach one hand out for the shining moon in the night sky as if that was the thing needed to turn back time.

A tear escapes past your eye and brings warmth to your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to go back home, Eraxis?” You ask your dragon.

Alas she doesn’t answer and just keeps sleeping. You drop your hand back to your chest, and just as you do there descending from the stars is a dragon that looks almost black at night, but his scales gleam green thanks to the moonlight's hues; Rhaegal and Jon.

You stay where you are and watch Rhaegal land not far from you. The sound of his feet hitting the snow covered ground causes Eraxis to wake up and lift her head whilst she curls up further to hide you. Albeit when she notices it’s just Jon she eases.

His footsteps soon begin to crunch closer to you, but you continue to stay where you are and watch the stars painted in the sky.

“Aye, love,” you hear him say as he gets closer. “You had me worried. You’re not frozen there are you?”

A smile cracks on your face, and you quietly assure his worry. “No.”

He stops by you, but you can’t see because your eyes are on the sky.

“I waited for you at home, but when you didn’t come we came to you.” He continues to add. “You…have Ser Brienne worried. I think she almost climbed on Rhaegal to come search for you.”

You let out a deep sigh and answer his questions. “I just….needed to get away from it all, you know? I…I’m not used to being Queen yet.”

Jon sighs and he takes a few cautious steps forward to now be beside you, and then leans his face over so you can see him, and so he can make sure you’re actually okay.

“No one’s ready,” he says. “But we don’t run away.”

You blink slowly and finally meet his brown eyes and sit up. “Life was easier when I was just a lost princess. I…never imagined life would bring me here. I never imagined I’d be in this position.”

Jon slowly begins to take a seat beside you and lifts his gaze to the sky. “And life was easier for me when I was just a bastard outcasted in my own home….I never imagined I’d be here either.” His voice begins to soften. “When I was dying that night my brothers betrayed me, I came to terms with my death. I had to…” he pauses and lowers his gaze to the snow below you both. “But here I am, for some reason I’m still alive. Maybe it was to find you,” he admits and lifts his gaze to meet yours. “To finally understand what I want.”

You scoff softly, but can’t help your bashful smile. He proceeds to grab your hand and cups it, providing warmth to your flesh. “What do you want?” You ask softly.

Jon shoots you a soft smile and shares. “I never imagined having a family, I never gave it too much thought. I was a bastard. Here unfortunately they aren’t so welcoming to bastards like in Dorne. My place was at the Night's Watch, but after I got a second chance, when I met you I knew at that moment I wanted to be with you. I wanted a family. Now that the dead are gone I want peace, I want to see our children grow, that’s all I want.”

You draw in a deep breath and drop your gaze. “We’ve,” you breathe out. “Strayed from what we wanted haven't we? Maybe we should have stayed here in this cave.” You mention and glance at the waterfall that was in the distance, the same one you came to when Jon first rode Rhaegal.

Jon swallows thickly and nods. “We should have.”

“Do you think it was a mistake?” You blurt and keep your gaze averted. “Naming myself Queen and declaring war? I know we can’t go back anymore, but was it a mistake?” You blink and look up to meet his gaze and wait for his response.

Jon takes a moment before he answers. “No,” he admits. “It wasn’t. Besides, there's no turning back now. There’s only ahead, we fight for us, for them, for our children.”

You hold his gaze for a minute before you nod in agreement. “You’re right.” You sigh and then rest your forehead on his shoulder. “Can you stay here with me for a while longer? I don’t want to go back yet.”

Jon wraps his arm around your neck to begin caressing the back of your neck. “Of course.”

You smile softly with content and snuggle yourself closer to him. You let some silence pass before you break it with a happier topic. “Rhaenyra and Robb, does that work for you? Just Robb, Robert is a bit too inappropriate considering he’s the man that killed…you know who.”

Jon scoffs and you feel him shrug. “I truly don’t know, I’m stuck. Perhaps, Aemon? Aegon?”

You pull your head back and look at him with a questioning and judgmental look. “Aegon? Really? Aegon, the what? The tenth? No,” you shake your head. “Not Aegon. And I mean that very offensively to you, Aegon.”

Jon chuckles. “Yes, I agree, Aegon is overused. I’ll ask my sisters what they prefer.” Jon’s smirk then widens. “Sansa has shown me what she made the baby's. They're matching outfits.”

You grin. “Really? That’s cute. I can’t wait. But you’ve got to be careful, she might take your children away.” You giggle. “And raise them herself.”

Jon snickers. “Might save us the headache. They’re twins after all.”

You nod. “Very true.”

Jon’s gaze lingers on you, his smile softens and a breath catches in his throat, making your face burn hotter and your smile turn timid once again.

“I want to show you something,” he break his short silence. “It will require us to go on dragonback though.”

You squint your gaze and retort. “As long as you’re not tricking me and taking me back home then alright.”

Jon scoffs and shakes his head. “No. Not home. We’re going to the wall.”

Your curiosity grows, but you let him help you up to your feet, and then let him walk you to Eraxis side so you can climb up to your saddle. But just as you lift one foot, there in the distance approaching the waterfall you catch sight of a White Stag.

It’s white fur glistens against the moonlight's touch, its large antlers curve to the shining stars, and it’s dark eyes…they find you.

It can’t be true though, can it?

It’s a figment of your imagination….

“Jon?” You whisper and put your foot back on the ground.

“What?” He queries and looks at you.

You point at the white hart ahead, causing him to follow what you point to. When he sees it his breath catches in his throat, and you feel his body stiffen under your touch.

“You’re seeing it?” You ask.

Jon swallows thickly and nods. “Aye, I am,” he agrees, letting you know that you aren’t going crazy.

“It’s beautiful,” you muse and take a step towards it.

The white stag departs from the waterfall and slowly begins to walk towards you, alerting Rhaegal of its presence and causing the dragon to also approach.

Albeit, Jon catches his attempts and stops him. “Rhaegal, no. That’s not food.”

You pull the corner of your lips to a soft smile, and stop just as you reach Eraxis back legs so as to not startle the white stag as it comes to a stop as well.

“What do you think it’s doing all the way out here?”

“Probably just looking for food, or wandered too far,” Jon responds.

You hum in agreement and let your eyes linger on the mythical creature for a moment longer before you touch Eraxis and turn away. “Let’s go,” you tell Jon and your dragon. “Let’s leave it be.”

Jon offers his hand, and even if you really don’t need it, you take it anyway and let him help you up to the saddle. Once you’re mounted he goes to Rhaegal to climb, when he’s on top, the dragons then take flight and you don’t take long to be a part of the night sky.

Feeling the breeze on your skin refreshes your being. You wish it could blow away all the sorrow, but the wind brings no such solution, just a short relief and joy.

Once Jon and you arrive at a part of the ice wall that still stands, your curiosity only heightens since you see nothing unusual.

“What is it?” You ask him as you meet halfway between your dragons.

Jon interlaces his hand with yours and responds. “Just wait. Look ahead though.”

You squint softly before hesitantly following orders and looking at the dark horizon ahead. You wait there and let him embrace you to keep you warm since being so high up is colder.

You wait, but not so long after, just as you were going to ask why you were here, you catch it, the sun breaking over the horizon. You see its sun rays hitting the icy wall and making it shine. The bright but soft hues are mesmerizing and breathtaking. All you can do is smile.

“I’m sure you’ve missed the sun, I apologize you can't see much here,” Jon breaks the silence. “I hope this helps.”

You nod softly and break your eyes away from the rising sun to meet his blazing brown eyes already focused on you. “It’s beautiful,” you murmur.

Jon nods. “It is.” He coos and then cups your cheeks to pull you in for a sweet kiss, there in front of the blazing sunrise.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“Y/N, my love. While we were out at sea. We were ambushed, they hit our ship with a cannon before they attacked…we tried, we fought hard, but there were losses due to a fire…Rhaenar didn’t make it...”

This is for you Rhaenar. This is all for you.

You exhale deeply and press your hands on your face and drag them down to smear blood down your face. A sign of your devotion, your anger and revenge. A frightening sight as well for the enemies.

When you look up at the mirror the sight of the scarlet blood on your face even catches your own breath out of surprise, but that quickly washes away as your anger rises and replaces your disbelief. You then raise your chin and drag out a deep breath before turning and walking out of the room.

And the moment you walk past the door, two of your Queensguard knights follow behind you in their shiny silver armor that’s not as bulky as the men’s are; it lets them move better and swifter. They drag their white cloak that contrasts against your red one beautifully. More and more of them join you as you walk outside to head to your dragon and ride towards Kings Landing to commence your first attack while Jaime, Arya and your sister Sarella snuck Tyrion out.

Once you make it outside, past the gates Jon and Ser Brienne join your side and stop as you do as you see all the women that had volunteered to be a part of the diversion. It catches you by surprise, but also pride and joy that so many chose to risk their lives.

Yet just as you were going to thank them, a woman with long black hair, an aquiline nose, and tan skin places her right hand over her heart and goes down on one knee and bows her head. Some others see her do it so they mirror her actions, leaving you stunned and happy since you know what it means.

“What’s happening?” Jon asks in confusion.

Elia steps forward and you see her grin before answering. “It’s a sign of respect in some parts of Dorne. It’s only ever used for prayer, or for when you talk to your ancestors like say our Princess Nymeria. They’re showing y/n the outermost respect.”

You smile and catch that your own guards, the ones from Dorne also mirrored the actions of the women ahead, slowly causing everyone else to fall on their knee and put their fist over their heart. So you then put your own fist over your heart and bow your head.

“I swear,” you interject loudly. “I will do my best to bring every single one of you back.” You sigh with content, and then turn to face Jon as they rise. “Don’t you dare leave me alone in this world.”

Jon doesn’t question what you have on your face and cups your cheek. “I’ll try my best:”

You hold his gaze and chuckle softly before you let him pull you in for a quick but deep kiss. When he pulls back he then presses a kiss on your forehead as one last goodbye before you’re off, because regardless if you’re flying side by side, even if you were going to stay together the entire time when you’re at battle, it’s still war and either of you can still vanish. It’s why goodbyes are hard and so meaningful each time.

If it were up to him you’d be riding on the same dragon, especially the moment you arrive at the gates of Kings Landing, but you wouldn't let that happen, you’re too blood hungry, and require for this first attack to be a spectacle.

“What do you see?” Jon asks as Eraxis and Rhaegal begin to hover in the sky above the grounds of the gate. You pull out the extra telescope you always carried…out of instinct because of Rhaenar, and throw it at Jon as you look down through yours.

“The women are approaching the gates,” you share.

There was not an army of them but there were a few. And you can’t hear them all from so high, but you know what they’re saying, “mercy,” “we seek refuge from the mad queen that is forcing us to fight”. They all look homely too, exhausted to make all the unsullied believe their cry for help.

And just as you assumed they do, they take the fucking bait!

“Thank the gods,” you sigh with relief and glance over at Jon to share a relieved smile.

“I hope Arya is doing well,” Jon worries.

You look back at the women, seeing that the unsullied are bringing backup to try and help.

“I'm positive she is,” you assure him. “She’s truly impressive. I never hear her approaching when we’re home, she’s always lurking too. Besides, she was the one that got revenge for your brother and his wife, right?”

“Aye, she did,” he agrees.

“The story of how she did it is impressive and badass,” you continue. “She said she was going to uh, use other faces this time too, so perhaps, the person you should be worried about is us. Let’s hope Daenerys doesn’t come out.”

Jon stays quiet for a moment as you keep watching below.

“I don’t see Drogon anywhere,” Jon points out. “So either that’s a good or bad thing. We’ll have to wait and see.”

You hum in agreement and lean more forward to get a better view as you finally spot a glimpse of Ser Brienne, and the other girls under their cloaks as they finally begin to walk through the crowd of women to reach the leading Unsullied soldier, and begin the attack.

“It’s about to start,” you let Jon know with excitement.

And from one moment to the next, as you watch Ser Brienne pretend to be helpless she then swings her arm out of her cloak and slashes the soldiers throats, causing the twins, May and Rayne, to swiftly twirl around and switch sides to then stab more unsullied. Lana uses her speed to knock a man half her size off his feet and then rams her sword through this face, whilst Alys throws her whip around one soldier and pulls him to her blade, and lastly MariElizabeth stabs her dagger through one guards eye and then grabs him to turn him and throw him through Ser Brienne's sword.

The other women drop their helpless act and strike as well before any unsullied soldiers can strike, managing to take down half of the small army that had gone out to help.

And now before any lives can be lost on your side, Jon and you share a quick smug passing glance before you nudge your dragons. They then flap their wings, and then shoot down towards the ground with quick speed.

You may not be able to actually join the battle with your own spear in hand, but this? Feeling this rush pump through your veins and striking your heart does make up for it.

Alas, just before either Rhaegal or Eraxis can hit the ground they swoop up and rain fire over the remaining army that was unfortunate enough to be outside of the gates. Just as both dragons meet in the middle, they turn to their sides to pass each other, and then swing around your army to land in the empty space behind them.

The moment your feet hit the ground, the women all line up and let the Knights of your Queens guard stride pass to reach you, and surround Jon and you.

“Any casualties?” You ask Ser Brienne as she falls beside you.

The knight shakes her head. “None, your Grace. Just them.”

You smirk smugly and look at small flames raising out of the ash covered ground.

“There’s a few wounded,” Ser Brienne continues to add. “That’s it, nothing severe. They did good.”

You nod. “As did you. All of you,” you compliment the rest of your Queensguard. “Have Ser Podrick and my sister Elia lead the women out to get looked at before we meet up with Ser Jaime and the girls.”

Without saying anything Ser Brienne looks back to speechlessly tell Ser Marielizabeth to lead the women to those you named, whilst you stride towards the gates to wait.

Luckily you don’t long because then out comes Lord—no sorry, the King Consort, Gendry Baratheon on horseback, by his side is someone else, a tall man with brown hair, a rugged look, and wearing brown leather armor. He’s new, you haven’t seen him before, so he must be the one and only Daario Naharis, Daenerys' ex lover.

“King Gendry,” you're the one to break the silence. “Suits you. I would curtsy, but I don’t show respect for traitors.”

Gendry shakes his head and then glances at Jon beside you. “It doesn’t need to come to this. We can stop this now, just bend the knee to the Queen and all will be forgiven,” he says.

You share an unbothered look with Jon before you look around first before looking at the man again. “Where is Daenerys?”

The other man, Daario Nahris steps forward and answers. “She’s gone. She went to some place called Dorne. You know of it?”

You immediately pretend to act shocked and hurt by his insinuations so it could seem that you didn’t already have a plan.

“Daario Nahris,” you name and tilt your head. “The Queen's lover. It’s nice to finally meet you, she’s spoken a lot about you.” You smirk and drift your gaze to Gendry, catching him go stiff.

“No,” Daario clears his throat. “Just a faithful commander and follower.”

You hum and nod. “Well anyway,“ you sigh deeply. “Can you give Daenerys a message for me?” You raise your chin and continue. “If she wants me dead tell her to come face me alone, no dragons, no army, just us in hand to hand combat.” You scoff softly knowing she would lose in a second. “The winner becomes Queen. If not, well, I’m looking forward to facing her in battle.” You turn to end the conversation, but you remember one thing.

“Ah,” you share and turn around on your heels. “A congratulations is in order, I’d say becoming a father is much more complicated than leading.” You look between both men not knowing who could be the father of Daenerys child that Bran said she’s having after you did your spell.

“Regardless,” you continue. “A baby is such a miracle, especially after being told you’re barren. Give her my sincere congratulations.” You feign a smile and glance at Gendry and Daario one more time before focusing on Daario alone. “So I hope that Daenerys took company to Dorne, she’ll come to find it a futile trip. She may burn our homes, but she’ll never find them until they attack first.” You exhale and shoot them a small smirk before turning again and heading back to Eraxis, missing the confusion in Jon’s look after you shared the news about Daenerys pregnancy.

How would you know he asked himself.

He doesn’t ask you at that moment though, he stays quiet and climbs on Rheagal to then meet up with Arya, Sarella, and Ser Jaime.

It takes a few minutes for them to meet up with you at the crossroads, but when they eventually come all three come back alive and unscathed, and a man sits behind Ser Jaime.

“Arya,” Jon greets with relief and walks over to her horse to check for any wounds. “You’ve made it are you hurt?”

Arya looks down at Jon and shakes her head. “No. Thanks to the disguises we went in without getting spotted.”

“Albeit,” Sarella interjects. “He wasn’t at the dungeons, so we took a detour.”

You hum and try and examine her as best as you can. “Are you okay, Sarella?”

Said girl nods. “Of course. You might want to check Lord Tyrion’s pants, he basically shat himself when he saw us take the face masks off.” She snickers and side eyes the man behind Ser Jaime.

You follow her line of gaze and see him there, dirty, and with his facial hair a bit longer.

“It’s not true,” Tyrion rebuttals. “Just surprised, that's all.”

“Are you alright, Ser Jaime?” You continue to ask and focus on the one handed knight.

The man nods. “Yes, I’m still taken back by the fact that I had to wear someone else’s face, besides that, yes I’m fine.”

“Good.”

Tyrion then clears his throat and interjects. “I should thank you…Queen Y/N, and…King Jon, my brother says it’s thanks to your mercy that I was rescued.”

You nod stiffly. “Yes, but I’ll be honest, you're a political gain. If we didn’t need you you’d still be there.”

The man nods. “I assumed so. But just so you know I am not of high value to the Westerlands, I'm a dwarf who killed his own father.”

You scoff. “Yes I understand, but some of these Lords rather have you as their lord than follow me or Daenerys, so they’d say anything to reject me, I’m taking precautions. Isn’t that what a good ruler does?” You ask.

Tyrion sighs. “I suppose yes.”

You hum softly and then look around you. “Let’s pack up and get going before we find trouble. There’s no casualties, I want to keep it that way.”

“I swear I’ve had this very same dream once,” Tyrion mutters as he notices all the women in armor.

——

*LATER*

“Anything from the Velaryon’s?” You ask as you tilt your head and watch the small orange dragon fly about outside the window.

“The Lord Montery’s Velaryon says he will remain faithful to House Baratheon,” Sansa shares whilst she slowly approaches you. “Those taking over for the little Lord are scared. We can’t blame them.”

You sigh and nod softly. “I know. What about the man that calls himself Lord of the Waters, Aurane Waters?” You continue to ask for the bastard of Driftmark since he’s an experienced pirate with enough ships to possibly fight Daenerys.

“He says that if there’s no Queen then there’s no deal,” Sansa shares and stops by your side to watch Helios.

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Isn’t a dragon egg enough? He has Tagaryen ancestors from years of our family alliance and intertwined lineage. There’s a chance a dragon may hatch and bond to him, small but it’s there.”

“You’d think,” Sansa agrees. “But sometimes the desire for too much power is the downfall.”

You lift your head and meet her gaze to nod with a small smile. Silence then follows for a moment when you focus back on the orange dragon, but she then grows curious and interjects.

“What happens to him now?” Sansa refers to Helios. “Does he stay?”

You let out a deep breath and shake your head. “No. He’ll leave soon. He’ll wander the world alone and riderless now. Grow and just fly.” You drop your gaze to hide your watery gaze.

Sansa notices nevertheless and reaches for your hand to hold it in hers. You don’t look up at her, but you acknowledge her attempts at comfort and give her hand a gentle squeeze.

You remain that way for a few minutes until a knock raps on the door.

“Come in,” you speak out loud.

The door opens, making you peer back and catch Jon walking in. He looks the same as usual, brooding and handsome.

“Sansa is it okay if I talk to y/n…alone?” He breaks his silence as he stops past the door.

Sansa let’s go of your hand and nods before turning to you and bowing her head before walking out and leaving Jon and you alone.

“What is it?” You ask Jon and break away from your spot to approach him with a small smile. “Are you okay?” You ask and press your hands gently on his chest.

Jon meets your gaze for a second before he drops his head and sighs deeply whilst a frown forms on his lips, cluing you that this wasn’t a pleasant visit.

“What’s wrong?” You ask Jon more seriously now.

“How did you know about Daenerys?” He asks without hesitation.

You blink in surprise and scoff softly. “Bran,” you tell him the partial truth, since Bran did confirm that Daenerys did get pregnant after her wedding, after your spell.

Jon meets your gaze regardless of your answer as if he could read your mind, and presses. “Is that all? Why didn’t you share the news then?”

You shrug. “I just thought it would be surprising if I announced it when I told them too. Why does it matter?” You turn around and begin to walk back to the balcony.

Jon follows slowly and retorts. “Why does it matter? Because we’re supposed to be doing all this together. You’re supposed to share stuff with me y/n.”

You sigh and turn to face him and press on the matter carelessly. “I’m sorry I just didn’t think it was such a big deal.”

Jon holds your gaze for a second before you look away and try and turn back to continue towards Helios still flying outside your window.

“I like to think I know you well enough to tell when you’re lying,” he adds, making you hold your breath. “Please tell me I’m wrong about this matter. Tell me you’re not hiding anything about this y/n.”

You slowly breathe out as you approach the window, and argue back. “Does it matter if I am or aren't?”

Footsteps approach before he interjects. “It does. We are man and wife, you’re…you’re my best friend. Don’t you trust me?”

You let out a deep sigh and nod softly. “I do, but…” you pause and grip onto the windows railing.

“Tell me,” he insists.

“There’s just somethings you wouldn't understand,” you share and turn slowly to face him. “Things from my culture that you don’t understand.”

Jon blinks in slight disbelief before he sighs and counters. “What things?” He asks. “Help me understand then. We’re partners, help me understand because if it’s about Rhaenar than I do understand, I know you’re pain.”

You scoff and slowly shake your head. “But you don’t,” You counter. “You don’t understand my pain, my grief. He wasn’t your son, he was mine, and…everyday that passes without him I break a little inside. You—you will hopefully never feel such pain with our children, I don’t want you to. So you don’t understand Jon. You wouldn't understand why I did what I did.”

Jon holds your gaze for a moment, letting you see the wave of emotions that pass in his gaze; disbelief, hurt and confusion. “Then help me, tell me.” He insists

You hesitate for a moment, you just hold his gaze as you debate between telling him or not. But he wants to know so you do. “She was barren,” you begin to explain and stay where you are. “I did a spell that made her fertile again. Not so long after she got married Bran told me about her expecting a babe of her own. That’s all I did.”

Jon’s gaze widens and he finally closes the gap between the two of you before retorting. “Magic? You used magic?”

“It’s a war Jon—” you cut him off. “It’s a war. And it didn’t harm anyone, it was just one spell. So please don’t judge me. Magic is a part of my culture as a Valyrian. My ancestors did it, I did it before, I did it now with Daenerys, but that’s all.”

Jon parts his lips and scoffs with disbelief before he shakes his head and turns around to gather his thoughts. You stay put and watch him before you add one more thing. “A son for a son, that’s all I want. She…she needs to feel my pain, she—”

“You can’t let your anger cloud your judgment, y/n,” Jon cuts you off and turns around abruptly to face you, causing your breath to catch at the sound of his words since those words are something you’ve heard before…from your uncle Doran.

He’s gone now too. He along with everyone else.

He said those words to you before he died.

“You’ll just become one of them,” Jon adds. “You want to fight against that. You can’t become what you fear. I will support you, but not if you keep secrets, not if you kill innocent lives.”

Tears begin to fill your eyes, and your legs begin to weaken before you fall to your knees and drop your head to cry quietly.

Jon sighs and falls on his own knees to grab your cheeks and lift your face. “I,” he says. “I know our cultures are different. I can try and understand all that…magic stuff, but not if it involves sacrificing innocent lives. If Daenerys has her babe, you can’t harm it. You’ll get no relief from it, only more pain. Take her throne, get rid of her armies, but not her child. You’re better than that, I know it.”

Tears fall from your eyes, and you can’t help but drop your head as guilt begins to slam into you. “I did it,” you cry. “I did do it…but they were dying already…I just…I'm sorry. I just miss him.” You begin to sob and push his hands away out of your own shame. “Please don’t leave me. Please don’t judge me…please…I need you.”

Jon watches you for a second as he process your words before wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for an embrace. “My love,” he whispers. “I’m here. Always. I love you. Just promise me it’s the last time. Just promise me you won’t harm her child when it comes.”

You hold onto him and nod stiffly. “I promise,” you whisper but don’t mean it.

.

.

.

.

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarsslut @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

[tonyloom]

This gendrya fanfiction is so good (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)

[super-nerd-stark-angel]

Another one for you guys. 2. Of theses were posted in February but I had a third part with it.

[drymushroomfics]

Fraye Hill of House Lannister

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Chapter Thirty

Fraye can't believe Sandor isn't putting up more of an arguement. He agreed so quickly to fight Beric. She almost hates him for it.

The large fire pit in the middle of the cave shines bright. It's  warm enough to make her injured skin tingle.

She watches Thoros stare into the fire.

"Lord, cast your light upon us.", he says.

"Lord of Light, defend us.", all the Brotherhood say in unison.

Fraye's heartbeat quickens as Anguy unties Sandor.

She watches him roll his shoulders and straighten out his armor.

"Show us the truth. Strick this man down if he is guilty. Give strength to his sword if he is true. Lord of Light, give us wisdom. For the night is dark and full of terrors.", Thoros preaches.

"For the night is dark and full of terrors.", the Brotherhood repeats.

Someone hands Fraye a sword and she walks up to him, handing it to him.

"Please. I'd appreciate it if you lived.", she tells him.

He takes the sword.

"Just stay back and don't interfere. You aren't ready to fight yet... I don't go down easily so don't worry your pretty head.", he tells her, leaning down to kiss her forehead and give her a small glimpse of the Sandor she's used to.

She nods, forcing herself to move away from him.

Fraye gasps when Beric's sword ignites into a wild blaze of fire. Fear runs through her. She looks at Sandor and sees fear. She's never seen this kind of fear in him before.

Someone hands Sandor a shield and he twirls the sword around his hand, readying himself.

They both suddenly charge at each other. Sandor lunging for him but Beric dodges it. Everything moves so fast for Fraye's eyes as their swords clink together.

Fraye watches people scurry out of the way as their swords barrel through the air, knocking down everything in their paths.

Sandor knocks Beric in the shoulder, almost causing him to lose balance. He regains it quickly, twirling his torched sword through the air and stricking Sandor's sword without missing a beat.

Irritation runs through Sandor as Beric is able to handle every blow so far. Anger takes over and Sandor lunges his sword once more, missing as Beric ducks under. Fraye watches as Sandor tries again, only landing a blow to his opponent's wooden shield.

Fraye thinks of running toward Sandor when she sees Beric knock him into a lit fire.

Sparks fly and Sandor yells.

"No!", Fraye yells moving to run after him.

She's grabbed by two men, forcing her to stay put.

"Please! You can't let him burn!", she pleads with them.

"I'm sorry M'lady but his life is in the hands of the Lord. We can't interfere.", one says to her.

Sandor angrily emergers unharmed and kicks away the vases on the dirt floor that lay in his way. Beric and Sandor clink swords once more and Beric twists around, knocking Sandor to his knees.

He's quick to recover, turning around and blocking Beric's sword.

Back on his feet, Sandor barrels his way toward Beric, throwing blow after blow at him. Beric doesn't seem phased and returns the attack, throwing equal blows and knocking Sandor to his back.

Fraye holders her breath as Beric lands a hard blow to Sandor's shield, lighting it a blaze.

Sandor shoots up off the ground, trying to fight off Beric.

Fraye can see the anguish in his eyes as he tries to put out the fire. Slashing at it with his sword is no use and rage takes hold of him.

Fraye tries to fight the men holding her. Pleading with them to let go.

They refuse, holding her so tightly they dig into her wounds.

He fights Beric with all his might.

Everyone around Fraye starts to chant, "Guilty! Guilty! Guilt!"

She even hears Arya screaming, "Kill him!".

It makes Fraye's ears ring. She can feel herself start to breathe heavier and her whole body starts to shake.

The only sound bringing her back down is Sandor's battle cry.

•○•◇•○•♡•○•◇•○•

Sandor breathes heavily as he pulls his sword from Beric's shoulder. He falls to the ground, remembering the heat surrounding his arm.

He can feel panic set in. He hits at the ground hard, doing anything he can to exstinguish the flame. Childhood memories flash through his head of his brother. His whole body shakes with fear.

He doesn't even realize Fraye is next to him until she's got the shield off of him. He looks up at her and sees worry in her eyes. Seeing her face, grounds him.

He remembers where they are and turns his head just in time to see Arya Stark running at him. Her friend tackles her to the ground and Sandor finds himself laughing at the twisted fate. He killed Beric and the girl didn't manage any revenge.

He thinks their god is nothing but horse shit.

"Looks like their god likes me more than your butcher's boy.", Sandor laughs, taking in more deep breaths.

He leans his head back and feels Fraye again.

He closes his eyes for a small moment as Fraye cups his face in her soft hands.

"Are you alright?", she asks him.

He opens his eyes and looks at her. She is frantically searching his body for wounds.

He nods, turning on his side and spitting a bit of blood from his mouth.

She leans down and kisses his forehead, her touch calming Sandor's racing heart.

The "Burn in hell!", Arya yells at Sandor fading in the background.

The feeling of Fraye's touch and love is more holy than any God to Sandor.

Their focused is pulled from each other as they hear Beric speak.

"He will. But not today."

Confusion runs through both of their heads when they see him alive as if Sandor didn't just put his sword clean through him.

[fineosaur-writes]

an empire for two | e | chapter eight: hunger

Arya retreats to her chamber to find an unexpected guest.

A story where Robb rules The North almost twenty years after his father Ned Stark returns from King's Landing in 298 AC. As Warden of The North and Lord of Winterfell, Robb Stark must make tough choices in order to maintain stability of their house. Those choices include forging an alliance with house Mormont through marriage.