#jon x walder

[dalekofchaos]

How Robb could've won the North's independence

Realistically, it would be impossible for Robb to win the War of the Five Kings unless he teamed up with Stannis or somehow got married to Margaery Tyrell(Robb goes to treat with Renly instead of Cat, Renly dies and Robb convinces the Tyrells to join forces, only condition:marry Margaery). But it would've been possible to win The North's Independence.

Before we get into the how he could win, let's look into how and why Robb lost.

Sending Theon to Pyke. The beginning of the end. On one level Robb was right to trust Theon, because we see from Theon's POV chapters that he intended to stay true to Robb's cause…. up until his father rejected him and sent him to reave the West coast and Moat Callin with the other Ironborn. It's only after Theon has been rejected by his father and forced to serve on a ship with another captain (putting the heir to the seastone chair lower in rank than a battle commander) that Theon cracks and decides to do something big to prove he is a worthy heir to Balon Greyjoy. But Cat is also right: because she expected that something could go wrong. Now, she expected that Theon would betray Robb from the off, because she has a nasty suspicious streak and really assumes the worst about everybody - think of all the times she bleats that Jon can't stay at Winterfell as he'll usurp Robb's rights, and ask yourself: has there been any indication that Jon would ever do this? No. Jon could have worked his way up to captain of the Winterfell guard as a Stark bastard, and Robb would have been better protected by his much loved brother than anyone else. But because Cat is so deeply entrenched in her belief that bastards are grasping stealers of birthright, she cannot allow that possibility to even be discussed. Same thing happens with Theon. Cat knows more about Ironborn culture than Robb, and she appreciates that Theon has been a Stark prisoner for years whereas Robb unfortunately thinks of Theon as another adopted brother. But she fails to adequately explain to Robb that her concerns about Theon are not about Theon's character per se, but about Ironborn culture. She anticipates that something could go wrong - she doesn't see exactly what happens to turn Theon against the Starks, but she had enough knowledge of the Ironborn to make a case to Theon and Robb that Balon Greyjoy was a cantankerous old prick who would not be willing to provide a naval fleet to a king he has no interest in pledging his loyalty to in any case.

Not Informing His Uncle of His Plans: Edmure threw back the Lannister forces at the Battle of the Fords. Because of this, Robb is unable to encircle Tywin's host, as he had hoped to surround and capture them further within the Riverlands. I'm not so sure that Robb actually had that "plan" in Riverrun. I think he hammered out the details of the trap somewhere in the West, and didn't think Edmure would interpret differently. As to the trap itself: oh no, Tywin's cause would have been lost for sure. If he delayed for even a few hours, he'd be late to the rescue of King's Landing - Lannister Plot ArmorTM struck again. And the thing is, if he crossed the Trident, he'd be caught between Robb, Edmure and Roose - you can forget about the Red Wedding then: Roose and Walder are dipshits for sure, but they're above all opportunistic dipshits. With Tywin caught between 3 different forces, at least one of which - Robb - is way, way better at guerilla hill-war that Tywin (who never seems to win anything unless he outnumbers his enemy at least 2:1), that's it for the Lannister army. Meanwhile, Stannis takes KL, but keeps pissing off everyone with his charming personality, so his reinforcements are dubious. But Stannis is a man of honor and of his word and he would've given the Starks Sansa. Dorne would be pleased that Tywin and the Mountain dies and extends an alliance with The North. The Tyrells just fuck off in Highgarden. The Ironborn are dealt with and would be at death's door until Euron returns. Stannis has Varys and Littlefinger executed and Lysa just sulks with Sweetrobin in The Eyrie. The Starks regain The North and the Starks reunite and most importantly Robb is the one who goes to the Wall and helps prepare the North for The Others.

Beheading Rickard Karstark: Karstark, feeling the need for vengeance due to his son's deaths, slaughters prisoners of war Tion Frey and Willem Lannister. Due to this act, Robb sentences Karstark to death and beheads him personally. This leads to the Karstark' abandoning ship and heading home. Rickard and the Karstarks had been some of, if not, his most loyal vassals. When Ned was imprisoned and Robb called his banners Rickard answered bringing as many men as he could unlike many other Northern Lords who held back men in reserve for their own interests. Or the Umbers who threatened to go home unless he got his way and had to be threatened to stay and help Robb free his father. When Winterfell was captured and Bran and Rickon's lives endangered the Karstarks were one of the few Northern Houses to send men despite the large distance to Winterfell. Despite all this, despite the fact that two of Rickards sons were killed as they were protecting Robb from Jaime Lannister, or his heir was captured being sent into a battle that Robb knew they were going to lose Robb still gave Rickard Karstark the harshest punishment he could instead of being lenient like his own advisers suggested and keeping him prisoner or sending him to the Wall. Now this move was especially stupid as the remnants of the 2,000 Karstark foot was with Roose. Robb was actually worried about them turning on Bolton, which was a real possibility, but instead they worked with Roose to take down Robb at the Red Wedding. Would Roose have had the confidence to act without those Karstark numbers? Being lenient with Rickard might have still lost those Karstark men but they would never have helped in the Red Wedding. Karstark sacrificed a lot and while killing those two Lannisters was bad, no one would have cared if it had been on the battlefield. Their age has little to do with it, both sides would have had casualties of similar ages in the battles.

Marrying Jeyne Westerling: Robb was betrothed to a daughter of Walder Frey; however, this act broke that vow, thus leading to the Frey's feeling betrayed and withdrawing home. This act of defiance towards the Frey's is later paid in kind via the Red Wedding.

With that out of the way, here is how Robb could've won The North's Independence.

If we’re looking at deposing Joffrey and extinguishing the Royal Branch of House Baratheon-Lannister, then no. Too many riches, lords, and men support them for the Stark/Tully coalition to mount an offensive. They’d be enveloped, surrounded and destroyed.

If we’re looking at the independence of the North, then its possible, but Robb is going to have to do some unpleasant/unhonorable things, because here’s the ultimate goal:

Getting behind Moat Calin and fortifying for the Winter.

If Robb can do that, then he’s pretty much untouchable.

So, how do we get there?

First things first, don’t tie the knot with Talisa/Westerling and marry Roslin Frey like he agreed to. That stupid marriage should never have happened in the first place.

Eddard Stark survived the stain of a “bastard.” Robb can too, which may not even be a problem since Westerling never became pregnant (probably due to her mother). Robb marrying for love was so out of character that we’re just setting aside the Talisa incident.

Next, its time to get the Northern Alliance some breathing room for their strategic retreat.

Robb needs to recognize that Edmere is an idiot and needs his uncle Blackfish to watch over his shoulder the whole time. If he does so, then Robb’s cannon plan in season 3 works. The Mountain and his Ravagers are drawn out of Harrenhal, surrounded and annihilated.

That not only deals a blow to Lannister prestige, but also wins them brownie points with the Brotherhood Without Banners. Enough so that maybe they let Robb know that they have his sister.

That with a nice sack of cash will firmly place the BWB on the Stark side, so long as Robb can keep his Northmen in line. They are going to be the Stark’s eyes and ears as well as turn the Riverlands into the Spanish Ulcer for the Lannisters.

Which brings us to Karstark.

At the beginning of season three, the Kingslayer is gone, so Karstark goes berserk as a result. Instead of beheading the man, Robb should parlay with him instead. Use his anger to help with the retreat, while at the same time, put him in overwhelming situations where a stray arrow or well-timed blade may get through his guard.

In other words, suicide by Lannister.

Karstark won’t notice, he’s too bloodmad, his focus will solely be on killing Lannisters. The problem will eventually resolve itself. And if not, mayhaps the BwB can help, for another sack of cash of course.

So now Robb has his space.

The BwB and Karstark are disrupting the Lannister/Tyrell logistics, inflicting lop-siding losses on demoralized and green Lannister/Tyrell levies (most of Lord Tywin’s professional force was either wiped out at the Whispering Woods or at Blackwater and the Tryrell “impressive” force of 80,000 are farmhands who’ve never seen a blade in their life).

Now comes the hard part, withdrawing the Riverlords and what’s left of their men behind the Moat.

After two years of war, the Riverlords have maybe 15–20 thousand men left. Add on to Robb’s own 15,000 Northmen, and Robb can command an impressive 30,000 battle hardened soldiers.

And every one of those men are needed in the North:

To remove the Ironborn.

To fortify the Moat, the White Knife, and the Stoney Shore.

To deal with the Wildlings, Stannis, and ultimately, the White Walkers.

But the Riverlords are stubborn. They don’t want to abandon their homes to the Lannisters. Who would? Moreover, to abandon their homes to fight a supposedly Northern problem? That’s adding insult to injury.

Hence why marrying Roslin is so important. It means that Robb can’t just pack up and go home. He is now permanently tied to the survival of the Riverlands.

The marriage carries a promise: that Robb will return. Just as Doug MacArthur returned to the Philippines.

Combine that with parting with 5000 men to garrison the strategic and symbolic castles throughout the Riverlands (Riverrun, Oldstones, The Crossroads, the Twins, and Seagard), Robb and the Tullys command the displayed area:

With all three forks of the Trident under the Stark Banner, the Starks can send constant supplies, provisions, and ferry BwB raiding parties. The long-ships they need to navigate the forks can easily be supplied by the ironwood of House Forrestor and designed by captured Ironborn in exchange for clemency.

In canon, The Blackfish claimed that Riverrun could hold out for two years, and that was with an unprepared Riverrun. With a proper strategic retreat, a proper supply route along the three forks, that time frame for Riverrun and all other hard nuts in this system could be raised to near indefinite, or at least until Winter hits.

Until Gunpowder came around, it was almost nearly impossible to take castles. The loss of life in an assault was just too much for farmhand levies. The only way to break a castle is through a siege, and well supplied Trident prevents such castles from starving out.

So, by leaving behind say 5000 men, using the Lannister plunder Robb acquired from his expedition west for payment and loyalty, maximizing the continued harassment and disruption by the BwB, and taking advantage of impetuous, but slow thinking lords looking for glory and blood, the Riverlands could hold out until at least Winter, at which points all sides would have to retire.

Its a stalling game, basically.

Now, with that secured, Robb will then take the remaining 10–15 thousand Rivermen with him North to deal with the Ironborn. Which is a piece of cake, since most already left for the Kingsmoot, and while being incredibly skilled sailors and marines, fighting on the Green Land makes them worthless.

Winterfell is secured (unfortunately still razed), the North is liberated, and the Southern choke points are fortified with the Rivermen:

The warmer climate is better suited for them.

It keeps them close to the Riverlands just in case the Lannisters/Tyrells attempt to make an incursion.

That will then allow Robb to use his reinforced 20,000 battle-harden Northern Banner Army to force Mance Rayder into submission.

Unlike Jon Snow, Robb will clearly explain to everyone that a potentially treacherous Wilding is infinitely superior to a definite enemy wight among the White Walker force.

As for the Wildlings, Robb uses Jon Snow and Mance Rayder to keep them in line as they in turn man the Wall and reap up the final harvest before Winter sets in.

As for Stannis, without a proper logistics network (The Nights Watch and the North will not help him), his mercenary army either dies or defects to Robb.

Stannis is imprisoned, Melisandre either stays to help Robb and Jon or runs away.

While the North digs in for the fight at the Wall, the events of the South happen as they do in cannon:

Joffrey is murdered.

Tyrion is blamed and flees.

Sansa disappears to the Vale.

Tywin is killed by his own son.

Cersei single handily destroys the Lannister/Tyrell Alliance.

The Faith Militant rises and imprisons everybody.

Euron wins the Salt Throne and begins ravaging the Reach.

FAegon invades and secures the Stormlands.

With the South in such chaos, the incursions into the Trident diminish, as Lannister, Tryrell, Dorne, Ironborn, and FAegon are too busy fighting each other.

The line of supply along the Trident is strengthened by the spoils of war that came with Stannis, and Stannis’ mercenaries are sent South to warmer climates and better opportunities for plunder.

Sansa, who by now has become a political player in her own right, tricks Sweet Robin into declaring for Robb, and rallies the Knights of the Vale to the Stark Banner.

Who knows, maybe even taking out Littlefinger in the process.

So now Robb’s dominion looks like this:

His army around Moat Calin and South now compose of:The ~5000 Garrison of Rivermen. The 10–15,000 Rivermen ready to march. The ~1000 Partisans of the Brotherhood. The fresh 40,000 Knights of the Vale. The 6000 mercenaries that abandoned Stannis.

Meanwhile up North, Robb with his 20,000, the 50,000 Wildlings, and remnants of the Night’s Watch are ready to fight a grueling war of attrition against the Walkers at the Wall.

And if Tycho Nestoris is aware of the White Walker threat, then Robb’s got Bravoos’ armory and the Iron Bank on his side as well.

Robb doesn’t need to beat the South into submission. Not anymore. Arya is safe in Winterfell. Rickon is safe at Skagos. Bran is missing, but NOT in the South, and Sansa now commands the Vale with Yohn Royce.

All he has to do is hold out, using Darry, Riverrun, and the Oldstones as choke points.

The Royal Navy was destroyed at Blackwater. The Iron Fleet and Redwyne Navy annihilated each other when Euron went South, so the choke points can’t be bypassed.

Robb has won defacto independence.

Assuming they survive the Long Night and the rest of Winter, then Robb can coalesce his forces and reclaim the God’s Eye Basin, thus maintaining his pledge and duty to the Riverlords and increasing his prestige.

And the South will still be too divided to mount a proper counter offensive.

A treaty is eventually signed with whoever is left and Robb wins his independence, and with the wealth of a restored Riverlands, and untouched Vale and revitalized North, becomes the most powerful man in Westeros.

And if Robb listens to Roose Bolton more, explains himself to him, and rewards him for his victories, it may be enough to dissuade him from betraying him. After all, Roose is a pragmatic man, and will always back the winning side.

Robb was no longer on the winning side when he married Jeyne Westerling, executed Karstark, and lost Winterfell, the seat of his authority. If he plays his cards right, and doesn’t restrict himself with his honor, he could avoid the first two and quickly rectify the third, thus snagging victory from defeat.

The South was unified with the marriage of Margarey/Joffrey and the iron hand of Lord Tywin. Kill the union and the Hand, and you kill the alliance. And then, the war looks a whole lot less hopeless for the Starks.

And since Robb is now the most powerful man in Westeros AND has married Roslin Frey, the Late Walder Frey may be hesitant with his blade.

Justice has been restored. The North, the Vale and the Riverlands stand united. The Red Wedding never happens. The Starks are reunited and they fight off the Long Night and bring peace to the realm.

THE KING IN THE NORTH!

[amber-laughs]

“They’re dogs and he’s a wolf,” said Jon. “They know he’s not their kind.”

Lord Ramsay laughed. "You're not a man, Reek. You're just my creature. You'll have your wine, though. Walder, see to it. And fear not, I won't return you to the dungeons, you have my word as a Bolton. We'll make a dog of you instead. Meat every day, and I'll even leave you teeth enough to eat it. A Dance with Dragons - Reek II

"I see what you are, Snow. Half a wolf and half a wildling, baseborn get of a traitor and a whore. You would deliver a highborn maid to the bed of some stinking savage. Did you sample her yourself first? A Dance with Dragons - Jon X

When Little Walder pulled him up and Big Walder waved the torch at him to herd him from the cell, he went along as docile as a dog. If he'd had a tail, he would have tucked it down between his legs. A Dance with Dragons - Reek I

"Aye. All that, and more. You are a warg too, they say, a skinchanger who walks at night as a wolf." King Stannis had a hard smile. "How much of it is true?" A Storm of Swords - Jon XI

That night, besides the collar, there was a ragged blanket too, and half a chicken. Reek had to fight the dogs for the meat, but it was the best meal he'd had since Winterfell. A Dance with Dragons - Reek II

 The smells are stronger in my wolf dreams, he reflected, and food tastes richer too. Ghost is more alive than I am. He left the empty cup upon the forge. A Dance with Dragons - Jon II

The other man had been a good rider, but Reek was uneasy on horseback. It had been so long. He was no rider. He was not even a man. He was Lord Ramsay's creature, lower than a dog, a worm in human skin. A Dance with Dragons - Reek II

“The Weeper’s red rheumy eyes gave Jon another look. “Aye? Well, he has a wolfish cast to him, now as I look close.” A Storm of Swords - Jon I

"Reek," he said. "Your Reek." "Do this little thing for me, and you can be my dog and eat meat every day," Lord Ramsay promised.  A Dance with Dragons - Reek II

The taste of hot blood filled Jon's mouth, and he knew that Ghost had killed that night. No, he thought. I am a man, not a wolf. He rubbed his mouth with the back of a gloved hand and spat. A Dance with Dragons - Jon II

Damon Dance-for-Me sat greasing up his whip. "Reek," he called. He tapped the whip against his calf as a man might do to summon his dog. "You are starting to stink again, Reek." A Dance with Dragons - A Ghost in Winterfell

"The beast," he gasped. "Look! The beast that tore the life from Halfhand. A warg walks among us, brothers. A WARG! This . . . this creature is not fit to lead us! This beastling is not fit to live!" A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

"You would have done better to slit his throat," said the lord in mail. "A dog who turns against his master is fit for naught but skinning." "Oh, he's been skinned, here and there," said Ramsay. A Dance with Dragons - Reek I

[axelsagewrites]

Hi. Can I request Edmure x female Snow (Jon’s sister) where Edmure, reader, Jon etc learn her heritage and after dany’s mad queen thing is reader selected to be queen and Edmure her consort. Maybe smut too, either way more Edmure.

Edmure Tully*My Queen, My Love

Pairing: snow!f!reader x husband!edmure

A/N: I did change your request slightly since I just couldn’t think of how to write danny as the mad queen or how to get the plot going so now its edmures reaction to her heritage and danny naming her as her heir and them celebrating with some soft smut at the end so I hope you still like it!

Word count: 2705

Warnings: talks of death/red wedding, praise, ‘my queen’ honorific, f!receiving oral, fingering, slight teasing, thighs, soft smut 18+

Past

When Jon left for the wall, you thought you’d never see him again. When your sisters got taken as hostages in the red keep you thought they were as good as dead. When Winterfell was taken you thought your youngest brothers were gone for good. Everyone around you began to drop like flies and if not for Edmure you would have thrown yourself from Riverrun’s walls when you got the news of Robbs brutal murder and at a wedding no less.

Your stomach churned at the memory, and you wondered what your own fate would have been if Robb had not sent you and Edmure back to Riverrun to defend it from Lannister attacks. Sometimes you wondered if he knew, if somehow Robb felt the unease in the air of the twins. When you hugged Robb goodbye for the last time you clung on, but you did not know why you did or why your direwolf star was so reluctant to leave Greywind’s side. She, like ghost, was a pale white but unlike his red eyes hers were the palest of purples, so pale you wondered if they were clear in certain lights.

You were only halfway to Riverrun when you heard the news. You tried to back, hell bent of trying to avenge Robb with a sword, a wolf, and only three men but Edmure had to hold you back. He screamed at you in the forest ‘do you want to die? What of your sisters who will they have to save them when your dead at Walder Frey’s feet? Dying won’t bring him back.'

'My father is dead. My brothers are dead. The girls are as good as dead and only the gods know where Jon is, you screamed it back, face wet with tears and your voice tearing the air. I have no one.'

'You have me and you have star and the gods be good your sisters in time, but you won’t have anything if you run without thinking.'

His words swam about your heads for the weeks you spent traveling with Edmure and the two others Robb had sent with you. Your gold ran out quickly and there were no friends for you to find. That was until you came across the man with half his face scorched off. You’d found him in a heap at the bottom of a mountain and were shocked when you noticed his shallow breaths.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to stop your travels for a week to nurse him back to health, but you did and when he was not insulting you or trying to start fights his roughness started to slip. 'Did you see a girl dressed as a boy? Brown hair, face like a pinched arse, a tiny needle of a sword. Goes by Arry.' Arya. Your sister was alive. You had hope again.

Eventually the gods turned your fate. You may have lost the two guards Robb had sent with you in skirmishes, but you were left with Sandor and Edmure and eventually the brotherhood found you. With them came travels and with travels came Jon. Finally you had Jon back. Then Sansa too and with the hope Arya was out there you dared continue.

Meanwhile you had Edmure beside you the entire time. He backed all your decisions publicly and debated you in private but never to berate. He helped you heal the wounds you couldn’t reach and didn’t eat till he made sure you had your share. He was the rock securing your tie to reality.

You remember his reaction to meeting Daenerys Targaryen, first of her name. Its not her dragons we should fear. A woman who brings the Dothraki across the sea on the hope of a promise not given to her holds power. Her words hold power.

While Sansa was sceptical of her you felt yourself drawn to her. As time went on you began to view her as more of a friend than a foreign queen. You found yourself added to her small council. Despite Tyrion being her hand, it was you she turned to in her dilemma.

Then one day Jon barged into one of your chambers, insisting it could not wait a day longer. He forced Edmure to leave the chambers despite you insisting that the man who had become your husband could hear anything he had to say. 'Ned Stark was not our father sweet sister, but he was not a stranger either.' You felt the colour drain from your face as he spoke. 'Bran, he saw it, Lyanna Stark on her birthing bed. Twins in her arms. We had a mother sweet sister and a father too. Rhaegar Targaryen.'

Present

After he broke the news, you demanded he leave, not wanting him to speak another word till you could bare to tell Daenerys yourself. Then Edmure returned. As you told him everything Jon had revealed you felt your world spinning as Edmure sat silently taking it all in.

The feel of Edmures hands grabbing yours slowed your rant, your breathing steadying. “Breathe my love. It is going to be okay,”

“But what if its not?” You asked, a break in your voice.

You looked to the man that had kept you afloat during this war with wide eyes brimmed with tears. His hand gently moved to hold your face, “You are still you, my love. This does not need to change your world unless you choose it too. Your brother will back you; he always has. I am here for you love. We are safe, we will survive this,”

“What if she thinks us a threat?” You said, voice barely above a whisper, “Rober Baratheon would’ve murdered them in their cribs if he had got there in time to swing his hammer. What will she do to me?”

“She has shown you no signs of tyranny, no signs of madness. If you lie to her, scheme against her, she will know but even if ned Stark was not your father you still have his honour,” Edmure said, leaning to kiss your forward softly, “and you have me. I may not breath fire, but I would fight any dragon for you,”

You watched as Daenerys face turned as Jon told her the truth with you by his side. “If it were true, you would be the last living male Targaryen. Are you here to threaten my claim?” She asked, her face twisting into betrayal.

“No,” you said, finally speaking up in the silence, “Jon has no interest in the iron throne, do you brother?” You said, scared when he paused for a moment before agreeing with you.

Daenerys turned away, pacing to the fire in silence, “Leave us,” she said, her head raising to face Jon, “and do not speak a word of this to anyone. Swear it,”

“I swear it your grace,” Jon said, nodding his head solemnly before leaving.

As the door shut Daenerys finally turned to look at you, “I assume Edmure knows,” she said dryly, “Who else?”

“No one your grace,” you said, crossing the room to try come to her side but she backed away, “No one needs know if you don’t want them too. But you cannot deny you need a family,”

“I have my dragons,” she said, almost spitting the words before looking into the flames, “A woman told me once they would be my only children,” she said with a softer tone.

"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east," you whispered back, having heard her tales of her first marriage many nights.

“When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves,” she said, her eyes not leaving the flickering flames, “I believe I will see my child when I die. The son a witch stole from me. The family I was told to dream about having as a child, gone. What is a queen with no heirs?” She said, finally looking from the flames. “If I was to name Jon my heir people would cross their fingers for the day I died. Your land has never cared much for their queens,”

You paused for a moment, thinking back to the talks you had with Edmure the night before. “There is another way your grace,” you said, moving over to sit in the armchair by the fire, Daenerys moving to the other, “The northerns have never liked to bend their knee to the south but what if you didn’t make them? Allow Jon to be king of the north, recognise Robbs kingship and his will naming Jon as his heir. No southern lord is going to fight for a bastard to sit the iron throne,”

Daenerys sat back in her chair, thinking over your words carefully, “And what of you? You would stay in the north to take the throne after him?”

You shook your head lightly, “No your grace. He may be my brother, but you are my queen. I will follow you south, fight your battles and die for you, if need be, serve however required,”

Daenerys paused, chuckling slightly under her breath, “Even as my heir?” She said, her eyes hard to read.

“Unless you have children,” you said but Daenerys just laughed and stood again.

“No. My dragons are my children. One of them is already dead. My womb has been cursed and the child bed is more dangerous than any battle ahead. Now I will not have children. But I will have an heir. An heir who will act as a delegate to the newly independent north. You,” she said, finally turning back to see you, “You shall be my heir and you shall rule when I am gone. Not your husband, not Jon. You,”

The feast announcing Daenerys decision was one of the last moments of joy for many before the long night. You sat at the head table, Daenerys on one side and Edmure on the other. He held your hand under the table, his thumb stroking over your hand. Jon sat on the other side of Daenerys; a shoddy silver crown placed on his head unlike the one Daenerys wore made of gold.

After the festivities you walked back to your chamber, slightly lightheaded from the wine but with Edmures arm wrapped around yours to steady yourself. “One day you will be a queen,” he hummed, smiling down at you, “The title suits me,”

“Hopefully not for a long time,” you said, kissing his cheek as you stumbled to your chambers, “Excited about your future promotion?” You joked with a drunken grin.

He shook his head with a chuckle, “the title is yours not mine. I will not rule for you love for you will be my queen. Though I hope you will at least allow me on your council when the time comes,” he said as you turned into the corridor your chamber lay in.

“Of course,” you said, hugging his arm tighter, “You have always been my hand. Without you I am nothing,”

“No, my love,” he said as he unlatched the chamber door, “You are everything and more,” he said, kissing your lips softly in the chamber doorway. “Give me a moment to light the fire,”

As Edmure stoked the flames you began to slip out of your northern clothes, leaving them in a pile at the side of the bed and leaving only your shift on for coverage. You sat on the foot of the bed, watching as Edmure finally had the fire burning bright before he took his own outdoor clothing off.

“You look divine my love,” he said as he sat his neatly folded tunic on the armchair by the fire.  You held your hand out to him across the room, silently beckoning him over. Edmure did as you asked wordlessly, gently taking your hand and moving to stand between your legs. He bent down, pressing a slow soft kiss to your lips. Your hands rested on his shoulders, his cupping your jaw lightly before he stood up straight again, “It is time for rest my love,” he said, moving back to kick off his boots.

You shook your softly at him, a smile toying your lips, “We are celebrating tonight remember?” You said, standing so you could wrap your arms around his waist to pull him closer. His body, left with only his trousers, pressed flush against yours leaving no gaps between your skin. “Wont you celebrate with me, husband?” You asked, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I suppose some celebrating could be in order,” Edmure said with a light chuckle. He lifted your chin with his fingers, his head dipping to reconnect your lips. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer somehow. You were breathless as Edmure walked you back till the backs of your thighs hit the bed frame. “Lay down my queen,” he said, panting as he pulled away from your lips.

“I am not queen yet,” you said, the wine making the idea more funny than terrifying. None the less you moved to lay on the bed, letting your shift bunch up to reveal more of your thighs.

Edmures eyes scanned your thighs, soaking in your frame. You couldn’t help but notice the outline in his trousers by this point but you did not protest as he began to crawl up the bed to you, kissing your calf then knee and up to your thighs, “Let me serve you my queen,” he said as he placed a kiss to your inner thigh, “You have always been my queen,”

Your breathing was ragged as you felt him kiss up your inner thighs, his breath fanning over your skin making it tingle. Your fingers ran over his hair, toying with it softly, “Serve me husband,” you said, aching for his mouth which was less than an inch from where you wanted it to be, “Serve your queen,” you inhaled sharply when you felt him place a soft kiss to your wet cunt, his lips moving up to place another wet kiss to your clit. Your fingers tugged his hair gently as he began to lick soft stripes up your cunt, his pressure increasing with each lick to tease the feeling. While you were usually the one doing the teasing Edmure wanted to make sure this was truly a celebration for you tonight as his tongue worked its wonders while his hands softly squeezed your thighs.

His mouth moved up, his focus turning to gently sucking your clit as curse words slipped from under your breath. His hand slipped from your thigh, slowly grazing over your skin till his fingers began to tease your hole. You moaned lightly when you felt his fingers slowly slipping in as he had practised many times with you over the years. You could feel your thighs tighten around his head and how he moaned sending vibrations through your wet cunt.

You could feel your body tightening, a knot forming in your stomach as Edmure began to hit your sweet spot, his fingers curling gently to hit closer with each move. “Yes,” you gasped, your fingers suddenly tightening in his hair, “Like that,” you said, your voice caught as your body tightened.

Edmure did exactly as he was told as he felt your thighs begin to twitch. Your body felt close to bursting till your orgasm spilled over you, your legs clamping around his head as your body tensed up, toes curling. Edmure did not attempt to remove his tongue or mouth as he let you ride out your wave, only moving when he felt your legs begin to release his head.

He came up for air, his face slick and an adoring smile on his face, “You truly are amazing,” he murmured, kissing your thigh before moving up to lay beside you.

You turned, trying to reach for his trousers to return the favour but Edmure caught your wrist, raising your hand up to his lips to kiss, “Not yet love. Catch your breath my queen,”

You laughed lightly at his words, “Are you always going to call me that?” You asked.

“Yes, for it will always be true,”

Taglist @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy @valeskafics

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 20)

WARNING: Mentions of sex

—————

Robb Stark was undressing and getting ready for bed, watching his wife and newborn son—Ned—playing on the bed with a fond smile on his face. It was an odd thing, for in the several months that he had been back at Winterfell, he couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d said. He would’ve walked straight into a slaughter had he married his uncle to one of Walder Frey’s daughters.

You’d saved his life and allowed him to return to Winterfell free of any treasonous charges. Plus, in the last several months, the gods had managed to bring his family back together. Minus Bran, who several Stark men were beyond the wall searching for. Not knowing whether or not he’d ever see his brother again made Robb quite anxious, but he held out hope. 

Rickon had been brought back to Winterfell with a wildling, and according to him, he had escaped with Bran when Theon had taken Winterfell, and Bran had warging abilities. That was why he was going beyond the wall. 

Ah yes, and then there was Theon. Robb had by all accounts intended to take his head, but when he returned to Winterfell and found the sorry state he was in, he couldn’t do it. He often wished he had, but deep down, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to in any circumstance. Theon had always been like a brother to him.

And of course, the Hound had brought Arya back too. She had told the family quite a lot about her adventures in the Riverlands, and at Harrenhal. Though she ‘failed’ to mention it to her mother, Robb had heard about her time as Tywin Lannister’s cupbearer. Besides you, he didn’t think he’d ever heard someone say such pleasant things about the Old Lion.

And then there was the Hound, who—upon arriving at Winterfell—found that he didn’t want to leave. He’d been at Winterfell ever since then, specifically in charge of looking after the Stark children. It gave him a feeling that was as close to joy as he would ever get, and seemingly helped to soothe the anger in him. 

More than anyone, though, Robb’s mother was glad to see their family together again. Losing Ned had been hard, and she’d been so afraid of losing her daughters too. 

But she was home now. 

They all were. 

Well, Sansa was in Highgarden, but Loras had vowed that they would come and visit quite often. It soothed Catelyn, and more than anything she was glad to see her daughter happily married.

Along with that, Robb still had to uphold a promise he’d made to Arya upon her return, which was that they would visit Jon at Castle Black. Though, with Stannis occupying it and preparing to march south, it would have to be postponed awhile. 

He couldn’t wait for all of this to be over.

Robb’s thoughts were disrupted, however, by a distinct knock on his door. With a sigh, he moved over and opened it, finding two of his servants with a rather large box.

“What’s this?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“A message and a gift for you, Lord Stark.”

“From whom?”

“Tywin Lannister.”

Robb Stark was shocked, and somewhat wary. What on earth could Tywin Lannister of all people be sending him? 

Then he remembered something. 

“Bring it in, set the box down on the table,” he commanded, letting them awkwardly shuffle in and do so. Talisa watched somewhat anxiously, holding her baby to her chest as she sat up in bed. 

Robb thanked the men as they left, and moved to open the box once the door was shut. He knew what it was before he lifted the lid off, but was still excited to see it.

Ice.

Robb lifted the giant sword from its case, examining it and smiling. He was grateful to see it returned home, and for a moment he thought he might cry. This sword was one of the few things he had left of his father. 

“This’ll be yours someday, little man,” he said softly, showing the weapon to his son, who certainly seemed intrigued by its shine. 

“Not for a long time, though,” Talisa added, raising her own eyebrows at her husband. He chuckled and nodded, knowing she was right. She always was.

Carefully, he set the sword upon its holder on the mantle. It had been sitting empty for years now, and it made him happy to see it restored. 

Oh father.

Robb made his way back to the table, lifting the letter that had come with it. Sure enough, it had the hand’s seal. 

Carefully, he opened it and began to read.

Lord Stark,

My son Tyrion promised that this sword would be returned once you were no longer in rebellion, and he is true to his word. 

Though, I am sorry to inform you that you have not been returned the entire sword. I doubt you would have noticed, but I feel compelled to admit there is about an inch missing from it.

This metal will be put to very good use, I assure you. Several months ago, Lady Tyrell—to whom you spoke—gifted me a ring made of Valyrian steel. I intend to do the same for her, the only difference being that should she accept my gift, I will take her as a wife. 

As a man quite devoted to your own wife and family, I’m certain you can understand the sentiment. I’m also certain I can trust you to keep the content of this letter confidential, minus your wife. Best wishes, Lord Stark. 

-The Hand of the King, Tywin Lannister

Robb Stark found himself beginning to laugh, not in the slightest upset about what he had learned. In fact, he was happy for the Old Lion. It was odd, especially because they’d been at war for years, and yet there was no bitterness in Robb Stark. 

After all, Joffrey was dead, just as you had assured Robb he would be. And, knowing that Tywin Lannister intended to marry you made perfect sense. Who else but the Nightshade of the Garden would be able to satisfy and soften the most powerful man in Westeros?

“What does it say?” Talisa asked, not expecting her husband to begin laughing at a letter Tywin Lannister had sent. 

Robb was still smiling as he handed the paper to his wife, and he watched her read it for a few seconds.

“It seems the Old Lion intends to take the Nightshade of the Garden as a bride.”

She looked it over completely, and began to gape. She certainly wouldn’t have expected the man to be so sentimental, but deep down she knew better than to doubt the effect that women had on men. 

“Do you think he’s already asked her?” She questioned, handing the letter back to her husband. Robb shrugged, placing it on the table. 

“It’s hard to say, really. There’s no date on the letter,” he said, joining his wife in bed and taking their son into his lap. Talisa watched her husband lift the boy into the air, both of them grinning and giggling at each other. She couldn’t help but smile at the scene, and she leaned over to kiss Robb’s cheek. 

“And you’re not upset he took some of the metal off?”

“No, oddly enough. I should be furious about the idea of a Lannister attempting to alter the sword in any way, but Tywin Lannister is right. I’m a sentimental man, and I do love my family. Not to mention, I love my wife very much,” he said, grinning at Talisa and kissing her softly. She gave a small laugh in reply. 

“And with that in mind, I can’t find it in myself to be angry. Lady (Y/N) was a well spoken, impressive woman. The type of woman a man like Tywin Lannister would enjoy and appreciate. Not to mention, I’m certain she’s earned his respect by now. She mentioned she’d yelled at him and even despite that they get along quite well. If the Old Lion has found happiness, good for him. Maybe it’ll make him less of an obnoxious cunt,” he reasoned, covering Ned’s ears at the end. Talisa smacked his shoulder, and he began to laugh. 

“I mean it! I know you certainly made me a better man, who’s to say the same can’t be said for Tywin Lannister? Plus, everyone knows his last wife made him a better man, I bet it could happen again,” he shrugged, removing his hands and patting over his son’s head, which was already full of thick dark hair. 

“Do you think she truly loves him though? Plenty of men have wanted her over the years, and yet she’s never married. Why would she pick Tywin Lannister of all men?” Talisa questioned, knowing that plenty of people thought the man to be disagreeable.

“When I’d spoken to her, she described him rather nicely. I had a suspicion then that perhaps something more was going on between the two, and it seems I was right. You’re probably not aware of this, but she hated him for a long time. She visited Casterly Rock as a girl and the two of them did not get along very well. It’s why I laughed when I learned that the Tyrells and the Lannisters were making an alliance. I honestly figured it would be a weak one given that their two leaders are not particularly fond of one another. But no, by all accounts, the two have gotten along rather well since the Battle of Blackwater. She wouldn’t have put aside that rivalry for show unless she truly, genuinely liked the man,” Robb explained to her, watching as she took Ned in her arms and placed him in the wooden crib beside their bed. He was thankfully a very quiet baby, and went to sleep with relative ease. It made Robb feel that they’d named him correctly. 

“I see. Well, hopefully Lady (Y/N) says yes. I’m certain they would have quite the wedding.”

“I hope so too. Perhaps they’ll even invite us.”

The two laughed, laying back in bed and cuddling close together. As Robb began to drift off, he found himself smiling.

To the Old Lion and the Nightshade of the Garden.

—————

Tywin Lannister was nervous.

He found himself sitting in the garden where you two had properly fought for the first time over a year ago. Though, he hoped this conversation would go much differently. 

He was fidgeting with his own rings, and he felt vastly uncomfortable. He was never nervous, and experiencing the feeling brought him great discomfort. What if you should say no? What if everything that came out of his mouth sounded incoherent, and he upset you? 

There were a million possibilities when it came to what he was about to do, and he found himself imagining every single one. 

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d wanted something this badly. The last time he’d cared so much about a single person’s answer, or opinion. He’d lived a long, decent life despite his losses. He had all that most men craved, and yet the one thing he truly wanted was you. 

More specifically, to make you his wife. And what if you should be against that? How would he live with himself, knowing that you hadn’t wanted to marry him, but did so to avoid another lord? He had no doubt you would at least be content in the marriage, but he didn’t want you to merely be content. Tywin wanted you to be happy, to be fulfilled as his wife. Just as he would be as your husband. 

More than anything, he wanted to give you the world. He wished he wasn’t hand of the king, so he could marry you and return to Casterly Rock. Oh to return to his chambers with their tall, large windows that overlooked the sea. 

He wanted to share that bedroom with you more than anything else on earth. You had the perfect temperament to be the Lady of Casterly Rock, he knew it for a fact. 

Oh to marry you.

Not to mention, to shower you with riches and dress you in the finest Lannister red and golds. He knew you’d always be a Tyrell, but it didn’t keep him from imagining how wonderfully you would represent his own house. 

But, what if you didn’t accept his proposal? Again, these thoughts came back to him, and he sighed before rubbing his face again. Tywin Lannister felt as if he was in utter shambles.

He tried to distract himself with the flowers, which were currently in full bloom and looked absolutely magnificent. A lion in the garden, indeed. 

Just then, he heard a noise, and looked over to find you standing there. He instantly sat up straighter, and took a deep breath. Your grandmother was right. It was now or never. 

—————

“Tywin?” I said softly, a tone of inquiry in my voice. He had an odd look on his face, sitting on the bench while he fixed his ring. It was the one I had given him.

“(Y/N), sit, please,” he said quickly, scooting over a bit. I moved forward and sat down beside him, admiring our surroundings. The first time we’d sat here together, it hadn’t been nearly as beautiful. Right now, I felt oddly at home, almost as if I was back at Highgarden.

“It seems every time I’m sitting on this bench you’re right beside me,” I observed, to which he nodded and gave a gentle smile, but said nothing. Yes, something certainly was wrong, and it made my stomach drop. Had something happened? I swallowed, hoping I was merely in my head and all was well.

“You asked to meet me here?” I questioned then, having received word from a servant an hour ago that I should expect to come here at this time of the afternoon. Golden sunlight was peaking through the garden, and it was enough to be warm but not hot. It was a lovely afternoon, in all honesty. 

“Yes, I did,” he said simply, rubbing his hands against his thighs. I’d never in my life seen any man display such nervous behavior, and it was even more unsettling from him. Since when did Tywin Lannister let himself be consumed by nerves? 

Though, when I considered his behavior at the tourney, perhaps it wasn’t all that strange. Still, it didn’t make any sense for him to behave this way while merely conversing with me. 

“Am I allowed to know why?” I asked, making Tywin look over and raise both eyebrows. Gods, what was wrong with him? He was acting as if I’d said something astonishing and he hadn’t expected it.

“Yes, you certainly are. I have, uhm- I’ve requested your presence so that I might give you a gift. Two gifts, actually,” he said, stumbling over his words a little. He wasn’t even looking me in the eyes. 

“Are you alright, Tywin? You seem… anxious,” I questioned softly, furrowing my eyebrows with concern and pressing my hand to his forehead. Perhaps he was coming down with something? His face did feel awfully hot. 

He reached for my wrist, kissing my palm as he brought my hand down from his forehead.

“I’m alright, my dear, just allow me to explain,” he assured me, seemingly relaxing a little bit. I nodded, then processing that he had gifts for me. What sort of gift would be making him act this way? 

“There’s two gifts, and one requirement. The requirement is that in order to receive the second gift, you must accept the first one,” he continued, watching my face carefully. I nodded at this, though I was truthfully feeling somewhat confused. What was so important that I couldn't have both things individually? And why was he being so mysterious about the damned thing? 

Nothing about this conversation had made any logical sense thus far, and it made me feel as if I was dreaming. Tywin was always so well spoken. So confident. He was a lion, after all. 

“Very well, what is the first one?” I asked, deciding to ignore all my other concerns. Perhaps there was a reason for the odd behavior, and all would be explained momentarily.

Tywin paused, reaching for my hands and taking them in his. His hands were soft and warm, and the feeling of his skin on mine was pleasant. Not to mention, his hands were practically twice the size of mine, and I felt entirely enveloped by him.

“Before I give it to you, can I say something? Would you allow me to?” Tywin whispered, and there was a hint of emotion in his voice that I could not deny, nor place.  

“Of course, Tywin. What is it?”

He swallowed, looking me in the eyes as he again fixed his posture. He inhaled awkwardly, closing his eyes for just a moment and then opening them fiercely. Somehow, I knew then that the lion was back. The anxiety that had been consuming him—for whatever reason—was gone now.

“The last time we sat here, (Y/N), you were lecturing me. You were expressing your hatred for me, and rightfully so. At the time, I thought you were being ridiculous. I thought you were still a girl, just as you had been the first time we’d met. But no, I quickly learned that you were not. And, despite the anger I felt while sitting here, I would soon become grateful for it. I am truthfully very grateful that you yelled at me that day, because if you hadn’t, I might not have become so obsessed with the idea of making you tolerate me. And if I hadn’t done that, I never would’ve entertained the idea of you liking me, let alone- let alone loving me,” he said, taking deep breaths and letting out shaky exhales as he did. It was as if he had to remind himself to be calm. Though, the sentiment was overwhelmingly sweet. I felt myself smiling as I pressed one of my hands to his face, letting my thumb stroke his neat stubble. 

He leaned into my touch, placing one hand on top of mine as he continued. 

“And more than that, I found that I liked you. I found that I enjoyed watching you smile, and hearing you laugh. I was comforted by your thoughts, and reassured with your advice,” he muttered sweetly, a distinct passion and adoration in his eyes as he stared down at me. Then there was a slight sadness.

“After losing Joanna, I never thought I’d love another woman again. I never wanted to. But you managed to force yourself into my heart, as ridiculous as that might sound. And now that I have such a fondness for you, I can’t imagine my life without you in it,” he said, eyes scanning over my face as he did. I still had not a clue where he was going with this, but my heart pounded with every word. I couldn’t ever recall him being so open about how he truly felt towards me. 

“About a week or two before you left for Dorne, I received a raven from Catelyn Stark, requesting that her husband’s sword be returned to her son. I had, in all honesty, forgotten about that sword up until then. Upon remembering its existence, however, I found myself presented with an opportunity,” he began to explain, confusing me even further. What in the seven hells did the Stark’s ancestral sword have to do with anything?

Tywin paused, observing the somewhat confused look on my face. He looked away for a moment, as if considering what to say next. I then watched him move his hand, raising and positioning it so I would look down at his rings. The one I’d given him in particular, as it shone twice as bright. 

“(Y/N), when you gave me this ring, it was a symbol of our improved relationship. It was a symbol of our friendship. The day you gave it to me, I was no longer the Lord Hand, or Lord Tywin. From that day on, I was just Tywin to you,” he said softly, looking down at his hand before looking me in the eyes again. There was something so serious, so dire in his voice. He swallowed and then continued to speak once more. 

“And upon remembering that I would have to return that sword to Robb Stark, I felt compelled to take another step forward. Because for quite some time, I was more than satisfied being just Tywin to you. In fact, I was overjoyed. But eventually, I realized that I would be content as more than just a lover to you. And so, from that sword, I forged you a ring. A ring that I hoped would symbolize not only our friendship, but our love as well. A ring that I hoped to give to you… to give to you the day that I… that I asked you to be my wife,” he said, voice soft and progressively becoming quieter as he spoke. At the end, his voice was at a whisper, but not so quiet that I did not hear him. 

I then watched him reach into the pocket of his coat, and when it was removed, I found a ring in the palm of his hand. It was made of Valyrian steel.

My heart skipped several beats, and I could not keep myself from gaping as I looked up at him. I searched his face, and I tried to contain myself. I did not want to jump to conclusions, but I felt tears begin to well in my eyes. Was he truly asking for my hand?

“I had this ring made before I bedded you for the first time. At that point, I did not feel ready to ask for your hand in marriage, but I did feel that it would be plausible in the near future, so I had it made then anyways. It was not until Dorne… not until you were away from me that I realized there is only one thing that I will ever want for the rest of my life. When you were gone, I of course feared for your safety, for your life. I often found myself lying awake at night, wondering if you were still breathing. I was terrified. But, more than that, I missed you. I missed your teasing and your flirting, your excitement over simple things. I missed your warmth in my bed at night, and the sound of your laugh during the day. I found myself increasingly aware of your absence more and more each moment. And, I found that I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t bear to be without you, (Y/N), and it’s because of that fact that I want to ensure your permanence in my life. I want to ensure your permanence in my life for the rest of my life, no matter how short it may be, and that is why- that is why I’m begging you to accept this ring and wear it proudly for as long as I live. That is why I’m asking you to be my wife, (Y/N).”

There was so much emotion in his face, in his eyes especially, as he revealed all that he felt for me, and I couldn’t deny the tears that had begun to spill from my own eyes. 

Oh Tywin, my dear. 

I cupped both sides of his face with my hands, giving him a gentle smile as I spoke.

“When I was in Dorne, Tywin, I was sitting around the fire with Jaime and Bronn one morning. We were discussing how we’d like to die, and additionally how we’d not like to. I noted that the worst idea of death to me is somehow that of lying in a bed surrounded by too many children and grandchildren. I explained to them that my worst fear has always been being married off to some lord and losing who I am. My worst fear is being sold and bred like an animal, and only ever serving that purpose just as so many women are forced to do. I told them that, and reasoned that it’s why marriage has always made me so reluctant. But, upon saying this, Bronn pointed out to me that you had allowed me to come,” I began, giving him some context for what I was about to say. I spoke slowly, occasionally sniffling because I was somehow still crying. It seemed Tywin was about to as well.

“I realized then that Bronn was right. Even after the tourney, even after you’d expressed such a distinct fear about me being in a dangerous situation, you still let me go with them to Dorne. Not for Jaime or Cersei, but for me. You let me fulfill my more adventurous desires, which is something that few other men would do. And when I thought about that, I understood that the idea of marriage, the concept that I had been so against and hated so much for the majority of my life, was no longer something I feared. I no longer feared it because I knew that if you ever took me as your wife, I would still be more than just your wife. And with that thought came the realization that I do want to marry you, Tywin. To be your wife would be the most divine thing in all seven kingdoms, and I should be proud to take you as my husband,” I told him softly, both of our tears flowing freely now. Tywin smiled at me and wiped my cheeks, sniffling as he looked down and slipped the ring onto my finger. The weight was pleasant, almost as if it had been missing from my hand every day before this day. 

I took Tywin’s hand in mine then, pressing our rings together and smiling at him. The metaphor was certainly not lost on him, and he did not waste another moment before leaning down and kissing me. 

I wrapped one arm around his neck and held his face with my other hand, kissing him through my smile and simultaneously my tears. Tywin’s arms were wrapped around me, holding me impossibly close, almost as if he couldn’t believe I was real. There was so much love and passion in that kiss, and it was so overwhelming that somehow kissing him was not enough. I wanted to meld our souls together, to be eternally connected to him in every way that I possibly could. 

“(Y/N)… (Y/N), I love you,” he whispered, swallowing and catching his breath. He let our foreheads press together, and all I was physically able to focus my eyes on were his eyes. 

“Oh Tywin, I love you so much. So much,” I muttered in reply, kissing him once more before smiling as I pulled away. Somehow, I was still having trouble processing that I would truly be his wife. 

Gods, I couldn’t wait. 

“Now that I’ve given you the ring, would you like to know what the second gift is?” He whispered after a moment. I was utterly shocked then. There was more?

He moved his face back, and gave the smallest of grins at the shock in my eyes. 

“I spoke with your father this morning. I told him I was going to ask for your hand in marriage today,” Tywin began, making me raise an eyebrow.

“And how did he react to that?”

“He began to choke on his wine.”

We both laughed a bit, because it was exactly what I would’ve expected from my father. I suspected he was the only Tyrell who was entirely clueless about my relationship with Tywin. 

“I explained it to him in political terms, such as he needed to marry you off to a decent lord, and I wanted more children. I truthfully don’t care if you’re opposed to having children, but I did need an excuse, and your father thought nothing of it. I explained that we got along fine and would make a suitable match, but that I had a request to make,” he continued, much to my amusement, for I would’ve given anything to see my fathers face during this conversation. 

“A request?”

“I told him that if he wished to see you married to me, he needed to keep you as the head of the Tyrell army. He stuttered and fumbled around for a minute or two, but I made it abundantly clear that it was absolutely necessary, and he relented,” Tywin revealed, watching with satisfaction as I began to gape once more. 

“He’s not going to name Loras the head of the army?”

“Not so long as he wants to see us married, no he won’t.”

I began to laugh now, throwing myself into Tywin’s arms and holding him as tight as I possibly could. The man had just ensured I would keep the one thing I’d always valued so much and held so close to my heart, and how could I not love him even more after that? 

“Oh Tywin, thank you. Thank you, thank you… thank you,” I repeated, still smiling and laughing softly as I remained in his arms. To say that I was overjoyed was an understatement. 

“I told your grandmother this, and I’ll tell it to you as well. Anything you desire I will give you. If you want to be my wife, then you will be. If you wish to remain head of the Tyrell army, you will. I would give you all seven kingdoms if you so much as mentioned it,” he said, voice soft and low in my ear. I couldn’t stop smiling. I couldn’t think of a single day in my life when I’d ever received so much good news. I couldn’t recall a single day where I’d ever been so happy. 

“I love you, Tywin, so much,” I whispered, unable to express anything but that. He chuckled sweetly, arms still wrapped around me. There was such peace in his arms, and knowing that I would spend the rest of my life in them made me smile brighter than the sun. 

As I pulled away, I seemed to remember something Cerella had said once. Looking down and observing my ring, I contemplated it. The ring was adorned with intricate vines for a pattern. There was a beautiful red jewel on the top, and on the bottom, a lion appeared to be sleeping, covered in the vines. And of course, it was nightshade. 

“You know, Tywin, the day I told Cerella that we were romantically involved, she gushed about it so much, claiming that we would be the most powerful match Westeros has seen in centuries. At the time, I hadn’t fully grasped that sentiment, but the more I’ve thought about it the more I’ve realized she’s right. Usually the lowborn get to marry for friendship and love, and we have to marry for political power. But, the curious thing about our marriage is that it will accomplish both. We’ll be combining the two richest houses, and in doing it, we get to marry someone we both truly love. That idea in itself feels quite powerful to me,” I said, motioning around with my hands as I explained my thought process. Tywin smiled at me the whole time. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him smile so much.

“Essentially, the two most powerful people in Westeros are getting married and have each other’s interests at mind. The two greatest powers are becoming a single entity,” he remarked, to which I raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you may be the most powerful man in Westeros, but to say that I-“

“I’m a puppet, (Y/N). I know that, and I don’t mind it. You’ve always pulled my strings, sometimes I’ve been conscious of it and sometimes I haven’t, but the reality of it is, I let you do it because most of the time it does no harm to me. In fact, when I let you take more control, things usually go better than they normally would. I wouldn’t let a stupid person sway my decisions and beliefs, you know that. My point is, if someone has the ability to influence the most powerful man in Westeros so consistently, then what does that make them?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at me to demonstrate he was serious. 

“The most powerful person in Westeros,” I answered. He nodded, satisfied with my answer. In all honesty, I had not realized he viewed it that way. He was right of course, I had been pulling his strings, though it was never out of malicious intent, and I usually only did it for the good of the realm. Or my family, as happened with Loras and Sansa.

“I’ve never wanted to manipulate you, I hope you know that. When I attempt to change your mind, I do it for the good of the realm or the good of my family. I’ve never once done it to gain personal power, you’re more than that to me,” I said, not wanting him to feel as if I was playing the puppeteer because it gave me personal glory or satisfaction.

“I know, my dear. It’s why I went along with the idea of Prince Oberyn killing Joffrey.”

My mouth dropped a bit, and he kissed my forehead. 

What?

“Oberyn Martell did kill Joffrey, but everything that happened was too perfect. It was deliberate, well thought out. Men like Oberyn Martell are impulsive, and you’re the most thorough person I know. Plus, you had plenty of reason to want Margaery married to Tommen instead,” he said quietly, knowing we were in a secluded area but should still make efforts to at least be somewhat secretive. I was still gaping, shocked that he had known it was me the whole time. 

“I’m not mad, dear girl. Tommen is much easier for me to control, and you know that too,” he whispered, thumb brushing over my cheek. I swallowed, somehow coming back to reality as he said it.

“I wouldn’t have put the thought in Oberyn’s head if it would’ve caused any complications of your power. I only did it because Tommen was clearly a better temperament for a husband and for a king.”

“I’m aware, (Y/N). We need not discuss it further now that it’s no longer a secret. All I ask is that you promise me one thing.”

“Hm?”

“The next time you decide to plot something like that, tell me first. If you cannot trust your husband with these things, then who can you?” He requested, both of my hands in his. He gave them a gentle squeeze, and I could tell he meant it. He genuinely was not upset about Joffrey’s death. 

“I’ll tell you, Tywin. I promise.”

“Good. Do you think you can make it up the tower of the hand?” He questioned, tucking a strand of hair behind my ears. He couldn’t take his eyes off me either. 

“It’s only slightly irritating to go up stairs, I’ll manage it perfectly fine,” I reasoned, knowing my wound was well healed enough for plenty of things. The look on  Tywin’s face told me he already had one thing in mind.

“Will you join me there tonight? I’m tired of covering your mouth when I fuck you. I'd like to hear your moans tonight,” he muttered, looking me up and down before settling on my face again. There was a lusty haze in his eyes, and I expected he’d be a bit more unhinged tonight. I grinned at him and nodded, quite excited at the prospect.

“Yes, I’ll join you in your chambers tonight, Tywin.”

He leaned in and kissed me once more, and I felt my stomach consumed with butterflies like it was the first time I was kissing him. 

I felt then, that despite their cruelty, the Gods rewarded us from time to time. And I knew it then, that the nicest thing they would ever reward me with was Tywin Lannister.

To spend the rest of my life with him, what a thought.

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul @nothing2113

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice @muscari-fae @lostgirllulu @abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart @frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice @muscari-fae @lostgirllulu @abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart @frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666

[alaynasansa]

My opinion on some asoiaf ships

Jal ->

* They aren't gonna be endgame. Val is kinda a blank slate, even Harry Hardyng has more personality and he only appeared in a sample chapter + Jon dreams of an idyllic life with Val, but based on his own tastes, in his own image of what Val should be, and this imagined future is shattered the moment Val declares that Shireen, an innocent child, should be killed. Jon is rightfully disgusted "this was a Val that Jon had never seen before", this Val is the real one, not the one he had imagined, and Jon isn't attracted to the real Val

Stardyng ->

* I kinda ship them. Listen Harry isn't perfect, far from it, but he isn't significantly older than Sansa, he didn't abuse her, he didn't sexualised her (guys she's 13), he geniunely admires her qualities (her intelligence and humor), he apologized for his classism (and he hates LF so it's no wonder he didn't want to marry LF's "bastard daughter")

Starkpoole ->

* They're perfect, okay ? They need to heal and get justice and then to be happy together in Winterfell thank you very much

Ned x Ashara ->

* I'm of the opinion Ashara was Ned's teenage love. Cat was the love of his life, but in my headcanon he geniunely cared about Ashara and he repressed his memories of her. Just like his eldest daughter, Ned repressed a lot of his trauma because it hurts him too much. He only thinks of Lyanna when he's triggered by traumatic events like Sansa pleading for Lady or when he's injured and anesthetized by the milk of the poppy and he barely thinks of his own father and brother so it wouldn't be surprising

Jaime x Addam ->

* Why not ? Childhood friends and sparring mates. He's the only speaker Jaime trusts with his secret

Arianne x Daemon ->

* I don't mind them they seem happy together (though it's complicated since Arianne is the crown princess of Dorne and Daemon's a bastard)

Sansa x Dickon ->

* We know next to nothing about Dickon but why not perhaps it could work in an au

Robb x Jeyne ->

* Perhaps Robb is Sleeping Beauty. He's the one with the evil step-mom who wants to kill him and his family. Old Fairy Walder Frey is offended by the Stark-Tully family and curses 16 YO Robb. Seventh Fairy Edmure tries to save the day but it doesn't work. Anyway. Robb was young, he made a ton of mistakes, especially towards his own family, but he didn't want any of this, he didn't want to be king, he wasn't ready, he wanted to save Jeyne's honor, he wanted to do the right thing (unlike the show version). I want Jeyne to make it at the end but I'm pessimistic. They deserved better. I kinda ship them

[lj-todd]

Challenge: walder frey sr./jon snow

(**eye twitches** You love challenging me, don’t you? Alright, this pairing threw me, part of the reason it took me so long to actually write something for it, but here it is. A/B/O dynamics and angst abound.)Jon sat, silent as a shadow, before the fire of his bedchamber, his hand resting over the swell of his abdomen, lost in the grief and darkness of his own mind. Almost a year of marriage, almost a year of trying to build a real relationship with an Alpha old enough to be his grandfather, had been met with failure. He had been trying so hard to connect with Walder, to build something more than a contractual marriage with the Alpha, that he had missed all the signs.And now his family had lost even more. His brother and Lady Catelyn were dead. Butchered in the very place Jon was expected to live. Expected to raise the child he was carrying. And he’d been locked away in his room during their murders. Kept from trying to save them. Kept from dying alongside them when he failed to save them. If not for the child he carried he would have tried to avenge them by killing his Alpha.“Jon?”

He looked up, finding Roslin, Walder’s daughter, standing next to his chair, looking at him with concern. Roslin was one of the few comforts he had in this wretched place.“I’m fine,” he said quietly, looking at the dwindling fire, the words hollow, repeated so often now that they held no true meaning. “I’m fine, Roslin.”She frowned, knowing him too well to believe that, and she took his hand in hers.“Father sent me,” she said softly, no doubt not wanting to do this, wanting to leave Jon to his seclusion but, like Jon, having no choice. “He’s holding a feast. All my brothers and nephews are here and he…he wants to celebrate.”Jon twitched and let out an angry sound.“He wants to celebrate the butchering of my brother and his mother.” He glared at the fireplace. “He wants to celebrate the slaughter of his wife and unborn child.” He closed his eyes, hands trembling. “And he wants me to sit there and smile and pretend to celebrate with him.”Roslin bit her lip, shaking slightly, before letting out a soft sound.“I’ll tell him you don’t feel well,” she tried to offer. “I’ll tell him the baby…”“No.” Jon stood, though not as quickly as he wished he could, his current condition making that too difficult. “No. If he wants me to be there I will be.”“Jon…”“And who knows, I might save my child the pain of knowing his father.”“Jon.” Roslin sounded frightened but Jon leaned in quick, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.He shook his head, pecking her cheek softly, before making his way from the room and, slowly, carefully, to the great hall. The feast was already underway and Walder barely acknowledged him as he took his seat at the high table, too interested in laughing with his sons and grandsons. All the Frey men, it seemed, were present and Jon felt sick at the sight, wishing they would all just drop dead.Jon sat there, silent, ignored, and when Walder stood, drawing the attention of his sons and grandsons, the young Northern Omega thought about stabbing him in the groin but refrained. He would not risk bringing harm to his unborn baby. As much as he wanted revenge for his brother he could not risk anything happening to his baby.Walder began a disgusting speech, seemingly uncaring that his Omega, his husband, brother of the man he’d helped murder in his own home, was seated next to him, praising his family for their actions. The men all drank of the rich wine Walder had provided and Jon was surprised when he reached for his glass only for Walder to snarl at him about not wasting good wine on a damn Omega. It made Jon bristle but he bit his tongue as the man pressed on.“I’m proud of you lot,” Walder said, smiling, the men still drinking and laughing. “You helped me slaughter the Starks at the Red Wedding.”Jon clenched his hands tightly as the men cheered and Walder nodded approvingly.“Yes, yes, brave men the lot of you. Butchered a woman pregnant with her baby. Cut the throat of a mother of five. Slaughtered your guests after inviting them into your home.“Silence dropped over the crowd and Jon glared up at Walder but something, something in the man’s expression wasn’t right. It didn’t fit wit the bile he had been spewing. Jon saw the rage, a rage that mirrored his own strangely enough, and a cruel smile spread across his husband’s face.“But you didn’t slaughter all the Starks,” Walder mused as his sons and grandsons watched him, confused and uncomfortable. “No, no, no.” Walder reached out to Jon then, meeting his gaze, fingertips scratching at the corner of his jaw in a familiar gesture. But not one Walder had ever used before. Jon frowned in confusion. “That was your mistake.” Walder looked at his family again. “You should have ripped them all out, root and stem. Leave one wolf alive, and the sheep are never safe.“ Suddenly the men began to cough, to choke, blood staining their lips as they fell, clutching their throats.Jon was suddenly on his feet, staring wide eyed at Walder, fear clawing at him, but Walder merely smiled, meeting his gaze and reaching up, peeling his face away to reveal the most unexpected thing.Arya.Arya, through some sort of magic, had just impersonated Walder Frey and, in one swift move, had just brought about the end of the male line of House Frey. She had avenged their family.“Arya,” he whispered her name and the young Alpha smiled.“Tell them,” she said, hugging him, letting him clutch her close. “When they ask what happened here today, tell them that the North remembers. Tell them that winter came for House Frey.”Jon smiled against her hair, realizing that, by killing every Frey man she had left his baby to inherit the Twins. She had given him a front row seat to the vengeance for their family and she had gifted him a keep and control of it.She did not remain in the Twins long after that, leaving before dawn, heading for Winterfell, which Sansa had managed to take back from Ramsay Bolton with the aid of loyal knights of the Vale. Jon wanted to go with her, to be home, to be with his sisters, but he knew he could not leave the Twins to fall to the hands of the Lannisters or one of their allies.It was not difficult to find men willing to pledge to him as Lords of the Twins, many men of the Riverlands had loved Robb, had been outraged by the murder of the King in the North and his family, and saw Jon as a hostage of the Freys who had helped to destroy them. And they were not the only ones. Men from the Neck, sent by Lord Howland Reed, and men sent from the North by Sansa, newly crowned Queen in the North, joined them.Jon, wanting no further association with Walder, with those who had tried to destroy his family, cast aside the Frey name, stylizing himself as Lord Jon Stark of the Twins and, to further cement his control he pledged loyalty not only to his sister as Queen in the North but to Edmure Tully, rightful Lord of Riverrun and his son-by-law through the man’s marriage to his stepdaughter, Roslin.He knew there would still be challenges ahead, the Lannisters would not be content to simply let him rule the Twins, not when he had declared for Queen Sansa, but he would be ready for them. He was a Stark, he may not have been born with the name but, as his father had once said, he had Stark blood and winter had come.

[waterlilyvioletfog]

Why Bran Stark is the Most Adorable Starkling.

Bran: I WANNA BE A KNIGHT. *aggressively worships the old gods*

Bran: *sees two people having sex* huh why are they wrestling naked.

Bran: *does not remember that it was Jaime*

Bran: *misses climbing*

Bran: *is salty 1000000% of the time*

Bran: *is told to stop howling* StOp HoWLiNg. *howls louder*

Bran: No, fuck you Walders, you do not get Jon's room.

Bran: *meets Meera Reed* *falls instantly in love*

Bran: *highly competent leader for an eight year old*

Bran: *does not want to be seen as a baby by Meera Reed*

Bran: *is told a story by Meera about prev-gen starklings* *does not understand a single thing she was trying to tell him, including that it was about prev-gen starklings*

Bran: *is a solid year, year and a half younger than Arya* Arya, my little sister, is the best.

Bran: *thinking* BUT WHAT IF I DON'T WANT TO REMAIN WHEN YOU ARE GONE, MEERA REED, WHO I HAVE BEEN IN LOVE WITH SINCE I WAS EIGHT FUCKING YEARS OLD.

Bran: *looks up from re-runs of him beating Arya at sword-fighting when they were littles* OH, NICE, IT'S TWOW! TIME TO DREAM-STALK ARYA IN AN ATTEMPT TO FIGURE OUT WHERE SHE IS.

Bran: *whispering, creepy grin on his face* heeeeeeyyyyyy tttthhhheeeeeeooooooonnnnnnnn.

[hileywwe]

I'm done 😂 😂 😂 😂

[samemetha]

*blows a kiss up to the stars, tears in my eyes* "For Robb Stark"

[lupinthehowlingwerewolf]

you would not believe your gaze

if ten million slaughtered freys

[dragon-la]

[selkiewife]

Theon Month || Day 5: Flaws

In my opinion, Theon’s worst flaw is the way he views and treats women, children, and smallfolk at the beginning of the series. What makes this flaw truly interesting is that it is directly caused by his insecurity over being a hostage for half his life. Let me explain: 

A lot has been written about how Jon and Theon are foils. However, their individual circumstances are also kind of foils to each other as well. Though they are both outcasts, the nature of their positions are radically different. I’ve written before about my theory that both Theon and Jon developed certain personality traits and suppressed others based on how they feared to be perceived. For example, because of his society’s intense prejudice against bastards, Jon’s fear is being seen as a usurper of his true born siblings: 

Bastard children were born from lust and lies, men said; their nature was wanton and treacherous. Once Jon had meant to prove them wrong, to show his lord father that he could be as good and true a son as Robb.

~ A Storm of Swords, Jon X

In order to combat this negative image and fear of what he might become, he allows his empathy to thrive and he always puts his siblings needs first (his actions when they found the direwolves for example) while suppressing his natural ambition. This is shown by how much he struggles over wanting Winterfell when Stannis offers him it:

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger . . . he could feel it.

~ A Storm of Swords, Jon XII 

Just as Jon allows his natural empathy to thrive and suppresses his ambitions, Theon does nearly the opposite. This is because while Jon is cast in the “treacherous bastard” role in society, Theon is cast in the role of “weak hostage.”

The whole castle, from Lady Stark to the lowliest kitchen scullion, knew he was hostage to his father's good behavior, and treated him accordingly. Even the bastard Jon Snow had been accorded more honor than he had.

~ A Clash of Kings, Theon I

The position of hostage is position of weakness because hostages’ lives can be forfeit at any moment based on other people’s actions. A hostage, therefore, has no real agency of their own. A hostage’s lack of choice and lack of agency is similar to being a woman, a member of the smallfolk or a child in Westerosi society. Even though Theon is a highborn man- he is still stuck in the role of child hostage at the beginning of the series. He is stuck as Jon and Robb go on to take their place in society. Robb becomes King in the North and Jon joins the Night’s Watch, while Theon is still being used as a bargaining ship, similar to a woman being offered in marriage. In fact, the way Arya and Theon are talked about during the War of the Five Kings is very similar:

Arya’s proposed arranged marriage in order allow Robb’s Army to cross the bridge on the Green Fork:

"Also, if your sister Arya is returned to us safely, it is agreed that she will marry Lord Walder's youngest son, Elmar, when the two of them come of age."

Robb looked nonplussed. "Arya won't like that one bit."

~ A Game of Thrones, Catelyn IX

Ned intending to negotiate over Theon for Balon’s fleet:

“I want a careful watch kept over Theon Greyjoy. If there is war, we shall have sore need of his father's fleet.”

~ A Game of Thrones, Eddard IV

You would think that perhaps Theon would use this experience to develop empathy for people who are in a similar position of lacking agency or any control over their lives. Instead he takes the opposite approach and attempts to use his privilege of being a highborn man to show that he is not a woman, not a child, and not beneath anyone else. Because what Theon fears most of all is being seen as weak. And he takes out his fear on the people his society views as weaker in order to feel strong and feel like he is in control such as the way he treats the captain of the Myraham and his daughter (neither of who ever are referred to by their names):

He put an arm around the captain's daughter. "Summon me when we make Lordsport," he told her father. "We'll be below, in my cabin." He led the girl away aft, while her father watched them go in sullen silence. The cabin was the captain's, in truth, but it had been turned over to Theon's use when they sailed from Seagard. The captain's daughter had not been turned over to his use, but she had come to his bed willingly enough all the same. A cup of wine, a few whispers, and there she was. The girl was a shade plump for his taste, with skin as splotchy as oatmeal, but her breasts filled his hands nicely and she had been a maiden the first time he took her. That was surprising at her age, but Theon found it diverting. He did not think the captain approved, and that was amusing as well, watching the man struggle to swallow his outrage while performing his courtesies to the high lord, the rich purse of gold he'd been promised never far from his thoughts.

~ A Clash of Kings, Theon I 

Again, you can see all the posturing at play here. Even though he spent the last ten years as a hostage, he is not weak or afraid. On the contrary, he is a great Lord, making smallfolk and women do his bidding. They are the weak ones, not him. 

This fear of being seen as weak is only exacerbated when he returns to Pyke. And When Balon belittles him, it is markedly gendered: 

"Did Ned Stark dress you like that?" his father interrupted, squinting up from beneath his robe. "Was it his pleasure to garb you in velvets and silks and make you his own sweet daughter?"

~ A Clash of Kings, Theon I

And then later in that conversation when he begins to question whether or not Theon bought his necklace with the iron price or the gold:

You blush red as a maid, Theon. A question was asked. Is it the gold price you paid, or the iron?"

"The gold," Theon admitted.

His father slid his fingers under the necklace and gave it a yank so hard it was like to take Theon's head off, had the chain not snapped first. "My daughter has taken an axe for a lover," Lord Balon said. "I will not have my son bedeck himself like a whore." He dropped the broken chain onto the brazier, where it slid down among the coals. "It is as I feared. The green lands have made you soft, and the Starks have made you theirs."

~ A Clash of Kings, Theon I

Balon calls him a woman and treats him as a child- backhanding him when Theon protested him burning Robb’s letter. And both Asha and his Uncle Aeron dispute his claim that he is the heir.

I am heir to Pyke and the Iron Islands."

"As to that," his uncle said, "we shall see."

The words were a slap in the face. "We shall see? My brothers are both dead. I am my lord father's only living son."

"Your sister lives... And you are a great fool if you believe your lord father will ever hand these holy islands over to a Stark. Now be silent. The ride is long enough without your magpie chatterings."

~ A Clash of Kings, Theon I

He scarcely welcomed me, his own blood, the heir to Pyke and the Iron Islands."

"Are you?" she asked mildly. "It's said that you have uncles, brothers, a sister."

~ A Clash of Kings, Theon II 

So the image of himself he has created in his head to prove he is not weak and defenseless- “I am a man! I’m an heir and thus important! And I have a family that is awaiting my glorious return!”- All of that has been brutally torn apart when he returns home. This makes him want to prove that he is not weak even more- and now, to also prove that the Starks did not make him theirs. So he captures Winterfell, becomes a prince where he was once a prisoner and begins his downward spiral that ends in his awful crimes against Mikken, Palla, Farlen, Kyra, The Miller’s Wife, and the Miller’s boys. 

This is why the transformation he goes through with Jeyne is all the more significant. She is a girl and she is not nobility. She is not important to anyone for her own identity. She is also exactly the type of person that Theon would have dismissed in the past or used for his own gain. But because he cannot bear to see her suffering, he helps her. In showing empathy to her, he saves himself as well. I think this is so moving because in a way, it reflects hope for the world of asoiaf as well. The heroic characters of the series are the ones that are seen to care about the smallfolk, slaves, women, and children. And Theon can be seen as a symbol for the brokenness of the world of asoiaf- both corrupted and victimized by patriarchal feudalism, yet finding salvation, resiliency, and strength through helping someone as “insignificant” as Jeyne Poole. In this way, what originally was Theon’s greatest flaw in A Clash of Kings is now his greatest strength in A Dance with Dragons.

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ACOK: Bran II (Chapter 16)

Thank the lords, it’s a simple Bran tax plan chapter.

They went quicker with Hodor's help. Once he had been taught to do something, he did it deftly. His hands were always gentle, though his strength was astonishing. "You could have been a knight too, I bet," Bran told him. "If the gods hadn't taken your wits, you would have been a great knight."

+.+

Their shields and surcoats also set them apart from each other. Little Walder quartered the twin towers of Frey with the brindled boar of his grandmother's House and the plowman of his mother's: Crakehall and Darry, respectively. Big Walder's quarterings were the tree-and-ravens of House Blackwood and the twining snakes of the Paeges. They must be hungry for honor, Bran thought as he watched them take up their lances. A Stark needs only the direwolf.

This immediately brings to mind that conversation between Jon and Arya regarding a mother’s house being equal in honour.

This seems oddly out of character for Bran, no? I’m choosing to read entirely too much into it, and believe this is hinting both Sansa and her husband will share the same sigil.

It’s not so far-fetched if you keep reading!

+.+

He ducked low as they passed through the door. One time Hodor smelled bread baking and ran to the kitchens, and Bran got such a crack that Maester Luwin had to sew up his scalp. Mikken had given him a rusty old visorless helm from the armory, but Bran seldom troubled to wear it. The Walders laughed whenever they saw it on his head.

x

Maester Luwin held the door open, and Bran hugged Hodor's neck and ducked as they went through.    

Describe them walking through a door together one more time, old man.

+.+

In addition to a mint, Lord Manderly also proposed to build Robb a warfleet. "We have had no strength at sea for hundreds of years, since Brandon the Burner put the torch to his father's ships. Grant me the gold and within the year I will float you sufficient galleys to take Dragonstone and King's Landing both."    

A man of his word!

Behind the jetty wall, the inner harbor was crowded with war galleys. Davos counted twenty-three. Lord Wyman was a fat man, but not an idle one, it seemed. - Davos II, ADWD

x

"Perhaps you understand, then." Wyman Manderly lurched ponderously to his feet. "I have been building warships for more than a year. Some you saw, but there are as many more hidden up the White Knife. Even with the losses I have suffered, I still command more heavy horse than any other lord north of the Neck - Davos IV, ADWD

But what will the fleet be used for? 🤔

+.+

He wondered if a cripple had ever commanded a warship.

Of course, Bran. Victarion Greyjoy has a charred blackened hand, and he commands a great fleet.

I’m sure there’s all kinds of captains with mangled hands sailing the high seas.

+.+

Maester Luwin answered. "With no direct heir, there are sure to be many claimants contending for the Hornwood lands. The Tallharts, Flints, and Karstarks all have ties to House Hornwood through the female line, and the Glovers are fostering Lord Harys's bastard at Deepwood Motte. The Dreadfort has no claim that I know, but the lands adjoin, and Roose Bolton is not one to overlook such a chance."

Roughly 90% of this chapter is men attempting to secure a marriage with Lady Hornwood to claim her lands.

I get it, George. I’m reading you loud and clear.

+.+

"Then let Lord Hornwood's bastard be the heir," Bran said, thinking of his half brother Jon.                 

Ser Rodrik said, "That would please the Glovers, and perhaps Lord Hornwood's shade as well, but I do not think Lady Hornwood would love us. The boy is not of her blood."

Lady Hornwood doesn’t just cosplay as Sansa, she’ll try on Catelyn from time to time.

+.+

"As you will, my prince," said Ser Rodrik. "You did well." Bran flushed with pleasure. Being a lord was not so tedious as he had feared, and since Lady Hornwood had been so much briefer than Lord Manderly, he even had a few hours of daylight left to visit with Summer.

AHAHAHAHAHA

Was it not so TEDIOUS, Bran? What great news for the realm.

Laws are a tedious business and counting coppers is worse. And the people … there is no end of them. I sit on that damnable iron chair and listen to them complain until my mind is numb and my ass is raw. - Eddard I, AGOT

x

The rest was a tedium the queen knew well. She sat upon her cushions, listening, one foot jiggling with impatience. - Daenerys VII, ADWD

+.+

"Might be there isn't." She grinned. "What are you staring at, boy? Never seen a woman before?"                 

"I have so." Bran had bathed with his sisters hundreds of times and he'd seen serving women in the hot pools too. Osha looked different, though, hard and sharp instead of soft and curvy. Her legs were all sinew, her breasts flat as two empty purses. "You've got a lot of scars."

All the Starkling boys spy on naked girls in the hot pools. It’s canon.

+.+

A crow had once taken Mors for dead and pecked out his eye, so he wore a chunk of dragonglass in its stead. As Old Nan told the tale, he'd grabbed the crow in his fist and bitten its head off, so they named him Crowfood.

May I request an interpreter?

+.+

Ser Rodrik commanded the man to set aside a fifth, and questioned the steward closely about Lord Hornwood's bastard, the boy Larence Snow. In the north, all highborn bastards took the surname Snow. This lad was near twelve, and the steward praised his wits and courage.                 

"Your notion about the bastard may have merit, Bran," Maester Luwin said after. "One day you will be a good lord for Winterfell, I think."

"No I won't." Bran knew he would never be a lord, no more than he could be a knight.

Bran would like to Gift some land to the bastard Snow with wits and courage. Tee-hee.

+.+

"It may be so, Bran," Ser Rodrik said, "but I was wed three times and my wives gave me daughters. Now only Beth remains to me. My brother Martyn fathered four strong sons, yet only Jory lived to be a man. When he was slain, Martyn's line died with him. When we speak of the morrow nothing is ever certain."

I love how all these adults are determined to make Bran understand Robb might die tomorrow. Like damn, let him breathe, lol.

+.+

"Beren Tallhart may well be our best answer," he told them when Leobald had gone. "By blood he is half Hornwood. If he takes his uncle's name . . ."

Oh, there’s a plan! Somebody could take their uncle’s name, and inherit Hornwood.

Do you think they may have left out a few major plot points on the show?

+.+

"It may come down to practicalities," said Maester Luwin. "Which lord he most needs to court. The riverlands are part of his realm, he may wish to cement the alliance by wedding Lady Hornwood to one of the lords of the Trident. A Blackwood, perhaps, or a Frey—"    

Lord Tywin's look was scornful. "Send her to Riverrun and her mother will match her with a Blackwood or a Mallister to shore up her son's alliances along the Trident. Send her north, and she will be wed to some Manderly or Umber before the moon turns. Yet she is no less dangerous here at court, as this business with the Tyrells should prove. She must marry a Lannister, and soon." - Tyrion III, ASOS    

+.+

Finally all of the principal vassals of House Stark had been heard from save for Howland Reed the crannogman, who had not set foot outside his swamps for many a year

Oh, don’t worry, you’ll be hearing from Howland Reed the second they give Ned Stark’s Winterfell to a Targaryen.

+.+

Bran was riding Dancer around the yard when they came through the gate.

Aww, can we just appreciate Bran naming his horse Dancer?…

As if I actually care. I’m only using this space to insist the ship will be named Water Dancer.

+.+

The pain was an axe splitting his head apart, but when the crow wrenched out its beak all slimy with bits of bone and brain, Bran could see again. What he saw made him gasp in fear. He was clinging to a tower miles high, and his fingers were slipping, nails scrabbling at the stone, his legs dragging him down, stupid useless dead legs. "Help me!" he cried. A golden man appeared in the sky above him and pulled him up. "The things I do for love," he murmured softly as he tossed him out kicking into empty air.    

One day I’ll make up my mind and finally decide whether I believe Bran and Jaime will ever meet again.

Today is not that day.

Final thoughts:

It’s made explicitly clear in the text how vulnerable Lady Hornwood is without an heir or a husband.

Do you really believe Sansa will finish the story unwed with no prospect of children?

-> return to menu <-

[hollowwhisperings]

ASOIAF character ages going into Winds of Winter (300AC).

KEY

• [X AC] = X years after Aegon I Targaryen's Crowning in Oldtown.

• [~X] = almost/roughly X years old.

• [X-Y] = age range of X to Y years old.

• [X~Y] = minimum age to maximum, given contextual evidence.

• [x*] = if x character is not dead

~ All ages are derived from birthdates on the ASOIAF wiki, as given in canon or as calculated by fans ~

OLD AS HECK

• Brynden "Bloodraven" Rivers (125)

• Lord Walder Frey (92)

• Lady-Dowager Olenna "Queen of Thorns" Redwyne (82)

ADULTS

• Ser Barristan Selmy (64-73)

• Ser Brynden "The Blackfish" Tully (~57)

• Lord Wyman Manderly (48-61 y/o)

• Lady Maege Mormont (41-61 y/o)

• Ser Jorah Mormont (~46)

• Prince Doran Martell & Captain Areo Hotar (~43)

• Ser Davos Seaworth (40-45)

• Ser Jon Connington & Lord Roose Bolton (~40)

• Lord Mace Tyrell (37~44)

• King Stannis I Baratheon (36)

• Lady Alerie Hightower (36~43)

• Lord Howland Reed (35-40)

• Ser Jaime Lannister & Queen Cersei I (34)

• First Ranger Benjen Stark & Aurane Waters (~33)

• King Euron "Crow's Eye" Greyjoy (32~43 y/o)

• Lord Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish (32)

• Victarion Greyjoy (31~43)

• Ser Sandor Clegane* (~30)

• Obara Sand (~29)

• Ser Harrold Hardyng (~29)

• Tyrion Lannister (27)

• Ser Gerold "Darkstar" Dayne (26-30)

• Lord Edmure Tully (26~33)

• Nymeria "Lady Nym" Sand & Lady Taena Merryweather (~26)

• Asha Greyjoy (~25)

• Ser Willas Tyrell (24~31)

YOUNG ADULTS

• Princess Arianne Martell (24)

• Tyene Sand & Ser Garlan Tyrell (23)

• Theon Greyjoy* (22)

• Mya Stone & Myranda Royce (~21)

• ~20 y/o: Brienne of Tarth, Wynafryd Manderly & Sarella "The Sphinx" Sand.

• Steward Satin of The Night's Watch (18-20)

HODOR

• Walder of Winterfell, 15~25.

TEENAGERS

• ~18 y/o: Aegon VI "Young Griff" Targaryen, Ramsay Snow, Lady Roslin Frey, Ser Loras Tyrell*, Lancel Lannister.

• Penny (17-19)

• ~17 y/o: Queen Margaery I, Queen Jeyne I*, Meera Reed, Lord Commander Jon Snow*, Novice Samwell "The Slayer" Tarly, Queen Daenerys I Targaryen, Irri.

• ~16 y/o: Jhiqui, Gendry Waters, Lady Alys Karstark.

• Wylla Manderly (14-16)

• Martyn Lannister (13-15)

CHILDREN

• ~14 y/o: Sansa "Alayne" Stark, Jeyne Poole*, Jojen Reed, Podrick Payne, Elia Sand.

• 13 y/o: Trystane Martell, Lord Ned Dayne*, Edric Storm, Devan Seaworth.

• ~12: Missandei of Naath & Obella Sand.

• 11 y/o: Arya "No-One" Stark, Beth Cassel*, Princess Shireen Baratheon.

• 10 y/o: Bran Stark, Lyanna Mormont, Elmar Frey, Princess Myrcella*.

• ~8 y/o: Lord Robert "Sweetrobin" Arryn, King Tommen I, Dorea Sand.

• 7 y/o: Loreza Sand.

TODDLERS&BABIES

• Rickon Stark* (5)

• ~2: Ghost, Nymeria, Summer & Shaggydog* (born in 298AC, AGOT).

• "Monster", Drogon, Viserion & Rhaegal (born 299AC).

• Prince Aemon Steelsong, son of Dalla (born 300AC).

UNKNOWN: Ellaria Sand, Lord Yohn Royce, Lord Orton Merryweather, Dolorous Edd, Queen Selyse Florent, Ser Ilyn Payne, Daario Naharis, Hizdahr zo Loraq, King Mance Rayder, Magnar Sigorn of Thenn, Tormund Giantsbane, Osha, Val.

*IF NOT DEAD

• Ashara Dayne, dead at 14~23 y/o in 283AC.

• Ashara Dayne, (~36): for rumours of Ned/Ashara to be at all plausible to me, Ashara must have been 16 years old at MINIMUM during the Tourney of Harrenhall (well within her approximated birthdates of 260-269AC).

[melrosing]

1 and 9 for the salty asks <33

1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?

Of all the Jon x One of His Relatives pairings, Jonsa remains the most bizarre imo...

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why?

Robert Baratheon most of the time.... would probably have the same attitude towards him as Walder Frey or something if there weren't so much strained apologism for the guy