#he’s already a snow and he’s surrounded by white up north with a white direwolf so being the black bastard and dressing all in black

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

‘the black bastard of the wall’ moniker is the exact opposite of the ‘white wolf’ moniker and this perfectly highlights the irreconcilable differences between book Jon and show Jon

[danytherelentless]

The Silent Wolf

Jon Snow x fem!reader

summary: winters are hard but Northern wolves endure.

warnings: implied/non descriptive smut

This is just a short practice piece whilst I get back into the habit of writing again. It's not that good, but I still wanted to post it.

It is winter, and there is not enough food to put on the table. Even during summer, you could find food to be scarce in the North, but in winter, the coldest of the Kingdoms suffered most from famine.

The snow had not fallen for three days now, a welcome reprieve. And in this reprieve, you decided it would be best for your family to have one less mouth to feed, an act not uncommon in the worst of winters, unfortunately.

You arose before anyone else, stepping over the three sleeping brothers which you shared a bed with, and began to gather your belongings and nothing more.

You leave before anyone has awoken, quiet and sneakily, and do not turn back as you walk beyond the clearing and past the treeline. It is dark, and you have no light, but you do not have high expectations of survival. If the cold does not pick you off, some animal will, or some bandit or other. Perhaps, if you lived long enough, you would starve if you could not find enough food. Alas, you had your pack with furs on your back and a bow strung across your shoulder, axe and knife at your hip so you would endure for as long as you could, and you did not simply plan to just give up.

It was four lonely months in the woods, enduring snows and storms a plenty, when particularly violent snowstorm hits. The most violent you'd experienced yet. You were as prepared as you could be and made camp in your small, lonesome tent, and spent days in the dark, nibbling at your food rations and water, pushing away the quickly mounting snow in your waking hours and going mad all the while. You already were mad, you supposed.

You fall victim to a fever and are unaware of anything happening around you anymore. But you do dream. A dream of spring and a giant wolf with white fur and red eyes. Of a handsome, dark haired stranger with stone, solemn eyes. There are younger ones as well, happy and smiling, and they look just like him. They laugh and run in the green field, the sun bright overhead.

You awake beneath a roof. Furs are stuck to your clammy skin, clothes no longer covering you. You feel panic and quickly sit up. Your head is woozy, dizzying as you try to make sense of your surrounding.

Two piercing red eyes are staring at you, a silent watcher at the foot of where you sleep. A giant mammoth creature of white fur. A direwolf.

You cannot breath in it's presence, cannot find the air to fill your lungs as it stares you down so intensely.

It is only when the cabin door bursts open allowing flurries of white snow in that you look away. A man dressed in the storm steps in and slams the door shut behind him, turning the few locks to it and baring it. A prison? You wouldn't mind a prison. Perhaps without the giant wolf, however.

The tall stranger pulls down the cover to his face, a handsome one. The one of your dreams. He pulls off his fur hood and shakes out his dark curls and slowly pulls away at his layers, unaware of your staring. He was sent by the Gods, surely?

He looks to you finally with those dark eyes, a solemn and tragically beautiful face. You try not to look shocked or guilt ridden. You try to speak then, but words cannot find you.

He turns away, walks over to the lit fire on the opposite side of the cabin and stokes it, adds some more wood. The albino wolf prowls over, remarkably graceful. The cabin is larger than the one you have lived in your entire life, and he seems to fit quite well.

Both wolf and master are silent, and ignore you as he sits before the hearth and heats food. He brings some to you in your weakened state once it is readied, before returning to his place, staring into the flames.

A day passes, and he has slept by side of the fire, leaving you to his bed unless he comes to give you food.

A second passes and you are well enough to stand up and slowly put on your own clothes once again, freshly washed, you notice. He watches you as you do so, the first man to ever see you naked, though you'd shared a bed and room with some of your brothers.

The third day, you dare to sit by the fire when the giant wolf is gone. You wait with bated breath for him to speak, for him to make a move towards you, and you struggle to feel any fear. Oh, you should, you know that. Men are vile creatures and you are at his mercy. Yet you have been deprived of any human contact for months, and it's made your rather careless.

You return to the bed in the evening, and it is after you have eaten that he prowls towards you, pulling off his tunic. You know he wants your body from that look in his eyes, that he wants you. And who are you to refuse? Has he not saved your life, has he not given you shelter? In times of winter that is as good as marriage vows spoken before the eyes of a weirwood tree.

He mounts you atop his furs and rolls his naked hips into yours with deep thrusts, and though it hurts, you cannot help but pull him closer. His flesh is warm and you so cold, a dragon made flesh. His head burrows in the crux of your neck and he bites down and you love it.

He claims you over and over again until you no longer feel any sense of loneliness. He sleeps naked next to you that night in his own bed for the first time since you'd awoken here.

The Old Gods must have granted you your dream of spring before winter has even met it's end. And perhaps with your handsome stranger, you would see the sun shine on a green field once again.

comments are looked upon fondly here, so don't be a stranger :)

[ama-darav]

I came back to this hellshite to get back into writing. I haven’t really focused on doing pieces and drabbles since my car accident almost 2 years ago. My brain was hella injured and I stopped processing words and writing like I used to; things are different. I was browsing through my old writing and some of my old posts on this blog and it felt like an entirely different person wrote them? I’m definitely not. THAT PERSON anymore lolol.

Anywhozles, the first piece that I’ve done in years is this backstory piece for a DND-based text campaign. I have a pretty unique character for the setting that merges the two ideas that the DM had (a harsh environment with tribal-minimalistic survivors) and the dwarven community that lives below it. That inspired this little know-it-all sass monster named Taerel, who is a mixture of both cultures.

This piece is a backstory piece for Taerel, exploring the world where he’s from along with adding mystery and a possible exploration quest in the area. It’s a first hand witness account for a hunt. like “we know about the legend, we witnessed it. It’s there and we can do something about it or do more research into the subject” kinda deal.

Expect to see more pieces in the next couple of days because I am really gonna kick my own ass into writing. I miss my muse and I want them back.

Length: 2,750+

"You know I can't leave this hunt much longer, my love." Taerel could remember his mother speaking directly to his father. He was a child then, no older than eight or nine, and like most children he had been preoccupied. His father had carved him a wooden figurine of a Dwarven soldier, and it had been his favorite toy. However, the last time they had come to their summer cabin in the Nevinai valley, he had left the toy and had not realized it until they were many, many miles away to the south, bed up in their winter dens. Now he was reuinited with his forgotten friend, and there was many a distraction to be had. Through the haze of his blissfulness, he hadn't remembered the sharp worry in his father's voice.

"Yes. but it's too early, a'ne." Ihmer said, clearly keeping his voice even and hushed for the sake of Taerel. He rarely used his wife's language, and Taerel noted that the elven words sounded so strange out of a man with such a thick accent. Tae wouldn't learn until much later in his life that Ihmer Valtor only used his mother’s words when he was playing his final hand. In an argument, The Glacial Elf language was a pleading gesture, to really emphasize that Valtor shouldn't be waved off. And Taerel could only recall instances such as this that his father had resorted to begging.

"Nonsense, Valtor. You and the boy will be fine while I hunt. The herd only uses this pass to the north of here once. At the start of the season. If you want to eat for the rest of the said season, I need to do this. If I put it off they will all be gone, and I will have to track further out and be gone longer. Look. If you're concerned that something might happen, I'll take Kovai and leave Korai here. She'll protect you." The Elven woman said firmly.

The memory of Fel'assari brought Taerel physical pain. His mother was strikingly beautiful at nearly 7 feet in height. She was as lean as a weeping tree, her skin as pale as a freshly fallen snow. Her hair had just started to turn an ashen grey, the ends already burned black by the changing of the seasons. It was nearly spring, and Assari bore the signs in her long mane of hair.

It was one of the rare times his mother wasn't already in her gear for the day. She was in a slim pair of doeskin slacks, and a haltered cut of skin to cover her chest. Although, admittedly, there was nothing to cover as there was no meat on Fel'assari's bones at all.  He remembered the way her Tornaavas, or her story, stretched across her skin in white spidery lines. Each one of Fel'assari's people when they reached the age of ten were sat down; then the clan's story were marked across their face. It started with just the clan's history. but. Eventually as the young elf grew the clan would add the young elf’s personal stories to their body. And soon enough the elf would be able to recount their life's tales by looking at how their body had changed over the years. Taerel remembered that his mother's story was intricate, scrawled down the lengths of her arms and her back. Her stories held the detailing all of the heroic things she had done, and there was a child-like desire burning within as Taerel wanted his own stories to reflect hers.

The memory of Ihmer's sigh broke Taerel's mesmerized trance on the memory his mother. He remembered looking upon from the toy in his hands to the concerned look on his father's face. Ihmer Valtor was a stern man, with a thick red beard and a round nose like a cherry. He had grey eyes like clouds, and a bald, shiny head like a coin. Ordinarily Ihmer's face was plastered with laughs and smiles. This was usually because Taerel had said something funny [often in mimcry of said man] or being alive just brought joy to him. There was fear there, and even as young as he was, Taerel could sense it. Reluctantly, Ihmer agreed for his wife to leave them.

The rest of the day played on without event. Both Taerel and Ihmer had chores to do. The two spent the day gathering herbs and other useful materials from the surrounding hills, and scavenging enough wood to stock the smoke house rack. There was nothing out of the ordinary about that day. Just one of the many lessons that there was always something to be done during the day. And, of course, Tae had happily followed his father along to help.

It wasn't until the night had come that things became unsettling. The first event occured after the meal was over, when the night settled in and a blizzard with it. It wasn't uncommon for snow to fall in the beginnings of the growing season. Plants in Nevinter were made hardy for a reason.

The snow whipped and the winds howled in the cold and the darkness, and Taerel had finally settled against Korai for the night. Korai was always the same in Taerel's memories. His mother's two large direwolf companions never seemed to change. Out of the two sisters, Korai was more mature and experienced. She slowly took in the world and was hard to startle... while her sister Kovai was the opposite. She was a reckless one and didn't have a thought in her head. His mother had a story of how she had rescued the two young dire wolves in her youth, and now the two wolves stayed at her side like family. However, this wasn't the time to recant that tale.

The young Taerel had just nestled into a comfortable spot on Korai, a caribou skin blanket wrapped around him. He still had his soldier in his hands and he was singing to it quietly as the fire flickered in the distance. His father was sitting in a makeshift chair by the fire with a book in his hands. The fire was nearly out, and the whole room was cast into darkness. Taerel did not struggle to see in the darkness. He could see the objects in the room clearly. Although they were now devoid of color and shadows, everything was still easy to see.

Everything in the house was quiet and peaceful, save for a few crackling embers. Sleep claimed the young Taerel, and he fell asleep against Korai.

Taerel wasn't sure how long he was asleep against Korai, but he awoke to the sensation of her growling. He could feel the sound reverberating through her skin, humming through his. "Papa." Taerel cried out, clearly alarmed that Korai was growling. The dwarf in the chair stirred. He had fallen asleep where he had been sitting, his book plastered across his face. The fire had since gone out, and there was a definitive chill in the room. Taerel pulled his blankets closer to him, pulling closer to Korai. Korai adjusted the two of them, not pushing the young child off of her back just yet but getting ready to stand up and lunge if necessary.

Then the two of them heard what Korai was hearing. Someone was screaming for help. It was a dull shriek at first, a woman's voice carrying on the wind. However, with each passing moment the voice carried on closer to the cabin. The winds outside had begun to pick up, and there was a harsh groan of air  and snow against the logs of the cabin. It felt like the storm outside was challenging the cabin, daring it to fall down.

Korai's growls grew more intense as the voice got closer the cabin. The two of them could now make out what the woman was saying.

"Help me, please. You have to let me in. I'm going to freeze to death. Please. I'm dying. My hands... My hands are... " The woman was begging, hysterical with tears and pain. You could hear the sobs grow closer and closer to the door.

Ihmer did not rise from his chair, he stood watching the door with a bewildered look upon his face. Then the banging started. It was the sound of a woman, desperately clawing at the door. It groaned and shuddered in it's frame, violently shaking as the banging continued.

"Please. Let me inside. Please." The voice pleaded again, shrill and full of agony. The sobbing continued, full of tears and terror. The sound of the woman made Tae's blood run cold.

Ihmer finally rose from the chair, however. He dared not near approach the door. Instinctively, he walked over to his son and hoisted him up off of Korai. Taerel was nearly taller than his father now, but despite his height he was still very skinny. Years of being toted around by either of his parents meant he instinctively wrapped around his father, dragging the blanket around both of them to keep them from the cold.

Ihmer rose a finger to his lips, a clear indication that he wanted Taerel to remain very quiet. The two of them then sat in the middle of the cabin on the floor. Korai wrapped herself around them, resting on her haunches ready for the moment hell was going to break loose.

After almost an hour of weeping and calling out, the woman outside had stopped her efforts. There was nothing now, even though the wind ripping outside had not subsided. Ihmer dared not to move, his eyes locked on the door. Taerel could feel his father's heart racing in his chest, and the young man felt uneasy. He had never seen his father so afraid before. He for one was just grateful that the woman had finally stopped. Maybe she had died?

No sooner than Taerel had felt the relief of the quiet wash over him that something else happened. His blood turned to icewater, and he felt his heart seize in his chest. It was like a bottom falling out of a barrel as a wicked laughter filled the air outside of the cabin and seeping in. It was a shrill, inhuman sound, like metal on ice. Taerel's hair stood on end and he whimpered reflexively. It finally clicked in his mind what was going on and the worst fear he had ever felt in his life had set in. They were being visited by an Ice hag.

Taerel closed his eyes as he could feel the tears welling up at his cheeks. He leaned into his father, who reflexively pulled the small boy closer. He didn't want to remember the words, but they came piercing into his mind as sure as the screeching outside.

'Mama, why must we leave here in the winter? Why do we move around so much?'

'Because my sweet son, The Frosthell changes as the seasons do. The Valley isn't safe when the snow comes.'

'Why?'

'Well. When I was just a girl, your age. My father told me a story of a group of humans who had come to settle in this land. They stayed in our little valley. The summer was good and plentiful, but they did not know how to prepare for the winter. Before long the early snows came, and the humans were unprepared.

Many froze to death in their little huts, and many starved to death. All that was said to have survived the coming of the cold was a single woman, and she did so by eating the others. By eating the flesh of her friends, her lover, and her children she transformed into a creature of darkness and cold. The hag she had become survived the winter, but her soul was lost forever in the process.

Now It is safe to live here in the valley during the months that it doesn't snow, but if you see the signs of winter coming you best move on. During the first snows of the year, she comes out from her hiding in the valley and she checks all the settlements to see if any remain. If she were to ever suspect that someone was inside, she'll pound at the door trying to get you to let her in. If that ever happens, Taerel, put the fire out and stay very quiet like nobody is home. It is said that if she catches you inside she'll tear the house down around you and eat you. Never let her in, Taerel.'

His mother's words echoed in his heart like a dagger. He wrapped himself around his father tightly, and sat stewing in his own fear. He dared not make another sound.

The laughing outside increased as the house shook violently in the wind. The bones of the house shook around them as the ice hag continued her onslaught. They could hear scratching and tearing, the house around them taking a beating. Both father and son stayed motionless for hours on the floor, each locked in a palpable fear for their lives.

It wasn't until the first light of dawn broke through the trees that the sounds of the hag had finally subsided. The laughter faded first, receding into the deep woods not far away from their house. Then the wind let up and everything faded into an uncomfortable silence.

Ihmer moved from his spot on the ground when Korai sprung from her hiding spot and bolted to the door, pressing a paw against it. Ihmer hesitantly opened the door, letting the dire wolf out into the snow. Taerel rose from his spot on the floor, instinctively moving to his father's side. He could see hesitation in his father's movements, but he mirrored. and slowly the two of them were standing outside, staring at the cabin.

The hag had done some hefty damage. Long clawmarks had been cut through the heavy logs, oozing with red with blood and ice. The markings had continued along the exterior of the hut as the witch had tried to find a way to bust through to the inside.

The worst part of all this carnage was the front door. It was plastered with blood and ice. Clearly and distinctly, one could make out  the shape of a person hunched down against it as the snow piled around. There were clear signs of human nails scratching at the door near the bottom, but as they rose higher up you could see them progressively start to shift into something inhuman.

The defining feature was three distinct claw marks  embedded into the door, with fresh blood dripping out of them.

With a sinking feeling, Taerel guessed what they were for. Three was the number of living occupants in the house. Three was the number of people she was going to eat. His heart was broken. He didn't want to get eaten by an ice hag.

It didn't take Ihmer long to act. The two of them had spent the day gathering what they could of their things and repacking them into the sleds they used to move around. They took anything that was useful: tools, clothing, oils and things that were tradeable... but they had to leave much behind, like the furniture that Ihmer had built.

When the Sun reached it's highest point in the sky, Taerel watched his father light a final fire in their home in the Nevinai. It didn't take long for the house to catch completely ablaze.

The sight of his favorite place burning brought physical pain to Taerel. Without realizing it, the young man began to cry. Sobbing at the sight of his happiest memories going up in flames, he shook uncontrollably. It was like watching someone he loved die. All the times he spent fishing in the rivers, playing with Kovai in the trees. The meals. The stories. The games. All of it was going up in flames.

....The worst part was? Without needing to explain it, Taerel already knew why. The claw marks in the door were a curse. Every single snow the hag would return to that house, without fail. If someone else were to try and use it for shelter, they would be put at risk by his families' errors. It was the unspoken law of the Frosthell that something had to be done about it, and the simplest way to rid the world of the hag's mark was to destroy what she had marked. He hated this place now. He hated the woman that had become the hag. He hated that this was just another part of his life here in the cold.

Soon. He and his father moved on, making clear tracks to an old cabin they knew of that existed some distance outside of the valley. They would move on from this spot, never to return.

Every now and again though, the memory returns to the deepest parts of Taerel's mind on a cold night. A black reminder that the world he knew the best was ceaselessly cruel.

[carbonitekisses]

Last Chance for Honor

In which Jon breaks down after learning of his parentage, 

From a distance, dragonsong echoes eerily through the godswood trees. Jon quickens the pace and wills himself to ignore the call. He may not be a Stark but he holds no allegiance to the three-headed dragon.

Jaime arrives at Winterfell to fulfill an oath,

His horse nearly throws him off when it hears dragons screeching high above them. He uses his metal hand to try and calm his horse and grips the reins with his left. The horse is not the only one left skittish and wary; people fearfully scan the sky and seek shelter. Jaime himself tenses as he remembers the ambush in the Reach. Burn them all... She really is her father's daughter. Jaime strokes the horse’s flank to soothe him before urging him forward once more.

and Daenerys learns of Cersei’s betrayal. 

The king slayer stands in the middle of the Great Hall. He ports nondescript leathers and clothing, nary a roaring lion in sight. The only marking upon him is his golden hand—his sword was removed upon his arrival. He is vulnerable and defenseless, surrounded by both northerners and Unsullied preventing escape.

Also on AO3.

"She killed them. Daenerys killed my father and Dickon because they wouldn't bend the knee." 

"Don't say you're sorry. You didn't do it. You didn't know; I can tell that much."

"Why did you bend the knee to her?"

"And if we survive the Night King, what then?"

"Even if she ignores that the Baratheons won by right of conquest, the throne could never be hers by blood right."

"I mean that she's not the last Targaryen."

"I think you know, Jon. You're not simple. You never have been. Dragons don't let just anyone mount them."

"At the Citadel I—Gilly, really—found the High Septon's diary. And Bran confirmed it. Rhaegar and Lyanna married. And you, you're—"

"Listen, to me! Eddard Stark did it to protect you at your mother’s behest. If King Robert found out who you really were he would have killed you. Friendship with your father be damned."

"Jon, you're my brother. Snow, Targaryen, I don't care. But—"

"You can't just ignore this. Secrets like this will make themselves known."

"You believe that? That she won't care that you have a higher claim?"

"You know the Free Folk, you know the North. They'll never bend the knee to her. They might keep quiet while the dead march. But once this war is over I won't be surprised if a war between the living comes to pass."

"And if they don't bend the knee? Will she have them all executed like she did my father and brother?"

//

The memory of his father-turned-uncle is strongest here in the godswood. Jon remembers watching Ned Stark tend to Ice underneath the careful supervision of the heart tree’s weeping face.

The heart tree has never looked more heartless and cold.

Jon wishes he didn’t have a heart. His treacherous brothers should have done him the favor of cutting the pulsing muscle out of his chest. If Jon was a heartless man he would use Longclaw to tear and rip apart the bleeding face that’s watching him now. 

Instead, he unsheathes Longclaw and unleashes his anger and fear upon an ash tree. He lifts his arm back and hacks away at the tree’s trunk.

     Hit,

His father was never his father. 

     after hit,

He can't ever be a Stark. He isn't even a fucking Snow. 

    after hit, the tree takes it all without complaint.

He bedded his father's sister without knowing who she was, who he was, and–and–

Jon stops Longclaw mid swing and stares up at the cloud-filled sky. He opens his mouth to scream but instead chokes on unshed tears.

Winterfell’s bastard.

That is who he believed himself to be.

For the entirety of his life he had hoped his mother would still be alive. It did not matter if she was low or high born. And his fath–his uncle had promised to tell him. On the Kingsroad he had said—he had said—

Now, even his parting words, and where he said them, seem to mock him. 

“You are a Stark. You might not have my name but you have my blood. 

"The next time we see each other, we’ll talk about your mother. I promise.”

He drops Longclaw into the snow, uncaring of where it lands. Tired and drowning, Jon falls against the butchered tree, its mangled flesh scraping against his own. The ground lures his weight down down down until he's on his knees. 

For a second time, he mourns the loss of the man that raised him. The first was upon learning of his death. Now, upon learning he was never his father at all. He mourns the loss of a mother he will never meet. Not in this life and perhaps never in death. He mourns a father who will never compare to the man who raised him. A king who cast aside his wife, abandoned his children, and threw the seven kingdoms into the lion's den.

Sam was right; Jon knows that his lord fath–Lord Stark hid the truth to save him. He hid it under snow and in Winterfell’s crypt. Half-lies and omissions became a truth the world accepted because it was better than believing the honorable Lord Stark would lie—never minding the dishonor a bastard's existence brings. 

Jon wonders if his life was worth such trouble. 

He is the most honorable man I’ve ever known. He lied to the world, tainted his honor, and safeguarded the lie until his death to keep a promise of protection. Jon feels a sense of kinship and understanding with Eddard Stark. He might not be my father but in this we are alike.

The tree's scars run deep and jagged underneath his examining fingers. I'm a liar, too, like him. 

I compromised my honor to protect the North and all those who inhabit it. It is an uneven exchange, he knows. My honor is a paltry price to pay. 

Snow melts underneath his knees. He laughs. And laughs and laughs and cries. He's bent the knee to a tree of no consequence. He's bent the knee to a plant but never to her. He never did bend the knee to Daenerys Targaryen. Jon digs his hands through his hair and attempts to pull out the rotten memories that have taken root inside.

Wights on fire, Viserion falling. A hazy figure looming over him as he lies frozen-boned and immobile on a boat heading south. Tiny skulls littering the Dragon Pit. Hooded violet eyes following him. Dragons on a cabin door. 

Silver hair, panting breath, skin that tastes of smoke and—

Jon savagely shakes his head but the memory clings on and refuses to leave. Pleasure, the memory says, you found pleasure in your aunt. Don't deny it; you’re a Targaryen. He found pleasure in her arms and she found pleasure in his; her moans and scratching hands told him so. If he hadn’t heard of her barrenness he might’ve never done it; the possibility of bringing another bastard into the world a cruelty he refuses to commit.

Jon knew crossing the threshold into her room would bind him to her for however long she wished it. When he looked down at her, waves crashing against the hull of the ship, he saw storms of fire in her eyes—inconstant and mercurial. He saw a queen who made no efforts to rescue her allies. He saw a woman hungry for power and prophecy. He saw a conqueror ready to take flight for the Red Keep at any moment, threatening to kill thousands for a metal chair.

(Missandei had claimed her to be benevolent and just. She told him how the Dothraki and Unsullied followed Daenerys and chose her as their queen. He wondered at how such an intelligent woman didn't notice the hypocrisy in her words; Westeros never chose Daenerys and yet she waged an unnecessary war to claim a continent that had already suffered under Fire and Blood.)

And so he gave her what she wanted and desired. She wanted him to warm her bed and so he did; he fucked her and she fucked him. He believed his body would be an inconsequential thing to give; he never gave her promises of love or affection and she didn’t ask for them. Daenerys wanted him, and he needed her.  He needed her to never stray. He needed her to be truly committed to the Great War. He needed her to stay and fight, and not abandon the North like she did the Sands, Tyrells, and Greyjoys. 

He sealed the exchange with a kiss.

Jon had yielded to the idea of a future with her, if she wanted that of him. Affection, he thought, wasn't inconceivable. He would have stayed at her side for however long she desired it.  

I thought I could perhaps love her, in time. Jon rubs his face clear of frozen tears. But now? I can't continue this play. I've fallen into a trap of my own making and, he thinks of his family, possibly dragged them into it as well. The very people I've sworn to protec—

A raven caws and startles him. Jon looks above at the intruder. Its plumage is sleek and midnight black; it shows a keenness in the glint of its eyes. The black bird cocks its head to the side, and flies to perch itself on the heart tree's branches. Out of the thickness of the trees comes Ghost. He is as quiet as ever; white fur and red eyes a reflection of white bark and blood-red leaves.

"Ghost? What are you doing here, boy?"

His snout sniffs the snow around Jon, as if looking for something. Finally, he raises his head with Longclaw's grip in his jaw. The direwolf drops it before him, and urges him to take it. Once he does, Ghost walks in the direction of Winterfell only stopping when he sees that Jon isn't following him. Unsteadily, Jon braces himself against the ash tree and stands. His direwolf has never led him astray. There must be something happening in Winterfell.

The raven flies away to someplace Jon cannot see or follow. I'd almost believe it was waiting for me to leave. 

Jon sheathes Longclaw and casts one last glance towards the heart tree. Keep my secrets, tree. And guard my heart, too. The weeping face stares back. 

The ash tree weeps sap as well, but Jon pays it no mind. It has no face and therefore no mouth to betray him with.

Jon follows Ghost back to Winterfell.

As they get closer to the keep, Jon tries to cast off the dread that's climbed onto his back but finds it a futile task. Sam's whispered fear has lodged itself within his lungs and poisons him with each ebb and draw of breath:

"And if they don't bend the knee?”

He thinks of everyone who has opposed Daenerys so far. He thinks of little Lyanna Mormont. He thinks of Lord Manderly. 

He thinks of Sansa.

His cousin. His headstrong and willful...cousin; a woman he knows will never accept Daenerys as queen, especially after learning of the Tarlys; the lady of Winterfell who has held the North together during its most turbulent time; a Stark whose influence and importance Daenerys has taken notice of and mentioned to him more than once.

"Will she have them all executed like she did my father and brother?"

From a distance, dragonsong echoes eerily through the godswood trees. Jon quickens the pace and wills himself to ignore the call. He may not be a Stark but he holds no allegiance to the three-headed dragon.

Winterfell rises before him and he is Jon Snow once more.

//

Jaime’s horse nearly throws him off when it hears dragons screeching high above them. He uses his metal hand to try and calm his horse and grips the reins with his left. The horse is not the only one left skittish and wary; people fearfully scan the sky and seek shelter. Jaime himself tenses as he remembers the ambush in the Reach. Burn them all... She really is her father's daughter. Jaime strokes the horse’s flank to soothe him before urging him forward once more.

Bronn, the self-serving ass, decided to stay in Wintertown's shabby imitation of a brothel. "I'm not about to ride in with the Lannister that killed the dragon queen's father—I've seen her burn others for far less.” A dark look passed quickly before he said, “Call me a coward if you want, I don't care. Come and get me if they let you live, ey?"

And so it is that Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, rides into Winterfell alone and with no fanfare—a pitiful, though well-deserved, contrast to the last time he came. Back when he was despised for being a Kingslayer, not a Lannister. 

Perhaps Bronn had the right of it, he thinks as he’s almost immediately apprehended upon passing through the gate, even I wouldn’t ride into Winterfell with Jaime Lannister if I could help it.  

Faces with hollowed out cheeks sneer and yell out. Lannister, they curse and hiss, Kingslayer!

For these people there is no distinction between the two. Both are markers of depravity and cruelty. He refuses to lower his head in shame as he is escorted to gods-know-where. He cares not for their opinion. Judgement and a chance for honor lies elsewhere—and he is ready to face it.

//

The king slayer stands in the middle of the Great Hall. He ports nondescript leathers and clothing, nary a roaring lion in sight. The only marking upon him is his golden hand—his sword was removed upon his arrival. He is naked and defenseless, surrounded by both northerners and Unsullied preventing escape.

Daenerys presides over the hearing at the center of the head table, flanked by Jon, and Sansa Stark. Her council is present as are Bran Stark, Ser Davos, Lyanna Mormont, a northern lady, a lord from the Vale, and a lady knight. She and the north hold little love for the maimed lion. Let's see how well this lion fares.

“I see you are alone, Jaime Lannister,” she says his surname with veiled contempt. “When should we expect your sister’s armies to arrive?”

"There are no armies. There never was. I'm the only Lannister soldier you will see north of the Neck."

Daenerys remembers seeing Jamie Lannister for the first time.

This man, she had thought, this man took everything away from me when he killed my father. 

Daenerys had looked at the murderer before her and had seen him for what he was. He wasn't the extraordinary creature that prowled her nightmares when she was a little girl. His skin bore no markings of wickedness. The hair atop his head was golden and soaked in sunlight. His armor was well-crafted but held no magical qualities. He was lacking a hand of flesh but that was the extent of his uniqueness. He was an ordinary mortal man. She was almost disappointed by him.

Jamie Lannister would have fared better under disappointment.

Today, Daenerys seeks justice and retribution.

"'I will march them north to fight alongside you in the Great War': is that not what she said?" she looks to Tyrion. "Your sister pledged her forces to fight alongside us in the war against the dead." Her eyes flick away from her Hand; he resolutely refuses to look at her, preferring to stare stupidly at his brother. "I withdrew mine and marched them north because she promised to do the same."

She should have never trusted a Lannister. 

Lannisters are not lions, they are snakes hiding amongst the grass waiting to strike and sink their fangs. While Daenerys is here in this white wasteland, Cersei Lannister is reclaiming every last inch of land she had lost. All the sacrifices she has made turn to ash in her mouth at the thought of Cersei sitting calmly on the Iron Throne. I should have razed the Red Keep to the ground as soon as I landed on Westeros. Daenerys recalls how affectionately Tyrion spoke of his older brother. There was love there. Perhaps Tyrion never stopped working for the usurpers. Why should I believe there is wildfire underneath Kings Landing? He could very well be lying in order to save his family. Olenna Tyrel had the right of it. She was no rose, or lion, or wolf. She is Daenerys, mother of dragons, the last Targaryen in the world. The throne is my birthright. I've forgotten my house words: Fire and Blood. I would be queen of the seven kingdoms by now if I hadn't forgotten them.

She opens her mouth to order the Unsullied to apprehend him but Sansa Stark speaks to the right of her. "Why have you come north, Ser Jaime?"

"I'm no longer a ser, lady Sansa."

"The question still stands," Sansa Stark leans forward, "If your sister has failed to fulfill her pledge, why have you come north?"

"My sister does not control me. I cannot ignore what I saw at the Dragon Pit. And as somebody told me," here, a small smile, "This goes beyond houses. I have come to pledge myself to—"

Daenerys scoffs, "You murdered a king, my father, who you were honor-bound to protect. You have just confessed that your sister, Cersei Lannister, has broken her own oath to me. Why should I believe you? For all I know, she could have sent you to kill me. It's an efficient and tested strategy, using one Lannister man to kill a Targaryen monarch."

"Out of all the dishonorable things I have done, killing—"

Tyrion tries to silence his brother, "Jamie—" 

"Killing your father is one I do not regret." Daenerys wishes she had Drogon here to burn away the defiance in the set of his brows. Strangely, his eyes deviate from hers and land somewhere to the right of the head table. "There are others I deserve to be punished for. But I will not apologize for plunging my sword into the mad king. If I hadn't he would have leveled King's Landing with wildfire. I'll never apologize for it."

How dare he speak about my father's murder in such a callous manner? She's aware her father was not a gentle man but she is tired of being reminded of it time and time again. It is not a statement he makes but an accusation against her. She is not her father. "You should watch your tongue, Kingslayer, lest you find yourself at my dragon's mercy."

"I've witnessed your dragon's 'mercy' in the Reach. Forgive me if I'd rather face the butcher's block. "

The lord from the Vale shares a look with the Mormont girl sitting next to him. He clears his throat and asks, "Speak clearly, Lannister. What happened in the Reach?"

Tyrion finally turns to look at her and Daenerys hates him for it. She will not be shamed for standing her ground that day. It is within her right as queen to execute any and all traitors. They are all hypocrites, these Westerosi. They execute with ropes and swords. She does it with dragonfire. In the end the result is the same, one less soul in the realm of the living.

The Kingslayer glares at Tyrion before whipping around to address the table where the northern council sits. "You don't know?" His question is met with silence. "She burnt a thousand wagons—most of which contained the last harvest." He takes a step forward, " She burnt—"

Sansa Stark interrupts him and tartly asks Ser Davos how many animals her dragons have been fed since they arrived.

Daenerys knows what she is trying to do and she will not stand for it. Sansa Stark might be lady of Winterfell, but Daenerys is her queen. She snaps to the right and wets her lips, "The Targaryen forces brought their own wagons of food, Lady Sansa, in case you’ve forgotten."

"I have not, your grace. Three hundred wagons is an easy quantity to remember—and fewer than a thousand. You brought some wagons of grain but little if any livestock which is what your dragons feed on." The red-haired Stark continues facing forward, not turning to look at her. "I ask again, Ser Davos: how many animals have the dragons devoured since landing in the north?"

The Onion Knight gives Daenerys an apologetic glance before answering, "Near seventy, my lady."

She continues her questioning, asking if they have all come from the Targaryen stock. Ser Davos replies in the negative, and Daenerys turns to Jon, incensed at his sister's attempt to undermine her. She had told him to keep his sister in line. He looks just as angry as her when his eyes meet hers before softening. Daenerys is glad at least someone sees how unnecessary this conversation is. Her dragons can eat whatever they want; without them the north will fall. 

"Lady Sansa," Jaime Lannister says her name with urgency and takes a step towards the head table; Daenerys appreciates how Jon reflexively places his hand on Longclaw to protect her. "Burnt bushels should be the least of your worries. The woman sitting next to you burnt my men alive after they defeated the Tyrell army in Highgarden. Her and the Dothraki ambushed us as we were transporting the harvest back to the capital. The woman you have all proclaimed queen burnt Randyl Tarly and Dickon Tarly alive after they refused to bend the knee. Just like Aerys Targaryen did to your grandfather and uncle, she murdered a father and son."

Silence reigns in the Great Hall. She hears Jon's leather gloves tighten around his chair's armrests. 

"I am not my father." She will defend herself if no one else will. "I let them choose. And they chose to die."

She hates Jaime Lannister and rues the day she offered Tyrion Lannister the golden pin that rests upon his doublet. Who is this oathbreaker to condemn her for handing out justice in her own kingdom? "It is within my right as queen to execute traitors. I now offer you the same choice, Kingslayer. Bend the knee to me or refuse and die."

"His life is not yours to take, Daenerys Targaryen," a whisper denies her from the right of Sansa Stark. "His life is not yet forfeit."

Bran Stark unnerves her. He knew about her brother and how he died. He knew about Viserion. The youngest Stark speaks truths and secrets as easily as others drink wine. If it were any other to interrupt her...Daenerys notices even Sansa Stark seems surprised by her brother's claim.

"Jaime Lannister pushed me out of the broken tower. He is the one that crippled me. His life belongs to House Stark."

The monster in front of her hangs his head in shame. The hall erupts with noise. Daenerys hears Jon speak for the first time, "You fucking—"

The crippled boy raises his voice, "It doesn't matter; we don't have time for this." The Great Hall falls into a tense silence ready to break at any moment. "Jaime Lannister, step forward and join oathkeeper. Fulfill the oath you swore—" he pauses, and beckons the lady knight. She stands with both her sword and the Kingslayer's "—here is your last chance for honor." 

The Kingslayer is taken aback by Bran Stark's words. Here is your last chance for honor?��What does he intend to do? Nonetheless, after taking his sword from the lady knight, he bends the knee in front of the head table and lays the sword on the floor. It is only right, she thinks, after what he did to her father. There is a sense of vindication, having the Kingslayer at her feet.

"I offer you my services, Lady Stark." Daenerys' jaw tightens. "I will shield your back and keep your counsel and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new."

Sansa Stark confidently stands, her voice cloyingly innocent, "And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth and meat and mead at my table. And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor." Jaime Lannister lifts his head and looks at Sansa as if she were his salvation. Daenerys tastes blood. "I swear it by the old gods and the new. Arise."

The traitor and murderer rises, now cloaked under the protection of House Stark—no, of Sansa Stark. 

Daenerys has been robbed of justice. She has been denied retribution.

Yes, Olenna Tyrell was right. She is a dragon and she is tired of listening to clever men with clever plans that never work in her favor. 

I will take what is mine with Fire and Blood.

[liesandarbor]

Meera is going to wield Dark Sister *at least once,* and become the vehicle to move it to Arya.

Six years ago in King's Landing, Dunk had seen him with his own two eyes, as he rode a pale horse up the Street of Steel with fifty Raven's Teeth behind him. That was before King Aerys had ascended to the Iron Throne and made him the Hand, but even so he cut a striking figure, garbed in smoke and scarlet with Dark Sister on his hip. His pallid skin and bone-white hair made him look a living corpse. The Sworn Sword

Last night, @buskerlenny​ had an opportunity to ask GRRM a question at Worldcon, and boy, did she deliver for us: George confirmed that Bloodraven took the Valyrian longsword Dark Sister with him to the wall.  

There was no ‘keep reading’, no ‘you never know’, but a simple yes.  Those three letters opened up a whirlwind of ideas and questions.  Is it now in the cave?  Who will wield it? Why did he take it North?   

Dark Sister possibly showing up in the Winds of Winter means more than the eye thinks - it supports the idea that Valyrian steel is coming even more to the forefront as Winter Comes in TWOW (see: Euron’s Armor).

So yes, it makes logical sense that one of the very few things that can defeat Others - Dragon Steel - happens to be in a cave North of the wall, where one of our heroes is currently wearing tree bondage and pretty much surrounded by snow zombies.

But I’m not here to worry about Brandon Stark.  Bran’s Last Hero journey is, for the moment, surrounded by three protectors - and as Bran more than likely loses two of those protectors in TWOW (Hodor, Jojen), we can expect to see Dark Sister wielded by the end of the book.

I might also add that Visenya is the most likely of the two to garb herself as a warrior, and when so garbed, she would wield the Valyrian longsword Dark Sister, whose slender blade is designed for a woman's hand. GRRM

The many speculations about who’s hands Dark Sister will be equipped in generally circle in on one person, which is Arya Stark.  And of course, Arya is a perfect candidate for Dark Sister.  Visenya Targaryen, the warrior sister-wife-Queen of Aegon I Targaryen (not to be confused with her poetry, art-loving sister-wife-Queen, Rhaenys), serves as a great indicator for Arya’s ownership of  (yes, we get it, it’s a Jon/Sansa/Arya parallel).  It’s definitely an upgrade from Needle, Arya’s “childhood” sword, and a real-deal-Valyrian-sword; the perfect transition for Arya into “womanhood”.

This is all fine and dandy, but Dark Sister is currently sitting in a cave that will be overcome with ice creatures at some point, and for Arya to own Dark Sister, it’s going to have to come South.  And who else could possibly be the perfect vehicle for that sword than the exhausted, ferociously loyal young girl helping to drag the Last Hero around, watching her brother slowly die North of the wall?

"He wants to go home," Meera told Bran. "He will not even try and fight his fate. He says the greendreams do not lie."

"He's being brave," said Bran. The only time a man can be brave is when he is afraid, his father had told him once, long ago, on the day they found the direwolf pups in the summer snows. He still remembered.

"He's being stupid," Meera said. "I'd hoped that when we found your three-eyed crow … now I wonder why we ever came.”

For me, Bran thought. "His greendreams," he said. "His greendreams." Meera's voice was bitter.  "Hodor," said Hodor. Meera began to cry.

Bran hated being crippled then. "Don't cry," he said. [...] The floor was rough and uneven, and it would be slow going, full of scrapes and bumps. I could put on Hodor' s skin, he thought. Hodor could hold her and pat her on the back. The thought made Bran feel strange, but he was still thinking it when Meera bolted from the fire, back out into the darkness of the tunnels. He heard her steps recede until there was nothing but the voices of the singers.  Bran III, ADWD

With Meera’s emotional state - and brother’s life - on the decline, we should see her fulfilling the Dark Sister role for a while indeed.   Not only emotionally, but physically, too.  Meera Reed is already known for her skill with a slender, long frog spear.

Meera moved in a wary circle, her net dangling loose in her left hand, the slender three-pronged frog spear poised in her right. Summer followed her with his golden eyes, turning, his tail held stiff and tall. Watching, watching . . ."Yai!" the girl shouted, the spear darting out. Bran IV, ACOK

But with Mikken slain and the ironmen guarding the armory, good steel had been hard to resist, even if it meant grave-robbing. Meera had claimed Lord Rickard's blade, though she complained that it was too heavy. Bran VII, ACOK 

Meera notably finds carrying the heavy sword that had been Lord Rickard Stark’s, made for a grown adult male, difficult, but Dark Sister may be the perfect answer for her to fend off Wights as they travel South.  And Meera more than has the ferocity to wield it.

 "I dreamed of the man who came today, the one they call Reek. You and your brother lay dead at his feet, and he was skinning off your faces with a long red blade."Meera rose to her feet. "If I went to the dungeon, I could drive a spear right through his heart. How could he murder Bran if he was dead?"  Bran V, ACOK

Bran backed away, bleeding, and Meera Reed was there, driving her frog spear deep into the wight's back. "Hodor," Bran roared again, waving her uphill. "Hodor, hodor." Jojen was twisting feebly where she'd laid him down. Bran went to him, dropped the longsword, gathered the boy into Hodor's arm, and lurched back to his feet. "HODOR!" he bellowed. Meera led the way back up the hill, jabbing at the wights when they came near. Bran II, ADWD

Transporting the Last Hero home is a hard job - and while some believe Bran, an incredibly important POV in ASOIAF, will be stuck in a cave forever sitting in this said cave having visions, eating blood sacrifices, maybe skinchanging a dragon once and that’s the end of his story, I know this sounds ridiculous to me too, please let’s get real, he’s going to leave the cave if his arc is going to continue  , I tend to err that this is one thing that show may have gotten right.  The ingredients are there - a cave surrounded by nothing but snow zombies and mythical, fantastical and dying out creatures in the middle of nowhere. It doesn’t exactly scream forever a safe haven.  That cave exists because it is going to get fucked the hell up, my friends.  Especially when you consider Bran’s role as a hero... if his companions die, his dog dies, and their other swords break in the cold.

So, what a perfect moment that will be.  Ice zombies trickling up and down the halls, Meera’s frogspear breaks, Hodor sacrifices himself, maybe Summer even falls to Winter... and just when all is about to be lost, out emerges Dark Sister, and Meera’s hands grip the pommel of that skinny, gleaming blade, slashing it down Wights, and protecting Brandon Stark. 

Jojen was so solemn that Old Nan called him "little grandfather," but Meera reminded Bran of his sister Arya. She wasn't scared to get dirty, and she could run and fight and throw as good as a boy. She was older than Arya, though; almost sixteen, a woman grown. They were both older than Bran, even though his ninth name day had finally come and gone, but they never treated him like a child.  Bran IV, ACOK

Bran sees Arya in Meera on more than one occasion, and for good reason.  Both are empathetic, and skilled with their choice of weapon.  The likened traits he sees in the girls are a product of a little boy’s yearning to be reunited with his family, but also deliberate.  Arya and Meera definitely have a lot in common.  This makes the passage of Dark Sister from Meera’s hand to Arya’s smooth.  

While Meera is strong and skilled, Dark Sister won’t be forever hers. Why? She just won’t want it. In fact, it won’t surprise me if she won’t want this lifestyle in any capacity any longer. She’ll return Bran South of the Wall, and eventually return home (possibly with her brother’s bones), tired, defeated, and ready to mourn.  And her family probably won’t hold it against her - protecting Stark children is a hard job, and sometimes it’s near impossible; just ask Howland Reed.

BONUS, SHINY TINFOIL (that will never happen, and I’ve made my peace with this):

While Meera may not hang on to Dark Sister for more than a moon’s turn, wouldn’t it be neat if her basically-canonical-parentage-according-to-me, Ashara Dayne and Howland Reed, granted her more than Dark Sister, and wielding the Valyrian sword only lended her to embrace her proto-Valyrian bloodline, and she emerged the god damn Sword of the Morning, brandishing Dawn through delicately spun White Walker bones? OKAY, COOL, GLAD WE’RE ALL ON THE SAME PAGE, MEERA REED IS NOW THE SWORD OF THE MORNING.

[tinywriter2018]

For the Good of the Realm Part II

Word Count: 1424

Jon was sitting in the the Godwoods next to the stump that used to be a weirwood tree.  Like his mother’s family, he preferred the old God’s to the new, though as a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms he was expected to show faith in the New.  This place for him was his solace, he enjoyed the serenity he felt when he was here.  A small direwolf was sleeping on top of his boot.  The white fur moving up and down as he was in deep sleep.  The Starks had brought their Direwolves pups that they had found down south with them.  They had found the runt of the litter, and it was the youngest Stark girl who pointed out, that Jon was technically also a Stark, if only half by his mother.

“I was told I would find you here.”  Jon turned his head to see Lord Stark.  Jon stood up, but his pup did not stir.  Jon had a feeling he was ignoring the world, something he wish he could do.  

“My Lord.”  he gave a slight bow in his head, but Ned shook his own.  

“You are my family.”  Ned came and sat next to him on the stones.  He looked around at the surroundings.  “You should see the Godwoods back in Winterfell. Untouched by man, it’s brilliant and beautiful, even when it snows, the woods are peaceful.”  

“I would very much like to see.”  

“I’ve asked the King if he would be leave of you to travel with us so you can see the North that my

daughter comes from.  That your mother came from.”  Jon reached down, picking up the direwolf.  

“What was she like?  The Queen doesn’t know much and my father never speaks of her.”  

“She was fierce like the north.  She could out ride us all on the horse.  Lyanna was strong as she was beautiful.”  

“She died when I was born.”  Jon looked at the stump.  

“I was there.”  Jon looked at his Uncle surprised.  “She was a fighter till the end.  Your father had snuck into the encampment to find my tent the night before the battle.  He told me everything, brought me to my sister.  By the time the battle of the Trident was to take place, Jaime Lannister had already killed Aerys and my sister was lost to us.  There was no reason to continue on with the fighting.  Robert knew that, once I joined Rhaegar on the field.”

“Robert loved my mother?”

“He said he did, but I think he just felt like he lost the one thing he was always supposed to have.”  Ned placed a hand on Jon’s shoulder.  “In time, the wounds healed and life went on.”

“I’m afraid some wounds last longer than the should.”  

“You have the Stark honor in you.”  Jon smiled, looking at the direwolf.  The red eyes blinking open, to see what was happening.  

“I am trying to do right by her.”  

“Sansa is a tricky child.  She has more North in her than I think anyone believes.”  Ned stood up, looking out at the ocean.  “You and I have something in common, other than our blood.”

“How so?”  

“I was never supposed to marry Catelyn.  My brother Brandon was her betrothed.  But once the Mad King killed my brother, our marriage was arranged for the war to come.  Love wasn’t the foundation of our marriage, but it is there now.  I love my wife with everything in me.  As I know she does me as well.  Having your first born brings you closer together.”  Jon nodded, standing up next to his uncle.  The conversation quickly turned to other matters, as they walked back up to the Red Keep.  

Jon followed ghost down once more to the Godswoods.  His mind wandering to the journey before them.  His father had informed him of his brother’s soon return to King's Landing and for the sake of his wife, the northerners and their pride, Jon agreed to leave King's Landing to return to the north, to Winterfell, in order to spare any harm.  Jon has always wanted to go north, see his mother’s maiden home, but he never wanted to go under these circumstances.  He ran into Ghost who had stopped walking.  The white direwolf, laid down, his red eyes looking at the female direwolf in front of him.  Jon knew the direwolf, it was his lady wifes.  Sansa sat still looking out at the ocean.  Jon slowly began to walk towards her, taking a seat next to her.  

“We are to leave?”  She asked, but her tone meant she knew what he was going to say.  

“Tomorrow, after the morning meal.”   

“Aegon is returning isn’t he?”

“He is.”  Jon wished he could lie to her, but he couldn’t.  Ever since he was a child, he could never lie to a woman.  Queen Elia said it would make him a great knight.  They sat in silence for a while, the sound of their direwolves lightly playing. Mostly Ghost seemingly trying to impress Lady, but she remained unmoving.  

“All I wanted when I was young was to marry Aegon, give him little princes and princesses and be his queen.  Be there for him.”  

“All I wanted was to be the Lord Commander of the King’s guard, protect him from harm, protect my family.”  Sansa gave a soft smile.  

“Aegon hurt us both.”  Sansa looked at Jon for the first time since he sat down. 

“In truth, I’ve always wanted a marriage like the one my parents have.  One of trust and love.  I thought Aegon was the way to that dream, but he isn’t anymore.”  Sansa paused, her eyes darting to her hands, her hair falling in front of her face.  “Do you think you could love me?”  Jon gave a soft smile, his eyes finding hers.  

“I think I could.”  Jon moved a piece of hair behind her head.  “Do you think you could forget him, in your heart?”  

“I’ve already started.”  Sansa smiled at her lord husband, the setting sun, casting a beautiful light over his strong features.  She could learn to love that face, for the rest of her days and she knew it.

“Keep your shield up.”  Jon said said to Rickon Stark.  He nodded, the boy was coming into his own as a young man.  Rickon was a wild fighter, but one that learns quickly.  Lord Eddard Stark watched with his own son, Robb Stark from the side.  

“He’s still a skilled fighter even after all this time.”  It had been twenty-six moons turns since Jon came north with the Starks.  Taking up the Master of Arms position until they could find a replacement, since they had lost theirs on the travel home.  

“He's a good teacher and a good fighter.”  They were all laughing as Rickon suddenly stumbled in the mud, his laugh echoing throughout the courtyard.  Suddenly Ghost appeared, his bark shattering the peace.  Ghost was not prone to bark, at all unless it was of dire trouble.  

“Wasn’t he with Sansa and Mother?”  Robb asked Jon.  All four men quickly followed the white blur into the Godswoods, where Sansa was clutching her stomach.  Her mother trying to calm her.  Lady was sitting patiently next to her, trying to give her comfort.  

“We need a maester!” Catelyn yelled, her smile wide.  

“It hurts!” Sansa screamed.  Jon rushed over to her, quickly picking her up.  

“Don’t just stand there!  The Baby is coming!  Jon we need to get her inside.”  Catelyn quickly took control as Rickon ran back to the castle walls to call maester Luwin.  

“Mother!”  She yelled gripping her hand.  

“Don’t worry, it will be over soon!”  Her mother was so happy, Robb helped Jon carry her back inside.  

“Jon!”

“I’m here wife.”  She pulled on the back of his hair, her strength stronger than he thought.  

“Don’t leave.”  He smiled, helping her to the closest bed.  

“It’s not proper for the father to be-”   Robb started, before Sansa hit him.  Lady growled from the corner, her direwolf freighting him.  

“Than you get out!”  She let out another scream gripping Jon’s hand tightly.  She looked at him, scared.  “It hurts, it hurts so much.”  

“I know, you're doing great!”  Jon stated.  Catelyn joined her on her other side, brushing her daughter’s hair out of her sweat covered face.   

“Your going to be a mother soon.”  Sansa began to cry through the pain.  She turned to Jon, her smile big.

“I love you husband.”  She whispered.  

“I love you wife.”    

Masterlist 

[maddie-grove]

The Stark Romance Saga--Book #4: The Maiden of the Riverlands

Previous Installments: Loved I Not Honor More (Book #1, Robb Stark/Jeyne Westerling), The Iron Scoundrel (Book #2, Theon Greyjoy/Asha “Not His Sister in This Universe” Harlaw), Kissing the Kingslayer (Book #2.5, Catelyn Stark/Jaime Lannister), A Fire in Winter (Book #3, Jon Snow/Ygritte), and The Winter Bride (Book #3.5, Samwell Tarly/Gilly).

Note: This installment takes place roughly four years after the end of Sam’s book, which takes place about a year after the end of Jon’s book. Westeros is making progress, albeit slow, in its war against the White Walkers, and there has been a rather cool, brief spring and summer in the meantime. Queen Daenerys is on the throne, although she’s reached a Dornish compromise with the North, making it a principality. Dany’s doing a fine job on the whole, although she’s met with some difficulties, and has a reputation as a fair and kind ruler despite the whole dragon thing.

Other Note: I made Lord Londrew Frey up, because I have no idea which Frey would inherit the Twins after the foiled Red Wedding in Robb’s book. My other thought was making it Big Walder Frey; however, I have a soft spot for that little guy. He may be disturbingly casual about cousin-murder, but he has standards!

The Style

Sweet, drama-filled, and slightly off-kilter 1990s Patricia Gaffney or Susan Wiggs.

The Leads

Nymeria of High Heart (Nan for short), 20 years old, a folk heroine of the Riverlands. With her sword-fighting skills and the help of her direwolf, Sharra, she defends the poor, the weak, and the unprotected from unscrupulous outlaws and cruel lords alike. Dwells in a makeshift cottage near High Heart with only Sharra for company, living partly off the land and partly off the gifts of thankful Riverlanders. Has many friends, including the Brotherhood without Banners, but won’t get too close to anyone. Can’t remember anything before she was fourteen and found herself on the back of a wagon to Castle Black, disguised as a boy. It hurts too much to think about that time, so she’s resolved not to wonder about her past. Really, of course, ARYA STARK.

Gendry, 25 years old, a blacksmith at the inn-turned-orphanage at the crossroads and a member of the Brotherhood without Banners. Less angry than his canon counterpart due to improved circumstances, but still grumpy. An orphan from King’s Landing, he was apprenticed to a blacksmith who abruptly packed him off to join the Night’s Watch. Upset by his master’s rejection and embittered by the atrocities he witnessed in the Riverlands, he found a sense of belonging with the Brotherhood and with the kids who frequently mob him at work. Lately, though, he’s beginning to wonder if he should want more from life. Good friends with Nan, who survived the war alongside him and saved his life a couple of times. 

The Prologue

Shortly after her escape from Sandor Clegane and return to the Brotherhood, an exhausted fifteen-year-old Nan wanders away from the group and has a full-fledged emotional breakdown on a riverbank over everything she’s been through. She only stops crying when a gigantic direwolf approaches her. Instead of eating her, the beast licks her tears away and demands to be petted. Feeling better than she has in a long time, Nan takes the direwolf back to the camp and informs the wary Brotherhood that this is Sharra, named after a witch queen from a song. That night, she dreams about a family in a castle surrounded by snow.

The Set-Up

The Brotherhood without Banners and the Heddle sisters get together and throw a very merry harvest party at the inn at the crossroads. Gendry only goes because he lives there, but is pleasantly surprised to see Nan dancing with an extremely drunk Thoros of Myr. She’s been making herself scarce lately and, while he won’t admit it in so many words, he’s missed her. As they banter, dance, and drink a bit of cider, he also realizes that he’s attracted to her. He resolves to mash down his feelings--she obviously views him as an overbearing older brother and couldn’t possibly be interested--until she calls all his assumptions into question by saying something like, “Yo, nice ass, Gendry.” Long story short, they end up having awesome sex. The next morning, she bids him a cheerful but glib adieu before running back to High Heart, leaving him to wonder if he irrevocably ruined their friendship.

The two don’t speak again until a week later, when Gendry visits Nan’s cottage with news of an interesting matter: Lord Londrew Frey has been cheating his smallfolk by giving them almost no share of the grain that they harvest. Londrew claims that he’s sending the grain to the Night’s Watch to help the war effort, but there’s evidence that he’s selling it overseas instead. Nan agrees to help, although she’s not sure how to do it; she can steal from the Twins and exchange the loot for food for the smallfolk, but that’s only a short-term solution. 

The conversation trails off, and Gendry finally reveals the other reason he came to see her: he wants to talk about That Night and What It Means. He’s halting and awkward. They’ve been friends for a long time, he says, so of course he cares about, um, what happens to her. He knows she never...you know...and what if there’s a child, Nan? He never thought about marrying, but, well... (He doesn’t say that he’s never thought about anything beyond the next task, next meal and next catastrophe until recently, and now he’s not sure how to do it.)

Nan angrily rebuffs him. (She doesn’t say how much she cares about him, how often she thinks about that night, or how badly she longs for a real family. Even if he felt more than friendship and duty, she would lose him eventually, and she can’t stand to lose anyone else.) Stung, Gendry rants about her decision to live all alone in a pile of sticks like a crazy old woods witch. Eventually the rant becomes less “insulting” and more “seriously, are you sleeping at all?” Nan admits that she’s been dreaming more and more about the war and a strange Northern family, one of whom looks like her. In his taciturn way, Gendry expresses sympathy. They watch Sharra play among the weirwood stumps for a while, and then Nan’s face lights up.

“You know,” she says, “someone once thought I looked like a Stark girl.”

The Middle

After an obligatory “wait, WHAT” from Gendry, the two journey to Acorn Hall to get some help from Lady Smallwood, a longtime ally of the Brotherhood. They run into some heartwarming hijinks along the way, mostly brought on by the fact that Nan is beloved by every farmer, prostitute, and orphan in the Riverlands, while Gendry has one of those vibes that make little kids demand that he give them a ride on his shoulders or look at a cool rock they found. Lady Smallwood is pleased to see them and embarrasses Nan by reminiscing about when she was just a wee lass. She grows grave, though, once Nan’s dressed up as a lady in her daughter’s old clothes.

“You do have the Stark look, come to think,” she says. Nan repeats what she now tells everyone, including herself--she comes from King’s Landing and never knew her family--but her dreams are even more vivid that night.

The next day, Nan and Gendry head for the Twins, “disguised” as Arya Stark and her sworn sword. They flirt on the way, despite her determination to keep her distance and his to not renew the sentiments she found so disgusting. Once they arrive at their destination, the Frey household scoffs at Nan’s imperious claims that she is the lost Arya and, by the way, Lord Londrew better stop his peasant-cheating bullshit. Then several older Frey cousins remark that she is the very picture of Lady Lyanna Stark at the Tourney at Harrenhal, causing Lord Londrew turns courteous and welcome her to his home. (Nobody remarks on Nan’s direwolf, as she left Sharra to roam in the woods; she’ll risk her own life, but not her big pup’s.) Nan grandly agrees, even as Gendry grumbles through his teeth that they’re either planning to kill her for being the false Arya or being the real one.

They argue more after she’s shown to her chambers. He reminds her of the famous aborted Red Wedding; she reminds her that they’re both armed to the teeth and smarter than any Frey, plus she thinks they can find proof of Londrew’s dirty dealings to send to Lord Edmure Tully. Their argument “devolves” into some sexy lady/sworn sword roleplay.

Later that night, they’re both shocked when the Freys take Gendry captive (with some difficulty, of course). He has all the markings of a Robert Baratheon bastard, and Londrew thinks he can use him to cause trouble for Queen Daenerys in a Blackfyre Rebellion kind of way. Londrew locks him in a dungeon and Nan in her room. He reveals that he knows who Nan is: an outlaw who comes from nowhere and belongs to no one. He further taunts her with his intention to create false hope for the Starks and Tullys by informing them of “Arya’s” survival, and hopes out loud that they kill Nan out of anger when they learn the “truth.”

Gendry has a dark night of the soul. Spurred by his resentment at being abandoned by his father and used as a pawn by the Freys, he realizes that he isn’t helping himself or anyone else by merely existing in the Riverlands. Whether or not he ends up with Nan or does something with his discovery of his parentage, he has to take charge of his life by going to see Queen Daenerys himself...but first he has to survive this ordeal with the Freys.

Luckily, Nan has already made her escape, thanks to a combination of technical skills and the goodwill of several Freys who are downtrodden or too loyal to Roslin Frey to fuck with her husband’s family’s emotions like that. She springs Gendry from the dungeon; he helps in this endeavor by promising to put in a good word for them with the queen. Reunited, they flee into the night. Gendry tells her that he wants to marry her, whether Daenerys recognizes him as her cousin or not. Nan says she’ll marry him when he comes back; she privately believes he’ll change his mind if his status improves, but almost losing him to the Freys has taught her that refusing to care about him hurts more than letting herself love him. They make love one last time before parting ways, he for King’s Landing and she for Riverrun.

The Conclusion

Nan reaches Riverrun and begs an audience with Lord Edmure Tully, who accepts her request. As a lord who takes his obligations to his vassals seriously, he can appreciate her defense of the smallfolk despite her worrying outlaw status. Once he sees her, though, he’s bowled over by her resemblance to Brandon, Ned, Lyanna, and Benjen (plus the wolf), despite having reservations thanks to Catelyn’s harrowing experience with the false Aryas. Yet his reaction is nothing to Nan’s. Edmure’s Tully look brings back memories of Catelyn, Robb, Sansa, Bran, and Rickon. Then she remembers Ned and Jon, the only ones who looked like her. And everything else comes back when she remembers Jon: Needle, Bran’s accident, the journey to King’s Landing, her terrible final fight with Sansa, her father’s death. Edmure and Roslin take pity on the disheveled young woman sobbing in their hall, and give her a bed and some ale before gently trying to sort everything out.

Meanwhile, Gendry arrives in King’s Landing. He visits Tobho Mott, now an old man, and learns that he was sent away for his own protection at Ned Stark’s command, not outright abandoned. Then he goes to Daenerys’s throne room to wait in line with the general population, When the time comes, he publicly announces who he is and pledges his loyalty, telling her bluntly that he’d rather go ahead and get eaten by her dragons than be endlessly used as a pawn and start another war like the one he lived through.

“Okay, respect,” Daenerys says, enjoying both the anti-oppression message and the drama. She has him taken to a more private chamber and, after find out his whole deal from Varys, meets with him. She reveals that she used to want to Kill All Baratheons, but then she realized that her family’s downfall was more nuanced than she’d been led to believe, plus it didn’t take her long to love her cousins Shireen Baratheon and Mya Stone. She’s happy to find another cousin, having known very little of family, and his loyalty means a great deal to her. Seriously, he can name the region and she’ll find him a castle or at least some unclaimed land. Does he want a title? A last name?

“Um,” says Gendry, utterly overwhelmed. “Is there anything near High Heart?”

At the same time, Nan/Arya has recovered enough from her shock to be merely completely wigged out. She doesn’t know if she can handle being Arya--she can barely handle being Nan--or if her family will even want the wild, haunted outlaw she’s become. And will Gendry want her as Arya Stark? Unsure what to do, she sneaks out of Riverrun, grabs Sharra/her namesake Nymeria, and rides like hell to High Heart.

Several days later, Gendry arrives at Riverrun, which is in an utter uproar. Edmure and Roslin are frantic about having possibly lost the real Arya; Brynden Tully is trying to get everyone to calm down so the fallout won’t be too bad when they find out she’s a fake; Jaime Lannister is lounging decadently around the great hall and grousing about how well the supposed Real Arya hid herself from him; and, most important, Jon Snow and Sansa Stark are there, tense and worried.

“Wait,” says Gendry, “you’re telling me the Freys got something right for once?”

There’s another uproar when everybody realizes that this is the newly acknowledged Baratheon bastard, cousin to the queen, and that he’s been traveling alone with the Lost Arya. 

(“You better be prepared to marry her,” threatens Edmure. 

“Why?” Jaime asks. “She can do better.”)

Eventually, Jon and Sansa manage to speak to Gendry alone. They tell him how desperately they want Arya back, and how afraid they are that this won’t be her. Nobody’s even told Catelyn about this latest hope, because it will be too hard on her. They describe what Arya was like as a kid. Jon tells him how close they were; he’s missed her every day of his life since he went to the Wall. Sansa talks about how annoyed she used to get with Arya back then, and how stupid it all seems now; she’d give anything to see her sister’s messy hair and muddy face again. They’re both worried that, even if this is the real Arya, she won’t want to come back after so much time. But they would let her go, if that would make her happy.

With a sinking feeling, Gendry knows that the girl from their stories can’t be anyone but Nan. He also knows that a Stark lady is too highborn to marry a bastard, even an acknowledged one with royal connections. Still, he can’t keep the truth from her.

“That sounds like Nan,” he tells them. “Follow me. I’ll talk to her first.”

So they all head up to High Heart, where Nan/Arya has resumed her solitary existence. Sharra/Nymeria bounds out immediately and aggressively licks Jon and Sansa before going off to roughhouse with Ghost. Nan/Arya, though, refuses to come out of her hut; however, she reluctantly lets Gendry come inside. He tells her that she can be Nan or Arya or anyone else--she’ll be great no matter who she is, and he’ll love her. They can live in the woods or at the Inn with the orphans or in the castle the queen promised him. Or, if her family doesn’t mind, in Winterfell. Because they love her, too.

“How can they?” Arya demands. “You know what I’ve done, what I am. I was never what they wanted, and now? I’m an outlaw, and a killer, and I’m no one at all.”

At which point Sansa sweeps majestically into the hut, with Jon at her heels.

“You’re not no one,” she tells Arya. “You’re Arya Stark. My sister. And if I didn’t want you, it was because I didn’t know what it would be like to lose you.”

"And you’re a champion of the Riverlands, from what we hear,” says Jon. “Do you remember the sword I gave you?”

“Needle,” says Arya. 

Soon all three siblings are crying and hugging and, when Gendry tries to absent himself, Arya pulls him into the embrace.

“This is Gendry,” she tells her siblings. “He’s coming with us to Winterfell.”

The Epilogue

Arya, Gendry, Jon, and Sansa arrive at Winterfell, Ghost and Nymeria on their heels. Arya wonders aloud if she can find a way to be a lady and still be herself. “Probably,” says Gendry, “but you don’t have to be a lady to be Arya.” The conversation turns to how he’ll adjust to his life as the queen’s acknowledged cousin, including whether he’ll give himself a last name. Arya teases him about becoming “Gendry Stark,” but he says that sounds just fine to him, and she sees his point.

Finally, they get to Winterfell, and almost everyone is there: Robb, Bran, Rickon, Theon, Old Nan, Hodor, Maester Luwin, Princess Jeyne, Ygritte, and a passel of new nieces and nephews. And, of course, Catelyn, who practically falls on her long-lost daughter. They show her the place they’ve set for her at the table all these years, and she sits down with her family.

Subplots 

Twenty-two-year-old Sansa begins to feel restless after a few much-needed years of safety and stability with her family. Catelyn and Robb are both overprotective of her after her ordeal in King’s Landing, encouraging her to delay considering marriage for a few more years and getting nervous if she ventures outside the castle walls. She’s secretly fearful of the outside world herself, but she still wants to do something with her life. So she starts up a correspondence with her old friend/flirt Margaery Tyrell, who shares some highly interesting news about King’s Landing

Nineteen-year-old Bran similarly feels stifled by his well-meaning family, who tend to treat him as a child to some degree despite his physical/emotional maturity and the Very Real Psychic Shit he’s dealing with. (He and Sansa joke about it sometimes.) The arrival of Meera and Jojen Reed, two siblings around his age who know what he’s dealing with and are generally cool, make life a little easier to deal with. 

After a years-long exile as Queen Daenerys’s ambassador in Pentos, Tyrion Lannister returns to King’s Landing to be Hand of the King. He has a fearsome reputation as a killer, only partially earned, and a WHOLE lot of unresolved trauma. When Petyr Baelish approaches him with a crass offer to go into the brothel business together, Tyrion begins to suspect that something more sinister is afoot. Also, he’s not sure if Sandor Clegane wants to kill him or just really likes glaring at people. 

[ladyninjaa]

Comfort Pt 2

Imagine: Being Tormund’s daughter and having a crush on Sansa. (Comfort Part 2)

part one

The bruises on Sansa’s face were beginning to fade. The Stark wasn’t used to Castle Black and its inhabitants—the men who like to stare at a woman. Some were dumb enough to come near her but it was always you scaring them off. It was either you or that big woman whom your father was in love with.

Jon was happy that Sansa had built a solid friendship with you. It lessened his worries about Sansa. It was you who he entrusted to take Sansa to the Weirwood tree along with Podrick and Brienne. Your father was disappointed that the big woman wouldn’t return his affections.

“Do you believe in any Gods?” Sansa asked you while riding towards the Weirwood.

Podrick and Brienne were behind the both of you. Brienne was being ever alert and keeping a sharp eye over the landscape. Podrick was watching everything with awed eyes. You weren’t sure why because everything looked the damn same—snow, trees, and the occasional winter critter passing by.

“No I don’t,” You remarked casually and ignore her wide-eyed look, “Some of the free-folk do worship some sort of God but my father was never the type to worship what he couldn’t see or kill.” You mused with humor.

Sansa giggled at your crude humor.

“I’ve heard of many Gods since I’ve been on this side of the Wall and they all sound the bloody same,” You remarked with a shrug, “The Old Gods which is favored by the North. The New Gods that are favored by the South. There’s that Lord of Light or whatever worshipped by that woman who wears only red.” You frown, “No God would allow such cruel things to happen…perhaps there once was a God but he left this place a long time ago when he saw how cruel his creations were.” You mumbled the last part mostly to yourself.

“You are rather odd from the rest of the wildlings,” Brienne spoke up looking at you curiously, “You read and think differently. It’s curious.”

You smile slightly, “My father says I get it from my mother. Father never talks about her…but sometimes I think she came from this side of the wall although my father denies it.” You are certain that your mother did come from this side of the wall…whatever made her change sides were beyond you.

“How did she die, if I may ask?” Sansa asked softly.

“She died shortly after giving birth to my younger sister.” You answered with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry to hear.” Sansa felt guilty for even asking.

You stay quiet because you know very well on how her mother died. Your mother died naturally because the labors of birthing a child were too much on her body but Sansa’s mother died…because she was murdered and betrayed by those who were meant to be loyal to her son. You ached for Sansa…you couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain and torment she went through.

Sansa trusted you…and told you much about her journey from the moment she left her home in Winterfell so many years ago. She had been foolish back then but had grown into a strong Lady. You were tempted to kill the bastard Ramsay for even committing such heinous acts against Sansa. No woman should ever be treated as such.

“I apologize if I offended you.” Sansa spoke a few minutes later. The group was nearing the Weirwood tree. You have been here a few times with Jon. You found the tree ugly looking and rather unsettling but you didn’t dare say a word to Jon—it would be disrespectful.

You shook your head, “You didn’t offend me, Sansa, I was just deep in thought.” You reassured her feeling giddy that she was that concern about you. It reassured you that there was indeed a firm bond between Lady and Wildling.

You led the party to the Weirwood and the group dismounted from their horses. Podrick began to build a fire while you decided to leave Sansa with her trusted Knight. The ride had taken an hour or two and you were hungry. Your father always teased you about your large appetite.

Hunting was your number one priority.

You hadn’t had the chance to eat in the morning because Jon entrusted you with this quest. “I’ll be back.” You are with your bow and your quiver is on your back readied with arrows. “Some nice food will do us good. It’ll be a long trek back and even more on empty stomachs.”

Brienne looks impressed by your need to take action and nods.

Sansa looks away from the weird, crying tree to look at you with worry, “Will you be okay on your own?” She questions.

You nod trying not to blush from her concern, “You haven’t noticed but Ghost has been trailing us ever since we left the Wall. I should be fine.” You smile at her gently before taking your leave. Sansa stares after you unsure why she feels so fearful of you being out on your own.

“She will be fine, my lady.” Brienne reassures. Brienne isn’t quite sure about the bond between you and Sansa but she doesn’t care. As long as Lady Sansa was safe that was all Brienne cared about. She cared not if Sansa fancied you—a woman.

It reminded Brienne of Renly.

Sansa didn’t look convinced. It was Podrick who spoke up happily, “She’s a free-folk, my lady, she’s probably safer then we are.”

Sansa does smile at that.

You return not too long after. You are carrying a string of fat rabbits over your shoulders. Ghost isn’t too far off. The white direwolf has a red muzzle and that is from the deer he devoured. You would’ve hunted larger game but hauling such beasts would tire you and your horse far too much.

“Impressive.” Brienne approved seeing how much you caught in such little time.

Sansa had already paid her respects and finished praying to her God. She is now sitting near the fire bundled up protectively by her cloak. You grin at the large woman, “There’s a lot of fat game around here. I was tempted to take down some deer but the haul would’ve been too great.” You told the Knightly woman.

“Ay, that is true.” Brienne nodded as she and Podrick began to skin the rabbits—even though you had insisted.

“You caught them and it is our job to skin them.” Podrick responded after you began huffing with annoyance.

You relented and went to sit with Sansa.

She is staring off towards the distance—she’s watching Ghost who is barely noticeable among the fresh snow. “Do you miss your direwolf?” You ask her curiously.

Sansa nods with a sad look, “So much. I called her Lady.”

You smile slightly at the name and she continued, “She was so beautiful with her grey and white fur. She was gentle too unlike her siblings. She had always been at my side…I was so stupid back then…it was because of my foolishness that she got killed.” The Stark sighed with grief.

It gave you an idea.

An hour or so later, the group was heading back to the Wall. You were almost bouncing with excitement and so much that the others took note. “What has you so jumpy?” Sansa mused enjoying seeing such a child-like delight on your pale face.

You try not to smile to wide and shrug, “It was a good day. I caught some food and now it’s in my stomach. I’d rather spend my days hunting then coped up in that bloody castle.” You are telling some of the truth but the other truth was that you were eager to accomplish your quest.

When you reach the inside of the wall, you are walking towards Jon with determination. He is with Ser Davos and Tormund. “I wonder why you got such a shit eating grin on your face.” Your father is the first to notice you.

You glare at him as Jon and Ser Davos turn to greet you.

“Mind your business, old man,” You replied hotly before turning to Jon while your father cackles at your reaction, “I’m going on a hunt for a few days.”

That stopped your father’s cackling instantly. “What for?” Your father demands.

“There is something I want to look for.” You reply vaguely.

Your father is frowning deeply, “Now is not the time to go off wandering on your own, lass.”

“I know which is why I wanted to ask Jon if I could take Ghost with me.”

The direwolf perks his head up and saunters over to the group with interest. Jon is frowning at you with worry, “What are you going to look for?” He questions and you know very well that a vague answer would not suffice for him.

He wants a real answer.

You blush slightly and muttered, “I’m going to track some direwolves.”

“W-What?!” Your father sputtered angrily, “Are you bloody fucking mad?”

“Keep your voice down!” You hiss at him looking around to see if Sansa was anywhere nearby and you were lucky that she headed straight towards her chambers to warm up from the cold weather, “Look…I have my reasons and I’m sure it isn’t hard to figure out why I’m tracking direwolves.” You hiss.

Jon has a blank look on his face, “Y/N…why?” He feels proud that you are going to such lengths for his sister…but he couldn’t understand why.

You shy away from his intense eyes before saying quietly, “Because I want to see her happy again. She told about her Direwolf…Lady and she looked so full of grief that I felt the need to do this one thing for her.”

Your father isn’t having it and accuses, “You like her.”

You glare at him with red cheeks, “S-S-So?”

“She’s a Lady…” Tormund grumbles, “You do know that right?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jon intervenes, “I’ll let you take Ghost. But please, be careful. I don’t need you getting yourself kill trying to win my sister’s heart.” He even smirks at your flustered face. He’s never seen you like this, it’s amusing.

You glare at him, “You’re okay with it?”

Jon shrugs, “As long as she’s happy, I don’t care who she is with.”

A few hours later and you’re walking out of the gates of Castle Black. Sansa doesn’t know of your departure but she will soon. Ghost trots behind you looking very happy to be out and about. You begin your quest with a small smile thinking of the look on Sansa’s face when you return with a direwolf pup.

It takes you longer then expected to track down a pack of Direwolves. You had been hurt by them because you weren’t aware of your surroundings but Ghost had been there to scare them off. The injury took a day or two to heal up enough so that you could go about without doubling over in pain. In those days, you stuck close to this pack and eventually found a den with mother inside.

Ghost acted like your distraction and lured the mother out. She chased after you and you took the chance of going inside. There were many direwolf pups…you looked at them deciding which would best make Sansa happy. Your heart is racing with excitement but you need to hurry. The mother wouldn’t have gone far.

You take a pup that is white with reddish markings. This pup has violet eyes and is the smallest. “The runt.” You mumbled as the pup began to cry. You tuck the pup into your cloak and make haste. The mother would hear her pup’s cries and come back.

The pup has ceased its crying and you are thankful.

You hurry to your campsite and are quick to depart. Ghost isn’t far away and comes bounding back looking excited and happy that he irritated some poor mother wolf. The pup is old enough to be weaned off of milk and you slowly give her dried meats to keep her crying down.

She looks healthy for a runt.

It takes a few days to return to Castle Black. You had been gone for a week more then you wanted but hopefully your father or your sister wouldn’t kill you. You arrive at Castle Black tired and hungry. You hadn’t stopped riding for two days and your dried meats had gone straight to the greedy pup.

“About fucking time!” Your father is right at the gates and looking highly upset.

You sigh, “Save me the lecture, old man.”

“You are a shit daughter, you know that? I’ve been dying of worry for the last two weeks and all you have to say is that?” He glares at you.

“Where’s sissy?” You question with a frown.

“She’s tuckered out in your chambers waiting for your ass to come back.” He grumbles feeling dejected.

You smile and hug him.

He glares at you but then feels the runt squirming inside your cloak, “So, you managed to get one?” You take the runt out of your cloak and show her to him. He eyes the pup. “It’s a runt…probably would’ve died anyway.”

“Y/N!” It was Sansa’s voice and she didn’t sound happy.

You quickly tuck the pup back into your cloak as Sansa storms towards you. Your asshole of a father snickers, “Now you get to face her wrath.” He saunters off and Ghost makes his departure and goes to find his master. You glare after both.

“Where the hell have you been?” Sansa demands looking very upset.

You stare at her innocently, “I had something to do.”

Her glare hardens, “And it was so important that you had to leave without even telling me?” She demands with her hands on her hips—she is so furious with you! She’s been a worried mess for days. Jon wouldn’t tell her anything about your whereabouts even thought she knew that he had given you permission to even take Ghost!

You sheepishly stare at her before you take out the pup hidden in your cloak. Sansa is about to begin ranting but ceases her actions when she catches sight of the bundle of red and white fur in your hands. The pup cries out and tries to nip at your fingers. Sansa is speechless.

“I wanted to find you a new companion.” You said quietly as you dropped the pup in her arms.

She is staring down at the pup with wide, awed eyes. The pup, who had previously tried to bite your fingers off, was now looking up at Sansa with matching eyes before cuddling against her arms. “I was only meant to be away for a week but direwolves are assholes.” You chuckled remembering the large bite on your upper forearm.

She looks up at you with adoration and shock, “You went through all that trouble for…me?” She’s awed.

You try not to blush and nod, “Well, yeah.” You mumbled nervously.

Sansa stares at you intently. Her eyes making you squirm but suddenly her arms are around you as she hugs you but is careful not to agitate the pup. “Thank you.” She whispers in your ear making your heart sing and your body to react like never before. You blush deeply and are taken back when she kisses your cheek.

You stare at her wide-eyed and she’s blushing red.

“You’re welcome…” You answered awkwardly.

She beams at you and your heart shatters.

You were deeply in love with this woman.

I am so sorry if it seems rushed. I wrote this an hour before I had to go to work!!

[geraltcirilla]

Theory for GOT ending?

It’s pretty clear the ending of the series will be the destruction of the Iron Throne and returning the 7 Kingdoms to independent states. I don’t believe just the North will be Independent, they all will and the Red Keep will likely be actually, physically destroyed.

Reasons to think this:

In The House of the Undying Daenerys sees the Throne Room burned and destroyed. Probably she will be the one to destroy it herself and have her dragons burn it.

In The House of the Undying Daenerys approaches the Iron Throne and reaches out to touch it, but turns away, indicating she will never sit on the Iron Throne and never be Queen. Snow is falling in the throne room and cover the Iron Throne, indicating Winter is Coming for them all and also that Jon SNOW is the heir to the Iron Throne.

When Dany arrives at Dragon Stone, she has a similar scene where she approaches the throne and almost touches it, but turns away at the last moment.

Daario Naharis said it himself: “You are a conqueror Daenerys Stormborn. You weren’t made to sit on some chair in a palace.”

Daenerys keeps saying she will “Break the wheel”… but the wheel is the Iron Throne. The wheel is what determines who is the “true” king or queen of the Seven Kingdoms depending on who is sitting on it. To truly break the wheel Daenerys must destroy the throne and free all the Kingdoms.

Jon gives Daenerys a speach about being “more of the same”… if Dany wants to be any different she must destroy the IT.

Daenerys gives the Iron Islands independence, and Tyrion tells her he is concerned more kingdoms will ask for independence and then she won’t have a Seven Kingdoms to rule. She replies, “Let them ask.”

The Iron Throne (and the wheel) was created by Aegon The Conqueror. It is only fitting that it is destroyed by a Targaryen.

Daenerys fancies herself a revolutionary and dons the title “Break of Chains”. If she truly wants to be a revolutionary, this is how she does it.

I also have a general idea of where each character will end up by the end of the series. This is what I think? (More under the read more, this gets kinda lengthy lol.)

Daenerys Targaryen

I’ve already stated I believe Daenerys will fulfill her promise to “break the wheel” by destroying the IT and freeing the Seven Kingdoms. But what happens to Daenerys when she has no Seven Kingdoms left to rule? 

GRRM has always stated the ending to ASOIAF would be bittersweet. Daenerys will die defeating the Night King and her dragons will die with her. Her legacy will be liberating the Seven Kingdoms from the Iron Throne and saving humanity from the Army of the Undead.

Sansa Stark

Once the Seven Kingdoms are liberated each Kingdom must choose it’s own King or Queen. Sansa has proven herself the best leader the North has had in a long time. She has both the brains and the name to be a great ruler. She will be Queen of the North. She’s very likely to marry a lord, fulfilling her father’s prophecy that she will marry a lord (as she herself is Queen) who is “worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong.”

Bran Stark

Bran has stated that as the Three-Eyed Raven he can “never be the Lord of anything”. I’m not certain what will happen with him, but I believe that statement indicates he won’t be KitN. He might remain in Winterfell and be a sort of Maester Amon type character. I could also see him marrying Meera Reed and continuing the Stark name with their children (as women cannot pass their name down according to Westerosi tradition). Bran might also die, as any character who possess magic or is magical will end along with the White Walkers (Dragons, Targaryens, White Walkers, Children of the Forest, etc… in the books this theory is a little more tricky as all the Stark children are Wargs.) Bran is a character I am less certain about with the vaguest future.

Arya Stark

In AGoT Ned tells Sansa she will marry a “lord,” but tells Arya “You will marry a king and rule his castle, and your sons will be knights and princes and lords and, yes, perhaps even a High Septon.” Why tell Sansa she would marry a lord, but Arya she would marry a king? Very peculiar word choice unless it meant something.

Arya is also known to love Nymeria, a Warrior Queen of Dorne, and even named her direwolf after her. Nymeria was indeed married to a King and had children herself. And at one point in ASoS Arya fantasizes about running away with Gendry and riding with him and living as an outlaw with the Brotherhood Without Banners like Wenda the White Fawn. Which leads me on to my next character…

Gendry

There’s a reason this guy is still around, and it’s not to make rowing jokes and smash people in the heads with hammers. After the Iron Throne is destroyed and the Seven Kingdoms become Independent, the Stormlands will need a King. Gendry is the last remaining son of Robert Baratheon, and he can be legitimized and take up residence in the abandoned Storm’s End as their new King.

This brings us back to Arya. GRRM has stated they will meet again, and there is too much foreshadowing surrounding her relationship to Gendry for it not to lead somewhere. (The Featherbed song, Arya’s questionable thoughts about Gendry on his looks and bare naked body, Gendry’s jealousy towards Ned Dayne and his hyperawareness of his and Arya’s stature differences, Gendry trying to make Arya herself jealous by threatening to sleep with Bella, the parallels between Robert/Gendry and Lyanna/Arya, Robert wishing for his son and Ned’s daughter to marry, and did I mention the Featherbed song?)

As I stated previously, there has been much reference to Arya being a Queen and marrying a King (between Ned and Arya’s childhood idols). Arya is going to marry Gendry and be Queen of the Stormlands. But Arya is a very unconventional young women. She won’t be sewing and making tea. She’ll be a Warrior Queen and ride with Gendry, and we know Gendry is the type of person who would nurture her free spirit and never try to reign her in. Ned told Robert “You saw her beauty but not the Iron underneath,” and Gendry is the opposite. He saw her Iron first, and then her beauty (”a pretty oak tree”).

Jon Snow

Jon is another character I cannot predict, like Bran Stark. But unlike Bran where the stars are the limit, there are only a few possible outcomes I see happening for Jon.

Jon dies one final, permanent time in the battle against the Night King. (Foreshadowing for this includes the fact he as already died once before and the many references to his death throughout season 7. Facts that might disprove this theory is that Jon now has Long Claw, which is a pretty heavy-handed foreshadowing to Jon having children.)

Jon marries Sansa. I’m not a fan of them as a couple or this theory, but admittedly there is a lot of foreshadowing for them. Jon would be living in Winterfell, his true home. Jon was never interesting in being King but is a good leader, which is why life as a consort would be suitable for him. There’s parallels between Ned an Cat, the obvious romantic/sexual connection between Jon and redheads (Ros and Ygritte). Jon also fulfills the qualifications of being “brave, gentle and strong” like Ned wanted. I’m a strong supporter of the theory that GRRM is trying to tell us “incest is bad, and bad things happen when you commit it” through the various houses and characters. However it’s worth noting that in Westeros and even in modern day society cousins are not considered incest, so GRRM could still hypothetically drill home the point incest=bad while still creating a Jon/Sansa endgame.

Jon just marries some other random girl. (Like seriously guys why does it have to be a girl we know? It could easily be a random side person like who Robb married.)

I also think it may be possible Jon will take Stark as a last name. He’s just as much a Stark as he is a Targ through Lyanna and Jon was raised as Ned’s son. The North is a deep and powerful part of him, and as he told Stannis, he always wanted to be Jon Stark.

Some other things I think are likely to happen before the end:

Jaime is the valonqar will kill Cersei, but die himself either in the process or shortly afterward. (Either he strangles her or she dies during childbirth.)

Tyrion will inherit Casterly Rock and rule the Westerlands and continue the Lannister name.

[obsidianarchives]

Game of Thrones Recap: S7E2 - "Stormborn"

So we’re only on episode 2 of this season and a lot is already happening. The pacing of this season is much faster than the previous ones and while it’s a little funny to watch a letter being sent and received in the same episode rather than in three, it’s also a little sad. We are only five episodes away from the season finale and only 11 away from the series finale. While I am excited for what’s to come, it feels bittersweet because it’s clearly time for things to come to an end.

Dragonstone

We start this episode off on Dragonstone, where a storm is raging all around, clearly symbolizing Daenerys’s homecoming. We join Dany in her council chambers with Tyrion and Varys, and here she questions Varys’s loyalties, pointing out all the ways Varys has plotted against other Kings in the past. This scene reminded me that Dany and Varys hadn’t had a scene together yet, and it also gave Varys a moment to really explain to Dany - and to us - what his end goal has been all this time. While he’s said time and time again that he serves the realm, a lot of his actions have seemed to suggest otherwise. His answers seem to satisfy Dany, however, and she implores him to tell her if she’s failing the realm rather than plotting behind her back, or else, of course, she’ll feed him to one of her dragons.

Then Melisandre shows up. Like everyone else, I was wondering where she would go after being banished from the North, and part of me thought she might end up running into Arya - who she told eons ago she would see again. Ever consistent in her faith, Melisandre tells Dany, Tyrion, and Varys about the Long Night and the Prince That Was Promised. Missandei corrects Melisandre, explaining that in its original language “Azor Ahai” was not gendered and for a second I thought Mel would change her tune again and declare Dany the Chosen One, but instead she’s more vague, saying that she believes both Dany AND Jon have a role to play. Tyrion pipes up at the mention of Jon Snow, saying that he likes and trusts him despite not having seen each other in six whole seasons. Melisandre suggests that Dany and Jon come together and Tyrion agrees - not only can they together defeat the white walkers (which I’m not sure any of them truly believe exists yet) but the alliance would give Dany the North, continuing to cement her claim over Westeros. Dany tells Tyrion to write to Jon, inviting him to come to Dragonstone to bend the knee, which seems unlikely, but maybe it’ll end in marriage instead?

We also see a quick scene between Missandei and Grey Worm, who is going off to fight at Casterly Rock. They finally have a night of intimacy and it’s so sweet and I want nothing but good things for them which makes me think they won’t get it. I’m going to move on before I make myself too sad.

There’s a war council including Ellaria Sand, Yara Greyjoy, and Olenna Tyrell. All three of them are impatient and want to start the warring now, but Dany is listening to Tyrion’s council of caution, repeating to them that she does not want to be the “Queen of Ashes.” Instead of attacking King’s Landing she wants the Dornishmen and Tyrells to lay siege on the city - using Westerosi to do this so that she doesn’t lose the citizens of King’s Landing and the larger country to xenophobia against the dothraki and Unsullied. Instead, she’s going to send the latter to Casterly Rock because Tyrion loves irony and using the traits he inherited from his father to mess with his legacy. Dany then meets privately with Olenna, who cautions her against listening to Tyrion’s council. Through Tyrion and Olenna we see the two warring sides against Dany - the desire to be wise and loved and the desire to burn everything to the ground. Hopefully bathing the whitewalkers in dragon flame will be enough for her and then they can go ahead and have true peace in the realm.

Winterfell

Meanwhile Westeros apparently has e-raven now because Jon and Sansa got the message from Tyrion and Dany quicker than we’ve ever seen a letter arrive on this show. I love that we get to see Jon consulting with Sansa more, even though as we saw in the last episode - and later in this one - he does make the final decision himself. Sansa doesn’t trust that the letter is real, though both she and Jon don’t exactly have ill will towards Tyrion. In their eyes, it could definitely be a trap but, as Davos points out, if it’s real it means there are dragons and dragons can kill wights because they are the best creature in all of the Known World.

And then Jon gets another letter from Sam, who chose to use snail-crow because the Citadel is old fashioned or something. This letter seals Jon’s decision to go and meet with Daenerys, and though there is an uproar from Houses Royce, Glover, and Mormont for various reasons, he declares that he and Davos will head south to Dragonstone and that he is leaving Winterfell and the North to Sansa. While Sansa is initially upset - and with good reason as the Targaryens and the Lannisters are the reasons why their family only has four (though they think two) people left in it - she takes on the responsibility.

Jon then goes to the crypts to pay his respects to Ned, but Littlefinger ruins it by existing and sticking his face where he doesn’t belong. For some reason he can’t keep Ned and Cat’s names out his mouth, and Jon is already over it. But when Littlefinger tells Jon he loves Sansa as he loved Catelyn, Jon has the appropriate response and almost chokes him out, telling him that if he touches Sansa he’ll kill him. Jon then leaves - splitting up the Starks once again - and Littlefinger continues to not gain any perspective in the wake of the frozen zombie apocalypse.

King’s Landing

In King’s Landing, Cersei has called Sam’s delightful father Lord Randyll Tarly and the other lords of the Reach to court. She tries to convince them to forsake Lady Olenna for her, citing Dany’s cruelty like she didn’t just reanimate the Mountain, have all the dwarfs in Essos beheaded in her hunt to find her brother, and blow up a place of worship. Randyll isn’t completely convinced given Dany’s dragons but Qyburn mentions that there are ways to kill them pushing him higher on my list of people in this world I need to die and not come back as whitewalkers. Jaime speaks with Randyll privately, asking him to be the general of Cersei’s army. Randyll is hesitant because he doesn’t want to go against his vows to the Tyrells, but Jaime both appeals to Randyll’s racism against the dothraki and offers him the title of Warden of the South, so that alliance is more or less shored up.

Meanwhile, Qyburn takes Cersei to the dungeon where all of the old dragon skulls are kept. He shows her a giant crossbow, mentioning Drogon’s injury from the fighting pits and defiling Balerion’s skull because his mama clearly didn’t raise him right. This is scary because it almost guarantees that one of the dragons may die and then HOW WILL WE GET THREE RIDERS. I honestly just need Cersei gone so we can have ALL THREE dragons fight the Night King and live. If they don’t all survive, I will be writing a strongly-worded letter.

Oldtown

Rather than focusing on the real task at hand - the one on how to defeat the frozen cadavers marching south - Sam, for some reason, wants to help Jorah Mormont. Like I get that Sam doesn’t know Jorah’s history and just knows that he was the son of Lord Commander Mormont, but trust me fam, he’s not worth it. Remember why you’re here! We need more information on the whitewalkers not the writers trying to make us feel sympathy for Jorah. Stop trying to make fetch happen.

Sam keeps sneaking around doing things he’s not supposed to (and this time it’s not even for what really matters) and I have a feeling Archmaester Ebrose or one of the other maesters will catch him soon. Rather than doing the research Ebrose gives him, Sam is thinking of ways to cure Jorah though Ebrose tells him it’s impossible. So instead of listening, he decides to cut Jorah’s grayscale off with a scalpel. If Sam gets grayscale trying to help this dude I’m going to be mad but also Sam brought this on himself.

The Riverlands

Arya is on her way to kill Cersei but then she sees Hot Pie! It’s nice that she runs into someone familiar, but it’s also clearly strange for her given that she’s changed so much since she last saw her friend. Hot Pie mentions Brienne to her, asking if they ran into each other, and then mentions to her that Jon is King in the North. In the last episode I was wondering why Arya wasn’t heading to Winterfell but it was because she didn’t know the Boltons were defeated! While this seems a little strange given how long she was at the Twins, I suppose it is possible that she was so entrenched in her revenge plot against the Freys that she didn’t hear about the Battle of the Bastards. However, this news forces Arya to make a decision: will she continue on her trek south to kill Cersei or will she go home to Jon and Sansa? Thank the seven, our girl is headed North! Of course she - or maybe Bran - will probably arrive just after Jon leaves for Dragonstone because the Starks can never have nice things.

As she travels north, some wolves surround her camp. It’s Nymeria and her gang coming to see who’s on their turf, and Nymeria has GROWN. Arya asks Nymeria to come back with her to Winterfell, but Nymeria says nah and leaves. Arya realizes that it’s not in Nymeria’s nature to be domesticated or to be a pet and lets her go. I’m not totally clear on why this scene was there - on the one hand it was great to see Arya’s direwolf but we haven’t seen or even heard hints of her since Arya sent her away in the second episode of the show. The only thing I can think of is that the scene was meant as a parallel with Arya herself - she doesn’t have it in her to be a lady the way her sister does and she never did. I’m wondering what this will mean for Arya’s character in the future - will she turn away from Winterfell and go back to Cersei as was her original plan? Or will she get to Winterfell only to realize that she can’t fit into the box she’d been forced into as a girl? I can’t imagine Jon and Sansa would try to force her to be someone she’s not, but who knows what would happen when there are alliances to be made in order to defend the coming cold? And where is Ghost???

The Narrow Sea

We then go to the Narrow Sea, where the Greyjoys and the Sand Snakes are making their way to Dorne on Daenerys’s orders. Yara and Ellaria flirt and mess with Theon and Theon decides to give them some privacy when they are attacked by Euron’s Iron Fleet. This battle was brutal, and the first pirate battle we’ve really gotten to see. It’s a slaughter though, with Euron killing Obara and Nym and taking Ellaria and Tyene captive. Euron captures Yara and Theon has a moment of PTSD, becomes Reek again, and jumps overboard. It’s clear that these women are the gifts he’s going to give Cersei and I’m very worried about their wellbeing. I’m a little annoyed at Theon, but also we all knew he was damaged by Ramsay and that was only partly his own fault given Ramsay’s sadism. I am still curious about Euron and how he knew Yara was traveling. It’s possible he went to Dragonstone and followed them from there, and other than seeing him fight with a badass hook, I’m still not seeing signs of him being worse than Joffrey or Ramsay - again, not that I want to see that. His character so far has been meh for me, in part because he just ended the Sand Snakes’ weak storyline, usurping it with the Greyjoy storyline for least compelling. Of course that could all change and I’m interested in seeing where it’s going and how Dany will take this L.

[gjgriff736]

In the latest episode of Game of Thrones, Dany’s restless, Euron makes his move and Grey Worm becomes a man.

Well, it didn’t take long for Dany’s attitude to change.  She hasn’t been on Dragonstone that long and already she’s pissy.  She wants to take the Seven Kingdoms now.  But Tyrion and Varys want her to wait.  They know Cersei, her cunning and her strategic brain.  She won’t go down without a hell of a fight.  A storm is raging on Dragonstone and Dany is told she was born on a night like this one.  But Dany doesn’t want to hear all of that mess, instead, she wants to know where Varys’ loyalty lies.  She starts to ask questions, wanting to know why he constantly changed position when it came to the kings of Westeros.  Varys doesn’t mince words because he’s lived a cruel life, he knows what it’s like to be hungry, scared and alone.  “You wish to know where my true loyalties lie?  Not with any king or queen, but with the people.  The people who suffer under despots and prosper under just rule, the people whose hearts you aim to win.”  Yes!  Dany, wary of Varys but willing to work with him, tells him to swear that if she ever fails the people, that he will tell her to face and he does swear.  But then she tells him, “And I swear this.  If you ever betray me, I will burn you alive.  Varys ain’t no fool.  He answers, “I would expect nothing less from the mother of dragons.”  The two come to a truce, for now.

After, Dany is visited by Melisandre, recently kicked out of Winterfell by Jon Snow.  She tells Dany that she must summon the newly-crowned King in the North.  Tyrion hears the name and tells Dany that Jon is a good man and would definitely be a great ally.  Dany tells Halfman to send a raven to Jon summoning him to Dragonstone.  Oh yeah, and to “bend the knee.”  Umm, ok.

At Winterfell, Jon, Sansa and Davos are discussing the raven from Tyrion.  Sansa thinks it’s a trick but Jon knows the note is really from Tyrion thanks to the last line:  all dwarves are bastards in their father’s eyes.  Sensibly, Jon asks Sansa for her advice about Tyrion.  She tells him that Halfman is not like the rest of the Lannisters and was always good to her while she was in King’s Landing.  But she thinks it’s way too risky for Jon to meet with Dany and advises against it.  Davos agrees but also mentions that if the white walkers make it past the Wall, will they have enough men.  Jon has a decision to make and fast.

At King’s Landing, Cersei meets with the remaining bannermen of House Tyrell, including Samwell’s repulsive father.  The Queen tries to scare the men into fighting for the Crown, even throwing in a dig about the “foreign Dothrakis.”  Sounded a bit too much like real life, to be honest.  However, not everyone is convinced.  Sam’s dad steps up and says that Dany has three grown dragons, so how in the Mother are they gonna defeat them?  As always, Qyburn has a plan.  After the meeting, Jaime meets with Tarly to try and persuade him to fight for Cersei.  Tarly isn’t a sycophant, though.  The man was willing to kill his own son to preserve his name.  He won’t fight for House Lannister unless he knows it will be in the best interest of House Tarly.  So, what will the old bastard do?

Back at the Citadel, a frightened Sam stares at Jorah as he’s being examined.  The greyscale has covered most of his body, meaning it won’t be long before he loses his mind.  Sam mentions to the Archmaester that Princess Shireen (RIP, Princess), was cured of her greyscale.  But the Archmaester tells him it was because her affliction was caught right away.  No such luck for Jorah.  The Archmaester gave Jorah a day to figure out what he plans to do, but he can’t stay at the Citadel.  Sam asks Jorah if he should contact his family, and when he realizes that the sick man is a Mormont, Sam tries to find a cure instead.

Back at King’s Landing, Qyburn take Cersei down into the dungeons to show off his newest toy.  It’s a giant crossbow strong enough to kill Dany’s dragons.  He demonstrates its power by having Cersei shoot one of the giant arrows into the one of the dragon skulls, the largest one of the bunch.  The arrow goes straight through the skull, which spells trouble for House Targaryen.

Back at Dragonstone, Yara, Lady Olenna and Ellaria are trying to convince Dany to attack King’s Landing.  They don’t understand why she’s waiting around, but they soon find out.  Halfman tells the ladies that their armies will attack the capital, surrounding King’s Landing and trapping Cersei.  The women are pissed about that, thinking their armies will be doing all of the heavy lifting.  But then Tyrion reveals the kicker:  the Unsullied will attack his own family home, Casterly Rock.  The women are speechless, but think this plan is a good one.  They agree to it before Dany requests a meeting with Lady Olenna alone.  Dany tries to convince her that she will eventually bring peace to Westeros.  But Olenna knows much, much better.  She knows that Tyrion is a clever man, but so were many men she’s known over the years.  And she outlived them all by ignoring them.  “The lords of Westeros are sheep.  Are you a sheep? No.  You’re a dragon.  Be a dragon.”  The time will come when Dany will absolutely have to be a dragon.

Later that night, Missandei visits Grey Worm before he leaves for Casterly Rock.  The two have grown ever closer, but never made a move on each other.  But that all changed when Grey Worm explained that Missandei was his weakness.  He kisses her, but she stops him.  She stops him so she can take off her robes, then proceeds to undress Grey Worm.  But he doesn’t want her to see him, being a eunuch and all.  But she’s like, nah man, you’re leaving, we’re doing this.  They both get naked and Grey Worm is vulnerable for the first time since he was a boy.  Missandei takes him to the bed and they finally get intimate.  Grey Worm may not have a penis, but if you think that’s what you need to be intimate, you’re doing it wrong.  Here’s hoping GOT doesn’t fuck us all up by having Grey Worm die at Casterly Rock.  Cuz you know this show doesn’t care about our feelings!

Back at the Citadel, Sam sneaks into Jorah’s room so he can perform the cure for his greyscale, which is strictly forbidden.  He tells Mormont that the procedure is extremely painful (and positively nauseating to watch).  Not sure how he survived the ordeal, but here’s hoping it works and Jorah can return to his Khaleesi a new man.

Still on the road to King’s Landing, Arya meets up with her old friend Hot Pie, who’s culinary skills have only gotten better.  As she’s eating, Hot Pie wonders why she isn’t at Winterfell.  She’s like, “why would I go there since the Boltons have it?”  And he was like, “you haven’t heard?  Your brother fucked Ramsay up and took Winterfell back.  He’s there now.”  Arya is conflicted because she wants to kill Cersei but damn does she want to see her brother and go home again.  She leaves her friend and while outside, makes the decision to head back to Winterfell.  I’m not ready for that reunion!  I’m getting choked up just thinking about it!!

Back at Winterfell, Jon meets once again with his bannermen to tell them that he will be meeting with Dany after all.  The men are pissed and think he’s making a mistake.  Even Lady Lyanna told him to stay in the North.  But Jon tells them all that he’s seen the army of the dead with his own eyes.  The North will need as many allies as it can get to defeat it and the Night King.  Sansa (looking more and more like Cersei every day) tells him not to go, until he tells her that he’s leaving Winterfell for her to rule until he returns.  That shut her up, but she needs to watch out for Littlefinger.  This was the moment he was waiting for and don’t believe for a minute that he won’t try to take advantage.  Which he did immediately.

In the crypt, Jon is paying respects to his father when Littlefinger comes down to speak with him.  Lord Baelish starts talking about Ned and Caitlyn but Jon doesn’t want to hear it.  He starts to leave but when he brings up Sansa, Jon chokes him out.  He tells Lord Baelish that if he even talks to Sansa, he’ll kill him.  Jon lets him go (for now) and he and Davos leave for Dragonstone.  What will Littlefinger’s next move be now that Jon is away?

On the road, Arya is trying to get a fire going when she and her horse are surrounded by wolves.  They all look like they’re ready to attack when a giant direwolf comes up behind her.  Turns out it’s her own direwolf, Nymeria.  The wolf is HUGE and looks like it’s ready to tear her up, but when Arya talks to her, she recognizes her old friend and calms down.  Arya wants Nymeria to go with her to Winterfell, but the wolf turns and goes back into the woods.  Arya is devastated at first, but then she realizes that it’s been too long since Nymeria last saw her and she’s accustomed to being free.  “That’s not you,” she says, remembering when she said the same thing to Ned in Season 1 (so long ago!).

On the water, Theon, Yara and Ellaria are below deck having some drinks.  Ellaria and Yara are flirting relentlessly, with poor Theon feeling the loss of his prized possession.  The two ladies start making out when something crashes into the ship.  Yara grabs her sword and she and Theon go above deck to see their Uncle Euron’s armada on top of them.  Euron and his men attack and it’s all-out war.  The fighting is vicious, leaving everyone on board (including the Sand Snakes) dead and Yara captured.  Theon, who could have saved his sister, freezes in place, remembering the horrors he endured while under Ramsay’s control.  He jumps overboard, leaving his sister to be captured by Euron.  When the fighting is over, Theon is in the water, surveying the carnage that was left in Euron’s wake.

What will happen now that part of Dany’s army has been slaughtered?  How will Theon deal with the loss of his sister?  And will we be able to contain ourselves when Jon and Dany finally meet?

Stay tuned.

Game of Thrones airs Sundays at 9pm on HBO.  Photos courtesy of HBO.

Game of Thrones – Season 7 – Stormborn In the latest episode of Game of Thrones, Dany’s restless, Euron makes his move and Grey Worm becomes a man.

[geraltcirilla]

The ending of ASOIAF/GoT

So GRRM has stated in the past that the ending for the television series Game of Thrones will be the same as the ending for his fantasy novels A Song of Ice and Fire, but the journey to get there will be different.

Here’s my theory on where the characters end up. (I’m only going to talk about Starks and Targaryens here, sorry, there are too many characters.)

Daenerys Targaryen

Daenerys stated famously to Tyrion in season 6, “I’m not going to stop the wheel, I’m going to break the wheel.” And I believe her. That statement is a prophecy. But what is the wheel? The wheel is the Iron Throne. The wheel decides who is ruler of the Seven Kingdoms based off who sits in the throne. For Daenerys to truly break the wheel she must destroy the Throne. The Iron Throne was created by the Targaryens and will end with the Targaryen line. 

But what happens to Daenerys when she has no Seven Kingdoms left to rule? GRRM has always stated the ending to ASOIAF would be bittersweet. Daenerys will die defeating the Night King and her dragons will die with her. Her legacy will be liberating the Seven Kingdoms from the Iron Throne and saving humanity from the Army of the Undead.

Sansa Stark

Once the Seven Kingdoms are liberated each Kingdom must choose it’s own King or Queen. Sansa has proven herself the best leader the North has had in a long time. She has both the brains and the name to be a great ruler. She will be Queen of the North. She’s very likely to marry a lord, fulfilling her father’s prophecy that she will marry a lord (as she herself is Queen) who is “worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong.”

Bran Stark

Bran has stated that as the Three-Eyed Raven he can “never be the Lord of anything”. I’m not certain what will happen with him. He might remain in Winterfell and be a sort of Maester Amon type character. I could also see him marrying Meera Reed and continuing the Stark name with their children (as women cannot pass their name down according to Westerosi tradition). Bran might also die, as any character who possess magic or is magical will end along with the White Walkers (Dragons, Targaryens, White Walkers, Children of the Forest, etc… in the books this theory is a little more tricky as all the Stark children are Wargs.) Bran is a character I am less certain about with the vaguest future.

Arya Stark

In AGoT Ned tells Sansa she will marry a “lord,” but tells Arya “You will marry a king and rule his castle, and your sons will be knights and princes and lords and, yes, perhaps even a High Septon.” Why tell Sansa she would marry a lord, but Arya she would marry a king? Very peculiar word choice unless it meant something.

Arya is also known to love Nymeria, a Warrior Queen of Dorne, and even named her direwolf after her. Nymeria was indeed married to a King and had children herself. And at one point in ASoS Arya fantasizes about running away with Gendry and riding with him and living as an outlaw with the Brotherhood Without Banners like Wenda the White Fawn. Which leads me on to my next character…

Gendry

(I know he’s not a Stark or Targaryen but what happens to him is relevant to Arya so bare with me.) There’s a reason this guy is still around, and it’s not to make rowing jokes and smash people in the heads with hammers. After the Iron Throne is destroyed and the Seven Kingdoms become Independent, the Stormlands will need a King. Gendry is the last remaining son of Robert Baratheon, and he can be legitimized and take up residence in the abandoned Storm’s End as their new King.

This brings us back to Arya. GRRM has stated they will meet again, and there is too much foreshadowing surrounding her relationship to Gendry for it not to lead somewhere. (The Featherbed song, Arya’s questionable thoughts about Gendry on his looks and bare naked body, Gendry’s jealousy towards Ned Dayne and his hyperawareness of his and Arya’s stature differences, Gendry trying to make Arya herself jealous by threatening to sleep with Bella, the parallels between Robert/Gendry and Lyanna/Arya, Robert wishing for his son and Ned’s daughter to marry, and did I mention the Featherbed song?) 

As I stated previously, there has been much reference to Arya being a Queen and marrying a King (between Ned and Arya’s childhood idols). Arya is going to marry Gendry and be Queen of the Stormlands. But Arya is a very unconventional young women. She won’t be sewing and making tea. She’ll be a Warrior Queen and ride with Gendry, and we know Gendry is the type of person who would nurture her free spirit and never try to reign her in. Ned told Robert “You saw her beauty but not the Iron underneath,” and Gendry is the opposite. He saw her Iron first, and then her beauty (”a pretty oak tree”).

Jon Snow

Jon is another character I cannot predict, like Bran Stark. But unlike Bran where the stars are the limit, there are only a few possible outcomes I see happening for Jon. 

1) Jon dies one final, permanent time in the battle against the Night King. 2) Jon returns to the Wall, effectively ending the Targaryen line like Maester Aemon had. 3) Jon marries Sansa. I’m not a fan of them as a couple or this theory, but admittedly there is a lot of foreshadowing for them. Jon would be living in Winterfell, his true home. Jon was never interesting in being King but is a good leader, which is why life as a consort would be suitable for him. There’s parallels between Ned an Cat, the obvious romantic/sexual connection between Jon and redheads (Ros and Ygritte). Jon also fufills the qualifications of being “brave, gentle and strong” like Ned wanted.

Bonus Characters

And that about sums it up. For fun I’ll include a few more theories that are very obvious, because they are very obviously going to happen!

Jaime is the valonqar will kill Cersei, but die himself either in the process or shortly afterward.

Tyrion will inherit Casterly Rock and rule the Westerlands.

Arianne Martell will be Queen of Dorne, but this is obvious. She’s already princess of Dorne. But she’s not going to marry Aegon, because Aegon is:

FAegon. He’s a Blackfyre. Obviously.