#its like jaime losing his hand COULD have been the moment he decided to change

[grennseyelashes]

Ohohoo wait what is this..??

I would have done better to challenge Raff the Sweetling, with a whore upon my back, Jaime thought as he shook mud off his gilded hand. Part of him wanted to tear the thing off and fling it in the river. It was good for nothing, and the left was not much better.

Who else flings things in rivers hmm let me see. Oh yes it's little left-handed Arya, who disarmed a vicious prince and threw his sword away, and who later kills Raff the Sweetling herself in the guise of a "whore", after Jaime made sure that Raff ended up back in a position of power. A murder which is, although perfectly reasonable lbr, continuing to nudge Arya down the path of killing for revenge rather than to create justice, as she's traumatised and alone in a world full of people who don't give a shit. Such as Jaime.

[wackygoofball]

Moodboard - Jaime x Brienne: Modern-day Pirates AU

When the crew of the Brightroar heads out for the next job Tyrion got them, Jaime and Bronn think that this will be a piece of cake: Wriggle the guns around in front of some suit and ties and construction workers on a base for water energy in the Narrow Sea. Their client wants them to deliver some documents of the rivaling company. So really, no big deal for this not exactly legal delivery company traveling the Narrow Sea for many years already.

That is until they find out that the documents are stored on a server and the only person who knows the password who happens to be on the base is some mannish assistant normally working at the HQ who was sent there to oversee the operations. And that woman has the audacity not to turn the passwords over, even when Jaime holds a gun to her head.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be messing with the man holding a gun to your head.”

“But I don’t know how bad your aim actually is if you have to hold it right to my head.”

“I am the best shooter across the Narrow Sea, bitch.”

“Didn’t you know? Some people just like to overpraise a name.”

The woman won’t budge, and Jaime is about to lose his temper with her. Not knowing what else to do, the two decide to take the woman hostage aboard the Brightroar to negotiate with the woman’s boss. Tyrion wants to trade the hostage for the codes to access the documents to give to their customer. But that solid plan won’t float either: When Tyrion calls the boss for the negotiations, the man basically tells him calmly and politely that this woman’s life is not worth the access codes.

And people say they are bad people for acting as modern-day pirates.

And so, they have documents they can’t access, a woman tied up under deck who is way too comfortable with someone threatening to kill her, and a client growing impatient. So no, this is definitely not a piece of cake.

If all of that wasn’t bad enough, Jaime soon finds himself playing watchdog for the mannish woman who is not nearly as afraid of him as she definitely should be. After all, he is a convicted murderer. Fine, it was Aerys Targaryen, but for all the people know, he murdered this poor guy in cold blood.

If only they knew how hot their blood would have been, had he not taken the shot.

But those days lie behind him. Military service lies behind him. The court hearing. The discharge. Keeping his mouth shut about what sleeps underneath the capital. Prison lies behind him. The Brave Companions fucking up his shooting hand to make him “One Hand” lie behind him. Everything is behind him. There is just living from one day to the next, doing the jobs they do. But at the very least, there is a blue sky above him and no prison bars to cling on to.

Then the unexpected happens: The woman manages to use a moment of distraction to break free, kick Jaime where it really hurts, and disarm him. Him! The infamous One Hand!

“What a bitch!”

The woman makes it back on deck, where she is cornered by Bronn and a very, very pissed Jaime, who definitely wants to throw her overboard, not only for kicking him but also for having the audacity to disarm him.

The woman demands to speak to the captain to make a deal, perfectly ignoring his threats. To Jaime’s surprise, his little brother agrees to speak to her alone almost promptly. After what feels like an eternity, the two return with an even more shocking announcement:

“Let’s welcome our newest crew member, guys! Give it up for your crew mate Brienne.”

Apparently, she made a deal with Tyrion, arguing that since she saw how little her life is worth to the boss she worked for for many years, she no longer wants to live that life. She wants their client to have the documents to screw up her boss’s business. Her one condition is that they make it seem like she was killed, so that she can start a new life.

Jaime makes sure to make her new life living hell, though. Every shitty errand job there is, he sends her to. Mopping the floors and getting the boring watching jobs on assignments. He wants her to leave, he wants her to see the shitty reality of their fucked-up lives and how that fucked-up life definitely has no space for people like her.

But she won’t quit. She is not quiet about her discontent either, but Brienne is no quitter, he will have to give the stubborn woman that much. Though that doesn’t mean he wants to be friendly with her. Because nothing about this woman makes sense. She is masterful at combat, which Brienne proves soon enough on their upcoming assignments, and yet, she acts high and mighty, talking about honor and all that shit. He just can’t make sense of her.

And Jaime long since learned his lesson not to trust anyone.

He finds out the truth soon enough on an assignment with just the two of them, though: The whole thing was a fake. Brienne was their client who ordered the documents, while a friend of the family called Goodwin acted the part of her calm and polite boss.

“Why would someone fuck up her life like that?”

“Because I have a purpose. And nothing will stop me from it. Even if I have to bring a little shit like you a beer while he is taking a piss off the railing.”

As it turns out, Tyrion figured as much once he found out that the company they were meant to destroy by turning over the documents is actually her late father’s business. She went with her mother’s maiden name to stay under the radar and primed herself as the hostage to be taken aboard Brightroar. Tyrion didn’t realize until she was onboard, though.

Apparently, Brienne made big news back in the day when she was charged for having murdered Renly Baratheon. While there was not enough evidence to prove that his former assistant killed him, Brienne since has to live with the stigma of being considered as the person who murdered him. And she won’t let that stand. She loved that man. She never could have killed him.

She tried to hire the crew as herself in an effort to find the man she thinks is responsible for Renly’s death: his own brother Stannis alongside his assistant Melisandre. But Tyrion refused to take her case the first time, so Brienne sought out more desperate measures to gain access to his resources. And so, she devised this plan to get herself right to the source, which is the Brightroar.

Brienne needs someone who has access to the underworld to dig up the man who disappeared into it shortly after Renly died. When she told Tyrion that during the hostage situation, the captain agreed to have her stay under the condition that she makes herself useful on the Brightroar for the duration of her stay. In exchange, he arranges for meetings and gathers information at her behest.

“And once I have the information I need, you can rejoice, because I will be out of here and go after Stannis. And you won’t ever see me again.”

Jaime is not at all pleased to hear that. He doesn’t like being lied to, obviously. And while, of course, he couldn’t care less for this woman, Jaime knows it is a dangerous path into the underworld. Not only because people don’t hesitate to shoot you in the face. It does something to you. It changes you. And someone who is so hellbent on justice, as that woman definitely is, will not thrive in the darkness. Jaime cautions her that she still has a chance to live a life in misery to return to, but Brienne remains steadfast.

“In contrast to some, I keep my promises.”

And so, the two agree to a truce, whereby Jaime won’t involve himself in her revenge and Brienne has his confidence as his partner in crime for as long as she happens to work on the Brightroar.

But that fragile truce continues to be shaken by revelations, growing feelings, a dangerous attraction, and the impending danger of the past coming to haunt the present as someone found out about what Jaime wanted to take with him to a grave in the deep blue sea…

————————————————

Note: This is vaguely inspired by Black Lagoon - but really just vaguely when it comes to the premise and the irresistible connection between Revy as Two Hands and Jaime as One Hand (c’mon, y’all know I had to do it). Though I am definitely turning it on its head. And if you want to treat yourself, read and watch Black Lagoon. It’s dark and great at portraying truly flawed characters.

[brucewaynehastoomanykids]

Ideal Night

Request from @ravenfan1242 : "I would love a story where Superboy moves into the tower and Damian is struggling with his feelings for Raven. Con who flirts with everyone thinks Raven is absolutely beautiful but she has such an opposite (he might say frigid) personality. Until she helps him with something deep he struggles with and all of a sudden Damian has competition. And hilarity and make rivalry ensues. But Raven also has strong, hidden feelings for Damian."

_____________________________________

"Chin up, princess, or the crown slips." A voice purred above me.

I mentally groaned as I closed my book and looked up at the boy hovering over me. "You really are just so infuriating, Connor." I say plainly.

Connor only smirked. "Missing something?" He said, pointing next to me.

I looked down to see that my phone had been snatched from my side. I was surprised I hadn't noticed its absence, but then again, it's not like I was very attached to it, and I was a little too invested in my book.

I thought back to what Damian had told me just a few days ago after I had accidentally dumped into him in the hallway leading to my room: he had told me that, when I wanted to be, I wasn't very observant of my surroundings. I had thought he was just being bitter that I had bumped into him, but now I suppose he was right.

Oh, there I go again, thinking about Damian. I think I'm only now starting to fully come to the realization that I have feelings for him. Of course, I can't act on them, Damian obviously seems to feel the complete opposite with his judgemental remarks and slight glares in my direction. Though it will admit, there is something a little off with his inner emotions, like he's struggling to realize something. I try not to pry too much into people's emotions without their permission, but with him, it's sometimes unavoidable. His emotions and thoughts are simply too loud to ignore at times.

But even so, if I could act on my emotions, how would I even do it? I've never felt something like this before, and if I'm being honest, it's a little frightening, because part of me doesn't know how to handle it... which leads me to the question of should I even act on my emotions if that's the case? What if I do and I lose control? Ugh, enough of that now. Just see what Connor wants.

"Can you please explain to me why my phone is gone?" I asked with a cocked brow.

Connor let a small, devious smirk form across his lips as he held said cellular device up and waved it slightly. He leaned his body over the couch, wrapping his arms around me and holding my phone to my face.

"I was just gonna be like 'hey, can I take a picture of you,'" he unlocked my phone to a rather embarrassing photo of me from the day prior. I had fallen asleep reading, my head rested on my palm, mouth slightly ajar as my book seemed to slowly fall from my lap, "But I couldn't wake that cute little face of yours."

I raised an eyebrow once more. "And you couldn't have just taken this photo on your own phone because...?"

"I need a favor and I knew you wouldn't do it unless I blackmailed you." He pulled the phone away and set it in his pocket. "See, I got that picture set to post to social media with just the touch of a button. But if you do me a solid, beautiful, I'll give you both your phone and delete the picture."

Curse Garfield and Jaime for showing him how modern technology works. I couldn't just let this side, I should try to get out of this.

"Or I could just grab my phone from you and delete it myself."

"Ahh, see," he wiggled a finger in my face, "I knew you'd try something like that. Which is why I also have this on my own phone. The same phone that I actually don't have in the Tower at the moment for this particular reason."

I rolled my eyes. I was getting tired of his games. "If I do whatever you want will you please just leave me alone?" This earned me a goofy closed smile and a nod. I sighed. "Well, what is it?"

It was then Connor's face changed from its usual playful expression to a serious one. "I've been living with this nice couple, Jon and Martha Kent, for a while now..." he looked down at the ground, seeming a bit embarrassed of what he was about to say, "I wanted to let them know how thankful I was for them letting me in like I was their own son, so, I planned a dinner... and I, um..." he rubbed the back of his neck, "I kinda told them you were my date."

I sighed, holding the bridge of my nose between my fingers. Sure, I was shocked, but I also remembered who I was talking to, so it wasn't as large as a surprise.

"Why in the world would you tell them that?" I scolded.

"Because I think it should be true." Connor purred.

I rolled my eyes. "Pass. Post the photo if you'd like, and take my phone." I began to pick up my book and continue to read before a hand took it from me, I sent a glare in Connor's direction.

"Oh, come on, Rae, just pretend to be my date if you have to, please!" He pleaded.

I let out a sigh in defeat, seeing that it was obvious I wasn't going to get out of this any time soon. "Fine."

Connor's usual childish grin returned as he began to happily walk away, returning my book to me. "Great! Be ready by 6, babe!"

I cringed at the name, but I couldn't help but admit this dinner is a very kind and humble gesture to his semi-adoptive parents. I had never thought to see Connor this way, honestly. It was a nice side of him to see.

I grabbed my discarded book and began to resume my place in it when I heard the doors to the main area open again. This time, it was Damian, who had seemingly just finished his usual training session, judging by the sweat on his face and the water bottle in hand.

"Superboy seems to be somehow more unbearable than usual today," Damian commented once he had noticed my presence, "as I was leaving the training area, he had this stupid smile on his face as if he had just won all the wealth in the world."

Damian came and sat next to me as I chuckled slightly, setting my book aside, "Well, that's probably because of this stupid favor I'm forced to make for him."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Favor?" His voice laced slightly with anger. I couldn't understand the reasoning behind the sudden temper, but I decided to ignore it.

"To make a semi-long story short, Connor wanted to have dinner with Jon and Martha Kent as a thank you for their kindness towards him this past year, and..." I let out a long sigh, "and I am his date."

Damian's eyes widened for a moment before returning to normal. I could feel his aura shift from it's usual state to something more mellow and... sad? Surely he wasn't actually upset by this, I must be going insane.

"I see," He said plainly, "I hope you enjoy yourself, then." His response came out slow and calculated, and it didn't match the emotion his inner self was feeling. Maybe he had forgotten I was an empath. Either way, my abilities have often made him out to be a bad liar, even though I rarely call him out on it to save the drama. I was about to ask him what was wrong when he walked away without a second glance, his body tense, and his head lowered.

~

The evening came and went. Jonathan and Martha Kent were two of the kindest souls I have ever laid eyes on, I couldn't help but smile in their presence. Though, it was strange to pretend to be interested in Connor, especially when the question 'is this your girlfriend' came up. But, I will admit, I enjoyed myself. I never thought I'd see the day I actually enjoy Connor's company as much as I had tonight, but I suppose even the impossible can happen.

We flew home in silence for a moment before Connor began to speak.

"So... that wasn't too bad, right?" He asked shyly.

I smiled. "No, no it wasn't, I really enjoyed myself."

He let out a breath. "Good, good. Remind me when we land I'll give..."

I looked next to me to see Connor was no longer flying beside me. He had stopped to look at the night sky. Dozens of stars danced and winced at the world below. This high above ground, you could see all the colors the stars had to share. Some green, some blue, white, yellow, and so on. It truly made the night sky a beautiful sight.

Connor let out another sigh. "This is just perfect, y'know? Is this Heaven? 'Cause it feels like Heaven."

I giggled playfully. "I suppose with me here it would make it more like Hell."

He let out a laugh. "Oh, so the 'daughter of darkness' does have a sense of humor. I'm shocked."

I rolled my eyes. "And it is a real shame nobody asked for that opinion." This earned us a shared laugh.

"Listen, Rae..." Connor's voice suddenly became serious, "before we actually head back, there's something I need to tell you..."

I turned my body to face him, giving him a worried expression. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, nothing wrong per se, it's just... the real reason I made you come to this dinner was for you to see that I, um... well I actually have a bit of a crush on ya, babe. I-I mean, I know I flirt around and stuff but there's just somethin' about you..."

I huffed a smile, attempting to lighten his nervousness. "Crushing hard I see..."

"You have no idea... it's just weird, you see. 'Cause, and I mean no offense, honestly, but you're not usually my type to go for a serious relationship. Our personalities are obviously a little more than opposite, but that somehow makes my feelings stronger, I guess..."

I let out a laugh, "Trust me, I'm shy and antisocial at first, but I feel as though I do the stupidest things when I'm around someone I'm comfortable with, I just try to contain it as best as possible for... reasons..."

"In any case..." he grabbed my hand, "I just want it to be you and me against the world, babe. So, do you... maybe, wanna grab a coffee sometime? Y'know... have a real date?"

I let out a sigh, releasing his hand and flowing away from him slightly. "I would, but there are other factors in the way. The first one being... well, there's no easy way to say this without hurting your feelings... I have feelings for someone else."

"But let me ask you this beautiful: do you think you have a chance with me?" Connor looked at me with determined eyes.

"Honestly, Connor, with how you've been acting lately... I do see a relationship with you working... sure you can be annoying and flirty but looking past that side of you, you're very caring and sweet." I smiled.

"Well, then my advice to you is this, Rae: if you love two people at the same time, choose the second because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn't have fallen for the second."

I let out a small groan, putting my head between my hands. "That's the thing, Connor. While I am starting to develop some sort of feelings towards you... I don't necessarily love you. And this person... I definitely love..." I turned to face Connor once more, "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression on that regard... but that's not the only factor. The factor of all factors... the reason I can't pursue a relationship with either of you, is who I am. My powers, while can be a blessing and a curse, are too powerful to not be handled with delicately. They are fueled by my emotions... and if I happen to feel too much--"

"Boom..." Connor finished sadly, "Look, I understand, Rae. It's just... are you doing this for the protection of me and this mystery guy, or for yourself? Is this something that you want to do? Because the way I see it, if you really love this guy, you'll make the sacrifice for him."

Connor reached into his pocket, pulled out my phone, and deleted the picture before returning it to me.

"Just... think about it, alright?" Connor said, beginning to fly away from me. "I'll meet you back at the tower..."

I watched as his figure disappeared from my eyesight before heading off myself. I felt guilty. I hurt Connor, I know I did, and I couldn't help but feel bad about it. He didn't deserve it... he just wants love, too... though, I couldn't help but wonder if he were right about me having to make the sacrifice for Damian. Though, I decided I shouldn't think about it now, and began focusing on making my way home.

~

When I had arrived back at the tower, it was late at night. Damian seemed to had just returned from his usual nightly patrol around Jump City. He was still in uniform, mask, and everything. He sat on the couch as if he were waiting on my arrival like an angered parent who just caught their child sneaking back into the house. Though, essentially, that was what I was doing. Still, it didn't explain his angered expression.

"What's the matter with you?" I asked quietly, afraid to wake anyone nearby.

"You and Kent seemed to be rather close this evening. Anything you care to share?" He raised an eyebrow through his mask.

"The better question is why the hell where are you stalking us? Wait, how did you even stalk us? Connor would've heard your heartbeat." I furrowed my eyes at him.

He matched my expression. "I kept my distance for that same reason."

His response only really ticked me off more, but I decided it would be better to keep my cool and answer his question. "No, Damian, I have nothing to share with you."

Silence filled the room for a moment before Damian seemed to finally snap.

"Why the hell would you go through with his nonsense, Raven?!" He yelled, standing from his seat and turning his whole body in my direction.

I remained blank-faced, nonetheless. "It's not like he would leave me alone until I agreed anyway, after all, it's people like him that deserve a high five with a chair... but maybe I just wanted to go with him, since when is that such a crime?"

"It is when you don't even like him!"

"Could you refrain from yelling, people are trying to sleep, you know."

"I'm not yelling, I'm discussing with you!"

"Yeah, with a loud voice. That means your yelling... oh, for the love of--just tell me what your problem is, Damian?" I said, putting a hand on my hip.

He lowered his tone. "Nothing's wrong."

"Obviously there is or else you wouldn't have followed us, and you wouldn't be freaking out the way you are."

He let out a loud groan, grabbing strains of hair between his fingers. He paced the room like this for a moment before dramatically bringing his hands down and yelling, "I really like you!" His eyes widened in what seemed to be shocked at himself and his own words then, "Um... I didn't mean to blurt it out like that."

I looked at him with my own sense of shock. "There's no way that's true, Damian." I awkwardly let out a laugh.

Damian sighed and walked up to me, his eyes softened. "No, no, it's true. I've loved you ever since I got to know you, I just hadn't fully realized or accepted it until recently--and even if you don't feel the same, I'm willing to accept that, too. But the truth is, I think about you all the time, and I have these feelings that I still don't quite understand about you, it's freaking annoying, to say the least."

I smirked. "Well, I'd hate to be such an annoyance to you, Damian."

He rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be sarcastic about it."

I shrugged. "It's recently kind of my thing."

He closed his eyes tight and sighed out a loud 'anyways' before opening his eyes back to their soft state. "I'm obviously not the person you want in your life... but you should know I'll still kill him if he hurts you."

"Yes, you are!" I assured him quickly before he could walk off. "When I was with Connor earlier, I admit, I had a good time, and I got the privilege to see a side of him I never see... but when he admitted his own feelings to me, I turned him down because I simply don't love him, but I do love you."

Damian smiled. It was then I realized how much his aura made sense. He was conflicted over his feelings, and now that he's not? It glows and shines again like nothing ever happened.

He closed his eyes and leaned. I panicked and backed away from him. "Which leads me to the next reason I turned him down... and will more likely be the reason I turn you down: my powers, my abilities... they're uncontrollable if I feel too much. I've been forced to live a life of mellowness all my life, and to suddenly change that now for love? An emotion I still don't quite understand? It's too risky... and I'd never forgive myself if I accidentally hurt you or anyone else with my own emotions."

"Raven," Damain came at me with a soft, reassuring tone, "you tell me you don't understand the feeling, but neither do I. We both need to figure things out for ourselves and who better to do it with than with ourselves. I don't know much about love, or romance, but I do know, from both watching Grayson and my own mother flaunt over my father, that it does demand sacrifices and risks."

It was then I had remembered what Connor told me before he left: "... are you doing this for the protection of me and this mystery guy, or for yourself?"

Both, I decided. I don't want either of them to get hurt because of me, but it's my own fears that cause this want to protect them. Fears of what could happen to me, and my team.

"Is this something that you want to do?"

No, absolutely not. I want to love, I want to feel love and to be in love.

"Because the way I see it, if you really love this guy, you'll make the sacrifice for him."

And so I will, Connor. Thank you.

I looked at Damian once more with a small smile creeping on my face. "Alright, Damian. Let's take a risk."

Damian smiled a rare, almost goofy smile. "Well, if that's the case, I should court you formally:" he cleared his throat, "Do you want to--I mean if you're not busy... go get lunch tomorrow? Or even just coffee this morning, if you want, or--"

I placed a hand over his mouth. "There's no need for courting, but your answer is still a yes," I removed my hand, "and I have a feeling we should kiss now."

And, of course, that's exactly what we did. A few household items began to float above their original place, but we didn't care. In the end, it was an ideal night.

_____________________________________

So I know that this was more Conrae than it was Damirae but whateves I really liked writing this one.

Also sorry for the late updates. For some reason, my Wattpad decided it just wasn't gonna let me write for a few days and I felt like it wasn't fair to post on here and not there. Anyways, just got it working again so we'll see how long this lasts I guess.🤷🏻‍♀️

[writingthrones]

the northern dragon- part 7.

PART 7: A CELEBRATION.

TAGS: @psychosupernatural , @xleviiiix , @ashtronomyyyy , @starkbelova,@5aftermidnight , @makapaka11 , @mxxkscreate-write , @scorpiosmalfoy,@harrison-shot-first , @art-flirt , @jessyballet , @vaexvictis ,@callmeconceited , @cassiopeia-barrow , @the-three-eyed-ravenclaw , @iirelynn , @aspiring-fangirls-world , @emmaelizabeth2014 (feel free to shoot me a message if you’d also like to be tagged!)

DESCRIPTION: the world thought that just 2 dragons survived, that house targaryen was missing its third head. but there was another– the youngest, the final child of the mad king and queen rhaella. of course, she was almost part of the near extermination of her house. but the honorable ned stark, unable to watch a babe be murdered for crimes she did not commit, rescued her from an awful fate. instead, she grew up amongst wolves within the walls of winterfell.

NOTES: this chapter was so much fun to write wow. i hope y’all enjoy, it’s a bit longer than usual, too. as you know by now, feedback is very much appreciated!

WARNINGS: ANGST ANGST ANGST, things getting a little steamy.

First, I must tell you why I need to leave. I should have long before this and I suspect you will agree. My name, my true name, is Visenya II Targaryen and I am the youngest child of the Mad King. How did I end up as a ward to your father? Well, he is truly the best man I’ve ever known. He risked everything to save me. If not for him, I would’ve been slain in the arms of my mother the Queen. I was lucky to have been welcomed with open arms by your mother. I was lucky to have known them at all and trust me when I say that I mourn them as you do.

Second, with this being my last word to you I must be honest. I love you, Robb Stark. I always have, before I even understood what love was. All our lives I wondered: if I never had to hide myself, would you have loved me, too? I didn’t let myself dream for too long before realized even then that wouldn’t be possible. A Targaryen and a Stark, really? My father did awful things to your family, no amount of noble blood could change that hurt. So I suppose it was just never meant to be.

Lastly, I am so sorry for all that has happened. I do not understand the pain of losing the ones you love more than anything. But I will not apologize for saving your life even if it’s not what you wanted. You are a king and your people are counting on you. I truly want nothing more than for them to be granted their freedom. Sansa and Arya are counting on you. Please, if you will, tell them that I love them. But I must go. Jaime Lannister discovered who I was the night he escaped. I already stayed too long and put you at risk. If anyone found out that the King in the North was harboring a Targaryen, I know it could mean disaster. I’m sorry for putting you in this kind of danger. I will not be a burden any longer, though. I’m not quite sure where I will go, maybe across the sea, as far as I can get away from this place.

Now burn this letter. I do not want it to end up in the wrong hands.

Farewell.

- Y/N

CONTINUED THIRD PERSON.

So the Young Wolf sat there, mouth actually hanging open with astonishment. There’s just no way this could be true.. right? His father, saving a Targaryen girl? The idea sounded ridiculous at first but the more he thought on it, the more it made sense. He could understand his father seeing an innocent babe and being unable to just walk away. He was nothing like the former King Robert in that aspect. He had never known the full details of what happened when they took King’s Landing but he did know that children were murdered as part of it.

His body felt numb and it felt impossible to move. A lot of information had just been thrown at him; he had grown up with a Targaryen princess, whose identity had been discovered by the Kingslayer, she was headed Gods know where and she.. loved him? All her life, apparently. How could that be and he just never knew? He quickly shook away the thoughts, instead focusing on the more pressing matters: Jaime Lannister knew who she was and now she was fleeing, supposedly in his best interest. But the ink was still wet, which meant she couldn’t have been far. So snapping himself out of it, he hurried onto his feet, out the door and down the hall. There was still no sign of her, not even any sounds he could hear. But she couldn’t possibly have already left! The letter was freshly written.

He ran out into the courtyard. Still no sight of her. His heart was truly racing now. As he searched high and low, he finally spotted a figure preparing a horse in the dim light. The figure’s frame was a small-- it had to be her. So he ran up, grabbing at their shoulder and turning them around. It was. Shock was written all over her face. Robb wasn’t quite sure what to feel. “I’m sorry,” he began. She sighed, it didn’t seem like she truly believed that. “I am so sorry, Y/N.” Or should he call her Visenya? He didn’t know and didn’t care right now. “You didn’t deserve any of that. I know what you did was exactly what my mother wanted..” He can still hear her pleas to Y/N and shuddered at the thought. “But you can’t go.” Not after all his parents went through to protect her. “We’ll figure this mess out with Jaime Lannister but I won’t let you just leave.” Her brow furrowed at that. “It’s not up to you whether I stay or go,” she shot back. No response to his apologies-- great. “Stay, Y/N. Stay for a time, just.. don’t go now. Not after everything.” She sighed and released the reins of the horse. Giving him the same silent treatment he’d given her, she followed him back into the castle and up to her room.

BACK TO READER’S POINT OF VIEW.

There was a very uncomfortable tension when the two of you returned to your chambers. He still hadn’t really addressed who you were or the fact that you said you love him-- present tense. You sighed, sitting down on the bed while he sat in the chair in front of the desk. “We should both get some rest,” you finally said quietly, hoping to spend the next few quiet hours getting some rest before another exhausting day started back up. “You’re right,” he said, though he never moved. “What are you doing...?” you asked, brow furrowed. “I...” He seemed awkward. “I just.. want to make sure you stay. And.. uh, that we don’t have another problem like this business with the Kingslayer.” Huh. “So are you just going to sit here the whole time?” you questioned incredulously. “Yeah, uh, I guess so.”

Well, this would be interesting to say the least. You stood and walked over to your trunk, searching through to find something you could get some sleep in. Settling on the first nightgown you saw, you looked at him over your shoulder. “Can you.. turn around?” He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but instead just turned like you had asked. In the most uncomfortable manner, you slid off the heavy material you’d donned for your long journey and changed into something else. You made your way back to the bed, falling back onto the soft material, which he took as a sign of you being decent. Your eyes met as you turned your head to look at him. “So you’re actually going to sit there and just.. watch me sleep?” You almost wanted to laugh. “Well, no.. I just want to be sure that something else doesn’t happen,” he replied.

With a sigh, you turned over and did your best to fall asleep. Instead, though, you remained in a state of somewhere in between. When you couldn’t deal with anymore, you sat up only to find that Robb had dozed off. It made you giggle and it felt so good to have that tiny moment of happiness after all the misery that had been the past two weeks and all the heartache that came even before that. Feeling particularly restless, though, you decided to sit at the window, something that you did often back at Winterfell. With most people still asleep and the other person in the room already knowing the truth, you removed the wrap from your head and tossed it aside.

THIRD PERSON BREAK AGAIN.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. The young wolf jolted himself awake, hoping that he had only dozed off for a few brief moments. But his heart started to pound when he saw the furs tossed open and no Y/N wrapped up in them. He hopped out of the chair, ready to run when he noticed something from the corner of his eye. Turning quickly, there she was. For the first time in his life, he saw her without being all covered up. That signature Targaryen white-silver hair that fell down her back in tousled waves was... beautiful, frankly. He didn’t expect to feel that way but he did. The young king felt frozen as he watched her.

Feeling the eyes on her, she turned around to face him. Seeing her in all her glory was breathtaking but he cursed himself for thinking so. He’d just lost his wife and mother to the child he’d never gotten to meet. And he still loved her deeply, those feelings couldn’t just go away like that. But seeing her, really seeing her, it brought up feelings from the past. He needed to break the silence. 

“You scared me,” he said awkwardly. Still taking it all in, he walked closer. “Well you don’t have to worry,” she sighed, brushing past him to go pick the fabric back up and re-apply it. Jogging over to her, he grabbed her wrist. “You don’t have to. Not now, at least.” Her eyes went wide and as he looked deeply into them, he could see the purple hue they held. All those years they’d grown up together and he never noticed. Realizing it had already been too long, he released her arm and once again, she pushed past and collapsed back into the bed. This time, though, the silver locks sprawled out around her. It’s all he could focus on as she moved. Sighing, she curled up under the covers.

BACK TO THE READER’S POINT OF VIEW.

He returned to his spot in the chair so you tried to just close your eyes and actually fall asleep. In a moment of impulse, you opened them again and met his. “You should lay down. I won’t run.. but you should probably get some rest, I’m sure it’ll be another long day.” He looked completely taken off guard and it made you immediately regret opening your mouth. “You’re sure?” he questioned softly as he rose from his chair. Surprised by his positive response, you nodded and so he came to the edge and you looked up at him for a moment before moving back, allowing him plenty of room. He removed the cloak he’d been wearing and all other heavy garments he wore then slid under the furs, lying on his side and looking directly at you. It became clear that neither of you were going to get much rest but hey, at least you were comfortable.

“Did you mean it?” And there it was, the moment you were dreading. Of course he was going to ask! You only wrote that because you really did plan to never see him again. Unable to form words, instead you just nodded. “All this time?” You nodded again. No point in pretending, right? “And you never said anything?” That’s when you propped yourself up on your elbow. “How could I ever? And if I did, what would it matter?” He didn’t move but continued to hold your gaze, never breaking away from a second. “Maybe it would have,” he replied softly. Your brow furrowed-- what on earth was he talking about? You let out a humorless chuckle. “Ah, yes. Robb Stark and Y/N, a girl from no house of any importance who just so happened to grow up as his father’s ward.” You laid back down, this time staring up at the ceiling. It sounded like he was about to say something, but you cut him off, “I’m tired. You should get some rest, too.” So you turned onto your side facing away from him and drifted off into slumber.

THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW.

Robb laid there, staring at the back of her head, for a while. What am I thinking? he wondered. He was still in mourning, why was he concerning himself with her romantic feelings for him? But then again, how could he not? She said she loves him, as in, currently. And here they were, sharing a bed so it had to be a thought on both their minds, right? Watching her frame ever so slightly rise and fall with each breath, his eyes soon fluttered shut and he slept as well.

This night, Robb was gifted a look back into his memory in a dream. He was 11, she was 10. He had been just about ready for bed when his door flew open, revealing the red, puffy-eyed and tear stained face of Y/N. He quickly got out of bed and ran over, ushering her inside and shutting the door behind her. “Woah, what’s wrong?” he asked. “I--I had a nightmare,” she said between sniffles. Robb placed his hand on her back in an effort to comfort her. “What happened?” he questioned cautiously. “I— There was a dragon. I was somewhere outside.. and it just came down in front of me, it roared so loud I thought I’d never be able to hear again. I think it was just about to blast me with his fire when I woke up. But it was so scary!” It was hard to even understand what she was saying she was so choked up. “It’s okay, Y/N, all the dragons are gone. And I’d never let anything hurt you,” he replied, pulling to girl in his arms and squeezing her. Her tears wet his shirt, but she seemed to calm soon after he held her. Robb leaned back from her, wiping the rest of the tears away with his thumbs. “All better?” he asked with a warm smile. The younger girl nodded. “Come here,” he said quietly, pulling her gently by her hand and leading her to his bed, urging her to lay in it. “You can stay here. I’ll be here if it happens again,” he said, continuing to smile at her. So she laid there, falling asleep not long after. Meanwhile, he watched to make sure she slept peacefully before he could sleep himself.

That morning when he woke up, she was still sleeping. He didn’t think it was possible for someone to sleep so gracefully, especially when she was a total mess when they were younger. The thought made him chuckle. He watched her for a few minutes longer before he turned to lay on his back, sighing as he stared up at the ceiling. What a mess things had become. It was about time he move and get prepared for a long day of trying to figure out what their next move would be. Many of his men had been taken out at the Twins, but a decent amount had also escaped and had reportedly re-assembled at Riverrun.

He gently slid out of the bed and began to put himself together when he heard movement behind him. Y/N looked groggy as she propped herself up on her elbow. He still found himself fixated on her hair, that beautiful hair, that hung down in loose waves. He loved his wife and mourned for her and their child’s death. It was horrific and he would seek revenge for them, as well as his mother. 

But was there still feelings there for Y/N? Feelings he hadn’t really thought about in years. As he grew older he came to realize that he was heir to Winterfell and she was no one, so he had been told, so there was just no way it could be. When they were children, though, he loved to do things like hold her hand, lay with her, hug her. He had never considered what his role would be as a man, all he knew back then was that there was a pretty girl who he loved to spend his time with-- a harmless crush. Then, they got older and they started to speak less and less until it became strictly when they needed to. He needed that distance or he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from acting on those feelings. Even with it, he couldn’t keep himself from stealing glances of her at occasions she’d been invited to or even just time spent in the courtyard. Theon always made jokes about the way she was covered up and he hated himself for sometimes laughing along but none of that mattered to him. Beauty radiated off of her. And then when she showed that she was as strong as she was beautiful.. wow. He could see the raw talent back when he caught her sparring with Jon. It only made him more attracted to her. Seeing her insist on being involved with the war, it scared him. But it also intrigued him.

Then Talisa came along and immediately he was pulled in. The woman was beautiful and smart and challenging. It was an instant love, a love that he didn’t care about risking things for. She loved him back, too, just as quickly and intensely as he had. They married and in no time she was carrying his child. All the while, though, his feelings for Y/N certainly hadn’t just disappeared. In fact, she was the first taste of love he had. But having it drilled into him for so long that he would one day be Warden of the North and he would be married to a Lady of another great house, he had to just.. forget about it. It was terrible and unfair to push her away but that’s what he did. And now, here they were, being thrusted back together again. They shared a bed just like when they were children. He enjoyed it just as much. Everything was just so mixed up it was making his head spin.

“You—“ he started, only for her to immediately cut him off. “I know,” she grumbled as she hopped out of bed going over to get her head wrap. Well, that’s not what he was going to say. But, being as frustrated as she was, she rushed over to change without even thinking about how he was standing right there. He watched as the night gown slid down off her back and it was just about to pass her hips when he tore his gaze away. She dressed quickly and reapplied the wrap.

READER POV.

You couldn’t believe that you two had slept together. Why did you offer him the place next to you? It was stupid. It was stupid because as soon as he did and stared at you as he did so, your heart fluttered. You remembered the sleepless nights when you’d run to his chambers and he’d pull you right in. How could you not have fallen in love with him? Sighing, you sat on the bed. “Shouldn’t you be on your way out? They shouldn’t see you leaving from my room. And I imagine there is a lot to do today.” The look on his face told you that he wanted to say more but instead he nodded and made his exit.

Letting out an even heavier sigh, you placed your hands over your face and unwillingly let some tears slip down your cheeks. Today was going to be a long one. You weren’t sure how, but you needed to find some way to be useful and keep yourself busy, your mind off all that was going on. You stood up, wiped the tears off your face and told yourself there would be no more of that today. Then you turned and made your way out of the room.

After having some breakfast, you tried your best to find something to do but what was there? Yeah, you saved the king but the Mallisters didn’t plan on bringing you into the meetings. However, after some wandering, you started to hear a conversation between multiple men. The closer you got, the more you could hear. It was Robb and the other men, discussing all that had happened and what would come next. So what you found out was under Theon, the Iron Islanders had taken Winterfell (infuriating Robb and you as well). Then, Roose Bolton had been slain, by a peasant girl (causing you to smile when you heard this), after attempting to murder the king he had sworn his men too. With that being said, his bastard was now mobilizing Bolton forces with the intent to take Winterfell for themselves which was going to make an even bigger problem. The Bastard King was furious upon learning that Robb had survived the assassination attempt and Lannister forces were surely on their way to find them, though they hadn’t yet figured out that he is at Seagard. But the final news is what made you fall to your knees with a sharp gasp. “…Daenerys Targaryen lives and has somehow produced three growing dragons. She has an army of Dothraki and bought over 8,000 Unsullied. We believe she has intentions to return to Westeros to reclaim the throne and has already sacked several cities in Essos.” Your sister was alive. No longer were you a Targaryen alone in the world, no, your older sister was alive and thriving. You clasped your hand over your mouth to muffle the cries that escaped. When you were able to gain control of your limbs again, you ran off to your quarters. This was the perfect opportunity to leave now. You would sail to Essos to find your sister and fight at her side-- then you would be out of Robb’s hair. It would be a win for the both of you.

Once again, you were assembling your things together. Only the absolute necessities would be going with you and whatever else you didn’t need could be sold. You would need as much money as you could get in order to make this trip. This time, though, you would not simply run off into the night. Maybe Robb deserved a goodbye, if that’s what he wanted. And if that wasn’t it... well, you’d find your way out. It wasn’t his decision whether you left or not, just as you had said the night before. 

Hours passed and when you grew tired of waiting for the chance that he would visit you in the night again, you stood up and approached your door-- just at the same time there was a knock and he walked in shortly after. This put you two within inches of each other, causing you to suck in a breath with surprise. He looked down then stepped back a bit. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to--” You cut him off again, “It’s fine.” Feeling nervous about the closeness, you hurried back over to your bed and sat down then patted the spot next to you, beckoning him over. He looked confused but came and sat anyway.

“I heard your meeting today.” If he expected an apology for eavesdropping, he certainly wasn’t going to get one. But he knows you better than that, you thought. “I need to go, Robb. It’s dangerous for me to be here when Jaime knows who I am and my sister is alive. I have somewhere to go!” At this point you stood up, your emotions getting the better of you and making it impossible to be still. “I thought I lost my entire family and now that’s not the case and I just.. I need to be with her..” The tears were starting up, as much as you tried to hold them at bay. “Were we not your family?” his voice is stern but it isn’t hard to hear the hurt in it. “You know that’s not what I was saying,” you shot back weakly. “...I just don’t see why you want to leave for someone you don’t know. You don’t know what she’s like, Y/N!” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “And neither do you! But I’m willing to take the risk. I told you before, it’s not your decision if I stay or not and I’m choosing to go,” you spit out harshly. 

That’s when you march across the room to go grab everything you might need and shove it into a bag that was easily carried. So much for a bittersweet parting. You feel his hand grab your arm and you look up at him as you pull it from his grip. “You can’t,” he says. “But I am,” you reply, throwing the bag onto your shoulder and shoving past him, only for him to catch hold of your wrist and pull you backwards. “Let go of me!” you shout, both anger and sadness in your tone. “I can’t let you go,” his tone is softer now, as is his gaze. You hated that you thought about but Jaime’s words calling him your captor crossed your mind. Was that it? He wanted to keep you because having one of the remaining Targaryens under his thumb was easier than the two potentially teaming up and conquering Westeros like their ancestors had? No, of course not. The two of you may have lost your connection over time, but Robb was not that callous.. was he?

“What is this about?” you questioned, once again pulling your arm away from him. “I..” He seemed so conflicted and it left you baffled. “I love you, too, Y/N,” he finally spits out. Your body felt numb and your heart began to pound. He couldn’t be serious. He had a wife just a month ago-- one who was tragically killed. This was absolutely ridiculous. “Don’t say that,” you replied, voice breaking. “I do. I have. I should have said it a long time ago but then I was told I had no choice in who I would be with and so I.. I don’t know, let it go I guess! Then there was Talisa--” That’s when a tear managed to slip down your cheek, which you wiped away as you stepped back. “Listen to me,” he pleaded, noticing the way you seemed to have checked out. So you nodded. “Then there was Talisa. The first woman I loved since you. And she loved me too. There was the Frey girl but I wanted a choice, so I made one.” Did he really want you to listen to the story of how he fell in love with someone else? “I’m saying this because I don’t want to lie to you. I loved her.. I don’t know if she’ll ever leave me, truly. She was the mother of my child.” Another tear you needed to wipe away. “But I loved you since we were children, just like you. I always loved you, it was always there, I just.. didn’t want to confront it and that was stupid. I was being a coward. But I can’t anymore, I can’t just watch you walk away.” 

You tore your gaze away from him in a poor attempt to hide the tears. But he came close and pulled gently at your chin to make you face him. He took your face into both hands, Tully blues giving you the most intense look. “Why? Why now?” you asked in a strained voice as tears continued to stream down your porcelain cheeks. “I told you, I’m a coward. I should’ve told you as soon as I knew. I think I was 10.. but I was scared.” You simply stared at him, unable to find the words to say. “I love you, Y/N, I do. It doesn’t matter if you’re a Targaryen, you are as much a Northerner as I.” He wiped away the tears with his thumbs. “I won’t be your secret,” you replied, your voice as stern as you could manage. “No, you won’t. I promise. I will figure this all out and I promise I would never keep you a secret. You’re a Northerner who has fought alongside them, what could they possibly have to say?” You sighed, why was he so foolishly optimistic? “I’m a Targaryen. I can’t stay all covered up anymore, if I do it’ll only be a matter of time before it gets revealed and I’d rather do it myself than have Jaime Lannister spread it across the Seven Kingdoms,” you replied. He sucked in a deep breath then nodded. 

“We’ll figure this all out,” he said softly before pressing his forehead to yours, still holding your head in his heads. You sighed, both out of a strange sense of relief but at the same time, frustration. This was all so complicated that it made you sick. This was all you had wanted all your life and yet now that it was here, it wasn’t as happy an occasion as it should’ve been. He leaned back and looked deeply in your eyes, “Just don’t leave.. please.” The way he seemed so vulnerable, so distraught.. it made your heart ache. Gods, you wanted to meet Daenerys-- you wanted to know your family but maybe staying was the best option, at least for now. But Robb’s doubts be damned, you would find a way to make contact with her. Even if you had to do it in secret, you didn’t care. Sure, you knew very little of her but something in your gut told you that she could be trusted-- that’d she’d be just as excited as you to learn that her sister had survived.

So you nodded. You wouldn’t leave, not now at least. And he smiled, a smile so bright-- something you hadn’t seen from him in Gods know how long. Then, finally, he pressed his lips to yours and you kissed him back with the longing of so many years. He returned the amount of passion and in no time, the two of you fell onto the bed. Things were getting intense when you stopped him, staring down at him with a smirk and watching as he was left panting. “You’re mad if you think I’m risking falling pregnant right now. I intend to keep fighting, Stark. And besides, you don’t want to dishonor me, do you?” you said, that smirk never wavering. He chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows and running a hand through your hair. “You’re right.. I guess,” he replied playfully before pressing a kiss softly to your lips. 

You rolled off of him, settling in the place next to him instead. He rolled onto his side to look at you and you did the same. It felt like you two were children again. “The men who survived and more are meant to be here tomorrow. I’ll tell them that I mean to take a new queen. I won’t let any of them try to object and then.. you can tell them who you are,” he said quietly. Your mind raced and your heart was pounding-- so this was in then, huh? After going your whole life hiding, you were going to reveal that you were in fact the Mad King’s daughter. With a sigh, you nodded. “Aren’t you afraid of losing their support?” you questioned. “They swore an oath to my father and then to me, they can’t simply go back on that. And you are no ordinary queen, you fought for them-- alongside them. You saved my life and killed a traitor. It shouldn’t matter what your name is after all that.” All you could do was nod but your mind continued to race. Would it really go this way? You sure hoped but.. you knew all too well that not all men were too keen on keeping their oaths. 

And they did reach Seagard that next morning. You were still lying in bed when Robb came in to inform you. So this was it then. Robb was going to announce you as his queen and you would tell them that you were a Targaryen. It was a terrifying thought. But you realized you hadn’t even confronted the thought that Robb was going to make you his queen-- he loved you and you two would be bound to one another. Before he could leave the room, you shot up out of bed. “All you said was that you’d make me a queen, you know. You are terrible at this whole asking someone to marry you thing,” you said, chuckling slightly. His eyes went wide and his face had a slight red tinge, presumably from embarrassment. He quickly made his way over, seating himself next to you on the bed. One hand went to the side of your face, fingers getting tangled in your hair. “Marry me, Y/N Targaryen. I wish to be yours until my last breath, and you mine. I love you.” The butterflies in your stomach fluttered so intensely you thought for a moment that you might be sick. “I will. I love you too, Robb Stark,” you said, nodding with tears in your eyes. He pressed his lips passionately to yours before breaking apart. “Get ready. It’s time.” You nodded and he left the room.

You put on a simple gown and then your wrap. When you stepped forward and made your own speech, you would remove it. But obviously you couldn’t just walk out that way. Closing your eyes and catching your breath, you smoothed out your dress and mentally prepared yourself for what could either be a liberating or life-threatening moment but either way, nothing would ever be the same. So you made your way out the door, hands clasped in front of you as you walked down the hall. Keeping your head high, you finally arrived in the courtyard where Robb was speaking with his trusted advisors. When he notices you from the corner of his eye, he quickly makes his way over. “It’s time then,” he said softly. You felt yourself beginning to shake and he grabbed your hand, “It’s going to be okay.”

Then it began. Robb stepped out into the middle of the courtyard, calling to the men to listen. Your eyes scanned the crowd, shocked by how far they went. They went far beyond the gates of Seagard, all trying to get a listen of what their king had to say.

“Men!” he called out. “After the tragedy at the Twins, I thank you all for assembling here to discuss our next course of action.” The men all cheered, clearly their loyalty never wavered despite what happened. “I promise you all, we will avenge all those we lost. We will punish the Freys for betraying their king in the name of some bastard in the South.” They cheered even louder this time. Well, it was surely going to get silent the moment he mentioned you-- or they’d protest, even. “But there is another matter I must speak about.” They were quiet this time, the anticipation written all over their faces. “I understand what taking Lady Talisa as my queen did. You must understand that I was making the choice I believed to be right and I will be seeking revenge on her behalf as well. But now, I ask that you trust me when I tell you I present you all a new queen. A woman I grew up with, who is loyal to the North. She understands our ways and she would gladly fight for you all until her last breath!” Just as you expected, they were silent now. “It is she who saved my life that night. She drove the dagger into Lord Bolton’s heart when he sought to kill me in the name of the Lannisters!” Then there was some enthusiasm from them. You were shocked.

He looked back at you now, nodding. “Come forward, Y/N,” he said, loud enough for those close to hear but no longer shouting. Shaking, you walked to his side and looked out at the men before you. You were able to recognize some of them as those you’d fought with, who commended you on your skill in battle when it was all over. Robb looked over at you, nodding as a way to tell you to speak. You exhaled a deep breath and built your confidence. “It is true, I plan to continue to fight alongside you all. I would die protecting any one of you! I am a Northern woman, it is my home and I will see to it that we destroy all of its enemies and take back the freedom that is rightfully ours!” You saw them nod and begin to cheer, not as loud as before but it was something. “It was I who put that blade in Lord Bolton’s chest-- and I plan to do the same to Lord Frey and any other traitor! Any ally of that Bastard King is an enemy of mine and I will happily put my life on the line to cut each and every one down!” Their cheers got louder and a grin began to grow on your lips. “But if I am to be a Queen, then I must be honest with you all. I am not nameless, not a peasant. Lord Stark saved me when I was just a babe and raised me in the ways of the North-- to pray to the Old Gods-- the true Gods-- and live with honor!” Your heart was racing as they grew silent again, waiting for what truth you needed to tell them. 

“But I am a Targaryen.” Gasps echoed across the crowd as you removed the wrap from your head. “Yes, the Mad King is my father but I have no connection to that evil man! And I wish to right all the wrongs he committed. My name may be Targaryen but I am as much a Stark as your king!” You called out. Still silence until.. there were some that began to cheer and others joined in until the entire crowd was. Queen in The North, they called you. You couldn’t believe it. A Targaryen-- a Northern Queen. It felt like a dream. You were absolutely beaming. Robb then grabbed your hand, smiled over at you and held it up. The people cheered. They would now have rulers who wouldn’t hide away-- but would aid them in the fight for freedom.

“We invite you to celebrate our union tonight with a grand feast!” he exclaimed as you grinned at him. So this was it. Years and years of loving him and now here you were, ready to marry and live as King and Queen. The men cheered as Robb lead you away from the commotion, back into the castle. The two of you kissed passionately as Robb wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground, causing you to giggle against his lips. How had things gone from so catastrophically wrong to as close to perfect as can be in just a matter of nearly two months? It was so hard to believe and yet here you two were.

“A grand feast, huh?” you asked, smirking as he let you back down. “And why not?” he shot back playfully. “Nothing! Just.. shocked is all. A Targaryen-Stark wedding being grand.” It was something no one would have ever thought possible let alone it being celebrated. “Well here we are,” he said softly before pressing another gentle kiss to your lips. “Do we even have a septon?” you asked. “Of course! And I believe the Mallisters have something for you to wear,” he said as he began to grin. Your eyes narrowed, “You are something else, Robb Stark.” He pulled you into a tight embrace again and you melted into his touch. Just then, some handmaidens walked over to you two, heads bowed. “Lady Targaryen, we apologize for the interruptions,” their voices sounded like they were shaking. You turned to face them with a warm smile, “No need.” Both of them looked up, returning the gesture. “We are to help you prepare for the ceremony if you could please come with us,” they still sounded intimidated, but less so. You nodded, breaking away from Robb and venturing off with the two young women. With one last look over your shoulder, you grinned at him.

First, you were given a bath. The two women looked shocked when you stepped right in, both warning you that it was still extremely hot but it felt great to you. You submerged yourself, holding yourself there for a few moments before returning to the surface, wiping your eyes. Once it finally ran cold, you stood and the handmaidens rushed over to cover you in a robe. “Thank you,” you said, chuckling slightly at their urgency. While one of them worked on trying to dry your hair, the other laid a dress out on the bed and you gasped at its beauty. It was done completely in Stark colors but you could swear that there was a three-headed dragon stitched just over the left breast. Completely taken off guard, you began to walk over, completely disregarding the woman working on your hair. As you stared down, you found that you were right. “How...?” you asked, looking over at the woman who stood next to it. “His Grace swore us to secrecy and asked that we make a small tribute to your house.” Your eyes began to water but you wiped at them before they tracked down your cheeks. Robb was unbelievable.

After apologizing to the other handmaiden, the both of them got to work on preparing you for the wedding. It wasn’t much, but they seemed to have some simple makeup on hand: painting your lips red, adding an ever so slight pink tinge to your cheeks and braided pieces that met in the back while leaving the rest of your silver locks in loose waves. They helped you step into your dress and while one pulled your corset tight, the other helped to adjust the front of the gown. It felt like you could hardly breathe but.. it was worth it for such a joyous occasion. “My lady,” one woman, who you now came to know as Lyla, said as she brought a mirror to your face. You smiled at your reflection before looking up at Lyla and Samaya. “I can’t thank you two enough,” you said, beginning to get choked up. “It was our pleasure, Your Grace,” Lyla spoke up first, but both grinned at you. Both of them gave you a curtsy before making their way out. “Congratulations, Your Grace,” said Samaya as she shot you a grin.

So you were left alone in the room, trying your best to not freak out. It was just so hard to believe that this was really happening. It was then that you heard the door open and you spun around to find Robb in the door way. He actually had his mouth hanging open as he stared at you, causing you to smirk. “Yes?” you asked, raising your brows. “You look.. breathtaking,” he said as he came closer and grabbed hold of your hand. “But we should go, Your Grace,” he replied, grinning. You realized then that there was no one to walk you to the ceremony. It should’ve been Lord Stark or Lady Catelyn but now they were gone. He seemed to notice your change in mood and his brow furrowed, “Y/N?” Your head snapped up to look at him, shaking your head. “It’s nothing.”

And then you two made it into the Great Hall where Robb walked right up to the septon then looked over at you, awaiting your arrival. You walked down the aisle with your head held high as all the high lords and ladies stared at you. When you reached your spot across from Robb, you smiled warmly at him and the vows began. “...I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.” “...I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.” The two of you finished in unison. Then, the septon began to tie a ribbon around your clasped hands as he proclaimed, “Let it be known that Robb of House Stark and Y/N of House Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.” The two of you looked at one another with a smile as he finished, “In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity.” And then the ribbon was unraveled. While you both believed in the Old Gods, Lady Catelyn believed in the Seven and you both knew this is a ceremony that she would appreciate. Besides, you were in the Riverlands now. A formal Northern wedding could be held when this was all over and you two were home.

The next few hours was magical. You never really expected to have a wedding or be married at all.. much less to Robb. But here it was, the time of your life. You danced with Robb amongst your people, laughing and beaming from ear to ear. And just as he had said, there was a grand feast for all to enjoy. By the end of the night you were quite exhausted when the two of you retired to your now shared room within the castle, though you wouldn’t be there much longer.

As soon as the door closed, Robb pressed his lips to yours with a sense of urgency, pushing back until you were up against the door. “Someone’s eager,” you giggled against his lips. “Should I not desire my wife?” he bantered back. His wife. You were his wife. Before you knew it you fell down onto the bed, dress half off, with Robb on top of you. Without thinking, you allowed him to strip you of nearly everything when you finally pulled away panting. “I told you, Stark, I will not fall pregnant. Not now,” you said with a smirk but you were very serious. As much as you would love to indulge in all the pleasures of married life and live in domestic bliss, there was a war to be fought. No time for children, not right now. He simply sighed but pressed another gentle kiss to your lips. You stood up and changed into a night gown before crawling back into bed, cuddling up to him.

The two of you were just starting to doze off when the door floor open. It was a young man who stood in the door way. “My apologies, Your Grace!” he exclaimed, clearly very shaken up. “What is going on?” Robb questioned in a gravely voice as he began to sit up in bed. “The men, they caught someone sneaking into the castle.. I think you’ll want to see him right away,” he said frantically, though he put his head down. “Yes.. I will be right there,” Robb quickly responded as he hopped out of the bed and got more heavily dressed. You got up as well, hurrying to find a robe you could throw on. He turned to look at you with a furrowed brow, “You don’t need to worry yourself with this.” With a single brow cocked, you shot back, “Robb, I plan to rule at your side. I would like to know who is trying to spy on us.” He sighed but you caught the slightest hint of a smirk as he turned away. 

The two of you followed the young man out the door and down the hall into the Great Hall, where a group of guards stood around a shackled prisoner. Upon your arrival, the disheveled man raised his head-- none other than Jaime Lannister. What on earth was he doing here? You knew that it was now well-known that Robb was re-assembling his army at Seagard but did the Lannisters really send him, just when he escaped their capture? Jaime was a fighter like no other but him against an entire castle? Tywin Lannister fought hard to get his son back, this move seemed ridiculous. “You know, I sent good men after you yet here you are, willingly coming back to me. Did you really think you’d be able to finish the job your father’s spy could not with an entire castle to get through?”

“I’m not here for you, Robb Stark. I’m here for her.”

[yungimmortals]

biking date, hiking date | jaime & gene

date: sometime in november summary: jaime gets a ride and so does gene

Gene leaned against his motorcycle casually. Hands stuffed into his pockets, looking away from Jaime’s building as though focused on something far away, but in a mysterious and suave way rather than a distracted one. Gods, the effort it took to look so effortless. Once Jaime approached, however, Gene straightened a bit, smiling as he automatically held his hand out for a shake. Fuck, fuck, this isn’t a business deal. Too late to change course, he pretended that this was a totally normal thing to do, and then turned to motion to his bike. “Figured we could ride the way there, little two-for-one. If you’re nice, I might even be willing to give you a lesson.”

Striding out of his building, Jaime tousled his hair and straightened out the collar of his shirt. “Hey!” His face lit up as he spotted Gene and he headed over, shaking his outstretched hand with a lopsided smile. “Are you serious?” Jaime’s eyes bounced between Gene and the bike, his heart starting to hammer in his chest. “With that opportunity, I suppose I must be nice now,” he laughed, bumping Gene’s shoulder lightly. “You look good.”

  Gene was glad when Jaime said nothing about the shake, and grinned at his reaction to the little surprise. “Totally. Not gonna flash you my bike and then fully hold out on you. That would just be cruel.” He picked up a helmet to pass over to Jaime, exhaling a laugh as he did. “Glad I could convince you.“ He preened at the praise, smoothing out his sweatshirt with one hand. “So do you, no surprise there.” He slid his other helmet then pushed the face shield up, looking from his bike to Jaime. “I’m assuming you know this, but get on on this side, those are where you put your feet, and don’t touch that.” He pointed from the footrests to the exhaust. “It’ll take the skin clean off your leg.” He climbed onto his bike and waited for Jaime to do the same. “And hold on tight.”

Jaime accepted the helmet, holding it almost reverently. Whatever guesses he had had about this date, Gene had already pleasantly surprised him and Jaime was beyond excited to ride the motorcycle. At the compliment, he ran a hand through his hair and smiled. “Thank you. Oh yes, I prefer my skin to stay adhered to my leg.” With a light laugh and a nod, he put on the helmet he’d been given and carefully got on the bike behind Gene, wrapping his arms around his waist. He gave Gene a light squeeze. “Is this tight enough?”

Gene took a moment to admire Jaime’s expression. His face he could admire at a later point, but Gene enjoyed the fact that he had already made Jaime so visibly eager. “We’re in agreement on that one.” He turned his head towards Jaime once his arms were around him and called back to him. “ Yeah! But I can handle a lot more.” He grinned to himself. God, he was so cool. He kicked up the kickstand, revved the engine, and peeled away from the curb.

Gene knew a pretty direct route to the forest, but that seemed much less fun than taking the long way, speeding up for short distances to keep things exciting. Once they reached the trail, Gene parked his bike, pulled off his helmet, and fluffed out his hair to fix it as he dismounted his motorcycle. “How was that?” he asked, his grin clearly stating that he’d enjoyed himself.

He held on tighter as Gene revved the engine, letting out a laugh loud enough to be heard over the noise. The ride passed by in a blur and when Gene parked the bike, Jaime was reluctant to drop his arms from around his waist. He removed his helmet, straightening out his glasses and beamed at Gene. "I would pretend to be coy but since I can't seem to rid my face of this undoubtedly goofy grin, I think it's clear I enjoyed that." He dismounted, turning in a circle to take in the forest before looking over at Gene, one hand trying to flatten down his unruly hair. "That was a lot of fun."

Gene couldn't stop himself from smiling at the way Jaime spoke. It was like someone who figured out how social interactions worked by watching Dead Poets Society. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." He positioned the helmet to rest on the mirror of his bike and held his hand out to take the one he had given Jaime as well. "Believe it or not, I was planning on giving you a ride back, too." He grinned, trying to ignore the fact that he had to look up slightly at him. "Did you want another zip around, or are you ready to walk?"

"How generous!" Jaime laughed, passing Gene the helmet in his hands and feeling his face warm as their hands brushed. "I'm ready to walk, lead the way?" He took a step, his shoe bumping a rock; Jaime bent down to pick it up and brush the dirt off of it. The stone was smooth, with a natural indent: the perfect worry stone. With a grin, he wordlessly offered it to Gene, trying his best not to feel ridiculous for the gesture.

Gene took the helmet and then hung it from the other mirror, eyes flicking up to meet Jaime’s as their hands touched. Was that too much contact? No, just enough. Not enough? Gene decided not to overthink it. It was enough for now, he decided, then left it so that he could take the stone that Jaime handed him, almost confused at first. He grinned at the gesture nevertheless, and before leading the way to the trail, he rapped his knuckles against Jaime’s chest, hand curled around the stone. “Yo, can I kiss you?”

The contact of Gene's knuckles on his chest sent a jolt of electricity through Jaime. He blinked, not sure if he had heard correctly, or just imagined the question that he had hoped to hear anyway. "Yes!" He answered eagerly, then cleared his throat. "Yes, absolutely," Jaime grinned brightly at Gene, closing the distance between them.

Gene smirked at Jaime’s enthusiasm and reached up to rest his hand on the side of Jaime’s neck as he kissed him, hand still curled around the stone he’d been given. He wasn’t used to kissing people taller than him, but as he kissed Jaime, he felt like he could get used to it. After a moment, he pulled away, flashing a smile before leading them to the path he’d planned on taking. “You said you hiked in Maine a lot, but do you know the trails around here?”

Angling his head slightly when he felt Gene's hand on his neck, Jaime leaned into the kiss. His stomach did a somersault and he could feel himself smiling against Gene's lips as he pulled away. "Yeah! I do," he nodded, excited as he joined him on the path. "Like the back of my hand, I'd like to think. Are you familiar with them or have you brought me here to be your forest guide?" Jaime teased, still smiling from the kiss and hoping it was only one of many.

Gene exhaled a small laugh as Jaime explained how well he knew the paths here. “You caught me.” He smiled, reaching out to run his fingertips along the foliage at the edge of the path. “I was about to say that I should have taken you somewhere I could impress you with my knowledge of rather than vice versa. Let’s go to the west coast real quick.”

Jaime shook his head, smiling as he watched Gene interact with the nearby flora. "I suppose that's more of a second date-type of trip," he joked, rubbing the back of his neck shyly as he said date. That's what this is, isn't it? He brushed off his thoughts, falling in step next to Gene. "You impressed me with your very very nice motorcycle. Now I can return the favor by taking you to one of my favorite trails. Would that be alright?"

Gene laughed, and the leaves nearby shook as if they were laughing too. “You’re right. West coast is too big a gesture for the first one. Maybe I’ll actually take you surfing. You seem like that isn’t your gig.” He smiled, preening at the praise of his bike, and dipped his head in a small nod. “Yeah, ‘m down.” He slowed his gait slightly so Jaime could take the lead. “Lead the way.”

"A nice gesture, all the same," Jaime dipped his head, ducking under a branch as the leaves shook along with Gene's laughter. It was such an endearing thing that Jaime felt a smile work its way across his face, marveling at Gene's powers. "Ah, I've never tried it. Ocean spray and glasses are not the best mix but I would certainly try, if given the chance." Taking the lead, he took them down a path that veered left, deeper into the trees until they were walking alongside a trickling stream.

“Oh, glasses, duh.” Gene shook his head at the fact that he hadn’t considered that they might be hard to surf with. “Need to get you goggles, or... can you see without those at all? How you fair swimming?” Gene followed Jaime easily, admiring the life around them. “I see you’re taking us swimming already,” he joked, noting the stream, the reached up to tug at Jaime’s sleeve. “Ey, look.” In a bold move, he moved his arms out, but too close to the water apparently, and along the top of it appeared an algae bloom. He grimaced. “Fuck, wait, no, ignore that.” He was embarrassed but not losing confidence, and he turned away from the water to gesture closer to their path, trying to get himself to feel more focused than excited. After a moment, a small line of asters popped up, and as Gene moved his arm, they followed. He smiled at Jaime, his earlier mishap all but forgotten. “Yeah?”

Jaime considered his answer for a moment, wondering how well he would be able to see to surf. "I would probably need those sports goggles but, gods, I would look ridiculous. They always make your eyes look so big." He laughed, shaking his head. "I'm a decent swimmer, probably not as good as you but I won't drown." Jaime smiled at the tug on his sleeve, finding the gesture endearing. His eyes followed the motion of Gene's arms, watching the algae appear, and then moments later, a crop of asters. His eyes lit up as he recognized the flowers and he moved closer to them, excited to get a better look. "I love it," Jaime murmured, his fingertips brushing a flower.

“What do you do when you swim if you don’t have those goggles?” Gene asked, genuinely curious. “Blind swimming sounds like the world’s most dangerous sport.” He laughed, and watched as Jaime reacted to him showing off his powers, happy that he didn’t comment on his mistake. He straightened, but at the comment, he let out a small chuckle as more little flowers popped up near the asters. “They’re, uh.” He traced his foot along the ground. “I’m getting a pretty good handle on my powers, now that I know they’re there.”

"Squint," Jaime answered with a laugh. "Or, it's silly, but I've worn my glasses to swim. I just end up not going under the water much. In case my answers don't give me away, it's been a while since I've swam." He shook his head, fingers still on the flower and looked at the other flowers as they began to grow. "I think they look beautiful. Your powers, they're really cool."

“I didn’t know they’d stay on your face. Suppose you never tried that in the ocean.” Gene smiled and crouched down beside Jaime. “They come in handy.” He reached down to touch one of the buds. “My friend wants us to become superheroes, but I think it’d be dope to restore habitats. I can literally do that.” He shook his head, aware that his powers weren’t quite that strong, but he wasn’t about to downplay himself after a compliment. “You got tricks up your sleeve too, nah?”

"You'd be right, never the ocean. But the lake? Or a pool? It works out...not super well," Jaime laughed, feeling silly. He chewed his lip when Gene crouched beside him. "Restoring habitats would be amazing. Helping things grow, definitely a super power. What would you call yourself? Would you have an alternate identity?" He gave the asters another smile before looking at Gene. "Some, yeah. But I don't have a very good handle on them...yet."

Gene laughed. “As much of a superpower as everyone else here. Flying and healing broken bones is pretty dope.” He shook his head, a smile still on his face. “Absolutely not. I’m not gonna hide who I am.” He motioned towards Jaime with his chin. “You’re the one who looks like Clark Kent with the glasses. If you take them off will I suddenly know you from TV?” He smiled and dipped his head. “Yet. I like that. Shows dedication.” He tugged at Jaime’s sleeve again and leaned in to kiss him.

Wistfully, Jaime agreed with Gene, thinking about what it would be like to be a healer. "It is. And good, I had a feeling that would be your answer," he smiled, feeling his face warm. "I'm no Superman but...maybe. Do you recognize me now?" Jaime took his glasses off with a flourish, letting out a chuckle as he angled his face towards Gene, just in time for another kiss. This was good. This was more than good. Reluctant to pull away, he did so, long enough to return his glasses to his face and give Gene a bashful smile before leaning in to kiss him again.

"Good, I'd hate to give off any other impression." Gene's lips seemed to be fixed in a smile, but he hoped that Jaime had poor vision, as his face grew hot at the way he pulled off his glasses. "Oh yeah, you're that hot actor who was in Rocky Horror." Dumbass, he wore his glasses for the show. Gene figured that Jaime wouldn't mention it, and he pushed the comment from his mind as he focused on kissing him. He moved from holding Jaime's sleeve to resting a hand on his shoulder, thinking about something else to say when Jaime leaned in once more. The flowers around them seemed denser once he pulled away, asters springing up on the forest floor around them. He laughed, their faces still close. "That your power?" He grinned, seemingly unable to help himself. "Being a good kisser?"

"That's me, local heartthrob, Brad Majors," he grinned. Jaime made a sound of contentment when Gene rested a hand on his shoulder. Pulling away, the appearance of more asters caught his eye. His ears turned red the second his brain processed Gene's comment and his stomach did a little flip. Jaime ducked his head, enjoying the moment but trying to hide the blush on his face. "Maybe it is," he mumbled shyly. "Guess we'll have to experiment some more to find out."

Gene grinned. “Should I be getting on some sort of waitlist?” At Jaime’s reaction, he laughed, then leaned in to kiss him for a few more seconds. “I am a scientist. So... experiments.” He laughed and ducked his head, rubbing his thumb into Jaime’s shoulder before he dropped his hand. "Not complaining, promise, but should we... get back to hiking?"

"No no, you're a V.I.P. No list needed." After the kiss, Jaime couldn't help but grin. "If it's for science, in the name of research, who am I to say no?" He joked. "Ah, we should, we're a little over halfway there. You don't happen to be afraid of heights, do you?"

“Does that mean I get in through the back?” Gene grinned back at Jaime and moved to stand, holding a hand out to help him up. He exhaled a laugh. “A little more than halfway to our destination is a great time to ask whether I’m afraid of heights. If I was, would we turn around?”

Jaime flushed, but the smile stayed on his face. "Maybe," he replied, his voice a little higher pitched than usual. "We would not. But if you were, I'd probably...I don't know. Hold your hand a little tighter?" He let out a little laugh and ducked his head. "Too cheesy?"

Gene grinned, taking in the blush without commenting on it. “Oh, nah, nah.” He shook his head and rested a hand on his chest. “In that case, I’m terrified.”

[virareve]

While languishing over the fic exchange, I recently noticed that some of the first few times I shared some drabbles/one shots I posted from a collection of short J/B writings I’ve put up on AO3, I was just sharing a link to the main work and not the specific chapter. I wanted to reshare some of the ones I was most proud of/cared about the most that I didn’t properly link to previously.

For anyone who prefers, I’m posting the text to the chapter below as well. :)

Summary:   Unsent Letters from Kingsguard's Lord Commander Jaime Lannister are leaked to the press.

King's Landing Chronicles, Issue 1011

Excerpt from page 2:

Love Letters from the Lord Commander By Pia Waters

Once thought the coldest, cruelest man in the Six Kingdoms, unsent letters from the head of the royal Kingsguard’s Lord Commander shed light into the enigma that is Jaime Lannister, and reveal that he is not so much a mystery as he is a man with his own inner turmoils and a love long gone.

Content leads royal experts to believe that the letters were penned sometime after he was reinstated to the Kingsguard, following the execution of Dowager Queen Cersei, his sister, for plots against the crown. (This was the last time state sanctioned capital punishment was permitted before 'Ned's Law' was enacted and banned capital punishment throughout the six kingdoms.) Readers will also notice the subject of the letters does not appear to be the late Queen, his alleged lover for most of his career. Many are surprised by the emotional depth thought nonexistent in the man the press popularly dubbed the Kingslayer but King Tommen and the newly coronated Queen…( Cont. on Pages 5-7 )

- - -

King's Landing Chronicles, Issue 1011

Excerpt from page 7, The Last Letter:

What is more beautiful, my love? Love lost or love found? Don't laugh at me, my love. I know it. I'm awkward and naive when it comes to love. I ask questions straight out of a pop song. This doubt overwhelms me and undermines me, my love. To find...or to lose? All around me, people don't stop yearning. Did they lose or did they find? I can't say. A motherless child, who is raised by a heartless father, has no way of knowing. He lacks a first love. The love for his mother and father. That's the source of his awkwardness, his naiveté. You said to me, as the snow whirled down on us in Winterfell, "Stay." But I didn't do it. There, my love, is love lost. That's why I've never stopped wondering, since that day: Where have you been? Where are you now? And you, the shining pinnacle of my regrets, did you lose or did you find? I don't know. And I will never know. It hurts to even remember your name, my love. And I don't have the answer. But this is how I like to imagine it, the answer. In the end, my love, we have no choice. We have to find.

- - -

Brienne dropped the paper, swiping at the tears in her eyes.

“Oh Jaime,” she sighed, feelings of nostalgia bubbled in her. Now that so much time had passed, it no longer hurt to think of him. And her mind could only think of him now. Jaime with his part-time irksome, part-time cheeky smile. And his mischievous green eyes. Or his gazelle-like gait. Or the way he smiled and she felt like it was just for her.

It was nice to feel like that.

It was nice to feel warm at the memory of Jaime and not angry at herself for remembering him.

She traced the text on the glossy paper of King's Landing Chronicles. Sansa had mailed it in from the mainland with the insistence that she read it.

When Brienne and Jaime had stopped seeing each other nearly eleven years ago she'd been heartbroken and distraught. The memories in Winterfell had quickly proven too much and she left her new home for her old one. It was a comforting choice in the end. There was something welcoming that she felt on Tarth that she had not felt before. Something that perhaps the change she sought inside of her, and had experienced on the mainland, allowed for as she sought to build a life of her own.

Over a decade since, and she felt calm in knowing she’d met that goal. That her life in smalltown Morne was something that existed without ghosts of her dead mother and siblings and memories of a man she expected would never enter her life again.

Unburdened, she sat comfortably at the dining table her father had carved for her and her family. The laughs from her children, young and precocious and so full of love, teased into the house through the open windows. They were accompanied by the squeaks of skin against water and thick plastic as her children went through the slip-n-slide she’d made for them, over and over again.

Oh, how she loved Gal and Alys.

The choice to embrace motherhood and start a family after she’d given up on ever finding love again, had been easily the most rewarding thing in her life. It was something she had wanted as much as she wanted to fall in love. Raising her two had been a balm for so many internalized wounds, and the pain that used to flare constantly became forgotten and relegated to a dusty corner of her memories.

And yet to know that she’d still been on his mind brought a sharp relief to know that Brienne of yesteryears had not been a fool. She’d been in love and had been loved. None of that could be called a mistake.

Learning what had been in his mind, she could say, too, that the end was not her fault. Here was physical evidence to put her fears at bay and tell herself “Look, you are whole! It was him who was broken!”

But it sounded rather cracked and jaded and Brienne wasn’t feeling cracked and jaded herself. She had loved him and he had loved her.

Not all who loved were allowed to be together. It was the theme of her own parents’ tragically short love story and she would be remiss to think it could never apply to her. As sad as likening her story to her mother and father's was, she could also find the evidence she needed to point out to herself that what had existed in those brief months was a love story.

It had to have been. Because once he’d left, Brienne had never wanted to love another man again. The ending might have been harsh, but the rest of it was a fairytale. No one could ever know her, ever understand her, as well as he had. She had been prepared to never be loved in life and now that she had experienced a love to end all loves, she didn’t ever want to fill in the gap with a poor replacement.

She no longer felt like she needed to.

Brienne shook her head and stood up from the table, brushing her fingers gently over Jaime’s words one more time.

“Love bugs!” she called out, making her way down the back porch, pulling off her own clothes to reveal her own swimsuit underneath, “Wanna learn a trick you didn’t know Mommy could do?”

She jogged slowly past them in the direction of the nearby cove.

“Yeah!” they screamed joyfully.

They took off as fast as their much smaller legs could take them and crashed into her sides, each grasping for one of her hands. Alys was quick to intertwine her long, nimble fingers with her mother’s left, while Gal was clumsily forceful as he wrapped both his hands around her right in an airtight clasp.

Leading the children on, Brienne brought them to a short cliff overlooking the cove and kneeled before them, “Now we’re only ever going to do this with Mommy’s permission and an adult with you okay?”

The two of them nodded vigorously, enthusiastic at the prospect of whatever she was going to show them.

“Alright,” Brienne grinned, standing up and letting go of their hands. “Watch me and do what I do.”

Putting a good distance between her and the cliff's edge, Brienne squatted down into a runners position and quickly pressed off against the earth with a mighty push, speeding towards the edge. On reaching it, she pushed off with all her might and yelled into the air with a freeness she rarely allowed herself.

“Goldenhand!” she screamed, like a knight invoking the legends beside her into battle.

She’d forgotten what it was like to freefall in exposed air, exhilarating and a little bit terrifying all at once. But the air was warm and her hair experienced its own descent as gravity pulled her down and she couldn't help the want to yell again. So she did.

The ocean welcomed her lovingly when she breached the surface and for a moment, Brienne thought of Jaime, taking her just outside of Casterly Rock, encouraging her to take the leap.

Above the children cheered when she surfaced, then swam backwards to put space between her and the bottom of the cliff.

“Your turn!” she yelled, cupping her hands to her face.

Gal and Alys looked at each other. They grinned and moved away from view.

With them out of sight, Brienne briefly allowed her eyes to close, lapsing into that memory of Jaime, sunkissed and smirking as he pulled her after him into the water. His bright, light laugh as she screamed bloody murder and he yelled out “Goldenhand!” like it was the normal battle cry for this sort of event.

“Goldenhand!” the children screamed out in delight and she opened her eyes to watch Gal and Alys catch air. Of course, without her there, they’d decided to jump in holding tightly to each other’s hands.

Brienne couldn’t stop the love that overwhelmed her heart.

Their identical faces were lit with joy. Their golden hair fluttered in the Tarth wind.

When they surfaced, they paddled over to her, trying to talk over the other in their battle to hold all her attention. Their emerald green eyes glittered with impish glee.

[dcmidivine]

boiling point || jaime & alec

date: late april, 2019

summary: tensions run high, jaime makes alec cry

Jaime had been acting off lately, and Alec was starting to get worried. They knew the cause was stress, and they knew how Jaime got when he was stressed, but this time around none of their efforts to cheer him up or relax him were successful. University was far from Alec's realm of expertise, but he hadn't been near this bad around midterms– surely finals weren't so much harder? 

The time they had spent together recently had been nice, but rare. Jaime was busy, that was obvious, and Alec tried to understand, but they had missed him being around. When he agreed to come over to study instead of staying in at his place, they were delighted– until he showed up with his books to actually study. Alec checked their phone and decided enough time had passed in silence. They settled down on the floor at his feet and rested their chin on his knee, watching his face. "How much do you have left?"

Open books surrounded Jaime as he sat cross-legged on the couch in the Tyche cabin, his notebook balanced on his knee. In one hand he held a pen, in the other, his music theory anthology. Finals started in three days and he had an exam in each of his classes, as well as two term papers, a presentation on a famous composer, and a recorded performance of an original song - all due in the span of a week. Stress radiated off Jaime in sickening waves. If you looked carefully, peering past the glare of his glasses, you could see a faint change in the color of his irises. He was lost in thought, barely registering Alec's words. "Hm? What?" He looked at his partner distractedly, pushing his glasses back up his nose with the end of his pen. "What did you say? I missed it, I'm sorry."

Alec smiled up at him and folded their arms on his knee to rest their chin on top of their forearms now. The colour change in his eyes caught their attention and their smile faded slightly. “It’s okay. I was just asking how much you had left?” Their voice raised hopefully at the end of their sentence. “We could do something, play a game maybe? Or just hang out?”

"Oh, um, I have...." Jaime trailed off, remembering a detail he wanted to include in a paper. He began writing furiously, the end of his sentence unfinished. He reached the end of his page and glanced up, looking surprised to see Alec resting on his knee. "Sorry, I-" Jaime shook his head, sorting out his thoughts. "A game?"

Alec watched as he scribbled down some more information and sighed quietly. They knew he didn't mean to ignore them, but it still wasn't a pleasant feeling. Be patient, they reminded themself and inhaled slowly through their nose, smiling at him again. "If you have time to take a break? It doesn't have to be game. Just something we can do together."

Jaime nodded, still not properly focused on Alec as his brain swirled with topics for term papers and snatches of song lyrics. "Together," he echoed, nodding as he flipped to a new page in his notebook. He patted the couch beside him, moving his books into a stack so his partner could join him on the couch, "We're spending time together right now," he looked at Alec, brows knit together. Jaime gave them a preoccupied smile and offered his hand to help them up. "C'mere."

Alec took his hand and climbed up onto the couch next to him, crossing their legs as they sat facing him. They put one hand on his shoulder, pressing their thumb into muscle to try and loosen up some of his tension. “Is the work going good?”

He closed his eyes the moment Alec's hand landed on his shoulder. Jaime hummed in acknowledgement, letting himself relax into the massage from his partner. At the mention of work, his shoulders tensed. "Unfortunately, no. The list of tasks I need to complete is endless. The due dates are all looming. The exams seem impossible. The composition I need to prepare falls deaf on my ears. I don't know when I'll complete it all."

Alec sighed again as Jaime listed everything he had to do, though this time it was in sympathy. They may not understand anything about schoolwork, tenth grade somewhere far back in their memory, but they knew how important it was to their boyfriend. Not that it would make them worry less. "Okay, but you've been at it for hours," they pointed out, clambering up to sit behind Jaime on the back of the couch so they could rub his shoulders properly. "You should take a break to clear your head! And eat something, definitely. Want me to make dinner?"

"Three hours is nothing," Jaime countered, a note of defeat in his voice. He tabbed backwards in his notes, remembering a detail that would be perfect for one of his papers. His posture remained stiff, even as Alec tried to rub his shoulders. "No, no," he shook his head. "That'll take too long, it's okay. I'll eat later."

Alec frowned now that Jaime couldn’t see their expression and hunched over to rest their chin on his shoulder, carding their fingers through his hair. “C’mon, Jay, you gotta eat something. Did you have lunch? You don’t even gotta take a full break, just enough to get something in your system.” They turned their head and kissed his cheek. “Everything’ll still be here when you get back.”

Jaime resisted the urge to duck his head. He knew Alec was just trying to be supportive, he knew he should be appreciative of the care he was being shown, but all he could focus on was his inability to retain the information he was studying. "Lunch?" He scowled, though they couldn't see. "I think I had a granola bar...maybe." He exhaled through his nose when Alec kissed his cheek, trying to smile. His eyes were starting to ache and he pushed his glasses up into his hair so that he could rub his eyes with his knuckles. Jaime's irises were even lighter still, the air around them felt heavy. "Alec, I don't need to eat right now. Really." He tried to keep the edge out of his voice, a strained smile flickering across his face.

Alec sat back when Jaime responded, deterred by the tone in his voice. They ran their tongue over their teeth as they made up their mind whether to let it go or not, and slid back down to sit beside him. "You'll think better if you're not hungry," they pointed out, tilting their head towards the kitchen. It was always difficult for them to think on an empty stomach, so they imagined it was the same for everyone. "You don't even need to stop for long, I can bring it to you? At least have some water. Please?"

He opened his mouth, about to dismiss their offer again but decided against it. "Don't...you don't have to cook for me. If you really want me to eat, I'll help make something. And I'll drink some water." Jaime nudged his water bottle with his foot before picking it up. He ran his other hand through his hair, taking a few deep breaths to calm the buzzing in his skull. "Really though, I- it's fine, Alec. Just a mountain of work." He opened his bottle and took a sip, turning away from them.

Alec chewed their lip when Jaime turned away from them and moved down to kneel on the ground at his feet again, resting a hand on his knee and leaning to one side to try and catch his eye, brows creased. "Jay?" They pressed their cheek into their shoulder, watching his face, chest tight with worry. "Are you okay? I really don't mind making food. But I'm worried about you."

“Alec, I’m fine. Really.” Jamie squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the pressure building behind them. When he opened them again, he focused on Alec, his gaze softening as he held their eyes. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me, love.” His voice seemed to lose its energy as he reached the end of his sentence, fading mid-word. Still, he tried to smile, giving Alec’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

If anything, Jaime's attempt at reassurance only served to make Alec more worried. They turned their hand over to hold his, sitting back on their heels as they frowned up at him. "At least move to one of the card tables. Your back's gonna be killing you if you stay leaned over on the couch like that."

“Alright, alright.” He sighed before acquiescing to Alec’s request. Jaime scooped up his stack of books, placing his notebook on stop and stood up. He glanced at his partner before heading to the card table. “Is it okay that I’m here to study? Or do you want me to leave?”

Alec followed Jaime over to the card table and perched on the edge, still watching him. They furrowed their brows at the question, cocking their head to the side like a dog. "Why would I want you to leave? I never want you to leave."

Jaime inhaled through his nose, setting out his notebook and the book he had been reading. After a moment, he turned to Alec. "Because I'm wasting your day. You want to do things, have fun, play games. And I need to study for my exams, write my papers, create a composition. I know this-" he gestured to himself, dropping his hand in his lap. "This version of me is not the one you want to spend time with."

Alec reached over to touch his shoulder, shaking their head before Jaime even finished speaking. "Aw, Jay, no." They frowned at him. "Every version of you is one I want to spend time with. I love you all the time, not just when you're happy."

“That’s just not true.” Jaime’s eyes flashed. He returned Alec’s frown, disregarding the second half of their statement. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

Alec withdrew their hand, unsure. They blinked a few times, not used to this tone from their boyfriend. "Uh." They swallowed. "Like what?"

Jaime pressed his lips together, trying to reign in the negative feelings bubbling to the surface of his emotions. He closed his book and spoke without looking at Alec, “Like I’m a stubborn child.” He tried to blink the ache out of his eyes and waved a hand at his notebook. “Do you understand how important this is to me?”

"What? Jaime, no." Alec shook their head vehemently, chest tightening. "I'm not– of course I do! I know how much this means to you." They reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder again. "I understand. I just think you still need to take care of yourself, I've never seen you so stressed before."

"I'm perfectly capable of caring for myself, Alec." He exhaled a puff of air, frustration written all over his face. Jaime opened his mouth to say something else but cut himself off when Alec's hand landed on his shoulder. He seemed to deflate a little bit, sinking slightly into their touch, though his expression was still unreadable.

Alec rubbed their thumb over his shoulder as he leaned into their touch, relieved at even the small gesture of surrender. They scooted over an inch on the table so they were closer to him. "I know! But sometimes you need a little reminder. And this seems like one of those times?"

Jaime sighed, letting his head fall into his hands. He shoved his glasses up into his hair so that he could press the heels of his hands into his eyes. No matter how much pressure he applied, the headache kept building. It was behind his eyes, in his temples, in the air. "What I need," he murmured. "Is to finish my work for the semester..."

“It’ll still be here after a short break.” Alec felt like a broken record at this point, but they didn’t want to let it go, not when they could see the state Jaime was in. They chewed their lip and dropped their hand back to their lap. “Is your head hurting? I can get you some water. Or Advil?”

A break from the avalanche of work on his plate sounded so enticing, Jaime almost agreed. Something held him back, something more than the pounding in his skull. He lifted his face from his hands, looking at Alec; his glasses were still perched atop his head so they were nothing more than a large blur on the card table. "No," he sighed, knowing he was not experiencing a normal headache. "Look, Alec, I need really to study. If that's going to interfere with your engaging afternoon of-of hanging around your cabin and daydreaming, by all means, let me know." Jaime cut himself off, surprising himself with the bite in his tone. He looked at Alec with wide eyes. "I-"

Hurt flashed across Alec’s face at their boyfriend’s words and tone, and turned their head away from him to hide their expression before they remembered he wouldn’t be able to see it anyway without their glasses on. They swallowed, then nodded and hopped off the table. “Is there anything I can do to help, then?” they asked, voice carefully calm past the lump that had risen in their throat. “I can read, or take notes?”

Jaime blinked, seeing the blob that was his partner move. He slid his glasses back onto his face and rubbed his temples. "Sure," he sighed. "Yeah, I guess. Whatever works. Um," he shuffled some papers and pushed a packet Alec's way. He placed a stack of blank index cards and a pen on a table next to them. "If you could, um...write the notes from this study guide on the cards...?"

Alec nodded and pulled a chair over to sit in front of the cards. Picking up the pen felt weird– they could barely remember the last time they wrote something on paper instead of typing it. Still, they were determined to help in some way even if it wasn't getting their boyfriend to eat, so they ducked their head down and started copying the notes over onto the cards. "You got it!" they affirmed.

He hummed in acknowledgement, his nose already back in his music theory book. Without looking up, he took detailed notes; his cursive handwriting flowed across the page. "Thanks," he mumbled, realizing he hadn't said anything. Fifteen minutes later, Jaime finished annotating the chapter he was reading and looked over at his partner. He picked up one of their completed flashcards, studying it. His face quickly morphed into a look of confusion. "Uh...Alec?"

Alec finished the one they were writing and turned to look at him, tucking the pen behind their ear so they didn't misplace it. They smiled at him. "Mhm? Everything okay?"

"These are..." Jaime closed his eyes, inhaling sharply. Frustration started to rise up in his chest all over again and he tried to swallow the feeling, but the wave crested and his words crashed out. "Did you do this intentionally?" He waved the card in their direction. "These are all botched." He rifled through the stack of flashcards Alec had completed. "Everything is spelled incorrectly. The notes are unclear. I don't understand. You just had to copy...Is this- Is this just a joke to you?"

Alec's heart dropped in their chest and they swallowed, looking at the card they were working on and comparing it to the notes they were copying to try and see what he was talking about. The harder they focused and the higher their stress level rose, the more the letters blurred around, and they blinked as they looked back at their boyfriend. "I... what? No!" They shook their head, pulling one of the cards they had written back and trying to spot the mistakes on it, eyebrows scrunched together in concern. "No, no, it's not. I can do them over? Are they that bad?"

"No, no- Alec, just," Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose again, closing his textbook roughly. "Forget it." His headache was back with a vengeance, pounding in his ears. The waves of frustration were only growing; Jaime hadn't anticipated this feeling but he could not seem to quell his irritation. He stood, gathering up his stack of textbooks. His tone was sharp when he spoke, his eyes were gleaming. "Just forget it, Alec."

Alec slowly put the card back on the table, taking a moment before turning to face Jaime. They hugged their arms and stood up after a couple seconds. “Are you leaving?” they asked, their voice soft to try and cushion their boyfriend’s tone. “I can do the cards over, I really don’t mind- or, um, I can quiz you? Or make dinner? Or just go up to the loft and leave you alone? Or- you don’t have to go, Jay, come on, it’s still early. We could go up to the roof? That might be a good place to study, it’s still light enough out, and pretty quiet, I can help you carry your things up! But we’ve barely seen each other lately, I can find something else to do so I don’t mess up your notes?”

Alec's initial question was too much for Jaime to answer in the moment, so he skirted past it. He dropped his pen on his stack of books and rubbed his eyes, trying, trying to get the ache to go away. Alec's expression tugged at Jaime's heart, but he was too far gone into a spiral of frustration to do anything about it. "I'll do them over," he said dismissively, giving them a sharp look. Alec's barrage of questions came in time with the pounding in Jaime's skull. He just stared at them, eyes blazing a poisonous green. The air around them felt different but he was heated, unaware of the affect he was having on the space. "No, Alec. Don't cook. Not for me. It's still early, you have plenty of time to do whatever you want, and I have plenty of time to go home and study in peace." Though he wanted nothing more than to go up on the roof and sit with Alec, he had started this fight and it was too late to turn back now. His tone, like his gaze, was uncharacteristically acidic. "You've helped enough."

The air pressure around them seemed to shift and Alec winced, touching a hand to the back of their head as a spike of pain shot through. It was easy enough to ignore considering how much their heart hurt in comparison with the look their boyfriend gave them. They shrunk under his words, rubbing one of their arms. "I can leave you in peace," they said quietly, scuffing one foot along the ground. "Just stay, c'mon."

Jaime flexed his fingers and balled his fists at his side. The hurt that flashed across Alec's face should have been enough to calm him down but the words tumbled out. "Leave me in peace? When have you ever? Your chatter never ceases. You want everything to be fun, to be a game. Does your head ever leave the clouds? Come on, Alec" His eyes flashed as he clenched his jaw.

Alec bit their lip as the pounding in their head increased and they let out a small pained sound that was more of a whine. Jaime had never snapped at them like this before- they hoped his words were just from stress, not something he thought about all the time. They stared at the ground by his feet. “I can be serious,” they mumbled, thoughts blurry past the building headache. “I could be quiet if you want. I could, I promise.”

Jaime hadn't realized that the pressure in his head had begun to fade until he heard Alec whimper. He was still to upset to process what that meant, blind to power rolling off him in waves; it was out of his control, even if he had noticed. "Alec, stop. Just-" He pushed his glasses up his nose. "You don't have to do anything for me. No promises. Just...stop."

Alec looked up at Jaime now but had a hard time focusing, unsure if their blurred vision was from the ache still building behind their eyes or from the tears starting to well. They rubbed their eyes, but the pressure just made the headache worse and they whimpered again. "What are you..." They pressed their palms into their temples to try and ease the pain enough to focus. "Why're you saying this?"

"I can't do this." Jaime was too busy aggressively shoving his books into his backpack to look at Alec. All of his senses were in overdrive and he just wanted to be rid of the poisonous feeling in his chest. "I can't do this," he repeated, still not looking at them. He turned to pick up his water bottle, still on the floor by the couch, and caught sight of his reflection in one of the pinball machines. Jaime flinched, shocked to see the radioactive glow of his eyes. His anger faded to a dull hum as his heart began to race, finally realizing that the extra element he had been feeling had been his powers betraying him. Alec's tears, the sound of their voice...it made even more sense when he realized that they were in pain. He spun around to face them, eyebrows knit together when he saw their face. "Alec...Alec, I'm so sorry. I-" Jaime lifted a hand but quickly dropped it, distraught at the effect his wayward powers were having on them. He could feel tears welling up in his own eyes and took a step back, chest heaving as he began to hyperventilate. "I'm sorry..."

Alec squeezed their eyes shut then pressed their hand over them to block out more of the light as the migraine reached its peak. They crouched down as though that would make it better and hunched over, burying their face in their arms as they listened to Jaime packing all his things away. They wanted to ask him to stop again but it was difficult to keep a thought still past the stabbing pain, the hum of the machines, and Jaime's voice. Only when he stopped speaking did the headache dull enough for them to lift their head from their arms, though they didn't risk opening their eyes in case it made it worse again. Blindly, they grasped at the air in front of them, trying to take his hand, or arm, or whatever they could reach. Gradually, they were able to start to think again, and they wiped the tears from their face, careful to move slowly so they didn't jolt their still aching head. "What can't you...?"

Watching Alec hold their head in pain as they dealt with a migraine that he had caused was too much for Jaime, as he spiralled into a panic attack. He was shaking his head, eyes wide in shock, his breathing rushed and uneven. He took a step backwards, closer to the door, trying to find something, anything, a switch in his subconscious to turn off his powers. Though his eyes returned to their normal color, his lack of control over what was happening to them only sent Jaime into further panic. When Alec reached out blindly, he felt hot tears threaten to spill over. "I can't do this, I-I can't." Jaime's voice broke, his hands trembling as he took another step backwards, reaching for the door. "This, us. I'm sorry. This is- Alec, this is over. We're over. I-I have to leave." He hesitated before opening the door, looking over his shoulder at Alec. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

"No, no no no." Alec scrambled up to their feet, using a chair for balance when they stood  too quickly and lights flashed over their vision. They opened their eyes to see him and shook their head, trying to ignore the pain. They desperately wiped tears off of their face, but they kept coming. "No, Jaime, no, no, please don't."

Jaime couldn't stand it any longer; he shook his head at Alec, still taking ragged breaths. A hollow feeling had started to form in his chest, replacing all of the anger and frustration that he'd allowed to build up over the past few months. He pushed the door open, turning over his shoulder to look at them. The tears running down their face only made him feel more hollow inside. "Alec, I'm sorry." He shook his head again, his voice hoarse as he spoke. "I have to leave, I'm sorry." Jaime slipped outside,  taking off for the Apollo cabin, head ducked, moving as fast as he could without running. He burst into the cabin, scaring one of the cats, and beelined for his room. Slamming the door behind him, Jaime dropped his backpack and sunk to his knees, back against the door. He cradled his head in his hands and let out a sob.

[shipping-receiving]

Fictober 2019 Day 14: “I can’t come back.”

Rating: T | Word Count: 1872 Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire / Game of Thrones Relationship: Jaime Lannister / Brienne of Tarth Tags: Alternate Universe – Office Notes: A continuation of the story from Day 12 (Tumblr / AO3)

(read on AO3)

//////

For the past few weeks, Brienne Tarth has been dancing with Jaime Lannister.

Not in a club. Not in a ballroom. Not even in one of those classes at the gym that Margaery keeps trying to drag her to.

They have been dancing in the Stormlands office of Lannister Corp. For weeks.

When Brienne had returned to her cubicle, job still intact even after punching the son of the owner of the company in the face—everyone in the office was bewildered. “He felt bad,” was all Brienne could say, lamely, to anyone who dared to ask. She wasn’t quite sure herself how it had happened either. Their whole conversation in the hallway outside HR—the one which had ended, bizarrely, with him asking her to confirm her opinion on his looks—it had all felt like a dream.

Good to know, he had said. Like he really cared what Brienne thought about him. She didn’t tell anyone about that part. Especially not Renly, and Loras, and Margaery.

And then, the dance began.

She wasn’t conscious of the dance, for the first few days. Jaime had to walk by her cubicle if he wanted to go to the pantry, she reasoned. Or if he wanted to make copies of any documents at the copy machine. Perhaps it wasn’t the most direct route, but it wasn’t that much of a detour, either. He would walk by, and he would say her name in greeting. She would say his name in response. And on the way back, he would simply smile at her, the same half-smile he had given her when he had said, Good to know.

On the third day, once Jaime had passed her desk and offered her that half-smile, Margaery rolled over in her chair from her own cubicle.

“Brienne,” she whispered, even though Jaime was already out of earshot.

“Yes?” Brienne replied, absently, still preoccupied with trying to perfect the phrasing of the email she was in the middle of composing.

“What’s going on with you and Jaime Lannister?”

Brienne’s fingers paused on her keyboard. She didn’t like the slyness in Margery’s tone. “I wasn’t aware there was anything going on.”

Margaery swung Brienne’s chair to face her. “You’re telling me that you came out of that meeting with HR three days ago, and suddenly you’re on a first name basis with him, not to mention he’s been walking by your cubicle multiple times a day—and there’s nothing going on?”

“He needs to go to the pantry. Make copies,” she explained, already feeling the emptiness of it. She wasn’t sure what Margaery was trying to imply, at that point, but whatever it was, it was not a conversation she was prepared to have.

“He has an espresso machine in his office, Brienne. And an assistant to make copies for him.”

“Maybe he thinks mixing with the plebeians is good for office morale.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Brienne,” Margaery says, but Brienne had swung her chair back to face her computer before Margaery could continue, and insistently began typing again. She could feel Margaery rolling her eyes behind her.

As much as Brienne didn’t want to acknowledge the dance—she’d made that mistake before, with Renly, until she realised he was spending far more time with Loras—Jaime just kept walking by her cubicle. He didn’t have to, did he? He has an espresso machine, and an assistant. Margaery’s words bounced around in her brain, to her annoyance.

When the next week came around, Brienne felt compelled to respond, in some way. She started finding reasons to walk by his office, too. He had his own, of course, and it was behind a wall of glass, so she couldn’t greet him with his name the way he greeted her when he came to her cubicle. But she could smile at him through the glass, at least, and he could smile at her. Even if he was in the middle of something—a meeting, a phone call, whatever. Brienne guessed she was hard to miss, with her height.

That was how it went, for the first three weeks after the meeting with HR. They hadn’t even had a real conversation since that day. Unfortunately for her, Renly and Loras had caught on, too, and she was having to field questions and looks and comments from them in addition to Margaery. Given that other people in the office would stop their conversations abruptly whenever she appeared, Brienne knew she hadn’t escaped being the subject of their gossip.

But nothing had happened, really, between her and Jaime. Well, nothing besides Brienne not losing her job after punching him in the face. She wasn’t lying when she said again and again that there was nothing going on.

In any case, it felt safe, this dance. It was just greetings, and smiles, and nods of the head. Brienne suspected Jaime liked its safety too.

And then, the dance stopped. For three whole days.

All because she had been in the stairwell at exactly the wrong moment.

Brienne had the habit of hiding in the stairwell, sometimes, if she ever needed a breather in the middle of the day. She’d go up a floor or two, dust off a step, and just sit there. It’s somewhere to be away from everyone for a few minutes. But that day, the day before the dance had stopped for three days, she heard the door to the stairwell open, then close.

And then she heard Jaime’s voice.

“Cersei, please stop calling me.”

Cersei. That’s his sister’s name, isn’t it? Brienne found herself holding her breath.

“I can’t come back, okay? No—I won’t. I don’t want to, not anymore. I don’t want to deal with you, or your husband, not at that office, not in that city. I’m tired of all of it. If Father wants to keep me in the family business, he’ll have to settle for me being here.”

Oh, I really shouldn’t be hearing any of this, she thought to herself in panic. But she had nowhere to go.

“Don’t say those things if you don’t mean them, Cersei.” Jaime was practically spitting into his phone now. “Don’t you dare beg me for anything.”

There was an intensity in Jaime’s voice, in the way he was speaking to his sister, that disturbed Brienne. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was… strange.

Then, of course, she had to go and do the phenomenally stupid thing of dropping her phone.

The sound echoed in the stairwell. Jaime fell silent.

It wasn’t like Brienne had anywhere to hide, after that. She picked up her phone—her hands had been trembling, she remembers—and walked very slowly down the stairs.

Jaime didn’t say anything, when he saw her. He just stared.

“I’m sorry. I was—I didn’t mean to.” They were meaningless words, and she winced as she said them. But he still didn’t respond. So she slipped by him, and walked back to her desk.

The next day, Jaime didn’t come to her cubicle. Brienne took it as a sign that the dance was over, and she didn’t walk by his office again. It hurt, for some reason, which made her feel silly. But she was glad the dance hadn’t gone much further than that. It would have hurt more.

Three days after that, however, it just—resumed. Jaime walked by her cubicle, greeted her, just like it had been three days before. As if nothing had changed. As if she hadn’t eavesdropped on his conversation in the stairwell.

Brienne was mystified by the whole thing. But all she really had with Jaime was that first name basis, when it came down to it. It’s not like she could just ask him what had happened. And now it’s been a week since they started up again, and she’s walking by his office, holding a file tight to her chest, ignoring the pointed look his assistant is directing her way.

Then, Jaime introduces a new step in the dance.

He’s waving her into his office.

So she introduces a new step, too.

She pushes the glass door open.

“Brienne,” he says, just like he does when he walks by her cubicle.

“Jaime,” she responds. She can’t decide if she wants him to acknowledge the stairwell incident at all.

“You said I could ask you if I had anything I needed, didn’t you?” Jaime is leaning back in his chair, with a kind of practiced languidness, though he’s fiddling with a pen at the same time.

“Yes, of course.” Brienne is now very concerned about the direction this conversation is heading.

“You’re from around here, right? The Stormlands?”

Okay. I guess we’re not acknowledging the stairwell incident.

“Y-yes. Yes I am,” she manages to say. “Well, from the island of Tarth, actually, off the coast.” Of course it’s off the coast, you idiot, it’s an island. “Hence the last name.”

“Ah. But you’re familiar with the region.”

“I grew up on the island, but went to high school on the mainland, yes. And university.”

“Do you think you could show me around sometime?”

Brienne almost drops the file she’s hugging in her arms.

“What?”

“I’m planning on being here for a while, as you know.” As you know from the one-sided conversation you overheard in the stairwell. “Haven’t done much sightseeing so far. If you don’t mind playing tour guide, I could use one.”

Brienne is currently very confused, so she responds in the only possible way she knows how: “Oh. O-okay. Sure.”

“Okay. Good,” Jaime says. Her brain feels like it’s on fire right now, but if she’s reading him right, Jaime actually looks reassured that she agreed. “How’s this weekend? Or we can find some other time, if you have plans already.”

“I have no plans,” she answers, a bit too quickly. Great, now he thinks I don’t have a social life. She had answered so quickly, in fact, because she had wanted to get out of lunch with Margaery, whom she knew would spend the entire meal interrogating her about Jaime.

Obviously she wouldn’t tell Margaery why she had to cancel.

“Okay. I can… email you?” Jaime cocks his head expectantly, like he’s waiting for her to suggest a more convenient means of communication.

“Oh! Um. Texting is probably easier. I’ll give you my number.” She can feel herself blushing as she says those words, which is a step she had very much not wanted to introduce into the dance.

Brienne almost suggests typing her number straight into his phone, but thinks perhaps Jaime’s phone might still be a sensitive subject for them both. So she walks towards his desk, tears off a page from his notepad, and writes down her number.

“Here. Text me whenever,” she says, holding out the paper.

“I will. Thank you.”

When she’s almost back at her cubicle, she feels her phone vibrate in her pocket. She puts the file that she’s been clutching down on her desk—it was just a prop, really, for the dance; it’s filled with paperwork from a project that concluded more than a year ago. She takes her phone out of her pocket and looks at the screen.

It’s Jaime, the notification says. Just those two words.

[jaimetheexplorer]

I brought down by niks latest interview.Saying "J never needed redemp.He was a guy who certain circumstances in his life e.g. Kingslayer so then he needed to redeem himself bc he did this horrible thing when killing the Mad King. Then N said the redemp arc where he had to be good guy, stay with Bri etc that's not GOT.You cant erase ur prev life.Jaime bel that redeem urself meant redeeming his past and he couldnt. He can't cut off who he was.The idea of leaving C alone is impossible to him" Wtf?

2/2 Downhearted anon. Just that interview makes no sense. In prev season interviews, wasnt Nik wanting Jaime to escape Cersei for good and be with Braime forever, like he was the biggest Braime shipper??? I dont understand. Does he think ppl don’t remember stuff? Its a shame theres no way to ask him about this.

Dear Downhearted anon,

I have to admit I read only a short excerpt from that interview, so I might have missed some of the other content, but, from what I read, this is what I can say.

There are different layers to his comments, IMO. One is the take on the story, and the other is the justification of the writing choices. And, as much as I might vehemently disagree with the former, what I take issue with is the latter.

When it comes to the take on the story, we have to remember that he has to talk about the actual content of the show. The show, unfortunately, did go with the idea that Jaime is essentially doomed to never escape his past. I do not believe that is his arc in the books for many reasons, and I think it was extremely underwhelming, nihlistic and unsatisfying even just taking the context of the show into account. But, unfortunately, nihilistic and unsatisfying is what we got. The show was aiming for romanticizing incest and abuse romantic tragedy with JC, in the end (I actually think there was a far more disastrous chain of events at play, which required multiple OOC developments for multiple major characters just to arrive to Jon killing Dany - but that’s a longer story), and it is what it is. He has to talk about the reality of the episodes, not the alternatives.

If you take most of Nik’s comments, and go back to read D&D’s and Cogman’s interviews from the past, you’ll notice that it’s mostly stuff that’s lifted straight from their quotes, even down to the language: “good guy/bad guy”, “he doesn’t have a redemption arc”, “it’s just life, and he has made some mistakes”. I don’t know whether this is because he had a “final season” briefing with them and came around to see things their way and agree, or because he was told this is what he was supposed to say about the story, or because even though he doesn’t agree with it, this is what was written in the end and so this is what he talks about. His reasoning for saying these things is anybody’s guess and kind of beyond the point. But, where before he used to have his own take on the character and his arc, he’s now basically regurgitating the party line.

For my part, I never completely disagreed with the idea that Jaime does not need redemption per se. Jaime doesn’t need atonement for slaying the Mad King, for sure. He needs recognition for that. He needs atonement for a other horrible things he’s done, but even those (e.g., pushing Bran, the incest) are more about moral gray areas areas than villainous behaviour per se, since he’s never committed atrocious acts just for his own selfish gain, or for power, or because he enjoyed hurting and killing. More importantly, I have always seen Jaime’s story as more of an identity arc, where redemption is just one component. In that sense, I can agree with the take that that he is a “complex character who, at times, has made some terrible mistakes”. Jaime is not, and never was, a straightforward villain who needs to atone for his sins. He’s a much more complex and layered mix of sins and honour, and goodness and idealism turned bitterness and cynicism, and a messy product of living most of his life in toxic and abusive environments who, in some situations, has committed some horrible mistakes that he needs to own up to and face the consequences of, and who is trying to redefine and reinvent himself in the aftermath of some life-changing events such as losing his hand, meeting Brienne and growing disillusioned with Cersei. 

The problem is that, while D&D preach about Jaime being a complex character who does not need a ‘cheesy’ linear redemption arc, they also, in the same breath, justify an ending that shoves him precisely into a clear, black-and-white, simplistic category (”he just accepts he is a hateful man”) or display the psychological depth of a 5th grader (go check out their take on the sept scene in their Oxford Union Q&A and their inability to think in any more complex terms than “good guy/bad guy” or to understand that not all “bad” actions are equal). They’re not deep writers, and that shows painfully in their execution. But I can understand the “no need for redemption” arc, from a theoretical/philosophical perspective.

What I take far more issue with is justifying writing choices by attempting to play the realism card, or the adult writing card, or the “this is GoT” card, basically implying that everyone who dislikes or criticize it is being unrealistic, immature or unsophisticated for not accepting the only inevitable outcome to a story (I wrote a twitter thread about it this week). Just because your story has decided to depict things in a certain way, it does not mean that that is the only realistic option for the story, and that people who expected/wanted/hoped for something different were fooling themselves, let alone that it had to be written that way because that is how life works.

Sure, there are people who fail to break away from their (abusive, traumatic, toxic, what have you) past and move on, but there are also plenty of people who do, and who end up thriving. One outcome isn’t any more realistic or true to life than the others. And, while some might think this is a hyperbole, it is highly irresponsible, IMO, to say that being unable to escape toxicity and your past is “the way things are”, when there might be people out there who do struggle with trauma, toxic and abusive relationship (or know people who do).

On top of that, it is rather silly to imply that we were expecting some unrealistic, too-easy scenario, where Jaime flipped a switch and totally erased his past overnight. That implication is misguided, at best, and dishonest, at worst. We put up with four entire seasons of show-only “non-linear” storytelling when it comes to Jaime, and were incredibly patient with it. Wasn’t the point of those four seasons precisely to show that life is complicated and he couldn’t just let go of his past so easily? We watched that. It happened. Nothing about this was easy or unearned.

Had we been shown a Jaime who was 100%, stupidly and completely devoted to Cersei at every turn, cruel, evil, selfish and not caring about the innocents, of course expecting an outcome where he just leaves it all behind for a honourable wench or what have you would have been a ridiculous expectation to have. Indeed, back when Jaime did come across as that kind of character, nobody was expecting anything from him. He could have died with Cersei under those bricks and most wouldn’t have cared.

Instead, for years, we were shown a Jaime that did struggle between his toxic past/Cersei and his honour and, far more often than not, we saw his honour win out. While I can see an argument for saying that didn’t guarantee an outcome where he did break free of his past for good, it’s not like like there was no buildup or seeding for the more positive, less nihilistic alternative. So I don’t find it so far fetched to have expected the events of S7 to be the last straw that finally tipped the scales completely to the other side (especially considering how 8x02 was written very heavily to imply just that or, at the very least, did not seed any doubt).

By Nikolaj’s own admission in TONS of interviews, he had been fighting with D&D for years because he expected things to move in a certain direction and kept getting frustrated when they didn’t, or when they confused him. He wanted the exact same things we wanted for Jaime and in his relationships with Cersei and Brienne since SEASON 2. He might have resigned himself in the end to having lost the battle, but he behaved exactly like us for years. So, assuming he believes what he is saying, if I could talk to him, I’d ask him how is it that he got the same feeling of “expectation” for something that in the end never came? Maybe because the seeding for both options were there all along? Maybe because, if the seeding for both options were there all along, the alternative isn’t so far fetched and inconceivable after all? Maybe because if the alternative isn’t so far fetched and inconceivable after all, then what we got isn’t the only inevitable way this could go down? Food for thought.

Of course, I want to believe that he isn’t that tone-deaf and unsophisticated as an actor (and a writer) not to realize that the only problem with the way Jaime and JB were written in S8 was not the fact that they didn’t get a HEA. Ignoring the writing quality, for a moment, and just focusing on the writing choices, there were literally dozens of ways of writing a story that ended even in a similar tragedy (EVEN with Jaime dying with Cersei), that would have been far better and more satisfying than what we got. The problem isn’t that Jaime didn’t declare his everlasting love for Brienne or that he didn’t stay together with her. The problem is that we patiently waited through all the buildup and seeding mentioned above, for years, for a relationship that ended up being butchered within 30 minutes, destroying literally everything it ever stood for (first and foremost trust and respect - I am not going to list everything, but Jaime trying to sneak out without so much of a goodbye and being completely indifferent to her pain after she vouched for him and saved his life multiple times was not only OOC, but completely unnecessary to the plot, unless it aimed to destroy the foundations of their bond, way beyond the romance).

To conclude, I’ll leave you with GRRM’s own words, when asked about Jaime’s redemption arc that he, unlike the show, has explicitly stated he wishes to explore:

“I want there to be a possibility of redemption for us, because we all do terrible things. We should be able to be forgiven. Because if there’s no possibility of redemption, what’s the answer then?”

The show decided that the answer is that we don’t escape our past. We are doomed from the beginning and any attempt to change and move on is eventually futile (and that ended up being true of nearly every character in the show, not just Jaime). But that doesn’t seem to be at all the stance GRRM has on this whole thing, and I would dare anyone to tell me that GRRM’s vision and his writing are inferior, too easy, or less realistic than what we got from the show.

There’s no guarantee that Jaime will survive in the books, or that he and Brienne will get a HEA (although I do not rule it out at all).  But the fact that the man who invented these characters and this world has a different stance on Jaime and redemption automatically invalidates any nonsense show people can say about how this was the perfect and only way it could end, and that expecting anything different from this series was wishful thinking.

[janiedean]

I was just wondering what do you think about posts that excuse Cersei's behaviour because she's mentally ill, or that if you critique its because your ableist and hate mentally ill people? Or some variation/combination of the two? Like it just bugs me in general when people automatically excuse and even justify horrible, violent and abusive behaviour just because someone's mentally ill, particularly as someone whose been on the receiving end of that behaviour from mentally ill people.

... I think I’ve made my opinion clear, but very briefly and hoping that I don’t unleash the kraken:

c.’s issues could have been solved if someone had sent her to a child psychologist before the age of then in modern au. period. because someone who grows up not having a shred of regret over having thrown a supposed friend in a well when they were twelve over a menial thing either should have had a completely different upbringing or should have gotten therapy. which doesn’t exist in westeros, but anyway, when discussing c’s issues that’s the crux of the matter;

c’s issues also hurt other people and I’m not talking about j., I’m talking about everyone around her or mostly, and the point is that the moment someone’s issues also mean hurting others... your freedom ends where others’s starts. assuming that her MH issues mean that she’s justified in behaving the way she does means that having MH issues is a free out of jail card for hurting others, which... it’s not;

spoilers: all three lannister siblings have mental health issues. same as like, 90% of the characters in these books. I’m 99% sure that the only two POV characters who doesn’t have issues that would require immediate therapy are davos (and he’s lost four kids, he has his problems) and asha, probably, and asha is just... very functional but it’s a miracle she came out like that considering her background. everyone else has issues over issues to different degrees, so... at this point disliking anyone in these books with this reasoning would mean hating mentally illy people while at the same time 85% of the characters you like most likely also have mental health issues and I’m talking just that, because I mean... if someone likes bran and not doran or viceversa I’m not going to assume that they’re ableist since both characters are disabled and both can’t walk, but most likely it’s just a personality preference, so saying that if you don’t like c. it’s because you hate mentally ill people or are ableist to me is ridiculous because like... I don’t like c. and my top five has three pov characters who have obviously mental health issues up the wazoo and one who most likely had plenty (and two out of those five also have become physically disabled as well during the series), I have gone to therapy for a damned long time myself and I hate mentally ill people now just because I don’t like a character who has MH issues? sorry but that’s like... ridiculous. you’re allowed to not like some characters because their personality is not your thing regardless of the issues they have;

also: again, c.’s issues hurt other people. those other people have no obligation to stick by if they feel like it’s detrimental to their health, same as no one has an obligation to stick by someone who is detrimental to their MH or well-being and also has no intention of changing/is aware of that. like, I can get behind wanting to support someone you love whose behavior hurts you who has realized it and is getting help/is actively trying to get better, but if that person doesn’t care or isn’t aware then no one has an obligation to stick by if it hurts them, so assuming that people who don’t like c. or whoever else or that characters in the books should stick by c. because of her issues if it hurts them is imvho not a thing people should even bring up because it implies that people have an obligation to excuse actions that are hurtful when the person who commits them has no interest in getting better, so... nah;

also there’s critique and critique and disliking a disabled character doesn’t automatically make you ableist same as disliking a woman doesn’t make you a misogynist, but like, going outside cersei: people can dislike tyrion just because they don’t gaf about him or because they don’t like the character or because they don’t find his personality that charming, but the moment the criticism turns into calling him a monster or joking about his height or basically sounding like tywin when he talks about tyrion then it’s definitely ableism and to be quite honest when it comes to tumblr there’s a lot more ableist critique thrown at tyrion than at cersei, because the ten of us who dislike her openly do it because she’s terrible while recognizing that she has issues which explain why she’s like that but don’t justify what she does at pretty much almost any point ever, the army of people who meta about tyrion as if he’s these books’s ultimate villain when 90% it’s because he could be in the way of their ship or say that he has male privilege over c. who therefore couldn’t have abused him (YES I had to read that with mine own eyes) and the likes most likely should check their priorities because that’s not hating him bc he’s a character you don’t like, that reeks of ableism 101 and of having skimmed his chapters (also tyrion has MH issues up the wazoo too but I don’t see people on here mentioning it). same way, one thing is disliking cat because she’s not your type of character, another is the fact that this entire fandom seems to have decided that blaming catelyn for every horrid thing that happened in these books that would not have happened had she just stayed home with the kids which imvho shows exactly the level of not-so-hidden misogyny rampant around here/directed at her specifically. but I don’t think that everyone who hates cat is misogynist or does it because of misogyny, I just think that a lot of fandom bias against her is... very misogynistic;

to sum up the above thing, considering that c. is also straight up written as a negative character and grrm has said time and time again that it’s her point in the narrative, assuming that someone would dislike her just because she’s MH is pretty much fried air as we say here because given what she’s pulled up until now, I think that she has enough of a CV that people have more than enough reasons to dislike her without bringing her mental health into account. because her issues might explain why she’s like that, but they don’t justify for shit anything she does, and if that’s valid for knowing why theon was the way he was in wf but doesn’t justify him killing the miller’s kids, knowing why jaime pushed bran but doesn’t justify it, knowing why sandor doesn’t disobey ethically horrid orders but doesn’t mean he hasn’t done pretty fucked up shit etc., then it’s also valid for c. and I really would like for characters to be judged evenly, thanks.

also: everyone has their limits when it comes to understanding/explaining where a person committing wrong actions comes from. if people can relate to c. and/or see themselves in her issues and have compassion for her, that’s their prerogative and I won’t go bitch at them for it same as I appreciate if people don’t bitch at me for having compassion for theon or sandor or jaime or whoever else. but at the same time assuming that everyone has your standards is ridiculous. for me c. was irredeemable after she basically went and laughed about the red wedding/thought she was so much better than cat because cat went insane after seeing robb die because to me people finding the red wedding funny or hilarious or well-deserved is the ultimate thing that will make me stop caring about them. if for someone jaime having pushed bran out of the window is irredeemable as long as they don’t come to me complaining about why I don’t think it is, it’s their prerogative.

but assuming that all of us need to find c. redeemable or understandable or relatable because people who like her do is ridiculous because you can’t expect anyone to relate to your favorites just because you do, and calling out the social justice card is ridiculous because fictional preferences are what they are and you can’t force yourself to like someone you despise just because they belong to X category - I wouldn’t tell people they have to like jaime because he has ptsd nor I’d expect them to be automatically ableist if they don’t gaf about jaime either way and don’t make jokes about him losing his guts with his hand or about how he’s the stupidest lannister, I’d expect people wouldn’t tell me I have to like c. because she has MH issues or whatnot. because there’s plenty of reasons to dislike c. and none of them have to do with her MH and most of her have to do with her abusive behavior.

also, last thing: the one time I actually met someone who was a self-proclaimed ‘I empathize with cersei on a personal level’ person, after three days in which they were an asshole to everyone in the group we were, the moment I called her out on it after she had been even more of an asshole when someone else tried to discuss it reasonably, I got backhanded in the face twice for it. now, I handled it and tbqh I didn’t mind it half as much as I could have because I didn’t gaf about this person and barely knew them. I also know that this person had issues (and later went to therapy so good for them), but as much as I could sympathize with her issues, forgive me if I don’t really think I want to see again someone who barely knew me and saw fit to hit me in the face twice. now, am I ableist for that? I really don’t think so. it’s the exact same principle. someone else might have had another reaction to it, but I’m not obliged to give them a second chance since they hurt me first and no one would say I’m ableist for it. it’s the exact same argument just brought to fictional level. one thing is disliking a character because of their issues only (ie theon and the castration jokes), another is disliking them because you think they’re boring and/or they’re not your kind of character.

and people need to realize that their favorite character can’t be everyone’s favorite character statistically. like. none of our faves are automatically everyone’s faves and that’s fine because that’s how the world works. *shrug*

[hamliet]

Three Queens: Dany, Sansa, & Cersei

The moment three of your top four characters are pitted against each other in a fandom war or a canon war. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sansa’s been my favorite since season 1, and then we have Jon, Dany, and Cersei. Dany’s arc is pretty much exactly hitting the same beats as Jon’s arc, but in a yin/yang type way so that they are likely intended to meet in the middle. But I’ve talked about Jonerys before and now I want to discuss Sansa and Dany’s foiling, as well as Cersei’s and Dany’s, and what it may mean for Dany’s endgame in particular (Sansa will be fine, Cersei will die, that seems pretty narratively certain to me).

Sansa and Dany are both raised with stories and dreams: Sansa for love and being a queen, Dany for being a queen in another sense. She and Viserys were on the run her entire childhood from assassins, facing the scorn from people who would have loved them a few years ago (which is exactly where Sansa’s arc will take her after her father is executed). The same person is involved in both of these: Jaime Lannister, as the show showed us in the confrontation in episode 2.

Sansa always wanted marriage to a handsome man; however, when she’s granted a betrothal and then a marriage, it turns into hell--but through that hell, she learns to be a good ruler. Everyone comments on how well respected Lady Sansa is--wise and brave. She’s foiled with Tyrion in this aspect, in that she’s called the “smartest person I ever met” by Arya, and she tells her former husband in name, Tyrion, in the same episode, “you used to be the cleverest person I ever met.” Tyrion used to be a good hand of the king; now, he’s making pretty poor judgment advising Dany because he’s facing the same issue as Dany: power or love, but more on that another time.

But Sansa has made her choices. She chose her dream (not power, but a romantic fantasy) in the first season and went to Cersei after Ned told her they would be leaving, thereby leading to her father getting caught. Now she’s chosen her family and has come into her own. She has grown up, in other words, and she didn’t grow up when she married Ramsay Bolton or escaped, but when she decided to write that letter to the Knights of the Vale, when she stood up for herself, when she decided to do what she could for the good of her family (Jon & co) instead of just what she wanted (to kick Littlefinger to the curb).

Sansa is an adult right now, having crossed that hurdle of coming of age in the story. Dany (and Jon and Arya) are still trying to find out what growing up means for them, despite Dany (and Jon) being technically older than Sansa.  

For Dany, as she says, Viserys always told her about a throne, and she’s been fixated on that through all she’s been through each and every season. Therefore it’s worth asking whether this was what Dany wanted, or whether it’s a coping mechanism to cope with exactly what she tells Jon she’s been through in season 7: 

I have been sold like a broodmare. I’ve been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing through all those years in exile? Faith. Not in any gods, not in myths and legends, in myself. In Daenerys Targaryen.

It’s easier to survive these horrors if you keep a dream waiting for you, irl and in the show. Dany hoping for a future in which she has everything that was stripped from her before her birth is completely understandable and normal. But, it’s not much different than Sansa’s romantic fantasies: it’s a child’s dream.

The story is asking Dany if she wants to grow up, if what she wants is the love that made her happy, or the power fantasies her brother imbued her with when he couldn’t even handle it himself. I’ve talked about the dead literally rising and coming for them all and it’s symbolism before, and it’s asking Dany if she wants to be controlled by the dreams and wheels of the dead, or if she wants to make her own life. Because Dany’s caught between the desire to rule--control--and the desire to set people free (freeing slaves). Does she want to continue the Targaryen dynasty, or does she want to break the wheel, because she can’t do both. Is she making her own fate, or does her blood control her fate? She doesn’t want to be a cruel man like her father, as she tells Yara in season 6, but if she rules, then she has to take responsibility for the good and the bad in the Targaryen dynasty. Which she tried to do in regards to Rhaegar last episode, but... well.

The show is setting up a choice for Dany, as Sam outlined in the first episode to Jon: the throne, or Jon (love). Her dream has just been rocked; her faith in herself, her belief that there was a greater destiny guiding her because of her bloodline. Because it wasn’t even true. She is not the rightful heir to the throne; Jon is. But Jon doesn’t even want the throne, though he would probably support her if she is pregnant and won the throne, so the issue with the reveal, for Dany, is not that Jon is now a rival: it’s that everything she fought for and believed in is not true.

Not only that, but she’s seen that the North desperately wants its freedom after being horribly treated by the Lannisters, the Starks abused and murdered cruelly. Dany, who has always supported freedom for people, is going to have to ask herself what that means for a kingdom.

And it’s telling Dany was there for Sansa and Theon’s reunion. Like with Dany and Jorah, Sansa forgave Theon a terrible crime. Dany listens to Jorah now as her unofficial advisor, but I’ll be shocked if Jorah survives the battle next episode (’I’ll see you later’ is basically fiction’s most obvious death flag) and find it likely she’s going to lose that too. After Jorah, the only one she really has is Jon (she and Tyrion don’t seem close on a personal level), and her dragons (for now...) 

Like with Sansa, Dany’s entire life has been losing people she loves. Is the throne really worth it, if it means giving up the one person who matters most to her, who chose her not because of her crown but knelt to her crown because he loves her? With her faith in herself likely rocked and with the death flags for Jorah, she can either sink into grasping the throne at the cost of Jon, or she can grasp Jon and they can try to figure out how to swim together--without a throne weighing them down.

The reason I don’t see the Mad Queen option as likely is for a few reasons, but let’s discuss one: we already have a mad queen. Two would be... a bit much.

Cersei in the books and in the show perpetually fears being usurped by a younger, more beautiful queen. She at first thinks it’s Sansa, and then Margery, and now I’d say it’s clearly Daenerys. As such, Cersei has always been positioned as a foil not just for Sansa, but for Dany. She’s what Dany could become, if she chooses the throne and power over her loved ones. Because Cersei has always done precisely that. She couldn’t conceive of a life without power, and when Ned literally gave her the chance to escape with her life and her children, she refused, because she wanted power too.

Cersei’s desire for power really comes down to a matter of control; we even see it in how she loves her children. As Tyrion said, that’s her one redeeming quality, and yet, she desperately tries to maintain her power over her children.

Its root is, like Sansa and like Dany, Cersei had no choices growing up. As she tells Sansa during the Battle of Blackwater, she was raised to be sold to the highest bidder for her father’s power, whereas Jaime was given a sword.

When we were young, Jaime and I, we looked so much alike even our father couldn’t tell us apart. l could never understand why they treated us differently. Jaime was taught to fight with sword and lance and mace, and l was taught to smile and sing and please. He was heir to Casterly Rock, and l was sold to some stranger like a horse to be ridden whenever he desired

Because she has no control, now she compensates by being smothering. The conflict with Margery never had to happen but for the fact that Cersei hated that she would not be in control of her son’s choices anymore, and she’d given up on Tommen before he killed himself after she killed the woman he loved.

Cersei lost three children. Dany has three “children” in her dragons; honestly I’d be surprised if she doesn’t lose all of them by the end/if they aren’t the cost for love. Because Dany lost one of her children--Viserion--already not out of trying to keep dragons small and chained up (though she made that mistake at the same time Cersei did, but for far less petty reasons) --but by using them to do what dragons do: fly, and save the man she loves. As Tyrion warned her, going to save Jon north of the wall was a foolish decision especially if she wants the throne; Dany went anyways because when push comes to shove, she chooses love over power. There’s a pattern of just this in Dany’s arc whereas there is not in Cersei’s; I have no reason to think it would change.

For Dany and Jon... Jon clung to his principles and lost Ygritte last time, and Dany recently echoed Ygritte’s line about just staying out there forever, away from everyone. If they want to break the cycles that the wheel of power establishes in Westeros, and the cycles in their own lives, they need to choose to ditch that throne. That’s the ending I’m seeing built up for her now, especially given the foreshadowing about a human child between her and Jon last season, but we shall see.

[kallypsowrites]

Game of Thrones, The Lowest Point, and what it means for Season 8

Hello everyone. I’m here to talk to you today about ‘the lowest point’. The lowest point, for those of you who aren’t familiar, is the darkest place in the story. The moment where everything seems hopeless because a character has failed or gone through tremendous loss or died. The lowest point is one of the most important moments in any character arc because it tests our characters. Sometimes they rise stronger than ever and sometimes they succumb to their struggles. This is often what sets apart a tragedy from a drama.

In a three act structure, the lowest point typically is placed at the 2/3 or 3/4 mark of the story. You’ve probably noticed this if you’ve watched a film. With 20-30 minutes left to go the characters are often crying/moping/suffering. But then it’s more satisfying when we see them rise up to face the conflict in the final moments!

Now in a long ass TV show like Game of thrones, lowest points do work a bit differently. There are many lowest points throughout the season. But we can still identify each character’s LOWEST lowest point and see where it is in the narrative. And the show is eight seasons, with a total of 73 episodes. So we can kiiiiinda see where the lowest point fits in by using math (*gag*)In this way, we can predict what that says for each character in their final season of Game of Thrones.

So, the remaining Starks (Jon, Sansa, Arya and Bran) actually all have their lowest point at around the same place, which is thematically satisfying. Obviously the Starks have had MANY low moments, but we’re looking for the LOWEST of the low.

Sansa, for instance, is a character with many rough moments. But while Joffery is awful, her marriage to Ramsay is unquestionably her lowest point. She has been constantly losing her identity as a Stark to marriage but this is the very worst instance. This happens in season five and culminates with her being willing to throw herself off the wall of Winterfell on the off chance she might survive. Her lowest point happens roughly 2/3 of the way through the show because of that.

Arya also is a character of many bad moments from witnessing her father’s death to the red wedding! But her lowest point is when she begins to lose her very identity as a Stark in season five and six. Her loss of vision is what kick starts that lowest point at the end of season five. Roughly 2/3 of the way through the story. 

Jon lost his lover Ygritte which was sad, but his lowest point is when he DIES at, you guessed it, the end of season five. 2/3 of the way through the story. Worse than that he is BETRAYED for doing something he thought was right!

Bran is the only Stark who’s lowest point occurs in season six instead, when he surrenders himself to beoming the three eyed raven and the old Bran seems to “die”. But Bran wasn’t in season five at all, so if we just take the seasons he IS in, then his lowest point occurs around the 3/4 point of his story, so not too far off.

It’s not just the Starks who have a lowest point at the end of season five! So does Cersei! Her walk of shame marks her most emotionally vulnerable and awful moment and therefore occurs 2/3 of the way through the story. Losing her son was of course, awful, but this attacks her very sense of self. Again, often times the lowest point is not someone you love dying but when you start to lose all sense of who you are.

Tyrion’s lowest point is when he kills Shae and then his father. It occurs about half way through the story, so he’s set apart from the other five we’ve discussed here. He has tried so hard to be accepted by his family, so hard to prove his innocence, so hard to get his father’s approval. And this is the moment when he says FUCK it. He becomes a Kinslayer and he leaves King’s Landing in a box. He, at the time, seems to have forfeited the game. It’s no coincidence that the next time we see him he is drinking like its the end of the world. A lowest point at the half way mark is unconventional, but sort of makes sense in a TV show. There is Tyrion BEFORE he killed his father and there is Tyrion AFTER he killed his father. He is forever changed now.

But some characters have a lowest point that’s even FURTHER back. Let’s check out Jaime and Theon. They both have their lowest point in season three and...man...could it have to do with a loss of self? Hell yeah it does!

Jaime loses his hand in episode three of season three, about 1/3 of the way through the story. It is stated many times that his LIFE was in that hand. His sword hand. That has always been the one thing he KNEW he could do better than anyone. With that gone he has nothing. He doesn’t know who he is so he must figure it out again from scratch. And he takes a kind of long time to figure it out but we’ll circle back to Jaime in a sec.

Theon SUPER loses his identity through awful torture until he goes only by the name of Reek. His lowest point kind of lasts awhile, but I’d say the end of season three where he first abandoned his name, marks the true lowest point. A little over 1/3 of the way through the series. And he, like Jaime, takes a long time to rediscover it.

And then there’s Daenerys. Do you know when her lowest point happens? Her LOWEST lowest point?

It’s season one.

Now, Daenerys has had other lowest points of course. Locking away her dragons, being picked up by the Dothraki, losing Viseron. But none of them have been quite so intense as her season one loss. Toward the end of season one, Dany has finaly been coming into power, free from her brother. She has a plan to cross the sea and take back her throne! And she has an army willing to take her there! And, even better, she’s pregnant with a son who she already loves!

But then, in a very short span of time she loses her husband, her son and all of her armies. She is left with only a few scattered followers and she walks into a fire with the dragon eggs. At this point, her surviving or the dragons hatching is not a sure thing. This, for Daenerys, is a sort of desperate act to try to retain SOMETHING of the power she had only a few days previous. Fortunately for her...it results in dragons.

Let’s talk about the results of the lowest point real quick. The lowest point isn’t just there to make a character suffer. It’s there to mold them and push them along their arc. It’s there to make them stronger. So how does the lowest point effect each character? Well, Jon is brought back from the dead, escaping his lowest point. And with that, he is actually able to fight for his family again--the family he always wanted to be a part of. He, as a result, becomes King in the North. But he wouldn’t have been able to do that if not for being knifed through the heart. On a personal level thought...he’s more jaded but also more focused than ever on the true threat. The Night King must be stopped. It is the only way to save everyone.

Sansa, after enduring abuse after abuse, is tired of other people deciding her fate for her. Cersei, Joffrey, Littlefinger, Ramsay. They’ve all used her for their own means. She wants to take back Winterfell, with Jon, so they can be safe. That is Sansa’s main desire at this point. Safety. And she will do anything to ensure it. The reason why its so satisfying to see her face Ramsay and tell him to “sleep well” is because she is no longer letting anyone have control over her. She’s done with that. She as become harder and smarter.

Arya, after having her eyes taken, must of course learn to use her other senses and endure physical abuse from the waif. So she gets stronger. But the real struggle here is for her identity. All throughout the arc, there’s this thread that she can’t let go of Needle. It’s what Jon gave her! Its her last piece of herself! And by the end, instead of letting herself be killed or giving up on Arya Stark, she takes Needle and kills the waif before declaring “a girl is Arya Stark and I am going home”. Perhaps she has lost everything... but she will not give up her name or her family.

Bran, interestingly, is sort of still in his lowest point. He has become the three eyed raven and at this point it is uncertain whether or not he will find himself again or whether, as Mira says, he died in that cave. That question will surely be answered in Season 8.

Cersei, in response to being shamed...fucks up EVERYONE. She blows up the sept with the faith as well as Margaery and becomes queen of the Seven Kingdoms. They brought her low and she climbed higher than ever. But this is also at a tragic cost. She loses her final child and thus becomes colder than ever. Cersei’s story is a tragedy after all, so there is never TRUE triumph for her.

Now, Jaime and Theon are frustrating character, partially because they have to be made, unmade and reborn. And that takes time. In season one and two, they both kind of suck. Jaime sucks most in season one and Theon most in season two. Then, through a dramatic, traumatic event they lose themselves and are left wandering in the dark. Jaime TRIES to return to buisness as usual as a King’s Guard, but finds himself more distant from Cersei as she too is changed. And he fails to protect TWO of his children, which leaves him feeling more lost. But really, he’s stuck with the person who brings out the worst in him, clinging to the past that he had with her until he FINALLY realizes that its over and leaves her at the end of season seven.

Theon spends quite a bit of time as Reek, likewise, and even though he escapes Ramsay at the end of season five, he still is left with the fear of him and the trauma that losing himself inflicted. For THREE WHOLE SEASONS he was with Ramsay, and that has been traumatic. So season six and seven focus on him still not truly being Theon anymore. Now, at the end of season seven, he has finally claimed his name again, bathed himself in water (reborn) and is ready to save his sister.

Jaime and Theon are both frustrating characters because we WANT to see them embrace their new selves but it takes them awhile to do so. The Starks are easier to get behind because their reaction to their lowest point is more immediate whereas Jaime and Theon stall for a bit before finally getting it. It is frustrating but like...it’s also relatable in a way.

And then, back to Daenerys. Daenerys, as I mentioned, comes out of her lowest point with three dragons. By the end of season two, she has money. By the end of season three, she has an army. By the beginning of season four, she has Mereen. By the end of season five she has figured out how to ride her dragon and she has new advisors in Varys and Tyrion. By the end of season six she has the dothraki in addition to her other armies, a bunch of allies, and is ready to sail for Westeros.

There are lowest points interspersed in these developments, but over all, she has continued to gain more and more ever sense her lowest point. As her dragons get bigger so does her power. Now, some of that power has wavered as she lost allies in Westeros and now the threat of the dead is coming...but the fact that we haven’t seen Dany lower than the end of season one? That has implications for season eight. So what are those implications?

Of the remaining major characters, I think Jon, Sansa, Bran and Theon have already hit their LOWEST lowest point.

Arya and Tyrion are a toss up for me.

Cersei, Jaime and Daenerys have yet to hit their true lowest point. 

I’ll explain. For Jon, he has already died, and even if he dies again...that’s not really hitting a lowest point. If anything, the second time he dies, it will be after completeing his mission and therefore less devestating than the first time. He certainly won’t die via betrayal this time. And, best case scenario, he lives! But this is Game of Thrones after all.

For Sansa and Theon...I really don’t think it can get worse than Ramsay. Even if shitty things happen to them, there’s just...no sinking any lower than that.

For Bran, he’s still in the midst of dealing with his other lowest point so his fate in season eight will sort of be...a reaction that that.

Arya and Tyrion are a tossup for me because it kind of depends. If Arya, at any point, chooses vengeance over family, I suspect she will hit a new and tragic lowest point. If not, I think she’s good. For Tyrion, I’m hazy enough on his motives right now, there is a possibility that he will hit a lower point.

But then there’s Cersei, Jaime and Daenerys. Cersei’s whole life has been barrelling toward this self fulfilling prophesy. And if Jaime is indeed going to be her killer, the realization of that will fucking SHATTER her right before she dies as she realizes that she has been so blind.

For Jaime, the lowest point will likely be Cersei’s death. If his hand was part of his identity, she was another part. Now of course, I’m the biggest Jaime x Brienne shipper in the world and I DO THINK at this point he has left Cersei behind. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t going to be a kick in the balls when she dies (especially if he does it).

And then Daenerys. For a long time, its been a journey up for Dany. Ever since season one she has been rising. What’s the saying? The higher you go, the further you fall? I don’t know what form Dany’s lowest point will take, but I am fairly sure this season is going to be ROUGH for her and will probably have something to do with her sense of self as a Targaryen (since many of the true lowest points have looked at personal identity). On a narrative level, its been too long since the LOWEST lowest point, and its probs going to happen here.

Anyway, just a little story analysis I was thinking about this morning. Let me know what you think the season 8 lowest points will be! As always, keep discussion respectful :)

[insp1rationalx]

Spoilers for Game of Thrones season 8 episode 5 below

Just as a warning I did not enjoy this episode, and this post is going to be very negative. I have very few good things to say about this episode so if you genuinely enjoyed it then this probably isn’t the post for you. I don’t want to taint anybody’s perceptions if they enjoyed it, I hate spoiling the fun for others. On the other hand, if you like reading more negative (and maybe overly harsh) reviews or you just want a hot take then feel free to read on. 

Honestly, I really hate to say this, but this episode was by far my least favorite of the entire series for many reasons; the main reason that I’m going to complain about is the fact that the writing was not good at all in my opinion. This 1 hour and 20 minutes episode did not need to be this long. There was so much unnecessary editing and prolonged shots on the characters making shocked faces with no real purpose or meaning. Just a bunch of “Oh my gosh look at Daenerys! Oh my gosh look at the burning people!” Like yes we get it. No need to show each character doing it 10 times. I feel like this episode could have shaved off 20 minutes or even 30 minutes. There were so many moments during this episode where I realized I was just bored and unimpressed, and that’s horrifying to me because I have never felt that way before when watching Game of Thrones. There have been moments that I don’t find as captivating or interesting, but I would never go so far as to say I was bored and just excited for the episode to be over. It didn’t feel epic, or badass, or shocking, or tense. Just a whole lot of blah for me. 

I feel like the whole bit with Daenerys looking like she is going to show mercy when she hears the bells but then deciding to burn anybody anyway was pointless. The audience and characters already know Daenerys’ mental state isn’t great at the moment, and that the horrors of her life and immense pressure she is under are messing with her head. But Daenerys has never been one to go back on her word or her promises. She agreed to spare the people if she heard the bells, then did the exact opposite. It would have made far more sense for her to tell Tyrion immediately that she wasn’t going to listen to him and that she would just do what she felt is right. Tyrion had no reason to be shocked and mortified when Daenerys burned everybody. She is The Dragon, she is the Queen, and she has killed thousands before without hesitation. She views it as a sacrifice for the greater good which will come when she has secured the iron throne; he knows this better than anyone as her adviser. And Tyrion is incredibly intelligent. So why do I feel like he was so stupid this episode? There was no reason for him to help Jaime escape. Cersei has been nothing but cruel to him and Tyrion has no desire to help Cersei, and releasing Jaime was a guaranteed death sentence. Tyrion should have known his escape plan was destined to fail and that it wasn’t going to be an easy in-and-out secret operation. Its like a huge part of his character was completely forgotten. 

Jon Snow dealt with the same thing that Tyrion dealt with. Huge emotional shock and dismay at Daenerys killing people but again, Jon Snow, you already knew this! You saw the destructive power and iron fist she rules with. You know how she gains power. You know that she will slaughter, readily, easily, for the sake of the millions across Westeros and Esteros. So why do you look so surprised? I understand that there’s this ongoing theme with Jon Snow wanting to see the best in people and then being surprised when he sees their true colors, but this one was even more blatantly obvious than all the others!

Jaime spent 8 seasons building and developing his character, both individually and alongside Brienne of Tarth. For all of that development and change to be discarded in the span of one episode, for the sake of a love that was mutually abusive and downright evil with how Cersei has treated him, is such a slap in the face to all the writers and producers/directors who did genuinely try to make his character multidimensional. And what did this ending for him accomplish? It just tells us that Jaime will always go back to his old ways -- except we as an audience already know that he doesn’t. This change in his character was so sudden and it came out of nowhere, with weird timing. In a show that tries to tell us that people aren’t always as they appear, that even horrible people are capable of great change, and that forgiveness can be given to anybody who seeks it, they did a great job a making a character who neglects to take part in any of that in the end. What a waste of potential. Even if he didn’t end up with Brienne, its still a waste. 

And now Arya and the Hound. Well done Arya, you make it all the way to King’s Landing to kill Cersei and you turn and run as soon as the Hound tells you to. Since when do you take orders from him? Since when did you abandon the will to follow your own path? If she and the Hound faced Cersei and the Mountain together maybe they each would have survived, and Jaime could have gotten the fuck out of there without getting trapped in some dingy, dusty basement. Maybe the Hound wouldn’t have had to waste his strength and ultimately his life to take down an enemy that wasn’t even concerned with him at that point, because Arya would have been there to help him. Instead they think a slow-paced, anticlimactic fight is the way to go. Seeing them both go over the edge and into the flames was a relief because it meant I didn’t have to watch that pathetic fight any longer.

Also, Arya did nothing this episode except run around helplessly like the weak little girl we know she is NOT! Scared face after scared face, just her getting progressively grosser and weaker. Trying to help people even though its pointless and they aren’t going to do as she says. There was no point in her being in this episode if this is what we were going to get. She was so great at Winterfell! There was no need to taint her great victory against the Night King with this pathetic show. 

Cersei Lannister is a great character, although I do not like her in the slightest. But I will admit, she is crafty, manipulative, and ultimately very rational. She makes calm and informed decisions, and always has a game plan ready to be put into action. Instead we were given a weak and quivering Cersei, who is in denial about the fact that King’s Landing will fall and she will lose this battle. This would have been a great opportunity to showcase these abilities and skills of hers. Instead she is just degraded and the essence of her character is lost. It would have been believable if we saw a slow deterioration into this shell of herself, but instead we were thrust into it and expected to believe it. 

Yara’s part in the story was apparently forgotten. I guess shes just not relevant, so I don’t know why we wasted so much time on her. I would have really liked for her to ride in and face Euron but eh. Also, I’m glad Euron was killed, but I wish he wasn’t killed by Jaime. It just makes Jaime look like the jilted ex lover. 

Overall I felt no sense of urgency, stress, fear, anticipation, or tension in this episode. Even when all those scorpions were pointed at Drogon I did not care after the first few seconds because it was so obvious exactly what direction this episode was going to go. That paired with the shallow portrayal of grieving for Missandei that we were so graciously gifted put a bad taste in my mouth immediately. I wanted and expected far more from this episode. I feel as though this was a pathetic climax (or near climax) for such a great and intense show. I feel as though my time has been wasted. If the last episode follows in the footsteps of this one then I do not have high hopes for my enjoyment of it, which is terribly concerning because other than this episode, I do quite like this show and its characters. But hey, I’m just a fan. At the end of the day the writers and producers are free to create whatever they see fit, and I have little to no right to make demands. I’m just disappointed. I want to like it but I just couldn’t. 

Things I enjoyed in this episode

- Daenerys/Emilia Clarke is a goddess in my eyes

- Beautiful flying lizard breathes fire

- Cersei and Euron died

- ???? 

It means a lot when I say I disliked this episode almost as much as I disliked Avengers: Endgame. Because honestly... I don’t think I liked Endgame. Yikes. 

I’ll add more to this post if I think of anything else

[imagineyoungjustice]

1.5k Followers Milestone Drabbles 3/10

I need to cringe! I'd like to request a drabble where Bart decides to only speak in slang and dead memes for a week. He'd probably drive the team insane -Anonymous

Set in between season’s 2 and 3 but probably closer to the end of season 2! Also thank you guys once again for sending in your meme and slang suggestions I’ve never cringed harder when writing a drabble! -Terra

Tags: @ljblve​ @loverbug1123​ @aworldwideapart​ @wallywestie

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Also the easiest way for me to write this was to do a small collection of “mini scenes” in which Bart would use his memes instead of spending hours I didn’t have this week with all my assignments to make it one long story so I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted but this was the way I could push it out faster! Enjoy!

Monday:

           When Tim walked into the Watchtower that morning the last thing he expected was to see Bart, dressed in his Kid Flash uniform lying across a gap between two of the branches in the Watchtowers courtyard. He paused mid-step as he looked at the speedster’s placement, a faint flicker of familiarity pricking at the back of his mind at the rigid posture to Bart’s body. Then it finally dawned on him.

           “Bart… are you… planking?”

           “Fo’ shizzle Tim Drizzle.” Scratch that maybe that was the last thing he expected today.

           “Excuse me?”

           “You’re really harshing my mellow with all those questions, not very radical behavior of you man.”

           He’s sure his eyes were as wide as saucers by now as his mind scrambled to make sense of what he was hearing. He even pinched his arms a few times to make sure he was actually experiencing this right now and it wasn’t just some weird concussion dream.

           “Flash said he spent the whole weekend reading up on slang and memes, he hasn’t stopped speaking and acting like this ever since.” Jaime mumbled, his head resting on his palm from where he sat under a different tree. “I already tried explaining dead memes and dead slang to him, but I don’t think he’s quite grasped it yet.”

           Tim already knew this was going to be a long week.

Tuesday:

           Tim crouched among the underbrush of the jungle, using the thick foliage and natural shadows to conceal himself. The rain was light, but enough to make their stealth mission somewhat miserable with the wet seeping through the seems of their costumes and mud cling to their boots. They had been trudging through this for hours now, and now the end was in sight. There just ahead of them was the plant that had been pushing out a Reach-like drug under a new name. Kaldur had placed Tim in charge, giving him Bart, Jaime, and Vrigil to take it down.

           “Okay.” He whispered, looking over to his gathered team. “We need to do this carefully. Jaime, you and your scarab need to crunch the numbers, what are we looking at in terms of numbers and success percentage if we proceed with plan A?”

           Jaime paused, looking out over the small compound while the scarab did what it needed to do with its sensors. “Scarab says we’re looking at a thirty-two-point three repeating percent chance of success if we just barge through the front door in a full assault.”

           “Okay let’s not do that then. Static you’ll be on point.” Tim started dishing out orders for their plan B strategy when Bart stood up, pulling his red visor down in front of his eyes.

           “This is taking too long, time’s up let’s do this! LEEEEEEROOOYYYYY JENKINSSSSSSS.” Bart had sped off into the plant before any of them could stop him. The sounds of gunfire and shouting erupted from inside.

           “Oh my god we need to go in after him! Move let’s go!” Tim shouted vaulting over his hiding spot and rushing in through the front doors. Jaime and Virgil were thankfully right behind him. Inside they were met with complete chaos, enemies were scattered everywhere spraying gunfire in every which direction they though Bart was. Tim could only grumble as he threw himself into the fight, dodging what he could and taking the guards out one by one.

           Just when they thought they were in the clear, the last of the guards tied up and down for the count, Sportsmaster appeared on the catwalks above them. “I thought I heard the sound of you brats in here. Where’s the rest of your little team? Don’t tell me you’re all that came to shut this place down?” He laughed and jumped over the rails, landing on the concrete in front of them. Tim threw down some smoke pellets and circled around. Jaime and Virgil did their best to keep hitting him from range while Tim did his best to get up close and get a few hits in at crucial points. So far, it wasn’t working out well for them. He didn’t know where Bart was, but they were losing the fight badly, and they really needed his speed.

           With a few lucky hits, Virgil and Jaime were down and out. The small distraction from glancing at his teammates let Sportsmaster land a hit to him that sent him flying back and gasping for the air that had been knocked out of his lungs. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of yellow and red at the crate crane control panel, and one of the cranes lifting up.

           The crate came back around and smacked into Sportsmaster before he could advance on Tim, slapping him into the adjacent wall hard enough to knock him out. Over his shoulder he could hear Bart in the near distance.

           “HE NEEDS SOME MILK.”

           He would deny ever laughing as hard as he did later when he was giving his report on what happened.

Wednesday:

           Tim was speeding after Brick on his cycle, Cassie and Jaime right behind him. It wasn’t often the team ended up in high-speed chases but if Tim were being honest, he liked the change from the usual stealth missions where they had to watch each and every step. Bart had sped off ahead to try and cut off Brick and his thugs’ convoy. They had stolen important weapons tech, and they couldn’t afford to let him escape.

           “KF we’re losing ground where are you!?” Tim shouted into his comm. His motorcycle was fast but not fast enough apparently, especially with the way Brick and his gang were currently swerving through traffic. As much as he liked the change of pace, he did hate it when it was through the middle of a densely populated city.

           “I’m practically right there, just hang on tight for a moment everything will be totally tubular just wait!”

           “Ay mi dios.” Jaime mumbled from above. “You’d think with as fast as he goes, he would have at least caught up to current slang by now.”

           “Tell me about it.” Cassie replied, “I never thought I’d miss him saying ‘crash’ and ‘mode’ as much as I do right now.”

           “Let’s focus guys, please?” Tim called. “Blue can you get a shot at any of their tires yet?”

           Before Jaime could respond, they saw a familiar yellow and red blur cut into the street just ahead of Brick.

           “Damn Daniel, back at it again with the white vans!”

           Clever use, Tim just gave snort as Brick and the rest of his gang, very much driving white vans, had no choice but to suddenly swerve and crash into each other in order to avoid hitting Bart.

Thursday:

           Tim knew Bart was up to something as soon as he saw the shit-eating grin on the young hero’s face. The shaving cream in his hand was also a pretty good clue. With a small glance in the direction Bart was looking he confirmed exactly what was about to happen.

           “Bart if you value your life you will definitely abort exactly what you have planned.” His grin only grew wider.

           “Bart I promise you, as someone who lives with the guy. Don’t.”

           “SMACK CAM” Bart screeched as he used his speed to race forward, outstretching his hand at the last moment and slapping Batman right across the right cheek with the hand that was full of shaving cream.

           “Oh my god that poor dead bastard.” Tim whispered.

           It was dead silent in the Watchtower as everyone held their breath for the Dark Knight’s reaction. For his part he stayed silent as he wiped the shaving cream off his face, completely stoic before he turned to Barry.

           “Say goodbye to your grandson until he’s born Allen.”

           A muffled “YOLO” was the only thing Tim could hear as Bart sped away with Batman hot on his heels.

Friday:

           By now it was safe to say the entire team was sick of Bart’s new slang and meme knowledge. Sure every now and again Bart would have a clever use that would earn a small laugh or two, but for the most part they largely missed their mark prompting a lot of groans and sighs.

           Jaime had even tried bribing Bart with thirty bags of Chicken Wizee’s in order to get him to stop. It hadn’t worked so far. Nothing had, they were stuck in dead meme and dead slang hell until whatever this was had run its course with him.

           That’s why they all cringed as Bart walked up to the group. “What’s up my homeboys and homegirls?”

           “Bart we are literally begging you to stop.” Tim said.

           “No can do, haters gonna hate!”

           “Bart I will literally give you free Chicken Wizee’s for life if you stop.”

           “Lit, but as swag as that sounds, I’ll have to pass. Catch you guys on the flip side!” He called as he walked out of the room.

Saturday:

           “Hey Robin!” Tim just cringed and tried to ignore him, hoping that Bart would leave if he didn’t say anything. From the sympathetic look Cassie gave him, that wasn’t going to be the case. “Robin! Yo Rob! Robster! Robmiester!”

           He just sighed, “Yes Bart?”

           “Something came for you in the mail!”

           In a momentary lapse of judgement, Tim made a fatal error in his next choice of words. “Oh? What came?”

           “DEEZ NUTS.” Bart’s cackles could be heard all over the Watchtower. Tim was going to murder him.

Sunday:

           Once again Tim found himself in the middle of a fight with Cassie, Jaime, Virgil and Bart. This time however, the team had been called to assist the League with another bust this time being a large-scale reproduction of the Reach drink under a new name. Zatanna had been stationed with Tim’s squad for their particular section. Their job was to fight their way and disable of the brewery rooms.

           “Hey Zatanna!”

           “No Bart.”

           “I didn’t even say anything yet!”

           “I know what you want me to do and my answer is still no.”

           He stopped right in front of her, fixing her with his best puppy dog look. “Pleaseeee?”

           She just sighed and turned towards the rest of the team. “Everyone get up off the ground now!” Confused they did as they were told except for Bart who looked like a kid in a candy store being told he could get whatever he wanted. “eht roolf si aval!”

           Oh, that’s what he had wanted. The floor morphed from simple concrete to burning lava right before the team’s very eyes, taking out the robotic guards they had been pinned down by in mere moments. As soon as Zatanna called off the spell, Tim was quick to get his birdarangs ready before the next wave could barge in.

           “Hey Bart.” Tim handed the speedster the birdarangs primed for detonation upon impact. “These bitches empty.”

           Bart looked at him with big hopeful eyes as if he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing. With a nod from Tim, he gently took them from his hand, turning towards the vats. “YEET.” Bart put his whole body into the throw, each of the birdarangs hitting their target and detonating the vats in an impressive show.

           “You’re encouraging him now?” Cassie called as they watched the compound explode in the distance.

           “Hey at least this one was current.”

[wackygoofball]

Moodboard: Jaime x Brienne - Jurassic Park AU

“Did you forget? We are going on a class trip today, Brienne.”

“You did not mention that to me as far as I remember.”

“Well, we are going. And it’s a school trip, so I can’t really skip it, can I?”

“Certainly not,” Brienne agrees, getting up to grab the car keys. Life has vastly changed for the young woman ever since she became the legal guardian for Arya Stark, after her parents and her older brother alongside his wife died in a tragic accident. In fact, Brienne was quite set on pursuing her military career in the Marine Corps, but when news reached her that Cat had passed away and meant to entrust her youngest daughter into her care, Brienne knew that her plans were about to change.

Though Arya has since tested Brienne’s devotion. The girl does not enjoy the new living conditions. Brienne accounts that to her grief foremost, which is why she lets some of those things slide, regardless of the fact that she demands discipline otherwise, something inherent in a former Marine Corps Colonel. However, there are limits to that for Brienne, and she will do whatever it takes to ensure that Arya settles in, into her new life in King’s Landing, and as her foster child, to her own conditions.

And so, Brienne drops the dark-haired girl off to drive to work, unaware that Arya has her very own plans. The Stark girl has done her research on this ominous Valyrian Park set in Old Valyria, which is still under construction. A former employee uploaded a video to YouTrident that he could take before he was thrown out. While the video has long since been taken down, the girl remembers every image in detail as she keeps replaying her file copy over and over again, stopping at one part of the video every time, the one thing that matters: Nymeria.

While Arya is still unclear about how the direwolf ended up in Old Valyria, she is determined to get her back now that she know where to find her. After she lost her parents and big brother already, Arya is determined to have Nymeria back in her life. She once owned the direwolf, but then she had to let her walk free when it was demanded that the animal be put down because Nymeria had bitten this asshole Joffrey Baratheon after he had beaten around Arya’s friend Mycah. But of that one thing Arya was certain after she saw the video: Nymeria has truly thrived since they parted ways, and now stands as tall as about thrice the size she was by the time Arya set her free.

Thus, the class trip of her stupid archaeology class came up just at the right moment. While the others have their dear fun at the museum by the docks, Arya slips away and onto the ship she knows will depart to Valyria to bring supplies there. Hidden away in the storage rooms, and equipped with enough food and drink to make it back, the girl wants to make it all the way to Valyrian Park, determined to get into the habitat to find her direwolf.

She will not lose just one more family member, she will make sure of it.

Back in King’s Landing, Brienne receives the one phone call she was about as little prepared for as she was for when she was informed of Cat’s demise: Arya’s teacher, already lost in tears, tells her that her foster child disappeared without a trace, that police is looking for her, but that she hasn’t been found yet.

Brienne, in an effort to find out to where the girl may have headed, goes into Arya’s room and starts to go through her things. She eventually finds a downloaded video file on the girl’s computer, depicting what Brienne knows at once to be Arya’s most treasured pet she had to give away before she came to King’s Landing.

“Couldn’t you talk to me first before running off to find Nymeria?” Brienne sighs, but she takes some solace in having a first clue about to where the girl likely headed: Valyrian Park.

Whatever that place is.

“Time to call in some favors, then.”

Elsewhere in the capitol, Jaime Lannister receives a sudden call from his brother Tyrion whom he hasn’t seen in years after the dwarfish man relocated to Essos to work for Daenerys Targaryen.

“What would you want?” Jaime asks with a grin. “I thought you are far too busy with your secretive life elsewhere to bother about your old brother rotting away back home.”

“Remember when I said to you that the work I do here in Essos is so very top secret that I could never possibly tell you about it because it is so, so, so very highly classified as super top secret?”

“You may have bragged about it a good dozen times. Why?” Jaime answers, sensing the distress in his brother’s voice.

And that can never mean any good.

“Uhm, well, something in that very secret project may have happened that may or may not require your professional input.”

“Tyrion, just say what is going on.”

“We seemingly had an intruder in the habitat of the facility,” the younger man answers.

“Habitat? You will have to be a bit more specific here, brother,” Jaime huffs.

“I can’t pass on specific information over the phone,” Tyrion insists.

“If there is a security problem you have at your precious secret hideout, you should call the security personnel and let them handle the matter instead of hoping for me to hop on a plane and get there,” Jaime advises him, already growing annoyed.

“It’s not about someone who entered our facility… I mean, it is in a way, but it is about finding that person again. You have the capacities to track that intruder down, as the best pathfinder the Army has ever had in its services. If someone can track that intruder down, it is you. And we need your help presently before… something happens,” Tyrion tells him.

“You may also recall that I had to leave the Army after my hand injury. I am not really the most able man anymore, quite literally so,” Jaime argues, looking back down on his right hand in a splint that he knows he won’t ever take off for long because that is the one thing that lets him use that hand in some way, at least.

“Lives are on the line, Jaime.”

The older man closes his eyes. “… Then book me a flight as soon as you can. But I make no guarantees.”

“Thank you so, so, so much.”

“And I will demand all information once I get there,” Jaime adds.

“I promise.”

“I will see you there.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Tyrion hangs up after that, feeling slightly relieved that he is getting help from someone he knows is very capable of doing his job. The young man is just about to get started on putting together a report for his brother, when suddenly, his phone rings, displaying a number that is not one of the few the department handed out to the staff. Tyrion frowns. No one should have that number other than employers and employees of Valyrian Park. Hesitantly, he takes the call. “Hello?”

“The name is Brienne of Tarth, Colonel of the Westeros Marine Corps. Do I speak to… Mr. Tyrion Lannister?” a young woman’s voice rings out, leaving no doubt in Tyrion’s mind that this lady is not up for fun of any kind.

“Yes, but how do you have that number? No one is supposed to…,” Tyrion means to say, but the woman cuts him off sharply, “I have influential friends and called in some favors from the military who helped you set up your park across the Narrow Sea. But that is not the matter. The matter is that I think you and I share in the same problem, namely that you currently host a girl at Valyrian Park who should have no business there, even more so because you should have security in place to prevent a young girl from stealing on a ship to make it all the way to your facility across the Narrow Sea. Am I correct in that assessment, Mr. Lannister?”

“Well, that is a complicated matter…,” Tyrion wants to say, but Brienne is not having any of it, “This is a yes or no question, sir. Is she in Old Valyria?”

“… Yes.”

“Do you have her there right now so I can speak to her? Or do I have to call in more favors to file a lawsuit against you for keeping this information from law enforcement over in Westeros who are still looking for the girl?” Brienne threatens him, because she cannot believe that they would not call her at once if they have knowledge that Arya is there.

“No, no lawsuit necessary. We have her on camera… only, though,” Tyrion tells her.

“So she is not…,” Brienne mutters, and Tyrion confirms. “She stole into the habitat. We sent security out to get her, but we have lost her yesterday. Steps have since been taken to send a rescue team, Ms. Tarth. When we noticed her presence with our heat-sensitive cameras, one of our test subjects destroyed the camera, and by the time the system was back up, the intruder… the girl was gone.”

“Has the rescue team since left to search for her?” Brienne asks, trying to keep her calm, though her heart is almost beating out of her chest. She is supposed to protect Arya, and now this.

“No, we are still putting together a team as we speak,” Tyrion replies.

“Then that should give me enough time to get to Old Valyria to join said team,” Brienne says with determination.

Tyrion’s eyes widen at that. “What? No, Ms. Tarth. Rest assured that we will handle the matter.”

“I won’t rest assured until Arya is back with me. I will come to Valyrian Park, this way or the other. You can only decide on the mood I will be in by the time I will set foot on Old Valyria, Mr. Lannister. So you either get me on a plane or I will come to you, even more pissed than I am by virtue of you having kept it from federal government and thus from me for a whole day that a young girl wanders around your habitat, whatever it may hold as test subjects.”

Tyrion licks his lips. No, that woman is definitely not up for games of any kind. “Well… there may be a free spot on the private jet meant to go to Valyria tomorrow morning.”

“Then I will be on that private jet. I will expect a full report once I arrive.”

“Curiously, I heard that same sentence today already,” Tyrion laughs nervously.

“Good day, Mr. Lannister.”

“Good day, Ms. Tarth.”

With that, the young woman hangs up. Brienne takes a moment to gather herself before setting out to the task of packing her gear. Because of that she is certain, whatever is in this habitat means no good. She has seen Nymeria in that video, and if something else that size roams around the habitat, Brienne must get to Arya out of there as soon as possible.

Because there is nothing more hateful than failing to protect the ones you love.

On the next day, Brienne is one of the first to arrive at the port from which they are supposed to take the private jet to Old Valyria, but she is ever the more surprised when she hears that they have to wait for another passenger. Though thankfully, the man arrives before Brienne can knock the pilot over to take the jet herself, because she just has to get to Arya, no matter the costs.

“Good day… are you my flight attendant? How convenient of my brother to think about that,” the man chimes.

“I am going to Valyrian Park to join a rescue team. And what are you doing here?” she wants to know.

“Coincidentally, the same,” he says with a grin, holding out his hand to her. “Jaime Lannister.”

Brienne narrows her eyes at him, but then takes his hand. “Brienne of Tarth. So you must be Mr. Lannister’s brother, I’d assume.”

“He is the brains, I am the muscles, but yeah,” Jaime confirms.

“It makes no difference now anyway. We should get going.”

“Agreed.”

And so, the jet takes off to bring them to Old Valyria. After a quick exchange, Jaime has to realize that the stakes have just been raised for the mission, because it turns out that the intruder is not just some thug who stole shiny lab material, but apparently a young girl lost in the middle of a habitat that may very well inhabit very dangerous animals, something he can confirm himself after Brienne shows him the video she uploaded to her phone before departing.

Tyrion will suffer for keeping that from me. I will smack him all the way into the last century.

Once they arrive at the airport, they are greeted by Tyrion and Daenerys Targaryen, the founder of Valyrian Park.

“So you are responsible for endangering children?” Brienne spats once they get off the plane.

“I am preserving endangered species, Ms. Tarth,” Ms. Targaryen answers.

“Well, maybe a dark-haired girl is not special enough to you, but Arya is to me,” Brienne scoffs through narrowed eyes.

“Ladies, ladies, please,” Tyrion interrupts, holding up his hands. “We all came here for the same purpose, which is to find the girl, Arya, I mean. So we should not waste our time arguing, but setting out to work.”

“Agreed,” Brienne says, nodding her head.

They proceed into the headquarters, where they meet Ms. Targaryen’s right-hand man Jorah Mormont. Together, they go around a small tour within the facility, since Tyrion insists that one has to see it in order to understand it. As it turns out, Daenerys hired Tyrion to aid her in reviving literal dragons from three ancient eggs that have been in her family’s possession for many generations. She has long since dreamed about “hatching” them, but a special procedure was needed to awake them from the stone. Tyrion has since succeeded in extracting the DNA from the eggs to breed hybrid dragons by mixing that DNA with those of reptiles, in the hope to eventually breed back to the ancient dragons that died out and disappeared from the face of the earth. Ms. Targaryen bears the personal hope to not only breed back dragons in general, but also to revive the three dragons from the stone, once they have obtained enough data from their hybrids.

“If everything goes according to plan, dragons will become part of nature again, as they once were. In Valyrian Park, they can thrive because that is their natural habitat. And children and adults alike will get to see dragons fly again,” Daenerys explains.

“And get some big money into your pockets, I’d assume,” Jaime huffs.

“You need money to run a business, Mr. Lannister. But our purpose is greater than tourism. It is to bring to life a species that did not deserve to die out just because people deemed it too dangerous. Here, we can now create the conditions to let the dragons thrive, but within limits,” Ms. Targaryen insists. “They are not the monsters they were made out to be. They just need a place to stay, and that should be the place from where they came. That is here. This is their home.”

“And you seem to have done a great job setting those limits, considering that it took just one little girl to get through them all,” Jaime snorts.

“The park was not meant to be opened up to the public until much later. The girl intruded, and yes, that was a failure in our security system, but frankly, we didn’t think that a girl would go such lengths only to steal into the habitat,” Daenerys fires back.

“Do you sincerely want to blame Arya for that? You are breeding weapons of mass destruction in small here,” Jaime scoffs, for which Brienne is thankful, because he expresses her very sentiment. “I tend to think that evolution happens for a reason, Ms. Targaryen, and the dragons had their shot… and lost.”

“And that is a misconception, Mr. Lannister. Because dragons did not just disappear because they failed to adapt, they were forced into submission. Humans made them disappear from the face of earth by trying to control them. That was not natural selection, not evolution. It was human-made destruction. And I just mean to give back to the species what we as humanity have taken away from them,” Daenerys insists. “I am righting a wrong.”

“Which has me wondering whether you care more about some gigantic lizards or… humans,” Jaime huffs, turning to Tyrion with an all-saying look of disapproval.  

“One can care about both,” the young woman with silver-blonde hair insists.

“I am not too sure about that,” Jaime huffs.

“If you allowed,” Jorah interrupts. “I would suggest that I will go with you and the remains of the team into the habitat to find the girl and bring her to safety.”

“We will come with to the border.”

“But Ms. Targaryen,” Jorah mutters.

“I insist.”

“As you will. Now come. We have no time to lose.”

“This is the second smart thing I heard someone of you say today, which is not a good statistic, I may add,” Jaime scoffs as they head to the boats which are meant to take them to the habitat.

However, once they arrive there, it doesn’t take them long to notice that something is wrong. Some of the cages are broken through or otherwise damaged.

“How did they get through that?”

“Because dragons can breathe fire and fire melts steel,” Jaime comments as he inspects the fences. “Seems like your breeding back goes faster than you thought.”

They are interrupted by the growl of an animal about ten times their size, and hungry for a snack.

“So now, everyone gets back into the boat. I will go looking for the girl. And you two especially would do best staying around the bear guy here, because he knows his training and may be able to prevent your personal WMDs from barbecuing us all. Great theme park idea, I must say!”

“I am going with you,” Brienne insists.

“I can handle it alone.”

“I am not going back. Arya is out there. I vowed to find her. And so I will, whether you want to or not.”

“Fine then!”

Jaime realizes that Brienne won’t budge, so they quickly disappear into the woods before the dragon can get to them. Jorah takes Daenerys and Tyrion back out with the boat, in the hope that the hybrids they know are in the ocean were not yet alerted to their presence.

The two soldiers proceed into the deeper parts of the habitat in search for Arya. Thankfully, they are a surprisingly good team, since both have expertise in fighting and surviving in dangerous environments. Though certainly, neither Army nor Marines prepared them for fending off live dragons.

And so, the two race to find the girl amidst the habitat who is busy chasing her direwolf rather than getting back home, only to find out that the danger coming from the dragon hybrids may be far greater than firstly estimated, considering that they have since learned and adapted to their habitat with any intention to break free and seek out other places than Old Valyria, much in contrast to what Ms. Targaryen had originally in mind for them.

Jaime and Brienne thus find themselves in dire danger, which forces two soldiers struggling not just for survival but also their own personal demons far closer together than either one would ever dare to anticipate.

And it has yet to be determined who is going to win this fight of survival of the fittest… 

Additional Image Sources: Jurassic Park Trilogy (1993, 1997, 2001), Jurassic World (2015).

[ansheofthevalley]

I’m coming for the Salt Throne™, so watch out.

I’m sorry but I’m afraid I must interrupt my joyous broadcast of Stark goodness brought by the last teaser because I have encountered this on the sansa tag.

 At first I wasn’t going to engage, because I was really fucking happy about the teaser. But then I thought, you know what, fuck it, some people need to know some facts and I’m gonna give it to them. Also, I stayed up till 4 am writing this shit but tumblr wouldn’t let me queue it, so now I’m writing it all over again. Second also, this person has been commenting on my posts that I clearly tagged “Sansa Stark” and “anti targ restoration”, so they’re stalking the tags, and since they’re doing that, there’s a high chance they’ll read this.

So let’s start, shall we?

First things first

Imagine being this pressed. At this point, you’re just grasping at straws, my friend.

I’m going to go point by point, since this person took the time to do the same about an anti sansa stark post but posted it on the sansa stark stark nonetheless

Point number 1: comparison with Jaime

I’ll give you that this parallel works, given that both characters start the series at a very good point: Jaime is a Kingsguard and Sansa has just gotten betrothed to the Crown Prince. But let’s examine their journey since then. Jaime ends up season one as a war prisoner of Robb Stark, the Young Wolf and King in the North after Robb won in battle, while Sansa ends up being a political hostage in King’s Landing after watching her father die. It doesn’t get any better for any of them, Jaime, in a secret exchange with Cat, promises to deliver Sansa and Arya, so then it begins his adventures with Brienne in the Riverlands, while Sansa is humiliated and assaulted in front of court. Then, while he got out of the Starks cells and thinking he could make his way to King’s Landing all on his own, Jaime loses his right hand and that’s a low point for him, actually, that’s his lowest point. Meanwhile, Sansa finds confort in the arrival of the Tyrells and her betrothal to Joffrey is put aside in favor of Margeary and there are even hints of a new betrothal between her and Loras, it’s starting to look good for Sansa, until Tywin puts a halt to those plans and brokers the marriage between Tyrion and Sansa: now she’s married to the enemy, the enemy that would ultimately kill his brother and mother. If it were possible, it gets worse for both of them: just as he arrives to King’s Landing, Jaime bears witness to the murder of his son on his wedding day, something Cersei was quick to blame Sansa for. So now, Sansa is a presumed kingslayer and a fugitive. Jaime, now changed by his experiences, tasks Brienne with finding both Stark girls, to keep his promise to Catelyn Stark. Season one Jaime wouldn’t have done that, just saying. Sansa escapes to the Vale under the “protection” of Littlefinger. There she realizes the want for home, for Winterfell, the place she wanted to leave as a teenager. Now she realizes the value of home. Both have to fulfull the role of head of the family: Jaime when Tywin is murdered by Tyrion and Sansa after Robb’s death. They are both tasked with the reconstruction of their houses: Jaime in a military way, Sansa in a political way. As Tommen ascends to the Throne, Jaime has to demonstrate that the Lannisters still are a force to be reckon with, even without Tywin. Sansa comes back to Winterfell to marry Ramsay, to reconnect with the North and its people and to find a way to avenge her family. By the end of season six, they both fully embraced their roots: Jaime is a Lannister and Sansa is a Stark. And we see that in season seven. Jaime is loyal to his House and Cersei till the end of the season and Sansa will defend the best interests of her people. It took them a lot to get where they are now, but that’s what happens with characters like them. They are perceived as perfect by everyone around them, but they have their insecurities and they go through a number of trials and tribulations before they evolve and become better than they were.

Point number two: Cersei vs. Sansa. Two (very) different people

Cersei is very much her father’s daughter, capable of lying and manipulation. This is pointed out throughout the seasons, by various characters, and is the biggest compliment you could pay Cersei. She always believed to be the best bet to take House Lannister to new heights, but always overlooked by her father, in favor of her brothers.

 Now, the scroll Sansa was forced to write. I’m going to repeat that. Sansa was forced to write that scroll to his brother. She was forced to do it by Cersei because she truly believed it would save her father’s life. You also wildly misinterpreted Maester Luwin’s response (what a shocker):

 Robb: Treason? Sansa wrote this?  Maester Luwin: It is your sister’s hand, but the Queen’s words

 It’s after this exchange that Robb decides to call his banners and declares himself to be in open rebellion to the Crown, until they release his father and sisters.

 But let’s go back to Luwin’s line for a bit. You’d know, especially if you read A Game of Thrones, that Sansa doubted in this moment. She had doubts about writing that letter. But she did it anyway. Why? Because she thought Cersei was good and someone worthy of trust. She really thought she was doing the best she could in saving her father’s life. Like worst case scenario, he’d be sent to the Wall, but he’d be alive. Also, let’s not forget she was thirteen years old.

Point number three: Sansa and her love of stories and the disregard for femininity 

Sansa is an idealist. She loves tales of knightly valor and romance, the story of Jonquil and Florian the Fool being her favorite. She appreciates and favors all that is femenine: she sings, she draws, she embroiders, she plays intruments. She’s a lady through and through. And there’s nothing wrong with that. That’s the way she was brought up. Being the Warden of the North’s eldest daughter, both of her parents knew she would have to marry someone important, not some minor lord. And with those prospects, she would be educated to be a proper lady.

I won’t get into Arya’s line since this post is getting long enough, but it shows how the show itself views women with femenine traits as inferior to women with more masculine traits. After all, we all know the GA, at that point prefered the likes of Arya and D@ny to the likes of Sansa and Catelyn.

When Sansa says she’s a stupid girl with stupid dreams who never learns, she’s chastising herself. She came to the capital a girl full of dreams and hopes, only to find people that would lie, use and abuse her, while she had to remain the perfect little lady if she didn’t want another beating. She’s chastising herself for having dreams, something every thirteen-year-old should have, but in her case, she’s been stripped from them. And she blames herself for that, when in reality, it isn’t her fault. It’s the fault of the adults that use her as a pawn to their games as she were a thing. 

So no, Sansa isn’t stupid and she certainly isn’t like most girls. She learned to navigate the turbid waters of court in order to stay alive. She never gave up hope or sacrificed her kindness.

1 extra point for trying, tho

Point number four: The moon door and Lysa Arryn

Tyrion’s experience with the Moon Door was under a sham trial for the attempted hit on Bran, which means it was public. We know from season seven that it was Littlefinger who orchestrated the assesination, in hopes to frame the Lannisters and thus creating more friction between the two houses and drive away any suspicion anyone could have that Lysa and Baelish killed Jon Arryn.

Sansa’s experience with the Moon Door was private, it was just her Lysa, and then Littlefinger. Lysa was growing paranoid of Sansa, she accused her of sleeping with Littlefinger (in which she wasn’t entirely wrong: Littlefinger was grooming Sansa and kissing her without her consent). Let’s not forget that Lysa has been in love with him since he was fostered at Riverrun. At this point, Littlefinger had married Lysa; she thought it was out of love, but he did it to secure power in the Vale. Ultimately Littlefinger interferes, getting Lysa away from Sansa, and then he threw his wife through the Moon Door proclaiming he only loved one: her sister.

So again, two very different situations. But I’ll give you points for trying hard.

Point number five: Cersei vs. Sansa part deux. Sansa and Cersei are not parallels, they are foils

It doesn’t take a genius to understand that those two lines are there to illustrate how different they are. Sansa can’t sleep, worried and tormented by the loved ones she cannot safe. There’s not a single thing in her manner or face that shows any trace of vengance, just sadness and grief. The only time we get to see Sansa get revenge is when she killed Ramsay. That was personal. She endured months and months of abuse at the hands of that monster. He killed her little brother. His family took part in the Red Wedding, killing many on the Stark men and bannermen, his brother, his sister-in-law and their unborn child and her mother. He was hers to kill. It was in name of all of those he hurt and killed. Cersei, on the other hand, is completely consumed by vengance. Her line demonstrates that she won’t rest until she had killed everyone that wronged her and her family. She’s been asking for Sansa ever since she fled King’s Landing, she tried to hunt down her own brother (not that she had much love for him, but still), she blew up a whole part of the city just to get rid of her political enemies. She drank wine and smirked while that happened. She killed a young woman in front of her mother, and had her watch as her daughter died. She had the septa from the walk of shame tortured and abused by the Mountain repeatedly. There’s a level of darkness in her actions, a level of monstrosity that rival that of her son’s. 

Again, extra points for trying reaaally hard

Point number six: Cersei vs. Sansa part tres (since you insist on drawing parallels between the two when actually they’re foils, but whatever). The matches that never came to happen: Cersei & Rhaegar / Sansa & Joffrey

When Tywin was Aerys’ Hand, he promised Cersei that one day, she would marry Rhaegar and be Queen. We know from the flashback scene with young Cersei and Maggy the Frog, that she wanted to be Queen. She wanted the power the crown brought, something she undoubtedly learned from her father. Unlike Cersei, Sansa wanted to be Queen, yes, but it was all a childhood dream. It was her love for songs and stories that led her to believe that fair Queens ruled the Kingdoms and were loved by the people. She never wanted power, she never even grasped at the real implications of wearing a crown after her father died. She learnt the hard way that Queens weren’t fair and loved, that they could be fearsome and cunning.  There’s actually someone more fitting for the parallel you’re trying to draw between Cersei and Sansa:

Both Cersei and Margaery want to be Queen for the power the Crown brings: it’s a way to give power to their House, it’s a way they can influence and shape the country in the way they want (though Margaery was more graceful and a better Queen that Cersei could ever be).

Since this got a little long, I’ll leave you with this book quote that finishes to paint Cersei and Sansa as foils:

Cersei:  “The only way to keep your people loyal is to make certain they fear you more than they do the enemy.” Sansa:  “I will remember, Your Grace," said Sansa, though she had always heard that love was a surer route to the people's loyalty than fear. If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me.”

And yes, Sansa is a Direwolf that grew up between Lions. But that doesn’t mean she grew up to become one. She grew up and survived them. I’ll leave another quote from ACOK, after Sansa is humiliated at the hands of Joffrey and his Kingsguards:

Sansa: “I am loyal to my beloved Joffrey.” Tyrion: “No doubt. As loyal as a deer surrounded by wolves.” Sansa: “Lions, she whispered without thinking.”