#i will never hurt elia or lyanna in my fics sorry my way of loving them is keeping them away from rhaegar rip

[starryharps]

the veil of love

pairing: rhaegar targaryen/ arryn! reader

summary: rhaegar visits an old flame at the eyrie, determined to do things right this time.

word count: 2,741

part of: heartlines series

tags: angst with a happy ending (smut, fluff in later parts)

a/n: prefacing this by saying that this is a nonlinear series titled "heartlines", many questions about the reader and the nature of her relationship with rhaegar will be subsequently answered. but I will say, the next chapter is smut. haha.

read on ao3 | masterlist |

there was a storm picking up, the prince noted as he cursed his way into the journey across the narrow bridges that connected the formidable fortress of the vale.

you were situated in the last tower of the eyrie, according to jon arryn. the most isolated one of it all. rhaegar grimaced at its height as he entered the reception hall, nodding to the ladies in waiting. the climb towards the top of the tower proved to be endless, but he found himself in front of a grand door of mahogany regardless.

how will you react? will you smile kindly on him, eyes sparkling upon seeing your lover after four years? or would you throw a shoe at him, cursing whatever is left of his scant bloodline and hoping he falls through the moon door? or would you do nothing, ignoring his presence like you always did when he teased your inability to play the harp or when he read a couple of chapters of the romance novel you shared in advance?

his cheeks flushed slightly at the memory, remembering how you once asked him to act out a few scenes with him. oh, the things you had teased out of him.

rhaegar shook his head.

he knocked.

the door creaked on its own, almost inviting him in. he could swear he heard the sounds of pages turning. you were most likely reading, he inferred. the ivory light crept in his vision as he opened the door fully, taking in the blue chambers cloistered at the top of the tower, and gasped at the regality of it.

blue so dark, it was indigo. everywhere. constellations drawn on every bit of the ceiling stretching up and up and up, to the cosmic hand-painted tapestries and scattered paintings, a few left to dry. there were instruments of all types scattered in an organized manner: telescopes, vials, maps, and books. gods above, so many books were pouring out of the shelves. by the glowing white canopy bed was a giant glass-stained window that refracted a rainbow of lights. rhaegar could hear the echoes of the strong wind howling. he marveled at the strength of the glass to hold up at such an altitude.

his eyes shifted to the corner of the room, where a window lay open, and there, in all your glory, alive and breathing, you sat. clad in arryn blue, reading a book, the wind kissing your cheeks as you leaned by the window.

he looks at you. you’ve paled a bit in these unforgiving heights, there’s a certain sense of unease in him as he notes your figure hidden by the loose robes. you’ve thinned out, there’s a lack of something in you that he can’t quite pinpoint.

you raise your eyes at him and quietly lock in a staring contest with the prince regent of the seven kingdoms.

the winds howled louder.

neither of you speaks, rhaegar stands by the door. gripping it like a terrified child, he wants to run to you, do ablutions, prostate, and beg. but your aura is one of quiet lethality. he could do angry, he could do sad, he could do hysterical….but he couldn’t do….whatever this was…an air of nothingness that seemed to emanate from you.

“your grace.” he winced. it was always rhae.

he held back his tongue. watching you put a bookmark and close what you were reading.

“what brings his grace to the eyrie?” he hates this. he hates the tone. the lack of musicality and mirth in your voice. how you would harmonize with his vocals and run around, laughing as he took in the happy tones he wanted to drown in, those memories being one of the few things he remembered from his otherwise somber childhood.

he calls out your name, unable to stop the wavering in his mouth, and takes a shy step forward, boots clacking against the smooth marble. gods, you were so close, just within his reach.

you depart from the reading nest, shuffling towards the solar of the room, and put your hands in front of yourself, almost protective.

“i came…to see you.” rhaegar exhaled.

“there was no need to your grace. i am well. a letter would’ve done. you needn’t climb the eyrie for me.”

he quietly put his sword to the table in front of him, and walked closer. “i had to. letters wouldn’t be able to do justice to what i wished to say.”

he met her questioning gaze, restraining himself from slipping further into them, but the task seemed more and more so arduous.

“you…you fled. that night.” he watched as you took interest in the sword at your table.

“my family had to return sooner or later.”

“lord arryn and his retinue were to embark within a month, yet you rode out on horseback weeks in advance, vanished into the vale…left the palace within hours.”

“the vale cannot be left alone for long.”

rhaegar pressed on, frustrated. “no,” “the royce and lord arryn’s fostered wards were present at the eyrie. you fled. you ran away.” you left me.

he watched you watch the window.

“there was nothing left for me there, in that palace.”

“i was there.”

“the prince of dragonstone was there. but rhaegar wasn’t. to be wed to elia of dorne. for political purposes. with zero fight from the groom-to-be. despite the court knowing he had a lover of three years lurking right next to him as the deal was finalized by the king.”

rhaegar recoiled at the jab, it was as if dragonglass pierced him straight into his heart. the iron tones of your voice hammering him, wounding his chest at the cruel remark.

“n-no.”

“you promised me. underneath the star showers to be mine. you told me over and over in the kingswood, by the waterfalls that i am yours. that we would run hand in hand by the grasslands together, plucking fruit and making play endlessly. rule the realm with peace and prosperity, rebuild the peace your father had ruined brick by brick with me by your side. our song of sky and the dragon.

there is no emotion but a hollowed loss in your voice as you continued, “for years. you promised me. for years of this endless winter, i thought a spring of our love would bloom and i would vow myself to you till the end of my days. you said you were mine. i thought you were mine.”

rhaegar felt tears prick his eyes, he breathed deeply.

“i…” he took your name again. “politics..”

then, rage seethed in your icy gaze.

“politics?” you scoff. “you wish to lecture me on politics? your match was political, yes. but let me remind you dorne is already on good terms with westeros. the alliances with house dayne, yronwood and martells were strong regardless and were stable. viserys showed an interest in doran’s daughter from a young age itself when she had visited. what does the vale lack that the dorne has for us to be cast aside over and over in alliances? your king demands of our warriors but won’t wed one of his kin despite openly knowing that his son has been besotted with jon arryn’s niece for years!”

“you know the girl is weak, you know she is frail! i doubt she’ll be able to handle a child, leave the poor girl alone, let her be in dorne. grant her this mercy. you rejected the tyrell match, the dayne match, the blackwood match, yet you accepted the martell match. but why couldn’t you for once in your life grow a spine and run after the one thing you have claimed to love more than your god forsaken prophecy for once? let me suffer in her place, I am begging you, let me burn with you."

“my father will murder you!” he spoke out, frantic.

“and you’ll let somebody else take in my place?” i gasp out. “are you that cruel your grace?”

“i was trying to protect you.”

“you’re shit at protecting things.”

“from him.” his voice cracked “from myself.”

“..what?”

“the prophecy.”

“shut the fuck up.”

his eyes blazed. “listen to me!”

“no!”

“i didn’t want you to be part of my suffering!”

you gawked at him.

“tread carefully.”

rhaegar put his hands up, breathing deeply before he continued. 

“i didn’t want to hurt you.” rhaegar was on his knees by now, holding your blue robes.

“i know how i can get. i know it. i know i would’ve forced you into a life you didn’t want.”

“so just scurry me to the side under the garb of care, an awfully easy excuse.”

a flash of irritation crossed rhaegar’s face. “you do not understand, the prophecy-“

“your ego is as magnanimous as the oily black stones that make the citadel. your entire sense of self is trapped within the five lines you read when you were a boy and made to believe it was for you and only you. the only time you feel ease with the shadows of your mind is when you take points of your life and bend them to fit the narrative of the eight thousand year old prophecy in a language you don’t even speak properly. did you ever stop to think how many in the past have tried the same? how many of them believe themselves to be azor ahai?”

your chest was rising up and down like a madman as you seethed. “the only time you stood up for yourself and not the identity of the prince who was promised was when you kissed me for the first time near the godswood. i threw a wrench in your plans by existing. and you were frightened by the way we completed each other. perhaps you loved me for a bit, but ultimately you kept me to bide your time with me for three years until you found a suitable match for yourself and sire three heads of a dragon who will save the world and be this all powerful messiah while you overthrow your father.”

“you are a selfish, spineless, cowardly prick of-“ rhaegar didn’t let you finish the sentence, grappling your knees and knocking you down to the myrish carpets, holding you close to him. he smelled like lilac and gooseberries.

“you weren’t a wrench,” he muttered, refusing to let go.

“and i never used you to bide my time until a, so you say, better match came up.” you sighed.

“i swear on my honor. i love you. i didn’t use you. we learned to walk together, played together, i watched you lose teeth and you saw mine, we studied together. hunted together. played as king and queen in the godswood. can a seven-year-old plot that early?”

“i know i hurt you. i know it was stupid of me to agree to that arrangement in front of you. i humiliated you. i should’ve said something. but i had plans.” he shuddered. “we…we were planning on rallying dornish support to remove the king. i intended to…take over.”

“and what does dorne have the vale doesn’t? one word from you and uncle would’ve descended our knights.”

“i didn’t have a choice…the king was set on a dornish alliance, i was merely trying to make the best of a situation. i would’ve joined the vale’s support had..had the match not been forced on me.”

putting the palm to your head. “and then?”

“i…i turned to you, only to see your face, you, you were so distraught, i….followed you, but you were gone. and i didn’t hear from you for months.” his voice broke.

“everybody told me you accepted the match happily and chatted with her.”

rhaegar had tears in his eyes. “poor elia. the…the emotions she’s seen of me. i ..i cried to her. pleaded to her and oberyn. please. to do something. they know about you. they were uncomfortable with aerys as elia’s father in law too. they convinced doran to withdraw the offer but aerys was resolute in watching the match go forth.”

rhaegar continued, “so i….i did the unthinkable.”

your heart dropped. this idiot.

“...what did you do?” 

“i broke it off.” he murmured to the floor. “i couldn’t do it. wrote to all the lords. citing my intentions for the throne. many responded…then, i ran.”

you stilled, aghast.

“did you…don’t tell me…did you start a rebellion against the crown?”

he nodded slowly.

you felt the earth shift under your feet.

what in the seven fucking hells is wrong with you? you wanted to scream.

“why?” you asked instead.

he responded, feverishly. “he burns people to death. he upsets century-long relations. he hurts my mother. he exiles my guard. he sabotages my relationships. the lords are stewing, ready to overthrow, i can’t keep seeing this. i can’t keep watching this.”

“please. besides this, i did for you. i do not want to live out my life without you by my side.”

“-but your prophecy.”

he shut his eyes, as if in pain.

“i,” he takes a deep breath, as if his lungs are shattered with glass. “heeded. to what you said. i lulled on it…when you were gone. i heard your ballads and songs…i….realised that in the quest for a future that may or may not exist, i failed to see the beauty that surrounded me in the very present moment.”

he gathers himself as he continues, “prophecies…may be true, and they mostly come true when one steers clears of them. i remembered this as i recalled everything that i’ve chased at the end has run away from me..unlike things that hold onto me for far too long when i haven’t been paying attention.” he looks at you, smiling softly.

he breathes, burying his face into your lap, “i came to the realization, after years of being away from you that, even if the prophecy doesn’t come true, i won’t base my existence off it anymore, i would, do what the realm needs me to, be a good ruler, and assure happiness..make song and love, and hope of being loved in return by the one i want.”

rhaegar notices you take his hand, and he quivers, as he continues.

he kisses your hand.

“i have come to ask you for your hand in marriage. not just as the future king of the seven kingdoms who would have the privilege of a lifetime to have you as his queen. but as the rhaegar you grew up with and made flower crowns with. who watched me play the harp over and over till my fingers bled, carved stars within the wood of the same. who snuck in food in my satchel when i disappeared to summerhall. who dreamed of running away to lys or pentos with you when all of this is over for a long vacation.”

silence. silence greets him. you seem frozen to him, looking at him with pensive eyes and a neutral face.

he softly calls out the name he had given you, indigo eyes wide, and sad, yet tinged with hope, of longing.

slowly, your face broke. it began with the eyes, slowly melting like a glacier, joining the sea of emotions that colored your face red with tears as you shook. rhaegar couldn’t help himself, his tears followed as you grabbed your robe your free hand, sobbing into your other.

he put his head in your lap, feeling your hands run across his silver-white hair, remembering how often you used to do it those nights in his chambers. and he let himself cry.

he called out your name weakly, “…please.”

you kicked him slightly, muttering a “of course i would, you fool.” before taking him in your embrace, the two of you crying within each others arms as the storm picked up.

“of course i will. i have loved you since for as long as i could remember. how could i deny you? how could i ever say no to you?”

rhaegar chuckled wetly. his dourness subsided a little as he relished in your warmth.

“i don’t have much of good memories, and despite them being only a handful, i know that, my happiness begins and ends in the shape of your face, written in the tongue of your soul.”

the winds rattle the eyrie once more.

[forestcat000]

Sooooo

This was a comment in response to me wanting an excuse to ramble about my Targaryen's survive AU so thank you @celerieth for this opportunity and thank you for the follow (:

Btw I am sorry to everyone who only follows me for aphmau content because I keep posting game of thrones stuff.

Warning, long post

So I've mentioned my AU and it's concept on my blogs before. The premise is basically all the Targaryen's survive the rebellion and kill the Baratheons, Starks, Arryns, and Tullys for their treason. Aerys remains king but I kinda stall his madness for the sake of story telling so Jaime does not kill him.

My fic starts at the same time as the Canon books except it basically only (so far) takes place in kingslanding. All the Targ kids (Aegon, Rhaenys, Daenerys, Viserys, Jon) get their own chapters, Rhaella and Elia, get them as well. Rhaegar is the only one so far without a chapter in progress.

The story mainly follows the more domestic drama and relationships between the characters so far, with everyone having to endure Aerys. But I do add in a lot of fluff for the Targ kids so it can be sweet.

Aegon is the picture perfect prince, smart, funny, kind, good looking but he has a few problems. Aegon has some pent up hatred towards Rhaegar for abandoning the family during the rebellion, this results in Aegon being more critical and distrustful of Rhaegar, viewing Rhaegar as mad for chasing a prophecy. This extra tension since Aegon is the child who Rhaegar views as the prince who was promised and thus pays extra unwanted attention to Aegon. Aegon is very close with his siblings, and mother, feeling extremely protective of them.

Rhaenys is an intelligent, witty, charming girl. Rhaenys shares Aegons feelings towards Rhaegar for the rebellion but she's much calmer and more lenient with Rhaegar, mainly because she doesn't talk to him often, he's distant and often in his head so neither cares enough to reach out. Rhaenys is loving towards her family and often tries to keep them in line, especially Daenerys. She has a slight rivalry with Daenerys but it's largely loving. She is the only one of her siblings in a relationship, she is secretly courting Willas Tyrell, heir to Highgarden.

Viserys is much nicer and calmer than in Canon since he never had to go through the trauma of being on the run and having his family die. Viserys is a loving older brother and uncle. He's a mama's boy, he tries his best to support his mother while she deals with the abuse at Aerys hand. He has a slightly odd relationship with Aerys. Aerys spared Viserys a lot of the abuse that the other family members suffered because Viserys is his favorite son, while he was saved from the physical and mental abuse he developed a guilt of sorts, feeling guilty that while his family is hurt he is safe. This guilt causes Viserys to be a bit protective and he tries to remove his family members from the area when Aerys get violent and loud.

Daenerys is reckless and chaotic but loving. She has a complicated relationship with her father. Aerys goes from doting on his daughter in every way to yelling and screaming at her at an instant, as a result Daenerys tends to avoid being around her father unless necessary. She's extremely close to Viserys with him being her safe person, kinda seeing him as a father or a caretaker more than a brother.

All the family members that have POVs are the main characters but Jon (Aemon in my rewrite) has the biggest one planned out. Jon is the last known member of the Stark family since he's Lyannas son. Jon is raised as something similar to a prisoner, being a symbol of the war and all the people the Targaryens demolished. Jon is antagonized by Aerys frequently to the point Jon loses sleep every night over the possibility of being murdered and having dreams of being burned alive by Aerys. He feels something similar to survivors guilt, believing he didn't deserve to live, and viewing his birth as the cause of the rebellion (will alaborate if needed)and as a result the cause of death of everyone who died in the rebellion, including all the Starks and his mother. Jon is extremely paranoid and fearful. Hes so paranoid that he went mute because he was scared of saying the wrong thing and being killed, his fear is intense that he can't talk if he tried, he created a mental block to stop him. he is rarely away from Aegon who he is close to, if Aegon is in a room Jon cannot go in he'll wait by the door for Aegon to come out. Jon is close with Rhaenys as well, often going to her for comfort.

That's base info, I know there's a lot, and that's just the stuff that I'm posting, I have pages of lore I'm waiting to implement.

If anyone is interested in any of this feel free to ask questions. Also thank you Celerieth.

[ladywolfmd]

The North Star & The Sword of the Morning

A Lyanna x Arthur fic based on this prompt

Even without asking, he knew where his lady would be at this time when the sun had just set.

Just a small ways at the back of the Tower of Joy was a wild bushel of blood red roses. Ever since he showed it to her to somehow give her some cheer, this was where she would go when she needed a few moments just to herself. And it was only here that Arthur would get a glimpse of a real smile from the lady he was assigned to guard with his life.

He passed by Oswell who stood a good distance away, nodding at him to be relieved while he took his usual post at night to guard his prince’s new consort.

Arthur tried his best to hold his tongue on his prince’s actions, thinking about the Princess Elia and their two children but as Prince Rhaegar had explained to him, There must be one more. And Elia and I… Targaryens have taken two wives before. Elia and I have already spoken after the Tourney. And Lyanna…

He could still remember the night Rhaegar begged him to help him take the Northern girl. He remembered because that was the first time he raised his voice and tried to convince his prince not to do it. But it was Lyanna who had managed to make him agree. He had already failed Queen Rhaella, and to some extent, he had failed Princess Elia. He would not want to add another unwilling woman into the Dragons’ nest.

Arthur shook off those thoughts because what was done was done. A war was already looming, and there was nothing to do but abide by his duty.

Besides, there she was. Young still but already becoming more and more the the beautiful and strong woman Rhaegar saw fit to crown as more than just his queen of love and beauty. And now she was round with possibly the second-in-line to the throne once Rhaegar is king.

“Ah, Ser Arthur. Is that you, I hear?” Lyanna asked without turning, fingering one of the petals.

“Yes, my princess.”

She turned then and gave him a frown. “I told you to call me Lyanna.”

Arthur half-smiled. “A pleasant sundown to you then, Princess Lyanna.”

Lyanna huffed and rolled her eyes as he chuckled but soon she joined him in laughter, patting the boulder beside her for him to sit on.

Arthur took off his helm then and placed it on the ground next to his feet and ran a hand over his hair.

“What news?” Lyanna tilted her head at him while her hands absently stroked her belly.

“I’m afraid no new ravens have come since the last.”

She looked away then and sighed. “He won’t be here in time, won’t he?”

He looked at her sadly then and nodded once. “I’m sorry.”

Silence.

Nothing but the sound of winds rustling over the few trees and plants were heard as the sky transitioned from golden to indigo, bathing them in shades of blue and purple. It was a full moon that night and cloudless, stripping the sky naked to expose the stars.

Never one to withstand the silence, Lyanna broke it. “It’s a boy.”

Arthur looked at her then. “How do you know?”

Lyanna smiled at him then serenely. “When my mother was pregnant with Benjen, she couldn’t stand the scent of leather.”

“Leather?”

She nodded,”Leather. It happened with my other brothers too. My father had a hard time of course, dealing with that as he was mostly decked with something leather that he had to improvise and bark at the household to not set so much as a yard between my mother and leather,” she laughed lightly then before frowning a little. “That wasn’t the case with me.” She looked up at him then with her lovely grey almost silver eyes shining. “I on the other hand, was the perfect babe.” She gestured with her hand, “Not a single problem at all.”

Arthur couldn’t help but smile then. “Until you came out, that is.”

Lyanna gasped and hit him truly, that it actually hurt his arm a little, yet as he rubbed his arm he kept laughing at her scowl.

She sniffed and held her chin up yet there was that hint of a smile. “Anyway, though it’s not at the same amount of aversion as my mother, being too near them does make me want to be sick. And that’s how I know.”

“Hmm…sounds plausible, considering your explanation,” he agreed turning to grin at her when his smile faded when he saw tears.

“Lyanna–

She wiped her eyes quickly then and tried to give him a wan smile but they poured all the same.

Word had already found them that Lord Stark and his heir were ordered executed by the Mad King. Robert Baratheon allied with her other brother, Ned were already on the move and it was only a matter of time until they meet with his prince somewhere in Riverrun.

He knew Lyanna was filled with guilt and sadness, but things were already set in motion. There was nothing to do but wait and face whatever battles to come. Plus she was going to have her babe soon. She had to be strong for the babe.

He unsheathed Dawn then and held it to her.

She looked up at him curiously but like the trained hand that she was, she took it with ease and admired it as she balanced it on her knee.

“You know the story of Dawn?”

She smiled then. “That only a worthy knight from House Dayne could wield it and be called the Sword of the Morning. There’s no need to gloat, Arthur.”

He chuckled. “Yes. But do you know the story behind that title as well as the name of the sword?”

She nodded at him proudly. “A falling star was tracked on the Torrentine by your house’s founder and from then, Starfall was built and there a stone that had no equal, was forged into this sword that rivaled that of the finest valyrian blade.”

He nodded then. “You know our history well.”

She beamed.

“I know a thing or two about the North as well.”

She tilted her head as she gave him back his sword. “Oh?”

He looked up the sky until he found it then and pointed. “There. How did it go? Chase the blue star in the rider’s eye and there you’ll see the Ice Dragon in the sky.”

He glanced at her and saw her looking up with her mouth slightly open but now the tears were gone so he smiled and looked back up.

“If I’m right–now please correct me if I’m not, but if you ever find yourself lost, I was told that if you want to head South, follow the dragon’s tail. But if you want to head North–”

“–you follow the Ice dragon’s blue eye - the North Star,” she finished for him.

“So in a way, my princess. You may be in the Southern lands, but whenever you feel lost, you can always go out at night and look for the North Star. The North won’t ever be lost for as long as you can see it.”

Silence for a beat and it was Arthur who broke it this time when he turned and saw Lyanna’s eyes glistening with tears once more as she looked at him. Really looked at him with those eyes of hers.

Still she didn’t say a word so he tentatively reached out, wiped her tears, and held her cheek.

“You may feel like you’re less of a Stark right now but that is false, Lyanna. Not when half a wolf grows in you and though your boy might grow up in the Dragon’s den, take him by the hand at night and show him that with your blood he could be the Ice Dragon. Which are far larger and stronger than Valyrian fire dragons.”

She smiled softly and gratefully at him then, giving him a soft nod that made him smile back. With one last brush of his thumb against her cheek, he withdrew his hand from her face and gripped her hand in his instead.

“He is as much yours as he is his. And more importantly, he is as much the North’s as he is the other kingdoms’.”

He reached behind her then and plucked one of the roses growing from the wall behind her and handed it to her. “On a lighter note,” he cleared his throat. “It’s not your winter rose, but here in the night, what is red could be blue.”

Lyanna cracked a smile then and laughed as she took it from him and looked at him gratefully, giving his hand a squeeze.

[crowkingwrites]

Sand and Snow (Ch.1)

Pairing: Jon Snow x Reader

Fic Request:  Hi love , I've admired your work for a while! It's fantastic. I was wondering if you could do a Jon Snow imagine where the reader is elia and rhaegars daughter (the mountain doesn't find her) so oberyn takes her in and loves her like his own daughter. She meets jon and they fall in love (he's just ned's bastard not lyanna and rhaegars) she goes to him when oberyn is killed and you can add in stuff and decide what all happens :) thanks in advance.

Words: 1268

Read on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12245856/chapters/27823629

“Red! Dornish Red!” the merchant shouted across the market. People were shopping for the fresh lemons havested or the warm bread baked this morning. “Dornish Red wine! Imported straight from Dorne!”

“Really? I would like to have a try,” my Uncle Oberyn said. I knew he was going to cause some trouble. I stood next to him, keeping quiet. I wanted to take in all of my surroundings. King’s Landing was a dump. I shook my head at the people here. How weak and rude they were.

“Be my guest!” the merchant poured my uncle a small sample. Although it was summer, it was not as hot here. In Dorne, the sun could cook your skin mercilessly. Here, it was tame. It was a nice break to feel the breeze from the ocean. I heard birds call over us. The smell of meats and cheeses overtook my nose. Maybe I shouldn’t be so negative.

Oberyn took a sip of the wine and spat it out. “You think this is Dornish Red? This is shit!”

“And how you would know that?” the merchant asked angrily.

“I am from Dorne. I have tasted ugly women who are sweeter than your fake wine,” Oberyn laughed and walked away with me.

“Did you have to tease him?” I asked.

“A fraud is a fraud.”

“You told me everyone in King’s Landing is a fraud,” I looked up at him. Oberyn wagged his finger in the air.

“This is true,” he chuckled for a moment. His face fell. “Which is why no one here will know who you are. Everyone is a fraud. Everyone is out to hurt you.”

“Even the Starks?” I saw their banner men near the castle. They were tall, broad, and proud men. “They’re honorable men.”

“That is what they preach,” Oberyn spoke into my ear. “Truth is, if they knew you weren’t my bastard daughter, they’d be the first to kill you in the name of good, dead King Robert Baratheon.” His words dripped like poison. I had to be careful.

I was only a baby when Robert’s Rebellion spread out across the land like a disease. War was everywhere, and when it came to Dorne it brought hatred and passion. Oberyn raised me by his own hand. On my 13th name day, he gave me the gift of knowledge.

He had told me everything. Who my mother was. Who my father was. What kind of blood ran through my veins. That the throne should be mine. That I belonged on that throne.

He brought me to King’s Landing for a reason. I wasn’t here to take anything from anyone. Oberyn never raised me to be a queen, Ellaria did. Oberyn and Ellaria told everyone that it was my time to be a part of noble society and practice diplomacy. The truth was I wanted to watch my uncle take the vengeance I spent half my life building up.

Oberyn and I walked inside the castle and saw more northern bannermen. I studied the pattern of their direwolf and noted that it was not fur that the direwolf was made of; it was steel.

“There seems to be a lot of them,” I noted.

“Preparations for the wedding, I assume,” Oberyn grabbed onto my arm tightly. “Come let’s find your mother.” Ellaria sat in the gardens next to a beautiful, young red-haired girl. She was eating lemon cakes. I could only assume it was Sansa Stark.

“Ah, Y/N,” Ellaria beamed at me. There were times I assumed I was her favorite. “Sansa, this is my daughter, Y/N. Both of you are around the same age, I believe. Come sit.” Sansa looked away from Ellaria, and what I was told was true. She was every bit like her mother. The sadness behind her eyes. The forced politeness. She was stronger than me.

“Lady Sansa,” I greeted her by taking her hands. “It is an honor to meet you. It is true what they about you. You are truly a northern rose thriving in the south.”

“That was very kind, thank you,” Sansa said.

“My lady,” Ellaria shifted the conversation. “This is Y/N’s first time in King’s Landing. I was hoping for you both to spend some time together. I hear making friends is quick work here in King’s Landing.”

“Oh, of course,” Sansa nodded. “Perhaps we could take a walk around the castle? Or the gardens?” She stood up, and in turn I took her arm. Quick friends, indeed.

“I would very much like that, thank you,” I responded. We left my aunt and uncle in the gardens and started our ladylike walk around the castle. Several guards and maidens walked past us. Some nodded our way, others wanted to listen into our conversation.

“I’m glad you were able to make it to King Joffery’s wedding to Margaery,” Sansa politely said. Her hands folded in front of her.

“You don’t have to do that. Not with me. I know,” I told her quietly. “I know about Joffery. I know what he did to you.”

“You don’t—

“I’m sorry,” I held my hands up immediately. “I didn’t mean any offense, my lady.” I held my breath. Sansa observed me. Her eyes watched my every move. She looked to her right, and took my hand.

“Follow me,” she murmured. I followed her into the private part of the castle gardens where many nobles come to pray or be at peace. It was near dinner time, so only a handful of people saw us. Tall hedges hid us away from everyone else. They were thick, so no one could walk or see through them.

“He’s a monster,” she told me. “A horrid monster, and I am to be married to his uncle. It was settled today. I still can’t believe it.” It was clear that she was seeking a friend or a confidant. She was desperate.

“I’m sorry,” my eyebrows knitted together. “I could help you.”

“No, you can’t,” Sansa said flatly. “This is marriage we’re talking about, Y/N.” Suddenly, I felt a rush of wind behind me. I turned to see three Northern banner men staring me down.

“Can I help you?” I asked them. Without warning, one of them struck with a sword and I defended myself. I counterattacked in a quick, but sloppy manner. My dagger cut the northerner in his face. I could hear Sansa scream behind me. Two soldiers quickly came up from behind me and disarmed me.

“No! Don’t!” Sansa begged at her men, but they did not listen to her. They took me away from her, and into the castle. Meanwhile, I kept calm. Why would Sansa’s own men would disobey her is beyond me. I intended to find out.

They were honorable men. They did not drag or taunt me. They simply walked me into a room without a view. The stone walls and floor gave away this room’s purpose. It was for criminals. I saw three more Northern men in the room.

“My lords,” one of the men holding me announced. “We caught her. The Dornish girl with your sister, Sansa.”

“Excuse me?” I scoffed. “I’m not just any Dornish girl. Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” I spat at the soldier.

“And who do you think you are hurting my sister like that?” a voice said. I turned to the sound to discover a brown-eyed Stark with black curls staring back at me. He was solely focused on me. His Stark crest was polished on his chest. His nostrils were flared. He was angry with me.

Fuck, he’s beautiful.

[crowkingwrites]

Sand and Snow (Ch.4)

Pairing: Jon Snow x Reader

Fic Request:  Hi love , I’ve admired your work for a while! It’s fantastic. I was wondering if you could do a Jon Snow imagine where the reader is elia and rhaegars daughter (the mountain doesn’t find her) so oberyn takes her in and loves her like his own daughter. She meets jon and they fall in love (he’s just ned’s bastard not lyanna and rhaegars) she goes to him when oberyn is killed and you can add in stuff and decide what all happens :) thanks in advance.

Words: 1469

Read on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12245856/chapters/27991656

The morning of I dressed in a golden dress like my aunt. We both had our chests open and our minds closed like a cage. I watched my uncle set his stage. Oberyn was never a soldier, but a performer. Whenever he fought, he made sure to let everyone know that fighting was a learned skill, not just swinging it.

I felt my body tense when I saw the Mountain. He was bigger than Oberyn described. Much bigger. To look upon the face of the man who killed my mother and my siblings angered me. I felt Ellaria pull me back by the back of my dress. I didn’t realize I was stepping forward. I felt such a pull to him. I wanted to crush him. I wanted him to suffer.

I wanted him to admit what he did to my family. To me.

Oberyn tossed and turned his spear until he had the Mountain right where he wanted him. He threatened him. He paced around the Mountain screaming at him. Demanding him to tell the people of King’s Landing what he did. How he murdered my family. How he raped my mother.

“Who gave the order?” he screamed. I wanted the Mountain to die. I just wanted my uncle to end it. I knew he did it. I didn’t need the Mountain to confirm it. I needed him to die. I watched his abnormally large body bleed on the stage. The audience waited with bated breath to see if he would get back up.

This was it. My uncle did it. The Mountain lay weak on his back like a turtle. All my uncle needed to do was deliver the final blow, and the show would end. I would be able to sleep at night. But he didn’t do it. Oberyn only kept pacing and pacing. Screaming and almost going mad at the idea that the Mountain was going to die without admitting his wrongs.

Then the Mountain knocked Oberyn down.

I watched him place his thumbs over his eyes. I heard my aunt shriek in terror. I smelled the blood from where I stood.

I had to go. I needed to leave. My feet carried me from the arena into the Red Keep. I wasn’t safe here anymore. I grabbed my daggers and anything I could carry, and I left. I evaded any soldier or servant in my way. I grabbed the nearest horse in the stables, and I took off.

I wasn’t safe here anymore. I felt my heart race faster and faster, matching the rhythm of horse galloping through the city. These pathetic fools were on their own. The common people had no idea who they were dealing with. My chest felt heavy. I couldn’t let it out. Not here. Not now.

Once I made it to the borders of King’s Landing, I spotted two northern travelers. They made snide remarks about the Red Viper and how the Mountain crushed his beady little eyes in. He was laughing about it. I was on my own. I decided what the law was.

I trailed them with my horse for four miles until they stopped. Once they did, I took what supplies I could from them. Like a snake, I crawled in the grass and drew blood from their throats until they fell like dead mice. Silent and worthless.

Cersei would be after me, so would my aunt Ellaria. I stripped my Dornish clothing and took the northerner’s clothing. It didn’t fit perfectly, but it would have to do. I had to find the only one I could trust right now.

I loved my aunt Ellaria, but she could be dead at any time. My Uncle Doran was a weak man, he would die soon as well. Jon Snow was the only person to ever shown me kindness outside my family. The more I thought about him, the more my heart swelled. It is said that the Dornish feel love harder than anyone else. I wasn’t sure if I loved him, but the bastard had a hold on me.

The ride towards the Vale was rough and filled with thieves. By the time I arrived at the Vale, I was covered in cuts and I had no water. I nearly collapsed when I saw Vale knights head for my horse. I felt my body being carried into the castle and then something warm.

I woke in a bed that had many furs thrown over it. I sat up immediately and went to grab the nearest weapon I could find.

“Y/N, it’s me. You’re okay,” Jon reached out for my arm. Once I saw his brown eyes look into mine, I let everything go. All of the sadness. The anger. The exhaustion. I let the tears pour out of my eyes like a flooding river. I lost my breath, and Jon’s arms embraced me. He held onto me tightly. “Y/N, I only just heard yesterday. I’m so sorry. I’m here.”

Words escaped me. How can you explain loss? It hurts in a new way every single time.

“Jon,” I began. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to go.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he smiled at me. “You don’t have to explain anymore.”

“Yes I do, you don’t understand,” I straightened myself in the bed. I looked down and noticed y disguise was gone and replaced with better-fit comfy clothing. The fabric was thick, and I noted the small direwolf stitched in the collar. He cared about me.

“What don’t I understand?” Jon asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“There was a reason I went to King’s Landing with my uncle. I’m afraid I haven’t told you the complete truth about my circumstances,” I took a deep breath. I could trust Jon. He was honorable and he was kind. “I am no bastard. All my life, I pretended to be my uncle’s bastard daughter with Ellaria. The truth is, my mother was Elia Martell. My father was Rhaegar Targaryen. I am the true-born heir to the seven kingdoms.”

The weight of hiding the truth lifted from my shoulders. Jon sat in front of me completely in silence. His eyes shifted back and forth, but his breathing was steady.

“I believe you, Y/N,” Jon told me, taking my hand. “Your uncle would not have died in that arena if you were not the true born daughter of Elia.” I wrapped my arms around him, kissing him on the cheek. He slowly pushed me away, and knelt to the ground in front of me. He took out his father’s sword, Ice, and put it front of him.

“Jon?”

“Y/N, from this day forth and forever, I am bound to you,” he said. He looked straight at me, never wavering. “I vow my sword, my heart, and my soul to you.”

“Your heart? Your soul?” I gasped, straightening up.

“I have seen enough of King’s Landing to know who truly belongs there,” his hand tightened on Ice. “My father died for the cause. My brother fought and died for that same cause. Your uncle protected you for that cause. I will follow their path. I will put the right queen on throne.” I found it hard to breathe.

“The right queen?”

“Don’t you see you’re meant to lead?”

“You barely know who I am, Snow,” I quickly defended myself.

“The eyes see one thing, but the heart sees another,” Jon replied. “I can see that you are more than a Dornish girl. You are meant for more than this. You must know that.” He saw right through me. I was never going to sit and live my days with my lazy Dornish family. Jon waited for me to say something anything.

“Do you truly believe I am meant to be queen?” I asked him.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be kneeling in front of you, Y/N,” he said sincerely. “Let me protect you. Let me serve you.”

“I will,” I didn’t need to think about it. Jon made me feel powerful. I knew I was, but I would be better with him at my side. He stood up as my protector.

“What will you have me do, my queen?” Jon asked me. I felt my heart swell again, and I wrapped my arms around him. My lips met his. I moved against him, and he met my passion with his own. I didn’t feel alone in the world anymore. Our lips kept moving against one another until I was out of breath. I separated from him but I could barely open my eyes. Our noses touched.

“Stay by my side, promise me,” I demanded him. Jon’s forehead touched mine. My hands caressed the sides of his face, feeling his warm skin and beard.

“I promise, my queen.”

[ladywolfmd]

Can you write some arthur/lyanna (friends or more idc 😊)

This is hard and it’s a first but I’ll give it a shot. Thanks nonny! 

                                                    ~ o ~

The North Star  and The Sword of the Morning

Even without asking, he knew where his lady would be at this time when the sun had just set. 

Just a small ways at the back of the Tower of Joy was a wild bushel of blood red roses. Ever since he showed it to her to somehow give her some cheer, this was where she would go when she needed a few moments just to herself. And it was only here that Arthur would get a glimpse of a real smile from the lady he was assigned to guard with his life. 

He passed by Oswell who stood a good distance away, nodding at him to be relieved while he took his usual post at night to guard his prince’s new consort. 

Arthur tried his best to hold his tongue on his prince’s actions, thinking about the Princess Elia and their two children but as Prince Rhaegar had explained to him, There must be one more. And Elia and I… Targaryens have taken two wives before. Elia and I have already spoken after the Tourney. And Lyanna…

He could still remember the night Rhaegar begged him to help him take the Northern girl. He remembered because that was the first time he raised his voice and tried to convince his prince not to do it. But it was Lyanna who had managed to make him agree. He had already failed Queen Rhaella, and to some extent, he had failed Princess Elia. He would not want to add another unwilling woman into the Dragons’ nest. 

Arthur shook off those thoughts because what was done was done. A war was already looming, and there was nothing to do but abide by his duty. 

Besides, there she was. Young still but already becoming more and more the the beautiful and strong woman Rhaegar saw fit to crown as more than just his queen of love and beauty. And now she was round with possibly the second-in-line to the throne once Rhaegar is king. 

“Ah, Ser Arthur. Is that you, I hear?” Lyanna asked without turning, fingering one of the petals. 

“Yes, my princess.” 

She turned then and gave him a frown. “I told you to call me Lyanna.” 

Arthur half-smiled. “A pleasant sundown to you then, Princess Lyanna.” 

Lyanna huffed and rolled her eyes as he chuckled but soon she joined him in laughter, patting the boulder beside her for him to sit on. 

Arthur took off his helm then and placed it on the ground next to his feet and ran a hand over his hair. 

“What news?” Lyanna tilted her head at him while her hands absently stroked her belly. 

“I’m afraid no new ravens have come since the last.”

She looked away then and sighed. “He won’t be here in time, won’t he?”

He looked at her sadly then and nodded once. “I’m sorry.” 

Silence. 

Nothing but the sound of winds rustling over the few trees and plants were heard as the sky transitioned from golden to indigo, bathing them in shades of blue and purple. It was a full moon that night and cloudless, stripping the sky naked to expose the stars. 

Never one to withstand the silence, Lyanna broke it. “It’s a boy.” 

Arthur looked at her then. “How do you know?” 

Lyanna smiled at him then serenely. “When my mother was pregnant with Benjen, she couldn’t stand the scent of leather.” 

“Leather?” 

She nodded,”Leather. It happened with my other brothers too. My father had a hard time of course, dealing with that as he was mostly decked with something leather that he had to improvise and bark at the household to not set so much as a yard between my mother and leather,” she laughed lightly then before frowning a little. “That wasn’t the case with me.” She looked up at him then with her lovely grey almost silver eyes shining. “I on the other hand, was the perfect babe.” She gestured with her hand, “Not a single problem at all.” 

Arthur couldn’t help but smile then. “Until you came out, that is.” 

Lyanna gasped and hit him truly, that it actually hurt his arm a little, yet as he rubbed his arm he kept laughing at her scowl. 

She sniffed and held her chin up yet there was that hint of a smile. “Anyway, though it’s not at the same amount of aversion as my mother, being too near them does make me want to be sick. And that’s how I know.” 

“Hmm…sounds plausible, considering your explanation,” he agreed turning to grin at her when his smile faded when he saw tears. 

“Lyanna–

She wiped her eyes quickly then and tried to give him a wan smile but they poured all the same. 

Word had already found them that Lord Stark and his heir were killed by the Mad King. Robert Baratheon allied with his other brother, Ned were already on the move and it was only a matter of time until they meet with his prince somewhere in Riverrun. 

He knew Lyanna was filled with guilt and sadness, but things were already set in motion. There was nothing to do but wait and face whatever battles to come. Plus she was going to have her babe soon. She had to be strong for the babe. 

He unsheathed Dawn then and held it to her. 

She looked up at him curiously but like the trained hand that she was, she took it with ease and admired it as she balanced it on her knee. 

“You know the story of Dawn?” 

She smiled then. “That only a worthy knight from House Dayne could wield it and be called the Sword of the Morning. There’s no need to gloat, Arthur.”

He chuckled. “Yes. But do you know the story behind that title as well as the name of the sword?”

She nodded at him proudly. “A falling star was tracked on the Torrentine by your house’s founder and from then, Starfall was built and there a stone that had no equal, was forged into this sword that rivaled that of the finest valyrian blade.” 

He nodded then. “You know our history well.” 

She beamed. 

“I know a thing or two about the North as well.”

She tilted her head as she gave him back his sword. “Oh?” 

He looked up the sky until he found it then and pointed. “There. How did it go? Chase the blue star in the rider’s eye and there you’ll see the Ice Dragon in the sky.”

He glanced at her and saw her looking up with her mouth slightly open but now the tears were gone so he smiled and looked back up. 

“If I’m right–now please correct me if I’m not, but if you ever find yourself lost, I was told that if you want to head South, follow the dragon’s tail. But if you want to head North–”

“–you follow the Ice dragon’s blue eye - the North Star,” she finished for him. 

“So in a way, my princess. You may be in the Southern lands, but whenever you feel lost, you can always go out at night and look for the North Star. The North won’t ever be lost for as long as you can see it.”

Silence for a beat and it was Arthur who broke it this time when he turned and saw Lyanna’s eyes glistening with tears once more as she looked at him. Really looked at him with those eyes of hers. 

Still she didn’t say a word so he tentatively reached out, wiped her tears, and held her cheek. 

“You may feel like you’re less of a Stark right now but that is false, Lyanna. Not when half a wolf grows in you and though your boy might grow up in the Dragon’s den, take him by the hand at night and show him that with your blood he could be the Ice Dragon. Which are far larger and stronger than Valyrian fire dragons.” 

She smiled softly and gratefully at him then, giving him a soft nod that made him smile back. With one last brush of his thumb against her cheek, he withdrew his hand from her face and gripped her hand in his instead. 

“He is as much yours as he is his. And more importantly, he is as much the North’s as he is the other kingdom’s.” 

He reached behind her then and plucked one of the roses growing from the wall behind her and handed it to her. “On a lighter note,” he cleared his throat. “It’s not your winter rose, but here in the night, what is red could be blue.” 

Lyanna cracked a smile then and laughed as she took it from him and looked at him gratefully, giving his hand a squeeze. 

Send me a pairing + an AU setting and I’ll write short fic.